Cut the strings and set me free

Part 2- threads that entangle

Will we truly let her slide away from reach like this?

Will I truly sit back and watch the girl I'd seen grow into a woman, watch the beautiful fierce burning flame flicker out and be extinguished, become shackled to a life she didn't want? Was I going to let our chance at happiness together, as the three of us disintegrate and crumble?

"Jiminie, I need to know if she's okay. I need to know if she's hurting, and if she is that she's not suffering alone." Tae mumbles, straightening up, stumbling as he gets to his feet, swaying as if he's inebriated, as if he's losing grip over his senses, his body- eyes shining with held back tears.

I nod, gripping at his sleeve as I pull myself upright, tempted to lean into his warmth for a second longer but the two of us slowly make our wa back to the doors that lead to her chambers, dither uncertainly- my heart aches with the possibility of her rejection, of her pushing us away and telling us to leave.

If that happened I wouldn't be able to bear it. I would beg, fall to my knees and clutch onto her, try to reach for her. I needed her. And she needed us. But if she tried to be strong in front of us, try to not shatter and crumble when we'd long since vowed to be the one's to build each other up, then I felt as if my heart would shatter and that slowly my soul would die, because it meant that she was trying to separate herself from us, that she no longer connected us with comfort.

And as selfish as it seemed, I didn't ever want that connection to fade.

I push open the door, slowly entering- Tae right behind me, and the soft click echoes in the ominous silence, and the cold wind that greets us is harsh and biting, nipping unforgivingly at our heated skin.

I frown at the way the curtains flutter and ruffle with the wind brushing through them, windows opened and ajar- it was awfully chilly in here.

And yet it's nothing compared to the way I feel my insides freeze and disintegrate into an internalised chill that seeps into my bones when I enter her bed chambers to be greeted with the vulnerable sight of her tucked under the layers of blankets, fingers fisted into the sheets. And as we gravitate closer, I hear each splintering shard of my heart colliding with the ground when I spot tear-stains fresh on her cheeks, face smoothened out in sleep.

"Oh honey..." I whisper, slowly sinking down on one edge of the bed, drawing my legs up, hands hastily tugging off my boots as I shift closer to her, eyes roving over the exhaustion her sleeping figure holds, the pained vulnerability- looking so small and fragile under the covers.

How on earth could I ever compare my pain to hers? How could I feel myself shatter when this brave, beautiful, stupidly strong girl stood strong and tall?

"(Y/N)...oh my darling doll." Tae whispers hoarsely, voice breaking and tears slipping free once he lies down beside her, on top of the blankets, body curved towards her- as if hoping to protect her, become another layer of protection, of safety- large hand going to trace over the course her tears took, brushing her hair back and wincing.

"You'll get a cold if you sleep with damp hair and an open window. How many times do I need to say that?" he says to her sleeping figure, unwillingly departing from her to rush about closing the windows, bringing back with him a small towel, shifting her carefully so her head rests on his lap as he carefully towels each strand dry, one hand supporting her.

My heart aches at the soft intimacy of the gesture, of the way his hand cradles the back of her head and his body curves protectively over her.

He can't seem to keep his hands away, flitting constantly over her and finally he dares to lower his head close enough to brush a kiss to her temple, gently repositioning her back- assuming his initial position.