"est-ce que tu veux du café?"

"in fucking english, s'il te plaît."

"do you want coffee?"

"no choice, i already brought some," jungkook said as he sat down and placed three cups of coffee on the table in front of them.

"yoongi's is black, and hoseok's has two creams and two sugars. you're welcome."

"merci beaucoup."

"will you stop with the français?" yoongi fumed.

"alright, k, chill."

the cafe went silent then when the three of them stopped talking to look outside as they drank their coffee.

yoongi pulled out a cigarette, wan fingers wrapping around the object, too familiar with the feeling of breathing in the poison that came out of it.

smoke dispersed starting at his pale lips, leaving remnants of the smell of tobacco in the room.

conversation began again after yoongi threw out the cigarette and jungkook finished his coffee.

"so, your neighbor, park jimin; what's going on between you two?" hoseok rested his arm by the elbow on the table as he shot yoongi a curious look.

"he's nice."

"he's keeping it vague on purpose," jungkook whispered to hoseok with the intention of yoongi hearing him. "they've probably fucked already."

"get out of here, you prepubescent seagull," yoongi laughed. "and we didn't fuck, stop assuming things."

"va te faire enculer." jungkook nearly yelled out.

"what does that mean?"

"go fuck yourself," he grinned. "hoseok taught me."

"you sure are teaching great things to children aren't you?" yoongi muttered, sitting back. "how do you say i've tried?"

"oh my god, you disgusting old man." hoseok threw a spoon across the table at yoongi with an expression of absolute disgust written on his face.

yoongi stuck out his tongue, laughing.

hoseok reached for a napkin, exposing the skin of his wrist for a few seconds.

it was short, but long enough for yoongi's astute eyes to notice the new cuts.

as much as he wanted to question hoseok about it, he couldn't bring himself to ask then.

so the cuts remained unspoken of that night, and yoongi didn't know how much he would regret it.

***

"do you really sincerely want to die? or are you just reluctant to live?"

jimin's words hung in the air the way stars hung in the sky at night. small and truculent and bright.

"i'm not sure," yoongi replied. "maybe a bit of both."

"why?"

yoongi smiled a bit then.

"there's a lot to it. loneliness. underlying family issues. maybe a head that isn't screwed on straight; that's what depression makes of you."

"what were you crying about that night?" jimin slid a little closer to yoongi, both of them sitting on the side of the rooftop of their apartment building; skinny legs dangling over the edge.

"my mom tried to run away with me. from my dad. he was kind of crazy; always drunk, always hitting one of us. the cliche, broken family shit," yoongi scoffed, his eyes skimming over the city below them.

"we ended up in a car accident. she died, i lived. and it's obvious that it's at least partly my fault." his eyes filled to the brim with tears. but no, he couldn't cry today.

one blink.

two blinks.

three blinks.

six deep breaths.

the tears were gone again.

"i was 17, and that's old enough to do a lot of things, isn't it? fuck, he was hitting her, and i should have been strong enough to get up and ignore the bruises and tell my dad to leave her the fuck alone. if only i had helped her, if only i had interfered before she decided it was enough and jumped into the car with me. if only i had tried to stop her; something as simple as 'no, mom, it's raining' or 'mom, it's too dark.' if only, if only, if only," yoongi's voice faltered. "it's endless."

"yoongi, but it isn't your fault," jimin said. "you did nothing wrong. it's okay. you're okay."

and then, two blinks and three seconds later, yoongi was crying into jimin's shoulder, screaming about how jimin was wrong. it was his fault. and he screamed and screamed and screamed until nothing was left in him anymore.

he fell asleep, and jimin picked up the small, frail boy and carried him to his apartment.

he put yoongi down onto the bed and sat down beside him, brushing away the stray hairs and rubbing the dried tears until they were gone.

he was asleep, and he was red and puffy from crying, but he was still so fucking beautiful, and jimin wondered to himself how anyone could ever even try to hurt him.

+++

oi i'm cringing so much lmao.