𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐍

hoseok

You stare out at the rain, wincing at the heaviness of it. There is an intense anxiety to the rain, as if between the tumbling cloud and the earth, it is fearful of never reaching its destination. The sound alone is enough to make you pace the dusty boards, arms folded across a chest that rises and falls more abruptly than it should. The sound of this rain, so soothing to some, is enough to drown out every other noise.

The clock reads nine, meaning Hoseok has just finished his practice for today. God forbid he get stuck in this weather. He'd be sick within a few hours.

You hesitate between calling him or just waiting. He could be driving and you wouldn't want to distract him in any way. Your phone sits in front of you, blank and just waiting to be brought to life by a text from Hoseok.

Instead, there's a sharp knock at the door.

You jog to open it, curious about who could be on the other side. Your heart breaks at the sight.

Rain and tears mingle on his face, salty tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. Only the pinkness of his eyes give any clue to his sadness and in this city who will look closely enough to tell.

There is a heaviness to his woollen coat that was absent when he left this morning, you realise as you hurriedly take it off him.

"Hobi, what's wrong?" You cup his cheeks, staring right into his defeated orbs. It doesn't take him long to break down again, clawing at your back as you hold him against your chest. There's something so deep about his sobs that you find yourself crying too.

He eventually calms down, sniffling against your now damp shirt. He stares blankly at the wall as you help him stand and lead him to his room.

"Change," you gently command. He nods, closing the door as you leave in search of a towel.

A few minutes later, he returns, his nose and lips red. Cooing, you rush him to the couch, making him sit on the floor as you sit above to the dry his hair. A steaming cup of tea sits on the table in front of him, his hand eagerly reaching out for it.

"Will you tell me what happened?" You ask, running the towel through his hair soothingly. He hums in appreciation, setting the cup to the side.

"I will but in a bit."

With a stiff nod, you continue drying his hair. The smile never leaves his face, even when his hair is a puffy mess on his head and you're sitting in front of him.

"I was feeling worthless," he mutters, sipping from his cup slowly. You don't hesitate in grabbing his hand, smiling supportively at him.

"I got yelled at, told off and ridiculed. I couldn't think clearly and didn't even bother trying to drive. All I wanted was to get back here as soon as possible. So I ran. Seemed like a good idea at the ti-"

You stop him with a kiss, the awkward position hurting your back but it's worth it if he knows what you're trying to show him. Judging by the loving look in his eyes when you pull away, it was worth it.

"You aren't worthless. We all have bad days that get us down but that makes the good days seem more special. Just know that I believe in you and love you so much."

He brings you in for a cuddle, burying his face into your neck. "That's all I needed to hear."