Eight
Four ShotsDaehyun POV
What was he doing? I saw him, as he stood up and looked around and walked out of the cave. Of course, I wasn't sleeping. I haven't slept since the bombs came and blew apart the earth, blew apart the sky. He came back, too quickly for him to have gone anywhere further than a couple meters outside of the cave. It was strange, still, and I didn't trust him, even if he did risk his life and his precious murdering knife to save us. Something isn't right here, but I can't pin down exactly why I think that. I just do, and he's making me edgy even while we're in probably the safest place out here.
I don't like feeling unsure, and unsure is one way of saying it. I'm unsure of the future. I'm unsure if we're even going to make it out alive. Come to think of it, what am I sure about? I'm sure about the fatal end. I'm sure that Jongup is crushing on Himchan. I'm sure that dying would have been a lot better than this.
And that's all, mostly.
The morning light streams into the cave, so the dazzling light sets every flash of mirrored rock in the walls to flame. It's pinpricks of light to my eyes, and I shift away from the mouth of the cave, more used to complete darkness now, so much that it strains my eyes.
As I do, my eyes shift over and meet Jongup's. He's sitting with his back to the wall, legs splayed over the uneven rock. No one else is awake, but he's eating a cracker, same as last night. He smiles, a jagged, crooked twist of his lips and holds out a square to me.
"Want one?" He asks me, his voice quiet, but still loud in the breaths of four, and nothing more.
"Sure," I say, and he scoots the package over to me. It's almost empty. As I take one, Jongup watches me with heavy eyes.
"How's your leg?" I test it, drawing up my knee to my chest and flattening it out again.
"Better. Still hurts, but fine." He nods, taking back the crackers as we sit and the light slowly chases the shadows away.
"You know how to work a gun?" Jongup askes randomly, and I fur my brow.
"Um, no." He sighs, and nodded like that was what he expected.
"Do you think Yongguk knows how to?"
I consider that. "Probably more than Zelo." He snickers, and I feel the start of a friendship, or at least something, and I try to quench it. He'll die soon. We'll all die soon, but I have the kind of luck that would let me be the last to die, and the one to watch everyone's throat get torn out, or get shot in the back.
I can't do this. I can't get close to people, because that makes me weak and I know my own logic is twisted. Weakness is nothing, here. Weakness would mean staying to help someone one care about if they were attacked. Strongness would be running, abandoning them to the claws and brutal teeth. But running would be worse. Because you would survive, and you have a worse life becuase of it. Isn't it better, in theory, to be weak and die an easy death than to be strong and stretch out the inevitable, for days or months or even years, if you're that 'lucky'.
And in the quiet that stretches after, we hear a sob. Not loud, but it was quiet enough that we heard it clearly. I can't track the sound, but Jongup's eyes flick to the back of the cave, and hold on a shadow.
I squint at it for a second, and recongize it as the huddled figure of Himchan. His knees are pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, and his head is buried in his lap. In the light, I can just see his shoulders shaking, and in a flash I realize that he's crying. I didn't know what to do, and I could tell Jongup felt the same. He looks back at me, something like panic in his eyes, and I just look back at him blankly. It wasn't my problem, even if I felt a bit guilty the second I had that thought. I learned to block of sadness, because sadness is weakness and fear and I can't do that, I can't be weak. Especially not here, not now.
Jongup, clearly panicking, looks wildy from me to the obvious Himchan like I was going to help him or something. I snickered and he shot me a look. I gesture towards Himchan, and shrug. Jongup rolls his eyes at me, and than stands up, hesitantly.
He shuffles over to Himchan, and when the crying guy still didn't raise his head, Jongup sits down next to him, his movements carefully clipped and controlled, so that his shoulders just bumps Himchan's shaking one. Himchan freezes for a second, and then his head raises just enough that his eyes could be seen peeking out from under his fringe. Jongup looks back at him, his eyes made soft in the morning light.
And then Himchan raises his head, so I can see a flash of his tear-streaked face, before he buries his head in Jongup's shoulder, and sobs, again and again.
I flick my eyes away, and instead fix them on the rock in front of me. I can't get that image of Himchan, crying because of his boyfriend and his parents and his friends and everyone, everyone he's lost, out of my head. Because I'm not doing that. I haven't broken down. I haven't shed a tear, not a single one. What's wrong with me? Why am I immune, why am I so guarded with my heart while he is not?
Why does this make me feel inhuman, so inhuman? Why does this plant a seedling of something I can't name but is certainly not feeding my ego in my mind? Why does my strength in this, while others are so weak, hurt me?
I don't know. And suddenly all I want to do is cry, so much. I want to cry for the people lost, if I knew then or not. I want to cry for the distruction of my home. I want to cry for my grandmother. But the tears don't come, and so I sit there, forced into feeling nothing when all I want to feel is sadness. Forced into being strong when all I want to be is weak.
Im sorry that this is such a short... And meaningless... Ad quite horrible chappie but I wanted to update and theres Himup so yay! I love all your commenting so pelase keep it up!
Luv ya guys!!
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