For a minute, all you could hear was the sound of your breath and the ever quickening pace of your heartbeat. It wasn’t until a few moments after did your ears finally adjust to the silence of Jiheun’s apartment, a few moments more to hear her calling your name, the sound distant, unfamiliar, as though you were underwater. The world around you was so blurry that it didn’t seem far fetched at all, the wooden floor boards tilting back and forth and your body along with it.
You hardly felt the blood.
Hardly felt the pain.
You hadn’t gone to work like you had meant to–the screaming caught your attention, took you by the hand and dragged you to the kitchen, pulled you between your mother and your brother.
He had been drunk again.
They had been standing at the other end of the room, you had only just tugged your jacket on, running down the stairs shortly after. How didn’t I hear this before? But you knew the answer, you had been listening to Butterfly on repeat, hoping it would drown it out. You had your earbuds in purposely, you had been ignoring them.
“STOP,” Your voice echoed throughout the near empty apartment, not enough furniture to stop it. Your throat had felt raw, your eyes had felt wet.
I’m not crying, I’m not crying, I'mnotcrying.
You couldn’t see anything with tears in the way, couldn’t see the bottle, couldn’t see it swinging down, definitely didn’t see it hit the back of your head.
S M A S H–silence.
When you opened your eyes, you could only hear ringing; everything was numb, the sun had set.
You didn’t realize you were running until you got there.
Didn’t realize where you were u till you heard her voice.
“Y/N?” Jiheun, Jiheun help. “Y/N CAN YOU HEAR ME?” No, Jiheun. I can’t hear, can’t feel, can’t see, can’t
Note: The torture in this is not descriptively written out. This fic is through Matt’s POV, so he’s just getting what Shiro tells him.
is a deep unsettling weight pressing down against Matt’s chest. It snatches his
breath, lungs unable to swell against the burning fear ripping through him.
He’d be a little more at ease had some purple soldier not taken Shiro and his
father, leaving him locked in a cell by himself. It’s dark, cold, and
suffocating despite the open bars keeping him from freedom. He’s pressed
himself into the farthest corner, knees drawn up to his chest in a clear attempt to
make himself smaller than he already is.
shaking from head to toe, from the creeping chill at his back paired with the
gripping fear clinging to his limbs. What little warmth that’s remaining in his
body is seeping from him in long waves, and he squeezes his eyes shut, dropping
his head to his knees.
stays like this for two hours despite the deep ache settling in his back, but
the second he hears footsteps echoing against the bare walls, he sits up, body
rigid. He can’t see much around the darkness, but he can hear his cell door
open, and moments later, there’s a large thump on the floor close beside him
followed by the door closing once more.
keeps quiet, still, tense, waiting for the thing that got dropped into his cell
to move. He can make out a faint silhouette against the darkness, the framing of a body, a person. He’s just convincing himself that the purple species
dropped a dead body in his cell for food when the body groans.
knows that deep vibrato anywhere, even when masked with pain and exhaustion.
He’s crawling toward the body as fast as he can in the dark.
His voice is trembling, and he reaches a shaking hand toward Shiro. “Shiro, can
you hear me?”