Work Text:
Jeongguk’s body can’t move. Fingers leave wispy trails over his tear-stained cheeks. Jeongguk’s supposed to be asleep, however roused by the harsh clattering of long-since silenced cracked porcelain. His mind tells him to move, but his body refuses to listen. The fingers feel like the familiar scratch of blades over his skin.
Jeongguk’s body can’t move. The soft touch of fingers leave scars over his wrists, over his forearms, nudging itself into the crooks of his elbows. Jeongguk’s supposed to be asleep, however woken by the distant screaming of distressed voices several floors above. The fingers make the hairs on his nape stand up.
Jeongguk’s body can’t move. The rough pressure of fingers leave marks on the pale skin of his throat, marring it with bruises. Jeongguk’s supposed to be asleep, however woken by the heavy breathing of another. The fingers make Jeongguk’s breathing choke up.
Jeongguk’s body can’t move. The heavy pressure of fingers press imprints onto his thighs. Jeongguk’s supposed to be asleep, but today, he can see.
Jeongguk can’t blink. His eyelids refuse to follow his weak commands. Jeongguk bleeds, shivers, chokes, but this time, he can see the figure that’s doing it to him.
There’s nothing there.