“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked. Minjoo stared blankly in front of her at the sidewalk, her gaze unfocused. It took her a moment to register that she was being spoken to, and she raised her head belatedly, looking at her best friend with a puzzling look.

    “Did you just talk to me?” Juhyun rolled her eyes, the response already confirming the answer. Minjoo was acting awfully weird, and even she could tell, but she could not prevent herself. School did not start yet, but Juhyun had returned fairly early from Daegu. The end of the school year was upon them, while Minjoo had received a letter recently from her family in America that school was still half a year until the end. The difference in starting time for school years amused her but frightened her; she was only a few months from being a senior. Her sister and Yoongi would be getting college acceptances, and while she had never spoken about the touchy topic with him, she was curious as to where he had sent applications to for him to continue his work ethics. The very thought of him made her restless.

    “I did, you dingus. I have to go home early today. Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you?” Minjoo shook her head in disagreement, and she could tell her best friend did not quite agree. She had managed to have Juhyun leave rather unwillingly, before she made her own way through the city. It was far too early to go home already, and she had a lot to think about. Christmas decorations were being taken down slowly, despite it being only two days ago. Two days. 48 hours, and she had not seen Yoongi since.

    Being under the mistletoe with him was frightening. She felt meek and vulnerable, and she could tell he was caught as off guard as she had been. Perhaps it would have been easier to avoid the situation had one of the waiters not seen this; he had come over with a small polaroid in hand and a grin on his face.

    “Would you two like me to capture the special moment?” What special moment? Minjoo had felt humiliated and panicky, while Yoongi cleared his throat, his eyes unable to meet her’s.

    “No thank you. We aren’t involved that way.” The employee lowered the camera, confusion flickering across his gaze as it shifted from Minjoo to Yoongi, and then back to Minjoo.    

    “Aren’t you two always here together?” Minjoo nodded, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, before glancing at the stoic expression on Yoongi’s face. She could only think of how bothered he must feel; he had only run into Soohyun the day before with her new boyfriend. Being mistaken repeatedly with Minjoo as his girlfriend was probably the last thing he wanted.

    “We’re  acquaintances.” He replied curtly, before moving past both her and the waiter. His shoulder accidentally nudged her on the way past, but he did not look back as he sat down at their booth, his gaze still refusing to meet hers. She felt slightly offended at the title of an acquaintance, but she knew better than to protest to it aloud with the delicate situation at hand. Instead she sent an apologetic look to the waiter, before making her way to the restroom. She was worried when she returned the booth would be empty. She was relieved when she still saw him there, despite his troubled gaze.

    “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, reseating herself. “You must have been so uncomfortable.” He shook his head, a frown settled on his face.

    “You probably hated it more, being paired with some mentally unstable guy like me. It’s only trouble for you.” He let out a dry laugh, and she winced at his words. It felt as though a physical pain were actually in her chest when he degraded himself, and she shook her head frantically.

    “Please don’t call yourself that. Yoongi, you’re really a good guy.” He slumped slightly, his gaze still on the table top. “I would never think of you lowly.”

    “I’m being honest. You don’t get it.” His voice was filled with self contempt, and his hands shook as he raised it, tugging the sleeve of his shirt slightly. Bandages covered the pale skin, and she could feel the hot tears beginning to well up in her eyes, which she wiped with the back of her hand. “No one wants to be associated to this kind of a person.”

    “When did you do this?” She whispered, her gaze fixated on his arm. He shrugged the sleeve back over, masking his pain from the world once more. His exterior was radiating with the self defense it always had, and she could understand why now.

    “When life wasn’t just something that I was dealing with. When it became too hard.” He said lowly, before straightening up. “I have to go.” He stood, grabbing for his wallet to pay for their untouched drinks, the steam still rising in steady wisps towards the ceiling. She grabbed his hand, stopping him.

    “Please, tell me you’re going to be okay.” He sighed, before gently pulling her hand off of his, and pressed the money for the bill into her palms instead. He looked at her, the tears running down her cheeks and all, before a slight smile entered his face.

    “Remember to not be nosy.” He left, directing a nearby waiter to her as a way to prevent her from following. She didn’t know at the time if she even had the energy to do so; the thought of what she could have done had she followed haunted her even now, two days later. She had sent him a few messages, all of which were delivered successfully. She had even tried to dial his number, until Seolhyun barged into her room with a movie in hand to announce a sister bonding night.

    Wandering about seemed to calm her down considerably. It struck her funny how only a few days ago, she absolutely hated the feeling of not knowing what to expect while walking about. She thought it was moronic for anyone to waste time so carelessly like this, especially with a risk of danger. Now she could tell why people enjoyed getting lost; it gave her less to worry about from her personal life. Perhaps she was physically wandering, but her mind seemed to find its place as she remembered Yoongi. His wrists. His bandages. His pain.

    She flinched as her phone began to ring, brought back to her surroundings. She reached for it, fishing it out of her pockets. Min Yoongi. Her hands trembled slightly, and she had no idea if she was actually breathing or not before she answered.

    “Hello?” There was heavy breathing from the other side, making Minjoo wonder if he had been playing basketball, or perhaps running. She doubted he would have made the effort to contact her if that were the case. Instead, a slightly strangled sob came out. “Y-Yoongi?”

    “Basketball courts.” The line went dead, and she felt herself break into a run. She skidded multiple times on the slippery sidewalks, even falling over and hurting herself once more, but she could not feel any of it. Running somehow provided slight relief to the anxiety and concern in her mind.

    She found him there, slumped on the benches. His hood was up, but he was shuddering. As she neared him, she could see the burnt out cigarette, and as well as scattered bottles of soju. She took a deep breath to calm herself, before carefully taking the final few steps that would bring her to him. The rancid smell of his unhealthy habits hit her, but the emotional pain hit her harder. This was his way of coping. His head was still ducked down, hiding his face from her.

    “Yoongi?” She sat beside him, before taking his hand into her own. It was a bold move, and she felt awkward the whole time she was doing it, but she knew she had to do something. His hands were achingly cold, and it shocked her at the contact. He did not move, still refusing to face her. She rubbed his hand with her own, trying to warm it, before she took off her scarf and wrapped it around him. “What’s wrong?”

    “Everything.” His dialect was coming out again, something she decided it mainly came out when he was intoxicated. He still seemed quite serious, however. Perhaps he did not reach his limit in tolerance, or he had been unable to truly drink his worries away. The second thought worried her, especially because it seemed highly likely compared to the first. Minjoo sighed, getting up from her seat and crouching on the snow in front of him so she could see his face. She looked up at him, peering under the dimming light of the day. She gasped, causing him to wince and look away once more. His hood fell off at the jerk of his head, his pale pink hair showing once more, along with a brightly colored bruise on his cheek. It appeared quite new.

    “Y- Yoongi.” She stammered, standing up immediately. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She felt tears beginning to form again, this time sprouting out readily. “What happened to you?” He ran a hand through his hair, before pulling her back down beside him.

    “It’s nothing.” He muttered, but Minjoo refused to have it. His mask of nonchalance, his wall of protection: it all needed to go. She needed to make sure he was actually okay, and she knew that she could not let him lie any longer.

    “Min Yoongi. Tell me so I can help you!” She begged him, and he shouldered her away, a look of guilt flashing on his face as he did so. He reached out his hand, as if to touch her, but he couldn’t quite do so and let it fall back to his lap, redirecting his gaze towards the snow.

    “Will you care?” He whispered, so quietly she thought the wind would snatch his words away from her. The pain in her head and heart amplified at his voice. Why did this have to be a reality for someone like Yoongi? Why could she not take some of his pain and share it? She scooted back towards him, ignoring the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke that she detested so much, her head and heart both throbbing.

    “Of course I do. Yoongi, I care for you.” He shook a little at the words, his shoulders shuddering. She could see a tear falling from his eyes, making its way down his cheeks. The evening darkness seemed to begin settling, but she could care less. She could stand the scolding from her parents, and deal with the endless interrogations of Seolhyun later. She could even ignore the slight fear that was coming in from the darkness; her attention needed to go to the broken boy in front of her.

    “I got hit.” He closed his eyes, his dark lashes wet from tears. The bruise seemed to stand out more, especially up close on his pale skin. It was an ugly thing of green and blue, and she resented seeing it on him. “I hurt myself a bit more too.” His voice shook as his hand trailed towards his abdomen, and Minjoo felt fresh tears pool from her eyes, blurring her vision. Yoongi may have been a year older, but he seemed fragile like a newborn. He seemed like he experienced too much like a senior citizen, like he had too much on his shoulders as an adult would.

    “When did this happen? How did this happen?” She hiccuped, and he leaned back against the back of the bench, his head tilted upwards towards the dark sky. Broken glass. That was what Yoongi resembled. Something so beautiful but so shattered and in pieces. Something that was once so pure and whole, but now begging for restoration.

    “I guess my dad got a bit carried away this time.” His voice broke a bit, resorting back to a hushed whisper. “Can I even call him that?” Yoongi let his head roll, and it rested against Minjoo’s shoulder. She wondered how he could speak so calmly, and even rest his head against her, when she was sobbing. She could feel her whole body heaving from the effort, and yet he was still so close, unfazed or uncaring of the motion.

    “It was my fault, I guess.” Yoongi continued, now wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders. “Don’t cry. You look ugly. I called you to get ice cream and feel better.” He said, before giving her a comforting squeeze. She wiped her eyes, feeling a little bit lighter that he was there and not somewhere she could not care for him physically. She leaned into him, hugging him.

    “Thank you for always telling me.” She whispered, before getting up. “And thank you for calling me ugly.” He got up, his eyes still read. “Are you even sober?” He sighed, before flicking her forehead and picking up the bottles.

    “I have a higher tolerance than you could imagine.” He retorted softly, before they left. There were hardly any people left in the cold, and she could it amusing that they were heading out for ice cream. There was hope for her that someday, he’ll always be happy and going out for the simple joys in life like ice cream, that he would not need to be cheered up from sadness.

    As they entered the bakery, with a considerably high number of odd looks for their tear stained faces and red noses, they smiled at the cashier and ordered a sundae to split. They seated themselves near the space heater, relishing the warmth. Yoongi had kept his hood on, with Minjoo’s scarf still wrapped securely around his neck.

    “You should keep my scarf. It looks nice on you, and you seem to need it more.” She joked as their order arrived. He chuckled, and she smiled at it. It was one of the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard in her life, and she was certain that she would never get tired of hearing it.

    “Maybe I should keep it. You clearly don’t understand fashion,” he mumbled around a spoonful of the cold dessert. They ate in silence, their eyes occasionally meeting. She would send him a meek smile, one that he would return through his eyes. She wanted to see more of him like this; a young adult who was not afraid of what was to happen. Someone who did not need to hide his feelings or resentment of the world. Someone who was safe with her, not endangered in a house that he probably could not even identify as a home.

    “You look like you have something to say to me.” Minjoo finally said after Yoongi seemed to shoot her another careful glance. He cleared his throat at the words, unable to deny the truth.

    “It’s a little hard for me to say.” He began, and she nodded slowly. She could tell that he realized she was willing to wait for him to take his time to say it all, and that she was always there to listen. And so she did; with her spoon in , she rocked slightly in her seat and listened to the music playing softly in the bakery. It was still filled with people, mainly young couples out for a romantic evening. He cleared his throat once again, getting ready to say whatever he had been intending to. She leaned forward, eager to hear his words.

“I still can’t believe it. All of this seems like a dream,” he started slowly, his voice low. “So please don’t try to disappear.”

Hello my lovelies! Thank you so much for all the support for this story. I'm sorry if this is very weirdly paced or anything, especially because I'm not the greatest of writers. I hope this chapter was everythign you guys wanted and more. I'm slowly going to reveal bits of their past and current situations. Please don't be a silent reader! Have a Merry Christmas and happy holidays! <3