Love Yourself: Him

O: H

 Jeongguk skips work the next day, and the next. He hasn't left his house. His stomach rumbles but his body somehow refuses to give up. He's still alive, but without energy to move.

In a sense, he's already dead inside a living body, a conscious corpse within human flesh.

His problem is that it's taking too long.

The last of his energy, he knows what little he has.

He knows what he can use it for.

It takes awhile, but he walks his way, at near two in the morning, to where traffic is heavy enough.

On a Saturday, it's filled with drivers who're too stupid to call a cab when they've drank a little.

On the streets, there are people who are too drunk to control themselves.

Jeongguk makes the decision to allow the ones he's bumped into to beat him in the alley.

This time, he'll be okay.

It's like there's almost a smile on his face. Blood across his cheek, bruised skin across his eye, his chest, his body. No bloody knuckles from fighting back. He hadn't needed to.

The traffic is speeding when he steps out from the alleyway.

The traffic light down the street has just turned green.

There's one car.

It's sleek, black.

It's speeding faster than the limit.

He's at the curb.

His foot takes a step onto the pavement.

Then the other foot.

If he just takes another step.

His vision goes as black at the object that smashes into his body. As red as the blood on his body, as purple as the bruises on his body.