pretty boy | taekook

my answer

chapter forty ;; my answer
jeongguk's perspective
°☆.。.:*・°☆

There was an infinitely clinging silence to it all. As the waves furiously crashed at the bottom with a crisped spritz brought along a heavy breeze, my hair tossed around, though I was completely still. It was like my body was paralyzed, fear strangling me at the feeling of a lost connection.

The pieces didn't fit quiet as well, leaving cracks to run throughout and areas needed refilling. They matched the scratches running across the palms of my hand, the ones that'd connected painfully to the ground, just like how my mind had connected painfully to reality. Time had taken ahold, jostling me out of fairytales and dreams. Mr. Tan wasn't real, yet I had foolishly held onto the idea so tightly.

With a head held up to the sky and tears cascading, it felt like I had finally reached the limit, like there couldn't possibly be another shove over the cliff. Not that I was planning on dying. My mom would be so disappointed in me. The ferocious water down below just seemed infinitely enticing, possibly a way to cure the roaring fever deep within my veins.

Irony could go fuck itself.

Eyes blank but glazing across the seascape, sweet sounds of pianos uplift from my car radio. A time where I was undeniably jubilant with passions and ambitions, being a pianist was all I desired. Mom had created a CD of me playing at an age of only eleven, my prime time for wishes. Now those ambitions were dead. It was only a reminder of everything else.

Death, death, death, reeking a havoc that could never be classified as beautiful. No matter how many autumn leaves you could show me, no matter how many snow filled lands I could play in, there was no way to convince me otherwise. It was stupid, horrific, and downright terrifying when you're up at the butcher's cutting board.

"You're here." The voice only brought more tears to my already damp face, letting out a loud scream of frustration and hatred, while the white piece of paper that used to be uncreased was strangled within my own grasp. It took only a second to rip the paper to shreds in an enraged silence, the eyes of another carefully trained within a firmly set distance. He was afraid, as he should be. I brought nothing but depressing thoughts and life-ruining impacts. A group of friends had shattered so easily, almost as easily as the paper that was now floating down the cliff and towards the dark blue ocean, "Baby-"

"Don't. I don't like being sucked up to." I snap, staring down at the lapping waves, which crashed and thrashed around.

Taehyung bites down on his plump lower lip, staring down at his feet with black shoes. They contrasted against my white converse that were now offset from kicking up rocks and dirt. He walks forward, footsteps echoing through my ears seeming much more sensitive and keen to only his movements and actions, like they'd trained themselves to understand. Taehyung was now easy to view through my peripheral vision.

A deep, sad sigh emitted past his dry lips before speaking, sticking his tongue out to wet them, "I should've assumed that, but I need to know why you've been so hostile towards me, why you ran away the morning after you had that fever, before I could even wake up."

A bitter laugh intertwined with so many fuck you's it was impossible to count, "Come talk to me when your first love shouts at you that your loyalty isn't believable enough and they almost give up on you without any words exchanged after a misunderstanding."