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31 :: lost & found

ngl yuta lowkey reminds me of tendou

8 chapters left (:

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Taehyung wasn't home when he came back.

What did he even expect? For Taehyung to come running back to him and jump into his arms, kiss him, hold him like he used to, and declare his love for him? After all they said, the hurt they inflicted, and the pain they were causing one another?

It was stupid. Stupid, all of this, but it was his fault for setting the fucking fuse that ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When he came back to an empty, dark dorm, the room lacking the usual warmth that he used to bask in. He glanced over at the small kitchenette, chest clenching when he realized there was no light on, no Taehyung singing to himself, and certainly no bowl of cereal with the prettiest boy waiting for him.

And it was then, did his throat began to swell. It stung, the reality of what they did, like a harsh slap to his face which he honestly deserved.

He dropped his duffle by the couch, kicked his shoes off, and wandered over to his room, feeling as if he was sinking into the flooring with every heavy step. If only his heart was numb, maybe this would have been easier, but he knew better.

This wouldn't be easy any other way.

Jeongguk inhaled unevenly, the air struggling to fill his constricted lungs as he clumsily lost his footing. He clutched the doorframe, lowering himself against it, eyes pinching shut while every breath he took was labored, unbearably suffocating.

He fucked up. Fucked up everything. And at this point, no should-have or what-if could ever reverse what he had done. It happened, and it fucked them up. There was no taking back anything.

And certainly, there was no way to forget when everywhere he looked, he saw him.

He saw him and his dorky box-smile, smelled his sweet perfume that lingered even if he was already walking away, heard the sound of his deep laughter ringing against his ear. Heard the ghost of his vowels saying his name, the pad of his footsteps, felt the phantom of his fingers beneath his jaw, and the pressure of his lips on his.

It wasn't fair but at the same time, it was. He got what he deserved, what he knew was impending but chose to ignore.

Hell, Jeongguk could throw a tantrum, scream and kick, and even hit but nothing would give Taehyung back to him.

Why should he get back the person he chose to push away?

Regret— that was it. It consumed him, devouring at every piece of his insides until he was nothing but bone and purposefuly left a heavy heart that tortured him as it fell into pieces he could no longer pick up.

It wrapped around his throat and suffocated him, forcing the air out of his lungs. Made it harder to breathe, to ease his chest before he could start to spin out of control—

Jeon Jeongguk didn't cry. He rarely did.

But now, he wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to.