"Oh, and believe me, she was well aware of the circumstance in which she had placed herself in. For she knew that her hands were intertwined with the broken boy himself as they pranced, but that was her fault. A fault in which she decided to see the...
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06: Pray for the Sinners Act 1, scene 6
As told by Jungkook
ALTHOUGH THE MOON sends its atmosphere to engulf my in a hug as a depressant for my loneliness, the sun has another coping mechanism for it. It's radiance instead flutters against my skin, as if it was giving me butterfly kisses as a way to open my eyes to perceive the world in which I no longer want to strive in once again.
And it did, but instead of a package of warmth, I was delivered weight as well.
As my top and bottom lashes disentangle with each other, the brightness blinded me for a second; for it was giving me an excuse to register other things, such as birds singing its ritual melody, the engines of cars rattling against the cars up ahead, or a pair of clammy hands engulfing me in a cuddle at near my waist.
However, as my eyesight gradually focused of what was exhibited before me, I gazed at a the physical appearance of who was responsible of holding onto my dearly as if it was their last ounce of faith; and between intervals of time that I had scrutinized him I had drawn several conclusions. First being, that he would occasionally strengthen his grip on me; squeezing me tighter. Second, how he would let words escape past his lips that I couldn't comprehend even when I'm sober. Lastly, how he often his body movements fluctuated, for I had lost the count of how he would put drape his leg on mine on and off.
For it was like I didn't even know him after all.
"Hyung," I mumbled, gazing down at him. My body was lightly pushing him forward in hopes of the impact to cause him to slide off of me. "Hyung," I repeated once again, this time putting more force into my body, for the lighter movement only cause him to grip tighter once again. "Come on, get up, it's morning."
The reminder of the time of day was like his way for him to open his eyes, but it was as if the scenery before him made me him confused, for it was like he had no idea where he was. He leans off of me and pushes me away from his frame in panic, causing my head to collide with the back of the building.
"Shit," I hissed with a touch of venom pouring out of my mouth along with the word; for perhaps my words were laced with every word that trailed out of my mouth to fling out into the open air for others to perceive. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
"Hey!" Taehyung growled, one hand clenched around my arm as the other hand rubs his eyes to adjust to the world he had returned to. "I'm your hyung, don't talk to me like that."
"Well, don't hang onto me like some fucking koala," I mumbled, rubbing the by the back of my head. From my response, he shot my a death glare; with his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes squinted, with the top of his lashes almost intertwining with the bottom ones and his lips pouted. He exhibited the look on his face like a canvas, and his slender hands pressed down on the dying grass as he pushed himself back against the building where he originally was. I've expected him to use his words to respond back instead of just the look on his face, but I guessed being the "hyung" he is, he decided to be the bigger man in the abandoned junkyard and drop it.
"What time is it," he looked over at me, gesturing to the pocket of my hoodie where my phone resided, "exactly?"
I sighed, my eyes fixated at the pile of cars that imitated a skyscraper as I stuck my hand through the pocket of my black hoodie, fishing around for my phone. Once I pull it out, it informs me that it is half past nine. Instead of vocalizing the time of what part of the earth is rotating at it, I extended my arm across my body to present it to Taehyung.
For a second, his physique inclines at an angle towards me as his brown orbs gaze at the time. Though it was as if the time caused his demeanor to suddenly shift. He sat straight up, face pale, and his eyebrows drawn this time apart.
"Shit," he says this time. "I've got to go meet a client," he announces, suddenly scrambling to his feet as I watched him, still sitting. He pushes himself upward to his feet and dusts off his jeans. He looks at me for a second before bending down to gather the plastic bag of goodies we shared last night. As his fingers loop through the handle, he says to me, "want one for the road?"
I grin back at him, for no words needed to be conversated for us to be aware of my answer. His hand disappears for a second, only for it to reappear through the thin plastic. He rummages through the bag without looking, for his eyes are still fixated at me, until he grabs something.
Without looking at the bottle, he tosses the an unknown orange bottle, with a long, medical term that I'm not aware of; but it doesn't matter. Although I'm unaware of what it'll do to my body, I know that it will bring me a good time.
But before I could tear my gaze away from it to thank him, he was already gone.
