Make You Feel My Love

To Hell and Back

***Trigger warning. Recollections of assault, drugging, nonconsensual bodily contact (SA)

Jeongin POV

I ran until the sun was high in the sky- people staring at me with concern and curiosity. Until my heart slammed, throbbing like it wanted to escape the cage of my chest. Until my pulse was choking me and my legs felt heavy. I ran until my stomach ached- hunger pangs making my side cramp with need of sustenance.

Until the dark thoughts in my head ceased- giving me peace, finally.

I ran until my shirt clung to me soaked with sweat, releasing Chan's smell to my nostrils. I'd stolen his shirt to sleep in, loving being wrapped in his scent. The notes of vanilla and candy-coated pecans and sandalwood rose, mixed with the odor of my exertion and I felt myself double over, collapsing shakily against a non-descript brick building- ignoring the looks of disgust as I sat, knees drawn up.

It was okay, I reminded myself. My brain was finally quiet. Blank.

I hung my head, droplets of sweat beading on the ends of my ginger hair, falling down to the sidewalk below me. I panted heavily, trying to catch my breath. Swallowing my own saliva- trying to quench a sudden insatiable thirst. I craved water, and I patted my pockets realizing I didn't have money with me.

No wallet. No keys. No phone.

I looked up, trying to mark my surroundings and found myself floundering, not recognizing the signs that hung above my head. I was so trapped in my own pitiful head I didn't see much beyond that. My eyes scanned across the street- hope for a landmark or a shop I could loiter in and use their phone.

My eyes refused to focus at first- not comprehending what they saw. It was a common enough three-story building. Smoothly sided with grey paint, the landscaping pretty with bright yellow blossoms springing from the flower boxes. Perhaps that's what had thrown me off. Because something about the structure was...familiar. It took me a long moment before my brain started screaming- remembering.

The last time I'd seen the building it had been winter. No happy flowers or green bushes to hide what it really was. I stared, unmoving at the apartment building of him.

The man I'd met at the bar that night.

Flashes of recollection shone behind my eyelids- fuzzy on the edges like a filter or old photograph. His smile as we played pool, shot after shot of tequila-toasting me- his words like static in my brain. His mouth against mine- the kiss I did remember. Sloppy and... wrong.

Not Chan- not sweet or slow or loving-a taking, cruel thing.

My skin crawled- wishing the images away, shaking my head side to side as I gripped handfuls of my sweat laced hair- hoping the pain would anchor me- bring me back to reality. A vague flash of a streetlight caught my attention that night, as he opened the door of his car, draping my arm across his shoulder, supporting my drunken weight.

Then I was inside- a room with pale walls, a lumpy couch. His mouth... on my neck- my chest. His hands... a foreign weight on my hips- a sudden fear coursing through me and then darkness.

I felt the bile rise in my throat, that memory new- unpleasant and unwanted. Maybe Chan was right- maybe he had....

I shook my head violently- refusing the thought. No. I had just been drunk. He'd kissed me... touched my chest- that wasn't so bad. I couldn't let myself believe for one second anything more had happened.