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I avoided looking near the tub as I turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom. It was spotlessly clean but I didn't want the memories to come back.

Walking over to my bed, I sat down on the edge.

The sun was setting and it cast a light orange glow into the room, filling it with serenity.

Even though I had spent most of the day sleeping, I still felt tired. After Jimin had brought me breakfast, Hae-sook had come up. The look on her face broke my heart, she scolded me and cried.

We cried together.

And afterwards, she pulled me down on the bed and her sweet singing voice had lulled me to sleep.

Her hands were patting my hair comfortingly and as I fell asleep, a small smile had stretched across my lips.

Maybe Taehyung was right.

Maybe I was loved - I desperately wanted to believe it.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Yes?" I called out, glancing toward it.

The door slowly opened and I gaped when I saw Yoongi walking in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone impassive as always.

"Okay…"

What was he doing here?

"Are you?"

He cocked his head to the side in question as he stared at me expectantly. I placed my hands on the bed and absently traced patterns on it. His presence made the room look smaller and his dark intense stare caused a shiver to run down my spine.

"I'm… feeling better," I corrected myself.

He nodded and kept his eyes on me.

Yoongi looked thoughtful for a second before he walked forward and came to a stop in front of me.

Droplets of sweat trickled down my back as my nervousness grew.

Why was he here? Did he come to taunt me?

The thought made me cringe.

We stared at each other in silence and then he moved. Keeping his eyes on me, he took off his suit jacket and laid it on the chair beside him. My eyes widened when I saw him starting to unbutton his white dress shirt.

"What… are… "

"Do you know how I got this scar?" he asked, bringing a hand up to point at his chest.

I tore my eyes away from his chest and looked up. His eyes were blank and his lips had thinned into a hard line.

He pointed at his scar, I stared at it. The scar ran from his right collarbone and across, just shyly hitting his left shoulder. It was deep and looked like a puckered slash. It must have hurt a lot.

I winced at the thought, I wondered how he got it.

When I finally shook my head at his question, he nodded and continued to unbutton his shirt.

Yoongi turned away from me, giving me his back as he faced the opposite wall. In a flash, he had his shirt removed.

Bringing my hand up, I covered my mouth as I gasped at the sight.

"No.," I breathed.

His back was covered with scars.

They looked old, but none of them had faded away, some were long and deep, the agony he must have gone through.

I saw his back muscles bunch as his body tensed at my gasp. Yoongi turned back toward me and I let out a whimper, this time tears blinding my vision. His chest and stomach were covered in scars too.

"How?" I croaked.

"Six years ago, I was taken by the Ganpeh. They held me captive for almost four weeks, torturing me day and night. They wanted information."

My heart stumbled at his words and I tried to calm my breathing. The Jeons? No. Not another one.

How many people did my family destroy?

"Did you? I mean, did you say anything?" I whispered, keeping my gaze on his scarred chest.

When I heard him scoff, my eyes snapped up.

He looked at me like I had lost my mind.

Shaking his head, he sighed, "No, Jungkook. I didn't spill anything. I would take a bullet for Taehyung. Do you think I would betray him?"

No, I didn't think he would betray him. Yoongi was cold and hard. He appeared unfeeling, but from what I had seen during my short time here, he was loyal. And protective of Taehyung.

When he said he would take a bullet for Taehyung, I believed him. He looked proud when he uttered the words.

"I was barely alive when Taehyung and the others found me. Because of severe blood loss, nerve damage, and brain swelling, I was in a coma for three weeks."

Yoongi paused and took a deep breath, "When I woke up, I had to learn how to walk again. And two days after, I was diagnosed with PTSD."

My heart broke at his confession. I never expected this. Even though his expression had hardened, I saw a flash of pain in his eyes. And the tears that had built up in mine fell freely down my cheeks.

Yoongi's eyes widened at the sight of my tears and I saw his throat move almost painfully when he swallowed hard.

"Nightmares, hallucinations, deep anger, depression, and self-loathing. They became a constant in my life," he continued, his eyes shifting away from mine.

His pain spoke to me. Because I knew what it felt like.

"I remember pointing a gun at my temple, wanting to end it all," he said.

No.

"But Taehyung talked me out of it. Seokjin. Hobi. Namjoon. Hae-sook. They were all there. They cared. I'm alive today because of them," he said.

When his expression softened, the cold look disappearing from his face, I sucked in a deep breath.

"You must be wondering why I'm telling you this?" He let out a harsh laugh before shaking his head, "I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I understand. Whatever you are going through, I understand. We understand. Nobody is perfect in this mansion. Some of us have painful

pasts while others have less painful ones, but we know. We understand. And we want to help."

Yoongi was a man of few words and for him to say this to me, it took my breath away.

Maybe they would understand, but I was still the enemy's son.

Maybe if I was someone else, maybe if I wasn't a Jeon, it wouldn't have mattered. But would they still feel the same way if they knew that I was Jung-ho's son? A Ganpeh?

The same family that they hated so much.

"I don't know what you have been through. But if you've come this far, then you are a fighter. You are not weak," he continued in a surprisingly soft voice.

Yoongi slowly moved toward me and stopped only inches away. He was so close that his legs were almost touching mine.

I swallowed nervously, and from my sitting position, I had to bend my head backwards to look up at him. Yoongi towered over me as I blinked up at him with tearful eyes.

His pitch-black eyes were intense and piercing, impossible to read, and they gleamed in the glow of the sunset.

My eyes widened when I felt something warm on my arm. I looked down quickly to his hand placed gently over my bandages. He rubbed his thumb back and forth, causing my stomach to flip.

"You are worth more than this," he whispered.

At his words, I remembered what Taehyung said this morning, his voice rang through my mind.

"You are worth more than you think." I brought a hand up and covered my mouth as a sob broke through.

"You are a fighter, Jungkook. So keep fighting. Don't give up now."

He gently caressed my arm one last time before pulling his hand away and stepping back.

He walked away silently, I continued to cry, my eyes still fixated on my bandaged arm.

I never thought of myself as a fighter - I was weak.

Broken.

But he had called me a fighter. He was right, I had come this far. I endured years of torture.

Why was I giving up now?

I laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling as the tears continued to run down my cheeks.

"You are worth more than you think."

Taehyung's voice kept repeating over and over again in my head. I had Jimin, Hae-sook,

Taehyung… and Yoongi.

They understood me.

They didn't question.

They just accepted.

Maybe I do matter, I thought.

I didn't know how much time had passed, I was still lost in my thoughts when I heard another knock on the door. Sitting up on the bed, I called out, "Come in."

The door opened and Jimin walked in with a big smile on his face. And in his hands was a large bouquet of pink flowers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked cheerfully.

"Good," I responded, my eyes on the flowers.

They were so beautiful.

Pointing at them, I look up at Jimin curiously, "What are you doing with these?"

His hazel eyes twinkled and he gave me another smile. "They are for you, silly."

"For me?" I asked, astonished.

"Uh-huh. They are tiger flowers," he replied, walking over to my nightstand. Jimin took out the other flowers there to put these.

"They are so beautiful."

I couldn't take my eyes off them.

Jimin paused in what she was doing and turned toward me, "Taehyung got them for you," he said slowly, "He said to get well soon."

My back straightened at his words, I looked up at him in shock, my eyes filled with questions.

He smiled and nodded.

Placing my hands out, I whispered, "Can I hold them?"

He gave me the flowers. As soon as my fingers wrapped around the stems, I brought them closer to me and inhaled the sweet scent.

It smelled refreshing.

Sweet.

But that was not what made my heart race.

Nobody had ever given me flowers before.

No one.

Taehyung bought me flowers - He was the first person to give me flowers.

The most beautiful flowers ever.

My heart did a flip and I couldn't help the tiny smile that stretched across my lips.

It was small and faint, but a smile nonetheless.

"They're beautiful," I whispered again, holding the bouquet close to my chest.

"I know," Jimin whispered back.

I looked up at him and he smiled, staring right into my eyes, "For once, I agree with his choice."

Jimin mumbled something under his breath that I didn't comprehend.

All I cared about was the bouquet I was holding in my hand, bringing them close to my face again, I inhaled its sweet scent.

'You are loved. You matter.'

Taehyung's voice rang through my head as I closed my eyes.

When he first said those words to me, I hated them.

They had cut deep into my heart, hurting me.

Yet at this very moment, those same words brought me peace.