not too happy with the way this chap turned out lol; it's too choppy asjjdkffk idk --- but it's the best i could do for now soRRY. also wattpads being annoying abt publishing again ugh im so fed up lmao.

taehyung had another nightmare that night.

he had left yoongi and went into his small apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights since he was going straight to bed anyways. he had fallen asleep right away, until he woke up.

the dream was too vivid, too real. his mother was there, slashing at her wrist with an old knife with pills already swallowed and ripping her lungs apart to leave her dead. taehyung was watching from the doorway of the bathroom, aged sixteen and unable to move forward or do anything because the day she died, he hadn't even been home. with disheveled hair and runny makeup, she smoked a cigarette right on the floor of their grimy bathroom, smiling cynically. she looked like she had gone mad, whispering to herself about her sins, her black lungs and stupid lies.

taehyung's dream ended when she looked up at him and made eye contact, smiling the saddest, coldest smile taehyung had ever seen.

he jolted up in bed, sweating profusely and crying just from the sickening memory of someone he should have loved. how could she do that to him? how could she hurt him like that, leaving bruises and scars that would remain as phantom pains on his body for years to come, and then off herself in their apartment so that he could find her dead the next day? how could she leave him to go from foster home to foster home, utterly unloved with nowhere to belong until he was old enough for the system to kick him into the streets to fend for himself? she was no mother to him; no one so irresponsible and selfish had the right to be called a mother.

taehyung was unable to sleep that night. he sat in his bed crying silently in the dark, finding it impossible to close his eyes and potentially face the horrid memories and vivid dreams again. his mother had left him broken, passing onto him nothing but her pain. he and his mother had matching scars and matching hearts. nothing else.

he fell asleep for just an hour before he had to get up again to leave for work. he decided to go to the cafe first.

* * *

the weather was horrible, pouring rain and blowing strong winds.

taehyung pulled his hood over his head and trudged down the streets to the cafe. it was nearly empty, everyone seeming to have avoided leaving their homes to get coffee because of the weather conditions. he made his way to the counter, greeting hoseok and ordering his usual black coffee. yoongi made it in the back, and he looked exhausted and bored, monotonously brewing coffee with clouds blocking away any sunlight outside.

yoongi brought the coffee, smiling at taehyung.

"you look tired," yoongi said. "didn't sleep well last night?"

"yeah. something like that," taehyung replied. "it's a long story."

"there's not a lot of customers today. kind of boring."

"yeah, but it looks nice in here when it's empty."

yoongi nodded in agreement.

the cafe was a bit small and had slightly dim lights. cheap paintings covered the walls, and tables were put in the most random places. soft music always played, sometimes classical, sometimes 80's acoustics. it was a peaceful place, and the only distraction ever in the cafe was the chattering of customers, which happened to be completely absent that day.

"did you eat something last night when you got home?"

taehyung lied. "yeah."

lying was the only thing he was good at.

well, that and hurting himself.

he had went home, drank some water and then went straight to bed. he was still fasting; he would probably break it the next day, just to make sure he didn't collapse when jimin, seokjin or jungkook were around (because if he did, they would panic and make him start eating more).

"that's good. you know, i've noticed that you don't seem to take good care of yourself," yoongi said. "i only know cause i'm the same way, in a slightly different sense." he laughed lightly.

not different, taehyung thought. my scars look like yours. you're not alone.

his lips itched to say the words out loud, but he decided against it and said he had to head to work. he was running a bit late anyways. they wrapped up their conversation and said goodbye.

"well, i'll see you later."

"yeah. will i see you tonight again? or was last night just a one time thing?"

taehyung thought for a moment. his shift ended at eight o clock, so he figured he would have time to stop by again.

"i'll be here again tonight," he said. "i'll see you then, i guess."

* * *

taehyung was serving tables at the diner when disaster struck.

perhaps the world hated him and wanted to humiliate him again. it seemed to be taunting him, emphasizing the multitude of things he could never do right.

he was carrying dirty plates when he bumped shoulders with a customer and dropped all of the plates. that was only the surface; he fell straight onto his back, got glass in his palms, and dumped a spoonful of rice onto the customer as he fell. needless to say, he was embarrassed, panicked and flustered, spilling out apologies as he picked up the broken plates.

the customer merely sighed and walked away, clearly angry yet not voicing it directly. taehyung's head was spinning, both from the embarrassment and the dizziness he had been feeling constantly since three days into his fast. his hands were shaking and blood was running down his fingers, dropping onto the pieces of the plates that he was silently picking up. he was surprised that he didn't start crying from the panic.

eventually jimin and seokjin came, fussing over the cuts on his palms as they helped him clean up the rest of the mess. they then forced him into the kitchen and sat him down, seokjin staying to help clean the bloody array of cuts and glass on taehyung's hands.

"that looks like it hurts a lot," seokjin said. "why did you bother picking up the plates when your hands were already bleeding?"

"someone needs to do it. i dropped them so i might as well pick them up."

seokjin held taehyung's wrist, examining the damage done. his eyebrows furrowed, fingers holding taehyung's thin wrist loosely. "god, your wrists are so skinny. why does everything about you worry me so much?" he began rolling up taehyung's sleeve.

taehyung quickly stopped him, latching onto his hand almost frantically. it was hard because his hands were still shaking from the anxiety of the incident prior. "you don't need to help me with this," he said. "i... i can do it myself."

"are you kidding me? look at yourself. you're going to clean this up on your own?"

"you'll get in trouble if manager finds you in here," taehyung argued. "besides, it only looks bad because of the blood. all i need to do is wash the blood off and wrap some bandages around everything. i'll be fine, i promise."

seokjin sighed. "are you sure? i really don't mind helping with this."

"i'm sure. don't worry; i hate it so much when you worry about me."

seokjin really did look worried. he was standing by the doorway, looking conflicted as to whether he should really leave or not. seokin looked as if he doubted taehyung's words, and taehyung wondered if he knew more than he thought he did.

"you'll tell me if there's ever something going on, right?"

"yeah, of course. why are you asking?"

"i just... it's nothing. just remember you can tell me anything, okay?"

taehyung smiled. "okay. now stop fussing. i'll be there in ten minutes."

seokjin left. taehyung felt a small pang of guilt upon lying so blatantly so straight to his face. seokjin was so caring and much too loving for his own good, for taehyung's good. taehyung didn't deserve the love and care seokjin gave him. lying was one of his sins, and so was receiving love.

he was taking what wasn't rightfully his, and that was one of his sins.