Sound of Winter || Taegyu

Chapter Forty Four

Beomgyu lays on the floor shivering, from both the coolness of the room and the pain shooting through him. His eyes remain focused on Seiji, unable to tear his gaze away from the lifeless body beside him no matter how many times Kai calls his name. He feels sick to his stomach – this was once a person, a pulsing being, now still and silent beside him, his eyes frozen in a permanent stare. His skin is pale and clammy, eyes staring back at his own as if they're accusing him of everything that has happened.

"You're bleeding," Kai rushes out, grabbing his arm tightly, holding his hands over the fresh cut, his hands immediately coating in a thick, sticky layer of crimson. Beomgyu looks up at him. He looks terrified, eyes coated in a thin glassy layer from where he's holding back his own tears. "They already called for help, they'll be here soon. Everything is going to be okay, I promise." Beomgyu knows that Kai is only trying to reassure himself, trying to remain calm for the both of them.

"Fuck," Kai curses, the tears finally spilling from his eyes when he realizes how much blood there is. Another string of profanities pass his lips before he's letting go of Beomgyu's arm, hurriedly undoing the belt on Seiji's pants with shaky hands. He stares down at his own arm in horror, understanding why Kai is freaking out the way he is. The gash is much deeper now, a jagged tear that feels like it's throbbing with each beat from his heart. The blood flows from it, pooling to the ground in a sickeningly red puddle.

Kai doesn't hesitate, wrapping Seiji's belt around his upper arm. The leather is cool as it's pulled tightly against his skin. There's another surge of pain when the belt tightens, the buckle digging into his flesh. Beomgyu lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes closed. It doesn't hurt as bad as when it first happened, but it's still intense, shooting through his body with a burning passion.

"I know it hurts," Kai frowns, putting pressure back on his arm, his hands shaking.

He tries to nod, but his head feels unbelievably heavy, body weak and drained. With each passing second, he can feel his strength ebbing away, eyelids becoming heavier.

"No, no, no," Kai rushes out, grabbing his face. He can feel the sticky blood against his skin from Kai's hands. "I need you to stay with me, Gyu. You're not allowed to die on me." Kai lets go of his hold on his face, bringing an arm to wrap around his neck, trying to pull him into a hug. A choked sob passes Kai's lips, his entire body shaking as his breaths some in ragged gasps. "Please don't–" he lets out a broken whimper. It breaks his heart to see Kai like this, especially when he can't do anything about it. " I can't do this without you," he cries, burying his face in Beomgyu's shoulder.

The warm tears seep into his shirt, dampening his skin. He brings up a hand to grab Kai's, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze. It takes a lot of his energy, but he needs Kai to know that everything is alright.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" Beomgyu asks, his voice quiet. He keeps his eyes shut, breathing steadily through his nose, trying to keep himself calm. The room remains silent, Kai pulls away but doesn't answer his question. He peeks an eye open to see Kai staring down at him in confusion. "Taehyun?" He asks, "he'll forgive me, right?" His voice is shaking, cracking as he forces the words out.

He should've never left home. He should've stayed and allowed for Taehyun to explain, but he didn't. Selfishness got the best of him and because of it, he put himself and Kai in danger. And to make matters worse, he cheated on Taehyun again.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Kai assures, holding his hand tightly. His hands are warm and shaky, but they instantly make him feel better. "I promise you didn't."

He nods, looking back up at the ceiling blakely. His breathing becomes faster, more shallow as he bites back the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The pain is not like anything else he's ever felt before, like a thousand knives stabbing into his stomach, twisting and turning with each shallow breath – which is ironic, considering there's only one.