Nights in the Studio - Taejoon

17

Taehyung's POV

I had a dream like I hadn't had in a long time, and it calmed my heart.

I was in a black room, sitting in front of a piano, and I played mumbling. Without making a mistake in any note, I pronounced with my whole body between small laughs singing...midnight cuddles. Not the song itself but that last piece.

'Our moon...'

It was that condition, unfolding sentence that ended up breaking the sky of my dream: suddenly it seemed easy to illuminate the whole room, discovering a lost certainty, and a familiar breeze.

It all seemed so real when my surroundings became a blue and eternal sea, and I was dressed in white with the sky in my eyes. Then a gigantic moon lightened the horizon with its bright and neat face, almost like a sign of a last battle in the middle of the ironic desert of my feelings, and I saw it full of joy, feeling at home as it dwindled on the waves... The music didn't stop as I got up feeling the soles colliding with my feet and the breeze hitting my face.

Then, those whispers.

'Everything will be fine, I'm here.'

'You are safe, sleep.'

'Don't worry, I will not leave you.'

'I Love you.'

I wake up with something holding my hand, it feels like a dream come true. My eyes clear to glimpse a black ceiling, I get used to the darkness and then the pain hits me like a bucket of cold water. I feel like I'm burning, everything burns deep, passing walls and finding myself hidden between the folds again and again.

I groan a little and try to sit up when I feel something soft between my legs. I sit up with barely tangible efforts and see them: separated by a pillow, with thick sheets covering my view. I look at the door and it has a lock, I look around and my brain goes from the wooden lamps, through the closet and the shelves of dolls and photographs of, my family?

"What the..." I whisper, and then a small snore makes me look at my hand still intertwined with another. I raise my vision for some legs, a torso and in the end, a face, His face.

He is sitting on the headboard with a sheet covering his shoulders. He looks like he's made of rags and has bags under his eyes, everything is weak except his grip on my hand. 

Suddenly I don't feel the urge to ask the million questions in my mind, about what happened, about how I got here, about who healed me, about why I give a shit that I slept here, and why Namjoon saw me naked and bruised.

The only thing that matters to me now is staying here, for as long as it is. I forget everything else and as I can I approach him slowly, with my free hand I run his face at a safe distance so as not to wake him up. I breathe slower on purpose so as not to disturb his sleep and just focus on looking at him.

I remember the whispers and identify them with his voice. Was he the one who took care of me? I feel important and stupid. Without realizing it, the light begins to peek through the spaces between the gray curtains and I look at it, begging it not to come out yet. I have remorse for my actions and although I don't deserve it, I just want to stay in these good moments, being important to someone who is by my side, someone who cares about me, someone who at least says they love me...for once.

I remain admiring it, as I like to do it so much. I see our hands together and his horrible posture, did he sleep like this all night to take care of me? I feel like I'm going to cry, and I know I am when I feel a tear in my left cheeck, I close my eyes. Nothing hurts anymore, and that surprises me, because nothing hurts just because I'm with him.