Seventeen: 01. 07. 15.

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Limbo - Taehyung


My hands were smeared with the colour red. It was the colour of blood, but not the vivid red of the freshly spilled, but more the browning red of old blood. I didn't want to believe that it was blood; it could be red spray paint instead. But who was I fooling? Certainly not myself.

I took my phone out of my pocket, still trembling. I dialled a number in, having to retype a couple of times to get all the digits right. There was no answer, so I left a voicemail after taking an unsteady deep breath. "Jin, I really need you now," I choked on my own words, trying to keep the tears, wails and sobs in. I was strong. Maybe he would come. And if not, that was okay... It had to be.

I wiped the sweat off my head with the back of my hand and gulped. 

I didn't know what to do.







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