Loss | Kim Taehyung

000: undoing.

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UNDOING

seo inha could've been everything.

the epitome of sweet smiles and killer charms. the equivalent of adrenaline. could've been the thrill of sneaking out of the house late at night for the very first time, the heart fluttering feeling you get when you hold that one person's hand as the two of you run off into the night. the rush as you hit the gas pedal and speed along the highway, windows down and wind blowing in your face as you felt the night air on your fingertips.

she could've been all of those things.

but she was his. and she didn't want to be anything or anyone else. it was perfect.

until he slipped away from her grasp in the blink of an eye.

he had been her late night thrill, the butterflies in her stomach as they held hands, her rush as they sneaked into abandoned territory. he was her anchor, because inha had big dreams. she lived in the clouds and without him, she wouldn't be able to come down. he kept her sane, kept her down on the ground and able to face reality.

he was everything she couldn't live without.

and she loves–loved, him. very, very much. maybe even more than she loved herself.

the undoing of seo inha happened at night time. this, however, was no bedtime story.

it was late, roughly around 12.30 a.m. when inha was walking down the street that led to his apartment. she had been working the late shift, ended up stopping for a few glasses of soju alone because why the fuck not? might've looked like she was single and lonely and sad but she was none of those things and that had been the point. to drink alone, but at the end of the night she wouldn't be and everyone else can go fuck theirselves.

inha walked, rather tipsy and light-headed. she had intended to go straight to her apartment but since his was on the same street as hers, inha thought it wouldn't hurt to pay him a little visit. she missed him anyways, they didn't get to see each other for more than a few hours that day and she longed to be in his embrace. so she staggered into his apartment building, climbed up the flight of stairs with aching feet and cursed at herself for deciding to wear heels in the morning.

she stood in front of his door and fumbled her purse for the keys. he had given her a spare all those years ago. she unlocked the door and stepped inside, taking of her heels like she was home and in some ways she was. his arms were her home and his cuddles and kisses and his soft hand and the glint in his eyes whenever he saw her and fuck—

she was so in love.

"jimin," she whispered softly. it was unlikely that he was asleep. jimin had always been a night-owl, but she didn't want to wake him up if he was so she was being careful. the whole apartment was dark. she tiptoed past the kitchen, the living room, and to his bedroom where she could see light seeping through the opening below.

"jimin?" she spoke loudly this time. no answer came from the other side of the door so she carefully turned the handle, door creaking as she opened it slightly, ready to slip into bed with him and his warmth and comfort.

but the first thing she saw was red.

red all over the white sheets. the floor. the table lamp. it stained the room, and for a split second inha wasn't sure what to make of it, convinced herself that she wasn't that drunk to be seeing things.

until she saw the boy lying face-first on the carpeted floor, arms sprawled on his side. the same hue of red staining his temple and formed a small pool right next to his head. and then metallic smell finally hit her senses and she wanted to puke.

park jimin definitely wasn't awake, but inha wasn't sure if sleeping would be the correct term either.

the next few moments were a blur. the next thing she knew, she was crouching over his lifeless body with a cry bubbling up her throat. one word screaming in her pounding head. why?

she angled his head, hot tears brimming her eyes as she brought her shaking hands to his face. her fingers were wet with his blood. why?

she took it all in between chokes and sobs. his opened and empty eyes, his outstretched hand, and the gun that glinted just a few centimeters across. why?

jimin wasn't selfish. far from it. all those times he lent her his car for the day because hers broke down and even though she told him she would be okay, he had said that he insisted. that one time he ditched game night with his boys because she had fallen sick, and she told him to go have fun instead because she would be okay but he ended up on her doorstep with soup and the promise of cuddles.

jimin wouldn't leave inha. not for anything or anyone else. he would drop anything and everything when it came to her. she had been his weakness as he was hers.

so why?

jimin wasn't selfish. but maybe he was broken. and inha had been to blinded by her love too notice the boy crumbling.

the boy could've been dead a long time ago and inha was too lovestruck to realize. that's what made it hurt the most. because she could've prevented this.

unlike most frightening stories, the undoing of seo inha didn't end with a chill down the spine, or the fright every time you closed your eyes afterwards, fearing what lurks in the corners of the dark. no, it ended with sobs into his shirt, his limp hand in hers, and the muffled apologies for the way things could've been and should've been. her hand shook as it reached for her phone in her pocket. pressed in the numbers she never thought she would use, and tried to keep her voice stable so the person on the other line would be able to hear her clearly and come quick.

though perhaps it would've made no difference.

somewhere in the distance, inha heard the wailing of sirens as they get clearer and clearer by the second. it mirrored her screams.

she had been drinking just an hour before, and she was tired and dizzy and her body ached. heart ached. so her sobs faded along her whole body until she could almost feel herself slowly disintegrate into nothing. she felt nothing.

the only thing she felt was her fist gripping his white shirt and her forehead on his chest, what's left of her tears streaming down her cheeks.

seo inha could've had everything.

but her epitome of everything of had been park jimin. and now that he was gone, the only thing she had was this empty space inside her that minute she laid eyes on his lifeless body on the floor and his blood-stained temple.

the space where her heart used to be.

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a/n: nah man this ain't a jimin fic he's obviously dead [sorRY] but he sure plays a big role though. i'm not sure how i feel about this. sorry for any mistakes!