Choco-Cinnamon Make Me Something Stupid [WONJAY]

Your's

-----t h a t 's  l i f e------

Stomping a dream.

Heesung stares at the disappointed faces surrounding him. Yelling from all directions as he hears the constant noise from another dimension.

It screams at him in its chaotic symphony.

It is ringing, screaming at him to escape.

To cover his entire being in itself to collapse.

The omega phermones overtake all his senses as he backs up, holding his hand to his nose.

The pungent smell of stale air.

All of the air in his lungs dissipating as he feels his throat close up. His mouth agape to inhale anything.

All that greets him the constant sensation of cotton filling up his mouth as hundreds of small needles pick open the fleshy walls of his mouth.

His mind fuzzy, as he loses control from the putrid scent of absolutely nothing, the scent of devoid of substance draining his own consciousness away from him.

It sucks out his thoughts, vacuuming all insolite and sane thoughts from man. Rational swirling out an ear and into the deafness of space.

The room is empty as the scent tells him, but physically, he's not alone.

His pupils expand as he feels all eyes on him, excepting him to do something anything.

The room expands until he sees everything, every motion, every step every breath, every twitch of the eye.

Then, it collapses into itself. The only thing he knows now is himself. Leaving him stranded in his own head, nothing around him to be explored or found.

As everything was now only him.

His instincts screaming at him to move, to fight the unknown threat.

The scent of emptiness continues to play games with his mind. The room is devoid of any scent, to the point where he can't even smell himself.

Empty.

The game he played, the game he's stuck on.  He, Heesung, must have flown too far away from home.

As all he has left is himself. All he has left is him.

"Heesung. Heesung. Heesung. Hyung!!!!"

It's warm, he thinks to himself, staring up into the eyes of the abyss.

"Hyung!"

As he thinks, is this how a beta must feel, not able to comprehend the scents around them. The complex relationships between the two other subgenders. One's he fights against every day.

It's empty.

But it's perfect.

A hand lands on the vessel.

"Hyung!"

Lips clever upwards and crescents crinkle at the edges.

"I'm getting married to Sunghoon!"

Ah.

That's perfect.

The air thickens, sweetness returns to his palate, and bitterness fills his whole person.

"Congrats."

The curve tightens into a straight line, and the crescents open up to almonds.

"Is...that all?"