"— and that's the last of it," i hear namjoon sighs as he drops seokjin's luggages by the end of the stairs, a few beads of sweat forming in the sides of his head. "seriously, what shit did your brother even brought?"

"you know him," i teased along, nodding towards the said boy who's busy carrying his other luggage back to his room. namjoon chuckled, bending down to once again carry the large suitcase, going the other way to follow my brother to his room.

i dragged my suitcase towards my room, my backpack hanging loosely against my shoulder blades. i couldn't help but feel slightly new to everything. sure everything looked exactly how they were but somehow i couldn't feel familiarity. i was so used to the homey vibe from namjoon's safe house that i forgot how shitty it felt living back on our house.

i heaved a breath as i felt the cold round knob come contact with my sweaty palms, a little hope coiled inside me that maybe....just maybe, when i open this damn door, he'll be there in his usual bored facade, reading some of my mangga collections and literally insulting the whole plot itself. i wish when i open this door, jimin will be there, laying on my bed, his body sprawled on it like he owns it.

i wish.

no matter how much i tell myself he's never coming back, i couldn't stop hoping still. no matter how hard i try to convince myself to move forward just like how jimin had told me— I couldn't.

there are time where i could last the day without even sparing him a thought. days that go so smoothly, filled with laughs and soft giggles. days that i feel like flying again— building myself again. that i just feel neutral, at ease. sometimes my mind is peaceful and not flood in it's usual dark and gloomy thoughts.

but even at the end of those wonderful days, my heart; my mind; and my soul would always lead back to him– only him.

i just miss him so fucking much.

fuck you, jimin. why do have to be such a bitch?

so it disappoints me to find the room empty. it breaks my heart to see the clean state of my bed, no signs of any jimin at all. "why are you doing this?" i found myself muttering to no one in particular, dropping my bags as i made my way towards my bed, plopping down.

i used to smell him in every corners of my room. his scent lingering in the walls of my room like a memory. out of everything in here, it was his fragrance that made my room feel at least a little bit home-like. it used to be my breather. his strawberry shampoo that used to stand as a perfume for my every pillow, lulling me to sleep no matter how loud and an asshole the world just is.

but instead, the smell of dust and the musky scent of old books was what filled my nostrils. gone was the one thing left of him– the very evidence that he was once here. that even for a short moment....he was mine.

he was here.

"so you're back," i hear a manly voice spoke from the door, snapping me from my train of thoughts as i push myself up from my bed.

i turn to see my father standing by the doorframe, his back pressed against it and his hands tucked in his chest, a cigarette in between his lips. "found that jimin guy yet?" he asks.

i remained silent, looking down on my shoes as I sat on the end of my bed. he sighed before i hear him walk closer, making me gulp. i have always hated my father. he's an asshole, a drunkard and a good for nothing bastard. he blames seokjin and i for the disappearance of our mother when in fact, he knows too damn well she's away with her mistress or whatever they call it.

i felt him tip the my chin before i found my hair being pulled up by none other than my asshole excuse of a father. "answer me when i'm asking, kid." he hisses. i could smell the strong stench of alcohol by the close proximity, his grip on my hair tight, making me yelp in pain.

i didn't normally cry when he did this to me. it was like a daily torture for me back then. but i was so used to my hyungs and seulgi baby-ing me, taking care of me and treating me as if i'm gentle as glass that had me forgetting my state at home.

the months long trip we had was so full of joyous memories that i forgot i still had an asshole father to go back to. i couldn't help but whimper, immediately missing my newly found family's warm embrace.

"p-papa..stop." i stutter, tears cascading down the side of my cheeks. "it hurts, papa." i whimper, only to have him gripping on my hair tightly as ever.

"such a pussy, can't even take this." he hisses. "you're too disrespectful. what? you think because you're sad and depressed, papa's going to be all over yo–"

"papa stop!" i hear seokjin yelling, pulling our father away from me. "that's enough, papa." he tells him, voice stern and firm, gone was the gentle and kind seokjin everyone have come to know. "you're hurting him."

our father didn't budge, not even a bit. a glare was etched across his face, his knuckles fisting as he pulls seokjin by his collar. "do i look like i give a fuck, huh, seokjin?" he growls. "he needs to learn his damn lessons. this disrespectful little shit!" he snaps, eyes darting at me upon finishing the last part.

"he's just a kid!" seokjin wails, trying his might to remove our father's grip on his collar.

i could only cry and watch the scene unfold, my heart tightening at such ungodly sight. i sat on my bed with tears brimming on the corners of my eyes, not able to protect seokjin like he protects me as his brother. i sat on my bed, too weak to make a move and make them stop from arguing. too weak to do anything– always too weak.

"– then maybe jungkook needs to man up and grow the fuck up, doesn't he?" our father spats, letting go of seokjin's collar before he groaned, glaring at the both of us. "you both are useless. you're both just like your stupid mother. disrespectful bastards!" he yells, advancing to land a hard punch on seokjin's cheeks.

at these times, i would always feel so useless, so weak and so small. depending on my brother for everything. i'd always feel guilt most of the times for making jin deal with almost all of my shits in life. i've always been scared and afraid to do anything, too much of a pussy to face reality.

now i'm stuck crying and pleading for my father to stop, unable to move and help my brother. i could only shiver in fear as seokjin tries all his best to keep my father away from me, not giving a single fuck about the bruises that would cost him once again for saving me for the millionth time in my entire lifetime.

my eyes landed on the phone thrown just below my bed, slowly reaching for it as i sucked in a breath and dialled namjoon's phone. "h-hyung.." i sobbed once he picked on the sixth ring, muttering something about hold, probably struggling to hold his phone while driving.

"wait bab– jungkook is that you?" i could hear the alarm in his voice. seokjin never lets me use his phone. he had always hated it when somebody tries to borrow it, even me.

"n-namjoon hyung. come back. appa...he's hurting seokji–" i tried to say as fast and as clear as i am in between screams, watching as another punch landed on my brother's other cheek, causing him to stumble on the floor, groaning in pain.

it didn't take long to feel my father's large hands on my hair, pulling on it as i feel the painful grappling on my scalp. i could only cry and beg, too hopeless and blue. "useless shit!" he spat at me, dragging off the bed and downstairs, throwing me on the floor. "you don't deserve to live, you freak!" he yells as i felt a kick landed on my side.

then another,

and another one.

i felt the kickings stopped, looking up to see my brother once again trying his best to hold my father down. there tears spilling in the corners of his eyes as well, wailing for my father to stop.

just then the door bursted open, revealing a fuming namjoon. his eyes locked mine, jaw clenching as he sees me helplessly lying on the floor. then his gaze snapped to his boyfriend, eyes darkening as he cussed and charged towards our father, grabbing him by the collar and sending him multiple punches. "you motherfucker!" he yelled in rage.

"j-joonie stop!" i hear seokjin gasped. i could only hiss in pain, unable to move. "namjoon!" seokjin yells, pulling namjoon away from our now beaten up father.

seokjin rushed to my side, earning a hiss from me when he tried to lift me up. i could feel the sharp aching of on my sides, making it unable for me to breathe properly. "kook-ah, where does it hurt?" i could hear the panic in his voice, gently caressing my cheeks as he plants a soft peck on the crown of my head.

i closed my eyes, breathing heavily as i felt myself being lifted of the ground, earning yet another batch of hisses and groans of pain to escape my mouth. "we need to take him to the hospital." i heard namjoon said. seokjin must've been worried about our father causing for namjoon to sigh, his breath faintly fanning the side of my face. "i called yoongi over, told me to call the police. don't worry, that asshole will finally be in ja–"

"he's our father, namjoon." i hear seokjin argues. "we can't just get him arrested."

"yeah and that so-called father just broke your brother's ribs and ripped your face." namjoon argues, his voice venomous and harsh. i couldn't help but open my eyes, shocked to hear namjoon this mad. it felt so foreign hearing namjoon speak in a way. he was always the calm and collected one. but all of that seemed to fade away as his eyes examines every cuts and bruises painted all over seokjin's features. "– i won't ever let that asshole lay a hand on you or even jungkook again. that bitch needs to go to jail, seokjin. whether you like it or not."

i could only make out a figment of their beings. my gaze slowly shaking and blurring as i try my might to stay awake.

my mind wandered to so many things— things that consisted nothing but park jimin. i wish he was here. i wish he could save me, or even just hug me and lift all my worries away. i wish he could tell me everything's going to be okay, that my father is nothing but a piece of shit so we could laugh about it. i wish his warm and gentle arms were the ones enveloped on me right now, rather than namjoon's large and strong ones.

but he isn't.

then everything went blank.