Still with you

Prologue

Like a galaxy of blue, pink and purple, the sky is an explosion of art, frozen in time and locked into place. Locked into his mind. He will always remember this sky. He'll always remember the way dotted stars glitter up above, glowing constellations of wayfinding and comfort. He'll always remember the light chill of early winter air that manages to slip past the glass window through which he is admiring the painting. He'll always remember the flickering street lamp obscuring the view from below, dingy and pestering yet stable and an anchor to reality.

Most importantly, Taehyung will always remember the voices echoing through thin walls. Throat-scratching screeches and lung-shattering shouts boom from just one room away, shaking the very structure this old house was built upon. They speak a melting pot of languages most of which Taehyung cannot understand but the words that do register in his mind are the most vile, unloving words that could ever be uttered, or in this case, roared, at another person. Especially if that other person wears a glistening golden ring that's the other half of yours.

One word stands out from the rest. Like a throbbing cherry thumb trapped between a doorframe, or a yellow and purple bruise pulsing against pale skin. Like suffocating gas seeping through the air vents, it's unbearable. It circles round and round Taehyung's mind like a mocking taunt, only spoken to bring an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, until the heart-shattering word is the only one he can hear. Divorce. Divorce. Divorce. His ears flood with the vomit-inducing poison.

"Tae..." The quiet voice beside him quivers and he knows that she can hear it too. The word is heavy and sullen and encapsulates the disposition of their entire lives yet is thrown around like a light, airy afterthought which can be discarded after a few calm moments. Divorce. Divorce. Divorce. It makes him want to rip his own hair out, he can't possibly imagine what she must be feeling right now. He reaches out a hand to soothingly stroke her shiny brown locks but it doesn't do much. Glassy, wet tears spill down her soft cheeks, Taehyung thinks his eyes are welling up, too. "I know." He does. He knows all too well.

He knows that they fight tooth and nail whenever they are in each other's presence as if they can't stand to look into their mirrored gazes of regret. However, he also knows that they are experts at ignoring each other whenever that seems more desirable, to keep the peace, or perhaps to keep their sanity? What hurts the most to know is that they used to be kind to each other. That they used to hug each other and hold each other and kiss each other. If you can love another person so much you create four innocent children together how can you then turn around and declare you hate them and everything they've ever loved and stood for, including yourself?

Divorce. Divorce. Divorce. The word is kryptonite.

Taehyung thinks that despite the horror and sadness, perhaps a divorce wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it's what they need. Maybe it's what he needs. He knows it's not what they want, though. Suddenly, the door keeping them sheltered from the maddening bombardment of insults bursts open. In walks the winner of the shouting match. She looks angry, eyebrows arched, face red. But she also looks devastated. Deep frown, wet tears. When she opens her mouth, her voice is cracked like a piece of shattered glass laying dangerously upon the kitchen floor. She speaks one of the languages she knows her children will understand.

"Pack your things, we're leaving."

Divorce. Divorce. Divorce.

❈❈❈

Published: 24/11/22

Word count: 628