My All || Min Yoongi
Word Count: 2.2k
AN: So I tried to make this really angsty, but somehow the ending ended up being a ton of fluff, but I don’t think anybody’s really complaining.
You weren’t quite sure what it was. The feeling of being dragged under the depths of the waves, drowning under the words everyone else threw at you. No matter how many times you tried to burst through the surface to try and breathe, you were always dragged back under, being surrounded and trapped.
There was no way out at this point. No matter what you did you always found yourself back at this place. A never-ending cycle of depression that enveloped you with open arms. As if anxiety were a person who kept you trapped in their arms, suffocating you within their grasp and keeping you silent.
You didn’t know how or why it happened, you just knew that it did. There was no way to control it. There were some days where it wouldn’t hit at all and everything would seem okay. Then there would be days like this where you weren’t able to pull yourself out of bed because it felt like there was a weight on your chest, keeping you trapped there.
It didn’t help with all of the messages and comments you kept getting. People thought they had a say in who you were because of the fact that you were with someone like Min Yoongi. They thought that they got to make the decision about who you were. And if you didn’t follow all of their wants and wishes they had a right to lash out at you.
The first thing you would see when you checked your phone in the morning, wouldn’t be the messages from your boyfriend that you were so desperately waiting to see, but the messages the fans left you because they saw you eat more than you were supposed to, or they saw you hang out with a friend from school.
He was on tour at the moment, going to different countries and performing, and every morning he would send you good morning texts, no matter what time it was for him. All he cared about was making sure you remembered how much he loved you and how much he cared for you.
It was hard to remember when the only thing you could focus on was the comments from people who didn’t know you, who said that you should work out more, or that you shouldn’t be allowed to date Yoongi because you didn’t look anything like his ideal type. It got to you, even though you fought as hard as you could so that it wouldn’t.