pretty boy | taekook

tell me something

chapter nineteen ;; tell me something
jeongguk's perspective
°☆.。.:*・°☆

It was alluring, the way his soft lips moved as he spoke words of faintness. They formed organic shapes as wisps of chilly air fell out into the open. Water vapor was highly about, caught red handed in the night of it all. Orange and yellows danced across our stupid faces as we both laid on our backs. Black metal, that's what I felt under my white shirt. It was cold as always, being the amazing conductor of temperature the material was, but it felt colder tonight. The feeling hit my core and my essence, knocking me off of my usually smoothly ran train tracks.

The sounds Taehyung were making didn't quite form within my ears. It sounded like gibberish, casted aside as the orangey-yellow tinged parking lot lights continued to shine down, creating a sweet soul of some kind. For a moment, I imagined the condensation surpassing Taehyung's lips as he droned to be smoke, cigarette smoke. I imagined how his mouth must taste like with the revolting musk of warmth and ashes mixed with chemicals and tar, his lungs turning blacker overtime as alveoli became its own condensation of death smothered in addiction.

"You're droning." I quietly speak, my fingers twitching as they lay above my head.

"What do you mean?" His eyes look over in bewilderment, but I do nothing to look back, noting how his eyebrows begin to loudly furrow as lips pout.

"I hear sounds, words, sentences, but I hear no emotion. I see the actor without the role, the character without the personality. Your voice is like the Tinman without his heart, the Scarecrow without his brain, the Lion without his courage...Dorothy without Kansas." My own voice continues on, sorrowful. It must be a late time of an hour; my brain always seems to switch on into a semi-sociopathic and sadistic state. I was in no way myself, slowly unwinding into another as his eyes continued to stare, lips now pursed in thought.

"I still don't understand what you mean, Jeongguk."

"You're talking about nothing important. My mind drives on importance."

My eyes shift over to his, taking in a sweet gulp of his appearance that continued to floor me. Who knew that a creature of such little importance to the world could be so beautiful and important to me? Maybe I empathized him, understanding his feelings of wanting to be heard but not being loud enough, and that's why I found the beauty in the shell that tried so hard to fix itself with school tape instead of nails.

"Then what do you want to talk about?" He snaps, frowning and looking over at me with annoyance. It had been the first time that I'd annoyed Taehyung to the point of him clearly showing me. Other times, he'd try to conceal his feelings. It had also been the first time that I spoke out the way I did, trusting that he wouldn't hate me for it. My thoughts were now wavering with my set lips, "I have no idea what you want right now, so please, enlighten me on what you want me to do. What do you want to talk-"

"You." With teary eyes that glimmer like the stars held above in pure darkness, unknown that there are others just like it, cloaked by the black of the sky, unable to hear the admiring comments it receives nightly, I look up at him, "No more of me. We always talk too much about me. I want to know about you, Little Shell."

"I'm not Little." Taehyung mumbles, staring down at me with cloaked eyes.

"You are Little, to the rest of the world. We all are, failed experiments of an unknown power from above." I gulp, looking back up at the globes of plasma hung by an invisible string, "Do you think that if there was a creator, they would be satisfied with us and what we've done?"

"Who's we?" Taehyung dumbly asks, almost causing me to hold back a cocky laugh that'd be bound to set off more smoke alarms in the sky.

"The world, every being of all kinds."