✔ Save me ⌇⌇ JHS + OC

⦃13⦄

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Trigger warning in this chapter.

If you feel uncomfortable reading heavier scenes related to mental and emotional health and panic attacks, skip to the next one.

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APARTMENT 302

The sound of the slamming door still echoed in her brain, and an explosion of feelings tormented the young woman. Her tear-streaked face contorted into expressions of anger, frustration, and grief.

She hated that she had made that argument about her. She hated that she had thrown Hoseok out like that. She hated that he hadn't opened up to her. She hated that he hadn't stayed and insisted on her. 

She hated that she was so weak and dumb and insensitive and horrible. She hated everything about herself, every little bit of it. She hated her personality, her voice, her hair, her eyes, her smile, her body, her hands. She hated her head more than anything, and the voices screaming non-stop inside her how hateful and worthless she was.

Her breathing had been irregular for quite some time, and she felt like she was going to die. Her cries of despair were muffled by the pillow that pressed against her face, cutting off her breathing. She knew she should go to her room to take medication. She knew she needed help, but she hated herself so much for being so weak that at that moment she just prayed that death would take her.

Nestled on the couch, she tried to muffle everything out; the sounds in her mind and the sounds in her throat. 

Somehow it knocked her down. 

She couldn't remember if it was exhaustion or if she had fainted from the breakdown in her respiratory flow, she just remembered waking up with a huge migraine and her face all taut from dry tears.

Feeling a little dizzy, Shin Soo got up from the couch and crept across the apartment to the bathroom, where she washed her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her appearance was a wreck, but now she was numb. 

She had cried it all out, exhausted her feelings to the point that she couldn't feel anything anymore. The same effect that her medication was having on her.

Still dragging her feet on the floor she left the bathroom to go towards her room, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the shadow of something at the entrance of the apartment, which made her pause. 

Slowly she turned her face and stared at the trash bag that Hobi was supposed to have taken away, but didn't because of the way she treated him. With that simple reminder, Soora collapsed again.

She had no more tears to cry but was flooded again with feelings of guilt, frustration, and anger at being so fragile and unable to take out the trash on her own. 

In an angry and determined march, she went to the entrance, grabbed the bag, and put her hand on the doorknob opening the door without a single thought, determined to do that simple service alone. 

 However, the sound of laughter on the stairs of the building woke her up to her reality. The reality in which she couldn't cross paths with anyone without having a panic attack.