(a little shameless self promo lmao^)

"you've gained weight, taehyung."

his heart dropped to his stomach, and while the nurse had a smile on her face, taehyung couldn't find it in himself to smile back.

"i can't," he whispered. "i... i..."

"hey, it's alright."

"no, it's... i..." taehyung couldn't breathe. something was fogging up his vision and his lungs weren't taking in the air they were supposed to.

"taehyung?"

falling. falling. falling.

gasping.

he's scared. he's scared he's scared he's scared and it physically hurts.

"i need to... i..."

his eyes found the toilet in the corner of the bathroom behind the scale. he fell in front of it, on his knees hard enough to leave bruises. the nurse pulled him away, pleading with him, begging him to stop.

"no! i need to!" taehyung was crying now, the blinking numbers on the scale too big, too bright, too high. "let me go, please."

and ten minutes later he found himself back in his room, eyes swollen and still filled with tears as he pulled his knees closer to his chest. he buried his feet underneath the blanket, clasping his hands together around his legs as he sniffled a bit.

the door opened gently and taehyung looked up to see yoongi step inside with a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"how have you been?"

he sat down beside the bed in the chair that was always there. the same way the sun rose every morning, yoongi came to see taehyung every day.

"i gained weight."

"how does it make you feel?"

taehyung bit his lip.

"they wouldn't let me throw up. they never do," he said. "why?" yoongi opened his mouth to answer and then taehyung spoke again, voice croaky and pained. "no, forget that. why do i want to throw up? why am i so weak and why is it so hard for me to just get better? why am i such a disappointment?"

"a disappointment to who, taehyung?"

"my family. my friends. me," he said. "you."

"you're not a disappointment."

"i'm never going to get better."

the room went silent and yoongi bit his lip, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"you just had a bit of anxiety. it's okay."

"doctor, no it's not-"

"recovery takes time, taehyung," yoongi said. "recovery is long. it's hard. it's slow. and while it's all of that, it's also worth it in the end. you just need to keep trying and you'll get there eventually."

"you make it sound personal."

"it really is personal."

"doctor, how about you tell me your story?"

yoongi laughed softly, running a hand through his hair.

"what about it?"

"what do you know about recovery?"

taehyung's face was serious and yoongi remained with a smile on his face.

"doctor, i'm serious!"

"you're the psychiatrist now?"

"i'm curious."

taehyung crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the back wall. yoongi put down his pen and leaned forward. "ask me questions then."

"recovery. what were you recovering from?"

"i tried to kill myself, taehyung. when i was eighteen."

"with what? pills? knives? a gun?"

yoongi swallowed once and blinked twice, instincts taking over and allowing him to breathe. "i set my apartment on fire."

"set a room on fire?" taehyung looked incredulous, dull eyes finally lighting up.

"i got out with third degree burns on my arms and legs only because someone dragged me out," he said.

"wild," taehyung remarked, uncrossing his arms and rest them against his legs. "now. recovery. how was it?"

"the burns were the easiest part," yoongi said. "it took me a good few years to actually fully recover."

taehyung hesitated.

"doctor, how did you do it?"

yoongi faced taehyung and he felt his stomach churn.

he looked so helpless. so young, innocent, pure and small but touched one too many times and left to bleed out for far too long. he was covered in blues and purples and reds and his head was a mess of cloudy grays and blacks. his skin was golden, but still a dull white from his sickly state.

his cheeks were pink, his lips red, and his eyes a deep, dark brown dusted over with a touch of green because green was fresh and free and that was taehyung. taehyung was blue and red and gray and green. he was a mess of colors, but a beautiful mess all the same.

how did you do it?

"i trusted myself."

taehyung was colorful.

taehyung was beautiful.

and while yoongi did not love him, taehyung was loved.

"trusted yourself?"

"i let myself breathe. let myself think," yoongi said. "and it hurts at first: all the thoughts filling up your head and all the breaths too loud in your ears, but then it starts working again."

"is this why you became a psychiatrist? to help people like you?"

taehyung was colorful.

"yes."

"you said it was because of people you knew."

"i'm a person i know, aren't i?"

taehyung smiled. "i guess so."

the boy pulled the blanket farther over his legs, thin fingers pressing against the fabric gently.

"you're colorful, taehyung."

taehyung cocked his head for a moment before grinning in understanding.

"that sounds nice, doctor," he said. "i like being colorful."

and then suddenly, there was something new. a new color, a new emotion.

it was short and it was brief and yoongi barely even noticed, but he saw a flicker of yellow in taehyung's heart.

ayee it's me!! so so so sorry for the long wait -- school started and i've been busy and honestly forgetting about this recently, but a comment reminded me to actually update this so here i am!! updates will be slow, but i promise i'll finish this story.

thank you so much for being patient with me and i'll be back (hopefully) soon;)