taehyung was hurt, yoongi realized.

the bruises on his arms screamed it, the cuts on his wrists shouted it, and his crying only whispered, but it hit harder, like a million pounds of invisible cement covering and suffocating yoongi's breaths.

and taehyung was afraid of going home.

"i don't want to go home yet."

"and why is that?"

taehyung paused for a second, and in that moment, a second felt like an infinity.

"i don't know."

"i don't want to pry, starboy, but where did those bruises come from?"

taehyung hesitated, pulling up a sleeve and glancing down at his arm, wrapped up in blues and purples.

yoongi had expected a sad smile, a devastated expression, maybe even tears upon seeing his own marred skin and speaking about his fears and problems. but much to yoongi's surprise, he scoffed.

"my mom."

"your mom?"

"she's a crazy old drunk," taehyung muttered. "and then she hits me and locks me in my room for days for drinking a bit."

"hypocritical."

yoongi tried to sound nonchalant, as if he was joking.

taehyung shrugged, a sad, bitter smile gracing his chapped lips. he leaned forwards on his elbows, pulling his sleeve back down to cover up the reds and blues.

"she's starved me before as punishment for bad grades," taehyung said. "when i was in middle school. and i got bad grades a lot."

"a lot, huh?"

"i don't care much for my future," he said. "my mother cared an awful lot as a kid, and look at where she is now. divorced, prostituting herself for rent, and drinking her life away."

"i see," yoongi replied. "i didn't care much for grades either, and i guess i'm getting by fine. low paying jobs, but enough."

"exactly."

"do you have a dream?"

"i dream sometimes when i sleep at night."

"no, a dream."

and the emphasis on the word was enough for taehyung to understand. he smiled, rubbing his left wrist.

"i want to sing, yoongi."

"starboy sings?"

"i'm terrible at it, but it's fun," taehyung said. "carefree. i can do whatever i want with my voice, and i've wanted control over my life for so long, but with singing, control feels too demanding. i like the loose strings."

"the stars are lighting up again."

and they were: breathing, shining, living, particles flying in and out with ferocity and determination.

"are they?"

"i suppose they light up when you sing, then."

"maybe."

yoongi moved closer to taehyung, running his skinny fingers through the younger boy's hair.

his hair was thin, visibly so now that yoongi thought about it.

"do you want to stay here another night?" yoongi asked. "i can give you a decent few meals."

"wouldn't mind it, actually," taehyung replied. "but i don't want to be a bother."

"you aren't a bother. i suppose i need the company for once."

yoongi watched taehyung curl into himself, legs bending into his stomach, fragile and small. he broke eye contact, looking away from yoongi and instead staring at his toes as he rubbed his wrist again, gently, carefully, calculated, as if he knew where every slit was.

the stars in his eyes flickered on and off like candle lights.

yoongi tried to block away the wind, but taehyung's stars welcomed it.

willingly blowing out and dying again.

"don't those cuts hurt, starboy?"

yoongi's gaze fluttered to taehyung's wrist, gently eyeing every red cut that lay across his pale skin. yoongi could see that it would have been golden and tan had taehyung not been so unwell.

"these?" taehyung smiled softly. "not really. i think it's a little like how you can't tickle yourself, just to me."

"that's a strange analogy."

"but it makes sense, doesn't it?" taehyung continued. "my skin expects it. so it doesn't really hurt much. just feels, and i need to feel sometimes to be alive."

taehyung played with his sleeve, tearing at the loose threads and pulling them away.

he tried to tug one off but pulled it through farther instead, leaving a hole in the fabric. yoongi found it intriguing, how he had meant to do no harm but had done more instead. why didn't things ever go the way they needed to?

"i feel so safe with you, and we just met a day ago."

taehyung poked a finger through the hole as he spoke, long eyelashes fluttering gently as he blinked. everything about him was so graceful. he walked as if he was dancing and spoke as if he was whispering words from a book. his eyelashes themselves looked like butterflies, gentle and small, flying freely with a careful touch to their wings. yoongi wondered to himself how someone who looked so alive, how someone who possessed so many living qualities, could feel so far from it.

"i feel that way too, starboy. i feel safe."

* * *

taehyung kicked the pebbles as he walked, earbuds pressed tightly into each ear with the volume of his music turned up high enough to hurt. he shoved his hands into his pockets as he breathed into the air, ambling down the street slowly as if going home was falling off a cliff, as if to ease the impact that would come with hitting the ground by slowing his fall.

when he reached the door of his apartment, he hesitated, hand resting on the doorknob shaking. he closed his eyes and let himself breathe, just for a moment.

he imagined stars lighting up and breathing too, in sync with his breaths.

taehyung turned the doorknob and walked inside.

the television was on and taehyung could see the light of it streaming into the living room through the doorframe. he tiptoed down the hall towards his room hoping he could get there unheard by his mother. she would be angry. he hadn't been home the night before, or the night before that.

he had gotten halfway down the hall when his mother's voice rang through the hall, bouncing off the walls. the sound itself was imminent, dangerous and too close.

"can't even greet your mother?"

taehyung froze, trembling where he stood. he had been so close.

"tell me boy, where have you been?" his mother asked, stumbling towards him heavily. she was drunk, taehyung realized, and the realization hit him like a truck. "out drinking with friends? drugs, is it? sleeping with girls? is that what you've been doing?"

"no mom," taehyung whispered. "i haven't. i just stayed with a friend, that's all."

he tried to stand still without shaking, tried to hide the fear in his eyes when he looked up to face his mother, but he couldn't. he had always wanted to counter his mother with a defiant stare in his eyes.

"liar. you're a liar," she said.

"i'm not."

taehyung's voice came through gritted teeth, slipping through the gaps and cracks.

"i'm not a liar."

a slap echoed through the small apartment and taehyung instantly brought up a hand to cradle his cheek as he fell to the floor.

"why are you talking back, boy? you think you can talk back to me?"

she wrapped her slim but strong fingers around a handful of taehyung's hair. the boy yelped, tears instantly filling his eyes from the pain and despair of knowing full well how pathetic and weak he looked, from the lack of emotion he found in his mother's eyes when he faced her. he tried to pull her hands away, his attempts weak and useless.

"you're going to be locked in your room for a few days as punishment. for leaving and for talking back, you understand?"

taehyung couldn't breathe, anxiety clouding his instincts. his mother's hands moved to his shoulders, bruised from when he was shoved into a wall nights before. he winced, whimpering when she shook him roughly and pushed him backwards. taehyung landed on his knees, bending forwards from the sobs that threatened to leave his lips.

"i asked you a question, you brat. do you understand?"

she spat the words harshly and taehyung nodded desperately, crumpling further to the ground with a single tear sliding down his cheek pathetically. he had managed to keep the sobs hidden.

"now go. take your backpack with you." she kicked at him, landing a blow on his arm that forced another tear from his eye. "go!"

taehyung scrambled to his feet and stumbled into his bedroom.

he shut the door and heard it lock behind him.