pastel [3]

twenty five

Taehyung's point of view

We walked in silence down the quiet empty roads, sun forming a halo of golden light around Daehyun and I in a sick sort of mockery of the people we once were. In front of us walked my shadow, reflecting every stagger of my struggling frame held tightly in the embrace of Daehyun's non-existent shadow. There was an emptiness to it, staring fixated on the glow that highlighted my loss.

We didn't talk because I was afraid if I opened my mouth again I would unload every bit of frustration and hate towards my brother in an unnecessary aggression. The push and pull of his care juxtaposed with his tendency to ruin anything that breathes love was infuriating. Whilst I had been born with a void of love but capability of lust, Daehyun had neither. He was completely disconnected from everything that made him a child of Venus.

I still wondered what things would of been like if he hadn't died so young, knowing me I would have just fucked it all up at a different point in time.

With the void of conversation I was able to think about these things, walking a tight rope of consciousness trying to balance the processing of information with the looming threat of being swallowed by my mind forever.

The past was hazy, I wished I remembered more about the centuries of life I had lived. There were faces I could recognise but not name, fleeting letters of recognition that were blotched out with time. A shudder ran through me when the smell of smoke brought a chilling flash of a burning home, nearly tripping only to have Daehyun pull me back up and hold onto my shoulders. Even when he was angry at me for yelling he still showed that unrelenting care - it made me want to punch him.

The warm touch against my arm and fingers gripping my waist had my mind drifting back to the fleeting contact between Jungkook and me. The way he had pulled me close and held me there with a firm confidence I hadn't seen from him since the very beginning of our time together. He had been so intimate and I didn't understand why. He spoke as if he still wanted me dead, angry with me for coming back. Whilst that was the narrative he spoke, there was the contrasting tenderness he showed whenever we interacted. It made no sense. This stupid boy was going to kill me all over again if I thought about it any longer

A sudden jerk on my arm that pulled me off the path snapped me out of it.

"What-" I shot my head toward Daehyun to see he was leading us toward a small cafe that was lit up with warm-toned lights and dark interior. In the setting sun it glowed with a design similar to the chamber I had spent 12 months in. Clearly I didn't hide my discomfort well as Daehyun skidded to a halt and turned to face me, finally speaking for the first time since leaving the house.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I managed to stammer, trying to shut out the images of the dark room lit by warm torches. "Just... bad memories." He nodded in understanding, intertwining our fingers before returning to lead us to an open table. Immediately a waiter was by our side dropping two menus and a jug of water paired with two pretty golden glasses.

"You haven't spoken since we left the house," Daehyun spoke up the second we were back inside our bubble of solitude. He had a shimmery gold concern that circled his irises, still caressing each crevice in my palm.

"I'm..." I stopped myself before I could say it. Sealing my mouth shut. "I'm just thinking..." I changed my reply to. Clicking my tongue out of habit.

"More like worrying..." Daehyun reached forward, bringing my hand into his own. His were warm and soothing, calming my senses as he rubbed small circles on the surface of my own. "Is he hurting you?" I thought for a few seconds, guessing he was referring to Jungkook.