#drowning;

Send me "Goodbye" for the last voice message my muse leaves for yours before they die.

"What’s the point of having a fucking phone if you’re never gonna answer it, huh?" His voice was strained, nervous as he got to the voicemail. There was a lump in his throat. He could feel it there, bigger than his fist, menacing to make his voice crack.

Water was getting to his chest now, and he was stuck there, with no way of getting out. Maxie took a deep breath in. It was surprising how far that signal could reach.

"This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t pushed Zaira in that fight. She got hurt, and…" His Crobat was hurt, so he had to take a ship to Kalos. How he hated that. Never trusted them. Never trusted the vast emptiness that came with travels at sea. "… the S.S. Herald was supposed to be good. You know what is happening at the moment, right? You must he talking about it right now. It has to be all over the news. How ‘unsinkable’ they said it was."

He was supposed to get to Lumiose tonight. With flowers, and a bottle of wine. The bouquet of tiger lilies, his mother’s favorites, was afloat a couple feet away. And the water kept coming in. He didn’t have to mention it, Malva knew it — he had no water Pokémon, no one to help him and pull him out of trouble. The fear of drowning was there, present, poignant. Yet regret was stronger. His grip in his cellphone tightened. He paused, taking another breath in. He still had a few left. 

He’s lost at sea and drowning, gasping for air as he tries to hold on to a buoy in the middle of the water. It’s his only chance for survival but it disappears just as he tries to grab for it. All that’s left is for him to sink under the treacherous waves of the ocean, choking on the salt water that fills his lungs and causes them to burn. His fingertips break through the sea as he thrashes around, eyes closed together tightly as he wills himself to go higher--there’s a current that pulls him back, pulls him away and his hand becomes submerged with the rest of him in the polluted water. There’s no chance for survival now, there’s only the comfort of darkness that can be reached, and he gives in. Taemin gives into the darkness and accepts his fate, his lungs no longer burn and now he feels nothing.

  Nothing is good, better than good, it’s everything he needs. Broken hearts aren’t supposed to hurt this bad, and they shouldn’t last this long. But his does, and every second he feels as if he’s drowning. It’s the middle of June, last week of classes and he’s unable to do anything but go to his exams and then hide himself away. He goes to the seventh floor, locks himself up into the Room of Requirement. It’s a room that gives the person what they want, all you have to do is imagine it in your head and the room would do the rest. Minho showed it to him earlier this year after Taemin caught him randomly appearing behind a door that vanished as soon as he entered.

  Taemin found solace there, the room turning into his childhood bedroom at his grandparents manor. His grandparents had passed away the summer before his first year and it had hit Taemin hard. But here in this room, he thought of them. It took his mind off of other things such as that fourth year Gryffindor with the most mesmerizing eyes. Taemin could see them as clear as day when he closed his eyes and brought the Gryffindor to the forefront of his mind. Some nights he doesn’t even bother to scold himself, just let his imagination run, pretending that he was really looking into those bright and round brown eyes. His heart would never heal if he continued on like that, but without those images planted into his mind he felt dark and lonely.

  There was a falling out with the realization that his best friend had been getting chummy with the enemy. Somewhere between the millions of questions and witty banter Kibum had formed platonic feelings for the boy. Jonghyun returned the sentiments and their friendship seemed to be progressing naturally. Taemin despised it. Kibum was his. Jonghyun was his (in a way that he really wasn’t his but still his because he saw him first!). And he… he was his parents’. They owned him, every little bit of him. His personality, his class schedule, his beliefs, his thoughts, his future, him physically. Taemin didn’t have anything that was his own, and it only added to his current state of instability.

  They’re together again, Kibum’s hitting Jonghyun’s shoulder as they laugh and form a new inside joke. Kibum isn’t afraid to talk to Jonghyun in public, they were friends and Kibum refused to be ashamed of his friends, even if they were in different houses. Kibum doesn’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations except his own. He’s just that kind of person and that’s why Taemin admires him. But right now they’re not speaking and so Taemin turns on his heels and zips down the fifth floor corridor in the opposite direction. He hears Kibum calls his name, but he pretends not to hear, even as Kibum calls him an immature arse. Taemin is hurt, and Kibum knows it but he’s tired of Taemin not letting him in.

  His tears taste salty but there’s nothing that he can do to make them stop. They fall from his eyelids like a rainstorm, painful sobs leaving his chest and breaking the silence in the corridor. They’re the shattering thunder. He’s in the seventh floor corridor, a few minutes from the room of requirement but he couldn’t make it to his destination. His body felt too heavy for his knees, and they gave out half-way down the hall. His heart hurt. His lungs hurt. His eyes hurt. His head hurts. He was hurting in ways that he never wanted to hurt again. Taemin could take the bludgers flying after him during Quidditch, he could even take it when they manage to crash into his broom, and cause him to fall fifty feet, breaking his bones and cracking his ribs when he lands on the grassy pitch. He could take the hard smacks that left his cheek stinging after he gets caught snogging some other female. He could take the disappointment from his mother after he informed her Aislinn wasn’t the one he was in love with. He could take the fact that he might possibly be gay.

  But this.. he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take seeing Jonghyun so happy with someone else, he couldn’t take the fact that he wasn’t able to completely get over him, he couldn’t take it that his best friend was living out the reality he wanted. He couldn’t take how lonely he felt since he shut himself away from his friends, who were too busy to even ask him if he was okay. They probably didn’t even notice that he had been skipping meals in the Great Hall or that he didn’t sleep in the dorms and spend time in the common room anymore. He had completely shut himself away and fell into this depressing black hole of despair and he didn’t know how he was going to claw himself out. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to, maybe it was better being away from everyone else. When you weren’t around people you couldn’t get hurt, yeah he was a crying mess now, but once the summer break came and he was out of Hogwarts he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else.

  There’s a quiet gasp, and then a whisper of “Taemin--” that causes his breath to hitch as he looks up at the source in time to see a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders after she falls to her knees. His face becomes embedded in the crook of her neck, and he cries harder into her. There are whispers of sweet words in his ear, asking him what’s wrong and who she has to maim for doing this to him. Apparently she had been looking for him all over the castle for days, worried about not seeing him around. Aislinn was the only one who seemed to care about him lately. She had already proven that last week when she found him in the same rugged state, only he was drunk then. She comforted him, and then they kissed, and he had been avoiding her ever since because he was too messed up to deal with the consequences of kissing one of your close friends and being disappointed by the results.

  Aislinn, beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired Aislinn, was his life vest. He clung to her, hands grasping her robes, as he felt the current starting to pull him away. She wipes his tears, and plants her soft pink lips right on his forehead before she pulls him in again. “Shh,” she comforts him in a way that makes him feel like a young child being coddled by an older sibling after they’ve painfully scraped their knee, but there was no amount of bandages that could fix this. “Tae, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but whatever it is--it’s going to be alright, I can promise you that.” Taemin doesn’t have the energy or optimism to deal with empty promises, but the sincerity in her words and the comfort of her embrace makes him believe her.

  “Don’t promise me anything, Ais.” He mumbles, “I don’t want promises.”

  “Then what do you want? Tell me what you need Taemin, and I will give it to you.” there’s a hint of desperation in her tone that he didn’t quite understand. Seeing Taemin like this was just as painful for Aislinn as it was for him, and if she could do anything to make Taemin feel alright, she would; even if that meant taking some of his burdens and placing them on her own frail shoulders. She would give anything to make him happy. That’s what you do when you were in love, and Aislinn was so far gone.

  “Stay with me.” Taemin whispers so quietly that Aislinn has to strain her ears just to hear him.

  A chuckle leaves her throat as she slips her hand under his white button down and rubs his back in soothing circles.