Falling for Your Lies(sope)

Morning's Weight.

Authors pov

The early morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting a muted glow across Yoongi's dorm room. Hoseok slowly blinked awake, his eyes heavy, the weight of emotion still clinging to him. He shifted, but as he sat up, a sharp pain surged through his body, making him wince and forcing him back down into the comfort of the mattress. He hissed quietly, staying still for a moment, the lingering ache serving as a reminder of every moment, every touch from last night.

After a long breath, he carefully pushed himself up, sitting on his knees. He glanced beside him, half-expecting to see Yoongi lying there, a reassuring presence to ease the doubts that had crept in with the night. But the bed was empty, cold where Yoongi had once been. The silence weighed heavily around him as he called out, "Yoongi?" His voice was soft, barely breaking the quiet of the room. He looked toward the bathroom, hoping for a response. But there was nothing. Only silence.

A sigh escaped him, sadness settling in his chest. He had expected to see Yoongi here, hoped for some small comfort. But the emptiness spoke volumes. It was becoming painfully clear—whatever last night had meant to him, it didn’t seem to hold the same weight for Yoongi.

He had never imagined his first experience would be like this. The pain had been more intense than he’d expected, every second of it a raw, consuming ache. And Yoongi… Yoongi had never once been gentle.

With effort, he moved to the edge of the bed, the soreness making him limp as he found his clothes scattered across the floor. Slowly, he dressed, each movement deliberate, his fingers clumsy as he pulled on each piece of clothing. Once he was dressed, he approached the mirror, pausing to take in his reflection. He couldn’t help but cringe.

His eyes were swollen, heavy with the weight of last night’s tears, and faint fingerprints still marked his cheeks from Yoongi’s grip. His hair was a mess, tangled and unkempt, but he didn’t have the energy to fix it. With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror, taking one last look around the room that now felt unfamiliar, and began his painful walk toward the door.

He limped slowly, each step a reminder of what he had experienced. Part of him was grateful today was a weekend; he wouldn’t have to face anyone or force himself through the routine of school. The thought of exams, studying, all of it felt distant. Even if he tried, he knew he couldn’t focus like this.

His father’s face flickered in his mind—stern, expectant, with standards that seemed impossible to reach. Hoseok’s heart clenched. This was not what his father would want for him, to be distracted, especially by something—or someone—that seemed to slip away as quickly as it had happened.

He couldn't help but regret giving himself to Yoongi in that way, it wasn't worth it at all. And he had this lingering fear that once Yoongi had gotten what he wanted, once Yoongi had gotten into his pants, he would never hear from Yoongi again and that hurt because no matter the pain Yoongi caused Hoseok, the abuse, the insults, it all didn't matter like the love Hoseok had for Yoongi and Hoseok was sure with his life that Yoongi didn't love him, atleast not the way he did, but still he wanted to believe that things would work out, that Yoongi would finally see what he was missing out on. But now, Hoseok just wanted to lay in bed and wallow in his sadness, knowing that this was something he’d carry alone.