VERTIGO HEART | SOPE ✓

05 | VERTIGO HEART

Yoongi remembered when he felt his blood run cold, and recalled how his heart skipped a beat. He remembered the fear.

Despite the potential acquaintance of death, he was more afraid of the fact that he may never have the chance to see Hoseok's handsome face again. He could never forget the pain—the iron fist that the universe always happened to strike into his emaciated abdomen.

He was huddled and engulfed within his threadbare blankets and oscillated in and out of sleep throughout the day. However, despite the fact that he had eaten a micro sandwich earlier, his stomach protested his hunger with each and every elegant pirouette.

With every ounce of strength within him, he dragged his heft self, an achy coughing mess, to the nearest food joint and used the money he had saved on coffee for a dollar cheeseburger, some water, and a few minutes out of the cold. He grabbed a handful of napkins for his red, runny nose and headed back out into the unwelcoming blizzard.

Part of him wanted to return to the coffee shop, but there was no way that Miyeon was still there. The sky was already draped with warm stars and there was no point in staying out in the harsh gusty weather just for another cup of steaming hot caffeine.

Unfortunately, there was no one else to blame—It was his own fault. He was far too lost in the manifesting self destruction that branded holes into his pupils, so lost he overlooked the person who trailed behind him. Yoongi should have paid attention, but he did not and he paid the price.

There were two brawny men, both much larger than Yoongi, and far more pungent. Yoongi had no clue why he even dared to lay a finger on them, desperation perhaps, but even as he tried to wrestle his blanket away from the disgusting men, he knew very well that it was hopeless for him.

The tall brawny men smashed him into the wall crudely. Yoongi bleated his agony. His head collided with the unforgiving surface, before his body dropped and became a useless heap of hobo on the ground. There was nothing but pain, strong heels against feeble bones and sharp fists against soft flesh.

A ragged line of agony flourished from his flaccid shoulder when his coat was wrenched away without care, but his heart did not crumble until the mittens that Hoseok had offered him were pulled from his grasp, and left his pale, skeletal hands cold. His attempts to retrieve them were only met with multiple, continuous, assaults.

Everything hurt, but when Yoongi heard the men jest about holding him hostage, he knew he had to flee.

His protection from the bitter cold was purloin, but even death would be a more welcoming friend than what those two had in store for his broken body. He does not know how he found the strength, really he did not, but the adrenaline that coursed through his veins pushed him wordlessly to his aching feet and he took off in sprint.

He ran as fast and as far as he could until he collapsed in the winter snow. His charred lungs surged in protest, a coughing fit caused his wounded ribs to pulse as a second heart.

As if predicted, he knew that he was finally on the verge of death. He fought his way to his blemished knees again and spotted the shelter of a bus stop only a few meters away. He made his way to the bench and heaved himself into an upright, sitting position. He caught sight of the scattered red trail he had left behind in the snow and for some reason, he laughed.

Well, he laughed before a fit of coughs sabotaged him to the point where he was unable to breathe. He knew he would eventually be kissed by the frozen serpent before it lay him down to sleep in some unknown place, at least he would be found. He would not rot away in some abandoned building without anyone being the wiser.

The coppery taste of putrid blood dined upon his taste buds as an eerie smile crept to his bloody lips. With that, he allowed the darkness to guide him to their kingdom.