BTS Imagines

Lost lives

Winter has begun, making every morning the warmest time of day before the temperatures drop, impossibly so as the time passes whilst the darkness seems to linger, sunshine lighting up the barren world for nothing more but a few hours. It is the perfect moment to press the snooze button on the alarm one more time, even though it has gone off twice already, and snuggle up to a beloved as the pitter patter of child's feet head to the parental bedroom.

Instinctively, the body scoots over to the other side of the bed, expecting to find the welcoming arms of the woman who makes life worth living even when the odds are against a fortunate flow. Anticipates unconsciously to place that sweet gentle morning kiss on the top of the head as the embrace is gladly received and she curls into me, burying a sleepy face which does not have a likeness in its beauty even at the crack of dawn in the fabric of the grey sleeping shirt with a V-neck. Awaits the sleepy mumbles that with a bit of effort and straining of hearing translate to a drowsy "good morning" as gradually consciousness is regained and per direct focused on the most precious human standing in the doorway, joining the pair in the sheets to cuddle up with loving parents.

But memory erases all those expectations the moment hands grasp at air and at last land on the thick crisp white duvet dotted with tiny ink-coloured spots, hazy sight perceiving no one is there to greet and slowly yet relentlessly the reason why comes crashing in like a tidal wave.

It was during an evening last month, the streets covered with a packet of freshly fallen snow toned a shade of grey outside of the yellow illuminating circles of the streets lights, painting the icy blanket a shade reminiscent of an egg yolk. The entire day was spent in the office at home working on a new novel, thoughts completely oblivious to the reality outside the door and existence reduced to the four alabaster plaster walls - one entirely concealed by the full bookshelves containing the work of others and those that are self-written - and the macassar floor, a single window enclosed on either side by chocolate milk brown curtains the only link to the world turned towards with ignorance besides the silver MacBook upon the keyboard of which was busily typed to write a couple more chapters of the latest project.

The crying went by unnoticed, the first step towards ruin. Thoughts were too occupied with creating a coherent tale of excellent quality and thus ears were deaf to the muffled lament sounding across the hallway behind another closed door.

The second was ignoring Y/N's pale face that appeared on the threshold and slowly advanced after a knock on the heavy wood of the doorway to draw attention yet finding none, as had been the case for many weeks since seeing the development of the book to completion had the utmost priority.

An idiotic importance that should have shifted upon hearing the meekly spoken words in a trembling voice, a small hand over the bloated stomach. 'I lost the baby.' No reaction, fingers continuing to type with a mind lost in the recent tale. Bare feet padding the floor, closing in on the cluttered with stationary sapale desk behind which a fool of a man carried on penning down fantasies and only looked up from the screen with a scowl due to being interrupted in the creative flow when the left shoulder was shook, speech now dangerously close to cracking and reduced to a whisper. 'Joon, didn't you hear me? I said I lost the baby.'

The statement did not even register before an irritated at being halted during important business reply was given. In hindsight, a pause should have been taken to let the severity of that particular sentence sink in, but at the time I was too caught up in a self-made existence that had to be shared with others. 'I'm kinda busy, Y/N. You know I hate it when I'm disrupted.'

A heavily trembling lower lip, teeth keeping it caged so as not to let the sobs escape, crystal tears flowing from eyes that once regarded this loathsome persona with an astonishing amount of fondness and care over cheeks cupped affectionately multiple times in private and public, caressed them as if they were made of porcelain each time I made love to her, the last time establishing the joyful anticipation of becoming a parent. A step backwards, head shaking in disbelief at the observation of the abomination sitting in the chair where a long-time lover, a sensible person, should sit. 'How can you say that? I thought- I thought you'd care, at least show some emotion instead of being this cold-hearted monster!' Heartbreaking rivers flow over the skin, immediately fulfilling the body with a sense of dread that cages the beast longing for success. However, it that righteous regret dawned too late. 'All you care about is your novel, so much you have neglected our relationship. Have you any idea how many nights I have eaten dinner alone because you're holed up in here? I cannot even remember our last date. How pathetic is that?' A mocking sigh escapes the feeble girl turned halfway to make an exit. 'You know what, there is a silver lining to this. At least our child doesn't have to suffer at the hand of a worthless father. And neither do I have to endure a useless boyfriend.'