rain [taekook] DISCONTINUED

human

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR // HUMAN
Jungkook POV

Pain. Ache. Agony.

That is all that is felt within my mind and body upon my awakening in my cold, dark room. Empty. My eyes had opened, immediately seeking the sensation of rest that differed from my two hours of nightmares. My gaze locked upon the vacant spot beside me that yearns to be filled by my one true love. He's gone now. He's going to move on, he's going to find someone new, he'll find someone better, he'll forget me. All the while I'll still be here, staring at that cold, empty spot.

A sigh emits passed chapped lips that are are now coated in red from tiny openings, my body has turned numb from the lack of movement from hours of laying in bed, the covers draped securely over my small frame while tears drip down my cheeks subconsciously. I haven't stopped crying since the moment everything ended. Even when I was asleep I cried buckets, my pillows were soaked in a salty dew.

Why does it hurt so much? Why can't I just forget? I'd do anything to just forgot... but then I'll forget all the greatest moments in my life. The times were I truly felt happy. I love Taehyung, so much. I can't let him go, I won't be able to love another and that scares me down to my core. No one is ever going to love me like he did and I'll never love anyone but him. No one else is going to want me. My old thoughts are beginning to return and I find myself being even more pathetic and useless than before. Happiness is impossible for you and now you're all alone.

I lick my lips to wet them ever so slightly, immediately tasting the bittersweet tanginess of both fresh and dried blood. My hands clench around the freezing sheets of my bed that no longer possess the warmth I desire. Everything feels so cold now, nothing is glowing in an enchanting light, everything seems dull and pointless.

Taking one deep breath and a few sniffles to follow, I slowly sit up, squeezing my eyes shut to control the inevitable stabbing pain that travels through my brain. One of my hands quickly reaches up to soothe the ache while the other supports my trembling body that has slipped back into its old form. The strength I've built up is now gone. You're a living corpse, no one loves you.

My hand shakily reaches over to my bed side table to grab my phone. I lift up the object and turn it on, the bright light causing my brain to split into even more pain, even when the brightness is on the lowest possible setting. I swallow harshly and swing my legs to the side of the bed, letting them sway side to side, one hand fiddles with the device while the other rest on a boney knee.

52 missed messages. 27 missed calls. 16 voicemails.

A strained groan escapes pink lips, tears falling in an uncountable manner. I bite my bottom lip to refrain from breaking down, for if I do, no one can come save me and be my momentary superman. Instead of focussing on the messages from the one I wish to forget so desperately, I concentrate on the ones from concerned friends and one eager best friend. They haven't stopped trying to contact me since the break up four days ago, I haven't responded to any of them.

They've each visited too, each with a different tone and more selected words, all except Jimin were calm and dignified. He has visited everyday, speaking quietly on the other side of a thin oak door in the hopes I would be listening. I was there every time he spoke, hearing each sad word spill form his lips. I can't blame him for being worried, if my best friend had locked himself in an isolated area for nearly a week without contacting I would be concerned too. I just wish he didn't make me feel so guilty about it.