Hanahaki - BTS Fanfic #Wattys2017

I Miss You

I had enough money in my backpack to pay for a few bus rides back home. Most of it was spent staring out of the window, replaying the journey Yoongi and I had. Of the laughs we shared when we were joking around in the car on our way to Busan. Of the times he cried on my shoulder in the dark hotel rooms, bloodied petals falling from his lips as his mind wandered to the boy he left back home. 

I thought back of how he fucked me into the mattress, and how soft his lips were against mine, only to find his side of the bed cold. Without so much as a note, he ran away from me, leaving me behind though he knew exactly what I was suffering from, leaving me in an unknown city to fend for myself.

I fell deep at that moment and found bloodied petals escaping my throat. I found out pretty quickly that if you fall deep enough, or throw up enough, the petals start having a gruesome feel, blood staining the pretty pink petals.

I guess after throwing up over three boys, my time had finally come to share the fate that physically pained me more than ever.

I spent a majority of the bus ride trying to throw up bloody petals into my backpack as discretely as possible, though glares and disgusted looks were boring into the back of my head during the entire ride. Mothers who didn't know it was blossoms falling from my lips simply pulled their kids closer to them, away from me as though I was contagious. I snorted at the thought. Like you can catch heartbreak. As though telling your five-year-old kid not to look at the pale freak at the back of the bus not to look would save them from heartbreak.

Finally, my stop had come.

After a full day of stops and such, I made it. And to think it took me and Yoongi so long to get from home to Busan, though we were scattered across the country no doubt to go from city to city.

Fuck, I'm home.

I didn't know what I'd do. Would I simply stay at home, puking my guts out, hoping it would pass by eventually like the others? The first time I had no one. After Jimin, I had Yoongi. What would I have this time? Perhaps I needed to stop depending on people since it only left me miserable in the end.

Stepping off the bus, I inhaled the hot, summer air and lugged my backpack around, walking down the sidewalks and simply staring at the buildings. I was in no hurry to go back to my apartment, and I wanted to savor the last of my strength to stare at the same old buildings, grasping for a fond sense of nostalgia I seemed to be lacking.

I started thinking back to Taehyung. My first love. My first light. My first real friend. And then it all went back to slap me in the face.

We were best friends. We'd spend all of our time together, and we depended on each other. I miss the days of having him as a friend, where I could tell him anything, and we'd joke around. I wish I never caught feelings, and I wish that nothing changed. It's been so long since then, months and months. And to see how much changed.

"Gi?" a voice pops behind me. I freeze.

I turn around, seeing Taehyung but a few feet from me. Speak of the devil, what do you know? I thought his name too many times, and now he came back like beetle juice. 

"Nice seeing you again, Tae," I pipe softly. I notice him slightly flinch at the nickname, his shoulders tensing up and his posture a bit stiff. Still, he covers it up quickly with a look of melancholy and nostalgia, gazing at me with a certain soft stare.

"Long time no see," the boy says softly, stepping closer to me. "Where've you been? You and Yoongi have been gone for about a month, and I thought you two went together until he came back yesterday."

I'm sure my expression was either crestfallen or stoic, but frankly, I didn't care about how I looked. I looked like a hot mess, and I knew it. He's seen me as a hot mess before, whether I liked it or not.