Burning || Han Jisung Centric

chapter 10.

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I've been on it in a hurry, but it's
not long before I get back on it.
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I feel numb and broken at the same time.

Hyung, is it even possible?

everything I do feels like failure, no matter how hard I try my brain doesn't stop tormenting me; I aim for good results, for the best, but still even when I achieve my goals, everything appears like failure in my eyes.

if someone excels at something, then I have to excel as well. but its always them doing better than me.

it all changed when I became more and more competitive back then; everything went for the worst and I started scolding myself every time people around me looked better than me in my eyes;

if someone was skinny, then I had to be skinnier than them, if someone had good dancing skills, then I had to improve my own skills and be better than them.

I'm sick of this part of me, this part that is so competitive; it's frustrating not recognising my success; it is destroying me from the inside. I am destroying myself from the inside. and why can't I do anything about it? I don't get it. or maybe I do.

I expect a lot from myself, and when I don't come across my expectations, I keep pushing myself to my limits. I want a break from this, my head hurts so bad like it is going to explode and my body cannot-

when Jisung opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow he brought a hand on his own face and started muttering nonexistent words. when, as scratching his head, he lazily turned his gaze on the left side of the bed, he noticed Minho wasn't there anymore. where was him? why didn't he wake him up?

was he making breakfast? they didn't have practice nor anything that day so where could he be?

no matter how distracted from the plenty questions he was asking himself; through the half-opened door, he heard giggling and his Hyung's name being called by a strong australian accent. he hurriedly jumped off the bed -almost falling on his face- and walked towards the kitchen only to see his favourite Hyung having a flour battle with the freckled australian member. Jisung stayed still at the door entrance only to avoid to get dirty by the two members. he's having fun with him.

nonetheless, when Felix -trying to escape from Minho- fell on his butt near the door, the packet of flour slipped from his grasp and hit Jisung in the stomach. he felt no pain actually he almost perceived nothing. still, he put a hand on the hit part of his body, and let his gaze run across the room.

«Sung-ah» Minho called him as he was trying to approach him; however, Jisung didn't let him.
irritated, he held his hands in front of the other man, keeping distance between their bodies, and shook his head. «I'll go to take a shower, just-» he then looked at the messy kitchen and pointed his look into Felix's eyes. «clean this mess» don't be rude, don't be rude «and then yourselves; it is disgusting.» good job.

now, not only he had to wake up alone, when he had gone to sleep next to his best friend, obviously the day had to get worse and reserved him a surprise. he slammed the bathroom door and grabbed the edge of the sink tightly in his hands staring at himself in the mirror.

the night with someone by his side had passed so quickly, now he was back to be alone. the atmosphere was getting stranger since the moment he woke up. It was like he couldn't feel his five senses at their finest. everything was so... numb, again. why did he keep falling for this? was it stronger than him? was it something he couldn't control at all?

whilst he was looking at himself in the mirror, and his eyes were wandering on his body, someone banged on the bathroom door. he didn't respond, but decided to open without first checking who was furiously knocking. when he opened the wooden door he was immediately pushed into the bathroom against one of its wall by Minho.

«Minho, what are you doing?»

what was happening? what was Minho doing banging on the bathroom after he explicitly said that he wanted to stay alone.  was he stupid or deaf? didn't he know what STAYING ALONE mean-

the purple haired boy then pressed his hands on the boy's chubby cheeks stopping his eyes from wandering around the room «tell me Jisung...»

he dangerously brought his face closer to the other's, «what's the thing you fear the most?»

...

...

eh?

«are you okay? what are you at talking about?» Jisung asked with a frown to which Minho grinned and responded. «don't you ever ask yourself what's the thing you fear the most?»

why would he? who would ever casually think about the thing they're the most scared of? where did he want to go with that conversation? what did he even mean with that question?

«Hyung this doesn't make any sens-»

Minho put a hand on his parted lips and tightened the grasp on the younger's face making him whine. «look at yourself Jisung.» he abruptly turned the the blonde's face to the mirror «open your eyes, and look what you fear the most.»

Jisung did as he was commanded as he slowly opened his squinted eyes. there was nothing in the mirror, nothing but his own reflection. «I don't understand?»

«Hyung could you stop please, have I done something wrong? I'm s-».

«it's yourself what you fear the most.»

Jisung raised his eyebrows and looked at Minho through the mirror. «don't you remember what you told me last night? you opened yourself up to me, you revealed every little emotion of yours to me yesterday and how this competitive part of yourself is destroying you; how you're feeling sick and powerless, but you didn't understand that it is your fault only.» he squinted his eyes closed again while the other was talking.

«you're the architect of your own pain; learn how to deal with it.»

Jisung suddenly opened his eyes panting and sweating, his heart was beating so fast, his vision was blurry, his hands were shaking, his throat felt dry a big pain in his chest was torturing him, the room was spinning, the grim, grumpy weather that was causing the window doors to slam made him feel even more nervous than he already was.

«Ji, look at me.» a hand tried to caress the back of his head in order to try to calm him from what seemed to be a panic attack. he jumped away and squinted his eyes.

«Ji... you had a bad dream, didn't you?» the older's honey voice kept reassuring the younger trying in the slowest way possible to guide him closer to his chest. «Minho-» his eyes shone painful tears, gazing at the black-haired's lap.

he kept his head low.

«I- I need help.»

A/N
honestly two nights ago I really had that dream, I was alone in the dream though. I don't really remember every detail of that dream, the more I try the more I forget. dreams do not follow a logical thread, so it is useless to force ourselves to try to remember them.