He heard you crying, behind the white wood door. He stood outside confused and conflicted. What shall he do? What should he feel?
You fell against the door, cradling into yourself, crying in your knee's. You heart clenched. It crushed and so did you.
Did you deserve to cry? Should he comfort you? Is he misunderstanding you?
He pondered, his hand reluctantly pulling back and forth between the nob.
"Why...." you whispered in a sob.
He had heard you. He could imagine your state from behind the door. Though the sound of your weeps muffled, he could imagine you. Sitting there, hugging yourself tightly, as your were the only one you had left, crying harshly into yourself.
He felt even more guilt. But he couldn't open the door. He couldn't comfort you. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Yet he know no idea why.
He left the room, for he couldn't do anything for you. His guilt lingering.
To be continued........
YOU ARE READING
Torn (btsxreader)
RomantikA hand gripped your arm. "Where are you going angel face" He asked his sweet voice finding your ears again. Though it sweet it was uttered in displease. "Home" you said blunt, ripping you arm from his grasp. "You'll never get away from us" he laug...
