iris

[32] nightfall

Agony was nothing compared to the pain and anguish that dispersed itself across Taehyung's severely broken frame. The pain could not be described with any fathomable syllables, for no word had been created to give a precise definition of the excruciating torture and torment.

He wasn't dead but he was close.

Taehyung laid paralysed... soul shattered into fragmented pieces that reflected the house that had caved on top of him. Words couldn't evdn be formed againat his lips, mouth filled with metallic blood that seemed to cover every surface of his body. His chest was buried beneath the debris that had ruined his body, unable to fully take in a breath which led to him gasping silently for air. Tears coated his cheeks as he inhaled smoke and dust, exhaling strained breaths of heavy air.

Longing feelings were held deep down in his weighed down heart. The want and need to let himself go. To let his heart stop, let his respiration fail, let his mind give up. But something held him there. It held him through the black haze and distant shouting and sirens, as people swarmed the unstable structure in search of any survivors.

The boy held him there. Not much younger than himself. A boy who he cherished and the one who cherished him. Who had given him light, hope and smile that never left his expression of joy.

That boy that he loved so dearly. The one he'd do anything for, who he'd give anything for. Who would do just the same in return.

"Jungkook," he managed to cry out desperately, lifting his arm with large amounts of effort to try and release the slowly caving pressure on his front. Voice barely above a whisper, no one could hear his cries, drowned out by the deafening sounds of a saviour too far away.

The plastered board that crushed his chest was light. Even so, it felt like he was Atlas, holding up the sky in the demanding situation. He shoved lightly onto it in hopes to free himself, coughing up more blood knowing the act was not healthy. He kept at the tiring effort trying releasing some of the strain. Taking in deep breaths, he didn't care if his lungs were filled with toxic fumes.

Pushing away the plaster, he managed to crawl across the floor, legs seeming to drag behind him before he collapsed back to the dirt. His final move was to try and roll onto his back so that he could stare up at the shelter above him. One wrong move of debris, and the entire structure would come crashing down on him. Whilst he knew his chances of surviving were low, that pending doom was a certainty of death.

He smiled forcefully into the emptiness, unable to move, hardly able to breathe. Barely alive.

"I promise," he whispered, muscles weakening as he thought of the boy. "May I comment on the fact that you are very cute when you sleep." The smile became genuine as Taehyung recalled the young boy's cute and forwarding words. "Arrogant kid," he muttered, clutching his stomach and lower abdomen. He had most likely broken several bones, feeling sharp points digging into various parts of his body, ribs protruding on places they shouldn't be. He let out a soft whine but didn't dare move in fear that any slight change of balance in the structure would solidify his fate.

"There's something stunning about you," he breathed out, trying his best to imitate the low and sensual voice, yet cute and adorable pitch Jungkook had used. "I wish." His words were becoming strained and forced as his chest hurt like a burning ball of fire that was slowly expanding inside of it. Each breath he swallowed felt like molten lava in his throat.

He opened his mouth wider, trying to push his head back in an attempt to get more air. He was already beginning to lose what was left of his conscience. Unable to move. It was too painful, so he laid motionless waiting for someone. Someone who would save him. He waited minutes... hours... holding on to every bit of hope he had left. The voices of paramedics and firemen yelling out for anyone beneath the rubble. Sirens continuing to bombard the perimetre. But no one came. He was never found. The structure requiring a methodical search that would take time. So the noise died down, and those people who'd given Taehyung small ounces of hope went home for the night. Leaving him to drown in his own sorrow and despair that tugged at his life source. It drained all of his energy until all that's left was his corrupted soul.

"Just once, let me live," he cried out, words inaudible to anyone. Not even he who said the words could differentiate them between grunts and cries. He shut his eyes for ten seconds, staring at the darkness. It was so much darker than the empty night he laid under. The darkness made him feel alone, made him feel dead. So he opened them again, taking in the faint outlines of every bit of his once titled home. It wasn't his home, it was merely the shelter he lived under.

Taehyung was homeless and had been since the day he was born. Since the day he'd been locked in a cupboard for weeks on end, eating nothing but dead bugs he found on the ground. He called this his father's hell period, where he had pretended his own son didn't exist. Taehyung survived out of a miracle, being saved from the cupboard by a snoopy neighbour who had queried about the sound of a crying child that filled the night. His father concerned for the consequences it would have on him, not for the welfare of his own child. This home was never his. His fourth birthday was spent with a mask over his entire face and locked in his room: cold, lonely and afraid.

"Let me live," he repeated quietly, hand brought to his heart to feel for a heartbeat. Slow, but real. "Just till I see him again."

Eventually he found the need to close his eyes, falling asleep under fragmentary light and shrouded stars.

Fallen tears, heavy heart, dying soul.

Kim Taehyung was dying because he'd lost everything that kept him living. Everything but one individual.
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