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Opening the door to his apartment, Jisung entered, with the welcoming sound of a loud groan and shout coming from the living room.
"Fuck! Make it stop!"
Jisung quickly took his shoes off, racing out of the entryway and into the living room. Where he was met with the sight of Mark helplessly trying to calm Jaemin down, who was a mess in Marks's arms. His hair, disheveled more than usual and tear-streaked face evident with pain and discomfort.
"Oh thank god," Mark breathed, relief taking over his features at Jisung's arrival.
Scurrying into the kitchen, Jisung grabbed a cloth running it over the tap, then wringing it out. He quickly made his way back to the scene. "Hyung, lay him down," Jisung instructed.
Jaemin kept making incoherent sounds as Mark followed Jisungs order, laying Jaemin on the couch. Jisung gently placed the damp towel over the pained boy's forehead. Watching as his eyes shut tight.
"Urrghh... Shit," Jaemin panted. He could feel his heartbeat thumping throughout his whole body. Listening to the different voices running through his mind at an unbearable volume.
Jaemin was born with a rare ability to read minds. He wasn't the only one he knew sharing the same ability, but the difference was that he had little to no control over it. He never knew how to turn it off, having to live with the constant voices of people's thoughts in his head. When Jaemin reached the age of fifteen, his ability grew stronger and a new problem arose. The voices became too much to handle, causing episodes like these to occur, making the boy restless.
"Is that even helping him?" Mark questioned over Jaemins groans. Jisung shrugged his shoulders in return, keeping his eyes on Jaemin. Mark heaved a sigh, running his hands down his face. "We need to get a hold of Doyoung," He indicated, earning a nod from Jisung.
"I'll try Taeyong's number, he should be done teaching by now," Jisung informed. Taking out his phone from his jeans, he dialed the said male's number. After a few rings, the call went to voice mail, stressing the boy further. "Dammit." Jisung threw his phone on the coach by Jaemins feet, running a hand through his hair. As Mark sat on one of the single sofas in the room.
None of them said a word, the only sounds filling the room were coming from the distressed boy, yelling curses from time to time. The two boys couldn't do anything to help their friend, besides just being there for him.
After some time, Jaemin's whines grew quiet. The voices in his head and the pain finally subsiding. They were still there annoying as ever, but they were bearable to the boy.
Sitting up on the couch, Jaemin grabbed the glass of water sitting on the coffee table for him, provided by Mark. Then began Chugging the contents as if he had run a marathon.
