bound to the devil - bts ff

dumb drunk

: ̗̀➛two««
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SAEYI
I'm dead their chicken wings are the best and it was nice of them to give me a self-care package of scented candles and chocolates. I admit I'm not one to sit around sniffing lavender flavored smoke but I guess I could use one.

After stuffing myself with food and beer, I decided to clean up. Starting with myself then later in my kitchen. I'm not drunk but I sure am tipsy. Still not enough to make me fear dying by slipping on my bathroom floor and bleeding to death.

If only I didn't bring a bottle of soju with me in the bathtub, I would've still been sane. I am now sitting outside of my house fresh new clothes and wet hair, feeding the stray cat raw fish and my leftovers.

It doesn't help that I have a cherub sculpture on my porch. We are now talking about Lightning McQueen of Cars. In a slurred speech, I explain my answer, "A car in-insurance would be necessary by, for him rather than life insurance. He should, he will take the car insurance surely. Although, bad bitches choose both right?" I nudge the statue as it fell on its side. I giggle, standing up to go inside. The cold breeze starts to bite on my skin and I felt like sneezing.

Arriving at my bedroom, I trip, falling face flat on the floor. Apparently, both of my feet got tangled on a charger wire, specifically my laptop's. It was a cue for the screen to wake up and blast the same upbeat music that almost ripped my ears.

3. Sit in the circle and lick the blood off of the skin you pricked or if you're feeling brave and adventurous, lacerate.

Funny enough, I agreed to the text on the screen. "Yeah, a task. W-what were you about again?" I stammer, picking up my steps towards the desk and scrolling up. "Right, I'm alone." I frown dramatically, back hunched from the realization.

I ran back downstairs, crying like a baby with no tears. Am I the drama? 

I grab another can of beer but only soju bottles were left. It's not that I'm an alcoholic. Sometimes, alcohol is a great buddy when drinking responsibly. Sometimes I am responsible. Sometimes I get emotional and glug glug.

Two more soju on my left and the heart box from earlier on my right. I ran back up almost falling to my death on top of the stairs when I turned right too early and crashed on the handrail. Don't worry I said sorry and left a bar of chocolate for compensation on the step.

I sat on the floor and dropped what I held as soon as I'm in my bedroom. I crawl to lock the door and grabbed the lighter on the bedside table. After drinking half of the soju and blabbering about nonsense, I clear my carpet from the wires and debris. Hands and feet disconnected and sluggish. If you were to see me from afar, you'd assume I'm blindfolded.

I flip the switch off and stagger back inside the circle. "Why'd I have work this early in the morning." I groan, sitting down, almost falling down on the lit candles surrounding me. My mind was hazy. My body, exhausted. It was 2 am and my whole being is about to give up, head dropping slowly from the calming scent of the candles. I was halfway there; sitting in the circle of candles.

One of them is not lit.

"One of them is not lit?" I open my eyes wide just for them to drop halfway. "I'll light it up don't worry," I scurry to grab my lighter, blowing off three more candles in the process. After lighting them all up again. I sat there like an airhead, spacing out, almost asleep.

Prick your finger.

"What?" startled, I wake up once again just to hunch right back down. I searched for anything sharp but sober sane me do not keep dangerous things in the bedroom. "I don't have it." I frown, sitting back in the circle and spacing out once again.

I was asleep when I screamed, feeling a sharp pain in my hand. It woke me up, not entirely sober but somewhat conscious, "Why am I sitting here?" I shake my hand, looking around me. It was eerie and dark the small candles as the only light source. It was strange.

The hissing pain on my hand slowly went as I blow on it. Collecting my vision, I focus on the back of my hand where the pang of pain was. There I saw a long slice on my skin, bubbles of blood seeping out of the opening.

My face contorts at the sight. I lick and sip the blood off as it continues to bleed. It didn't taste right. Mixed with approximately 23 cans of beer and 3 bottles of soju, of course, it won't.

"This will scar," I mumble. I stand up and the candles went out collectively. Would've been strange but I was too worn out to notice. I jump on my bed, not bothering to open my night lights on. I fell asleep as soon as my body made contact with the bed. The only time insomnia doesn't hit is when I'm blacked out drunk.

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"DAHA OPEN THE, OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE."

I wake up at the loud muffled noise. My head didn't waste a second and started to throb painfully fast, faster than the knocks on my door.

I limp towards the door, reaching for the knob, eyes not even open. "What's the ruckus? What time is it even?" I ask the person who I assumed was Daha. "Why is it so bright," I mumble. I couldn't open my eyes and squinting didn't help, why'd my room become so bright.

"It's 6 pm, Saeyi. What's wrong with your room? Eugh what is that?" I confirmed it was Daha talking. I rub my eyes open and it's very dark. The moon doesn't even help light up the room, only the light from the open door did.

Daha turns the switch on for me to see the mess from last night which I knew I'll never remember. Not in this lifetime. Not when I'm alone to wind up my own memories.

"Did you actually- wait let me get you water first." Daha left hurriedly. I blinked a few times to see clearly what destructive behavior I have done this time while blacked out drunk. 

Tiny candles -which I assumed was the reason I needed to limp- were all over the place, specifically in a circle and one under my foot. Did I really do that stupid ritual? I felt that it was indeed that website I remember seeing before I blackout. The worse episode I had from drinking too much too fast was when I joined a street debate. How'd I known? It was featured live on streaming platforms. It took me a few months to restore my dignity and go back to social media.

"I can't remember anything else, this is a mess. Why do I feel so sick," I beeline my way to the bathroom, washing my face will help clear this icky feeling. Opening the faucet I hiss when water came in contact with my hand.

Scar. The back of my hand had a long slit starting from the base of my thumb to the nail of my pinky. "What is it this? What the fuck, did I try to unalive my shit yesterday the fuck." It really is long and burning and swelling. I stare at the flowing water and used my uninjured hand to wash my face.

"You're finally awake." I jumped back, startled, as I heard a voice behind me. A voice because there's no one there. I hit my head again as it starts to ache terribly. But panic has seeped through my veins, that was some deep-ass voice. "Mirror." It spoked again.

Terrified, I slowly turn to look at the mirror to see a tall man dressed in all black walking to stand beside my reflection. It gave me shivers and the space felt cold, ice cold. My knees buckled and I almost fell but I didn't.

"What's wrong?" 

les' note: hey~ I'm back with another emotion-driven write. I hope I could finish this within three months because its that or two years like my psychopath book lol anyways go on beloved tae is here