there's a secret in this place closeness is like a mask-like gimmick
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The treeline speed past, the green and brown blurring into each other as we drove past at an alarming speed. Everything looked dark and shaded all around, the only source of illumination being the headlights of Taehyung's GTR.
He drove in the rash, familiar way I remembered from the first time racing with him, my knuckles white against my grip and his tight-fisted hands gripping the wheel recklessly, the grin on his face as wild and free as a creature of the wind. But this time, his grin was gone, faded into the background like the trees and the road.
The car pulled into a neighbourhood after what seemed like hours, a nondescript, muted place that was as dull as Taehyung was bright. The houses were all the same—gray, squat, lined along both sides with the unfamiliarity of complexes where normal people lived, people who didn't associate with criminals and weren't running from something that had already outrun them.
He pulled the car into the driveway of one of the houses, the same as all the others, into the garage yawning in front of us. It was like going into the mouth of a beast, with its gaping black maw and the certainty of finding something I didn't want to find.
"Come on," He said, his first words since he picked me up from Taeyong's car. I bit my lip, following, but my heart beat in the same uncontrollable way as it had minutes, or hours, or seconds ago, with fear and worry and pain.
The garage's door slid down slowly behind us, soundlessly, cutting off the minimal light from the other houses' parted curtains and night-lights. I blinked hard, blinded momentarily, hesitating on my feet, then Taehyung's hand was at my elbow. Not exactly touching it, but brushing it slightly, guiding, warm as the blood that rushed in his veins.
Though I couldn't see much, I heard the usual creak of a door being pushed open as I tried to balance my senses in the darkness, then I was ushered into a smaller, warmer space, and the door closed behind me.
Thousands of words seemed stuck in my throat, so many thoughts, so many questions, but I was afraid that if I spoke, all that would come out would be a scream.
Taehyung's hands found my arms again, fluttering next to my skin, not making much contact. Every touch seemed weak, lacking his usual strength, and when he finally and reluctantly pulled away, the light switched back on.
It was blinding; I raised my hands over my eyes, squinting against the brightness of it like so many suns. The movement reminded me of when I'd done that in the car, thinking that the windshield was going to break.
"Just a moment," Taehyung spoke, his thready voice breathing right next to my ear. Something was off about the way he said it, like he was in pain and the sleeper hadn't started to take effect.
