Twenty-Eight
Find Me // SHINee
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Taemin cursed as his leg seemed to spasm, jerking out from beneath him incredibly as his mind vibrantly flashed. A thought was a shard of glass from a broken spectrum, piercing each nerve fiercely, and every time a curse left his chapped lips he clenched his fists violently, curled upon the wooden floor.
“What the ?!” Hwangsoon exclaimed, as Eunjin pressed a damp cloth against Taemin’s head, trying to force him out of his trance. As he convulsed, she held his shoulders down with her free hand, his head on her lap.
“I-I don’t know,” she managed, as Taemin’s eyes widened and his foot hit against the unused fireplace beside him, sending a cloud of ancient ash into the air. “I just walked in and he was- do you think- do you think when I hit him-“
“No, this is some... Some condition,” Hwangsoon declared, eyebrows furrowed as Taemin slowly calmed, sweat beading down his forehead. His chest rose up and down dramatically, the clothing they'd given him yesterday already limp on his exhausted body. As he declined into a state of silence, struggling to capture the essence of his humanity again as he glared at the ceiling, Eunjin looked over at Hwangsoon cluelessly, leaving the cloth over Taemin’s forehead.
After what felt like an age, Hwangsoon leaning against the closed door with a pensive rage, Taemin sat up in complete disregard to Eunjin, the cloth falling from him as he rubbed his temples. Hwangsoon doubted he'd even noticed the shaking woman, as she stood and took a step backwards, eyes settling back into their cold stare.
Taemin blinked once, vision fuzzy. His mind was clearing rapidly, the distorted visages morphing into furniture, light and sound. He lifted his hand, staring at the bony fingers. It trembled. Heat lashing at him and a throbbing resonating against his skull, Taemin became aware of his observers silently, tilting his head partially to do little more than acknowledge them.
“What the was that?” Hwangsoon asked, devoid of sentimentality or care. Taemin knew not to expect any more – over the past few days, the only times he'd seen Hwangsoon were to receive food, or clothing, and the man had never bothered to strike a conversation, lest it be a question on Taemin’s past – questions he'd no desire to answer.
Taemin simply shrugged a shoulder, eyes heavy.
“Is there something wrong with you?” Eunjin asked, standing by Hwangsoon now. They watched their captive like two disappointed parents, exchanging subtle glances and gritting their teeth.
Taemin shrugged again.
“Whatever, Eunjin, let's go.” Hwangsoon gripped Eunjin’s wrist and tugged her out of the room, locking the door firmly behind himself.
Taemin grimaced.
Above him, the electric light – a simple bar across the ceiling, the type of lighting more akin to a school building than a flat – buzzed as if an in
“What the ?!” Hwangsoon exclaimed, as Eunjin pressed a damp cloth against Taemin’s head, trying to force him out of his trance. As he convulsed, she held his shoulders down with her free hand, his head on her lap.
“I-I don’t know,” she managed, as Taemin’s eyes widened and his foot hit against the unused fireplace beside him, sending a cloud of ancient ash into the air. “I just walked in and he was- do you think- do you think when I hit him-“
“No, this is some... Some condition,” Hwangsoon declared, eyebrows furrowed as Taemin slowly calmed, sweat beading down his forehead. His chest rose up and down dramatically, the clothing they'd given him yesterday already limp on his exhausted body. As he declined into a state of silence, struggling to capture the essence of his humanity again as he glared at the ceiling, Eunjin looked over at Hwangsoon cluelessly, leaving the cloth over Taemin’s forehead.
After what felt like an age, Hwangsoon leaning against the closed door with a pensive rage, Taemin sat up in complete disregard to Eunjin, the cloth falling from him as he rubbed his temples. Hwangsoon doubted he'd even noticed the shaking woman, as she stood and took a step backwards, eyes settling back into their cold stare.
Taemin blinked once, vision fuzzy. His mind was clearing rapidly, the distorted visages morphing into furniture, light and sound. He lifted his hand, staring at the bony fingers. It trembled. Heat lashing at him and a throbbing resonating against his skull, Taemin became aware of his observers silently, tilting his head partially to do little more than acknowledge them.
“What the was that?” Hwangsoon asked, devoid of sentimentality or care. Taemin knew not to expect any more – over the past few days, the only times he'd seen Hwangsoon were to receive food, or clothing, and the man had never bothered to strike a conversation, lest it be a question on Taemin’s past – questions he'd no desire to answer.
Taemin simply shrugged a shoulder, eyes heavy.
“Is there something wrong with you?” Eunjin asked, standing by Hwangsoon now. They watched their captive like two disappointed parents, exchanging subtle glances and gritting their teeth.
Taemin shrugged again.
“Whatever, Eunjin, let's go.” Hwangsoon gripped Eunjin’s wrist and tugged her out of the room, locking the door firmly behind himself.
Taemin grimaced.
Above him, the electric light – a simple bar across the ceiling, the type of lighting more akin to a school building than a flat – buzzed as if an in
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