Hiraeth jjk+k.th

II

The streets were buzzing. So was Hoseok's mind.

"Hyung!I thought you were just joking! Anyways, I'll see you tommorow!",Taehyung let out a dry chuckle as he closed the door of the car.

That day, Hoseok had observed that he did not have any of the four qualities of a good night's sleep. It took three hours for him to fall asleep and he kept tossing around. At one stage, he had to wake up and literally drag himself out, to the ever lively streets of Seoul, at 3 am.

Hobi was a dance instructor. He was actually quite well at it now, despite joining it just months back. His charisma as well as talent made the students feel positive and comfortable. His captivating and sunshine equivalent smile can make anyone think that he's got no problems whatsoever. People always love perfectness. And they assumed he was perfect.

Wrong.

His little brother passed away two years back due to suicide. He grimaces thinking about the scene in front of him that day when he returned from his graduation ceremony.

Red spotted his eyesight, his memories were stained.
His brother's pale skin was paler. Hoseok knew his brother loved graffiti art but he never knew it will be to the extent of carving it on his wrist. 

He didn't really feel hurt when he heard the bloodcurdling scream of his mom, or his dad's silent sobs. His baby hero was gone. He felt bad and hurt and all possible negative emotions for just… not noticing how much his hero was fighting against.

Time skip and now it its twenty seventeen where his hero is Taehyung. His creepy yet adorable relativeness to his brother was what made Hobi to be his ray of sunshine. Taehyung was literally his little brother and their relationship would actually look like as if they had once held hands together to go to kindergarten.

"I'm not worried."
Hobi's heart beats rapidly.

"I'm scared." He stops in his tracks and looks at one of the glass windows of a bakery. His eyes moisten and glisten under the streetlight.

Before he could even realise, tears start streaming down his face, and he sprints with no place in mind.
He wanted to listen to his own sobs, preferably with the cold night air ruffling his hair, where he could think all possible ways to destroy himself and this cruel world.
He wanted to go to somewhere, a place where no one would neither come nor leave and tear his heart apart.
A place where he can escape from his pain and agony. Where he can cry and revive all by himself.
Running towards that somewhere was when he realised…
The more he ran, the more he gasped for breath and his knees ached.
As he ran away from it, the pain kept chasing after him too.

"I don't want to have another scar in my heart."

"Nor do I want another void to form and clutch my gut from deep within. "

My baby brother…

It hurts.

I won't run anymore hero.