finding jupiter ° taekook

six

CHAPTER SIX

The world doesn't end with a bang, but with words.

In my state of a scruffy hangover, the clouds hanging over my head, my eyes open to Yoongi hitting me over the head with a pillow. Him doing so knocks my brain across the room.

"Hey, wake up ass wipe." His voice brings me to my foggy senses and I sit up, now eye-to-eye with my roommate. He sits besides me, gazing at me with crucifying eyes. I realize I lay on the floor, a dark coat slumped around me, and I'm wearing the clothes from the night before. "Where were you last night?"

"Out with Taehyung, why?" My body, veiled in gasoline, is suddenly sparked on fire. 

Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung. 

His name plays a music box tune in my head, my lips tingling electric at the thought of his lips on mine. I realize I'm floating way too far into space, and am yanked down by the string Yoongi has tied to me.

"Hoseok's friend?" 

I'm touching my lips, squeezing my bottom lip between my thumb and pointer finger. Surely it wasn't a dream right? I nod. 

Yoongi's face, one made of pale porcelain, always remaining static, his voice so monotone, it touches the ground, shifts into a hazy expression I can't interpret. His lips are drawn to the side, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"I don't like that look." I point, all the energy drains from my body when doing so. Every word is dead weight as it leaves my tongue. "What is it?"

He probably snorts cocaine through his left nostril. Or wait no, he's a flunk. Or in reality, he's not even a college student and is thirty-six and works at an accounting firm. The possibilities seem to be endless when it comes to a boy like Taehyung, who collects burnt up rocks.

"Nothing." But his face doesn't say nothing. Nothing is a seamless word, but carries all of the weight of gravity. Nothing is whispered between lovers when there's a gaping hole inside one of their chests. Nothing is murmured by children when there's an expensive vase in the corner of the room, split in half. This is obviously something.

"So," the air shifts along with Yoongi's voice, which is equivalent to ringing cathedral bells in my head. "You obviously don't seem sedate, what did you guys do?"

I stay mum. "Nothing." He stands, reaches out his hand and pulls me up. The wall and the floor switch places. "Do we have medicine anywhere?"

°

The sky drips grey as I walk around campus with Yoongi, our coats glued tight around around our bodies. He mumbles about the weather and whatever he'll be doing with Hoseok later in the day while my dead weight brain drifts. 

I spot a red hat, one too familiar not to be Taehyung's. He sits on a bench, elbows on his knees, gazing at his phone. My heart slams against my ribcage a continuous beat and I want to sprint up to him. I swallow. Hard. The thought of kissing him making itself prominent in my brain again.

There's a figure that walks up to him. It's not the boy with the pink hair, instead this one's matches the color of the rocks Taehyung collects. He stands from the bench, I can sense his honey smile from here as he hugs the other.

I bend over the red bricked paveway and retch.

"Dude!" I hear Yoongi exclaim next to me. He slaps the back of my shoulders as I continue puking my guts out, until my eyes have watered and become bloodshot. "Let's go back." I ruefully nod.

°

I lay on Yoongi's bed, one surprisingly warmer than mine. He sits a few feet away, fingers typing on his computer, the constant ticking sound filling the thick air in the room. Nothing. Nothing. My body almost sinks down into the mattress.

"You like Taehyung?" I hear my roommate ask from his chair. His expression is set on the screen, eyebrows knitted close together, his lips pursed. He leans closer to the screen, backs away and blinks his eyes to me.

I hum. I do. And that's alright. Right? All the Renaissance artists were gay. Leonardo Da Vinci was, along with Michelangelo. I could join them.

"This is unconfirmed but..." He takes his upper lip between his teeth, letting it go before speaking, "I don't know, Hoseok says he jumps around a lot."

"We all do. We can't fly after all."

"No. H-he just..." Yoongi falls silent, "just be careful."

The air becomes Jell-O. It's so thick, I'm static, drowning in all of it. Blinking becomes heavy, I'm immersed in the light coming from the burning lamp, sitting on Yoongi's desk.

I'm​ sinking.

All. The. Way. Down.

—

w

hat the fu k is this chapter u may ask????? welllllll I have no clue

but a few things y'all
there's this cUTE BOI I JUST AH HES SO
LIKE HES JUST GALACTIC,, HES AN ALIEN I SWEAR TO U BUT HES THR CUTEST ALIEN IVE SEEN AND I WANNA BE HIS FRIEND ILL KEEP Y'ALL POSTED
alSo I wanna make those q&a things that everyone does where y'all ask me or the characters questions but rip me and this book are way too irrelevant for that (maybe someday thooo ;-))
also this was sorta of a filler/just a lil somethin somethin from my brain next chapter will hopefully be better n longer

goodBYE UR BEAUTIFUL N U CAN DO ANYTHIN U THINK U CAN'T I BELIEVE IN U U LIL CUTE SPROUT ° rion.