FLOWER MAIL | vk ✓

𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒 🌧

you stole the breath from my lungs, baby, & i want it back

🌧
𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒
🌧

Taehyung didn't really know where he was going. He had been walking for at least twenty minutes, and he did not have the energy to uncover the location his feet were dragging him to.

Taehyung knew that there was cement under his feet and clouds in the sky, and Jinwoo's house was at least a mile behind him. He knew that there were tears in his eyes and that the sky was collapsing into him, and he invited the scalding stars and poison rain with open arms. I just want someone to hold me.

Taehyung was approaching a park. Bleeding reds and bright yellows were the main colors of the slides and benches in the little plot of land. The blonde emitted a spluttering cough that clawed and scratched at his throat. He needed water, and the clouds seemed to hear his cry, because they began leaking rain.

Water dripped cautiously from the sky, evoking little stutters of sound from the ground. Taehyung was thankful for the rain, which gathered the tears from his eyes and shrunk into them, dancing as they slipped from his face. He was cold, wet, and just as sad as before, but the clouds were crying a million tears for him, and for that he was thankful.

Taehyung noticed in confusion that no one was outside. No neighbors walking their dogs, no last minute holiday shoppers bustling through the stores, no children slapping rain boots into murky puddles. It was just Taehyung, the rain, and a small playground, and a slip of thunder fell in tune with the boy's cries.

Taehyung found a nice bench to sit on, and he plopped his butt down next to a smudge of soil. There were some flowers growing in little forests by his bench, and they reminded Taehyung of his bouquets. He shot daggers at the lilacs, the daisies, the marigolds, the tulips, the roses, for simply having the audacity to exist. It made him sick.

Taehyung wanted to rip the little miracles out of the ground, wanted to feel the roots fighting to keep their hold on the earth, and then watch in sick delight as they shriveled and wept. But then he breathed out a little, looking up at the sky. The rain was not calm anymore; it was beating down on the flowers, and each drop sent a petal hurtling toward the ground and then bouncing up wearily.

Taehyung didn't need to hate the flowers. The sky was doing it for him.

Taehyung decided that he would have to slip out of his empty state, just for a moment, and think about his predicament. He lived with Jinwoo. Everything Taehyung owned was with Jinwoo.

And Taehyung's eyes widened, and he bit back a little sob as he realized that he had to go back. Taehyung was the one that left, and he would have to feel the shame of walking back into his home, feel the warmth of the fireplace on his skin, and Jinwoo would go up to him, hug his waist, and say he's sorry and that he loves him.

And Taehyung didn't know if he had it in him to resist again. Maybe he would just give in, sleep at the house, and stay mad at Jinwoo for a while, and Jinwoo would wait patiently for Taehyung to come around. And he would, eventually. He was too weak-willed not to.

Taehyung tried to banish the thought from his mind, but it escaped his grasp and ran about his head wildly. You're going back, you have to go back, there is nowhere else to go. The thoughts raced through his head, invading happy memories and turning them sour, throwing his stupid photo albums on the floor and setting fire to the love notes he had received. He knows you need him more than he needs you, but you have to go back.