BLUE | k•th ✓

•sixteen•

There's a change in his voice afterwards. It must pain him so much to talk about this to you and he's still doing it. He has to take pauses between his words now, some longer than others as some things are things he just doesn't want to repeat. He doesn't want to think or relive those traumatising events of his life.

"He told me-" Pause. Again. Tiny hands of silence grabbing the wisps of air as it gives him time to gather his emotions again before he can speak. But this time he feels like he can't make it, his emotions catching up to him as they climb up his throat.

A tear has rolled down your cheek by now because although you can't see how hurt he is, you can hear it clearly in his voice. Especially the shakiness in his breath and difficulty to get the words out. He's struggling. Struggling to show his raw emotions to someone else because he's kept them in for so long. He's struggling to let go again and make himself vulnerable in front of another human being.

Never was he like this with anyone. He would never let anyone know how broken he really is on the inside compared to how tough he acts on the outside.

But when you place your hand over his, he can feel the warmth all the way from the skin of his hand to the icy barrier over his heart. "He told me that if I never became successful like him..." he swallows, preparing for him to tell you the words that had pierced straight through his heart. "...I would never mean anything to him or anyone."

He breaks down, shoulders crumpling and hands shaking as a sob cracks through his chest. His body feels weak, like its leisurely decaying into nothing but his twisted feelings. The clothes are ripped off his back, leaving his body bare and shield-less. He feels naked in front of you now, nothing to hide the treacherous details that makes him so fucking human.

You slide off your stool, pulling him into your chest and letting his head rest into your body. His tears soak the fabric of your robe, washing over it like an endless waterfall. Your hands find his head and you cradle him like you can protect him from the terrifying world, heal him of his traumas or just do anything to let him know that everything's okay. And even if it's not, you'll do everything and anything to make it okay again.

Taehyung lets his body fall limp into yours, trembling as his tears pour. "A-and I b-believed him. I truly believed that no one would ever want me for me if I didn't have any money, no girls would be attracted me without my good looks or my money worth. T-there's nothing worthy of me, Y/N."

His voice breaks again, and the sobs take over, filling up the kitchen with the most tragic sounds. He's broken. Shattered. Those words destroyed him, and he never healed. Instead of trying to fix himself over the years, he just swept all the broken pieces under the rug, leaving it them to shatter into tinier pieces. "N-nobody will ever want me for me."

"Taehyung." You cry his name. "That's not true. That was never true and will never be true."

Your tears are nowhere near as heavy as his and instead of saying anything, the two of you listen to each other's sobs. The cries dry out eventually, but he doesn't budge from your figure, needing your physical comfort as much as he needed water.