space
space.
eeteuk-centric (implied kibum/eeteuk) / pg-13 for themes and angst probably
you don't always get exactly what you wish for.
eeteuk can count more times that he's been sad than the times he's been happy. he decides to shrug it off at first, delicately putting it on the shelf housing things that aren't really so important like the fact that he doesn't like to eat anymore unless he feels completely empty. emptiness and space always make him feel so guilty and lonely. more guilty the first time he eats a whole carton of ice cream in one sitting; more lonely as he sits in the bathroom afterward and rakes his nails over skin and bone, sharply up over his jaw and into his throat. he likes to see how long he can brave the lonely feeling in his stomach because that means that he's not so scared of space (and empty fragments of what used to be) anymore. he sits and waits for someone to hear him or for someone to tell him to stop. no one comes. he's really not used to feeling so lonely.
eeteuk can count how many times he's had food in the past week even though he doesn't really have to count at all. it feels like another mile stone and although he can hear ringing in his ears, he thinks he should be proud of himself. models don't have to eat anyway. it's his inside joke but he doesn't laugh, he just tucks it that much farther inside. kibum hears him that night but kibum doesn't get to the door fast enough because everything is already gone.
"you're sick, hyung?"
"no," he replies as a hand ghosts over the rise of his spine. "i just feel empty."
eeteuk can count the number of times kibum's chest rises and falls that night, but he's too busy remembering that kibum doesn't even live with them anymore. he wonders when everyone else will leave him by himself- cold and desolate with his back turned to the world. according to the rumble in his stomach, he has a lot longer to train before he's used to forever.
"you're already up," kibum's voice is thick and groggy and eeteuk reaches up to smooth the hair around his ruffled features.
"i have to be," he grins and lets his eyelashes flutter down against his cheeks.
(he thinks about dying when kibum looks at him like he's beautiful and wonders if anyone will notice when there are soft kisses pressed against his eyelids.)
eeteuk can't count the number of feathers that fall as he struggles with the wings on his back. they're all dirty and they make the creases of his palms bleed but he keeps pulling them out anyway. the sound of his sobs echo around him, resounding in his ears and taking up all the space. he knows that he can't stay here. he doesn't want these wings and he doesn't want to be an angel anymore.
(silence overtakes him and for the first time, eeteuk notices that his heart isn't beating anymore and when he looks around himself, all he can see is space.)
eeteuk-centric (implied kibum/eeteuk) / pg-13 for themes and angst probably
you don't always get exactly what you wish for.
eeteuk can count more times that he's been sad than the times he's been happy. he decides to shrug it off at first, delicately putting it on the shelf housing things that aren't really so important like the fact that he doesn't like to eat anymore unless he feels completely empty. emptiness and space always make him feel so guilty and lonely. more guilty the first time he eats a whole carton of ice cream in one sitting; more lonely as he sits in the bathroom afterward and rakes his nails over skin and bone, sharply up over his jaw and into his throat. he likes to see how long he can brave the lonely feeling in his stomach because that means that he's not so scared of space (and empty fragments of what used to be) anymore. he sits and waits for someone to hear him or for someone to tell him to stop. no one comes. he's really not used to feeling so lonely.
eeteuk can count how many times he's had food in the past week even though he doesn't really have to count at all. it feels like another mile stone and although he can hear ringing in his ears, he thinks he should be proud of himself. models don't have to eat anyway. it's his inside joke but he doesn't laugh, he just tucks it that much farther inside. kibum hears him that night but kibum doesn't get to the door fast enough because everything is already gone.
"you're sick, hyung?"
"no," he replies as a hand ghosts over the rise of his spine. "i just feel empty."
eeteuk can count the number of times kibum's chest rises and falls that night, but he's too busy remembering that kibum doesn't even live with them anymore. he wonders when everyone else will leave him by himself- cold and desolate with his back turned to the world. according to the rumble in his stomach, he has a lot longer to train before he's used to forever.
"you're already up," kibum's voice is thick and groggy and eeteuk reaches up to smooth the hair around his ruffled features.
"i have to be," he grins and lets his eyelashes flutter down against his cheeks.
(he thinks about dying when kibum looks at him like he's beautiful and wonders if anyone will notice when there are soft kisses pressed against his eyelids.)
eeteuk can't count the number of feathers that fall as he struggles with the wings on his back. they're all dirty and they make the creases of his palms bleed but he keeps pulling them out anyway. the sound of his sobs echo around him, resounding in his ears and taking up all the space. he knows that he can't stay here. he doesn't want these wings and he doesn't want to be an angel anymore.
(silence overtakes him and for the first time, eeteuk notices that his heart isn't beating anymore and when he looks around himself, all he can see is space.)