Wound is Yours, Why Does It Make Me Bleed | Taekook FF

6

[A\N: Please listen to " Ghostly kisses " when reading this book. Thank you. ] 

Returning home at night and seeing the emptiness of the presence which was there just a few hours back, Taehyung could for a second hear even the cries of his home. As if not only did his inside confined Jungkook, his physical presence and his breaths but same went to his home. Each and every surface where Jungkook was mentioned as Taehyung wrote over the pages, his type writer or his laptop felt to long for him.

Dropping his eyes on the ground, Taehyung went and sat himself over the couch and felt it sinking below grasping Taehyung's dainty wrist. The place where Jungkook had been sleeping peacefully sank below and below, taking Taehyung's hand, guiding him down to where there lingered a small hint of Jungkook's strong scent.

Placing the things he had bought, Taehyung let himself lose over the spot, falling his head over the armrest where Jungkook was laying. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head pressing his nose over the fabric of the couch as the tingles spread their wings over his flesh, latching themselves over his pores and breathing comfort into his tiny holes.

His bones felt to be filled with the serenity he had prayed for, as his lung got filled with the air rich in Jungkook's scent. The scent that only felt like a left behind lingering shadow of Jungkook's image, Jungkook's voice, Jungkook's words, all of that contributed to form his soul. Taehyung felt it right there, as he deeply breathed in his scent from couch feeling something stinging badly as the back of his closed eyes.

Tears. Poisonous stinging ones. One that didn't only destroy the soul, but also what held someone close enough to go on about life.

Taehyung didn't remember the last time he felt this vulnerable. This sensitive and this needy for a presence that was gone. He had always been alone, like a princess who desired nothing but to live in her little tower, protected from the rest of the world and existing in a part of the world where nobody could reach, nobody could arrive, Taehyung considered himself that. A locked up princess.

But, he locked himself. He chose it. And, he never regretted it. He never liked walking, running or even never dreamt of being somewhere else in the world. He was content where he was, locked among the petals and vegetables he grew, strained among the words of himself and forever lost in the fictional worlds of his mind.

He never dreamt of running away.

Until now.

Until now, when tears formed at the corners of his eyes, his hands clutched themselves over the fabric of the couch with his knuckles turning white as a heart shattering sob escaped the bounds of his lips. He wished for nothing but to dive in, reach somewhere deep in this couch and bring back a part of Jungkook. A part of Jungkook that was alive and not fantasized.

He never wished to run away. Never wanted to chase something. Someone. Until now, when he knew somewhere in the way, Jungkook was heading back and he could stop him. He could scream, reach out to him and make him stop. Just for once he could chase something other than the words that came and vanished in the space of his head.

For once, he desired nothing but just to get up, be mindless of the restrains of the fears, doubts and insecurities. Just run. Run. Run. Run.

But he couldn't. All he could manage to do was just to bury his face in the couch where Jungkook was snoring. Opening his mouth wide, he allowed for his pain to fall in bundles through the gate of his petal lips, his tears getting soaked over the couch and his finger nails tearing through the fabric of the couch. In the search of some print. Some mark. Some hint.