06. CRUSHED SUBSTANCES

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CRUSHED
SUBSTANCES

JEONGGUK'S POV

HE WAS NUMB. the drugs in his system and alcohol in his bottle were clearly working their demonic magic, fingers slowly tapping and eyes ringed with crimson. his pupils were as wide as the iris itself, wild and open for the whole universe to pour through.

jeongguk had been left alone in the cold motel room. crushed substances ranging from white to brown littered the small coffee table and empty alcohol bottles accompanied them; he was wired, ready to kill someone with his bare hands.

he was a monster, and he allowed himself to be.

sure enough there'll be complaints about the room being destroyed in the morning: paintings had been thrown on the floor and torn, glass anywhere and everywhere, needles astray and digging into the scratchy couch material. he had lost his temper with an old acquaintance who came with information on the gang — said person's blood was splattered on the wall, dripped down and dried until crusted.

it had been a few months short of a year since raesun had been declared dead, and he couldn't get the words of that doctor out of his head. she has passed a peaceful death. her parents are on their way. i'm so sorry for your loss.

he remembered falling to his knees that day. he remembered sobbing, grabbing the doctor by his collar and pleading him to bring her back — even though she was already gone. those frozen tears of crystal despair that ran down his cheeks still haunted him, as well as her laughter and chaste kisses.

the little things, he mentally spat as he started to light up a joint, the little things that i thought didn't matter at all are the things i miss the most.

yoongi walked into the room, without knocking or anything; jeongguk wasn't mad per say, just wondered what the man wanted. the older sat himself on the bed opposite him, his own joint in hand as well as a fresh bag of cocaine. he threw the small baggie onto the table and jeongguk gave a nod.

"taeyong gave me a discount on that, but for a different kinda price so you better share," yoongi muttered as he pulled on his joint.

jeongguk rose a brow, picking up the baggie and inspecting the snowy powder, "what kind of price?"

"just do a few jobs for him, drop offs and shit," the older shrugged, "nothing big but still, i'd rather not do it."

"i can do it if you want, i don't mind," jeongguk mumbled, pouring out the powder with his joint held by his cracked lips, to neaten it up into a small row of lines.

oh god does this shit bring back some memories, he thought. imagining the day in the motel closer to home, his sweetheart's bare body hugging him from behind before he sat up, skiing the lines like no tomorrow. he couldn't help but choke up remembering it; it wasn't romantic, more so toxic, but he wanted those times back.

so badly.

"come on guk, let's get to it," yoongi dragged himself up and sat beside the broken younger, taking it upon himself to start taking the lines.

i might as well die than feel like this.

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