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Seokjin's POV:

     I need to be so careful now that everyone knows. If I prove to them that I'm better now, maybe I can get my plan back on track. I will show them that I can do this, without any help.

     Everyone was persistent that I take one more day off, no matter how much I insisted that I was okay to go. I finally gave in and promised myself that I would have a productive day off. So here I am, fixing the fist shaped hole in our living room. The managers told us that they would be sending someone in, but I don't want to be anymore of a burden than I already am, so I opted to fix it myself. Plus, it was nice to keep myself distracted for a few hours.

     However, it wasn't likely the others would leave me home alone, so Jungkook volunteered to stay at the dorm with me. The maknae had tagged along to the hardware store, and it had taken quite a lot of convincing for him to let me fix the wall on my own. He finally gave in when I gave him the task of gluing together the vase he had broken, following a lecture of how you should take action to fix your own mistakes.

     I sit on the couch, waiting for the last layer of plaster to dry before painting. I'm scrolling through Twitter when Jungkook strolls into the room. "I can't do it hyung, there are too many small pieces!" I glance up and giggle at the pout  and puppy dog eyes on the grown man's face.

     "Just throw it out Kook, no one will miss it."

     No one will miss you.

     My heart sinks. It had been a good day, I have been relaxed and productive. But it's back, I shouldn't be surprised. Unluckily for me, Jungkook seems to notice my sudden change in character, despite my want to hide it.

     "Hyung? What's wrong." He takes a seat next to me, not failing to notice Twitter up on my phone screen. "Was it a hate comment? Don't listen to them! You can't believe what they say, they're just lying to bring us down."

     Burden.

     "I know Kookie, don't worry." I smile and ruffle his long curly locks, an action rewarded by his famous bunny smile we all adore. A rush of thoughts fill my mind as I can't help but wish I was as loved as our golden maknae. I hate to admit it, but I'm often jealous of the younger. The only thing that over powers the jealousy is knowing that he is deserving of it all, and I'm not.

     All you deserve is pain.

     Suddenly it's all I can thing about. Pain. The temptation takes over me and before I know it I'm standing up and leaving the room. "I'm going to go shower, I feel gross after all that work." I don't even stay to hear Kook's response.

     He doesn't care anyway.

     I waste no time once I get in the bathroom, quickly running through my checklist to make sure no one will know. Door locked. Water running. All stainable fabrics far away. I rip off my pants, revealing the healing cuts I had made the other day. I haven't been left alone since Yoongi has found the note, so to say I'm desperate to hold the blade against my skin again would be an understatement.

     Do it.

     Without a hesitation, I drag the flimsy metal across my pale skin. Shivers travel through my body, leaving me needing more. I continue to gently and slowly run the blade through my thigh, savouring every moment, every bead of blood, every shot of pain.

     Deeper.

     Engrossed by the euphoric sensation, I don't hesitate to submit to the voice. Ignoring the screaming pain, I push deeper, allowing streams of crimson red to decorate my thigh. I breath heavily, eyes squeezed shut, only followed by complete relief. My face and body relaxes, the grip on the blade becoming light, revealing the small cuts resembling paper cuts on my finger tip.

     Satisfied with my work, I put the blade back into it's rightful place and carefully step into the shower. The heat from the water turns my skin sensitive and red, but I don't notice as my attention is purely on the mixture of blood and water swirling down the drain. I smile softly, allowing myself to forget everything but this.

     "Seokjin, you are alive, you have feelings, you will be okay."

      The more I repeat this to myself, the less I believe it, the more stupid it sounds. I will only be okay once I'm not feeling anything, once I'm no longer alive.

     Do it then.

     I sigh, the moment being over, I get out of the shower.

     Once my thighs are bandaged and clothes are changed, I return to the living room and pick up the paint brush sitting on the coffee table. Seeing that the area to paint is only small, I quickly slap on a coat and return to the couch. Jungkook is no where to be seen and the others aren't meant to be home for a few hours, so I pick up the remote and begin flicking through Netflix.

     I'm about halfway through a movie that I honestly haven't been paying attention to, when Jungkook speaks from behind me.

     "Hyung?" I choose to ignore the concern laced in his voice, or the obvious hesitation.

     "Hey Kookie, what's up?" I smile up at him, pressing pause on the remote.

     He comes closer to me, seemingly unsure of what to do and face damp with what I can only assume are tears. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what I'm about to hear. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like it when people snoop around in your things, but I've been doing some research about depression and stuff cause I want to help you and honestly am clueless. I read that often people who are suicidal turn to self harm and when I thought about it, you take the longest showers out of everyone and always refuse change around anyone. So when you took an even longer shower than usual today I got worried and decided to take a look around the bathroom and I found your blades and bandages." The maknae has tears building in his eyes as he rants, barely breathing between his words. "I'm so sorry hyung, the others are on their way home."

     My mind is spinning as I try to process his words. All I can do is sit there and stare, heart beating a million miles a minute. It's over, if my plan was to convince them that I was okay, it's officially over, seemingly before I even got started. I'm a failure. My one source of relief, is going to be taken from me. This can't be happening. Then it hits me, they're on the way home. I can't handle a conversation about this, I will break. I can't do this to them again.

     They're going to take everything.
     Run away.

     "I need to get out of here." I mutter under my breath as I launch myself off of the couch.

     "Hyung, wait!" Jungkook calls after me, but I ignore him. Slipping on a pair of shoes and the first jacket I see, then rushing out the door.

     I run, faster than I have in a long time. In a way it feels nice, the cool autumn wind on my face, but it's ruined by the lump in my throat. I push it down, unwilling to let myself cry. I did this to myself after all, I don't deserve to cry.

     Stopping in front of an unfamiliar pub, I decide to go inside.

     "Maybe a few drinks will calm me down" I mumble to myself.
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"Deeper, deeper, the wound just gets deeper.
Like pieces of broken glass that I can't reverse.
Deeper, it's just the heart that hurts every day."

~Stigma, V
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A/N

I've always prided myself on my ability to portray realistic and in-depth description in stories and have always loved descriptive writing, but I've noticed in this story, description is lacking.
I find that I'm forcing myself to publish each chapter cause I know if I don't, I will continue to edit it until I decide not to publish it at all.
Maybe I'm simply more inspired by the overall plot than by individual scenes,
but I think I'm just getting too caught up in trying to publish regularly and not focusing on the writing itself.
I'm still planning on updating regularly and am just hoping everything will fall into place.
I'm sorry if the lack of description is boring and/or confusing

The A/N section that I originally planned not to include is slowly turning into a ranting section lmao

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