Very Unlikely (Seongjoong)

~4~

^
A song that really helped me!

TW. SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SH.(this will describe it somewhat, if you're uncomfortable with that, please skip over that part. I put an individual tw right before the part, and have put in bold where it ends)
If you are struggling, you are definitely not alone in this. The suicide hotline is 988.
Stay safe everyone 💜

|-|

Hongjoong laid in his and San's sheared room. Peacefully conversing with him.

He heard San's phone buzz. Annoyance stirred in Hongjoong's stomach. Already knowing exactly who it was.

San stood from his bed.
"Hey I'm gonna-"
San began.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, huffing slightly.
"You're gonna go stay with Wooyoung. I know. Just go."

San quietly stared at Hongjoong. A frown creasing his brows.
"Why are you so pissed off?"
San scoffed.

"Why wouldn't I be? When was the last time you just spent the night with me?"
Hongjoong was annoyed. San was right. He'd been annoyed. The anger has been building in his body for two years. The years Wooyoung and San had been together.

"Not sure. When was the last time you didn't spend the night getting you brains fucked out by someone you don't even know?"
San's words were sharp.

They were sharp because they were true.

"I- get out."
Hongjoong pointed to the door.

"Get over yourself, Hongjoong."
San stayed standing in front of his bed. Staring dead faced at his friend.

"What do you mean?"
Hongjoong questioned. Anger still laying strongly on his tone.

"You aren't fucking happy for your only damn friend. You aren't happy that I'm in love. That I enjoy my life. Just because you're sad, and lonely, doesn't mean I have to be too, Hongjoong.- I've been so supportive of you. And I want you to be happy. But I can't keep sitting here watching you destroy yourself."
San's eyes were glassy. Tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

San walked out of the dorm room. Locking the door behind him.

Hongjoong felt sick. He dropped onto his bed sobbing.

The argument felt so out of no where.

He replayed San's words in his mind over, and over.

He wasn't destroying himself.

He wishes he could. He wishes he could leave. Disappear.

I wished he could end it.
H

e wanted to end it.
And he could. So, so, easily.

He felt so tired.

Hongjoong reached into his side table. Bringing out a small razer blade. His eyes clouded with tears as he looked at it.

(TRIGGER WARNING)

He pressed the small blade into the soft skin of his wrist. The pain of the cold metal drawing blood bringing him a sort of-
Comfort?