Hoseok watched Yoongi count his pills.

"Yoongi, why aren't you taking them?"

The older male smiled, emptying the entire bottle of blue pills on the coffee table. He sat cross legged on the floor, fingers spacing each pill away from each other by mere millimetres. 

"I'm just wondering," he counted, "if twelve pills will be enough to overdose on."

Hoseok's blood froze.

"Yoongi? What the heck?" The brunette set down his book. "You can't think that."

"Why not?"

"Because! It's. . .scary."

Yoongi shook his head, chuckling. He went back to carefully putting back each pill in the bottle, one by one, counting to himself. "Scary, eh? You know what else is scary? That fact that it doesn't feel like it is."

"The fact that bathtubs suddenly feel like lakes. That if you stay underneath them for just the right amount of time," he sighed, as if a pretty memory were playing in his head, "you'll be transported to another realm of blue."

Hoseok stared at him, feeling his heart dip into jumps. "Is that why you've been taking such long baths? Because you've been. . .trying to drown yourself?"

"Oh come on, don't put it that way. You know how Stephen Hawking said that at the other side of a black hole, there will be a way out?" He screwed the bottle cap on, placing it inside his jeans' pocket, "well, what if at the bottom of a lake, there's a way out?"

Yoongi exclaimed. "What if I would get transported to the night sky?" He smiled in awe. "And I'd become a star then?"

The younger male felt ants crawling up and down his spine, bones slipping through his morning clothes, burning in the white wine sunlight streaming through the almost-white flock of hair that Yoongi had.

"Why are you thinking this all of a sudden?" Hoseok slipped off the couch and knelt beside Yoongi, meeting his eyes closely. 

"Oh, I've always thought about this. Just never out loud." Yoongi laughed.

Yoongi laughed.

"How can you be laughing at this?" Hoseok knew that Yoongi wasn't taking his pills these days, hadn't been for the past week and a half, as December was in its first week now, yet not letting it snow just yet. Yoongi had said two days ago that he was saving them.

"Why not, Hoseok?" That on-the-edge smile back. "If you can laugh at knock-knock jokes, why can't I laugh at this?"

"Because those are jokes." Hoseok started to feel the worrying fade away, dismissing Yoongi's comments as just dark humour. "Stop joking. I'm not in the mood," Hoseok leaned his head on the blonde's shoulder.

"I'm not joking."

Hoseok lifted his head, staring at the older's face. Yoongi's pretty lips were still there, Yoongi's dark eyes were still there, but where was Yoongi himself?

"D-did I do or say something wrong, lately? Have I done anything to upset you?"

"No."

"Then why the fuck are you having thoughts of drowning and overdosing?"

Yoongi clenched his jaw and his smile was troubling, just ready to snap, like an elastic band stretched and pulled too far. 

"You think that it's all about you, isn't it?" Yoongi stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking towards the window, gazing down at the endless sea of naked branches and rotten leaves.

"You think that if you love me right and care for me right, then I could never go wrong, right?" Yoongi laughed a bitter laugh, drumming his fingers along the window's glass.

"Am I not enough for you, Yoongi?" Hoseok quietly said.

"No."

Hoseok felt his insides tangle.

"And you won't ever be." 

Hoseok felt his insides shrivel.

"I thought you loved me, Yoongi."

Yoongi spun around, locking genuine eyes with him. "Of course I love you. And I always will. But if you're thinking that your love will suddenly take away all my sadness and anger and these," he gestured to his chest, "these people inside me who come and go, these parts of me who've made me forget who I am. Who I was."

"I'm in parts, Hoseok. Parts of different emotions and impulses."

"But aren't you happy when you're with me? When you're laughing with me and kissing me?"

Yoongi sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Of course I am."

"Then why the fuck are you still confused?"

"'Cause you're not enough for me. Your love, your smile, your laugh — it's not enough to make me stay." Yoongi walked over to him, placing both hands on Hoseok's shoulder firmly but gently.

"Then let me try, Yoongi. I-I promise, I'll become enough for you. I'll make sure I'm enough of a reason to make you stay." Hoseok grabbed Yoongi's hands, clutching them and eliciting a tone on the verge of breaking.

"You can't."

"Why not?"

Yoongi pried his hands away from Hoseok's clutch.

"Because I'm not enough to make me stay."

Hoseok tried to not let those words sink in the air and its heavy temperature. He wrapped his arms around Yoongi, holding on tight, begging with his touch to stay.

"Hoseok, I really do love you. I'm so in love with you."

He wrapped his arms around the brunette.

"But love isn't enough to take it all away." Hoseok shook his head in his hold, not wanting to hear Yoongi's words, but the older pried on. "You can't love someone's sadness away."

"Nor can you love someone's parts back together."

Yoongi loosened his arms from around Hoseok, stepping back to look the younger in the eyes. 

"I used to think I could live in darkness for the rest of my life if it meant being able to gaze upon you. But a bottle of pills isn't equivalent to a sky full of stars — even if you're there too."

"Yoo--"

Hoseok paused. 

His words wouldn't come. Because his headache had now.

It was like a hammer, banging on his forehead and on the lids of his eyes. He stumbled back, resting a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

"Hoseok? What's wrong?"

Yoongi was disappearing from his field of view, blurring like a sea. His own hands were shaking, his head was pulsating, his mouth was tasting bitter.

The vomit was coming up.

Hoseok stumbled and almost slipped as he ran to the bathroom. Rushing through the door, he doubled over the toilet and puked.

He retched, feeling his insides, from his stomach to his head, tangle and shrivel and everything he had previously eaten came up.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and big. Yoongi's.

"It's okay, Hoseok. It's okay." He breathed, whispering and reassuring Hoseok.

Hoseok wanted to cry, and a few vomits later, he was. He was crying as he felt Yoongi witnessing him puke and wail and shake, the thoughts of Yoongi's words, 'not enough, not enough,' rumbling through his head.

He didn't know whether he was crying because of the pain in his head or in his heart.

As saliva dripped down from his mouth and he felt his limbs stick to the tiles, he managed to whisper, "Yoongi. My p-pills. . .in my blue suitcase." He struggled to breathe. He couldn't move.

Yoongi rushed off the floor beside him, footsteps trudging on the hardwood flooring. Hoseok could hear the bedroom door swing open. 

The brunette flushed the toilet and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his heart pump faster and faster, his breath going faster and faster, the headache not subsiding despite him trying to vomit up the pain.

He was still doubled over the toilet, coughing and gasping, when he felt Yoongi hand him a pill from the bottle with a glass of water. He didn't kneel down beside Hoseok.

The pained brunette gulped his medication down, sweat beads still formed on his forehead, bangs wet, hands clammy. He got up from the tile floor, washing his hands, pinpricks of pain still left in his head and on eyelids.

He knew he was to owe Yoongi an explanation about this.

But when Hoseok turned around and looked at the older, he seemed to owe him some other explanation entirely.

For there was Yoongi, red eyes and pale lips, clutching Hoseok's blue scarf.

___