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The rain started to pour as soon as Yoongi and I got into my house. It was dark, and as I shakily flicked the switch of the light in the living room, Yoongi almost dropped into the floor.

I held his arm tightly which is dangling around my neck, and I bend over so I could yank it more securely. I kicked the door close with my foot, and dragged Yoongi towards the couch and carefully laid him back.

As his back touched the couch, he opens his dark brown eyes that I have seen crying for the first time. The wound on his lips had scabs of blood forming which made me remember his bleeding knuckles.

The handkerchief I wrapped it with is now stained and cover with his thick blood, and it looked as if it will start dripping if I don't change it now.

I quickly ran to the kitchen and take the first aid kit on top of the fridge. On the fridge was a note that says my dinner is in the microwave oven, just like always whenever my mom and my dad is at work.

I marched back to where Yoongi is laying down and sat at the small space beside him. I took his wrapped hand and gently unwrapped it, some of the parts sticking to the handkerchief because of the blood. When I got it off, more blood came gushing out.

I took a piece of cloth from the kit and dabbed it into his knuckles to apply pressure. When it looked better, I cleaned it up and wrapped a gauze around it, then another cloth to secure it.

After that, I opened the kit and take a cotton swab and I slowly dab it on the wound on the corner of his mouth, making him shift uncomfortably.

"Ouch," he says, turning his face away.

"I'm sorry." I replied. "But I have to clean it or else it might be infected."

He turns his head back to me and I continue to clean it. I stared at him as I continuously dabbing the wound clean gently. His eyes were now closed, his lips formed into a thin line. His cheeks were tainted with pink which i'm guessing because of the amount of alcohol he has consumed. His hair is sweaty and wet, like he had just gotten out of the shower.

He's damaged. It might not show physically besides the wounds on his knuckles and his mouth, but he is. He's emotionally damaged. And even though I can't see it, I could feel it. I don't want him to be like this. I want him to be happy. He's broken into pieces and I want to be the glue that sticks all his pieces back together.

When I finish cleaning up his wound, a hand stopped me from standing up. It was Yoongi's and he was looking up into my eyes.

"Don't leave me." He says, his words still a little slurred, but better than before.

"I was going to make you porridge." I said. "I heard it can cure alc-"

"Stay for just a bit," he pleaded, closing his eyes while his fingers still gripping my wrist. "Please."

"Okay, okay." I said, sitting back down. "Go to sleep, get rest."

"Hm." He groaned softly. He looked peaceful at last, as his fingers gradually letting go of me. He had fallen asleep, snoring lightly every now and then.

I got up as quiet as possible and tip toed away from him. I head into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A bright orange pumpkin stares right at me, and I know exactly what to make out of it.

*

"Yoongi," I call for him with the bowl of pumpkin porridge resting on my hands. "Please eat this."

Yoongi blinked twice before he completely opened his eyes. I place the bowl of porridge at the center table just beside the couch where he was sleeping. He sits down, putting his feet down the floor. He shakes his head and ruffles with his hair, followed by a sigh.

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