all his life, min yoongi had wondered what death would be like.
he had never really been a religious person; his parents hadn't ever practiced any religion, so he was always unsure of the whole 'life after death' part.
currently, he felt like he was floating, but a weird floating, because his limbs felt heavy but he felt like he was flying. it was cold, and he almost reached for a sweater before remembering he was dead, and his closet sadly, would not be with him in his afterlife. yoongi almost felt disappointed.
that's when his brain started to kick in. did brains actually work after death, yoongi wondered, or was he just insane? either way, he began to recall everything that happened. he remembered his dinner with jimin, going out to the club with namjoon, and passing out in the bathroom.
now he was alone in this desolate wasteland, whatever it was. he sure as hell couldn't see, hear, or feel anything, everything was numb to him. he ached for jimin, to hold the younger again. he missed him so much and would have been sobbing by now if he had been actually able to shed a single tear. jimin was always there for him, in the nearly three years they'd known each other, he had become the only friend he could depend on for anything. he loved him. jimin had always picked up the pieces yoongi broke and left in his path, silently and without complaint. he had never really thanked him properly for that. he hadn't even really said goodbye. yoongi was beginning to feel disgusted with himself at this point. he had been extremely selfish, breaking jimin's trust and turning to alcohol to fix his problems. he imagined how jimin must have felt, walking into the bathroom, which most likely reeked of alcohol, and seeing yoongi crumpled on the ground and not breathing.
for the first time in three years, yoongi wanted to be alive.
