S E V E N

🥃Heidi Delaney🥃

"Fuck off," Jeong spat, shrugging Journey's hand off his leather jacket.

His near-black irises glowered at the redheaded boy, challenging him. But Journey refused to back down, to admit he was scared. Jeong held the power to inflict fear, to the point where tears are streaming, with a glare. Although his power was failing him at the moment.

"Jeong," Journey whispered, his voice a spring breeze. "You're hurting."

Jeong forced himself to scoff, acting nonchalant. "No, I'm not."

"You're allowed to break, you know. You're allowed to feel defenseless. You're allowed to be weak. Shit, you're allowed to care."

"Fuck off," Jeong repeated, a growl bubbling from his throat, as he glared at the determined blue orbs peering at him.

"No."

His eyebrows arched, he shot back. "No?" Shock washed over him. No one, not even his brother, spoke to him like that.

"Why can't you just let me in, Jeong? Let yourself in. Admit to yourself that you're not fine. Admit to yourself that you're grieving. Admit to yourself that you're fucked up, just like everyone else, and allow yourself to grow. I'm not asking you to tell me. It's not my place to know. But for the love of God, Jeong, tell yourself that you're hurting like hell right now."

Jeong crossed his arms defensively, letting a brick from his unbreakable wall fall. "Okay, I'm hurting. I feel like absolute shit half of the time and I carry the blame for my mom's death. As much as I tell myself it wasn't solely my fault, I bind myself with responsible, restrain myself with metaphorical handcuffs, secured around my wrists, clawing tirelessly at my fucking veins. I'm fucked up, more than most, but I'll just have to live with it."

Jeong drew blood from his bottom lip, in an attempt to prevent tears from falling down his face. To prevent himself from looking like an idiot.

"Let yourself cry, Jeong," Journey breathed out. "Let yourself break. Crying doesn't mean you're weak or vulnerable. Crying means you're human."

"Fuck off," Jeong whispered, his voice barely audible, as tears of glass blur his vision, falling down his face, one by one, revealing his true colors. For as long as Jeong remembered, he was told to wear an emotionless facade, a coldhearted mask. He held his tears inside in the presence of others. He suffered in silence, for the fear that no one cared. But as he rambled on about his feelings, tears staining his cheeks, Journey hung onto every word, as if it was his lifeline, and a single slip up sent him falling to his inevitable death.

The way he listened so intently made a ghostly smile form on Jeong's face. He leaned forward, his head propped up on his elbows, as he gazed into his dark irises. Every few moments, Jeong sniffled and he rubbed his eyes with his jacket sleeve. Journey has never seen him so vulnerable, so fragile, to the point where he's tearing at the seams, on the verge of falling apart.

Loose strands of his hair dipped into his almost black irises, pools of dark chocolate Journey felt himself falling into at every word Jeong spoke. From where he sat, features on Jeong's face that Journey didn't notice before were highlighted. Faint freckles powdered his cheeks. His eyes crinkled when he spoke with excitement. His lips were nude in color and his dark lashes touched his model like face.

"Journey," Jeong let out an annoyed sigh. "Were you even listening to me?"

"I was at first," he admitted, a faint crimson washing his cheeks.

"Well, thank you for caring about what I have to say," he snapped bitterly. The Jeong sitting before him moments before faded away, leaving his coldhearted facade in its wake. "I really fucking appreciate it."

"Jeong-"

"Fucking save it, Journey," his name rolled off his tongue as if it was a form of poison. The dangerous glint in his eyes returned, as he headed to their bathroom.

What the fuck have I done?

Truthfully, Journey didn't know and that pierced him like a dagger.

Reese fell back onto his bed, a string of curse words leaving his lips. Jae's laughter echoed in his mind, mocking him. Because he wasn't the one who pulled it from him.

He isn't worth your time, his head taunted.

But his heart whispered lowly: Then why is he always on your mind?

When he was younger, he blamed his sexual attraction to other boys as him being horny. But now, he realized that he'd never be satisfied with just sex.

He wanted to fall asleep beside someone, remind them that he loved him all the damn time, and wrap his arms around his waist. He wished that he'd be Jaehyung, but in reality, that's just wishful thinking, a blissful dream his heart mocks him with.

Because Jaehyung wasn't his and he'd never be his.

Apollo froze, halting in his tracks, as he caught sight of his best friend's state.

Salty tears streamed down his face, his lips trembling violently, as his body shook. He held his knees to his chest, trying desperately to rid the tears clinging to his eyelashes. From his lips sobs tumbled, bouncing off the dirty, white walls of his bedroom. His body rocked back and forth.

Hands clutching at the fabric of Apollo's gray tshirt, Heidi sobbed into his chest, encased in the outstretched arms of sadness, held hostage by the chains of heartwrenching pain. Brick by brick, Heidi's walls tumbled down, leaving him vulnerable to the person he cared about more than anything.

Heidi revealed his vulnerability rarely, but when he did, he broke utterly and completely, allowing his true colors to bleed through like a beautiful rainbow after a soul crushing storm.

"I can't do it anymore," Heidi whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Don't say that," Apollo responded, tears brimming in his dark irises. "Please don't say that, I'm begging you. Heidi, you're my best friend."

The way he referred to Heidi pierced through his skin, stabbing him over and over again, because he realized that that's all he'll ever be.