Fate // TaeGi

~one~

I was too lazy to post warnings and all that fun stuff so if something comes up I'll warn you.

Enjoy the book. ~danny

Routines were never a thing Taehyung enjoyed, but it was something he learned to work with. Even at a young age where he was merely a child he managed and organized his day out just so he can live on with his day and try to not have as many medical complications as possible. Some days he was lucky, some days he wasn’t. He learned to cope though because he’s been dealing with his issues since he could remember it at such a young age.

Taehyung was born with cystic fibrosis and ever since he was only a few days old his parents had to do whatever they could to get their little one through life. They went through a lot, going through all the ups and downs. There were even times they thought their little one wasn’t going to make it, but somehow, at age 23 he was still going. He was also doing better than anyone had ever thought, and of course, there was only one flaw to this whole plan.

He had also been recently diagnosed with lung cancer.

So due to that unfortunate news, Taehyung added on more medication to his countless supply already. All his life he dealt with medicine and the surprisingly lightweight but awkward to drag around oxygen tank he has considered multiple times on naming. That thought, of course, was pushed aside as he thought it would be quite the silly thought.

Despite the whole medications and all the diagnoses, Taehyung was pretty independent. He had his own apartment that he has managed to invest in with selling art pieces and having some help from his parents but another government organization that helps with people like Taehyung who can’t work. So his apartment wasn’t anything extravaganza, but he was glad he got opportunities to live his life, what he had of it at least.

Taehyung currently kept his eyes staring at the canvas in front of him as his brush ran across the canvas. A various amount of colors were already added as he develops a painting. This specific painting develops a kind of night time kind of vibe. Acrylic paints of purples and dark blues are blended easily with each other on the not too large canvas. He had music playing softly in the background making him focused enough.

As he finished his part of the painting he looked to the time and wanted to groan. It was almost time for his chemo treatment that would probably get nothing done. He looked to the painting and let out a deep breath before he settled his paintbrush in a cup and determined to continue on his work later. He got the base done for now but was gonna finish the foreground details when he got back. The more he was getting ready for the treatment the more he wanted to not go.

He’s been on this treatment for almost a year now and his cancer just takes forever to stay away. He keeps being convinced to keep going despite it all going nowhere. He hated it, he hated going through this awful treatment and dealing with nothing but emotions and nothing but physical draining from his body. He stared at the clock as he slipped on his shoes and clenched his jaw.

This was the day.

He would just quit today.

He would just let it slowly kill him.

He didn’t care anymore and he planned on not telling his parents or anyone else. Sure everyone did care about him but he couldn’t take it. He was tired of it all, he was tired of all the stress and the exhaustion and the emotions. He just needed a feeling of freedom before things got worse. He managed to not cry thinking of this as he didn’t care anymore, he hasn’t cared when nothing has been getting fixed for months now. He slips a hat on and a mask that goes over his oxygen nubs that are always on his face and he prepares everything before he leaves his apartment.