Starman | BTS 8th Member | *ੈ✩‧₊˚(editing)

82.

I thought leaving the room would make me calm down, that i would somehow not be enraged when i left. I tried to calm down, the corridors around me seemed to shift as i tried to fix my breathing. I heard laughing from around the corner and i recognised it to be the ones of namjoon, hoseok and taehyung. I wiped my eyes on the back of my sleeve, quickly dispersing before they could see me.

Whenever i feel to much at once, i always end up crying, you probably have noticed.

I cry at stupid times.

"i swear i just saw jisung?" i heard namjoon, very distantly.

"i would know if i saw the love of my life, namjoon" i heard hoseok yawn carelessly.

I couldn't help but smile at this.

"i swear, i saw his hoodie and his hair, it was sticking up at the back it had to he be him-" namjoon said desperately.

My hands flew to my head, flattening it, feeling self-conscious.

"you're seeing things mate." i heard taehyung mutter as i ran away.

The anxiety i had felt before, still remained.

I had felt so big when I stood up to him. But now, as i looked back at the memory, I felt small. Minuscule.

-

Yoongis studio was slightly messy. Wires slithered on the floor, joined by a stack of notebooks that i imagine had once been on his desk until they were all knocked over.

I smiled sadly as i saw yoongis little doodles in his notebooks.

A doodle of 2 people holding hands, one has green hair while the others quite long.

It took about 15 minutes to straighten everything out, the absences of yoongi made the room even colder and strangely empty. So the void in my chest widened.

Yoongis presence would usually fill the room, even when he had left for a moment, his warmth would still linger and you would feel comfortable in the knowledge that he would return.

Sometimes, we would stop doing work and just sit on his sofa. Especially recently, because it was so cold we would have to fuse together. With neither of our complaints.

I pushed his chair under his desk feeling heavy. Like everything was happening, that normal simple things were still going on. that in fact existed.

I frowned, desiding to distract myself, if only slightly. Yoongis least favourite

Task, which was sorting out paperwork. It was just the simple task of what needed to be thrown away or what needed to be kept.

He'd be thankful to return to no paperwork.

Especially when you have been ill. I'd personally throw myself away if that happened.

The room was so cold and i couldn't shake the feeling of paranoia. This could be put down to my disagreement, but it was so quiet. Without the hairdryer fans in the computer or the noise

Of someone existing, i felt lonely.

Like i was the only one in the building.

Then the heavy feeling.

I had stopped, mid throwing something away, my hand still hovering over the bin, completely zoned out.

My intense feelings hadn't been squashed. They haven't been squeezed into another box in my brain to be reviewed at a later date just yet.

I felt so sick. I felt so much so suddenly i felt like i wanted to crumble under the weight of it all.

I didn't know i was crying until the paper that was so still in my hands started to look like it was being rained on and that i suddenly couldn't read.