Sound of Winter || Taegyu

Chapter Nine

Beomgyu lays motionless on the cold, damp shed floor for what feels like hours. The air inside is frigid, biting at his skin, but he can't bring himself to do anything about it. He doesn't realize where he is, too dazed and disoriented to try and make sense of anything.

He doesn't know how long he's been out here, but he assumes it's been awhile. He's too cold to do anything, his entire body is too numb, unresponsive to all of his attempts. The freezing air has stolen all of his sensation, leaving him trapped within his own paralyzed form.

A sound from outside of the shed breaks the silence. The creaking of the door's hinges pierces through the stillness. A blinding light slashes through the darkness, forcing his eyes to quint and adjust to the sudden change.

"Shit," Seiji mumbles, setting the flashlight down on the ground as he kneels down in front of Beomgyu to undo the ropes. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice laced with desperation. "I never meant for this to happen."

He picks Beomgyu up, cradling him in his arms. Standing up, Seiji carries him out of the shed and back into the house. His eyes flutter like fragile butterfly wings, slowly unveiling a world that he's never seen before. Disoriented and groggy, he slowly looks around at his surroundings.

Beneath his weight, a sensation of plush softness envelops him, gently cradling his weary body the way that Seiji had moments earlier. The fibers of the couch caress his skin, and he feels like he's sinking into a supple cloud. The house is warm, a complete opposite of the shed.

He stares at the walls that at first appear fancy, their stark white walls complemented with tall, narrow windows. They're devoid of any signs of life or the comfort of decorations. There's no paintings on the wall nor are there photos of cherished memories.

"Can you hear me?" Seiji asks, sitting on the floor in front of him with a mug. There's steam coming from the mug, the scent of tea lingering in the air. He nods and Seiji moves him up a bit on the couch, holding the drink to his lips. He attempts to push it away but Seiji stops him. "You're cold. You need to get your body heat back up."

He's half tempted to make a remark about how he wouldn't be cold at all if Seiji hadn't taken him, but he keeps his mouth shut. As the warm liquid touches his lips, he sighs at the warmth of chamomile and honey spreading across his tongue.

Seiji watches him closely, the corners of his mouth hinting at a smile. He gets up for a moment and grabs a blanket, wrapping it around Beomgyu's shoulder.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Beomgyu whispers, staring down at the cup in Seiji's hand.

"Because I care about you," he frowns and pushes Beomgyu's hair out of his face. He wants to scrub his skin raw where Seiji's touch was at, to get rid of the feeling that lingers. "I have to take you back downstairs, you know that, right?"

He nods and leans himself up on the couch. Each movement he takes amplifies the discomfort, making him acutely aware of his sore body. A dull ache shoots down his back and settles in his shoulders, undoubtedly from his position in the shed.

"We can get you cleaned up, too," Seiji says as he inspects the glass shards in Beomgyu's hand. He stands up a few seconds later, helping Beomgyu to his feet before they make their way downstairs.

Seiji pushes most of the glass away with his shoe and lets out a sigh. "I'll get it up later," he mumbles before taking Beomgyu's uninjured hand and cuffing it to the pole. "Sit down."

He does as he's told and sits down, avoiding the glass cup that now lays in pieces on the floor, its soft curves turned into sharp edges waiting to inflict harm on anyone who gets too close.