"Yoongi?" Jimin cautiously asked, levering himself onto the couch next to the elder. He ignored the dangerous aura surging from him and awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder, feigning concern for him.

He expected Yoongi to wipe his eyes and tell him to leave, but was surprised when Yoongi curled up and began to bawl into his arms - squeezing himself into the corner of the couch and burying his face in his sleeves.

 "Yoongi?" He tapped his shoulders. "Y-yoongi hyung?" He glanced at the letter tossed on the couch, taunting him with its open pages. Should he read it? Maybe it would help him understand. . . . would that be snooping? Was he allowed to read it? He really didn't want to get in trouble for reading something that wasn't his. . . . .

 He was Park Jimin. Park Jimin will do what Park Jimin wants. Except when it's bad. Was this bad? Would he get yelled at?

The younger shooed his thoughts away and picked up the letter,  risking it anyway and read quickly as his eyes began to grow wider. Oh my god, he thought, what. . .what happened? When did this happen? Was it after I left?

His head whipped to the elder. "Yoongi." 

"Go away." 

Jimin heard his heart fall. "Yoongi hyung," he whispered.

"I need some time. Leave. . . leave me alone."

No. Not this again. 

Never again, Jimin decided. He was not going to let this happen to Yoongi one more time; if he could stop it, then that was exactly what he was going to do. If Yoongi fell in the dark when Jimin left, then the best he could do was bring him to the light again. Not a second time. This wasn't going to happen for a second time.

"No."

Yoongi slowly raised his head, and Jimin was met with puffy eyes and pink tear stains painted on his pale skin. "What do you mean. . . Park Jimin why are you still here? Everyone already left!" His looked lost and scared when he shoved Jimin away from him. "WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?! WHY-"

Jimin grabbed his arms as Yoongi's eyes became blurry once more, fists clenching and heart hammering in his chest. "I. . . i'm not going to leave. I won't leave again, especially if you need me more than you or I realize. I'm not going to go. I'm sorry."

"WHY WOULD YOU BE SORRY, YOU PUNK? YOU-" He broke into another sob as he cradled his head in his hands. "Why would you be sorry, when it's me who was always doing everything wrong? Appa. . . Appa is dead and he probably died thinking that all he ever did in his life was hurt everyone, even if he was trying to "protect" himself. I know him, Jimin. No matter how many times he forced me away I saw the fear in his eyes. I don't know why he was scared, but he probably died thinking he was a coward and if I could have stood up and talked to him, maybe we could have worked things out! Maybe, maybe we could have-" A sob racked through him and he struggled to put his words together. "It's all my fault. I could have done something. . . everything happened because of me-"

"Yoongi, nothing is your fault-"

"DON'T SAY  THAT! WHAT DO YOU KNOW? WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW?!" His voice reduced to a whisper when he saw how panicked the other looked. "Where were you when I needed you? You were gone. You were gone and it terrified me. . ."

  An eery silence filled the room as Yoongi averted his eyes and tried to catch his breath, barely noticing that Jimin scooted over to gingerly wrap his arms around him and murmured into his ear. "Do you want to come over?"

Yoongi sniffed. "Why?"

"We should talk."

He pondered for a bit. Was he ready to let everything loose? Would he unravel the bandages he wrapped around his heart to reveal the weak pulse he carried? Yoongi wanted to become strong. He didn't want to end up like his father; relying on brute force as "strength" and dying thinking he was less than worthless. Yoongi wanted to hold pure strength in his hands and be proud of it; one that could catch him every time he tripped for those times that his father couldn't. And maybe the key to that strength was staring at him that very moment - the boy who saw him break ever since Day 1. 

"Yoongi hyung," Jimin stood, leaning over the elder and put his hand out with warmth traced into his skin. "Take my hand."

 As Yoongi slipped his thin, pale hand into Jimin's warm, small one, he finally realized that maybe, the friendly light who shined years ago, never faded away.