scintillasofbeomgyu - Tumblr blog

scintillasofbeomgyu · 1 year ago

Text

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter seven: while you were sleeping

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,1k. warnings: language, anxiety, killing (humorously). an: sorry for the long wait! i hope you enjoy~

You remember reading somewhere that most dreams windows into the subconscious. They were like tools that the mind used to bring to the fore our innermost hopes, desires and fears.

You remember thinking how unfair it seemed; that other people got to have these things buried so far away they emerged only in the clutches of deep sleep.

You didn’t dream much after moving to Seoul. Mainly because you didn’t sleep much in the first place, but partly also because your innermost hopes, desires and fears always seemed to prance around you in broad daylight, with mocking expressions that seemed to scream: Here we are! What are you going to do about it?

When you did dream, your dreams were never really dreams at all either, but they were the seasonal reruns — the omnibus of troubling memories that you could not escape no matter how far you ran.

But tonight – tonight was different.

Tonight, it seems your subconscious believed you deserving of a break – a reward for all the anguish it puts you through otherwise.

��You have to answer us honestly, okay?” Yeonjun, the idol of the literal decade, your self-proclaimed bestie and role model, says with his eyebrows and lips set in seriousness. His eyes dart between you and Kai. “I promise we won’t freak out.”

You nod resolutely and they scoot closer to you with indecipherable expressions. Raising your eyebrows, you lean toward them in intrigue. “What is it?” you whisper.

Kai looks at Yeonjun, then takes a breath. “Who do you think is more handsome?”

You blink, registering the question, before gasping in shock. You smack their shoulders playfully. “How could you ask me such a thing? It’s not right! You’re both extremely handsome, like models – princes – angels! How could I possibly choose?”

They scream and fall back into the bed, cringing in embarrassment. “That’s just too much! Way too much!” Yeonjun cries through his hands.

“Seriously, Hyung,” Kai grimaces, rubbing the chill in his arms, “how did you get drunk enough to say such disturbing things.”

Their pink, blushing faces resemble the fluffy marshmallows you enjoyed as a kid, and it makes you laugh with joy. This is the best dream you’ve ever had. You’re unsure what your subconscious is trying to tell you with it, but you know you’re going to get Dr. Kim on the phone and ask if he had changed your prescription without you knowing and then thank him for it.

“Hey,” you pout and cross your arms, glaring at Kai, “I may not be as pretty as you, but I’m still your Noona, not your Hyung. And your Noona doesn’t drink.” Kai shudders in response.

“Seriously, you have to tell us what you drank last night,” Yeonjun shakes his head in amusement. His smile falters, then he crawls into the space next to you and links his arm with yours, resting his head on your shoulder. It feels so warm and comforting and real that your heart could burst. “I know you’re disappointed about the demo, but drinking this much is dangerous. At least let us come with you next time.”

You frown in confusion, turning to him. “What are you talking about? What demo? And I swear I didn’t drink,” you say, crossing your heart with one hand and holding up the other in solemn vow.

You try and think back to what actually did happen last night. “I guess moving into this new environment made me a little anxious, so I decided to take a walk. I… got a call from home that made it a little worse, and then I bumped into this really rude guy in the elevator. I was walking to the convenience store to get a red bean ice cream… and then I took my anxiety medication and I fell asleep on the couch?” you say, thoughts beyond that jumbled, and a nagging feeling at the edge of your mind calling on you to take another look.

“Anxiety medication?”

You find Yeonjun and Kai regarding you with eyes that swim with surprise, confusion, and deep worry.

“No, no!” you say quickly, waving your hands in hopes to draw them out of concern. “It’s not that bad! I mean, I can’t help that I have it, and it is a hindrance when I try and carry on with my life as per normal, but I’m fine. Let me show you the results of my last consultation.” you reach into your pockets for your phone, but find them empty. Your brows furrow in confusion.

For the first time, you scan your surroundings.

Instead of the tangerine walls you painted last night, you find yourself in a plain white room. Instead of your posters, the walls are bare. All the furniture and bedding in the room is black, save for a big canvas by the wardrobe with a big cherry blossom tree painted on it.

You begin to feel nervous, the events of the night before becoming more and more blurred. You remember the elevator and the convenience store and the sofa, but you also remember the sound of running water and the feeling of cold, wet clothes sticking to your body.

There is a sharp pain in your chest. You groan and grip your chest. Yeonjun and Kai rush to grab your arms.

“Hey, Beomgyu, are you alright?”

You force yourself up to reassure them, but eye Soobin’s black bomber jacket draped over a chair in the room, the one you remember slipping before stepping out last night. Hurrying over to it, the strong emotions you’re experiencing eases momentarily.

You search for your phone, but the pockets are also empty – except for a fumbled paper in one of them. When you unfurl it, you find it is a referral letter for Dr. Kim. You sigh in relief, but it comes too soon. Your hands begin to tremble as your eyes gloss over the patient’s name on the referral.

Choi Beomgyu.

Confusion, panic and fear grip your mind and you lean against the chair for support. Yeonjun snatches the paper out of your hands.

“What is this?” Yeonjun gulps, “You said Seungcheol-hyung’s tests only reflected an iron deficiency. What is this Beomgyu?” He says, looking at you with disappointment thickening his voice.

You shake your head. “Me? Beomgyu? No, you’re confused. I am (Y/n). And this is a dream.” Yet it all feels so real.

“Hyung,” Kai sighs, “Enough.”

“Look, I –”

You freeze.

Across from where you stand is a long, full-body mirror against the wall. In the mirror, where you should be standing, is Beomgyu. Your idol who you love so dearly, the reason you are motivated to strive for your dreams, is staring back at you with a face that should be yours.

When you walk, he walks.

When you frown, he frowns.

When you scream, so does he.

Yeonjun and Kai jump with surprise and you smack your hand over your mouth. Why do I sound like that?

Your fingers scour your face, pulling your cheeks and running though your hair. Eyes wide with disbelief, you turn to the two men beside you.

“Th-this isn’t a dream? This is real? You’re – real? Th-that,” you say, pointing a shaky finger to your reflection, “is me?”

“Dude,” Kai groans, dragging his fingers across his face in frustration. “Have you lost it? Of course that’s you.”

Yeonjun considers the referral one more time, then looks between you and Kai. “Maybe this is a result of the anxiety? Or the medication? You should have told us, Beomgyu.”

The hurt in his eyes sends a pang of guilt to your heart. “I’m sure he– I mean, I had a reason. He– I mean, I am not the kind of person that would keep it from you with bad intentions. Promise.”

They don’t look very convinced, but before you can answer, there is a banging at the door.

Yeonjun and Kai frown at one another, then their eyes widen. You arch a brow at them.

“Shit! Today’s schedule!”

Your face falls.

You had a feeling waking up in your bias’s body was just the beginning of your problems.

***

Beomgyu howls in pain as Taehyun hoists him into a room in the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. His gut twists in fear.

“What the hell is going on here? Who are you people and why are you in my apartment?” he yells, waving a finger at Taehyun. He clutches his throat and frowns, coughing to clear his voice.

Taehyun rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “Why don’t you take a good look around you and try again.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but when he observes the environment his eyes widen. Large posters of his face are stuck against orange-colored walls instead of his white ones. At one corner of the room is what looks like a shrine: a framed photo of him is hanging off the wall, surrounded by photocards and fan-site photos, on a shelf of albums and a glass case holding a lightstick.

“We are not in your apartment. You are in ours.”

“Oh my God!”

Taehyun nods regretfully and gives him an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know how –”

“You’re fucking sasaengs!” He screams, grabbing the closest thing to him – a hairbrush – and holding it like a weapon. “I swear to God, if you don’t let me go right now, I’ll call the police and sue you all into Hell!”

Beomgyu fishes in his pocket for his phone, but pulls out one that is very unfamiliar to him. The screen is cracked up, and the transparent cover it is in holds a polaroid of his face at the back.

Taehyun squeezes his eyes shut and sighs heavily. When he takes a look around himself, his shoulders drop in embarrassment. “Okay, wait. I know how this looks, but I swear it’s not what you think.”

“Oh yeah sure,” Beomgyu scoffs, tossing the phone onto the bed behind him and tightening his hands around the brush handle, “tell that to the six foot body pillow with my face on it!”

Taehyun considers the monstrosity against (Y/n)’s wardrobe and pinches the bridge of his nose as his ears burn red. “Yup, that’s fair.”

“I can’t believe this is the type of friend Yeonjun-hyung has! And aren’t you a doctor? You should be stripped of your license! I’ll see to it personally — my brother is a doctor and—”

“Excuse me?” Taehyun’s expression darkens. “You can threaten my life, and that of the person who’s room this is, but if you threaten my years of hardwork, I’ll have to kill you.”

Beomgyu shrieks, stepping back as Taehyun starts toward him. He aims to throw the brush in his face, but misses and the brush hits the vanity on the other end of the room.

Something there captures Beomgyu’s attention, and he is no longer bothered by Taehyun’s empty threats.

Taehyun stops and arches a brow, following him as he walks toward the vanity in a trance.

Taehyun watches as Beomgyu picks up the photo of him, Soobin, Yunjin and (Y/n) in Hongdae.

He turns to Taehyun with an expression that he has seen the owner of that face make when she was looking at photos of him.

“This girl? You know her?”

Taehyun nods, curiosity peaked. “I do. Do you?”

Beomgyu regards at the photo again with those glossed over eyes and chuckles softly. “I ran into her at the hospital. Does she always smile like this?”

The puzzle pieces click in Taehyun’s head and he laughs. If this gets out, Yunjin will never let him hear the end of it. And (Y/n)? She will sink further into delusion than she has ever gone.

He can’t wait to tell them.

He shrugs. “You’re smiling like that right now, you know.”

Beomgyu looks up into the vanity mirror for the first time and his jaw drops.

“I’m dreaming right now, right?” Beomgyu laughs in disbelief, but when he does, and sees his reflection do the same thing, the photo clatters to the floor and he screams.

“I wish.” Taehyun sighs, bending to it up from the floor. There are footsteps coming down the hall and Soobin bangs on the door. “Now that we’re on the same page, why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember? And let’s make it quick, that idiot will literally break down this door.”

“Why are you so cool about this!” Beomgyu yells, clutching his throat and groaning in frustration. He tries to make it sound deeper. “Has this happened before? Is this some voodoo shit?”

Taehyun rolls his eyes. “Let me stop you right there, Drama King. We’re getting carried away again. Someone needs to be with sane and rational thought, otherwise we’d probably give one another vasovagal syncope.”

“What?”

“Tell me the last thing you remember,” Taehyun says firmly. “We need to find (Y/n) and then figure out how and why this happened.”

prev. | mlist | next

an: i’ll be updating everyday for what’s left of this week!

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)

#smau: from me to you 🎆#txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt smau #beomgyu smau #txt fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

58 notes · View notes

scintillasofbeomgyu · 1 year ago

Text

GUESSS WHOOOSSSSEEE BACKKKKK

#Lord I’ve been rotting #being without WiFi is like #what do i even do now 😭😭😭😭#anyways catch you guys at 12AM KST!

2 notes · View notes

scintillasofbeomgyu · 1 year ago

Text

hey everyone!

so this notice is being posted by my friend, because i have been having issues with my WiFi since Saturday 😭 so unfortunately todays update will be postponed till tomorrow 😭😞 i will however be posting everyday this week to make up for the constant issues on my side!

thanks for your patience and understanding!!

#announcement: from me to you 🎆

2 notes · View notes

scintillasofbeomgyu · 1 year ago

Text

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter six: your name

⚠️ language, mention of meds/hallucinating/drugs (mostly for comic purposes), a sexual joke or two idk, i’ll just say most of the things here are not meant to be offensive and if they are i’m sorry 😭

[11:00 AM] — taehyun stares at his phone screen with a stunned, unblinking expression.

“no,” he laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “that’s impossible.”

but the scene before him was undeniable. his eyes dart between his dearest friend and the tweet in clear letters on his phone.

(y/n) was certainly insisting she was beomgyu. the relationship between her and soobin had always been questionable, and she did often have an excitable way of expressing herself, but for her to attack him the way she had was unlike her.

and her eyes were not clouded in the way he had seen with some of the patients he had dealt with at the hospital, but they were clear. she did not know who soobin was.

and then there was this tweet, and the series of others he had found on yeonjun-hyung and kai’s private accounts.

had he mentioned (y/n) to them before? he was sure he didn’t — he had fully intended in keeping their privacy and he didn’t want to lie to (y/n) either, so he had simply decided to keep the matters separate.

so what was this? if (y/n) was experiencing side effects of her medication, her thinking she was beomgyu would be strange, but not impossible. however beomgyu saying he was (y/n)? (y/n). and the oddly specific fact that she was their biggest fan?

a tiny voice at the back of taehyun’s mind screams the unbelievable, the scientifically impossible.

he looks to (y/n) once more, then sighs and pockets his phone.

“hey,” he says, nervously making his way to (y/n) and shifting soobin out of the way so that she could see him. he takes a deep breath, still debating whether or not his hypothesis is correct, and says “what is the last thing you remember?”

her eyes flash with familiarity and he almost feels relieved.

“i know you! you’re that guy from the hospital! yeonjun-hyung’s friend. uh, taejun? taemin? terry?”

no. fucking. way.

prev. | mlist | next

an: this chapter, the end of the last and the next all happen on the same day!

#smau: from me to you 🎆#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu smau #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

59 notes · View notes

scintillasofbeomgyu · 1 year ago

Text

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter five: the island

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,2k. warnings: language, they’re talking about the bloody nose incident lmao, there are anxiety episodes, death and murder is used humorously, umm i can’t remember what else, lmk! an: these past few chapters have been a little dark, but bear with me!

“Happy moving day, (Y/n)!” Soobin and Taehyun cheer, raising their drinks with big smiles stretched across their faces.

“Welcome home, (Y/n)!” Yunjin joins in with a grin to match.

“Jjang!” you happily clink your cans together.

After spending the entire afternoon moving your things from your old apartment and into Yunjin’s, and then painting and furnishing your new room, you and your friends settled in the living room for a well-deserved dinner break.

You are gathered on the carpet around the round table where a feast befitting a king is prepared: crispy fried dumplings, soft fishcakes, spicy tteokbeoki, saucy black bean noodles, fresh pickled radish and ice cold cans of mountain dew. The delectable aroma wafts into your nose and makes your tummy rumble.

Taking a big slurp of your bowl of black bean noodles, you squeal in satisfaction with the warm, savoury taste. Soobin chuckles beside you, pushing the hair from your face as you take another cheek-filling mouthful. You can’t remember the last time you ate this well.

“Slowly,” Soobin says with an amused tone to his voice, grabbing a napkin to wipe the sauce from your chin. “You need space for everything else.”

You gulp the food down and poke your tongue out at him before taking another big bite. Soobin only laughs, nods and hums along with you, shifting the fishcake dish closer to you.

Taehyun takes a sip of his drink and sighs, his fondness of you making the corners of his lips pick up. “I would ask if you’re feeling okay, but from the looks of it you’re perfectly healthy.”

You give him an enthusiastic nod. “You know me. It’ll take more than a bloody nose to keep me out of commission.”

“That thought is not as comforting as you think,” Yunjin snorts.

You had been meaning to get new sneakers, but this pair had served you so well you were reluctant to do so – even with the new tear in the edge of the sole. You shrug. “At least I caught Taehyun on his break.”

“If anyone needed catching, it was you,” He laughs, popping a saucy rice cake into his mouth. “The nurses have had enough of you. Do you know they’ve nicknamed you Wonderwoman?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shrug, feeling a pleased with yourself.

“And she did have someone to catch her. Didn’t you, (Y/n)?” Yunjin smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your cheeks burn red and you hang your head in embarrassment.

Most people would have simply thought you were silly and walked away. And if there was a chance anyone did help you, your rambling would have pretty much done the trick of chasing them away with annoyed glares. But this person was different. He, as you presumed he was, had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were a brown so dark and shiny they resembled tapioca pearls. His eyelashes were long and pretty, your absolute envy. And with those gorgeous eyes, that pushed up into little crescents when he smiled at you, he looked at you with a fascination that made your heart leap.

He was so handsome. “And I almost broke my nose in infront of him!” you cry in shame, smacking your head, the scene replaying over and over in your mind.

“Oh now the broken nose concerns you?” Taehyun wheezes, shaking his head.

“Oh my god,” Yunjin says suddenly, banging her soda on the table and grabbing your shoulders, her eyes wide. “What if this is the man of your destiny?”

“Destiny?” Soobin snorts. “What are we, five?”

“And I don’t have time for dating anyway,” you sigh, eyeing the last two dumplings, but thinking better of it. You sit up and consider her with a raised brow. “Were you not the one who convinced me that men are trash?”

“I mean – I’m not usually a male apologist, but since you’re the only one in this friendship attracted to the species – I’m just putting it out there. You’ve never dated anyone before. Plus you said he was kind and pretty. The only person you’ve said that about is—” Then she snaps her fingers and gasps. “What if it was Beomgyu?”

You become animated and your eyes sparkle with interest. You grab Yunjin’s shoulders. “You think so? Really?”

“Want me to ask the cards?” She grins, unsheathing a mystical-looking indigo tarot deck from her bag.

“For the love of God,” Taehyun sighs, flinging a chopstick at Yunjin’s head. She yelps in pain and glares at him. She tries to throw it back at him, but he dodges effortlessly. “She didn’t even see his face. And he was wearing a mask, now he’s suddenly a kpop idol? What if he’s a serial killer? Stop enabling her.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he freezes. But then he shakes it off and continues eating.

“You’re probably right,” you sigh, pouting in defeat.

Soobin knocks the side of your head gently and places the dumplings in your bowl. “Just eat your food, silly. We still have to finish getting your room ready.”

Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Disbelievers.”

The finishing touch to your new room is one of your most prized possessions: a photo of you, Soobin, Taehyun and Yunjin outside a club in Hongdae four years ago. It was the night of Yunjin’s first big crowd, the day Soobin’s uncle made him manager of the café, the day Taehyun passed his first year with flying colours, and the day you had quit medical school and moved out of the dorms.

It was the first time you had truly become best friends.

It was the first time you felt like you had a family.

You polish the glass and place the frame in the center of the vanity Soobin had gifted you for the move. The smiles on your faces fill your heart with warmth and pride.

“Can you believe it has been four years?” you ask, smiling.

When there is no reply, you turn around to find your friends fast asleep. You pull out your phone and snap a photo, trying as hard as you can not to laugh.

Taehyun is curled up like a kitten at the end of your bed, Yunjin is laying in the middle of your bed on her back with her limbs splayed in all directions, and Soobin is laying across the pillows, his shirt riding up, tangerine paint on the tip of his nose, snoring softly.

You pocket your phone with a soft chuckle and decide to leave them be. Carefully removing your thick brown cardigan from under Taehyun’s head, you step out into the apartment and close the door carefully behind you.

Without the commotion and company of your friends, Yunjin’s place, that you have been to many times before over the years, felt strange.

The big, open space that was the kitchen and the living room, with its high ceiling and white downlights, its shimmering tiled, marble and metal surfaces, felt cold and alien and a little overwhelming. And as you walk through to the tall floor-to-ceiling window, pulling your cardigan tightly over your arms, feeling quite out of place, you wonder if it is really okay for you to stay here.

You loved Yunjin, but the fact that she was letting you stay here paying less than half the rent made you uneasy. You knew her well enough to know she meant every word she said, and you would never doubt her or her intentions.

You just… felt incompetent.

In the four years since you dropped out of college, what had you accomplished?

You had a dream, a vision, you were determined to work hard towards. You were moving to Seoul to live life on your own terms and make the future you wanted with your own hands.

But it was pure luck that you managed to find the old, small flat going for the rent it was. You had to beg for every job you had and had worked yourself to the bone every day for four years, only to receive setback after setback.

The space between you and your dreams seemed to become greater and greater with each passing day, until they were now faintly watching you in the distance from the far away shores of an island you’d never reach, across the dark waters of an ocean that continued to drag you further and further into its depths no matter how hard you resisted and fought.

What comes next, after this? Should you go back to school? Were you going to work part-time jobs until the end? Or were you going to keep mooching off your friends? Were you going to end up having to move back home, admitting absolute defeat?

Why is whatever I do not enough?

More and more thoughts and insecurities cleave into your brain and drive a hollowness into your chest until you can’t breathe and tears are burning in the corners of your eyes.

But before your anxiety can best you any further, you pull your earphones from your pocket and plug them in. You fight the trembling in your hands and force your eyes to focus on your screen. Maze in the Mirror begins to play in your ears, the song and its lyrics soothing your pain until you can breathe again.

My shoulders are only here

So you can rest

So that you can rest

You hum along, pulling your legs into your chest on the living room floor. You close your eyes and lean against the window, allowing its coolness to bring you comfort.

The dream you’re having, the one where you’re being consoled by the man with the beautiful brown boba eyes, who’s arms feel strong and soft and warm and safe, fills and mends the cracks in your heart until it is stolen from you as the song comes to an abrupt stop and your phone rings.

You read the caller ID and your throat dries.

You watch the phone ring and ring, until it stops and rings again.

A text pops up on the screen, and you feel the long, sharp, needle-like fingers of darkness latch onto you once more, eager to haul you off the cliff into inescapable torment.

But you won’t let it. You are not who you were four years ago.

You step out into the apartment building and make sure to hear the door lock before you continue down the hall to the elevator. A walk is good. A walk is what you need to clear your head. Maybe a cold red bean ice cream, too.

In the middle of typing a text to your friends to let them know you’re going to the convenience store at the end of the street, your phone rings again. Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, and for a split second when the elevator doors open, you consider picking it up.

At that same second, you step out into the lobby and bump into a hard body and your phone is sent clattering to the floor.

“Sorry!” you exclaim quickly, picking it up and bowing your head in apology. But when you look up, no one is there.

You spin on your heel and find the person standing in the corner of the elevator in dark clothing, with not a single sign of remorse. He grumbles, “Look where you’re walking.”

You glare at him. Before the doors can close, you stick your foot in and give him the most loaded smile you can muster. “You should take your own advice.”

Shaking his head, he starts toward you. You do not budge, until it appears he is not coming to you but for you. You shriek and close your eyes, jumping back. When you open your eyes again, the elevator doors are closing and he is back in the far corner with the same unbothered look about him. You scoff. “You jackass!”

You flip him off through the doors and stomp through the lobby angrily, growling in frustration when you get out onto the street.

“Who the hell does he think he is! I mean, we bumped into each other!” you yell, to yourself mostly, as you start toward the convenience store, making other pedestrians steer clear of your path. “And that face mask? Does he think he’s an idol? He could never compare to my kind Beomgyu,” you declare, pulling out your phone to take a look at the sweet, handsome man that was your lock- and homescreen.

Upon retrieving the device, however, you gasp and the shock causes your body to freeze.

There is a long crack from one corner of your phone to the next, small little fissure cracks meandering off from it to the rest of the screen. You jam the on button repeatedly, but it does not budge.

Your eye twitches.

“That damn jerk! You better hope we never cross paths again, idol wannabe, because if we do,” you laugh manically, “you’re so fucking dead!”

***

Beomgyu bangs the door behind him and doesn’t even bother to kick off his shoes before he enters the apartment.

He pulls off his mask, his jacket and his hat and throws them to the floor.

He slams open the bathroom door and climbs into the shower, turning on the cold water and letting it run over his head.

His breathing is heavy and labored.

His chest is numb and his heart, shattered.

He falls to his knees on the floor and sobs into his hands.

Why is nothing I do enough?

***