Serendipity {Vmin}

5. The adopted

Recommended song: James Spiteri - Alone

Min Yoongi had good days. There were bright ones, when he enjoyed the sunlight, the snow, the rain – of course all that from his window. There were days, when he left his room, had lunch with the others, when he was able to converse, when he could smile. Days, when he felt like he has a home, a family, a life.

Min Yoongi had terrible days. There were dark ones, when everything seemed bad, when the world wanted to cast him out, when everything was frightening and threatening. When he winced at every little sound, when he could only fall asleep with a baseball bat in his hand. Days, sometimes weeks, when he didn't leave his room and didn't utter a word to anybody.

Then he had neutral days. Grey days, when he couldn't do anything with himself. When he would speak with someone but he just couldn't make it, when he wanted to enjoy the scenery, but wasn't able to. When he considered taking a train and never speaking with anyone ever again, but never got as far to actually do it. Days, when he didn't want to think about anything, when he didn't want to think about that but just couldn't think about something else, couldn't just not think, so he got stuck on the awkward border of the draining dark and the cheerful light, where almost just the nothing was left.

The boy leaned onto his desk with his headphones on, sleeping, that's why he didn't hear the careful knock on his door. He was awake all night to work on one of his new ideas. And maybe because the fact that he wasn't able to sleep until he was half dead from tiredness. It turned afternoon when he reached the point that he couldn't continue, and he fell asleep. However, just a few minutes later, someone started to gently shake his shoulder. Yoongi turned around with a look of horror painted on his face, but it was only Namjoon. Not a monster, not a robber, not a murderer. It took a few moments for the boy to collect himself. He slid his headphones down to his neck and lifted his eyes up to the other.

"Can we talk? "

Yoongi nodded and shuffled to the other end of the room with the doctor, where a sofa and two armchairs took place. The room was ruled by dusk, as the grey curtains all hung in front of the windows, and the only light was coming from the screens of Yoongi's computers.

The boy sat down to one of the chairs and folded his arms before his chest. His blond locks were all messed up, his face was hollow, sick-looking. His skin wasn't even pale but ash-gray, the dark circles around his eyes couldn't be hidden even by the round glasses sitting on his nose. Yoongi wore baggy, black clothes that hung on his body like if a skeleton was dressed up.

Namjoon brought his brows together worriedly as he eyed him up and down.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you have enough medicine left?"

It took a while for Yoongi to answer, like it was hard for him to form the words.

"There are a few... Somewhere."

The doctor shook his head.

"I will bring down more later. How are you feeling lately?"

"I didn't know this is the time of the control."

"It isn't, I'm just being curious. Like the beginning of a normal conversation."

"Then, good. And you?"

Namjoon broke out in laughter, and Yoongi smiled too.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

The doctor started to squirm uncomfortably.