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Stream CBTM 🫂😘 Don't forget to read previous chapter too and stay updated 🫂

*Sometimes we need fantasy to survive the reality.*

Yoongi could hear Jimin's footsteps creeping into the bathroom, and as he drew nearer, he could sense the warmth radiating from him. It felt comforting, but Yoongi couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed. Then, Jimin's warm hands wrapped around Yoongi's waist and stomach from behind, soothing his racing heart. Yoongi's breath hitched for a moment before steadying.

"Hyung, you alright?" Jimin's voice was laced with concern as he reached out, his hand disappearing into Yoongi's grasp.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just haven't been hit this hard by booze in ages. I'll snap out of it soon," Yoongi reassured him, his fingers gently tracing patterns on Jimin's hand resting on his stomach.

As Jimin peered at Yoongi's reflection in the mirror, he leaned in, resting his chin on Yoongi's shoulder, and gently brushed his cheek against Yoongi's neck. He knew he was getting hooked on the contact, but he couldn't help himself.

When Yoongi caught sight of Jimin's reflection in the mirror, he was struck by the image of Jimin as a delicate cherry blossom caressing his skin. Jimin was never simple or plain to Yoongi; he was always a complex, beautiful mess.

In that moment, it felt like Jimin transformed into thousand leaves and rained down on him like cherry blossoms, overwhelming Yoongi. How could he possibly contain all of Jimin's beauty? How could he love every part of Jimin all at once?

Turning to Jimin, Yoongi enveloped him in a tight embrace, his large hands cradling Jimin's neck and cheeks. Jimin was like a fragile flower in Yoongi's hands, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

They locked eyes for a beat, not giving a damn about the weird vibe in the room. Yoongi's mind was already racing with thoughts, knowing he had to catch up with Namjoon ASAP. But then he realized some things couldn't wait, so he spoke up, maybe to make it crystal clear to Jimin that he was everything to him.

"I wrote lyrics for you," he murmured, his chest fluttering, his husky voice bouncing off the bathroom walls and sending Jimin's stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

"You did?" Jimin met his gaze, his curiosity piqued.

"Yeah..." Yoongi's thumbs caressed the skin under Jimin's eyes and along his cheekbones.

The tips of Jimin's eyelashes brushed the tips of Yoongi's thumbs. Their closeness was electric, sending shivers down Yoongi's spine. Those soft touches, more than any physical contact Jimin made, left Yoongi breathless.

He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching Jimin like this. If it happened, it would crush him, maybe even make him tear up or punch the walls. Jimin was too precious to him, and even though Yoongi sometimes feared he'd inadvertently hurt him, he couldn't stand the idea of anyone else having that power over him.

"Yeah... a bunch," Yoongi confessed, his voice trailing off.

"I wrote many lyrics for you. For you, for your sake, alluding to you, in your name.." he elaborated, his words dripping with emotion.

Jimin's eyes lit up, and Yoongi brushed his hair away from his forehead, resisting the urge to plant kisses all over him. He didn't want to taint Jimin with the taste of alcohol on his lips. Yet, his gaze lingered on Jimin's lips, as it always did. It was hard for him to tear his eyes away from them, even though he knew he should. How could he not look?

Taking a deep breath, Jimin met Yoongi's gaze, and Yoongi felt a pang of jealousy toward the air passing through Jimin's lips.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jimin's eyes wandered back to Yoongi's.

"It just wasn't the right time," Yoongi replied, his expression softening.

"Is it the right time now?" Jimin inquired, and Yoongi chuckled.

"Yeah, now's the time. It's time for my lyrics to merge with the melodies in my head," Yoongi declared.

Jimin's eyes widened, and he gripped Yoongi's arm. Yoongi pressed on.

"Now's the time to create my own music freely. My music that I love."

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, caught between fear and excitement, and stood frozen. Yoongi's gaze bore into him with such intensity that he wondered if anyone else could look at him so deeply and make him feel so accountable. Yet, all he knew was that Yoongi had been crafting song lyrics for him.

He'd always sensed there was more to Yoongi's love, and now hearing it in lyrics left him reeling. It was a special feeling, but being the subject of those lyrics left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He had no idea what kind of lyrics Yoongi had penned.

"You're trembling," Yoongi observed, enveloping Jimin in a warm embrace, holding him close to his chest.

"Did I impress you this much even before you heard the lyrics?" Yoongi planted a tender kiss behind Jimin's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Jimin couldn't find the words to respond, and Yoongi didn't push him.

"I rented a studio. I need to start preparing; I don't want to delay it any longer," Yoongi announced.

Jimin lifted his head from Yoongi's chest and met his gaze.

"Wasn't that the only thing you wanted to accomplish during your two years in Europe? To come back one day and create your own music?" he asked softly.

After several deep breaths, exchanged glances, and a lingering silence, Yoongi finally spoke up.

"This wasn't a decision I made just there; it's been on my mind since before I even started university. You know how much I love music, but..." Yoongi's voice trailed off.

Jimin flashed back to when Yoongi began college, back when Jimin was still in 11th grade. Yoongi had studied hard to pursue architecture, but Jimin remembered seeing glimpses of Yoongi's true passion. He'd catch Yoongi doodling or tinkering on his beloved brown piano, more enamored with music than with his studies.

"But... the quickest and most direct route to earning my father's pride was through architecture," Yoongi admitted.

Jimin's heart sank. He felt a pang of fear. Reflecting on his own life, he realized he'd done something similar. He'd put aside his own dreams to be with Yoongi, convincing himself that he wanted to pursue interior design.

"You gave up your passion for your father's sake?" Jimin asked, his eyes betraying his apprehension, though he knew it was all in the past now, and some things couldn't be undone.

"And didn't you do the same for me?" Yoongi met Jimin's gaze, implying that he already knew the answer. But it was his mother who brought him clarity.

"And didn't you postpone your dance, the very essence of who you are?"

The corners of Jimin's lips began to sag, but Yoongi swiftly took control of the situation.

"It's such a relief to see you dancing again," Yoongi whispered, gently stroking Jimin's arm.

Jimin's eyes didn't well up with tears, but they shimmered with emotion.

"We're still young, Jimin-ah. It's never too late for anything. Our love for each other won't hinder our passions. Whatever you choose to pursue in life, I'll always stand by your side, whether it's beside you, behind you, or anywhere else," Yoongi vowed.

Jimin nodded silently, accepting Yoongi's words. He didn't know how to respond, but Yoongi's words felt like a solemn promise, wrapping him in a blanket of security.

For the rest of the day, Yoongi hit the shower and then headed downstairs where Jimin was chilling, already with coffee on deck. Yoongi flopped down after ruffling his damp hair, feeling way more refreshed. He swore off getting wasted like that again, though whether he could stick to it was up for debate. But he made a mental note to talking with Namjoon again.

Yoongi spilled all his plans to Jimin, talking about the music network he'd been building for the past two years, his setup, and how he'd built up enough experience to tackle any obstacles in his way. Plus, Jimin found out Yoongi had sold a bunch of songs, which he didn't even know about. Jimin listened as Yoongi outlined all the groundwork he'd laid in those two years.

Yoongi wasn't bouncing off the walls with excitement like he was doing something totally new. At first, Jimin found it weird, but then he saw how cool, calm, and collected Yoongi was. He'd been planning this for two years and now he was finally putting it into action. There was no newbie excitement or clumsiness about him; he knew exactly what he was doing. And that made Jimin feel a bit left out. Not being there to see Yoongi's growth and transformation over those two years, from hype to pro, left Jimin feeling kinda sidelined.

He always saw those two years as wasted, and now he couldn't shake that feeling.

'"So you and this Alfonso dude have been navigating through all these stages together for two years?" Jimin inquired, his gaze fixated on the intricate patterns etched into the back of the chair Yoongi occupied.

Yoongi gave a nod and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, Alfonso's been a huge help. Without him, I'd probably be stumbling around clueless on some of the procedures. I had to skip a few steps to keep things moving forward, but I had to nail them perfectly. He really came through for me at that point," Yoongi explained.

Yoongi watched Jimin intently, waiting for his response, but Jimin's mind was already buzzing with a thousand questions.

"Oh God... I don't even know any of your songs. Did you sell the ones you said you wrote for me?" Jimin blurted out, feeling the weight of the question and unsure if he even had the right to ask.

Yoongi set his coffee down on an untouched magazine resting on the coffee table.

"Never," he stated firmly.

"I've never sold them, just kept them for myself," he added, leaning back and rubbing his forehead.

"The stuff I sell are the lyrics I scribbled when I was way younger, with a few tweaks here and there. You know, all that youthful, cursing the system-vibe," Yoongi explained, running his fingertips along the fabric of the chair he was perched on.

"They were lyrics and beats I could toss out there to make some cash and show off my skills," he continued, taking a deep breath.

Opening up about all the details was good for keeping things transparent in their relationship, but as Yoongi recounted what he had to hustle through over the past two years to reach certain milestones, his drive to succeed intensified. Another weight sat heavy on his shoulders.

"You could also think of it as a way to get on the radar of big names in the industry for the future," Yoongi added, his gaze unfocused as if he was reciting lines from a mental script projected onto Jimin's face.

"I won't take credit for what I sell, and nobody will ever know those lyrics are mine, but I'll make sure my name is stamped on every lyric I write about you," he declared.

Jimin's cheeks flushed, and he shifted in his seat.

"I'd love to hear the first song you wrote for me," he said eagerly.

Yoongi felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. It was like he was handing his heart to Jimin on a silver platter. If Jimin held onto it too tightly, it would suffocate him; if he stashed it away in a cold place, Yoongi would never warm up again. He felt incredibly exposed.

It wasn't the same as immortalizing his love for Jimin in lyrics; now, Jimin was the central figure, and Yoongi felt vulnerable knowing Jimin would hear every word. What kind of trap had he fallen into, being so head over heels in love and entrusting his heart to Jimin without hesitation...

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his promise.

"Yeah?"  he asked.

Jimin nodded eagerly, eager to hear.

Yoongi straightened his posture, his chest puffed out, and he rose to his feet, planting a tender kiss on the crown of Jimin's head.

"I promise you'll be the first to hear it, the moment the arrangements are done. Nobody else will listen, just you," he vowed.

Jimin took Yoongi's hand, their pinkies interlocking. God, he seemed so small.

"You promised," Jimin said, locking eyes with Yoongi.

Yoongi leaned in, pressing his lips to Jimin's.

"I promised, and I sealed it," he affirmed.

With a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind, Yoongi found himself unable to formulate any questions for Jimin. He hadn't even explained about dancing, a decision that had greatly impacted him. Yet, seeing how at ease Jimin was around him, he pushed aside his inquiries.

What Yoongi hadn't considered was just how intelligent and perceptive Jimin was. Of course, Jimin knew why Yoongi had been acting the way he had for the past two days and why he'd turned to alcohol to cope.

"I wanted to tell you first," Jimin finally broke the silence, and Yoongi furrowed his brow at the unexpected revelation. Jimin pressed on, explaining himself.

"I wanted to be the first to let you know that I've started dancing again at Hoseok Hyung's studio, but things didn't go as planned. It wasn't something I purposely kept from you," Jimin clarified.

He took a deep breath and settled onto the couch, propping his feet up. Running his fingers through his hair, a habit he indulged in when stressed, Jimin continued, his voice tinged with tension.

"We had some deep conversations with my family the night before, and I was in a bit of a mixed mood,"

At this, one of Yoongi's eyebrows shot up, silently urging Jimin to elaborate.

Catching Yoongi's gaze, Jimin puffed out his cheeks and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I spilled everything to my family, about dancing," Jimin revealed, his feet tapping anxiously.

"They weren't upset with me; in fact, they supported me, but..." Jimin's voice trailed off as he sat up abruptly, locking eyes with Yoongi with a pleading look.

"But... I've been torturing myself with the thought that I might have disappointed them. There's still this heaviness in my heart," Jimin admitted, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Yoongi glanced at his now-cold coffee on the table, downing the last drops just like Jimin had done before him, leaving the empty glass behind.

"If you didn't pursue your dreams and instead forced yourself to live a life you didn't want, that would be the real disappointment," Yoongi reassured him.

Tears welled up in Jimin's eyes at Yoongi's words, but Yoongi offered a gentle smile and pointed his index finger at Jimin's chest.

"Don't forget, there's a 'Nevermind' out there. You've got to chase your dreams," he reminded him.

°

The next day, Yoongi dropped Jimin off at Hoseok's studio before heading to the university clinic where Namjoon worked. Despite Namjoon blowing up Yoongi's phone, saying they couldn't meet and he had a mountain of paperwork to tackle along with patient appointments, Yoongi didn't give a damn. As he rode the elevator to the clinic, he felt no regret about his decision.

Namjoon was decked out in his white apron and nerdy glasses, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Every time his assistant popped in, they dumped another file on his desk, driving him up the wall. Plus, he had three patients with serious psychological issues scheduled, and he hadn't even had his damn coffee yet.

When there was a knock on his door, Namjoon grunted a response without looking up from his work.

He noticed the cardboard cup placed beside his files, and as the aroma of coffee wafted through the room, he finally put down his pen and glanced up. Taking a sip of his java, Yoongi settled into the comfy armchair across from Namjoon's polished walnut wood table, feeling more at ease than anywhere else.

Namjoon let out a loud sigh, removed his glasses, and plopped them on the table before leaning back in his chair, swinging his feet like a kid.

"Yoongi, I already told you I'm swamped today. Seriously, I don't have a spare second. I gotta wrap up these files by tonight, and I've got patients lined up," Namjoon reiterated, his tone exasperated.

Truth be told, Namjoon was a top-notch psychologist in his field, but when it came to his friends, or rather, the friends who felt more like family, all traces of professionalism flew out the window. He couldn't bring himself to see them as his patients, not in a million years.

Yoongi adjusted his seating, crossing his legs and smoothing out his black suede jacket. Every speck of dust seemed to gravitate towards him, making the air visible around him. He brushed off the particles that settled on his arm with a gentle flick, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Namjoon..." he began, his tone laced with curiosity as he leaned in, cocking his head to the side to meet Namjoon's pleading gaze.

"Why'd you even become a psychologist if you weren't gonna dish out therapy to your buddies?" he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

Namjoon closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. Yoongi's jest struck a chord, though he knew it was all in good fun.

"Oh, right, 'cause I'm just here to play therapist whenever Prince Min Yoongi demands it, huh?" Namjoon retorted sarcastically, his irritation evident as he absentmindedly adjusted the cactus pot on his desk, only to prick his hand on a thorn.

Yoongi snapped his fingers and pointed at Namjoon with a smirk.

"Damn straight. Ain't nobody thinkin' otherwise," he replied, his gaze lingering on Namjoon's bleeding finger. He couldn't help but wonder if there was ever a day when Namjoon wasn't a tad clumsy, but he had his doubts.

Grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on his desk, Namjoon wrapped it around his injured finger, shooting Yoongi a stern look.

"You got ten minutes," Namjoon declared, setting a stopwatch on his desk and hitting the start button.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, unable to hide his annoyance.

"You've already wasted ten seconds," Namjoon pointed out, his tone firm.

But when it came time to speak, Yoongi felt a wave of nerves wash over him, causing him to clear his throat and fidget with his jacket. He avoided making eye contact with Namjoon, opting instead to gaze out the window, though the view was nothing special.

"I- Something happened. I think," he finally managed to stutter out, his throat feeling tight with each word.

"What's going on?" Namjoon's tone softened, concern evident in his voice as he noticed Yoongi's growing anxiety.

Seeing Yoongi's distress, Namjoon straightened up, his own demeanor becoming more serious. It was clear that something was weighing heavily on Yoongi's mind, but he seemed unable to articulate it.

"Do you regularly take the medication I prescribed for you?" Namjoon asked, his gaze flicking to Yoongi's medication chart on his laptop.

In an effort to prevent any lingering trauma from his accident, Namjoon had continued the drug therapy they had agreed upon with their colleagues. Initially, it seemed that Yoongi was responding well to the treatment, but now Namjoon wasn't so sure.

Yoongi nodded hastily. "I haven't been blackout drunk in ages," he admitted, his gaze unfocused as it drifted over Namjoon's cluttered desk.

Namjoon's expression grew more concerned as Yoongi hesitated.

"Don't tell me you've been mixing your meds with alcohol," Namjoon's voice rose in alarm.

The truth was, Yoongi couldn't remember, but he faithfully took his medication every day. Namjoon had instructed him not to mix alcohol with his meds, which is why they adjusted the dosage to a single full powder in the evening instead of splitting it between morning and night. What worried Yoongi more was that he wasn't sure how

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