teacher's pet | taekook

TwENTY SeVEN { drawing }

Taehyung woke up feeling groggier than ever. His chest ached and blood pounded against his skull. Cheers to sleep inertia!

He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, whimpering at the sore pull in his muscles. Everything hurt. How long was he asleep for?

He turned over onto his side and reached to turn the alarm clock around so he could read it, and then he noticed the bandage around his hand. Huh. Taehyung flexed his fingers and whimpered at the widespread stinging sensation running through his nerves. A burn? When did that happen?

Then it hit him. Yoongi is gone, isn't he.

Taehyung laid there with bated breath. No, that's not right. He refused to believe his own word and instead waited for him — Jungkook or Yoongi, maybe — to tell him that none of it was true. Because Yoongi couldn't actually be dead, Taehyung only had a nightmare. A really, really, bad and unfortunately realistic nightmare.

Despite the absolute anguish in his heart, he didn't cry. He should be crying, but he's too tired to. He was probably too dehydrated to produce tears in the first place — his eyes felt dry, so that must be the case.

He looked back at the clock again, blinking 08:17. Only 8 o'clock? He hadn't gone to bed until really early in the morning, somewhere around 6; no wonder he felt so tired. 

Taehyung groaned and rolled onto his back. That's when he realized Jungkook wasn't lying beside him. Odd. Even when Taehyung sleeps in hours after Jungkook has awoken, Jungkook usually stays in bed with him until he wakes up too. But Taehyung woke up alone this time. The realization eased a tension Taehyung hadn't realized was building in his chest.

Taehyung lied still for a moment longer, and then the pang in his bladder hit him and he realized he really had to pee. He would've stayed in bed all day if it weren't for that — staying in bed was the easiest way to cop out of accepting Yoongi's absence. He got up with reluctance, and did his business. Just as he went to slip under the sheets again in hopes to escape for a little longer, his stomach growled. It was no longer churning with nausea, and instead gurgling with hunger. Dammit. He cursed his stupid bodily needs for demanding his attention.

Resolving to get something to eat, Taehyung poked his head out into the hallway and looked both ways as if he was crossing a busy street. Jungkook was nowhere to be heard or found.

Then his eyes landed upon Yoongi's door, and he froze. A dangerous thought popped into his mind.

He looked towards the stairs again, holding his breath — Jungkook was most definitely downstairs, and he had no reason to come up; he likely thought Taehyung was still asleep. So, Taehyung tiptoed down the hall, until he came to stand in front of Yoongi's door. Anguish clung to his every limb with the weight of cinder blocks; a chill slithered down his spine.

What the hell was he thinking? The emotional side of him really didn't want to find out what was inside Yoongi's room. That part of him just wanted to stay in his own room and never come out. But he still gripped the handle.

Blood pounding in his ears, he slowly pushed the door open, just enough for him to peek inside. The room was dark as ever, but Taehyung could still make out what was inside: nothing.

The bed frame — which once was the only thing in the room — was gone. And so was Yoongi.

Taehyung didn't know what he was expecting to see in Yoongi's room — Yoongi, perhaps? — but at the sight, grief smothered him, enveloping him and dropping on him like a wet blanket — thick, heavy, suffocating.