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Hoseok couldn't bring himself to leave his room. He couldn't bring himself to even neglect his bed, for that matter.
He felt like he was spiraling down and down, out of control into a black hole of nothing but affliction. In all honesty, he was losing hold over his happiness and identity.
He wanted to at least be content with himself, but even that was improbable at the moment. He wished to encounter joy again, not just remember it and try to recreate the feeling.
Numb.
Hoseok grabs his sketchbook and turns to the very last page, where months ago, he had scrawled two simple numbers in blue ink.
7/6
July 6. That was the day.
He was barely hanging on, finding that it was difficult to even feel. He thought he could go insane.
Was it because he was too happy? Was it because he'd accidentally broken one of Tae's favorite candles? Caught Yoongi singing in the shower?
He wanted it all to end because he couldn't take it anymore. He felt dirty, unwanted, disgusting. He was empty and ... and alone.
He knew he had friends that cared for him, but he couldn't help it... they were not there when the thoughts late at night consumed him. Or in the shower. Or while he walked alone in a park. They were there, but no one was capable of protecting him from his mind. Not even himself.
Whatever happened, Hoseok had made a pact with himself. It was the least he could even do. Imagine how fucking shitty it would be for him to break a promise even when it came to himself?
He didn't know how he would do it, or what method he would use. He just knew it was going to have to happen.
And for some reason... the idea of it didn't terrify him.
It was comical, almost. How low the value of his life seemed to him.
