Type: Scenario | Texts | Chatroom | Drabbles | Reactions | Outfits

Pairing: Taehyung, BTS

Genre: Fluff | Angst | Friendship | Other -

Words: 1170

Taehyung was debating whether or not he should enter. Standing outside the door of the little apartment, he took a step forward and raised his hand to knock but shrivelled back into his shell, and dropped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The wind was hitting him like ice but he never felt it. He wore the leather jacket that his mother had bought him every day, and never seemed to feel cold. But under all the layers of clothing he wore, he felt as dark as the black attire itself. With the hood over his head, it was definite, he wouldn't be bothered by anyone, he was unapproachable.

He froze when he heard shrieks and wood breaking from inside the house.

Mom.

The single thought that came to the boy's mind. He burst through the door, not caring about anything but her.

The first thing he saw was his pitiful mother, cowering on the floor with her arms over her face and his father pacing up and down the hallway, talking to himself aggressively and punching a few things here and there.

"Yah!" his father hollered as soon as he saw Taehyung. "Here," tossing Taehyung some 500₩ coins he continued as if he wasn't even surprised to see him, "buy me something to drink. Something strong."

"B-"

"Quick!" he interrupted, glancing over at Taehyung's mother, "I'm losing my patience with this one."

Taehyung looked over at his mother who was watching him through her tears. He wanted to protest, he wanted to throw this man to the ground, but the angelic, battered face of his mother was telling him not to, telling him to obey his father before anything worse could happen. Taehyung sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead and mouthing to his mom, 'I'll be back'.

"AAAAHHHH!" Taehyung yelled as soon as he had closed the door. He rushed forward to the wall and collided into it with the tip of his head. He lifted his fist and punched it into the wall beside him, completely oblivious to those around him. With useless tears, he turned and leant his back against the flat wall, sliding himself down.

Why was I given this life?

Why was my beautiful mother born to suffer? Why was she born to die?

He hated being alone. Although it seemed like he loved his own company, he felt better surrounded by people, surrounded by distractions, distractions that make him forget these stupid t