"I just couldn't resist."
"Only sacred things deserve to be messed with."
It all ended with a dead kid near the train tracks.
Six years later, the story repeats itself and two long-forgotten friends might find out that when death tries to play match...
- Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away -
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The afternoon is well-advanced yet the rain is still thundering against the roof, cascading from the sky in a thick, undying shower. The drops are steady and strong, piercing as they wet the windows and slither down the glass in small streams. The scenery outside is glossy, matte photography changed to a lively lustrous tint like a coat of varnish was applied to the grass and the trees.
Meanwhile, inside the comfort of my house, I'm in the kitchen making artisanal bread. There is flour all over the floor as well as on myself, and I am currently throwing the dough against the counter over and over again, putting all of my rage into the way I slap it and knead it violently. The kitchen island vibrates every time I fling the mixture against the wood, and I then fold it and punch it, creating a ball that I can rough up all over again.
A burning furor eats my insides, and this is the way I found to let it out.
Of course, all of this anger is directed at one person only: me.
Truly, I hate myself so much in this moment.
Occasionally, at night, I lay in my bed, incapable of sleeping because all of the most embarrassing, stupidest things I have ever done come back to my mind and make it impossible for me to dream peacefully. Like that one time there was an open casket in the showroom, and everyone was crying, and I let out the loudest, juiciest fart while passing by.
But today is just... on another level. The icing on the cake. The cherry on top. The cream of the crop. Winning the contest of my lowest, most pathetic moments with no competition at all.
I can still see it in my head, that moment in the stairs when I passed beside Taehyung and his breath fanned over my face. I was suddenly hot all over, my heart pounding fast in my chest while my throat was as dry as sandpaper. The hair rose on my arms when his body grazed mine and I suddenly yearned to be kissed, my lips practically begging to be embraced, the kind of need that was so intense it completely paralyzed me. That was until he fulfilled my wish, his perfect mouth colliding with mine in a moment of pure deliverance.
And then it was like fireworks behind my eyelids; an explosion of sensations washing over me in thick intoxicating waves, crashing down and making it impossible for me to let go. It truly felt deliciously good, and just thinking about it now makes a shiver of satisfaction run up my spine.
I throw the loaf of bread against the counter, eyes stinging as I remember how my knees literally buckled when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, my body going weak and melting like a tub of butter under his touch. It was magical, the way he held me tightly against his chest and softly gasped, making me perceive with every touch how much he wanted my body, only a pale echo of the devastating need for him I felt in my bones at that moment.
But I had to stop it.
I had to, because suddenly behind my closed eyelids, Hoseok's figure had appeared, breaking the spell to only make me feel one overbearing emotion: guilt.
