#‘i’m so exhausted i haven’t slept i haven’t eaten all i���ve been doing is caring for poor nani’

[rightsockjin]

Almost is Never Enough

Description: Yoongi was a very busy man so busy that he never made time for you. It had never bothered you but today was the last straw.

Warnings:

Angst

there is a continuity error, the first one to find it gets a personal story 

               It had been a few weeks since I had gotten to spend time with Yoongi, due to his never-ending workload free time was sparse. I remembered what our relationship started as, there was never a dull moment, even in times of silence there was comfort and security that enveloped our relationship, and the few times we did have time together were filled with acts of adoration and passion.

I would visit him in his lab and watch him work and busy myself with crochet. We would go on date and they would feel like the first, he would flirt with me, and ask me questions I had never even thought of. He would remember my orders at different restaurants, he knew my preferences.

He would hold me like I was the most precious thing in the world like I mattered to him. He would whisper to me sweet nothings, and he’d cater to my every need, loving looks and gentle cresses would turn into bedroom eyes and wanton touches that left us tired and sticky.

But now? Now I couldn’t even get a second glance or even a goodnight text. He made no time for me, he didn’t ask about my day, he didn’t want to go out to eat, he only ever let out his frustrations on me. He wouldn’t mistreat me or hurt me or insult me but he used me to relieve his stress and worry. Everything was quick and rushed, no time for loving looks, just lustful actions and his release of frustrations. I couldn’t go on like this, I wasn’t a plaything, had emotions, I had needs, but...

I loved him.

I. Love. Him.

If he didn’t appreciate that then that was his loss. I gave him one more try today could be our last day.

The front door of our shared apartment opens, it was already one in the morning and by the look on his face, I could tell that his day was difficult. The bags under his eyes were dark, and his skin was pale and dry, he didn’t seem to be drinking enough water or getting enough to eat. My heart ached for him the love of my life was deteriorating before my eyes. If he couldn’t take care of himself then how could I expect him to take care of me. Was I crazy to think that he would keep me as a priority? No, I don’t think I was.

“Hey,” I say taking a sip of the glass of rosé I was nursing while I waited for him in our living room. I looked at the ground afraid to get rejected by him once more. He grunted out a small hi and walked past me into our shared room, I followed after him looking down at my feet.

“I left your dinner in the oven…I made galbi” I looked at him as he picks out some pajamas out of our dresser. He mumbled a quick thanks and went into the bathroom and proceeded to take a shower.

Was I not worthy of a hi, was that too much to ask of him, I was still his girlfriend, was I not? I don’t care that he’s tired, I’ve come home from work exhausted and I at least treated him like a person.

I push open the door in the restroom and stomp over to the shower and yank open the glass door.

“Oh, my, God what’s your problem!? You scared the crap out of me what do you want? If you want sex wait until I’m done showering, I need my damn personal time.” He raised his voice, not enough to yell but enough for his words to cut through the patter of the drops of water coming from the showerhead.    

Finally, I broke.

“Listen to me and listen well because I will not repeat myself,” I said surprised by the calmness of my voice.

“I am not a toy, I am not something you can use to dump your frustrations on, I am your girlfriend, and I think I deserve more than what you're giving me. I feel like I don’t even get to see you. All you ever do is come home, screw me, shower and go to sleep. You don’t even talk to me if it wasn’t for your friends I wouldn’t even know what was going on in your life Yoongi. Every day… it breaks my heart to see the state you come home in. Are you even eating or drinking water? I’m worried about you but I can’t even talk to you because you don’t let me talk to you. I don’t know who you are anymore. Do I still matter to you yoongi? Do… do you still lo…ve me?” tears ran freely down my face.

I looked up at him, afraid of his reaction to my sudden outburst. His mouth was open as if he wanted to say something, I looked at his eyes and I noticed pain behind his stare. I felt pity as one of his hands clutched his chest. I walk out of the restroom before he had the opportunity to answer. I didn’t want to hear his excuses I was over that.

I walked briskly to our shared bed and lied down on my side, I cocooned myself in all the available blankets and sobbed into my pillow. My torn heartbeat harshly against my chest making it impossible to breathe. I felt the bed dip next to me I paid no mind to it letting myself wallow in all the negative emotions floating around in my head. I hear a mumbled version of my name come from outside my blanket fortress. My breathing tempers and I peak my eyes out through a small opening I found. My tears make it hard for me to see him, I can’t tell if he is also crying or if the water in his hair is dripping down his face. Pain still present behind his eyes, what I said must have really gotten to him.

I waited patiently for him to speak because Lord knows that I had already given my part. I had given as much of myself as I had left, and it looked like it wasn’t enough. Maybe he was just now realizing that as well. I braced myself for the speech, that dreaded speech that we all hate. Would he tell me that it wasn’t my fault? Would he kick me out? Would I have to move in with my sister? I couldn’t even think straight as his mouth opened and closed. He clutched his throat as if he was choking on unspoken words. My tears had dried and I could clearly see his own flowing down his face. It was very unlike us. Neither of us liked to show much emotion, but with each other, it was a different story.

It was a couple more minutes before he cleared his airway and forced words from his lips. His English accent but it sent butterflies through my whole body. Damned butterflies. They seemed to follow wherever he went and, in this instance,, it wasn’t helping.

“I’m so sorry. I did not mean to make you feel so alone,” he said slowly taking deep breaths every couple of words. His hand was shaking, and I could tell that he was desperate to speak his mind. It must have been so frustrating to have to speak in a foreign language in which you couldn’t express yourself well.

“It’s done,” I said stubbornly, knowing that he was only trying to make up for what he had done or rather what he hadn’t, but I couldn’t help but let my anger take hold for a second. That is until I saw his eyes close shut tightly and his head falls forward. He let a strangled noise of sorrow fall from his lips and I felt my resolve melting.

I sat up and put a hand on his shaking hand. He glanced at me through his wet hair, a spark of hope shining in his eyes. My heart ached for this man. He was always so busy. His schedule was jam-packed and when I had agreed to date him, I thought I could handle being on the back burner. It turns out that I was selfish, and I wanted to have him with me more often. I took a long shaky breath and forced myself to meet his eyes.

“Look Yoongi,” I said again taking on the calm tone that I had equipped earlier, “I love you- “

“I love you too,” he interrupted, and I shook my head as a fresh wave of tears ran down my face.

“Listen to me please,” I said holding back the ball of emotion in my throat. He nodded at me, sitting closer to me as I tried not to sob.

“It kills me to see you so tired. It kills me when you walk through the door and you look like you haven’t truly slept in weeks and you haven’t eaten a proper meal in forever. It kills me to see the bags under your eyes and to watch you take Advil every six minutes. It kills me that even though I hate how overworked you are and I know how exhausted you must be, I still sit there and selfishly think of how I wish you would spend time with me,” I said slowly, thinking of every word I spoke, “I hate watching you slave away and still feeling like I’m entitled to your attention. You work so hard…And here I am, ungrateful for the little I get do see you. I know that I add more stress to your life,” I stopped, taking a shacking breath as he reached for my hand and I pulled it away.

“And I don’t want to be that for you,” I choked wiping at my face angrily, “Maybe its best if we take a break…”

The silence that followed my statement could have fooled me into thinking I was deaf. He didn’t seem to be breathing. It was like time stood still and his perfect lips parted ever so slightly in shock as a tear trailed down his cheek.

“Maybe this isn’t the right time for us,” I continued when he said nothing, “Maybe when you’re less tired and less busy…we can try this again but right now,” I paused trying to remain strong, “I don’t think that either of us can give each other what we need. You deserve to rest…and I deserve to feel a little more important.”

Yoongi had stopped functioning. I could tell because I could see every single emotion running through his features. Anger, hurt, fear, betrayal, all of it. I could make out each individual feeling and I could see the struggle that was happening behind his eyes.

Honestly, I understood if he hated me. I understood why we were in the place we were. I understood that he had a devoted fan base that needed to be fed like a fire every day. I understood that he had a demanding life and that his manager and company wouldn’t let him out of work because his clingy girlfriend needed him. I got that. I understood that, and at the time of my agreeing to date him, I thought I could handle that, but I was wrong. Yoongi was a wonderful man, who deserved to be loved and who deserved to be treated like the king he was, and I did everything I could to make that happen, but all my efforts seemed to go unnoticed and that was okay. It was okay because he had something more important on his plate. His career and I could never fault him for that. His determination was one of the many reasons that I fell in love with him and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I think I’m going to go stay with my sister,” I said, starting to untangle myself from the blankets that I had protectively wrapped around myself but before I got too far, I felt him tug at my wrist and I turned to face him. His eyes were equivalent to that of a dying man who was begging for salvation, the problem was that I too was dying, and neither of us could save each other.

“Please don’t leave me,” he begged.

“I won’t leave you, “I said quickly, raising his hand to my lips as a tear escaped my lashes, “This isn’t goodbye Yoongi,” I said forcing myself to smile, “this is just as a pause.”

He looked perplexed for a second before asking, “What does that mean?”

I sat awkwardly, letting his hand hold mine, “It means, that for right now, we can be friends, and I will be here for you wherever you need me… I just won’t be your girlfriend until…” I paused as a sob threatened to spill from my lips, “until we feel the time is right for us to give it another chance.”

“How will we know when that is,” he asked as he watched the tears pouring down my face.

“I don’t know,” I answered with a shrug and a shaky laugh.

There was a pause in which I had to use all of my remaining strength to pull my hand from his and grab an overnight bag and my phone. Yoongi watched me pack some clothes and send a message without much of a fight. It should have hurt me, that he gave in so quickly, but I didn’t let it. He had so much on his mind that this break would be the least of his worried when it was all said and done.

Within minutes, I got a message from my sister. She was outside. I grabbed the bag and pulled it over my shoulder. I gave Yoongi one last, longing look before I walked out of the apartment. I closed the door behind me and placed a warm hand on the cool metal.

“I love you,” I whispered, holding my breath then as I began to walk away, I could have sworn I heard a hushed, “I love you too,” whispered back.