Spring Day | BTS ✔

28

I watched Taehyung dry his hair off as the room hushed. Namjoon fell back into sleep, but nothing was happening for him to stay awake to see anyways. Besides, he needed his rest. I turned my eyes up to the second oldest.

Yoongi laid still in the armchair that Taehyung, Hoseok, and I sat against on the floor. His breathing was unsteady and strange. He might've been having a nightmare or something. Taehyung eventually tired of his efforts to rid his still sopping wet hair of the rain, mine already dried. How long had he been out in the rain today?

He said he had to walk nearly an hour until he found a taxicab that was empty, and then he got out of it after paying the fair since traffic was too slow only to race to the nearest train station. After he must've ran from the exit platform to the hospital. No wonder he's still soaking wet.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a minute. They were still strained from crying as I ran to the hospital. I opened them a few minutes after, the air conditioner in the room freezing the thin skin of my eyelids.

I looked from face to face in the room.

To my right, Taehyung stared at the tiled floor. His eyes were slightly swollen and red, the water on his face looking too fresh to be rain droplets from his hair. He'd taken his scarf off a long time ago, the thin grey sweater outlining a thin frame underneath. His knees shook slightly as he propped them a few inches away from his chin, his feet flat against the floor in front of him.

To Taehyung's right, Hoseok looked almost dead. His muscles looked slacked as if they, too, wanted nothing more than to sleep. Tears jerked from Jimin's third episode had wiped away any concealer under his eyes, revealing a person much too tired to truly be happy.

His eyes were absent of life, the brown looking more like dusted dirt. Even the happy colors of his green sweatshirt and orange backpack couldn't bring any life to the way he was positioned, legs randomly laying on the floor and arms hanging limply at his side. Even his head hung low as he stared at his sleeve cuff. The only sign of life was how he played with a loose string there.

Up on the armchair across from the three of us, Jin absently stared at the end of Jimin's bed. His face was blank, expressionless, but his eyes threatened to scream out in pain and tears. He was sitting cross-legged in his cotton pink scrubs. He looked tired, too, though his fatigue was physical, not mental and emotional like Hoseok's.

I noticed fading red tic marks on Jin's wrists, as if he had been counting days. There weren't enough to be marking days though, not unless he marked until a month and then went over each mark again when the next started. Judging by the way some marks looked older than others did I assumed that might've been what he'd done. I wanted to say something about it, but now wasn't the time. There was already too much pain.

My eyes found the closed lids on Namjoon's face next. He, again, was fast asleep on the bed beside the armchair Yoongi laid in behind us. He looked sound asleep on the outside, but his fingers twitched from the discomfort of his bruises and healing cuts from the crash. We used to always joke around that Namjoon was the 'middle child' in our once family. Now, he looked more on Jin's level of wariness and mindfulness, far more than the rest of us at least.

I miss you more than I could ever tell you. Because no words can tell you how much my life has hurt without you.

I miss you and I can never show you how much. Because no amount of tears can tell you the pain of going to sleep without knowing where you are or who's earned the love I no longer have the right to give you.

Wait a little bit, just a few more nights so I can say 'I love you, brother' one more time. And if you never want me to even think your name again, I won't. Because at least then, I won't have to fall asleep knowing that I never tried to win back the thing I hold most dear to me.