𝙍𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙏𝙐𝙈- 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨

十二

jeongin felt frost crawling up his back, freezing every single one of his muscles and paralyzing his limbs. his lips stung, and shame crashed down onto his shoulders. he felt jisung's fingers brush his shoulder. jeongin flinched like he had just touched something hot and pushed himself back against his seat in the passenger car. horror struck him through the chest as he covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide.

"o-oh my god i shouldn't have-" jeongin put his head in his hands.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling his eyes sting with tears. his lips prickled and felt like they were injected with poison. dread pooled at the pit of his stomach and he looked away so he wouldn't see the disappointment and disgust in jisung's eyes.

"hey, jeongin," came jisung's surprisingly gently voice. "look at me."

"no," jeongin mumbled, turning his head even further away.

"no, i'm serious," jisung said in that same gentle voice. shame flared up in jeongin's chest and he shook his head.

"okay, well," jisung sighed after a short pause. "i just want you to know that it's fine, okay?" 

no, it's not okay, i just fucking kissed you and you have a boyfriend.

"we all go through this kind of stuff, you know? and it's fine. you can choose to forget it, and if you want me to, then i will. don't stress out too much okay?"

jeongin felt a teardrop roll down his cheek. no, no, no, not here, not now. he hurriedly wiped it away.

"i just feel like i ruined everything. and- and i don't want it to be awkward between us," jeongin murmured.

"you didn't ruin anything," jisung said. jeongin could hear the smile in his voice. it made him feel even worse. 

the air between them seemed to get even heavier.

"can we just forget about this and act like this never happened?" jeongin asked tentatively.

"of course," jisung replied. "come here." jisung spread his arms to give him a hug, and jeongin let out a shaky laugh before hugging him back. 

he guiltily let himself drink in the warmth of the embrace, and relaxed in jisung's comforting arms.

-

he was going insane. 

letters from hoseok lay ripped on the carpet stained with black coffee. shards of his white mug were scattered on the floor. velvety red petals littered his furniture, crushed under chairs and tables. His hair was messy, eyes bloodshot, and lips dry. 

he was going fucking insane.

he had never felt an emotion like that enter himself. it left him empty, incomplete, craving for more. murder used to be his source of life, but now it was that feeling. he couldn't sleep. he couldn't think straight. his entire vision was clouded with a hazy shade of sunset orange. fuck all of those targets, he thought. fuck all the clients, fuck hoseok, fuck all of it.  

light lilac clouds enveloped him, curling around his limbs in thick vines, reaching into his chest and poisoning his veins with lavender pain. his body threatened to burst from the pulsing energy inside of him. he was alive, finally alive, but living a polluted version of himself. he was a deep purple, seething and slithering into black. 

the ground rumbled under his feet and he fell to the ground on his knees, gripping his head as electric streaks of magenta pain shot through his head. he was shriveling up, his deep violet petals curling into jet-black puffs of smoke. large waves of royal purple knocked him onto his side and seeped into his skin. excruciating pain paralyzed him, yet his body kept on drinking in the dangerously calming hues. his fingers stung, the feeling slowly spreading through his body and making its way to his face. he struggled to breathe, various shades of purple in his vision twisting and swirling.

then-

silence. 

stillness.

the strong vines dissipated into thin air. his blood cleared of poison, his head of pain, his body of heaviness. he felt lighter, more empty, more alone.

he slowly raised his right arm to prop himself up on his elbows. he winced as a shard of his broken mug dug into his arm and drew blood. carefully pulling himself off of the ground, he maneuvered his way over the kitchen and hung his pale arm over the sink. he watched as the blood dripped off of his skin, mixing with the water and trickling down the drain. 

he turned to his small living room, eyes raking over the crushed roses, torn paper, and coffee stains. he gathered the remains of his mug, delicately picking up each piece. he dropped them into the trash can with a clatter, and bent down to scrub at the brown stains. he stuffed the paper towels into the paper cup from a nearby cafe. a crimson liquid like liquified velvet seeped out of the red petals as he scooped them up in his hands.

the petals stained his skin.  

i'm honestly not sure what's happening here... i tried to describe the emotions he was feeling but i'm not sure if it worked out lol