celestial strings | h.js

two.

"Fuck–fuck! Damn it!" you choked out the yells, your fists reaching up to knock on your head. Jisung was looking weaker by the second, urging you to get a move on.

You ran your tentative hands over your bloodied arms, your lips pursing to hold back the sobs as you looked around at nothing. Your skin felt tight, strangled, like blades lodged between your flesh. It would be painful to heal Jisung. At this rate, you would die saving him, and you would die if you do not save him. In front of this double-edged sword, the only privilege given was a choice to make—do you kill only one of you, or the both of you?

"Okay..." You told yourself to get over it, and you did.

Placing your hands over his face, you smiled down at Jisung. He was staring back at you. Maybe he was just looking in hopes that he wouldn't forget, hoping he could break all odds of the universe and remember you somehow. His eyes hazed out when you leaned down to douse his face with feather-like kisses. He held your hand, feeling the faintest smile overcoming him. If you had no plans to save him, he thought this would be the best way to go.

"I'm not breaking the string, okay? I'm going to heal you," you hummed against his assumption and removed your hand from his face. You moved it down to his abdomen in preparation.

After you chanted, you could feel the magic in your hands vibrating. Immense power was released, and more importantly, your strings were angry. They clenched around your skin, slicing through your tissues and causing your injuries to squirt blood. You doubled over at the pain but kept your hands flat against Jisung's body, waiting and waiting for the pain to fade as an indication that the healing was done. You kept your body lurched forward just in case of fainting; if you did faint, your hands would still be on him, hopefully healing even beyond your passing.

Your eyes were beginning to see white when the ringing in your ears and the squeezing of strings around your arms stopped abruptly.

Jisung felt blood rush into his head again. His eyesight was unburied by fog, and his breathing returned naturally to him once more. You healed him—oh lord, you healed him! Sitting up, he was prepared to lung himself at you when, with a plop, you dropped forward onto his lap. His gaze shifted immediately when he saw the dark red color that adorned your arms. He was no expert, but they looked like fresh blood.

"[Name]...?" You did not respond.

"[Name]?" His voice quickened in its pitch. He jerked up, putting his hands on your shoulders, and pulled you to his chest.

Your eyes were shut, and you felt lifeless, easy to throw around. Jisung touched his hand to your arm and flinched at the cutting sensation. Blood seeped through the cushion of his index finger, paired with a feverous heat he felt upon coming in contact with the strings on your arms. He looked at his hand and down at you, at your arms that had fallen to your side, and sighed shakily. If your strings were submerged into your skin with such sharpness and heat, they would eventually kill you. He has to do something.

Before Jisung knew it, he threw himself into a spiral loop similar to yours a minute ago.

Should he call the police? How long would it typically take an ambulance to arrive? What if you die between now and the help arriving? He should call for help anyway! It would be better than nothing, wouldn't it?

Jisung hoisted you onto his back but stumbled when he lost balance and dropped you on the floor. He cut his skin when he haphazardly reached for your arms to hold you, causing him to wince. Ignoring the pain, he reached for you again and attempted to throw you over his shoulder so he could run to somewhere with lights, but he was weak against your dead weight. He already knew that. Dragging at you repeatedly was a delusional act he could not afford to give up on.