3: Pathetic
Title: Pathetic
Pairing: Wontaek
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, romance, AU, songfic: Nell - 얼음산책
Summary: Taekwoon wants nothing more than for Wonshik to stay away - except, maybe, for him to come closer.
Wordcount: 2,159
Maybe, if it's you
You would understand this feeling
Maye, if it's you
You would see that the wounds of my heart
run deeper than the increasing wounds on my body
But in the end, this selfishness drives you away
It makes you distant from me
In the end, I make you leave me
Isn't it pathetic?
I can't love anyone, even myself
Maybe, if it's you
You would try a little harder
”Hyung, stop!”
Taekwoon hesitates, but only for a moment, before he pushes on through the snow. Holy shit, it's cold. The falling snow keeps getting into his eyes, but he won't let that stop him. He needs to keep moving, and towards what? Nothing, probably. In this town it doesn't matter how far you walk, you won't see anything of interest anyway. No, he's not moving towards anything, but rather away, away from school, away from Wonshik.
”Hyung, come on, let me talk to you!”
They were in the library earlier. The stupid fucking library where Taekwoon spent his stupid fucking days with Wonshik, who was obviously also fucking stupid, falling further and further for him with every stupid fucking page they turned while studying together. It was gross, honestly, how easily and undoubtedly Taekwoon fell for him, ever since the first time they met. And today, in said stupid fucking library, Taekwoon accidentally let him see something he has never shown anyone else.
Hm, maybe that's a modification of the truth. Nobody has ever come close enough to see. And maybe it wasn't accidental. Maybe it was Taekwoon's way of testing Wonshik - but the thought makes him cringe. He's such a cliché, so predictable, unable to ask for what he really wants and trying with all his might to make Wonshik give it to him out of his own free will. Very gross.
He left his jacket and all his stuff in the library when he ran out, and he's pretty sure Wonshik did the same. He doesn't want to look behind him to find out. Now Taekwoon is walking along a pedestrian street, far from traffic, and Wonshik is chasing behind him. Taekwoon's teeth are chattering, he's trembling where he walks, and he's losing strength. Wonshik will catch up to him soon, and while it's the absolute last thing Taekwoon wants right now, it's also what he craves more than anything.
As he thought, Wonshik's hand closes around his wrist soon enough. ”Please, hyung, stop,” he pants when Taekwoon turns around, ready to tear his arm out of the other's grip. ”Why are you running?”
”I don't want to talk,” Taekwoon says, and Wonshik lets go of him, bending down with his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. ”I don't want to talk about it.”
”Fine,” Wonshik says, catching Taekwoon again when the latter turns around to keep walking. ”Then I won't ask. But let's go back to school, hyung. You'll catch a cold out here.”
”So you go back,” Taekwoon hisses in reply. ”If it's so cold, you leave.” He knows that his trembling shoulders fool nobody - it is fucking freezing - but he refuses to acknowledge it.
”I promise you, I won't ask,” Wonshik insists. ”Just come with me back to school. I'll feel better if I can keep an eye on you.”
Taekwoon stares at the snow in the younger's hair. It's not enough. He wants to bend down, pick up more snow with his already frozen hands and throw it all over Wonshik, but the heaviness in his heart screams at him, please, please fight for me, please don't wait outside my walls, please defy me, please don't think I really mean to push you away like everyone else. Please don't leave.
”I can see you judging me already,” Taekwoon says, and Wonshik stares at him in surprise. Of course he's surprised, because Wonshik isn't judging him, would never judge him over something like this. ”I don't want to be around you like that, but I don't want to talk about it. So I'm going.”
He turns around to walk away again, and Wonshik darts ahead, standing in front of him to block his way. ”Fine,” he repeats, ”then I'll make short work of it so that you can see I'm not judging you.” Vapor wells out of his mouth with ever word he says and every quivering breath he takes. He holds out his hands while Taekwoon holds his breath. ”Let me see.”
Taekwoon scoffs. ”Are you kidding? No.”
Wonshik doesn't even blink. ”Show me.”
Taekwoon grinds his teeth, half his heart overjoyed at the effort Wonshik is putting in for his sake, half of him terrified and disgusted with the whole thing. ”I said no.”
”I need to see how bad it is,” Wonshik says, taking an unstable step closer to him. Taekwoon feels like his heart moves up to his throat, hammering in anticipation. ”Hyung, please.”
But despite how much he wants Wonshik to help him, Taekwoon pulls back. ”Wonshik, no.”
Wonshik sighs heavily, exhaling a big cloud of vapor. ”Then I'm sorry, hyung. You're not giving me a choice.” Taekwoon is just about to ask what he's talking about when Wonshik launches at him, grabbing his wrist hard enough to send colorful spots dancing in front of Taekwoon's eyes, the pain familiar and not fully unwelcome, and Taekwoon struggles half-heartedly, because he has dreamt of this so many of times, of Wonshik having no respect for the walls Taekwoon has had to put up against his will, and when he feels his sleeve being pulled up and his skin meets the freezing winter air, he stills, looking away. He allows Wonshik about five seconds of silent observation, and then he pushes him away, dragging his sleeve down over his injured wrist, over the wounds he gave himself earlier in the school bathroom.
”We have to go back,” Wonshik says, his eyes glassy. His fringe is messy, as his hair is tossed around constantly by the wind. ”We have to go back and get you washed up, hyung, and maybe-”
”No, we don't,” Taekwoon interrupts. ”Isn't this enough? You wanted to see, I've shown you. Now go back.”
”They look bad, hyung,” Wonshik replies, wincing. ”They could get infected.”
”They won't. They never do. Besides, these are not important.”
Wonshik gawks at him, and tears at Taekwoon's heart a little. ”How can you say that? Do you really care so little for yourself?”
Taekwoon shakes his head. It's not about that. ”They're not important.”
Wonshik tugs at his arm. He's so cold by now that he can't even feel it. ”Why did you do it?”
Taekwoon glares at him. ”Why did I do what?”
”Why did you do it this time,” Wonshik clarifies. ”What were you thinking of?”
”It doesn't matter.”
Wonshik grabs him by his shoulders. ”Why do you keep saying that? Of course it matters!”
”No, it doesn't!” Taekwoon yells, pushing the other away, leaving him wobbling a few steps through the snow. ”These are not the problem!” He gestures towards his sweater-covered wrist. ”The problem is what caused them. The problem is that my head, my brain, everything in me looks exactly like this,” he pauses, pulling up his sleeve again with his unfeeling hands. ”And no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I want to, I can't show you that. Do you understand?”
He feels tears in his eyes now, and Wonshik is looking at him like he never knew it was this deep, as if he's never considered the reasons for Taekwoon's depression, his cold behavior, his need to protect himself, and that is exactly what Taekwoon thought. If anyone knew, if anyone thought of these things, they wouldn't try to approach him. They wouldn't put themselves on the line to help him. Taekwoon sighs, pulling his hands through his snowy hair. He can't feel his legs anymore, and at this point, he's starting to get scared of frostbite. His eyes fall on Wonshik's pale lips, and he feels endlessly horrible. ”That's why these cuts don't matter,” he continues, voice low now, but Wonshik is hanging onto his every word. ”You can bandage them up all you want, but you can never do the same to my head.”
Wonshik shrugs helplessly. ”Have you ever let anyone try?”
About to argue, Taekwoon opens his mouth, annoyed that people keep thinking they know him better than he knows himself - but then he realizes, that no, there's never been anyone next to him that he could tell his worries to, no one who knows about his problems, thoughts and anxieties. It isn't relevant, he thinks, because no one will ever be able to heal him if he can't even heal himself, but it leaves him without anything to reply to the younger man.
Wonshik stands in front of him again, brushing the hair out of Taekwoon's face. His fingers are tender against his forehead, but Taekwoon is too numb from cold to feel them. ”Why did you do it this time?” Wonshik asks again, calm now, focusing on Taekwoon's face rather than his arm. ”What were you thinking of?”
And Taekwoon bites down hard on his lip, closing his eyes. His whole body is still shaking, and his walls aren't falling, but he feels calm for the first time since... Well, he doesn't know since when. Maybe he feels calm for the first time ever. He has dreamt of this for so long, the same recurring dream starring different people that have come and gone, pried and been pushed away by Taekwoon's insecurities, and now Wonshik is here, the only one to make his dreams come true. He wants to fall into the other's embrace, but he can't, because he doesn't want to be the one to ask for anything. He doesn't want to plead with Wonshik to help him, because if Wonshik gets close enough to see how disturbed he is, if Wonshik gets to know him and is disappoined with everything Taekwoon is, Taekwoon's guilt would be so much easier to carry if Wonshik had done it all on his own accord, not because Taekwoon asked.
”I... had a panic attack,” he admits, his eyes still closed. ”Because people kept talking to me in the classroom.”
Wonshik's hand finds his shoulder and slides down his arm, linking their fingers together tentatively. ”And you don't like it when people talk to you?”
Taekwoon opens his eyes, suddenly afraid that this is all a joke, that Wonshik will run off laughing soon. It's irrational, because Wonshik is probably the most understanding, accepting person he has ever met, but it just seems.. too good to be true. ”That really depends on what they say.”
He can feel Wonshik's fingers between his own, but only barely. ”Was someone being a dick to you?”
”Don't ask any more now, please,” Taekwoon says, because the memories he has kept at bay since he slit his wrists earlier in the day are starting to come back. Wonshik nods immediately, hooking his arm with Taekwoon's and starts leading them back the way they came. Taekwoon finds himself matching his steps, despite school being the last place he wants to be right now.
”Okay. I won't ask, not yet. We have time.” Wonshik smiles at him through frozen lips from beside him, and Taekwoon nods in a daze. ”I care about you, hyung,” he says then, and Taekwoon stops breathing. ”I care about you a lot. I care about how these fingers feel like they're about to fall off from the cold,” he says, laughing as he trails his cold hand down Taekwoon's equally cold arm. ”And I care about what happens in your head, too, even if you can't tell me about that just yet.”
There are a lot of things Taekwoon would like to say, but he can't, too blinded by Wonshik's presence beside him. Still here. Not running away. ”You're cold, too,” he mumbles instead. ”Go warm your hands on the radiator when we get back.”
It's a weak comfort, probably, and ridiculous; someone as messed up as Taekwoon trying to take care of someone like Wonshik. But the younger smiles at him, tugging him along faster and faster until they're running back, squinting as the wind and snow sting in their eyes, and Taekwoon can't remember the last time he was this happy.
Wonshik hasn't broken down his walls. Taekwoon isn't sure there's at all a way to do that, but if there is, they won't fall for a long time yet. But it does seem like Wonshik has found a way to walk around them, slowly, little by little, and even if he can't save Taekwoon by himself, he can at least keep him company while his defenses crumble.