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Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm.
It’s almost deafening, almost the only sound he hears, getting louder with every beat. It feels like it’s engulfing everything around it, coming from deep inside of him, coming from his core and taking over. A heartbeat shouldn’t be like that, shouldn’t be so loud, so pervasive, so intrusive, so all-encompassing, so overarching. After all, it’s just his heart. Well, one of the most vital organs, yes, pumping blood through his body every second and working hard just so that he’s alive, so yes, okay, it’s not just his heart. But that is not the point here.
It’s his heart. It shouldn’t feel like this beat, this steady rhythm is taking over, taking control of his whole being with every ba-dumm. But that is exactly what is happening. He can feel it beating inside of him, he can feel (or he is convinced that he can feel) how the muscle contracts, how it expands and how it pushes the blood through with power, with force. He can practically hear it, hear it in his bones, in his flesh, it’s vibrating, pulsing almost violently through his entire body.
It almost feels like it hurts. He knows his heart is healthy, he knows he is not having a heart attack or anything. It just feels like his heart is beating so intensely, it’s just beating so much and so hard that it hurts.
Right now, the center of his chest feels like the center of the universe, because his heartbeat is the only thing he hears, and the only thing he can think of is this rhythm – ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Everything else is blank, gone, like his heartbeat is also taking over his brain. Maybe that is because of the sound – he can hear it, can hear his pulse, and by now, it is the only thing he can hear. It gets louder and louder and louder until everything else fades out, until this, the sign of him being alive, of him being here, is the only thing he can hear.
Is it getting faster?
Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm.
The worst part of it is that it’s so powerful – being aware of his heartbeat leads to him becoming aware of everything else. His body. Where his thighs are touching the seat underneath him. Where his left foot is touching the inside of the plane. Where his fingers are painfully cramped around the hems of his sweater. Where his head touches the seat as he lets it fall back with an exhale.
It is getting faster, Yoongi is sure of it. And his breathing is, too. In and Out. Just like the blood pumping through him. In and Out of his heart. The sounds of his breathing mix with the white noise in his ears, and this – this is probably the most alive sound he has ever heard. Or the worst cacophony.
It shouldn’t make him feel powerless, after all, it is giving him power, the power to live, to breathe, to be on this earth. It is just not easy feeling powerful when this steady rhythm is taking over your every thought, every last corner of your brain, just like your breathing is filling every last corner of your lungs with air until it’s all you can feel in your body, the pulsing and the breath. Muscles contracting, steadily, over and over and over again.
It should make him feel powerful. Yoongi is alive, he is breathing, his heart beating strong and steady inside of his chest. This is the basis for his life, a life he is so grateful for, because if his heart would not beat like crazy inside of him, he would not be able to make music, to enjoy a good night’s sleep, to perform with his six brothers, to wake up next to –
As if Taehyung can read his mind, he feels a tingling in his right pinky. Taehyung is there. Taehyung has taken the seat next to him and right now, he is touching him. It’s not much, just a subtle touch to this one finger, probably with his own pinky, but it makes Yoongi’s skin prickle. Taehyung’s hand shifts closer and the pressure becomes stronger, until he can feel the whole of the other’s finger press into his. And then, Taehyung takes his pinky and links their two fingers together. A promise.
Yoongi didn’t realize that he had closed his eyes, only does now as he opens them. Namjoon is reading in the seat across from him, a steward is just putting down a tray with snacks in front of Hobi on the other side of the plane and – they are already in the air? Yoongi didn’t even realize that, too caught up in the steady drumming inside of him.
“Breathe.”
He almost doesn’t catch it, with the loud buzzing of the plane and the ringing of his heartbeat in his ears. Maybe it’s because he’s so attuned to the low hum of Taehyung’s voice that he would catch it everywhere, whatever the other may say.
And so he does. Breathe Out. And then In again. It’s loud, and so is the beating inside of him, still fast, still there, still taking over.
Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm.
Yoongi looks to his left. There he is. He looks tired, Yoongi can see it in the corners of his eyes peeking over the huge face mask he pulled over his face. His black bangs fall messily into his face, he’s wearing the baggiest, most unshaped clothes in weird brownish colours, and he is still the most beautiful person in the universe, inside and out.
They just look at each other. It’s cheesy, so sappy that a huge part of Yoongi just wants to make a snarky comment to get rid of this sappiness. But a huge part of him is so happy, so happy about Taehyung being there, about Taehyung holding his hand – oh, well, holding his pinky – about Taehyung looking at him with understanding sparkling in his eyes, with love, as if he deserves the world and more. He is happy about Taehyung being there for him, every day, every second.
He is happy that Taehyung’s heart is strong, beating inside this beautiful body of his and making it possible for them to be here, together. And if his own heart wasn’t beating, he would not be here, would not be able to enjoy that.
Is it getting slower?
Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm.
He can still hear it, but – it’s not the only thing he thinks of. And with every breath, it’s not the only thing he hears. And then, it’s not the only thing he feels. There is more. It’s strong, his heart, but there is more, it’s pulsing inside of him but it is not taking control of him.
He is alive, he is breathing, his heart is beating and he can still make the most of it. Enjoy every single heartbeat as much as he can. Tackle what scares him, what makes his heart beat so hard that that it drowns out everything else. He is strong, as strong as the muscle pulsing in his chest – or maybe even stronger.