after storming out of the living room, taehyung had sat down on his bed and stayed that way for the next four and half hours.

it was dinner time when yoongi came to check on him.

the door opened with a soft noise, creaking abruptly as yoongi stepped inside.

"hey, it's dinner time."

"i don't want to eat," taehyung responded. "i don't want to see anyone right now."

"figures," yoongi muttered, stepping near taehyung and sitting down beside his bed. "i know how you're feeling right now; you feel trapped, don't you? you hate being forced to meet new people and you hate being forced to try to get better. i get it, because i was like that too," he said.

"yeah? then you should leave the pesky little anorexic alone," taehyung retorted. "i deserve to be alone." the last bit came out as a soft mumble, so soft that yoongi almost didn't hear it.

"remember, you don't have to eat. bogum might take your phone away again if you don't show up at the dinner table."

"seeing food makes me want to eat and want to throw up simultaneously. it sucks; i want to eat but... it's so disgusting that i want to eat," taehyung murmured. "i want to stay in my room."

yoongi was still sitting on the floor, legs crossed and hands relaxed on his knees. he looked up at taehyung with sympathetic eyes. "aren't you, like, a few kilograms from death?"

"kind of. that's what every doctor tells me," taehyung said. "i don't know how much i care though. death doesn't sound too bad."

"so you're trying to starve yourself to death, huh?"

taehyung finally made eye contact with yoongi, taking in his features.

yoongi had fragile, pale skin and tiny legs. his hair was a faded shade of pink, depicting the pink of a sunset, and his lips were thin and slightly red. he had an overall small stature, but not in a way that looked unhealthy. rather, he seemed to be naturally petite.

"why are you here? at the treatment home."

yoongi smiled and sighed. "i have social anxiety and my parents died a few years ago," he said. "i really technically don't even need to be inpatient, but doctor kim was friends with my dad, and i had nowhere to go except for my alcoholic uncle, so he put me in here so that i have a place to stay."

"social anxiety. what's that like?"

"it comes and goes," yoongi said. "i take meds and shit. i used to burn cigarettes onto my arms sometimes when i felt too anxious or overwhelmed." he took a quick breath. "say, what's anorexia like? is it as bleak as people make it out to be?"

taehyung laughed softly. "it's bleak when you're about to die, but for the most part, it's just miserable," he said. "all i can ever think about is my weight, or what i've eaten, or how many calories there are in a bowl of cereal. i'm aiming to get so thin that i can wrap my hand all the way around the top of my arm."

"do you know that you're skinny?"

taehyung scoffed. "i'm not skinny."

yoongi's breath seemed to hitch in his throat, and then he bit his lip. "so, do you want to go downstairs for dinner?"

taehyung opened his mouth to say no, and then found himself shutting it again. he hesitated, then he looked straight at yoongi. "will you make me eat?"

yoongi shook his head and extended an arm, gesturing for taehyung to take his hand.

taehyung obliged, and he let yoongi pull him to his feet and take him downstairs to the dining room. they sat down at the table silently, and as yoongi piled food onto his plate, taehyung took a slow sip of water.

jimin, who happened to be sitting beside taehyung, glanced down at taehyung's plate. it had been empty since he had arrived at the treatment home.

"you're going to pass out if you don't eat something," jimin said, softly enough for their conversation to be kept secret. "might as well have an apple, at least."

"i've went longer before," taehyung bit back. "i'm fine."

his stomach growled and taehyung rubbed it miserably.

* * *

a few days later, taehyung found that he was most definitely not okay.

bogum had him take off his shirt and stand on the scale, now fully aware of the tricks that taehyung had been using to make it seem as if he was gaining weight.

"you've lost weight," bogum said. "barely 44 kilograms, taehyung. you'll be dead in a week at this rate."

taehyung scoffed. "maybe i don't mind the idea of dying."

he stepped off the scale, grimacing at his own reflection in the mirror above the sink, and left the bathroom as he pulled on his shirt.

"how did it go?" jimin asked.

"i'm gonna be dead in a week, apparently."

he smiled bitterly and sped off to his room, nearly collapsing onto the floor and leaning against the wall to let out a strangled sob.

he took deep breaths, tears leaving his eyes in time with the sobs that brought gasps spilling into the room from his lungs. he hated himself. he had never minded the fact that he could die, that he would die, but for some reason, having it so close in front of him scared him.

he couldn't eat, couldn't let the calories digest and add inches to his disgusting, disgusting body. he couldn't let himself gain weight; he had come so far, so close to what he wanted.

but what did he want, really?

did he want to be thin?

or did he want to die?

taehyung sobbed again, tugging at his hair and breathing heavily. he could feel every strand ripping from his scalp, until a gentle hand wrapped around his tiny wrist and pulled it away from his hair.

he looked up, now facing seokjin.

seokjin was the eldest one at the treatment home. he had soft eyes and stunning features, and everything about him seemed sweet and warm. he was looking at taehyung with genuine concern, and taehyung looked back with confusion.

"what happened back there?"

so taehyung broke, spilling out every word that he had screamed inside his head following the events of the day's weigh in, and he didn't even take time to breathe. tears threatened to fall again, but taehyung held them back.

after he finished and silence resonated in the room, taehyung asked a question.

"what are you here for?"

seokjin smiled his usual sweet, gentle smile. "i have depression and insomnia. i'm getting better though."

and then seokjin helped taehyung to his bed, watching him stumble over his own feet.

"are you hungry?"

"yeah. but i don't want to eat."

taehyung sat down on his bed, tugging his blanket around his small frame.

"i'll tell bogum that you're taking a nap, okay?"

"okay, thank you."

seokjin nodded and left the room, leaving behind nothing but silence and warmth.