Fix you | a BTS fanfiction

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The next day, Taehyung's head was fogged over, full of the dreaded feeling of awful emptiness. He felt absolutely nothing, except for the agonizing pain and sadness towards the events of last night. The memories played over and over in his mind, the visions appearing behind his closed eyes in a menace. The closeness of Jungkook, the way he grabbed his chin, the feeling of his body pressed against Taehyung's, the feeling that he was about to kiss him...

And he didn't.

He groaned and opened his eyes, feeling absolutely nothing. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel angry, he didn't feel sad, he felt...emotionless. He felt as if nothing was happening inside of his body, which in itself was a huge weight that dragged Taehyung down. He could barely even breathe, he felt like he was being suffocated, and at the same time, being dragged underwater by some unknown force.

Depression.

He hated these days, when he could feel nothing but emptiness. He had no reactions or feelings to anything or one around him, and it was painful to him deep inside, but his bluntness and uncontrollable hollowness took over. But at that moment, he couldn't feel anything. Nothing, but the feeling of being an empty tortoise shell, isolating himself from feelings with his hard shell.

He sat up and swung his feet off the bed; they swung in the air, close to the ground but not quite there. He felt like he was in a daze, his eyes steadily watching a pair of black socks sprawled on the floor, yet his mind watched further than that, into a pit of nothing. Darkness. He couldn't daydream, he couldn't think. 

Like a living corpse, he lifted his lifeless body off the bed, blinking slowly and staggering on one foot to the other clumsily. His head felt groggy and out of it, and his whole body felt like a sinking boat. e stood for a moment, confused and still fazed, as if he were being softly paralysed by nothing. 

After a while, he shook himself out of his trance and slowly started to change his clothes. 

When he finished, he stood in front of the mirror and stared at himself, at the black jumper, the black jeans, the black shoes and black beanie; he was the living definition of darkness. It matched his personality, his emotions. Dark, black, empty.

His lips wobbled, and he forced himself to look away from the dastardly reflection. He slowly stumbled out of his room, and into the kitchen. Jungkook stood, his back facing him, as he filled up a glass of crisp water. 

Watching him just reminded Taehyung of the events of last night, in which made his blood run terribly cold and angry. But he was in his lowest moods to even acknowledge the presence of anger that had been bestowed upon him. 

Jungkook felt the presence of the older male behind him, and stole a glance over his shoulder, having the image of Taehyung leaning against the door frame behind his eyes.

"Good morning Tae," Jungkook said in a sing-song voice, and Taehyung grunted in response. Jungkook instantly received a bad vibe from his response, and quickly downed his drink in a matter of seconds before turning around.