Our Apartment In Seoul || Jikook

사십육[46]

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My heartbeat pumped in my ears, white light burned through my closed eye lids.

Is this what hell feels like?

My own weak breath was rushing in my ears, the sound of shoe soles slithering over the fumigated ground percolated my mind only faintly, as if my head was wrapped in blankets.

Was hell really this clichéd?

I didn't know how long I'd been here. Tow hours? Three hours? Four hours? It was all a rush of time.

If this is hell then fate is the devil.

But was it really fate that brought Jimin here? Wasn't it just myself who is too dumb to hold what he wants to protect? Maybe I was Jimin's devil...

Thoughts like this were rushing through my mind while I bit my fingernails, being hypnotized by the white wall across me, people crossing my view every now and then.

I wanted to touch Jimin's warm cheek so badly, to run down my fingers the soft skin along his jaw, his warm coffee eyes looking at me lively and unhurt. It was my biggest wish in this moment.

But everything that looked back at me was the white, numb wall in front of me.

Doesn't hospitals exist to make you feel good? It only made me feel sick.

I took a deep and shaky breath and leaned back on the chair, my mind focusing on something other again, that I only noticed the person near me as they were grabbing me by my shoulders.

I flinched for a second, a faint gasp escaped my lips before I noticed that it was only Hoseok who held me by my shoulders.

O-oh Hyung. I muttered out and looked at him with big eyes.

I got your text, Jungkook. What's wrong? Where's Jimin? He asked and looked at me in confusion, his eyes filled with concern.

I could nearly see the questions burning on his tongue and the concern straining his facial muscles, but he tried to hold it back and was obviously eager to show an unreadable expression.

How could I tell him what happened? How could I tell him that I messed up again? That I was still the horrible person I didn't want to be.

I broke the eye contact and looked down at my intertwined hands, pressing my lips together. How could I tell him that I was a devil?

Hoseok seated himself quietly next to me and kept silent. I could only feel his worried and pleading gaze poking me from the side. And in the moment he laid his hand on my shoulder the words exploded just like a fountain out of my mouth, spilling over my lips.

I'm so sorry, Hyung! I didn't want this to happen! I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just messed up again. I shouted out, nearly crying.

Shh, Jungkook, just tell me what happened. Hoseok assured calmly but with a subliminal pressure in his voice and a silent pleading in his eyes.

Even if I was sure - no, convinced - that he would hate me I fixed the words together and tried to bring them out, my chest getting ten times heavier and corded up as I did so.

I didn't even know if Hoseok decoded the scratchy words that came out of my dry throat. But he seemed to understand my stuttering anyway.

I could see it in the way all of the colors left his face, his eyes widened, revealing the shock beneath them.