Bully | Taekook

2

after getting his clothes practically ruined by jungkook, taehyung decided to go to the gas station so that he could change. it wasn't exactly an ideal situation, but he didn't really have another option at the moment.

he arrived pretty quickly and immediately headed for the restroom. he got a few odd looks due to his ruined clothing, but he just kept walking and did his best not to make eye contact.

he got to the one-stall restroom, hurriedly pushed the door shut, and almost fell back against it as soon as it closed. he let his head rest against the door and just sighed to himself, trying to process everything that had happened throughout the last few hours.

"what a great first day back," taehyung thought to himself, before sitting up and beginning to remove his shirt.

he stripped the top from his body, his chest now bare and cold. he looked down at the soiled shirt in his hands and frowned.

he really liked that shirt. he always had. but he figured the now bright red stains that covered the front might make it a bit tough to salvage. it was doubtful that even a washing machine could fix that.

so with another sigh, he tossed the shirt into the bathroom trash can and just stood there for a moment. he was still, just staring at himself in the mirror.

he let one of his hands trace over his face, down his collarbone, then down his arms, feeling the cuts in his skin.

"worthless," taehyung muttered to himself.

he parted away from the moment, and opened up the front pocket of his backpack. he pulled out his little pocketknife and flipped open the blade, staring at it for a moment. it was sharp, a decent size, almost sparkling in the light.

and taehyung couldn't help but wish he was stronger.

he couldn't help but wish that he was better than this, but apparently he wasn't.

he flipped his arm over subtly, glancing at his wrist that was mostly bare from cuts. he tended to go for the upper parts of his arm that were easier to hide, but at the moment— for some reason— he didn't seem to care.

he held the knife up to his wrist and sliced his skin without even thinking.

and it hurt.

of course it did, but he didn't care.

he stared at the new gash on his arm that was starting to bleed and he couldn't help but wonder what it was about doing this that was so gratifying.

it was some sort of coping technique, he knew that much. while it was painful.., it still felt good... in some weird way. it helped him deal with his pain... helped him relieve the negative thoughts that were always swarming his brain.

it reminded him he was alive.., in some sick way and he didn't know of anything else that could give him that same feeling.

but— with that being said— as he stared down at the new wound he had inflicted on himself, he realized that the great feeling really didn't last long. he got— maybe a couple of seconds of relief at best, before the negative thoughts came flooding back. almost as soon as the blade would leave his skin, the feelings of shame and guilt would return.

taehyung had serious, lasting problems, and cutting was just a temporary fix.

it was a terribly vicious cycle that taehyung just couldn't seem to break.

taehyung was still staring at the wound, just thinking everything through, until he heard a drop of blood hit the floor, which broke him from his thoughts.