relationship: boyfriends
warnings: depression, mentions of attempted suicides, mentions of self harm
word count: 1.5k
published: 08.02.20
synopsis: in which y/n is tired of it all, but wooyoung was the only thing to always keep him together.
" depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is "
- atticus
y/n had severe depression. nothing more nothing less. everyday, there were reasons for him to give up, and he'd tried. he'd tried three times, and each time he did, he broke down even more. waking up in the hospital bed, he'd just stare at the ceiling and see white and wonder, "why the hell am i still here."
three times should have been enough to get the job done, but for some reason he always failed. he didn't know if whatever god was out there had a plan for him or if he was so useless he couldn't even off himself properly.
nevertheless, everytime he woke up in that hopsital, whether it be from his bandaged wrists, throat or a pumped stomach, when he finally had the courage to look down, there'd be that one person. the one who stayed with him no matter what. at first, he was convinced that he was only there out of pity, but after waking up the third time and hearing how wooyoung cried the whole time and wouldn't let go of his hand, he started to believe and understand that wooyoung was there because he wanted him by his side.
y/n always desired to be loved and wanted; growing up in a broken home, mother always out of it, and father a raging alcoholic, there was no peace, no quiet. there was always voices shouting at him; insulting him.
he didn't even know why wooyoung wanted to be by his side in the first place, but he didn't care anymore. as long as wooyoung was there, there was a reason for him to continue.
it's been a year since y/n's last attempt. regardless, he still woke up (on the nights he did sleep) and he could lay there for hours just watching wooyoung. wooyoung didn't sleep late, it was just that y/n didn't sleep; hence the boy always looked beyond exhausted.
y/n had been going to group therapy three nights a week, wooyoung accompanied him knowing y/n would be uncomfortable without a familiar and trusted face. they helped a little, but honestly nothing helped more than wooyoung's presence.
y/n was one of the lucky ones, if it dare be said. his whole life was hell, but he'd still been able to find someone that held him together. when y/n woke up in the hospital last and saw wooyoung asleep, his head on his lap and his hands tightly latched onto his own, that was when he decided; if i can't live for me, i'll live for him.
sure, he was lucky. his life was no longer his own, it was wooyoung's, and frankly, y/n trusted that more than anything. having to live with his fucked up thoughts, he felt more safe knowing he kept going because of wooyoung...
-
y/n and wooyoung met in middle school. wooyoung was from a well off family, both parents intact and the ability to smile with them. y/n was from a family that didn't give two shits about the other. there was the occasional time his father would go off the rails in his drunken rage and put his hands on y/n and there was the time where his mother would be sodoped up, she didn't even know her own name. y/n hated life while wooyoung was okay with his.
y/n was the class clown, you could say. really, he wasn't that funny, but those around him found his situation laughable and it remained so. wooyoung was one of the only ones who didn't laugh at him, but he didn't quite pity him either. the two were grouped together for a project in which they had to present the chemical reactions of the brain to certain situations.
