𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐲.𝐦.

40

Graphic descriptions of violence, character death, murder and eating disorders.

Yoongi watches Jimin sleep, still caressing over his cheek even if the younger man isn't aware of it anymore. The tear tracks on his cheeks have dried by now, no longer simmering in the moonlight.
Jimin's lips are slightly parted, breathing coming out in sweet little puffs. All in all, he looks peaceful, eyebrows – much to Yoongi's relief – not furrowed like they are whenever he's having a bad dream.

It took him some time to calm down, the events of the day shaking him to his core. Yoongi isn't sure if and how much he wants to involve Jimin from now on. Jimin's taking things to heart that he shouldn't. But then again, Yoongi has long gone numb.

His hand moves down to Jimin's arm. "Sleep well," he whispers into Jimin's hair, lying down beside his boyfriend. It's a bit hard to make himself comfortable with another human sleeping in his arms but he would never wake Jimin. He never sleeps much, never has but he feels sleepy around him. Safe.

Then suddenly, Yoongi's no longer in his bed and instead in front of his childhood home. He carries a backpack with him, walking up the stairs to the entrance. He's finally home from fighting practice with Jackson, rap music blaring from his headphones.

Their front door is open. There's a narrow gap, looking almost as if it's still closed. Not to Yoongi. He's been scolded countless times by his father whenever he forgot to lock the door. Maybe he forgot again? Fear rushes through his veins at the thought of his father standing behind the door, the same old intimidating look in his eyes.

Yoongi peeks inside, looking around for his father. The house is deadly silent. So, he quickly steps inside and locks the door behind him, hoping that no one noticed while he was gone. He's sure that he closed the door today, even locking it but maybe he really did forget about it or confused it with yesterday.

"Eomma? I'm home," he calls out softly, taking off his shoes and his jacket. It's still awfully quiet like no one is there. His mother should be at home though, waiting for him to come back and dress the cut on his bottom lip. She always does.

"Eomma? Where are you?" He calls out again, worry creeping up inside of him as he walks into the kitchen and the living room without seeing his mother. Maybe she's sleeping, after all, it's nearly midnight. He chuckles to himself. She cherishes a healthy sleep routine, even though she never complains when he comes home late.

Exhausted, Yoongi walks upstairs when suddenly, a shiver runs down his spine. The window right next to the stairs is open, which makes absolutely no sense at this time of the year. It's going to be winter soon, why would his mother open the window? Yoongi scoffs softly. Maybe she forgot to shut it again.

He closes the window, eyes falling on a small patch of blood on the carpet. Another shiver runs down his spine. Something's not right. "Eomma? Eomma?" He's shouting now, blood staining his finger. It's fresh.
Maybe she's listening to some music or watching dramas and doesn't hear him. It doesn't make that much sense to wear earphones when she's alone in the mansion, though. Worry pools in his stomach.

Yoongi carefully opens the bedroom door next, not wanting to startle or wake his mother, rolling his eyes when the door creaks anyway. He peeks inside.

His heart stops.

His mind goes blank.

Blood. There's so much blood.
On the wall, on the grey carpet, on the floor.

On his mother.

Yoongi falls to his knees. He doesn't think his heart's beating anymore.

He found his mother. In a pool of red.