starboy. kth x myg / taegi

safe

taehyung was hurt, yoongi realized.

the bruises on his arms screamed it, the cuts on his wrists shouted it, and his crying only whispered, but it hit harder, like a million pounds of invisible cement covering and suffocating yoongi's breaths.

and taehyung was afraid of going home.

"i don't want to go home yet."

"and why is that?"

taehyung paused for a second, and in that moment, a second felt like an infinity.

"i don't know."

"i don't want to pry, starboy, but where did those bruises come from?"

taehyung hesitated, pulling up a sleeve and glancing down at his arm, wrapped up in blues and purples.

yoongi had expected a sad smile, a devastated expression, maybe even tears upon seeing his own marred skin and speaking about his fears and problems. but much to yoongi's surprise, he scoffed.

"my mom."

"your mom?"

"she's a crazy old drunk," taehyung muttered. "and then she hits me and locks me in my room for days for drinking a bit."

"hypocritical."

yoongi tried to sound nonchalant, as if he was joking.

taehyung shrugged, a sad, bitter smile gracing his chapped lips. he leaned forwards on his elbows, pulling his sleeve back down to cover up the reds and blues.

"she's starved me before as punishment for bad grades," taehyung said. "when i was in middle school. and i got bad grades a lot."

"a lot, huh?"

"i don't care much for my future," he said. "my mother cared an awful lot as a kid, and look at where she is now. divorced, prostituting herself for rent, and drinking her life away."

"i see," yoongi replied. "i didn't care much for grades either, and i guess i'm getting by fine. low paying jobs, but enough."

"exactly."

"do you have a dream?"

"i dream sometimes when i sleep at night."

"no, a dream."

and the emphasis on the word was enough for taehyung to understand. he smiled, rubbing his left wrist.

"i want to sing, yoongi."

"starboy sings?"

"i'm terrible at it, but it's fun," taehyung said. "carefree. i can do whatever i want with my voice, and i've wanted control over my life for so long, but with singing, control feels too demanding. i like the loose strings."

"the stars are lighting up again."

and they were: breathing, shining, living, particles flying in and out with ferocity and determination.

"are they?"

"i suppose they light up when you sing, then."

"maybe."

yoongi moved closer to taehyung, running his skinny fingers through the younger boy's hair.

his hair was thin, visibly so now that yoongi thought about it.

"do you want to stay here another night?" yoongi asked. "i can give you a decent few meals."

"wouldn't mind it, actually," taehyung replied. "but i don't want to be a bother."