sinner. kth x myg

17. fear

the air was heavy between taehyung and seokjin, sitting across from each other in taehyung's living room.

seokjin had come by out of nowhere, and taehyung had let him inside his apartment. now they sat, seokjin with a cup of coffee and taehyung with water.

"how have things been?" seokjin asked. his voice was gentle, gliding through the air with grace and a sense of carefulness.

"the same as always," taehyung replied curtly. "why did you come?"

"taehyung, you haven't been at work for three days straight. twice you didn't even call in sick," seokjin said. "you're lucky jimin and i talked boss out of firing you."

taehyung scoffed. "lucky? wow, thanks." he rubbed his eyes, blinking slowly. "i won't be able to go to work tomorrow either, and probably the day after too. i can't. talking to our boss was pointless."

"you can't?"

"yes, i can't."

seokjin put down his cup, running a hand through his hair. his eyes showed concern and frustration simultaneously, filled with conflicted emotions. "what do you mean, you can't?"

taehyung looked away and bit his lip. seokjin's frustration only grew. "taehyung, fucking talk to me. you're being so closed off, so cryptic. i want to help you, but you're not letting me!"

"goddamnit, i never asked you to help me!" taehyung shouted. he took a deep breath, hands shaking. "fine. i'm scared to leave the house, okay? facing people scares me so much that i haven't been leaving the house during the day. and i don't want to leave anyways! i want to stay here and hide away. is that enough of a fucking explanation for you?"

seokjin then averted his gaze. "you're scared?"

taehyung smiled cynically, something dark and morbid casting over his features. "oh seokjin, i'm scared of everything." his smile fell, revealing dark eyes and tight lips. "i don't even remember the last time i woke up in the morning without feeling afraid of something."

that was true.

his black truth, his dark sins.

he had woken up in the morning as a child, afraid of his mother, afraid of her wrath and the sickening smell of alcohol and cigarettes. he had lived his childhood on his tiptoes, padding through his small, rundown home praying to a god that didn't exist, praying that he would get by for just a day without bruises and cigarette burns on his fragile skin. his life had been so, so full of fear.

and then he had grown into an older boy, and at sixteen years old, he woke up in the morning with a pit of fear in his stomach when he remembered that his mother was dead. what was he going to do? how was he going to live on knowing that his mother had killed herself in his bathroom, and that he had done nothing to save her? how would he live with his unforgivable sins? who would forgive him?

then at nineteen years old, he was afraid of living. he was afraid of everything in the world: people, nightmares, himself. he would look at himself in the mirror with disgust, pinching at his skin and cutting away his wrists, throwing up on purpose just to feel empty. at nineteen years old, he was afraid of waking up in the morning and knowing that he was still alive, knowing that his sins were still a part of him and that he would have to continue living with them.

"taehyung, you can't keep living like this," seokjin said. "you're killing yourself."

taehyung glanced at him. "that's exactly why i'm just not going to live anymore," he said. "i'll hide away, and maybe one day, i'll fall asleep at night and never wake up again."

"don't think like that. don't you dare do anything to hurt yourself."

"don't dare? don't dare?" taehyung laughed softly. "seokjin, i'm already hurting myself. i've been hurting myself. i just need to free myself now."

"so stop hurting yourself! why won't you stop?"

"that's the awful thing, seokjin. i can't stop." he reached for his sleeve. he was being impulsive, he was disoriented and tired and so ready to die that he was acting impulsively. he was going to regret all of this later, he knew, but he wasn't thinking. as taehyung rolled up his sleeve, he said, "see? i've been hurting myself, and i can't stop."

seokjin's eyes widened. "fuck, taehyung. fuck. why didn't you tell me? why didn't you fucking tell me? i told you to tell me if something was going on!" he ran his fingers over the scars and cuts. "there are so many. how long have you been doing this?"

"since i was sixteen," taehyung said, rolling his sleeve back down. "my mother died and i decided i hated myself even more than i hated her."

"taehyung, you need to stop this. whether you want it or not, death isn't the answer. it's not the solution."

"are you sure about that?"

"jesus christ taehyung, listen to me." seokjin sighed. "you need help. not from me, not from any other friend, not from yourself. you need to see a professional before you land yourself in the hospital again."

"why would i end up in the hospital again?"

"have you seen yourself? you look like you're going to pass out any minute."

taehyung shrugged nonchalantly. "i'm fine," he bit back. "i told you, i've been doing this for a while. i know what i'm doing, and i have it under control."

"you have it under control? seriously?"

taehyung rolled his eyes, disregarding seokjin's concern. "i need to sleep," he said. "i'm going to my room."

he stood, and seokjin immediately grabbed his wrist to stop him. the fabric lay too loose around his bone. "you can't keep doing this." seokjin tightened his grip around taehyung's skinny wrist, knuckles white from the tension. "do you know how thin you are? how tired you seem?"

taehyung shoved seokjin's hand away. "i'm fine. don't worry so much about me." his throat closed up as he came closer and closer to breaking again.

he slowly ambled into his bedroom and shut the door, dropping to the ground in tears. the sound of his front door shutting closed as seokjin left echoed through the small apartment, and then taehyung sobbed.

he screamed into pillows and pulled at his own hair, a sort of desperate pain constricting his chest tightly, closing up his throat so that the only sounds leaving his lips were choked sobs and strangled screams. taehyung was hurting, and there was no way to stop it. hurting, crying, starving, cutting, and repeating it over and over and over again seemed to just be the damned blueprint for his life. he screamed again, rapid breaths leaving his lungs as tears streamed down his face and fell into the sheets on his bed.

he wasn't sure what he was crying for.