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His head hurt, though whether it was from crying or Yoongi's attempts to break in Jimin could no longer tell. He stretched out on the couch, pressing an ice pack to his forehead and sighing at the small relief it brought him. He wished his troubles could melt like the ice, slip away into nothing. Instead, a trickle of cold water slipped down his face, and he gritted his teeth at another wave of pain, this time in his stomach.

Why did he have to fight like this? He wanted Yoongi. He wanted his mate there, cuddled up with him on the couch so he could bury himself in someone else's warmth and forget his pain for awhile. He wanted to feel loved again.

But he'd probably ruined that. If he went back to Yoongi Yoongi would probably just snub him, say he wasn't worth the trouble he'd caused. He'd gone too far already, and Yoongi's resistance to his decision would probably only last until he had him where he could reject him.

Against his better judgement, Jimin started to cry again.

Why did it have to hurt so much? If he was supposed to be free, why did he find himself here, tied down by the pain and the fear of losing what he'd told himself he didn't want anymore?

Why did he have to want Yoongi again?

He hesitantly lifted the ice pack off his face, glancing at the clock. It was almost time for him to take his dose again. What if he didn't? What if he didn't resist Yoongi? What if... he swallowed, looking up at the ceiling. What if he just listened without speaking? Would Yoongi give up on his own, then?

The seconds ticked away. Jimin felt the effects of the drug wearing off, and to his surprise some of the pain in his head went with them. He let out a long, deep breath, closing his eyes and wondering if he could sleep.


Jimin didn't answer. The unexpected relief that came with his mate's voice was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he relaxed, letting the ice pack fall to the floor and instead wrapping his arms around one of the old pillows on the couch. For once, his head was blissfully empty.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Yoongi said. "For being like this."

Jimin waited.

"I should have listened when you asked me to get out of your head, or approached you directly. Putting you in pain is the exact opposite of what I really wanted to do, but I've been pretty stupid lately, as you can tell."

His low chuckle drifted across their bond, and Jimin felt his eyelids droop, warmth enveloping him as he rolled onto his side, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"I know I've been terrible to you," Yoongi said. "Please, Min. Tell me how I can fix it. How can I make it up to you?"

Jimin didn't answer. Instead, he basked in the warmth and relief Yoongi brought, clinging to it as he curled up on the couch, letting the rest of his tension drain out of him.

Don't leave, he managed, eyelids growing heavier and heavier.


Don't leave me.

Jimin didn't hear his answer. He was already asleep. 

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