"What am I doing?" I groaned quietly to myself, staring into the space before me,  a crouched form visible only in the light from a corridor that seeped under the door of the nearly pitch black bathroom. The room had gone cold long before, ceasing to be warmed by the water vapor from a shower that took place minutes, maybe hours ago.

    I had felt something coming all day. Ignoring it had seemed like the appropriate response at the time. Maybe it was. It doesn't matter, I thought, fingers digging into my scalp, pulling my hair. When did it ever matter?

    "God, what am I doing?" I choked, for the nth time. As if maybe there was a God. As if maybe I would be able to provide an answer for how I had ended up here on the wet spot I had created on the cold tiles. A chill had settled into my skin, as a result of my attempted shower. Earlier, during this time I had thought to spend preparing for bed, I was overcome by... something. Occurrences such as these weren't unfamiliar, but this one had hit me harder than this feeling of void, emptiness had in a while. With Taehyung around, I had told myself I was getting better, and I'd even started to believe it. I didn't let him know just how much I depended on him, but the fist around my mind and heart loosened, even if only a little, while I was in his presence. Tonight, though, was different, I knew. In the middle of my shower, I had a sudden, inexplicable urge to feel something, anything. Something that would make me feel as though maybe, I, too, was capable of feeling emotions as vividly as every other member of the human race seemed to feel them. When I had told Taehyung about this weeks ago, he had tried to comfort me, lighten the mood, told me I think too much. I had forced a smile. There was no way he could have understood this. It was unfair of me to try to explain it to someone so full of life. 

    With the afore mentioned urge, I had turned off the faucet, slipped my previous garments over my drenched body, and pulled myself into the small nook between the shower and the wooden cabinet below the sink. The only feeling I'm capable of experiencing is this, cold, I thought, shivering, my fingers wrinkled from the water they absorbed. Tears I did not realize had fallen returned again, as my faint sobs began their reprise, though they sounded like they were coming from another person entirely. 

    Louder, though, were the footsteps I heard outside, from the hallway. In my mind's eye I could see him, walking towards the bathroom from my bedroom, in a faded grey T-shirt, dark blue sweatpants, and tousled brown bed hair. Closer and closer until- tap tap.

 "Let me in, please," Taehyung pleaded softly, before he realized that I had never locked the door. He opened the door soundlessly, slightly, as I became quiet. He took a moment to find me in the darkness, not wanting to turn the harsh fluorescent light on. His bare feet hesitantly advanced towards me, as if I would run away at any moment. He sank down onto the tile floor beside my relatively smaller frame, in my space, damp from the clothing stuck to my body and took a shaky deep breath, hugging his knees. 

    "Hey," he breathed, finally, as if he had gone through dozens of other things to say in his head before choosing that one word. A single word that felt like so much more. I mustered the courage to give him a sidelong glance to find that he was doing the same. He looked just as I had pictured, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw more concern in his face than disappointment. An indefinite amount of time went by before I replied. 

    "Hi." 

    My voice gave out after that, but it didn't matter much because Taehyung immediately gathered me in his arms, wet clothes and all. His sleepwear would get soaked in the process, but I didn't resist. I didn't have the energy, nor did I want to. The only thing I wanted to do at the moment was inhale his scent of cotton and something remarkably sweet, the entirety of his being. 

    We sat there for a while, me enveloped in his silent, strong, attempted understanding. His warmth surrounded the cold until, finally, it could no longer encased me in its grasp.