YOONGI

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah?” He glanced over at the pumpkin haired boy lying on the couch while Yoongi was spread across the floor, flipping through his textbook. Frequently, he had been visiting him after classes, whether it was to drop off some food for a few minutes or to stay and do his homework until after sundown. Yoongi wanted to make sure Jimin wouldn’t feel so alone. He was probably annoying him from the constant visits, but Jimin never complained.

Jimin hesitated for a moment. “I don’t want you to laugh at me, but...”

“What? Just spit it out kid.”

“Can I see you?”

Yoongi stared at the boy, completely dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

Jimin crawled off the couch, his hands running along the carpet until he lightly hit Yoongi’s shoulder as he sat up to face him. His cloudy, white eyes stared right at his own, but they were always a little off target. His small hands lifted up, bumping against his arms, rising up until they reached his cheeks. They felt so cold against Yoongi’s warm skin.

Yoongi silently thanked himself that Jimin couldn’t see. His cheeks were completely flushed. Jimin’s hands gently moved across his cheeks to the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and his lips, examining the facial structure. “This is how I see people.” He eventually spoke up. “Or the closest I can get to seeing a person. It’s rather helpful actually, it gives me a face to match your voice with.”

“And how do I look?”

“The guys were right, you are ugly.”

Yoongi smacked Jimin’s shoulder, moving himself away. “I’m not letting you look at my face anymore.”

“Aw, but…” Jimin scooted closer, giving him a pouting expression. “But Yoongi…”

“Nope.”

“Okay, okay you’re not ugly! At least from what I know, but I’m not the best person to say so.” He snickered, tugging on Yoongi’s sweater. “Yoongi, what color is your hair? Brown?”

“Yeah, just plain old brown.”

“My friends said it was the color of poop.”

“Okay, what exactly kind of friends are these guys? Do they like to talk about my appearance? I swear when I see them again-“

“You should dye it.” Jimin gave him a hopeful smile, biting his bottom lip. “Do something fun with it. I dyed my hair orange before I went blind, but Jin kept re-dyeing it for me because he knows how much I liked it.”

“What should I even do?”

“I don’t know. Be wild. Go mint.”

“Mint? Are you kidding me?” Yoongi glanced at Jimin with a disgusted expression, baffled by his suggestion. “What kind of an idiot would dye their hair mint? Nope, I’m not doing it.”

“You’re no fun.” Jimin grumbled and scooted back over to Yoongi, their knees touching each other. “You know, my electricity bill started going up because of you. Because someone is picky and has to turn on the lights whenever they come over and pull open all my blinds to make this room as bright as possible, like I can even see the difference.”

“In my defense, the sunlight is good for you.”

“I get plenty of sunlight walking to school, thank you very much.”

“Whatever. It’s better than sitting around here in darkness.”

“Fine, but you’re chipping in on the bill.” Jimin joked but eventually his smile faded as they sat quietly on the living room floor. Except for their light breaths, nothing made a noise. The silence was comforting, Yoongi liked it. He never felt like he had to say anything to Jimin just because it was quiet. Their presence alone comforted each other.

Jimin leaned over, his face dangerously close to Yoongi’s. “Hey Yoongi.” He whispered quietly.

“What is it?”

“Do you have any secrets?”

“What? No.” Yoongi nudged Jimin’s face away, giving himself some distance. His sudden closeness left a strange feeling in him, but he quickly pushed it away. It wasn’t important.

“Everyone has a secret Yoongi.” He looked into Jimin’s colorless eyes that glanced back at his own. His thoughts ran in a million different directions as he clenched his jaw. Yoongi observed the small smirk across Jimin’s face while he sat patiently in front of him, waiting for his response.

“Well clearly I must be the only one that doesn’t.”

----------

The alarm went off, screeching across his bedroom as Yoongi rolled out of bed, quickly throwing his sweater on. He slammed on the clock, turning off the atrocious noise and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. The sun hadn’t even touched the horizon yet, the sky dark and still.

Yoongi groggily shuffled into the bathroom, standing at the sink as he splashed water on his face. His gaze met with his own reflection for a few seconds before he averted his eyes. He picked up a small washcloth, dabbing his face dry and brushed his teeth before exiting the small room. Yoongi slipped on his dark trench coat and wrapped a thick scarf around his neck. Pulling the keys off a hook beside the door, Yoongi left the apartment into the cold, morning air that nipped at his skin.

It was too early for Yoongi to properly function, not to mention it was sometime before 6 in the morning. But he still left the place. He wanted to check on Jimin. He needed to.

It was Saturday.

The last Saturday, he discovered Jimin’s state by accident and it startled him so gravely, he made a promise that he’d never let Jimin be alone on that particular day of the week. Not with the condition he was in.

Yoongi shivered, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his trench coat as his boots dragged along the sidewalk. The cold was starting to wake him up, his cheeks and nose growing numb. He peered at the sky above him, covered with a thick layer of clouds.

It was cloudy for days now, but the snow refused to fall. As much as he despised the winter, he wanted to see his first snowfall living in Seoul. Did it snow more here than in Daegu? Did it look more like a winter wonderland? He was so curious.

Jimin’s apartment came into view, his hands clenching tightly in his pockets. Yoongi impatiently waited in the elevator while it slowly moved to the 4th floor, avoiding eye contact with the reflection in front of him.

When the doors slid open, Yoongi was welcomed to an empty hallway with the sound of the wind hitting the apartment walls. Picking up his pace, Yoongi grew closer to his apartment; the door was soon in front of him.

He took a deep breath, his hands lightly knocking on the door. “Jimin, are you there?” Yoongi placed his hand on the doorknob, twisting it until it opened. He swore to himself he was going to scold Jimin about locking his door again, but that was for another day.

The apartment was dark as usual, all the curtains tightly drawn to prevent any light from peeking through. Because the sun wasn’t up yet, the rooms were almost pitch black.

Assuming Jimin wouldn’t be in either the kitchen or living room, Yoongi went straight for the bedroom door, knocking lightly. “Jimin, I’m coming in. Okay?”

He opened the door as slowly as he could, peeking inside before entering. Scanning the room, there was no sign of Jimin. Confused, he entered the cubicle, circling around the bed. “Jimin? Where are you?” A small sound came from the closet behind him; Yoongi would have missed it if he wasn’t listening so carefully.

He spun around, sliding the two doors apart until he faced Jimin curled up on the ground, his face covered with a hood, buried in his knees. Kneeling down, Yoongi came face to face with the trembling figure. “Jimin, it’s Yoongi. Are you listening?”

The boy lifted up his head, the pumpkin hair fallen over his dull eyes, his usually flushed face grew pale. His cheeks were streaked with tears, his lips swollen from over biting it as a nervous habit.

Yoongi extended out his hands carefully and gently touched his shoulders before Jimin recoiled back in fear, his eyes growing wide. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe; I locked your front door. It’s a peaceful day out, no one is even awake yet…there’s nothing that can hurt you.”

“It’s not okay.” Jimin whispered, his voice shaky. “The truck is coming, it’s too bright.” It was his same exact words as last Saturday, his voice was like a broken record replaying the same sentence over and over. “It hurts…”

“Jimin.” He spoke so softly, so gently to cause him as little pain as possible. “There is no truck. You’re in your bedroom, way up on the fourth floor, safe from any vehicles. Do you hear that?” He fell silent for a moment. “Nothing. There’s no cars, the world is asleep.”

Jimin moved his hands into the locks of his pumpkin hair, tightening his grip as his shoulders shook. It broke Yoongi, to see him in this state, to see this delicate but stubborn person fall apart piece by piece over a single day of the week.

“Okay, if I’m making you that uncomfortable, I’ll just leave.” Just as Yoongi was about to stand up, an arm reached out and grabbed his sleeve with a tight grip.

“Don’t.” His voice was barely audible.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Yoongi leaned over, tilting his ear toward him.

“Yoongi,” His lifted up his face toward the standing figure his eyes just missing Yoongi’s face. “I’m so scared.”

“I know.” Yoongi bent down, his hands curling around his arms. “I know you are, but I promise you, you are in the safest place possible. Come on, being in the closet isn’t good for you; let’s move you to your bed. You must have been up all night, haven’t you?”

Jimin hesitated as Yoongi nudged him to stand up, too afraid of anything to happen. After a few gentle attempts, he mustered up the courage to stand, his hands searching for Yoongi’s. “I’m right here, it’s okay. You did it, great job.” Yoongi smiled in the darkness, unable to hide how proud he felt that he got Jimin to move.

Sobbing quietly, Yoongi felt Jimin wrap his arms around his waist, burying his face into his shoulder. At first, he couldn’t move, unsure of how to handle the situation. But as he listened to Jimin mutter about the crash, Yoongi ran his fingers through his soft, pumpkin hair, hoping it would provide some comfort.

Time ticked by, Yoongi lost count of how long they stood in the room, his sleeve soaked with Jimin’s tears. The sun was beginning to peek through the bottom of the curtain, but not nearly bright enough to light up the area. He began to hear the signs of life outside of the apartment. Birds chirping, vehicles starting up.

Jimin shifted against his shoulder, straightening himself up. His fist balled up, clenching onto the fabric of Yoongi’s sleeve, his swollen eyes searching across the bedroom, as if he were looking for something.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Slowly, but eventually, Yoongi led the trembling boy toward his bed, sitting him down on the edge. “I’m going to get you a cup of water, it’ll calm you down.” But Jimin briskly shook his head, tugging on his sleeve.

“Listen, I’m going to be right around the corner for two minutes. Here, this will distract you.” Yoongi leaned over, digging his hand through his trench coat pocket and pulled out his earbuds. Plugging it into his phone, he flipped through it until a song began to play and carefully put them in his ears.

Jimin was still stiff, but his expression softened as he listened, the sound of the music filling up his ears. Yoongi took this opportunity to leave the room and prepare a cup of water. After visiting him throughout the week, he became more familiar with Jimin’s apartment, where Jimin kept everything so he could easily find what he needed.

Yoongi filled a mug with water, listening carefully for any sudden noises from the bedroom. He put the pitcher back in the fridge and re-entered Jimin’s room. The boy sat frozen on the bed, but he appeared much calmer than last weekend. “How did it sound?” Yoongi asked as he pulled the earbuds out. “I composed it myself last year.”

Yoongi lifted Jimin’s hand, replacing the emptiness with a mug. “I still have a lot to learn though. It’s not perfect, but someday, I’ll get it. I hope.” There were faint ripples in the water from his trembling hand, but he seemed to be listening to Yoongi, his attention averted for now.

It was a good start.

----------

Yoongi watched the boy sleep, his chest rising up and down as he breathed slowly, the calmest he’d seen him all day. Sighing in relief, Yoongi slumped against the dresser, staring up at the ceiling decorated with a few cracks.

Yoongi spent the entire day by Jimin’s side, comforting him with his own stories, sharing about his life back at Daegu. It took hours, but he got Jimin to relax bit by bit. At one point, he was able to say a few things that didn’t relate to the accident.

They were generally short questions, like asking for more water or what time it was. But later that day, when he saw that Jimin was stable, Yoongi decided to try and get him out of the room, but as soon as he reached the doorway, something clicked inside of him and he spiraled into madness.

His limbs flew everywhere, crashing into objects as he screamed. Yoongi pinned Jimin to the ground to prevent him from getting injured. An object from the dresser rattled and crashed against the floor beside them. Flinching painfully, Jimin cupped his ears as choked sobs erupted from him.

Yoongi’s heart pounded, regret weighing heavily against him. He should have never tried to make him leave the bedroom. He thought it was safe but he made a mistake. A huge one that sent Jimin right back to square one.

His words of the accident repeated, the record broken again. He shouted loudly, but to Yoongi’s relief, Jimin stopped flailing his arms. He pulled himself up from the ground; afraid his touch would set him off. Watching as Jimin curled up in a ball on the floor, making quick gasping noises, Yoongi bit his lip and left the room. He barreled into the bathroom, searching through the cabinets and drawers until luck was on his side and found exactly what he needed.

Rushing back into Jimin’s room, Yoongi leaned over his figure, whispering softly as he helped Jimin back up. He opened the bottle and placed two pills in his palm, gesturing him to take it as Jimin obliged.

Yoongi had found Jimin’s stash of melatonin. It wasn’t strong, but it was the only thing he could use to calm him down, break him out of his severe panic. Obviously, Yoongi couldn’t force him to live on it every Saturday, but he was going to find other ways.

Yoongi sat against the dresser while Jimin slept, the day slowly coming to an end. It was a long one, but Yoongi didn’t see it as a waste. He saw small improvements throughout. They may have been barely noticeable to anyone else, but he, for certain, saw them.

And it gave Yoongi hope that maybe; just maybe, he could show Jimin that Saturday was not a day to fear.