HOBI POV:

As we set down the artworks we've just carried in, gently placing them down in the large spacious gallery dedicated solely for Amparo's art- I notice the absence of one specific mate.

"Where's (Y/N)?" I ask, the vestiges of panic seeping in because everyone else is here and she isn't. And the bond between us is already fraught- and everyone is prone to being extremely protective at the moment, because (Y/N) is our unclaimed mate- which makes everyone on edge- everyone has been since Ryan ssi and Deok-mi ssi entered the nest.

It's almost scary how in unison everyone freezes- bodies stiffening as they turn to scan the room for a figure that isn't there. I can see tinges of red beginning to bleed into their irises- know that it's mirrored in my own. There's guilt dawning on their expressions- as if no-one truly realised that she was left alone, with the two curators.

My abilities are thrumming with the need to assess and protect. She had come to the nest in a vulnerable, fragile state- she was still in that state and for her to be left so exposed to people who were strangers to her, it propelled my feet into a frantic run- the others hurrying behind me, undoubtedly having reached the same conclusion.

But somehow it's Yoongi hyung who whirs past me- a blur before he bursts through the open door- the rest of us hot on his heels. 

"What do you think you're doing to my mate?" he demands- voice smoothened into hard cut glass- sharp and a threat despite its forcefully calm tone.

The question makes my soul lurch with fear and as the rest of us fill the space I see his fists clench- one around the phone he'd had out to catalogue the number of artworks. Now squeezed mercilessly in his hand.

And then he stiffens and freezes. And I can see his power and control pushing against the edges of his frame- desperate to be unleashed as he takes in the situation, feet slightly wide in their stance- shoulders tense; unconsciously shifting into an attacking posture.

Ready to throw himself in to the fray, and it's then that his words sink in and my mind processes them. He just acknowledged her as his mate. In front of all of us. In front of them. In front of a (Y/N) who I see is sandwiched between the two curators- face paling and disbelief and pain in her eyes as she tiptoes to see over Ryan's body which blocks her from view. My blood boils at the way his body becomes a shield barring her from us, no fear or regret in his face which turns to take us in. But he does step aside a bit, parting to show (Y/N)'s body which is beginning to tremble- I realise with horror that either the two have scared her somehow or that Yoongi hyung's words are pushing her into a state of shock- though I'm willing to bet it could be a mix of the two.

My feet move me past Yoongi hyung, placing me until I'm in front of Ryan and trying to determine the best way to get (Y/N) out of there- instincts screaming that the two represent threats to her vulnerable state even as I see the lack of hostility in their faces.

Deok-mi places her hand on (Y/N)'s arm- a touch that makes my vision red with protective anger but that all leeches away when rather than grounding her makes her stumble- staggering slightly. My hand bolts out to steady her, drawing her in towards my awaiting arms- wrapping them around her and holding her protectively within the cradle my body makes for her.

I pulse out healing energy- soft, cool, and sweet to help stabilise her, to push any shock away and calm her thudding heart- which echoes loudly in my ears, amplified by the silence and lack of breathing except hers which is slowly returning to normal under my touch.

"Are you okay?" I murmur to her just as Yoongi hyung advances and asks again.

"What. Were. You. Doing. To. My. Mate?" he asks, each word forcefully punctuated and spat out- eyes crimson.

The animosity in his tone is what stirs (Y/N) from where she stands dazed in my arms- and I retreat the healing power with a jolt of guilt- maybe I'd overdone it a bit, I could see the beginning of fatigue curving her body inwards.

"Stop. Just stop." She says- voice commanding and still soft.

Everyone freezes. 

"Stop it Yoongi. How many times will you make mistakes? How many times will the people in my life be misunderstood? And why now- why am I your mate now but I never was before?" she demands- voice slightly wobbly, given the drowsiness I know she's trying to fight, and the angry hysteria that's beginning to filter through.

Jin hyung rushes forward- places a hand on her arm but she doesn't acknowledge him.

"They didn't do anything to me. Am I not permitted to be held between two friends?" she continues to press on and I can feel her shake- anger pushing past the sleep she's fighting.

Yoongi hyung stops and turns. The red begins to abate and he takes a step forward- and my heart twists with hope, anticipation.

"I—" he starts but for once there isn't that underlying strength that's always in it, there's a weakness in it, tailing off at whatever expression he sees in her eyes.

"Why can't you say anything? Why can't you decide if you want me or not? Why are you hurting me?" she beseechingly asks- voice rising in volume, panic colouring it and then suddenly it seems like the fight drains out of her, the strength to keep up dissolves and she suddenly crumples- body folding into itself. A cry tears out of my throat and my arms tighten around her, sinking to the ground with her to prevent any force from crushing her. The others rush forward and I smoothen out her hair, wipe the tear tracks and hold her close- the sleep couldn't be won over, that floaty daze that came with healing; amplified because of my instincts towards her and somehow sending her to rest.

Yoongi hyung's eyes are wide and aching when I look up, I reach out a hand for him- to invite him in, to tell him that it's fine- that he has a long way to go but he can make things right. But instead he stares at the hand as if it's a weapon, backpedals as he stumbles slightly- complexion blanched as he takes in the sight of her. And in a gesture that mirrors hers and has Joon and Jiminie rushing forward to stabilise him- is his falling to his knees as if the strings holding him up have been cut. He can't move his eyes away from (Y/N) and still I note the phone he clutches into his hand- tightly as if it's the only thing holding him from wavering and shaking.

And when Jiminie pries his hand open, the phone falls out of his grasp onto the ground and his eyes slide off (Y/N) to glare vehemently at the phone- as if pouring his frustrations and self-depreciation onto the inanimate object.

And his posture is slumped, shattered. The curve of his back and the way his neck falls forward is the sign of someone who's defeated. By the war within himself.

And I wonder just how long he'll pretend to be okay.

YOONGI POV:

Weak. Despicable. Coward. That's what I think of myself. I've been hiding behind my past pains- too weak and cowardly to try and fight those demons, to put them to rest- hiding behind past experiences as a way to cope with the anxiety and nerves that come with new experiences, new relationships. I'm despicable because I knew just how much my actions were hurting (Y/N) and yet I didn't broach her to try and lessen that pain- I didn't extend my hand out with the offer of being hers.

I glare at my phone, as if somehow hoping it can feel my hate and resentment and anger bubbling out- but the inanimate object can't understand. No-one can really understand how I feel. My phone these days has become more of an enemy than a companion- something to while away the time, to capture memories of my mates or just to hear the voices drifting out the speaker- and now it's my enemy, something I used to push her away, allowed to become a barrier.

And I despise and loathe myself for it. For the person I'm becoming.

And when instincts had won over rationality- when the words 'my mate' had slipped out so easily, so easy to roll off my tongue and claim her- it had wrought more damage, did more harm than it could ever do good. And her unconscious figure attested to that.

Each question she had thrown at me had hit me worse than if I'd been tortured, tormented- each syllable so profoundly thick of grief and pain and suffering- all emotions that I'd put there, compelled her to endure. 

But they still swim around my mind, poison worming it's way through every crevice- occupying and sweeping any other thought until that's all I can hear and think ring in my ears.

Hobi offers out his hand- that ever-constant reminder of support and stability, the reminder that my mates are always there- no matter how horribly I've messed things up. And it's the last straw- I can't do this anymore. Can't live with this agony and burden. Can't go on existing without the eighth part of my soul achingly empty.

I've hurt her. And I need to fix it. Even if it means tearing apart everything and every part of me to fix it.

Now's the time to face those demons. There's no turning away this time.

I numbly allow Joon and Jimin help me up, but my eyes trail back to (Y/N)- at the way she vulnerably lies there until Jin hyung leans over to scoop her up- a tenderness in his eyes which sear through me with the heat of want. I want that. To show her that tenderness- but holding back when I thought it was best turned out to be the worst decision ever.

I can see myself slipping into the image of the monster I'd feared I'd become and hurt her- keeping away from her worsened things. And it's nauseous to think that if this doesn't work out- then there's nothing stopping me from becoming the villain human tales paint us as.

I blindly stumble after them not noting that the phone still lies abandoned on the ground- my anger, resentment and bitterness lying there with it.

There's just grief and despair as I walk in. Walk in and pray to every and any existing deity- to let me reverse the damage I've inflicted. To save her from the worst version of myself.

(Y/N) POV:

When I wake up- a feeling of despair and anger floods me. Weak. Utterly weak. That's what I was. Unable to stand my ground firmly without passing out from exhaustion. I feel anger towards myself- for being weak, for being unable to stand the hurt and for being unable to just scream at Yoongi, scream at him until my throat is raw and let him know just how much agony and grief I feel knowing that he's there but still infinitely far from me.

The soft pillows, thick blankets and perfectly cushioning mattress does nothing to make me comfortable. I feel restless lying there but there's a body holding me, stopping me from twisting away, storming through the house and just shattering in my misery.

I feel foolish and pitiful as the waves of anger and want make my eyes sting- I don't want to cry. Don't want my tears to come out at the moment I need to pretend that it doesn't hurt, that it doesn't feel like poison flows through my veins everytime I see Yoongi distance himself, push himself away, slide his eyes away disinterestedly as if he'd never been looking.

Am I a fool? Stupid? Overly naïve and hopeful for believing that I see a glimmer of pain in his eyes, for seeing the longing I feel mirrored in his eyes? Even though there's no bond tied between us- I look at him and can't help but feel he's hiding away, cowering from happiness because something else holds him back.

Something worse than the fact that he thinks he'll hurt me.

The conversation I'd overheard comes drifting back to mind.

When I'd heard Jin oppa vehemently explain to Namjoonie why it was I couldn't walk home even partially at night. When he'd confessed through a panicked voice that the vision he'd had regarded me being in danger at night. Had seen it in the way that all of them insisted on accompanying me home- there was always a mate to walk with me, drive me back and make sure I got home safely. At first it had hurt that they'd hidden knowledge about me from me, but then I saw the worry pinch their faces- that was only smoothened when I waved goodbye before closing my apartment door, and I understood it was there way of trying to take care of me without burdening me with the knowledge.

But this...whatever Yoongi was doing was something else. 

Even if he'd been involved in that vision- they weren't concrete; they could be altered and changed. Every fibre of my being, every gut feeling, every whirring thought my mind produced all screamed at me that something else was happening. Something bothering him.

And I wanted to talk to him, to ask him to tell me what it was- even if he didn't see me as a mate, such burdens were better shared than shouldered alone.

I saw the struggle wearing down at him, causing him to become even more silent, and not only to me but moments when he seemed alone and vacant despite being surrounded by everyone- a faraway look in his eyes.

I want him to let me in but it's so hard to push against a wall that has no door, no crack.

So I hurt and he hurts. From afar and without sharing the pain. Lessening it.

Hot frustrated tears trickle down my cheeks before I can stop them, leaving a wet trail behind and I shift my head to muffle my cries into my pillow- wanting to change things but being hopelessly stuck. The arms around me tighten in surprise and then a voice calls out in alarm.

"Hey hey sweetheart. It's okay, can you show me your face?" a sweet voice asks. Jin oppa. And there's something so soothing and comforting and beseeching about his voice- something that painfully reminds me of JB oppa and the pillar of support he's always been that I turn and seek refuge in him just as I would with JB oppa.

I burrow my head into his chest and soak the front with shaky cries- tears for me but also for Yoongi. Tears that he seems trapped and no-one can hear that silent plea for help. And tears for the longing that threatens to shatter every part of me. The part of my soul that seems to wither and decay and die- achingly empty and void of the bond I share with him, yet to be prompted into blooming. I want to both escape and stand my ground- flee but I don't know whether it's away from Yoongi or towards him. 

Everything is so confusing, so overwhelming that I just don't know what to think anymore. And I cry for the hope that withers away, shrivels up and lessens daily. And cry because I don't know how to verbalise the pain.

But then there's the sound of someone shifting within the room- a room I realise I haven't recognised. A room that is tastefully matched to my likes and preferences and style- a room that speaks of comfort and sanctuary.

But the awe doesn't even have time to settle when a rough, raspy voice breaks the air and speaks no...pleads.

"(Y/N), I don't care if you'll hate me from now until forever but can we please, please talk?" a voice asks- thick and choked with emotion.

A voice that finally, finally sheds a fraction of light of the inner torment that they're going through. I slowly move my head from its refuge on Jin oppa's chest and tentatively and slowly goes to peek over his broad shoulder.

And meet a gaze that is equally haunted, disturbed and hurting. I meet red-rimmed eyes with a pair of my own. I see a storm of emotions, thoughts and rawness floating about unrestrained, flooding brown irises that shine wetly. 

I look at Yoongi and swallow past the lump in my throat.

And force voice into my throat.

"Yes. We have a lot to talk about." I rasp back, wincing at the trembling tenor of my voice.

And rather than feeling ease or some sort of relief that it's finally happening. I feel a sense of foreboding begin to creep up- as if what'll follow will be nothing less than a raging tempest. One I don't know if the two of us will survive from.

(AHHHH! *RUNS AROUND SCREAMING LIKE A HEADLESS CHICKEN* WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT JUST HAPPENED? WHAT TALK? WHAT PAIN? I HATE TO BE THE ONE TO SAY THIS BUT I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN! OR DO I? ANYWAYS! AN EMOTIONAL BOMB OF A CHAPTER- EMOTIONS EVERYWHERE; AND I WONDER HOW THEY'LL MOVE ON FROM THIS. KINDA FELT SORRY FOR YOONGI NGL WHEN SHE KEPT THROWING QUESTIONS AT HIM BUT THE CONFRONTATION WILL HAPPEN NEXT SO STAY TUNED! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS MY LOVES AND STAY SAFE!)

When all it takes is a moment, an instant and everything you ever knew slips from your fingers leaving you uncertain and confused about just where to go from there. Don't fear- because there'll always be hope, salvation or some sort of force there to help ground you- all is not lost.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3