Dance to This [kth]

t h i r t y

ミ★
thirty
❝the final thoughts❞
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A wintery ray of sunlight peeks in from the window; it drifts back and forth with the whispering blinds, roaming each crevice of my face as gusts of cold wind hit against the skyline. The sunlight eventually settles on my eyes, and I close them tightly, scrunching my nose before rolling over in bed. My arm falls into empty pillows and sheets. Taehyung is not in his usual position: one leg intertwined with mine, and a hand on my chest to stop me from thrashing in my sleep. I frown as my fingertips fall against the sheets, feeling of distant warmth from his body. He must've just gotten up not too long ago.

The December air feels different today. This Saturday morning, regardless of the comforting winter lights illuminating the city streets, the silent blanket of snow wrapping buildings like presents, and the faint smell of evergreen wherever you walk, there is an inescapable looming darkness dragging each one of my senses into a bottomless vat. It settles into me as I look at the luxurious red dress hanging up across from the bed.

The beautiful gown cascades down to the floor, cloth seamlessly falling into waves of fabric like a calm ocean. It is so beautiful it hurts to think about where it has come from. I feel sick.

I spring up from the bed and rush into the bathroom. I push the door firmly with my palms, so quickly, that it flings into the wall behind it. I drop to my knees and within seconds I am expelling myself into the toilet. I can feel Namjoon's hands as they reach into me and take everything out of my insides. His greedy hands steal my sane thoughts and my fragile emotions. I can see them as I flush them away, shielding my view as to not upset myself any more.

Today is the real nightmare. My body is shaking with uncomfortable shivers as I attempt to get up from the floor. Each muscle is sore, and I can see them contracting to stop the shivering in my glossy reflection in the mirror. I look so tired. I am so tired. Blissful love and romance don't exist in nightmares. Taehyung is restricted from following me to places like this.

My Christmas; my star; my lustrous plight. As I wash away my sins with fresh spearmint toothpaste and water, I am thinking of my boyfriend. I can't let anything happen to him. There is an uncontrollable urge to protect him from being exposed again. . . rehashing his mistakes. Joon will take advantage of him the moment he has the chance.

White foam builds up against my gums as I brush vigorously. My eyes follow my reflection slowly, and then all at once. I look different. Training for L'ange de Noël has proven to have significantly altered my body composition. Muscles that had been dormant during my off-time have now joined me again. Even my jawline is not the same. I look. . . like Celeste.