Syncopation | Yeongyu TXT

13

"Beomgyu!"

The shout tears from his throat, raw and urgent, shattering the eerie silence of the dorm.

Taehyun drops everything—backpack tumbling onto the floor, phone clattering forgotten to the carpet—and rushes forward, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.

Beomgyu's body is slumped awkwardly onto the bed, one arm dangling limp, fingertips brushing the floor. His face is ghostly pale, eyes half-lidded and glazed, unseeing. Chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps.

"No, no, no," Taehyun breathes, panic pulsing sharp and hot beneath his skin as he closes the gap between them. He carefully gathers Beomgyu into his arms, cradling his head gently against his own chest, one hand steadying his friend's trembling shoulders.

"Hey," Taehyun whispers urgently, voice breaking despite his attempt to steady it. "Gyu, it's me. It's Taehyun, okay? You're here with me. Just breathe."

Beomgyu's breaths come in shuddering gasps, erratic and uneven. His eyes flutter open briefly, unfocused, uncomprehending, but they close again almost instantly.

Taehyun's stomach twists with dread. He's seen Beomgyu anxious before, he's watched him quietly wrestle panic down countless times, but this—this is different. This is worse.

This feels dangerous.

He tightens his grip protectively, desperation seeping into his voice. "Beomgyu, come on. Breathe with me, okay? Slow down. Just follow me."

He deliberately slows his own breathing, forcing calm into his tone. "Inhale... two... three... four... hold... exhale... two... three... four..."

He repeats it over and over, a gentle, steady rhythm, his fingers lightly brushing Beomgyu's hair back from his clammy forehead. His thumb moves in soothing circles against his friend's temple, hoping that the familiar touch might anchor him.

Beomgyu shifts slightly in his grasp, a faint moan slipping from his lips, strained and broken. Taehyun leans closer, straining to hear as Beomgyu's voice trembles weakly, barely audible,
"Stop... everything... please."

The words slice deep into Taehyun's heart, raw with helplessness and pain. His chest aches fiercely—because he knows exactly what Beomgyu means. The chaos, the spotlight, the fear—everything they've inadvertently pushed him toward.

"I know," Taehyun whispers shakily, resting his forehead gently against Beomgyu's. "I know, Gyu. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But you gotta breathe first. Please."

Beomgyu's breaths stutter again, hitching painfully. His hands twitch, fingers gripping the fabric of Taehyun's jacket desperately, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

Taehyun feels his throat tighten, emotion thick and suffocating. He rocks them both slightly, slow and gentle, a soothing motion he hopes Beomgyu can feel even in this dark place he's fallen into.

"You're okay," he murmurs softly, fiercely, his voice breaking slightly on the words. "You're safe. I'm right here. It's just us. Just breathe."

Seconds crawl by painfully slow, silence stretching until the dorm room feels like a vacuum—fragile, easily shattered. Taehyun keeps whispering, voice steady now, careful and soft, guiding Beomgyu through the breaths again and again.

Slowly, gradually, he feels Beomgyu's breathing start to match his own, shallow gasps smoothing into trembling, deeper inhales. The rapid heartbeat beneath Taehyun's fingertips slows incrementally, just enough to ease the razor-edged panic in his own chest.

He doesn't move, doesn't loosen his hold—not yet. He simply keeps whispering, keeps holding on, because he knows Beomgyu's fight isn't over yet. Not by far.