pastel [3]

thirty eight

Third Person point of view

Taehyung had never felt so much pain. Not even when he was being torn apart did he feel the need to scream until everything turned to a blur. Or to cry until his head was clouded with pain.

It was like every one of his senses had been amplified beyond what the mortal mind could withstand, each sound was searing, smells were nauseating, touch was so overstimulating that he struggled to lay within the soft cotton that covered his bed. All of this was stemming from that stupid nightmare he'd had, each detailed memory resurfacing with the absence of the one that was supposed to keep him grounded. They were constant reminders of his old self, of who he was in his original life, a murderer and a deranged recluse that no one dared approach. Each day that passed since he'd sent Jungkook home only built on the harrowing thoughts. As if he was still stuck in the nightmare but it bled into the times that he was awake. Each vision became more gruesome and more detailed until Taehyung could no longer differentiate between his current reality and the truth of his original psyche.

"Daehyun.... Please... I need you now." He cried into the empty house, choking on his tears as he laid sprawled out on the floor with his hands curled up into soft fabric to try and dismantle the tempting urges that were overwhelming his rational thinking. "Please. It's happening to me again..." Each desperate plead was spoken to his missing half, necklace hanging heavy on his neck just barely soaking up the edges of his daze enough to keep his thoughts at bay.

The thoughts of murder.

---

The days had blurred into haze again. It was getting ridiculous the amount of sick days Jungkook was having to take from work all because of the chaos that Taehyung had drawn back into his life. Getting paralysed was not something he ever expected, and quite frankly never wanted to feel again. Even three days later it felt like all of his muscles were jelly, struggling to hold his weight. Jimin said his blood pressure was really low - which explained why he kept passing out when he stood up. With lots of fluids and regular meals Jimin prepared for him, he was slowly starting to feel sane again.

It felt empty to be away from Taehyung. A part of Jungkook wished he'd just stayed with the blonde boy and recovered there. Though it was clear the boy was in no headspace to be taking care of someone else. Jimin was the best person to be with during this time.

"Have you finished your water?" Spoke up his housemates voice from the doorway, jolting Jungkook out of his light sleep. He lifted himself on his arms, looking around the room with a bleary squint before settling on the one who had spoken. "You look like shit." Laughed the older, his voice getting closer until Jungkook felt a hand on his shoulder, then a glass of water was being guided to his lips.

"'m not a baby," groaned Jungkook after accepting the fresh drink. "Can drink myself."

"I left that glass there hours ago, Kook. Clearly not." He huffed, glaring half-heartedly which earned another laugh from Jimin. "You seem better in comparison to the last few days."

"Wanna stand up."

"Not a chance, Taehyung strictly said you needed to stay in bed for four days. Don't test your body with this magic paralysis stuff, I don't want you getting worse." The stern words were followed by Jimin tipping the glass up again, letting Jungkook empty to the contents of the drink before placing it on his bedside table. Turning back Jimin watched the younger sit up with a slight sway, eyes fluttering shut in slow hazy blinks. Whilst the colour on his cheeks had returned and he could actually hold himself up on his own, it was the layer of dissociation that had Jimin still worried. "How has your head been?"

"Mm, just keeping thinking about Taehyung." Murmured Jungkook with something akin to lovesickness. "Can I call him?"

"Tae doesn't have a phone remember. You can go visit him tomorrow after work." The younger gave a slight nod, dropping back down to nestle into the pillows.