Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Twenty

My mind was still muddled, my head in throbbing pain. Throughout the pain, though, I could feel someone's hand on the side of my head, their thumb gently moving from side to side against my hair. I felt myself suck in a shallow breath, it sounding hollow in my ears. The place around me was silent, nothing to comfort me except for the hand in my hair.

"Hey, you awake?"

The voice processed in my head for a few seconds, my brain catching on to the tone and words. The more it processed, the more my heart started to speed up. 

I didn't open my eyes. I couldn't even do so. I could feel some sort of form of tears start to build, though. "I'm so sorry," I murmured, my voice coming out hoarse. "I'm so sorry, Tae. I never meant to. I didn't even want to. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Before I could spill anything else out, I felt a hand place itself on mine gently. The fingers curled themselves, coming into a tight grip. "Y/N, it's okay. You're okay now. I promise no one else will hurt you."

I felt a tear slip out from my closed eyes. I begged them to open to see Taehyung's face. The shallow breaths now turning to deeper, more frantic ones. My head started spinning. "I'm just so sorry. I should have fought back. I should have ran. This is all my fault. It's always my fault."

"Why would you ever think that?"

I finally was able to pry my eyelids off of each other, tears coming down in a rush as I did so. Through the blur of tears, I found Taehyung sitting there on the bed's edge, one hand holding onto my hand and the other one on the side of my head. I could see some tears falling down his own cheeks. Bags hung under his eyes, his skin sickly pale. The whites to his eyes were blood shot. My brain was shocked from the scene.

I hadn't seen something like this in years from him.

My eyes kept trailing over him. His bright red hair was a mess, looking like he had just woke up. He wore comfortable pants, but no shirt covered him. It could see the tattoos so clearly across his skin. The darkness consumed his arms and hands, falling onto his shoulders. I could imagine his back, littered with the black ink. The neuron curled along the side of his neck in a mysterious way. It always shocked me to see all the tattoos sprawled across him once more after all these years, it felt like.

"I found you in the far side of the garden last night," he murmured, ignoring my silence. I saw a couple more tears slip down his cheeks. "I . . . I was horrified, I'm not going to lie. I ran to you, but when I tried to get a response from you, you wouldn't answer. Everyone but my father had left the party. My father called the doctor as I helped you as best as I could."

I opened my mouth, trying to talk again, but Taehyung cut me off before I could speak. "I know you never wanted a doctor, but there was so much blood and you weren't responsive, so I had to call a doctor. Please understand that. I couldn't have you die. It would have killed me."

"Tae," I said gently, my body now more relaxed to find him there in comfort, "I understand. I know that you know I don't like the doctor, but I would have done the same if it was you."

"The doctor said you shouldn't work for a bit," he said, his hand pulling away from mine. He wiped his tears away gently and gave a sniff. "Your head has taken too many hits and your body needs to recover. They said you need to keep stress and mobility to a low for now. Getting hurt right now will bring you to going to the doctor's office all over again."

I gave a slight sigh, myself wanting to defend my case and how I needed to work. I understood, though, that I needed to rest. I could barely move my body. "How will I make money? How will I feed myself?"

"You're staying here," he said gently. I could see him stepping around carefully, trying not to have me break out in an argument. "You're not going home for awhile."