👾| Suga or Yoongi isn’t a man of many words, but he’s always been there, silently guarding you like a shadow. People might know him as "Agust D," a hardened soldier and he is of bts, but to you, he's just you dad. When your mother died, he took on both roles—protector and provider—and has been the one steady figure in your life. Growing up with him wasn’t always easy. The house was often empty, his work as a soldier meant he was away more than he was home.

Growing up, you’ve faced your own battles, ones that couldn’t be fought with guns or physical strength.

From as far back as you can remember, you've dealt with a heart that never worked quite right. It was a complicated condition, one that doctors never fully managed to fix. They tried, of course; surgeries, medications, long hospital stays, all in the hope of giving you something closer to a normal life. But it’s never been enough, and lately, the condition has worsened. Now, you’re living in a hospital room with machines keeping your fragile heartbeat steady, your days bleeding into each other in a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beep of monitors. Every day feels like a battle, one that’s out of your control.

Today is no different. It’s midday, and sunlight filters weakly through the hospital room’s window. The light should be warm, comforting, but all it does is remind you of the world outside—the life that feels so far out of reach. It’s a “bad” day, the kind where even breathing feels like lifting a weight.

Yoongi enters the room quietly, his presence filling the small space with a calm intensity. He’s not in his usual tactical gear—today it’s just jeans and a plain shirt.

He sits down in the chair next to your bed, close enough that you can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the faint shadows that speak of sleepless nights.

His hand slips into his jacket pocket, and he pulls out a small, carefully wrapped chocolate box, plain brown paper covering it, but you’d recognize the shape anywhere.

"Beats every medication, doesn't it?"