BTS - G̴̼͑̒L̶͙͗̒̚I̷͙̭̋̍̉T̴̢̳͖̐͝C̷̺̱̏̋͠Ḥ̴͖͑̽E̶͇̰̊̒̃D̴̲̼̉̆͝ #WATTY'S2019

9

My heart feels weak like an elastic band with no stretch.

-

Warning: Gore, blood, might leave tantalizing images in your brain

—x—

"I'm tired." Taehyung complains, his strides becoming lazy and over dramatic. "Can we keep walking in the morning?"

"I agree. There's a park right there. How about we rest until the sun's out?" Jungkook insists.

"Ok fine, we'll go by 10 a.m." Hoseok agrees, the group proceeding to walk to a bench by a tree in the park.

-~|~-

The sun peaks through the dark green silk curtain's of Namjoon's room, awakening Seokjin from his not so peaceful slumber.

The pink haired man had dreamt of a cat, it's lifeless body laying in a open field of snowy grasses. It's torso is cut open vertically, seeping out with messy blood and organs melting into the snow beneath it.

A large bloodied kitchen knife stands still in the middle of the dead animal's stomach, it's fur ripped in cracked strands covered with it's revealed organs, filled with red liquid.

That was the whole dream. He was looking over a brutally murdered calico cat for hours on end.

So you can't blame him when he lays awake in Namjoon's bed, heavy breathing and tear filled eyes.

"N-Namjoon-ah?" Jin whispers, his breathing not calming down which sends him into panic mode.

His whole body is shaking, and it feels as if his internal organs are freezing. Voices furiously shout in his head, echoing through his mind as he watches the room morph until it isn't recognizable anymore.

It's like a million people screaming at him, lashing mindless words at him with such aggression it pierces him over and over again.

You killed him! It's your fault they kicked you!

If you haven't killed him they wouldn't have tried killing you all those times.

We're going to get you~ you'll be caught for your crimes~

You can't run away from what you've done!

You're a filthy criminal!

Jin sobs into the pillow below him, mentally yelling at the voices to stop. His whole body is freezing.

Then suddenly, he feels nothing.

It just stops. The room goes back to normal, the yelling ends, and all that's left is Seokjin's warmth and tears for himself.

"You woke me up." Namjoon says in a groggy whisper from behind the pink haired man, carefully shaking his shoulder.

"S-sorry. Panic attack." Seokjin replies, his eyes darting around the room as he watches every small movement. "I just want to go see my sister. I miss her."

Namjoon decides to let the topic slip. "I can get Yoongi to drive you. I don't drive."

"Ok." Jin mumbles, letting a few seconds pass.

"When I was younger." Seokjin suddenly starts, Namjoon's ears tuning in. "She taught me to play guitar. She'd play it for me, and I'd feel calm. Then I'd try, and it felt so nice to be in control of something that beautiful, when I wasn't in control of my life."

Namjoon was now completely awake, listening to each and every word.

"I'm always being chased, for a murder i don't even remember committing, ever since I was eight years old. I'll always hear a voice of an old man, torturing me. The shadows, movements, never go away." Jin continues, turning around under the covers to face Namjoon, who's empty eyes glisten in the morning light. "I never had any friends. That's why I trusted you so quickly. The only friend I ever had was my sister, and that thrift store guitar."

"I understand why you want to go back to her." Namjoon says, pushing Jin's bangs from his honey eyes. "She's your only friend, you need that."

"You're my friend too." Jin replies, eyebrows shifting downwards as he places his thumb and forefinger on Namjoon's chin, like he did not too long ago.

"I am?"

Seokjin nods, a confirming pout on his lips as he tries to focus on the younger's eyes.

"You are."

"That's good I guess."

Seokjin smiles, slipping his shaking fingertips off the silver haired man's chin. "Yeah."

"Wanna get ready to go?" Namjoon asks, watching every direction that the older's eyes slip to, the man obviously unsettled which makes him feel something.

"In a minute." Seokjin replies, slipping his sweater covered arms around the younger's waist as he stuffs his face into the crook of his neck.

Namjoon can feel every small shiver and shake that Jin lets off. He can now feel how broken the older is, all the voices constantly screaming in his head the opposite of what he has: nothing.

Namjoon's thoughts are deep, yet controlled. Seokjin's are shallow, yet violent.

-+-+-+-

Downstairs, Yoongi is laying on the couch. Greasy lilac hair splayed across his forehead. He is simply starting at a photograph in his hand, dried tears visible on his pale cheeks.

"Why did I have to fall so hard for you back then.." The man mumbles, staring at the Polaroid in front of him. "Where did you go?"

"I remember sometimes when you'd talk about her. How she was a lovely person that helped you through everything." Yoongi sighs, feeling tears pool up in his eyes. "You said she went to our school, yet I never saw her. It's like she was a fragment of your imagination, keeping me from telling you."

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture, placing it against his chest as he feels warm tears falling down his porcelain face, the morning sun gleaming through the window. Of course, he's too trapped in his mind to see the beautiful things in life. The small things, the simple things.

Back when he was younger, he always looked at the little things. He found it so funny when a license plate spelled out a word, or cotton candy came in a different colour from pink or blue.

When he met someone new, and liked them, he'd discover every little habit they had.

Like how their eyes would crinkle up into crescents when they smile, the way they'd cover their face when embarrassed, throw their head back when they laugh. Rely on someone's shoulder to not fall when laughing so hard over something so insanely stupid.

Yoongi finds himself with a sad smile on his face, not remembering where everything went wrong. He just feels, fine.

"Come back to me, I promise, I'll stick by you this time."

He sniffles slightly, dry lips parting open.

"I miss you, Jiminie."

-~-
A/N

Sad. I'm sad.