a jar of hearts (Taegyu)

9: calm before a storm

     Beomgyu didn’t think things could get any worse.

     Then again, he also thought he’d eventually be okay with time.

     It was safe to say he went into his days only hoping they would gladden. He coveted for a second to breathe through his race, yet there were no stopping points in his path. Every day he woke up heavier than the day before with little to no motivational urge to push him.

     It was less than a week ago when he thoroughly endorsed his jeopardy. Roughly six days ago when he wasted hours on his bathroom floor as he laboured to quell his own mind. His tears obscured his vision and his conscious, burdening everything as a whole. That was when he acknowledged and accepted his position.

     He barely registered his surroundings at that time. It wasn’t until the skin around his knuckles stung harshly did he notice the faint crimson droplets slapping the floor. He’d cut his hand open on something in his fit of anger and he barely discerned it because he was too buried under the weight of his thoughts.

     Beomgyu examined his unsteady hand, wincing as he stretched his fingers. The gash traced from the knuckle of his index finger down to the middle of his wrist. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but it hurt. It hit him all at once instead of developing steadily.

     Just like everything else.

     He didn’t give it much mind. His head throbbed more than the slash on his hand. Ironically, it didn’t even reach his hearts. Even unintentionally, nothing would defeat them. He needed to understand that.

     The night didn’t get any lighter after that. With an aching body, he crudely cleaned out the small wound and wrapped it in a bandage. He couldn’t do any better with the way his hands trembled, barely grasping his belongings.

     He considered calling someone, even shooting Soobin a quick message asking if he was free at the moment. He was the first person on his contact list and in a moment of desperation, he sent it despite knowing their raggedy position.

     The message was left on read.

     It was useless trying.

     Beomgyu didn’t try anymore after that. He didn’t try to do anything. He let his mind wander, giving up with trying to silence the deafening roar of thoughts. He left his things scattered on the floor, fluids drying and staining the tiles. There wasn’t any point, was there? He was just tired.

     With that, he simply went to bed, leaving everything for another day.

     How many days did he have left before he would eventually break?

              

     Beomgyu deemed he was at the bottom of the mountain after tripping from the top and tumbling down, colliding with various objects on the way down. He wholeheartedly thought he was at rock bottom and things couldn’t get worse, but he only kept falling.

     He was bombarded by schoolwork, his midterms nearing right around the corner. It wouldn’t have been such a hassle if he wasn’t so dispirited and unmotivated almost every passing day.

     Even with the heavy feeling, he would’ve been able to get through it, except he had nothing to push him. He would look to his friends, but they were busy with their own things and he wasn’t in such a good position with them.

     To add to that, he would look to Taehyun, but the boy had ostensibly vanished.

     It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Over the course of the last month, he had a habit of burrowing himself from everything. He’d be back after a day or two, only this time it’d been more than a week. Taehyun didn’t text him. Beomgyu’s messages weren’t even delivered to his phone which only set off more alarms. Not only was he worried, but he could also barely keep up with himself without his safe place.