BTS:Ramdomess

BTS:2(shots)The Weight of Us <TaehyungxReader>

Don’t do this to me.”

The words seemed to slam into you like physical blows, hitting your entire body, icy cold and burning hot all at once. The sensation was too overwhelming. It felt like the world shifted, threatening to uproot you as it threw itself sideways beneath your feet. Suddenly you couldn’t stand to hear his voice, couldn’t stand to meet his eyes. You couldn’t stand for his eyes to look at you.

Suddenly, you couldn’t stand him.

You found your feet moving backwards by themselves, back-stepping against your will as the room seemed to close in on you. You weren’t aware until that moment that your face was hot, heavy tears coursing down your cheeks and off your chin. You closed your eyes, willing the walls of the small studio to stop moving closer whilst willing yourself to continue to remove yourself from the situation.

“…I’m so sorry, Tae. I’m so sorry.”

The voice spilled over into the small room and you realized, much to your shock, that it was yours. It was rough, torn apart by sheer emotion, and nearly impossible for you to recognize. It was just another sign that you had to get out of there, the feeling of tension in your muscle and joints becoming unbearable as your body screamed at you to run.

Just run.

Suddenly his hands were on your arms, physically trying to keep you there, but not in a way that was rough or aggressive. The gesture was more legitimately terrified of what would happen if he didn’t somehow tether you to the situation at the moment, almost as if trying to draw a physical lifeline between you and the Earth. Usually you would appreciate it, but it was almost as if his touch physically burned you.

“Let’s talk about this,” he pled as you suddenly jerked away, desperately trying to get away from him. Your hip hit the desk behind you, sending notebooks, a cup of pens, and a particularly expensive-looking speaker crashing to the floor. You looked at the mess, blinking, the world suddenly becoming sharper in your eyes as the instinct to run became even stronger.

So you did.

Shoving past him, you sprinted to the frosted glass door, not bothering to cast so much as a single glance back at him, not giving a thought to even grabbing your coat. You felt as if all of the air was being sucked out of you, scorching your lungs and throat. Upon throwing the door open, you were met by several sets of eyes, all watching you with shell-shocked expressions.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice came after you and you dipped a quick bow to the other boys.

“Sorry about your speaker, Yoongi,” the words rippled out of your mouth hoarsely before you turned and took off down the hall. You were sure you heard the boy say something along the lines of ‘who cares about the damn speaker?’ as you fled.

You thought you could handle it. You thought that the emotions you had for him, the love that you had for Taehyung would be enough. The fact that they hadn’t been made you feel incredibly weak and vulnerable. Maybe feelings could never be as bulletproof as you thought they could be.

Two days ago you had woken up to find your entire life on the front page of the internet, ripped to shreds by netizens. And it was all because they didn’t consider you good enough to love the person that they all claimed to love as well. Every shred of you that existed online, and even shreds of your personal life that had been dredged from colleagues and ‘friends’, had been dragged into the spotlight for the speculation of others. And speculate they had. In the most brutal ways possible.

A foreigner and an idol. It was an impossible dream. You had known that from the start, but that didn't mean that it didn’t still hurt like hell. How could anything possibly hurt so much? How could emotions feel so much like a physical stab to the chest?