Forget Me Not ° Yoonmin✅

🍃49🍃

7/24/18

Yoongi's house had finally been cleared out. He had managed to bring in some guys to clean the place out under the pretense of a party gone wrong without attracting the attention of the townsfolk. The last thing Yoongi needed was for the whole town to acknowledge that something was up with the little two story house on the hill and his father be alerted. His father would send him off to an institution if he ever learned about what occurred at the house the previous week. His father already thought that he couldn't take care of himself, much less, a house. His mother had refused to sending her beloved son off to an institution the second it came up and then delivered the final crushing blow that made Yoongi realize that he was different in a way no one would ever like. “It would taint our family name if anyone were to discover our son was in such a place. He's better off where no one will ever see him.” The damage had been dealt. Those words were enough for Yoongi to fully convince himself that his life, no matter if it had been somewhat good or somewhat bad, was over. He'd be practically hidden with no escape for the rest of his life. Stuck with the same walls, same doors, same days. Nothing would ever change. He had no doubt that his father would ensure that he was sealed off with no means of getting out or leaving.

Then Jimin came. It was as if someone had pulled the boards off the windows and let light finally shimmer through, all with a dish of baked spaghetti. It had intrigued him just why someone would want to give something as well made as it was to him. He wasn't anyone special nor had he done anything deserving of it either. He had just provided some common advice that anyone who'd lived in the area long enough would have given.

It wasn't until he had seen that Rosa canina and spoken to Jimin directly after had he realized that something was going to change. For the first time in a really long time, Yoongi felt pure warmth in his core, mostly fueled by excitement and longing. Longing for whatever that blond haired boy had in store for him, whatever changes he would bring about. He didn't care if Jimin were to be his worst enemy or his best friend, it was a change and that's what he was looking forward to. There was finally some reason to get out of bed in the morning and interact like that day would be different. There was finally some point in doing things other than just doing them to prove he was alive. Jimin had given him hope. Hope that was far different from the kind of hope he had from his friends. A hope that survived a week and a half of attacks and emotional downfalls. It was so very unlike the hope he had had before, which collapsed in three days. This hope survived, despite walking into a home with floorboards coated in a thick layer of ivory white dust that had failed to be swept up and tiny small fragments of the rubble that hadn't quite made it out the door.

It was honestly heartbreaking for Yoongi to see his once cluttered home so empty. It's walls were bare, all the shelves had been removed. Smooth, pale grey plaster was spread across the dented portion of the walls, yet to be painted until Jimin said he could go to the hardware store. His door had been reattached but was left with a horrible screeching noise everytime it moved. Yoongi had tried dumping water on the floor, only to discover once it dried that the color and the scratches were now a permanent feature of the home. Jimin had held Yoongi's hand throughout the whole walk through. He didn't seem to mind Yoongi's nails occasionally digging into his hand as the sights of his house became too much to bear or hearing Yoongi's sniffles. Everything was gone. Everything that had ever mattered lay broken and twisted outside. Everything he had ever received and cherished was now nothing more than a heap of cracked up junk. He had gotten those things as a result of who he had once been and who he was now. He kept those things to remind himself that the new him was on the horizon if he was just willing to travel the distance, that the person he was today definitely wasn't the person he was yesterday. They were all reminders that, yes, he had struggled, but that struggle made him the person he was, even if he didn't like it. They contained all his memories, memories from times of enjoyment all the way up to his memory's final business days and the carnage after. Now, it was all gone. All gone. What would he reassure himself with now? His reassurance that he could be a better person in the near future had run dry. Where in the hell would he go now?

Then, he felt a squeeze on his hand. His eyes met Jimin's deep brown ones to see warmth and love. A caring and concerned expression had taken over Jimin's features, concern for the upset boy in front of him. His clutch on the younger's hand just got tighter as every second passed. His lips, which Yoongi found quite kissable, though you didn't hear that from him, were slightly parted, as if wanting to say something yet couldn't find the correct words. Yoongi didn't mind though, whatever words Jimin were to say, they would be enough for him to feel ten times better.

Then it hit Yoongi right upside the head. He never needed those things to become a better person. They were just dragging him further away from the person he wanted to be, discouraging him every chance they got. It was the boy holding his hand that yearned for him to be an even better person and never once felt like a chain on his leg. He didn't need his things to tell him he could be a better person when he had Jimin who did make him a better person. Yoongi buried his face into Jimin's neck, surprising the younger who was slightly confused before hugging back. The Rosa canina had been correct. Change had come. A very good change if you were to ask Yoongi. However, the flower's prediction was yet to be over.

“Move in with me.”

Word Count: 1100