BTS imagines || ↠Discontinued↞

"I'm Fine!" || Namjoon/RM ||

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(A/n: Double-upload, yay! Also, you all probably know by now that M/n's outfit is up above! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night! ☀️🌈💕✨ )

• Please don't be a silent reader! I love to hear your requests and thoughts about the chapters! •

Requested by: @StraykidsMemeHacker

Trigger warning: Suicidal actions. I don't want to offend anyone, and please, if you ever have thoughts of hurting yourself or if you do, tell an adult or someone who can help you.

Song: "Life" by RM
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M/N's P.O.V

Everyone always asked why I wore long-sleeves and jeans every day, even in the summertime. I never really told them the truth, I always said it was because I wasn't hot, even if it was nearly ninety-degrees out.

I was pale, but not too pale, I really didn't go outside that much.

The real reason I didn't was that I think no one needs to see this horrid body. I wear long sleeves and jeans to cover the scars and fresh cuts I would make sometimes when my negative thoughts take over my mind. I was always so ashamed when I was done, I had always harmed my pale and 'flawless' skin, once again.

Being an idol made this even harder to hide, but lucky I have good makeup artists to help me. Yes, I used to see a therapist, but all she did was talk about herself and all the money she had. It was boring, so I stopped going, which made my cutting start, again. But I have one person who always cared for me. My boyfriend, Namjoon. He was a slightly destructive person, for sure, but he was wise, funny, kind, and adorable.

I walked into the dark apartment, thinking no one was home. I shut the door behind me, making sure it was locked. I didn't wear a coat, today, so I just took off my shoes and headed towards the bathroom, like I did every time I came home alone.

Cutting, for some reason, made me feel something. I like I was finally in control of something, and no one could take that away from me.

I opened the closet, pushing the small box that hid my razor blade. I pulled it out, holding it in my small hands. I quickly walked over to the toilet, sitting down in front of it, I hadn't even bothered to shut the door, because I knew no one was home.

I placed the razor blade in my arm, running it over the old cuts from yesterday.

"(M/n), are you home?" A deep voice called out, making me jump. The blade deeply cutting my arm on accident, causing blood to fall down my arm faster.
"Are you asleep?" Namjoon asked, his voice getting closer to the bathroom. I panicked, cleaning the blood off the toilet and grabbing the blade, quietly yet quickly running towards the bathroom closet, wiping it off with a red washcloth, so no one would notice. I hid it under the small box, opening the said box and grabbing bandages for my arm.

I flushed the toilet to make it seem like I had been using the restroom and also to get rid of the evidence.

I washed my arm off in the sink, causing a slight noise. I wrapped my arm up in the bandage, quickly tying it, before pulling down my long-sleeves.
"I'm in here, Joonie!" I answered, looking at myself one last time in the mirror to see if had cleaned it all. I nodded agreeing silently with myself that I had.

I opened the bathroom door, walking into the hall, shutting the bathroom door behind me.
"Namjoon?" I asked aloud, walking down the hall.
"(M/n), are you okay?! There's blood or something running down your arm!" He yelled worryingly, from behind me, causing me to jump, again, in surprise. I looked down at my arm, my bandages weren't tied correctly, so know he knows.

"I-I'm fine, Joonie. Don't worry about me." I told him reassuringly, I want to them him the truth, but the words didn't leave my mouth. He gently grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him.
"Namjo-!" I protested, but he lifted up my sleeve and saw the bloody and dark red bandages. He looked down at me, tears forming in his chocolate brown eyes.
"I..." I stuttered, tears flowing down my cheeks.

"Why do you do this? I could have helped you... (M/n), I'm always here for you. You need to open up to me more." He told me, tears falling down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered as he led me to the bathroom in silence.

I kept my head down as he walked over to the closet, pulling out some medical products.
"Where's the blade you use to hurt yourself?" He asked, his eyes staring at me deeply. I quietly walked over to the closet, opening the door and moving the small wooden box.
"Right here," I answered, grabbing the razor blade and gently handing it to him.

"How long have you been doing this?" He asked, throwing the blade into the trash can.
"Six months, maybe..." I answered, my voice barely coming out as a whisper.
"Look at me, (M/n). I love you too goddam much to lose you to a sharp piece of metal! If you ever feel like hurting yourself, again, call me or come to me, immediately. I'm going to clean your arm, so it might sting a bit." He scolded me, as I nodded at his words.

He grabbed the rubbing alcohol, pouring some of it onto a red washcloth, before rubbing it on my arm. I let out a small gasp of pain, but the pain quickly subsided.

Once my arm was cleaned, he wrapped it in a new bandage, tying it properly, unlike I did earlier.

"Come on, to the living room." He spoke, picking me up bridal style since I was smaller than him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held me close, walking down the dimly-lit hallway. I laid my head on his chest, snuggling closer to his warmth.

"I'm sorry..." I spoke, knowing I wouldn't ever do that, again. He walked into the living room, walking over to the couch.
"Please don't do that, again." He remarked, sitting down on the gray couch with me, sitting comfortably on his lap.
"I won't, I promise," I reassured him, feeling my eyes grow heavy from blood loss and exhaustion.

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(A/n: Please, remember, you are loved! Even if, it may seem like no one loves you, someone does. You are beautiful the way you are, please, don't change yourself just because of someone else! )
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