Hungry ➵ Taekook -DISCONTINUED-

1

Taehyung hears the scale creak when he steps onto it. Seconds later, the number shows up in big, bold letters, beaming at him almost mockingly.

115 lbs.

Too fucking much.

He walks over to the mirror, twisting and turning, pinching at the fat on his stomach. His thighs are huge, monstrous even. They dingle disgustingly, touching each other when he stands with his feet together. The double chin can be seen when he opens his mouth. His whole body is fat. Even his arms are flabby, covered in faded scars from the elbow to the wrist.

Disgusting. I'm disgusting.

The smell of newly baked bread hits him like a wave once he enters the kitchen. He ignores the way his stomach growls for food. His mother greets him with a cheerful smile,

"Good morning," she says, setting the table.

Taehyung mumbles an answer and continues to the door. She calls after him,

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"I'm feeling a little ill." Lie.

"Oh, okay. But won't you at least bring some of the lunch I made for you?" Her voice is so hopeful, it breaks Taehyung's heart to turn her down once again,

"I'll buy food at school." Another lie.

The disappointment is clear in her voice when she wishes him a nice day.

He has to bite his tongue not to scream out in frustration.

With a sigh, he walks towards the school, the damn cold freezing him to the core of his soul.

He wants nothing more than to lie down in his bed again. To sleep until the dizziness leaves him and wake up even lighter. He wants to rest, to get a break from his body and his thoughts and this world.

But no. He can rest when he's dead.

He can rest when he's perfect.