pretty boy | taekook

doodled skin

chapter thirty-five ;; doodled skin
jeongguk's perspective
°☆.。.:*・°☆

The pen effortlessly drew across skin. Black ink shined against tan, a sight that only my eyes could enjoy. A permanent pen held in one hand with an arm held in the other. I held Taehyung's arm by the wrist, and it was close to my body as concentration was brought through the whole scene. A moment to make something unappealing to most pretty once more.

His eyes glazed across everything, from the black ink gliding across his arm with the flick of my hand, to the fairylights that didn't shine any longer. He read the poetry on wrinkled paper, the words that had flown out of my brain, just like the ink onto his bruised skin. They were of sorrow, pain, and anger, some scribbled and others in mastered cursive. Either way, the words correlated in a hard to understand manner. Mastered adjectives for sophisticated synonyms, and descriptions of weakness conjured up of too many nights spent alone.

Taehyung hesitantly grabs the pen from my dainty fingers that shook, although thin and clean lines were still able to be created through the tip. After placing the plastic next to me on the white comforter on my bed, he grabs for my pale hand that was almost translucent from being so white. The name Snow White had been said earlier by the one staring down, and it was a name that I rather enjoyed for myself. His coarse hand loosely grips my own, flipping it to where my palm is uplifted without a word.

Quick eyes scan over the surface with wrinkles of nature and cracks of inflicted. Red seethed through the white, bumps for scabs. Blue thumbtacks were the cause, brushing them up against my fingertips while deeply thinking of what to put down on paper. It had been an accident, my mind putting off the stinging all together while in a perfect moment for writing. The grip I held on his wrist was gone once he moved it away.

Instead of letting go of my forearm, he holds me by the wrist and allows blue thumbtack marks to brush against his lips that used to be so smooth and flawless, now covered in cracks where blood seeped out not too long ago. Taehyung held them against his mouth with closed eyes, mumbling words that were almost impossible to understand.

He looks absolutely stunning through it all, bangs that almost needed to be trimmed falling over his eyelids with a slumped posture. It looked so natural, so like him. I had the urge to reach out and touch his face, to make sure that the one in front of me was in fact real. It was almost as if Taehyung was praying, for that was impossible since he found it useless by now. He told me that he had nothing to pray for.

"My worry over you scares me. Even with new bruises and lost friendship, I can't make myself be mad at you, not for a second." Taehyung whispers, eyes remaining closed and speaking against my fingertips that remained at his mouth, "I have lost many things from being around you, but I come out everyday thanking whatever is up there for still allowing me to have you." He takes in a wavering breath as my own lips begin to tremble, "It's all fluff, a chance that is bound to be met with a bad ending. We're still teenagers, and we're already acting like this with one another."

"It's a perfect time of life to do such things as this. A distraction from ruining our own lives by parties and drugs is the only thing we need, but you're far more than just a distraction." I explain in greater detail.

Taehyung lets out a soft hum, the vibrations running through my fingertips and to my irregular heart beat, "Seokjin started the fight." Taehyung admits, "He was mad at me for leaving you alone." He begins to move the thumb on his unoccupied hand against my thigh, "I was already angered with myself, so my mind did nothing to fight back the urge of punching him. That's exactly what I did. He wanted a fight, so I threw the first punch."