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jeongguk’s heart belonged to seoul.
yes, jeongguk’s home was busan; his memories, his childhood, his dialect all belonged to busan.
but his heart belonged to seoul.
his heart belonged to sneaking around too late at night to shower; his his heart belonged to one too many dance practices depriving him of sleep, taking his body apart piece-by-piece and never quite getting enough sleep to put it back together; his heart belonged to eating dinner with his six best friends, ignoring what’s playing on the television in favor of talking to each other.
but at the moment, jeongguk didn’t want to be in seoul. he didn’t want to be sitting on his bed, listening to yoongi’s phone go off in the room next to his. but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave it. he didn’t want to return to his family, who would greet him with open arms, and eat his mother’s dish that she made especially for jeongguk, because it’s still his favorite and maybe he’s grown out of the taste a little bit, but he doesn’t often get a chance to taste his childhood and it’s too rare of an experience for him to want to eat anything else when he returns home. he didn’t want to be in busan, but he also didn’t want to be in the dirty city that never quieted, always bustling with people who were as desperate as he used to be.
things had changed since then.
jeongguk was most definitely more desperate than those on the streets of seoul, albeit in a different way. it meant that jeongguk would never wrap himself in a trench coat and scarf and walk down the streets kept safe only by the people on them, searching for something to help him survive, to buy or maybe steal if it came down to it. (jeongguk didn’t do that. but he probably would if he were them.)
no, jeongguk didn’t think that he’d ever do that again, ever go back to who he was before. he was almost envious of them, the people who had bags under their eyes from desperation rather than brokenness.
now, jeongguk was different. now, jeongguk didn’t search for anything.
now, jeongguk vomited violet petals into his hands, soft on the coldness of his skin; a tangible form of the fractures of his heart.
he was exhausted.
sometimes he passed out on the kitchen floor, not realizing that he hadn’t slept in three days. he never realized that time was passing anymore. he never registered the clock ticking on the wall, counting down the seconds until his eyes dropped shut and he fell under, into darkness. he would stay there on the floor with tears on his face, surrounded by violet petals, until one of his hyungs would find him, picking him up and carrying him to his bed. and they would give him a kiss, leaving their tears on his skin but he never noticed because every time he woke up there were tears of his own on his face and they just mixed together.
jeongguk wished that when he slept, he wouldn’t dream; not even good dreams. because good dreams turned to bad dreams when you woke up and realized that none of it was real. he wished that he would wake up with no recollection of what his mind had conjured up in his sleep.
jeongguk ran his fingers across the magnets on the refrigerator. there used to be group photos of the seven of them hanging there. jeongguk didn’t know when they were taken down or where they went. he never bothered looking for them.
he walked over to the sliding door, observing the pretty balcony on the other side of it. jeongguk used to go out there to think. he still thought, but it wasn’t the same.
he slowly slid the door open, goosebumps rising on his skin as he stepped out on to the balcony. if any of his hyungs were with him, they would force him to wear a jacket, but jeongguk didn’t think about it.
he rested his elbows on the side of the balcony. if any of his hyungs were with him, they would have him take a step back in fear of him falling over, but jeongguk didn’t think about it.
he could see over the city, the lights bright against the dark stillness of the night. the calmness of it contrasted with the knowledge that the city was bustling down there, everybody going somewhere, everybody looking for something. stars were scattered across the sky, all far apart from each other, like there weren’t enough to light up the night; like they were being stretched too far in a futile attempt to make it work.
jeongguk’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he knew it was one of his hyungs texting him, checking on him. they told him that they were going somewhere, but jeongguk didn’t remember where.
he inhaled cool air; exhaled, warmer, before pulling his phone out. his lock screen was all pale skin and gummy smiles, looking right into the camera.
that smile was because of jeongguk.
the thought only served to make his heart bleed—stinging warmth seeping through the cracks of it.
from: seokjin-hyung
you ok?
they must have been gone for a while, jeongguk realized distantly as he read the text; they always checked up on each other when they were separated long enough.
jeongguk didn’t ponder the question. to seokjin, not ok didn’t mean breaking from the inside out. not ok didn’t mean being stuck between reality and a world in which something faceless is all around him, destroying him. not ok meant being kidnapped by an intruder, or for whatever reason, his heart stopping and his breathing halting and his skin turning cold.
so jeongguk robotically typed a yes, hitting the send button not even half a second before shoving his phone back into his pocket.
the cold air around him was biting at his body. he felt a bit numb, which was normal, sometimes, but it had been a while since he’d been outside and he forgot that the air would make his skin go to sleep.
he looked up at the sky, wondering how many people had wished on the stars above him. it wasn’t as if he had anything to wish for, really.
he wanted the one thing he could never have.
he closed his eyes; saw yoongi behind his eyelids.
he admired the image for a moment, the desperation grasping his heart as if it were its lifeline.
it hurt.
he couldn’t push the image away.
jeongguk opened his eyes, taking in a gasping breath. he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t breathing, which should have been more concerning, but it wasn’t; of course it wasn’t.
he tasted salt.
his surroundings almost matched his mind; lonely, cold, dark. his words would get lost in the air, disappearing into nothingness. or maybe—maybe—they would make it somewhere; somewhere that he couldn’t reach, where what he yearned for the most was—watching him, listening to him.
so jeongguk began to speak.
“yoongi-hyung,” he started, his voice coming out rough and wobbly. he swallowed, attempting to stabilize it. he wasn’t sure why he tried. “yoongi-hyung, i- i miss you.”
the night didn’t respond—jeongguk didn’t expect it to. his words disappeared into the air, the warmth of his breath fading away as if he’d never spoken.
he took in another gasping breath. “i just- it’s hard without you. i can’t- i can’t be who i was before. the other hyungs are worried. i don’t think they know what to do with me,” he continued. he sniffled, the cold only serving to make his nose run more. “i think one day i might become too much for them. maybe- maybe they’ll let me stay in touch with them, though. they’re all i have right now.
“i haven’t talked to my family since it happened,” he admitted. “i hope i don’t lose them, either, but i think... i think i might be too broken for anybody to hold anymore.“ he paused, throat tightening as he tried to get the words out. “i just miss you so much. and i keep coughing up flower petals—because i love you, y’know,” he spoke, the tremble in his voice never leaving. “i never got the chance to tell you that.”
he stared out above the city for a moment, the picture never changing, never moving. it seemed to have a lot in common with him.
“i hope that someday i can see you again.” he could feel himself shivering. he didn’t care. “maybe i can make you smile again. that was all i really wanted, you know—to see you smile. maybe i can love you like i always wanted to—but even if i can’t, it’s okay. i don’t mind throwing up flower petals as long as i can see you.” jeongguk took in another breath; less of a gasp, but just as painful. “i love you, yoongi-hyung.”
jeongguk stared up at the sky for a few moments, until he felt his body begging to collapse. he slid down on to the floor of the balcony, tears continuing to roll down his cheeks; red on the apples of them, paleness framing the color. sobs racked his body, extricating themselves from his lungs, his throat, his breath.
jeongguk felt nausea stirring in his stomach, and he immediately knew what was happening—the feeling was unmistakable. he gripped his knees in front of him, letting out a pained whine. his lungs began to burn, the sensation familiar but always just as painful as the first time it happened.
his body curled into itself, his eyes squeezing shut and his hands finding their way to his face. his body jerked, followed by soft blue flower petals making their way up his throat, falling into his hands. there were so many, and he could never breathe when it happened. he couldn’t imagine it could get any worse.
once the last of the petals of the night were out of his system, he tipped his head back, his body slumping against the railing of the balcony. his eyes relaxed, no longer squeezed shut, but heavy on his eyes as darkness began to overrule his consciousness.
there, jeongguk fell asleep, surrounded by violet petals with tears on his face.