weighed down

she can’t remember (can, can remember, hates to remember, can’t even begin to think about - ) the last time she was this vulnerable. this exposed to the world around her. this human in the face of humanity at it’s worst. her stomach twists in sickened knots.

it’s startling to see her like this. jaein, who normally strikes a weird version of fear within him. jaein, who is strong even -- no, in spite of the near-constant erratic beat of her heart. jaein, who noeul swears may kill him one day. if she ever finds out. but he doesn’t think that tonight. even when she shoves at him and he stumbles back easily. ground spinning beneath his feet once more, a dull but persistent migraine the cause. he grunts as his back hits the concrete wall, but it’s nothing compared to the pain excruciatingly present in jaein’s voice. 

human, he pinpoints finally as she whispers something frantic. she seems human. 

not the fearless vigilante he’s used to, just human. he’s not sure which one scares him more. 

“shit,” he curses, shrugging off his overlarge black jean jacket and setting it on the floor. the crisp winter air pulls goosebumps onto his skin, but the anxious rush of blood in his veins warms him enough to ignore it. “sit,” he says, orders, helps her do so without even waiting. holding onto her and sitting her down slowly as to not dizzy her any further. he crouches beside her, grabbing her wrist to feel for a pulse, frantically sliding two fingers across her skin when he fails to find one. then reaching for her neck, pressing his middle and forefinger right beneath her jaw. when he feels pulsing he lets out a breath, shoulders relaxing though his brows continue to furrow. it’s too slow, he worries, while his own beat rises too fast. “just, breathe in slow,” noeul instructs, following his own directions as he does, “then let it slowly, too.” 

she stumbles, staggering to the edge of a building and pressing her hand against the smooth shining stone surface, panted breaths between her lips. her head is foggy and clouded and she feels as if she’s pushing through viscous air to try and progress forward. had she been going home? she can’t remember. she pulls herself upright with some struggle and there is a very palpable fear that grows inside her at the earnest fear of her position, the horror of facing the world as just a girl, something that had been proven in the past to be fragile and breakable. perhaps it’s just her luck, then, that she quite literally stumbles, vision graying out at the sides, into the figure in front of her, who catches her in shaking arms with a tone of surprise. she uses him as leverage to pull herself upright, unbothered by a wince as she grasps at his arm. “noeul?” she mumbles, clearing her throat. “what the fuck?”

noeul doesn’t remember when he lost rin. noeul doesn’t remember much of the night, to be fair. everything’s a blur of darkness, broken glass, heated bodies, a few drinks too many followed by pills he’ll regret taking in the morning. if it ever comes. and oh god, why is his heart rate increasing again, why is he anxious? did the bliss wear off already, it has been a few hours now, so is this the fall after the rise? or, did someone sniff him out, spike his drink? did yani? shit, what did he really take? his head spins. throbs. he groans, shuts his eyes, brings his hands up to his temples to press thumbs against them, apply pressure to relieve. it helps very little. he keeps stumbling down the street rubbing circles anyway. 

when he opens his eyes again, he doesn’t know where he is. without blinding neon lights and the usual bustle of the city at night, he’s lost. like a mouse dropped in the middle of a maze for the first time, only with no scented food to guide him. just pollution and the stars in the night sky shining to announce their appearance for the first time in a while. he leans back against the wall of a building, staring up at the speckles of white, attempting to slow the beat of his heart back down. he breathes slow. one, two. one, two. one, two. and it works, until the fall of footsteps, belonging to no other than jaein, ruins his rhythm. “jaein?” he calls out, and it seems to go unheard. “jaein?” he repeats, but that’s useless too and she almost crashes into him.