Yoongi wiped his split lip, wincing at the sharp sting. He looked at his hand, examining the trickle of blood stark against his pale skin. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but smile wryly.

Jeongguk might’ve been a scrawny kid, but he sure knew how to throw a punch.  

His mind was still foggy, his sight a bit hazy as he stumbled through the alleyway. He tried to recollect the events that had occurred mere minutes ago. The day had been more than usual, which resulted in him having a small drink.

“Not even a drink,” Yoongi muttered to himself, “that was more like a sip.”

He remembered the drink being slapped out of his hand, being shouted at, and Jeongguk’s disappointed face appearing in front of him. Yoongi didn’t know how he’d acted. He only knew that he’d been more than angry, he’d been pissed.

He hated that look, that expression telling him he was a letdown. That he was someone who couldn’t meet expectations.

Jeongguk being the one giving him that look only served to fuel his rage.

What happened afterwards was a blur. One moment he was furious, unable to control himself. The next he found himself stumbling around on the streets.

Yoongi scoffed, leaning against a streetlamp.

Who did Jeongguk think he was? Acting as if he was in control of what Yoongi could and couldn’t do. He wasn’t the one trying to make a living for the two of them. He wasn’t the one being humiliated and laughed at, having to grovel at the feet of obnoxious adults.

He was the one who should feel grateful to Yoongi for having spared him a second chance in the first place.

“ing brats nowadays,” Yoongi spat while digging in his pockets.

He fished out one of Namjoon’s trademark lollipops. Tearing off the wrapping, Yoongi on the candy. He continued his walk, a bit more clearheaded than before.

The alleyway was fairly lit, illuminating the path in front of him. He trudged onwards, eying the closed shops beside him. He almost couldn’t make out his appearance, the dirty windows distorting his image.

Yoongi felt his feet walk into something. He cursed, almost losing his footing. Stumbling backwards, he glared at the hindrance. His glare was quickly replaced with bewilderment.

“If it isn’t another brat,” Yoongi chuckled, voice muffled by the lollipop.

Jimin shot him a blank look. There was a mark left by Yoongi’s shoe on his arm. The dusty footprint stood out against the red leather. Jimin didn’t seem to care though.

“You look like .” He spoke, averting his eyes to the ceiling.

Yoongi arched an eyebrow, leaning over him. He swirled the lollipop in his mouth before pulling out the candy.

“Ditto,” he countered, waving the lollipop in Jimin’s face.

The younger paid him no attention, sniffing the air instead. “You’re drunk.”  

“Yeah, so what?”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the defensive tone. He felt that familiar spark of anger bubbling up once more. He didn’t understand why everyone always seemed to have something to say about his decisions, about his life.

Especially the people whom he actually gave a damn about, the ones he cared for. They understood him the best, had seen and stuck by him at his lowest points. Yet even they felt the need to control, to restrain him like the rest of society was doing.

“Geez, it’s like none of you’ve ever seen someone drunk before,” he grumbled.

Jimin turned his gaze towards him, an undiscerned emotion flashing across his eyes. Yoongi met his stare, daring him in silence to speak up.

“You know what,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe you and Jeongguk wouldn’t fight so much if you stopped being such an .”

There was no bite in his tone, yet Yoongi still felt a sting. He took a step back, shaken. He felt as if he’d been burnt, as if someone set him on fire. Memories flooded his mind, enveloping his senses as he struggled to remain steady.

Memories of the fight resurfaced. He saw Jeongguk’s disappointed face quickly transforming into one of worry, saw how his anger consumed him and made him cruel, made him into a monster.

He saw the hurt look Jeongguk sent him after being hurled into the couch; saw the fear evident in his eyes when Yoongi threw the chair across the room.

The shrill noise of the mirror replayed in his mind, rattling him.

Yoongi dropped the lollipop. The scenes were stuck in his thoughts, unflinching and uncensored. He felt sick, and for once, it wasn’t because of the alcohol.

Throughout his life, he’d been on the receiving end of many disgusted stares, telling him how much of a failure and disappointment he was, and he’d never given them any thought. He knew that they were wrong, that he was right.

But what if they’d been correct all along? What if he was the one who’d had the misguided view?

He’d hurt the people he’d cared the most for, without a second thought. The people who he’d promised himself to prioritize, to treasure, above all else.

Yoongi drew in a sharp intake of breath. He truly was a disappointment.

He barely noticed Jimin sitting up until the younger man pulled at his sleeve. His knees gave out, forcing him to sit rather harshly on the ground.

“You look like ,” Jimin stated.

Yoongi knew what he meant. He felt like , complete and utter .

“Yeah,” he replied, lying down. “I do.”

Jimin joined him, their shoulders close to touching. “You should stop.”

He didn’t know which part he referred to, the drinking, the fighting, or a mixture of both. Yoongi guessed on the former part, to which he let out an empty laugh.

“I thought I did.”

“You promised Jeongguk.”

“Well, I’ve always been at keeping promises.”

“Not when it’s about him,” Jimin said, closing his eyes. “About us.”

Yoongi jerked his head in the younger’s direction. Even though there were no emotions in his tone, Yoongi was surprised to hear that said from Jimin of all people. He’d noticed how Jimin was less cheerful than before, yet he’d never bothered to find out why. Yoongi had his own problems to deal with, and he figured he wouldn’t be much help unless he dealt with personal issues first.

Realization dawned upon him. He couldn’t even keep his initial promise.

“I’m an ,” he sighed.

Jimin didn’t respond, but he didn’t have his eyes closed. They laid there in silence, Yoongi cursing himself while Jimin kept his gaze focused on the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi murmured.

He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t receive one either.

“How’s Hoseok?”

Jimin flinched, the action almost unnoticeable if not for their close proximity.

Yoongi didn’t want to pry, he hated prying nearly as much as he hated his own self, but he figured this was what Jimin needed.

Silence washed over them, dragging out until Jimin exhaled.

“He’s not getting any better.”

He remained silent, waiting for Jimin to continue. Despite the blank expression on the younger’s face, Yoongi had managed to detect a tiny flicker of sadness.

“The doctors don’t know what to do,” Jimin whispered, turning his head to look at Yoongi. “I don’t know what to do.”

Yoongi reached out, placing a gentle touch on his arm. Jimin tensed but didn't make a move, nor did he voice any dislike. Yoongi didn't let his hand linger for too long though, simply dusting off the footprint mark he'd left earlier. 

"Just," he began once Jimin relaxed, "don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Jimin let out a soft noise. It was the closest thing to a laugh that Yoongi had heard in god knows how long. 

"That doesn't make any sense."

Yoongi ignored him, continuing before the words left him. "I wouldn't visit him at the hospital, because I wouldn't want to bother him, and because I'm afraid. Don't do that."

Jimin fell quiet, holding his breath.

"I wouldn't spend time with him, because I wouldn't want him to get too close and find out that I'm not what he'd expected."

He sighed, a deep one that seemed to drag the fight out of his lungs. "I wouldn't be able to keep my promises to him, despite how important they are. Because I'm weak."

Jimin exhaled at the same time Yoongi turned his head towards him. They locked gazes. A small, tired smile crept across Yoongi's lips.

"So, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He wasn't sure if the lights were playing a trick on his eyes, but Yoongi was fairly certain that Jimin's eyes lit up. 

"Hyung," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "You're not as hopeless as you think you are."

Yoongi cocked his head to the side, despite the awkward angle. A glint similar to fondness shone in the younger's eyes. 

"You gave him his life back, don't ever forget that." 

Yoongi was speechless. He tried to respond, but his mind was blank. Never in his life had he imagined to hear such a meaningful sentence on a cold, dirty concrete ground while in close proximity with Jimin, of all people. 

"So please, don't rob him off of it." 

There was no edge to his tone, no warning aimed at Yoongi. Jimin spoke the words as airily as he'd done throughout the majority of their conversation. 

Still, Yoongi wanted to believe that he sounded genuinely concerned, for both him and Jeongguk. 

At least, that was how Jimin would've acted in the past. 

"I won't," Yoongi replied in a firm tone.

The ghost of a smile flickered on Jimin's lips. Even though it was brief, Yoongi hadn't realized how much he'd missed that smile.

"It's a promise."