nepenthe [jin centric]

ch. 11

a/n-longer and depressing chapter awaits because i took forever. im sorry, it was exams. and for the song, its about depression and confusion. again. it's called faded by bevy maco

nepenthe
ch. 11

"Ah! One more thing," Yoongi whispered he was about to close the door, "we told the cops and such that you fell down the stairs. Namjoon drove the car home so you don't have to worry."

He retreated under the white sheets tentatively, "was it wrecked bad?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Just a little."

"Oh."

Yoongi suddenly jabbed a finger in his direction with a cold glare, "just because I'm not talking about it now doesn't mean we're not having a bloody meeting over this. You better explain yourself because there better be a good reason-I mean good reason-for you to have shaken me to my fucki-"

"Hyung," the muted sound of Hoseok's call down the hall cut their conversation short much to Seokjin's relief, "man you're going to get kicked out again!"

Seokjin watched the door slam shut. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, he hated it when Yoongi was mad at him but at the same time:

it is your fault.

what were you thinking?

He squeezes his eyes shut. His hands tremulously cover his ears.

Something is screaming.
Someone is hurting.

His breath hitches and quivers. The pressure in his skull grows and grows until he feels something crack behind his eye. The intense white hot pressure bulged its way down his neck and under his heart. So much pressure. He was going to be crushed.

WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

He buried himself deeper into the foreign fabric covers as he avoids looking the question in the eye. He wasn't suicidal but he had tried to kill himself.

Yeah and you know that's a lie.

It goes from unpredictable twitching,
to sudden convulsions.

THE DAMN BREAKS.

HE IS LOST.

EVERYTHING HURTS.

THE PRESSURE IS-

"We've got an emergency in room 013, the patient with head trauma is seizing."

Namjoon painfully sneezed into his arm and sniffed as he turned back to his crumpled sheet of notebook paper. It was odd how at the worst of times, his hospitalized hyung had managed to inspire him to write scattered lyrics and a mellow melody. He glanced at the already faded lyrics from the fullness of his pencil.

"I wish I hadn't let you leave that night."

A circular grey blotch spreads across the paper in a sluggish drag. It must have been drool or snot because he definitely wasn't crying at a simple line that he wrote.