celestial strings | h.js

two.

Desperately, he held in his tears. He almost looked ugly doing so; his neck ached from looking at the sky whenever he felt the swelling in his eyes, the muscles of his cheeks stretched as he forced a smile onto his face to decrease his desire to sob, and he would not let himself breathe as he needed to. He suffocated in helplessness; he was suffocating in uselessness. He could only rock himself back and forth with you being fragile in his arms.

The ache in his chest was not tolerable. He despised it. He should have never asked you to stay for him. He should have made a promise to find you instead. He should have heard you out. He should have apologized early. He should never have gotten upset. He should never have been selfish. If you were never his soulmate, it would have been for a reason; his perceived unworthiness owned a strong presence in your relationship. It made sense for you both to be without a link. It made sense.

The universe did make an incompetent choice, but it was on your part that it left a mistake.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, this is all my fault," Jisung whispered as he looked down at you.

You opened your eyes to hint that you received his words. Endearment rushed to the top of your head, and your eyes started to fawn over Jisung's face. There was tenderness in his tears and snot, the redness of his face, and the wetness of his lashes. There was love in his ugliness, and there was love in his willingness to show you his ugliness. He was ugly, and your heart leaped because you were enamoured with him.

"Silly boy," you exhaled.

He was but a child. You were, too, just a child. None of all of this was any of your fault. Children should never blame themselves for an adult's mistake, even if they had loved them.

"You've got a cut on your cheek. Does it hurt?" you asked.

"I cannot feel it," he replied with several curt nods, holding you closer. He didn't even know he got injured. "I can only feel yours."

You pulled your lips into a thin line once you were aware of your sour arms. They felt much better now that you ceased the magic, but the permanent stitch your family heritage held around your body would continue to deal you blows until someone came around to tank it for you. Your consciousness brushed past the strings, and you relaxed for the wave of depression that dropped over your head.

You wished your parents were here. You wished your uncle would wake up. You wished Minho would appear with a change of heart. You wished magic could have been taught to you, and you wished you did not have to learn it at your pace. You wished you were more knowledgeable, and you wished you were stronger. You wished you had someone capable of handling this situation to cry to. You wished your family did not leave you things that could hurt as their parting gift.

You wished you had help because, for the first time, you were truly helpless.

There was nothing you could do now but hope things turn out for the better.

You wished it did not have to come to this.

Dust collected around the ground without you noticing. There was no warning when you were suddenly blown back a few feet. You coughed against the floor once you stopped dragging. You could feel the blood through your possibly ripped clothes, your arms began surging with blood against the friction, and you hurt all over. Your head hammered, your eyes were infiltrated with dirt, and your lips went bitter and dry. You hurt all over. You wanted to die.

Jisung was no longer beside you, and unfortunately, you knew too well the source of the sudden and very generous explosion. Scrambling to get up, you barely pulled yourself together so you could look around in search of his body. You squinted your eyes, your head turning left and right, then you finally caught sight of a fallen figure once the fog began to vanish. You choked up in shock with widened eyes and tumbled forward clumsily in an attempt to stand up.