CH. XIX

18.8K 809 1K
                                    

⋆ ☄︎. · ̊ * 🔭
chapter nineteen

 · ̊ * 🔭chapter nineteen

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

My breathing is heavy as my body shoots up into a sitting position

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

My breathing is heavy as my body shoots up into a sitting position.

Fortunately, I wasn't screaming so the boys don't know that I had another nightmare.

I don't want them to worry about me. They already have their own problems and struggles, so I don't want to burden them anymore.

The clock on the wall tells me that it's 4:21 a.m. in the morning.

Since I have a lot of time left, I take the notebook that Namjoon has given me out of my suitcase and grab myself a pen.

Opening the black book, my hands go over the papers. Crisp and clean, not a mark on its almost sparkling surface.

Brand new edges so straight and sharp even a sword could not be compared to its glistening beauty.

I'm getting more and more eager to write on the paper before I allow my imagination to take over.

Maybe this will really help to deal with my feelings better.

The pen is smaller than an inch away from the paper but my hands refuse to write something.

Breathing in and out, I relax my body.

My thoughts are filled with all the memories, losses, and my life in general and soon the once completely white paper has many different black words written on it.

"When I'm with you I'm in dystopia..." are the lady lyrics that I say out loud to see if it rhymes with the rest of it.

And it does. Finishing the text, I feel relief and repose in my chest.

"What are you writing there?"

Startling at the new voice, my eyes widen as I gaze at Hoseok. "N-Nothing," I answer rather quickly, making him squint his eyes in suspicion.

"Why are you awake? Didn't you sleep?" He asks me worriedly, sitting down on the sofa beside me while I swiftly place the notebook under my pillow.

𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎. Where stories live. Discover now