Yoongi can hear the word as if whispered into his ears by the very air that stills around him, a breath that circles him and disappears. The seat next to him is empty though, has been for a while now, yet Yoongi can still remember the hasty, quiet command, can still remember fear reflected in bright eyes.
Yoongi had dreams once, but he thinks they're probably all gone now. Small thoughts that had blossomed into towering fantasies, the kind that can consume an entire being until they become an entity on their own. Dreams that bleed through Yoongi's mind into the open sky, threatening to fly away without him.
Yoongi's sleeves are red like these dreams, and his fingers even more so, flushed from the exertion of gripping the steering wheel too tightly. His foot is paused indefinitely over the gas pedal, naked sole scraping broken metal painfully. He can't remember where his shoes are, but he supposes they flew away with his dreams a long time ago.
Yoongi releases the wheel with one of his hands, dragging sore fingers through matted black hair, wincing at the sticky texture. If he closes his eyes he can feel warm water trailing across his eyelids and through his locks of hair, but if he opens them he's back in his car, staring blankly across an empty parking lot. Yoongi's breath turns cold, the feeling of water suddenly ice, like the bottom of a lake.
The sun is trying to peek over a faint horizon, cloudy purples and dusty pinks that fade gently against cracked concrete. The light barely reaches the edges of Yoongi's consciousness, a dawn that stretches on forever in his mind, a hope that nearly touches the sky and yet never rises. A bird screams, shrill and terrifying somewhere in the distance, a familiar noise in a place where time flows in a loop.
you should drive. how long have you been here?
Yoongi's hand drops from his hair to the empty seat beside him, other still wrapped tightly around the wheel as if trying to break it beneath weak fingers. If he closes his eyes now with his fingers tapping against worn leather he can see Seokjin. Soft hair that smells of summer and an existence that tells of the very fantasies Yoongi once let flutter free from the confines of his quiet heart.
If he opens his eyes he can see nothing but the turning of rusty gears, the melodic sounds of a machine connected to his heart, beep beeping as a piece of paper dances across the pavement of his lost thoughts. Yoongi knows what the paper says, watching it float into the air, pushes by the wind to stick against the car window. It lodges itself safely into a crack in the glass, a mistake Yoongi can see mirrored in a scar across his knuckles.
if you break the window you can get to seokjin. he's okay he's just not breathing and his seatbelt is tight against his chest.
Drive, the crumpled parchment tells him. (please just drive a voice hisses in his ears, past the bones and deep into Yoongi's decaying brain. we're going to miss the train and we don't have time for your social anxiety please just drive).
Yoongi hasn't driven since he woke up in this parking lot, hasn't driven since the brakes had given out and the water had flown up to meet them, seeming so close with the road so far away. He doesn't need to close his eyes to hear the roar of the river or the squeal of tires, doesn't need to dream to remember the guard rail bending against the weight of the front bumper.
If Yoongi does close his eyes however, he can see the car at the bottom of the abyss, windows smashed open and garbage floating up in endless layers. Water runs the cracked glass of the car he sits in now, droplets washing away the piece of paper until Yoongi can't read it anymore. He takes his other hand from the wheel, curling and uncurling his fingers with a frown. He's been asleep for a long time, trapped in this parking lot of lost dreams and a sun that never rises.
Yoongi doesn't recognize the voice over the beeping of a mystery machine that gets louder in his parking lot, nearly drowning out the screeching bird that welcomes the day. If Yoongi wakes up he'll no longer be able to close his eyes and listen to the restless voice of Seokjin fidgeting next to him.
He knows that Seokjin is with the car and water drifts across his closed eyelids like it does with the windows. The sun will rise if Yoongi wakes up, probably. If he presses his foot to the gas, but Seokjin won't.
Yoongi wants to dream forever. His fingers scrape across broken glass as the window next to him grows more and more shattered. He wants to stay in a world that doesn't move, that stays.
Yoongi puts his hands back on the wheel with a sharp breath and his skin rubbed raw from effort. His breathing quickens and with heightened senses he can hear machines, can feel a sharp pain in his left side that echoes the scream of that bird somewhere in the distance.
Yoongi's vision blurs with the reality that his dreams are all gone. The passenger seat of his car will be empty forever.
"If I close my eyes I can still see it," Yoongi says in a voice that cracks and purrs, husky with hatred for the way his tongue touches his teeth with each syllable. He stares blankly at the wall in front of him, ignoring the woman that looks back at him. Her office is dusty and the soft pinks of his sunrises are never present here. "The parking lot."
"Do you miss it?"
"I miss being awake," Yoongi answers, licking his lips and dragging a hand through his greasy hair. He's wearing red, sleeves long enough that they spill over his wrists and knuckles like blood. "I don't like the hospital. The lights here are too bright. I didn't want to wake up from being awake."
Yoongi blinks and the world is there before him once more, an illusion that encompasses his waking and sleeping self. Pastel lights that sprinkle over a life he once had and dreams of the life he'd always wanted. He'll never quite be awake again. Not like he used to be.
Finally I didn't skip! You're next :D onyu