LA DOULEUR EXQUISE ━ Scott McCall

𝒗. Visceral beings are illusive.

♱₊˚. ◞࿐ .・ ❪ 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬. ❫

He didn't know how he ended up at Deaton's clinic. It was almost as though his brain had shut off and willed his legs to take him wherever they desired. The brittle cold of the wind wrung circles around his body as he continued to move towards the door ━━ goosebumps lining his arms and shoulders, still clad in his gym-wear.

Korain hadn't mentioned to Scott that his anxiety was spiking deep thorns through his abdomen, nor that his throat felt torn and ragged. All he did was smile sweetly at him and dragged a soft hand over his shoulder, reassuring him that he was okay. Korain isn't sure that Scott truly thought he was okay ━━ for their entire walk back to the main school building had consisted of Scott's large hands massaging the soft surface of Korain's sides ━━ willing the trembles that ran through his figure to subside. Scott must've deemed him insane as he insisted, voice still wet with emotion and eyes drooped in exhaustion, but he let him go anyway because he had trust in Korain's words. It was a simple thing but it made the boys heart leap and twist in a happy swirl.

But now he was at Deaton's and he was trying to ignore the metallic pang still present in his mouth ━━ the journey over including an extra daisy cloying the wet of his lip as Korain stared at it in resignation. He wanted to throw it away, toss it to the ground and throw all of his weight atop it until it was nothing more than a pitiful pile of ash and dust. But of course he had to curse his self control and he kept it clutched in his shaking hands ━━ they're always shaking, since the beginning of this nightmare, they hadn't stopped ━━ thumbing the dampness and smearing blood across his fingers. He tried not to care as the stench of iron muffled his senses.

He truly wasn't sure if he wanted to go in. He'd promised himself that he'd only tell someone if it got worse. And truthfully it hadn't ━━ not in the typical way anyway. The mere fact that the abnormal event had repeated itself paved way for fear and concern but it wasn't bad ━━ if anything it was better than the first time. Easier ━━ almost as if the constricting in his lungs were becoming normal. It shouldn't be normal, he thought bitterly. He hated the taste it left in his mouth ━━ not traditionally that of blood but that searing bitterness that lay rest upon his torn tongue. It was frustrating to say the least.

Korain wasn't a bitter person. He'd never been. For he was all honeymouthed and riddled with soft abrasions and swimming in shirts stained by colour and grass. His gentle words always leaving a breathlessness about him ━━ as if they'd been plucked from the sky's and placed with precision for his tongue and his tongue only to utter in the break of dawn. The amalgamation of colour sanding the rough edges and smoothing them until even the softest of touches were safe from their harsh daggers. But now those touches leaked mauve wine and sour pleasantries. It burnt and scorched his mouth, leaving his lips red-raw and wet from muffled sobs as the sun set.

But Korain didn't want to be bitter ━━ he wanted to soar and feel light again ━━ feel like his chest was made of clouds and not welded with cement. Pressing his hand against the door, he hadn't truly realised how cold he was, for the simple touch sprung warmth into his nerves and sparked a fire beneath his palm. Hugging himself as he walked through the door ━━ the dull lights cast obtuse shadows across the eggshell coloured room.