The Shadow's Hold

Darkness

Yoongi got home in silence. Absolute silence.

On autopilot, he searched for his keys, inserted them on the key hole and opened his door.

He took a look around. The blanket he used last time to cover you was still on his couch.

The coffee machine was still off.

The board games were still on a pile on the floor next to the TV. Turning it on, the last show you watched together was still displayed on the screen.

His brain was so numb, the only feeling present was apathy.

Forcing his legs, he directed himself to his room, where a silver string was beautifully resting on top of his nightstand. A silver necklace he had bought for you to adorne your chest and breasts when being intimate.

Taking it into his hands, he wished to crush it with all his strength but found himself unable to hurt it.

Throwing himself onto his bed in unending agony, he rolled over only to get a whiff of your perfume on his sheets.

The blade which was lodged in his heart twisted itself deeply. Yanking off the sheets, he threw them into the washing machine, getting it ready to work but when it was time to press the button... he couldn't.

How pathetic. You bluntly told him he was worth nothing and he still couldn't get rid of your memories.

There was a hammering in his head. He felt sick.

Running to the bathroom in an attempt to dump what little content he had in his stomach, he found himself yet again, reminiscing the time you made love in the shower.

Wait. You couldn't make love. That was too romantic.

When you had sex in the shower.

When you surrendered to his touch without caring he had just barged in, without asking permission while you were showering.

When you took care of each other's needs with such mastery and devotion. When you sought to please the other so selflessly.

It hurt to remember. Everywhere reminded him of you.

You, who so vehemently stated not wanting a relationship of any kind since the beginning.

You, who repeated countless times to only be interested in sex.

You, who made him forget every clause in your agreement.

You... who made him fall in love.

The headache was too grand to bare. Unconsciously walking to his studio, he wasn't expecting the next sequence of events.

For when he entered his favourite room and saw the piano, tears cascaded down his cheeks.

Taking his seat, he played your lullaby with such heartache, it was physically painful to keep his eyes open.

Not that he needed to. He knew his piano like the back of his hand. He knew every single detail of it. He also knew you spent countless hours hearing him play. And praising his craft.

And praising his talent.

And praising him.

With an anger so strong it would move mountains, Yoongi let his hurt flow onto the melody, playing the keys with such rage, the whole room felt saturated with sound.

His whole body was moving in compass with the song, his teeth clattering in unison as his tears streamed down yet again.

Adding sequence upon sequence, the darkness embracing the song, he let the final chords play, having finally finished the lullaby.