Chapter 4. Pool me in, Dive me out.

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"Don't even think about it."
If the glacial tone in the quietly spoken command, wasn't enough to freeze the ebony haired boy to the floor, then the firm grip on his shoulder, was.
"Unless you want to scare the life out of him." The voice held unmistakable warning, the steely grip on the shoulder, unyielding, as again the ebony haired boy attempted to step forward.
"But-" Tae's voice was a low whine of disappointment.
"You can't help him, he isn't ready," the voice interrupted quietly. Giving the boy time to think about his next move, if any.

It wasn't so much the fact that the coach was practically screaming at the swim team telling them how lazy, unprofessional and downright sloppy they were, as the boys all hung their heads in a mixture of embarrassment, shame and more than a little anger.

No.

It was the fact that Jungkook was standing at the side of the pool shivering, his teal coloured swim shorts clinging to his muscled thighs like a second skin and his dark hair fell over his smooth forehead, cloaking his tired eyes.

He hadn't seen Tae in a week and it had started to show.
It showed in the nightmarish dreams he had but couldn't seem to recall in the light of day.
It showed in the lack of focus he was experiencing with his studies.
It showed in the uncontrollable bouts of despondent hysteria, to lurching to the manic state of euphoria, thoughts of Tae brought him to.

He was exhausted.

He was confused.

And it broke Tae's heart to see him like this, knowing he couldn't help him. It was against the rules.
He desperately wanted to.
He wanted to end all the pain, all the confusion, and make him whole.
He wanted to make it right.
"He has to-"
"I know, father. He has to see it himself." It was Tae's turn to interrupt.
"He is awakening." There was a smile in the voice, but it did little to elicit any real enthusiasm for Tae.
"I only hope he can see it, before it kills him," Tae said, his voice devoid of any kind of expectation, before pulling his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

He shrugged his father's hand from his shoulder, pivoted on his heel and walked away, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his white pants, effectively killing any notion he had of walking over there and throwing Jungkook over his shoulder and carrying him off like some hero in a movie.

Understanding he couldn't tell Jungkook anything about their situation, made him realised he had to do something for him. Something.
Anything, that would ease the pain and confusion he was witness to.
It gutted him seeing the boy so down and defeated, of course he knew what it was, but he couldn't exactly tell him, could he?

A. It was against the rules.

B. Who's to say he'd believe him anyway?

Instead, he spent a few hours with the black eyed beauty almost everyday, surrounding him, embroiling him in his company. Spending time just talking, and more often than not, Tae would allow the other to sketch him.
It seemed to work, at least on healing him a little.
He was smiling again, his eyes sparkled with life and intelligence, and there was a brilliance about him once again.

He was seriously happy now, seriously happy, and it was hard to believe that just the thought of one person could catapult you into such a state of heightened exultation, like the one Jungkook now found himself in, over Tae.
He'd only known him a short time, but it felt like he'd never not known him. He knew that didn't make sense, but a part of him undoubtedly felt connected to the ethereal boy.

He was still thinking about him as he was stashing his books back into his locker, when a voice interrupted his day dream. It took him a moment or two to realise that Suho was actually talking to him.

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