Purple Is Just A Color|| vkook

37.5~ Empty

Taehyung POV

He said it back.
He really said it back to me and then left.

I have to try again, no matter what.
It can’t be over like this, at least not the way we ended it the last time we met up here… I need to apologize and tell him I am sorry… after that he can… can stop talking to me but he has to listen to me first… 
I sneak out on my familiar path and basically rush to the Shrieking shack, not even being very careful, not bothering to worry if somebody can see me out of one of the many windows while I cross the grounds and disappear in the tunnel.
But he is not there.
Just like he wasn’t there last time I checked.
Or the time before that.
I sigh heavily and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling while the hours drag by and I wait for something to happen… for him to come here because he is supposed to.
After all these weeks, we had the perfect times, had found the best days to see each other and right now is one of them but… I remain alone until I have to go back to the school, sitting alone at the Slytherin table pushing the food forth and back on my plate without really eating much in the end.
I don’t feel like eating, I really am not hungry at all.
Instead, I want to crawl into my bed and hide under my covers until my chest stops hurting and I can forget about everything, because having the last time I saw Jungkook play in my head over and over again is like torture.
But I really don’t deserve anything else… I was being stupid and maybe a little bit scared but I regret all of the things I had said because I didn’t think about them or even mean all of them… and I didn’t want to say ‘I love you’ while screaming at Jungkook.
All to protect Purple and I’s friendship… although I am not sure if there is a friendship left after everything we had said to each other and this messy tangle of lies pulled taut around me and is daring to strangle me, cutting me off from everyone I love.
I sigh and get up from the table though everyone else is still eating, but I leave my full plate behind and walk along the walls of the room so as to not pull any attention to me.
It feels as if nobody is even noticing me but when I glance at the Ravenclaw table I can see Purple following me with her eyes before quickly turning to Fred, who is sitting next to her, and talking to him.
I almost laugh to myself about how ironic this is.
Just about eight months ago I walked into this hall, gladly bathing in the spotlight of everyone’s gazes, accompanied by hushed whispering and gossip starting to spread like a wildfire amongst the students.
I had enjoyed the attention and had not bothered the disdainful looks I had gotten from teachers because the attitude I had carried myself with was apparently not something they approved of at this school.
But that hadn’t stopped me from being lazy, from smoking and from skipping classes because… why would I bother if nobody else did, anyway.

I had been forced to leave my only friend far behind and had been given a plane ticket to a school half a globe away from my home country, even more alone than I had been before.
Only a day later, I met Purple for the first time and her attitude caught my interest and I started to tease her, to press all of her buttons without realizing I started to cherish her habits at the same time, her punches to my arms and her sarcastic comments, until it was too late and I got so emotionally invested in the tiny person so full with love that is Purple.
I can feel tears stinging in my eyes and I sniff harshly and hurry down the stairs so I can maybe enjoy the silence in the common room for a while before everyone starts coming back and will cluster around the room, making noise and being content or even complaining about trivial things like a teacher or homework while I am sitting in between the shards of the world I had built myself over the last months, without an idea of how to find a way out of this.
I slump down in one of the big, plush seats and stare out into the water, zoning out and letting my mind wander around, not finding the strength anymore to push away the memories of the twins and me that are pushing through the dull layers of my mind and when I feel the first tears rolling down my cheeks I do nothing to stop them.
My heart and whole body are aching because I feel as alone as I never have before.
Even lonelier than when I first got to school and nobody talked to me.
Even lonelier than when I had to leave Jimin behind and was left to write to him and text him.
Because I had overcome all those hurdles and more, growing to be the person I was when I came here in September.
But then Purple found me and forced me to care, made me open up and talk about whatever was on my mind. She never judged, she just gave me that soft smile with her small hand playing with my fingers while she listened to me… and she healed those wounds, helped me become a better person, one that is capable of loving and giving back and accepting themselves and without noticing it… I was good for her, made her slow down and relax and work on her insecurities rather than pushing them away or obsessing over them.
We lifted each other up and the strength of our friendship was something I had never experienced before and I cherished it so dearly.
Until I destroyed it, until I broke her with the darkness that has always followed me around in my entire life like a grey thunderstorm sucking all the life in from around it just to whirl it around and then throw it away, broken and damaged.
I pull my knees into my chest with a pathetic whimper while the memories of my former best friend are overlaid by images of her twin brother flashing by, reminding me of winter, and christmas, and his gentle touches, his sweet kisses and his beautiful smile that made all my worries go away.
That made me happy.
That made me fall in love with him.
And all the countless times after that when we had seen each other, had spent hours just laying close to one another and talking for hours on end, when we had loved each other, had given ourselves to the other so entirely that I was so scared of losing myself in him until I realized that he was what I wanted.
What I needed.
What I still need but can’t have because I am a horrible person that said horrible things, devastating and destructive things.
The fact that I know that Purple would pound her fist against my chest for such thoughts only makes it worse and I make myself as small as I can on this seat next to the wall made of glass in which I can faintly see my own reflection, sobbing and looking oh so small.
When I hear the door open and voices coming up from behind me, I get up without another word and disappear into my room, changing into something comfortable and crawling into my bed, pulling the silk hangings shut, drowning myself in the darkness that now engulfs me.
Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears from rolling down my face to soak into the pillow and my fists clench around the fabric of my shirt, right by my chest because that is where it hurts the most, where I need the pain to go away the most urgent because otherwise it will just rip me apart and leave me to drown in my own misery.
I just can’t see a way out of this, am left by all hope that Purple would listen to me, nevermind her brother.
But because I feel like if I keep laying here, sobbing my heart out and letting my own thoughts hurt myself, I will pass out, I sit up and try to breathe, fighting with my own slight hiccup and it feels like I take forever to just calmly breathe again.
Despite the thought of the darkness and oblivion of sleep being alluring, I carefully slip out of my bed and walk over to my bag, pulling out ink, a pen I had brought all the way from Korea to remind me of Yoora, and a couple of parchments, just to climb back into my bed without the only other boy in here noticing me because he seems to be very focused on the homework before him.
I sit down in a criss cross and, with my breath still shaky and the skin on my face still red and wet from crying, I start writing, my handwriting slurring a bit because my hand is quivering slightly.

Dear Jungkook,

Is that too formal, I wonder, so I bunch it up and place it on my pillow.

Jungkookie,
I know it doesn’t sound very genuine…

God, this is even worse, I think and cast this sheet aside as well.

Jungkookie,

I am sorry.
I am so sorry for hurting you.
If  I had thought about what to say in advance I would not have 
put it the way I did
If I am being honest
I was scared 
Scared of losing either you or your sister… 
now I messed up with both of you and I
wish I could do anything to fix things
Please
Please let me talk to you and explain what I really meant
After that you can go away again
But please
give me that one chance
One thing I really did mean
I love you
I really do

Yours
Angel

I stare at the parchment and see blobs of ink all around the letters because I had been careless and there is also wet stains on the parchment from the couple of tears that had fallen off my cheeks onto the paper
Oh fuck it I think and fold the paper, then get up and put it into an envelope.
I contemplate whether to go to the owl tower tonight or rather tomorrow and as the fatigue of laying awake night after night and crying more than was probably a normal amount rush over me, I just put the envelope in my bag and decide to send it away tomorrow.
It’s not like you have anyone to hang out with anyway my traitorous mind reminds me and I sigh deeply, pulling my covers over me for good this time, hoping for the numbness of sleep to chase away the darkness on my mind.

-

I sent the letter the next morning but I still have not gotten a response or a reaction of any kind.
I still went to the shack as often as I could but I never met Jungkook and I also couldn’t smell him anymore which means that he apparently didn’t come back a single time after he had stormed off and that makes me even sadder than I already am.
Why didn’t he?
Did he not mean what he had said at… at the very end?
All those thoughts tire me and I roll onto my side so I can curl into a tight ball and try to fall asleep, but my racing mind keeps me awake.
Not talking to Purple for so long is weird and makes me feel lonely and weird, because I have nobody that I can tell about my day, or gossip with, or share the most trivial details of my day with.
The hole she is leaving in me with her absence feels like a physical wound, as if an actual part of my body is missing and I feel the disability it causes me more with every day, every hour, every second passing.
I need to talk to her somehow, try and fix it, confront the problem and explain myself, but I am scared.
Scared that I will hurt her even more.
Scared that she will hurt me even more.
Scared that more damage will be caused that will only worsen everything that is already wrong between us.
Those thoughts are fighting against the urge, the need of having her back or at least hearing her voice again when directed at me, not as an echo of something she said to her other friends, especially Fred, who she seems to be closer to than ever before, as if he had just taken my spot.
Without having made a decision, having decided whether or not to talk to her again, I fall asleep, more tears falling from my eyes as I slip into the unconsciousness of sleep.