Addicted | Yoonmin✔

|twenty five|

Yoongi didn't even look up from his paperwork when Jihoon entered the café and sat down right in front of Yoongi. He rested his chin in his hand as he looked adoringly at Yoongi, admiring the maturity in his ex's face. He looked cute, with his glasses sitting low on his nose. Yoongi never had glasses when he and Jihoon were together, and must have gotten them recently. It made him seem so smart and sophisticated. Well, Yoongi was very smart. Just didn't have the diploma to prove it.

"Hi," Jihoon said innocently, leaning forward to press his finger to Yoongi's nose. Yoongi looked over the rim of his glasses at Jihoon, who was smiling like an idiot.

"Hi," the shorter man replied coolly. Jihoon chuckled and went in to poke Yoongi's nose again, but Yoongi swatted his hand away irritably. "Fuck off, I'm just finishing this paper." Yoongi took his glasses off and organised the papers before looking at Jihoon. "Okay, you have my attention now. What is it?"

Yoongi had told Jin earlier to keep an eye out on them, since Jihoon was not to be trusted. Yoongi had also made sure to text Jimin to tell him that he was meeting up with Jihoon, but this time it was on his home turf. And, Namjoon was supposed to arrive at any moment, and with his towering height he was sure to intimidate Jihoon (nevermind the fact that the man was a real softie).

"So, there's an update on your mom. Care to hear about it?" Jihoon feigned sympathy, by making his voice extra soft and furrowing his eyebrows together. Yoongi didn't want to sympathy, he just wanted the truth. He needed to know to what colour sky he was waking up to tomorrow. He needed to know how to plan out his days: if he'll need to set time aside for mourning or not. He must prepare himself for worsening cravings.

"Yeah, lay it on me."

Jihoon placed his hand next to Yoongi's, their pinkies centimetres apart. "She has cancer, Yoongi. Brain cancer. Apparently, the tumour can be removed, but it's a pricey operation..." Yoongi released the breath he has been keeping the entire time. "If the operation is preformed, there's a good chance she'll survive. And, if not..."

She has a chance, though. A chance for us to make up.

"How much?" Yoongi's voice could cut through glass at that moment. Jihoon took a napkin and wrote a number down on the paper. When Yoongi saw the amount, he nearly pissed himself. "Holy shit," He breathed out and slumped back, rolling his head back as the stress settled down on his chest. "That's a lot, 'ey?"

Jihoon patted Yoongi's hand. "You don't have long, Yoongi. A few months. She said she doesn't want anything to do with you, but maybe this is your chance to prove to her that you're not what she thinks." Yoongi withdrew his hand from Jihoon's, like his touch was made of fire.

"Can't you give me a number? Some way to make contact with her, or even your mom?"

Jihoon shook his head. "Sorry, babe. I'll ask my mom to make sure, but you know how they feel about you. Maybe the hospital. I'll forward you the hospital's contact details. Ask for a Mrs Min, maybe they'll know."

Yoongi felt the dam behind his eyelids well up, but he refused to let the wall break. He needed to be strong. "You sound like you have something more to say. Spit it out."

Jihoon couldn't help but smirk, but he was quick to hide it. His next words came out hushed, in a whisper. "I have a way you can make money. Fast. I need a dealer. You don't need to use, but it's good money, and you know your way around."

It took every ounce of Yoongi's self-control, every single ounce, to not pounce on Jihoon right at that moment and beat his face to a blood pulp. "Shut the fuck up. I'm not getting involved in that world again." His skinny hand tightened into a fist, the veins in his hand stark against his pale skin.