The Mafia's Dove (Hyunjin centric)

Storm

(. . . . . . . Hi? I've returned? Life is better and I can write again? Anyway, this chapter was supposed to be one mega chapter, but it's already longer than any other chapter I have ever written, so I decided to cut it into two parts instead of having a twenty thousand word chapter. That means all the shit hits the fan in the next chapter, but I think this one is pretty fun too. I really went heavy with the metaphors for some reason. Anyway, enjoy!)

(⚠️Warning: Suicidal ideation⚠️Shit gets kind of depressing. But you know, drama)

-Hyunjin's POV-

The scent of petrichor warned of an approaching storm long before the clouds did, the earthy smell dancing through the air whimsically, like a leaf fluttering towards the ground from the safety of a branch.

But even as ominous clouds gathered in the distance, the sun continued to peek through the few remaining white wisps during the entire trip back to the beach house. The sunlight casted down resiliently even as the clouds attempted to smother it, but whatever warmth it still managed to offer was for naught as we soon took shelter inside.

It was always easier to overlook the turmoil of an approaching storm while in the safety of a warm house, the chill bite in the growing wind going unnoticed thanks to the four walls that shielded us from the angered elements.

Soon the smell of petrichor was overpowered by the smell of cooking fish, the grayish tint to the remaining sunlight almost unnoticeable thanks to the lights that illuminated the dining room. Even the eventual splatter of raindrops against the windows was drowned out by chatter, the warmth and tranquility that now filled the space a stark contrast to the storm brewing outside.

Yet even as I sat surrounded by my loved ones as warm food was served around the table, I found myself relating more to the brooding weather than to the happiness that surrounded me.

All of them had had a wonderful day at the expo, and their excitement for what they had ordered was obvious by their exuberant demeanors and more frequent laughter. They joked around in a manner I could only compare to what I envisioned drunk sailors to be like, permanent smiles etched on to all of their faces as they passed the Lau Lau around the table. Even Minho adorned a smile, though small, and despite my presence he still grew playful with the others. He joked and laughed and poked fun in a way I only in the past managed to catch glimpses of before he noticed me approaching, so to see it freely was as jarring as it was heartwarming.

But even the sound of their laughter and the sight of their smiles did little to slow the growing hollowness that threatened to swallow me, and it took all I had to put on a brave face and not shy away from the few times they attempted to include me in the conversation.

The decision I had come to at the expo had been rushed and fueled by emotion, but even as I mulled it over more with a calmer state of mind, my decision remained the same. The fact I was even slightly saddened by the idea of killing myself was only proof enough I had waited too long. Before it would have been easy, but now . . .

Tearing myself away from all of their warmth was karma, in a way.

The pain in my chest had returned even after I had decided, but the feeling of unrest had eased a lot. Now it was a heavy sorrow that burdened me, an anguish that weighed down my lungs and soured my stomach. Even the steamed fish Changbin had worked so hard to prepare tasted bland, and the sound of their voices seemed far away.

I wasn't nearly as disassociated as I had been last night, but I still felt like I existed in my mind more than I did in reality. And my mind currently wasn't the best place to be. I had decided that I would try to enjoy the remaining time I had left, that I would soak up as much of this happiness that I could. But I was failing miserably, because even though I should have been nothing but content with my plan, I still felt troubled.