How to Forgive a Demon

Crimson

// Here's a link to a song I was listening to while writing this: https://soundcloud.com/datnigguhx/unbroken-chopgodlewi-x-jvst-x Just some mood music for y'all, enjoy! //

"His eyes are strange."
"How so?"
"They change color when he's angry."
"Tell me more."
"He never smiles."
"Sounds like an angry fellow. What about his eyes changing color?"
"They're the deepest shade of crimson I've ever seen."
"Contacts?"
"No."
"Sounds satanic."
"He's beautiful."

Each day blended with the next in flashes of red. His anger only grew. Grew so much that it consumed his very being. Just a step too far in the wrong direction and he'd snap at anyone, curse their very existence, his words sharper than the daggers that he was sure his family would have felt had he not sacrificed himself. Namjoon made sure to watch him from afar, he wasn't sure of what set him off and most definitely did not want to find out.

Yoongi was stuck.

Stuck in this new and cruel reality.

What he would have considered a good day before, was now completely intolerable. He couldn't feel joy. Not because he was only focused on his fate, but simply because the feeling was taken away from him. His favorite food, places to go, shows, music, none of that made him feel whole like he used to be.

  Upon discovering that nothing would change his foul mood, Yoongi locked himself away in his extremely messy bedroom. He vowed to Namjoon that he would die in that very bed, to which Joon responded with a huff and a slam of the front door as he exited Yoongi's apartment. Yoongi stared up at his ceiling, arms clutching a pillow to his chest.

I wish you didn't have to go but I'm damned for eternity...

He closed his eyes and dove off into his never ending nightmares. 

  Yoongi awoke in the late afternoon, sweat drenched clothes sticking to his body uncomfortably. With a frustrated groan he sat up, throwing his thin blanket to the side, a hand running through his hair. What had his life become? What was he going to do?

He had no clue.

Sweaty hands grabbed ahold of the bedroom doorknob, turning it impatiently as he shuffled over to the bathroom. He let the icy, cold droplets fall onto his skin, small fists gripping the shower handles tightly. His head was lowered, eyes closed, as he stood there for what seemed like an hour, just drenching his bones. Quickly he threw on a plain white t-shirt, ripped skinny jeans, leather jacket and some Jordans before heading out the door.

  The city never sleeps, that's what he was always told. It was true. The sound of shouts and laughter in one alley contrasted with the beeping and music across the way. Yoongi had no idea where he was heading but he continued to walk along, smoke clouds forming around his lips as he breathed out into the harsh winter air. His hands were shoved deep into his jacket pockets when he suddenly heard a loud noise from around the corner. He tilted his head. The only thing on that corner was a small bar that he had been to quite a few times. At this time of night it meant there was probably an outside scuffle. Rubbing his hands together he smirked, maybe it was time to let out some of this aggression. Yoongi let out a low whistle as he rounded the corner, coming to a complete stop when he saw the view before him.