Crescent -ateez&skz x reader

Chapter 6 - Branches of guilt

Warnings: non explicit descriptions of anxiety

Hongjooong POV

Guilt. Raging guilt is all that fills my mind. It is ever consuming. It often feels as though my soul won't let me form a single thought unrelated to it. Guilt over everything.
My past does not define me, that is what I keep on answering that guilt with. Yet my present seems to be nothing but an echo of my previous mistakes, like it is taunting me for the very idea that forgiving myself is even an option to be considered.
And through all of that I find myself unable to regret the decision to seek help in Arla. It was a selfish decision, one made based on instinct that she would be my best option. I saw her kind nature throughout the day I was planning my escape and completely took advantage of it, I knew she would help me. That selfish knowledge cast out thoughts of consequence like one casts away a piece of parchment with the wrong words expressed upon it. That too, brings me great guilt. I abandoned my moral compass just as I had before, for my own selfish interest. There was no reason for me to want to escape those poorly built cells, to slip past the dim-witted guards, no purpose in my life to drive me into choosing myself over this poor girl's livelihood. No matter how  poor of an impression the people around her gave me of it. Yet something spurred me into my decision to escape, the more I think of it the more I realise it was the way she looked at me when I was in the stocks. Not an ounce of judgment or pity, just curiosity. The way her mistress spoke of her viewing myself as innocent made me almost laugh in irony if it were not for the dehumanising expression she wore. For Arla in my eyes seems just that, innocent. Pure, not in the way that makes a man strive to corrupt, but pure in a way that makes a man strive to protect. Another reason guilt eats away at my conscience like a moth to a garment. It feels almost suffocating when she looks at me with that same soft expression on her features as the one when she first saw me. I deserve to be looked at with animosity for uprooting her as I have. It makes me unsure if I dread or long for the day when her gaze will morph into such an emotion. An internal debate which furthers the feelings of selfishness and guilt.
This endless hurricane of thoughts is what drove out of the bed Yeosang showed me to and has me wondering aimlessly across the winding bridges of the elven palace. Is palace even the right term? Fraija stated he is not royalty but the elves opposition to violence makes 'fortress' seem contradictory to their nature. I'll stick with palace, the place is certainly beautiful enough to be described as such.
The distinct feeling of being watched snaps me out of my head and has me carefully observing my surroundings, there is nobody with me on the bridge.
"You know, it's awfully unnerving to have you sneaking around at this hour. If your aim was subtlety you've most certainly flaunted it."
The voice to my left whips me around in a moment of utter panic and exposure, I swallow roughly before regaining my composure. Nobody gets to see me when I feel like this, not again.
I still can't see where the voice is coming from, but it's not on the bridge which leaves the branches cascading around it as the only liable option. The voice belongs to Hyunjin, someone I could definitely live without. God the obnoxious trill of his voice is enough to make me forget all my thoughts, in a strange way it soothes me. Not that I will ever admit that to him, but the temptation to indulge in such a rare luxury pulls me into responding to him. (With equal bite obviously).
"Not that it would quell your distaste for my welcome, but I wasn't sneaking."
It doesn't have nearly as much wit as I'd like but it's all I have right now.
"If not sneaking then what? Do indulge me"
Lord he's irritating.
"Trouble sleeping in new places, fancied a wonder. That satisfactory enough for you Hyunjin"
A low chuckle rings from his shrouded position and he carefully stands up coming into my view. Easily crossing the branches until he settles again on one a couple of feet from the bridge, he tilts his head at me in mock curiosity.
"You're unusually pliant right now, didn't take you for the nervous type"
The slight lack of bite in his tone despite his word choice confuses me, making me resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. Almost.
Hyunjin chuckles again at that. I don't care to give him any more than this so I return the snarky action with a curt nod before walking away from the irritating elf.

~

Reader/ Arla POV

You're laying awake in your bed again now. Completely lost in your own thoughts whilst feeling detached all the same. Those thoughts are screaming at you, yet are incoherent and utterly foreign. You don't understand what they're saying,  just feeling an inexplicable weight on your chest. Every sound you can hear is gnawing at yourskull, as if they're making some fucked up attempt at letting out the demons that are the very spawn of your own subconscious.
The particular sound of Hongjoong returning to his bed across the room shatters the bubble of anxiety around you. He'd left not long ago to god knows where, he'd seemed troubled judging from the tossing and turning so you'd decided against questioning him. That and hoping you'd be able to finally fall asleep without his restless presence, alas, that has not happened.
The ebony haired man looks at you, probably assuming that you're asleep from your lack of movement and the lack of light in the space. You can just make out his features through your barely open eyes, he has a soft, forlorn look about him for reasons you can't decipher. Your heart rate becomes uneven as he takes a few steps towards you, pausing as if conflicted before continuing to do so. You finally allow your eyes to close, the idea of having to speak so soon after leaving your previous headpace feels far to awkward. His actions shock you, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head he softly rubs his thumb over your brow a few times, barely audibly whispering.
"I'm sorry I dragged you into my mess, I'll make it up to you. Sleep well Arla."
You wanted to comfort him in that moment, reassure him that the past several hours have felt anything but a mess. That you felt alive again. But the soft feeling of his gentle touches lulled you too close to sleep to will yourself to speak. And so you slept, with the resolve in the back of your mind to show him how wrong he was.