chapter 2

People around them got out of their cars. Pedestrians stopped and stare at the battered cars. Taehyung looks to his right. There was Jungkook, hair mat with blood. Eyes closed he looked almost serene had they been in any other situation. Glancing at his lover for the final time, he holds Jungkook's cool hand into his warm ones as his head lolls back onto the seat.

The wail of sirens pierce his bandaged ears as he shifts uncomfortably on the thin gurney. Comforting hands push his head down as he attempted to sit upright. "Where's Jungkook? Is he alright? Miss, tell me he's alright please." Taehyung grabs urgently at the woman treating his wounds as she hums for him to relax. "I... It's not up to me to say", she glances at the fragile boy sadly.

Taehyung stops breathing. Like the pounding headache that echos through his skull, it hits him harder than the car that rammed into the passenger door. He had murdered the only person that had cared about him- the only person that would listen to him at 3am in the morning, the only person that would call him up in the middle of the day just because he wanted to hear his voice- the only person that mattered to Taehyung was dead.

And it was all his fault.

What if he didn't ran from their wedding? What if he didn't invite his father? What if he listened?

He knew his father hated them. The thought of them. Why did he insist? What wouldve happened differently? Would they be home right now? Probably. Jungkook would make him a cup of warm Jasmine tea in his favourite Mickey Mouse mug that they bought last year when they went to Disneyland. They would snuggle up against one another and hold hands. Jungkook would forgive him and they'd cuddle and as he drank his tea, and Jungkook would scroll through the laptop on his lap, insisting on an old episode of Conan. He would object, insisting on something new but in the end he'd give in like he always does because he loves Jungkook. And Jungkook loves him back just as much.

But Jungkook wasn't here anymore. There would be nobody who would eagerly turn on the television and call Taehyung over to watch Sailor Moon. Nobody who would animatedly talk about the newest Overwatch update. Nobody that would hug him at the most absurb times of day just because he wanted to be closer to him. Because nobody could replace Jungkook.

The soft beeps of the heart rate monitor speak the words only Taehyung hear, keeping his guilt alive. Because he was the only one alive. He shouldn't be alive; Taehyung opens his eyes and stare at the bland ceiling that screams of nothing like home, yet reminds him so much of Jungkook that it hurts. The monitor dances faster, increasingly the red on the screen dips. Faster. His hands twitch with a soft spasm. He screams.

A piercing cold scream of guilt and pain. Everything reminds him of Jungkook. Even the red blossoms of red from the bandages, because afterall, Jungkook's favourite color was red.

And in the end, red was the last thing he saw.

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