too scared to be afraid

chapter sixteen: namjoon

"Please don't be sad, my love. I can't bear seeing you like this. I know there's no way to rewrite the past but we've gotten rid of them, so please, try to forget? For us?"

016: namjoon

xxxx

Hoseok hated to admit it, but he's really scared of everything.

Some things were scarier than others but while he tried, he couldn't get rid of all of his fears. Unlike his fear of both the dark and the light, he couldn't shake this fear off.

Loud noises were truly a pain.

Namjoon was quiet while they worked to write down ideas. They had agreed to share the ideas once they had enough down but Namjoon seemed to be taking his time on purpose.

"I--I've got enough ideas," Hoseok murmured to Namjoon, right hand fidgeting with his wooden pencil. He had stopped using mechanical ones since they were a bit inconvenient. The wooden pencils came in packs of 20 or more so that way, he'd have more to lend to people if they asked him for a pencil which was an often occurrence.

"Hm," Namjoon hummed, ignoring the boy.

Hoseok had no idea who Namjoon was talking about. Who he had apparently tricked. He didn't even know what he had done. Hoseok didn't get close with classmates or other students. He only grew close to a select few friends.

And those few friends were on the small list of people he could potentially trust. He was trying to rid of his fear of being exposed by considering telling his close friends about his past but he was still unsure. That was unrelated though.

"Hey-"

As soon as he was about to speak, loud blaring rang from the ceiling. It was a fire alarm.

Hoseok couldn't process that though.

He fell out of his seat and his hands flew up to cover his ears. He was sitting under the table, shaking, and barely a second away from having a full blown panic attack.

Now, Namjoon knew "his true nature" but he wasn't heartless. As much as he liked to act like he didn't care about anything at all, he instantly changed his attitude to offer the support Hoseok needed.

He had been studying to become either a literature professor or a psychologist, and panic attacks were something he, himself was accustomed to. The need to help this boy kicked in and took control of his body.

"Hoseok, can you hear me? I'm right here. Do you know who I am?"

"Na--Namjoon-ssi?" Hoseok shakily whispered. He was having trouble breathing, hand reaching to scratch at the cuts on his arms under his sleeve. He ripped the scab off of one and continued to scratch as his arm. It was really a shame, his cuts were just beginning to heal too..

"Yeah, it's Namjoon. Now's not the time for honorifics, you can drop them. Hey, can you breathe with me, Hoseok? Breathe in...hey what are-?" Namjoon's eyes widened at the blood that ran down Hoseok's fingers, dripping to the carpeted floor. Hoseok was wearing sleeves but he could see that his hands had slipped under them to hurt himself. That wasn't good.