The Last Of Us | tk ✓

twenty-nine | it is what it is

A MILE OFF FROM
DAEJEON, S. KOREA.
12:13 PM, 28th September.

She was agile, her placid frame spilling out of Jeongguk's stagnant arms. Taehyung toiled to conceal his ruptured soul, wavering turmoil of feelings weakening his kneecaps as he snaps the shovel in the soil with finality, heaving himself up from the grave as the fiery sun hung above them in the clearest of skies.

The apartments were a long way behind, their persistence to not face the horde of seething hunters coercing them to outdistance the lot farthest they could, which resulted in their rest-stop to be a grim old village-like place, mud and hay hut, of sorts. The stony pathway outside turned to gullies for columns of tiny shacks aligned; a barren locality.

Ample of grass brushed their shuffling soles in the space they both stood, in the shade of the little shed, with their moist cheeks' sheen and hands clutched tight at the back, silent till the last tear slips down to dampen the drying soil.

Time goes, like the flutter of wings batting against the metal of a bleeding cage.  A hiccup squeaks out of Jeongguk. His lips pursed tightly, nose blotched red. With chest weighing as much as tonnes of bricks, drowning him in his own hurtling thoughts, he retrieves, striding back inside the cool shelter of the clay house.

Taehyung stays back, pondering, in a deep reverie, at how Hara's demise shifted Jeonnguk's spirit. He has been discerning a gradual process of temperament variation since Areum. Yet, he sensed a prominent, discriminate idiosyncrasy that has bloomed within the older boy. He shuffles in the latter's wake quietly.

Jeonnguk stands facing the vacuous, greying wall, hands on his waist. Taehyung halts a few, good centimeters away from him, conferring  as soliciting as his heavy voice could render; "Tell me what you are thinking, Jeongguk." The jagged slope of his spine is evident through the jet black shirt the other is fashioned in. More softly, Taehyung utters, "Please." His words seem to hang in the air before Jeonnguk rejoins, steadily, in a low murmur. 

"Feels like... feels like the things going around me, they are some kind of, I dunno, indication..." He is barely audible, but it's comprehensible with his rushed confide, crystal clear even, "I think we should take a detour to my brother's." He exhales, like a large boulder he has been carrying slipped off his shoulder, twisting to gaze candidly at Taehyung. "That okay with you, bud?" 

"Yeah, of course," Taehyung warily prompts, the click of events almost sound in his skull. Losing Areum, well, he knows all too well what a friend's death's anguish is. However, Namjoon, so impotent and woeful without Hara, might have flared up a part in Jeongguk's cerebrum that acknowledged Hoseok's dread. 

And it's totally out of the blue when Jeongguk's there, clasping Taehyung's nape with remarkable delicacy. "Thank you," he breathes with a small grin swinging on his soft, soft lips. He rests his slightly moist mouth between Taehyung's handsome brows, for two magical seconds, where Taehyung has his eyes shut, inhaling hungrily the sweet cologne he loves.

In, out; his lungs feel trapped, his fast beating heart thumping oh-so loudly in his throat: Jeongguk's hands are resting on his hips. His Cupid's bow gradually glides down the fall of Taehyung's nose, whose eyes are shy, motionless where they stood, a mere make-out away. Their lips are nearly touching.

Jeongguk observes the younger's incompetence to partake in this little, sultry showcase of endearment. He chimes, lighter than feather, breath sweeping the bronze skin hairs on Taehyung's face, "Hey," sweet and seductive, "I'm not gonna bite you. Do I bite you when you stare at me for so long it turns me on?" He knows there remains no peripheral barrier to pull him back from dragging Taehyung to a wall and fuck him till dawn, so his satanic smirk pops up like a fucking party-crasher, "Or maybe I will."

Taehyung scrutinized his dulling boots. "Jeongguk." He initiated, muttering distinctly forthwith, "You don't have to." When he lifted his regard, his eyes are glimmering, large and beautiful, gulping and clutching Jeongguk's hands in his to pluck them off his slightly quivering stance. "You can't shun your pain and reap too late you are drowning in it." Jeongguk's vacant mien holds too less of a profession to conclude his demeanour, and Taehyung proceeds, almost leisurely, "You can't deny you are falling. How will you pick yourself up, then, when you aren't even aware?"

His palpation is receding to its normal rate. Briskly, he withdrew, achieving the ability to keep his emerging smile casted upon Jeongguk, the older in a state of wonderment and reflection.

No, Taehyung is not leaving Jeongguk high and dry. It took him much tussle to basically propound the idea, he has none how much it may take physically to evade Jeongguk's intoxicating individuality. He has to not be selfish and, alongside solacing him, give him the advocate expanse to ameliorate his thinking space.

Half an hour prior, Taehyung taps the swept area on the stony, upraised, sun-baked bed, inviting Jeongguk to rest since they have been on the run for more than a day, cruel bruises painted on their bodies, hands raw with yielding their weapons for so long. The thick chadar beneath him wrinkles and swells up in hills with his fidgeting. After he quits wriggling, Taehyung silently, discreetly tucks him in.

He mumbles demurely, mutely, shifting his ashy brown locks from his view, "We have to cover a lot of ground, Jeongguk." The other one nods curtly, eyes locked unto him. "You sleep well, mm? I will do my best as a lookout." He fondled with his scoured knife, that gleamed devilishly. He used it not much, and noticed Jeongguk frowning at it.

"Where'd you get that?"

Taehyung unveiled blatantly, "My friend gave it to me. Back in Busan. Long before Sam." He shuffles to his feet, rising. He passes one last, short smile to Jeongguk, doesn't awaits a response, and treads to the low door, a wasp nest buzzing casually right above. The sunlight shone the cobwebs silver on the walls, butterflies gliding in and out of vision.

Jeongguk peers at Taehyung for ages, until he visualized that it was not him alone who had to swim through the blood of his loved ones, furious at himself for criticising the former in the past, remorse digging in his nerves as he recounts those moments where he was wrong.

Beating himself to his last thoughts, his sleep finally overcomes him, peaceful at last.

__

[unEdited ASF]

i have three
(3) stuffs to talk
bout.

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pls, all the black
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matter. im doing
my part as is,
and i suggest
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too. tap on the link
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out.

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take care, u,
and take care
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xx