NCT Oneshots {ot23} | open

Thunder and Lightning: Jisung + Taeyong

▹prompt: create a sense of peace amongst a storm or turbulence
▹word count: 898
▹genre: hurt/comfort
▹warnings: panic attacks

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹❀◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

Each night, once his eyelids have locked his tired pupils away in darkness, the wind growls to life. It never misses a sunset; the forecast is always correct, and tonight is no exception.

The rustling leaves whisper all his insecurities, shamelessly repeating the same utterances as the previous night.

In the distance, a howl mimics the cruelty of the unforgiving haters.

The raindrops pelt him with persistent doubts and worries as a sick punishment for his impurities.

This storm behaves the exact same every single night. Its rage never ceases. He never gets used to it. 

Jisung squeezes his knees against his chest, but the attempt at retaining more body heat proves futile as he only shivers more violently. Or is it fear shaking him like a limp rag doll? At this point, he isn't sure if he's stricken by terror, or if he's just cold.

Lightning strikes.

The flash blinds Jisung. The electricity paralyses him.

Each day, countless layers of concealer are required to cover up the debris left in the storm's tracks. It takes so many volumes of coffee to give his body strength to collect all the pieces that even Jaemin frowns. Putting them back together into even the vague resemblance of a smile wastes more energy than available to him.

Jisung is tired.

A nearby tree groans and shakes under the force of this evil side of nature, causing Jisung's hands to clamp over his ears and protect them from the approaching thunder. More lightning pierces the darkness, and this time it burns into his shoulder. Instinct kicking in, Jisung recoils in his bed until the stark coldness of the wall collides with his skinny figure, and his legs ache from the tension.

Somewhere between the swirling clouds in his ears, he hears his name. A slither of blue sky. He can faintly recognise the letters, but before the second syllable another explosion of thunder rips his eardrums.

There are more voices now. And they're no longer blue sky. They join the howling and pound into his throbbing skull. No warning given, light rushes behind his eyelids and quickly becomes a scorching fire that rages out of control to burn his confidence away.

As the wind shreds everything apart, ruthless in its tactics, the rain rumbles. The endless bullets attack him, leaving him to flail in an ever-deepening flood which, despite its multitude, doesn't tame the flames. The currents hurl his body around. And then he starts to drown. Lungs caged, he's no longer able to reach for the much-needed oxygen. The wind persists. His nose and throat burn, the fire spreading. A much deeper, suffocating and sinister darkness drags his mind away and his body seems to disintegrate along with it: his feet are frozen numb; his legs plead for relaxation; the chin against his knees quivers; the long fingers against his ears feel foreign.

Behind the chaos wrecking his sensations, a tree groans once again. It's smaller this time. He can now recognise the sound as the bunk beds creaking when someone climbs the ladder. Jisung notices the flood around him part as something, or maybe someone, lifts his body from the murky depths of water. The fire withers away to a single beam from the lamp on Jaemin's desk across the room. Softer than lightning. He's raised from under the weight of his soaked blanket. Something wraps around Jisung and, in a way he's not entirely sure how he musters the strength to achieve, he knows it's strong enough to provide shelter from the storm. Warmth. The feeling seeps through his toes, his feet, and up his legs, allowing his screaming muscles to finally relax.

The currents simmer down to a rocking movement which soothes Jisung and his damaged self. Another instinct kicks in - he leans his pounding head into the embrace, unlike how he previously cowered away from what, he now realises, must have been Jaemin's concerned affection. The clouds withdraw when the storm murmurs its defeat. Along with the departing darkness, the thunder quiets down into the cautious footsteps of his members tiptoeing out of the room.

As if testing if he's regained control of his body, Jisung lifts his head and swallows. His throat is painfully sore from tears. Another sob pulsates through him. His bitten, raw lips sting. Another whimper follows. But at least he's sheltered now. Sheltered enough to dare to crack open his eyelids and bask in the overwhelming serenity of clear blue sky.

The rain dies away. The final clouds use up all their ammunition before also disappearing into the night. Everything clears, leaving just a final tear to drag itself down Jisung's left cheek. Taeyong lovingly reaches out his thumb and wipes it away. He follows the gesture with a soft touch of his lips to Jisung's forehead. A kiss that gives permission for the walls to retreat and for his breathing to settle. His face loosens. A smile that doesn't require energy, unlike the mask of all these recent months. The wind weakens as Jisung catches his breath. Taeyong's sweet hums caress Jisung in the way the wind would on a sweet summer's day if only it weren't so agitated.

And when Taeyong parts his lips to speak, all the rustling whispers are silenced and Jisung soaks up the leader's words.

"It's okay, Jisung-ah. I'm here."

"You're safe."

The wind stills.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹❀◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ