I Dont Know Why I Had To Hurt Myself So Much With This One - Tumblr Posts

803

Warnings: Sexual content mentioned, could be triggering for some, toxic relationships, dubious consent, hurt but no comfort, momentary self-hate.

Premise: Best friends to FWB to Strangers.

Idols x reader

Authors notes: To put it lightly, I was in a mood when I wrote this. I know I don't mention it is BTS in this one, but I did intend to at the beginning. However, as I wrote i realized it could be related to any group or persons. So I decided to leave it blank. I also realized I wrote this as fairly gender neutral, which I also ended up liking. So I'm unsure how to properly list this one.

Sorry for the heavy topic, coming out of nowhere Sweet Peas!

Oh and side note: this drabble is exactly 1122 words long, you'll see why that made me chuckle.

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Staring at the blank beige ceiling you hear the door click shut. The overbearing silence becomes piercingly loud. Your limbs sore setting with a dull throb. Your naked body covered in marks, painful reminders of tonight's events. You feel the warm thick liquid slip out of your body between your legs and a tear finally escapes you. You have no idea how much time goes by, your mind blank unable to reason why you let it happen again. More tears cascade down the sides of your face into your hair, but you can’t bring yourself to wipe them away. The now chilled air sweeps over your damp skin, you shiver. Rolling to your side you bring the dishevelled comforter around you. You lose consciousness for who knows how long. You stopped looking at the clock when you were here. It almost hurt more.

On autopilot you peel yourself off of the bed, into the shower then redress into your leggings and sweater. Grabbing your bag and heading home in a taxi. Deja vu all over again.

What even were you anymore? If you said no, if you said you wouldn’t meet them in this hotel room anymore. Would you go back to being friends? Friends? Were you even friends anymore?

How could you be, when they didn’t even treat you as a person anymore. Just something to alleviate their stress, no longer contacting you outside of wanting to meet in 803. One dumb choice you all made what feels like forever ago has made you grown to hate the number 803. But every time they sent that pre-scripted text ‘803. 8pm tonight.’ you’d arrive first and end up leaving last.

Clothes thrown back on them and they’d be out the door. You’d be left alone to care for yourself. You’d become a toy, a device for them.

You tried so hard to hold onto the memories of your friendships. Movie nights, dinners, game nights in their dorm, sharing everything. Being each other's support systems. You wanted to believe in it so much you became delusional. The rose coloured glasses finally cracked.

They hadn’t contacted you in over a month since the last time. They promised to take you to dinner as a way of distracting you to not feel so guilty for missing your parents funeral. You couldn’t afford to fly home for it, spending your life savings moving here to be their number one fan and find your own life. The accident had been sudden, you could have never seen it coming.

So there you sat, until the restaurant informed you that they were closing. They hadn’t shown up. They hadn’t called, no text, nothing. That’s what you were now. Nothing.

Consumed by sadness, losing yourself in a shell of what you once were.

Another month went by and finally communication, ‘803. 8pm tonight.’.

Like a robot you packed your bag, gathered your items and headed out. Opting to walk there in hopes something might happen and you wouldn't make it. It couldn't be your fault if you couldn't make it then. How little did you think of yourself that after all this time you were still afraid of losing them?

Walking into the overwhelmingly familiar lobby, you walk up to the check in. You don’t need to say anything, this woman knows who you are. Most of them do. You're too numb to see her, eyes focusing past her meeting your own in the mirror behind her and losing yourself.

You’ve already lost them. You’ve lost your own self respect, they don't respect you. They don’t need you. They’ve already left you, your parents left you. You have no one, no one but you.

Looking down you see the key card in the lady’s outstretched hand, you reach for it. Staring at the numbers engraved under the hotel's name. You look at her, she gives you a sympathetic smile and a slight nod. You drag yourself to the elevators stepping inside alone again waiting for your floor.

Stepping out, you're fighting to keep your feet moving, like the floor is coated in fast drying cement. Have these hallways been this long? Have there always been this many doors to pass? Things you’ve never noticed.

Mistakes repeated. You unlock the door and step in. Placing your bag on the bed, while your phone and keycard of the table, you stare out the large window. The view was as beautiful as always. The night fog rolling over the river, just a stone's throw away. Something so close yet still feeling so far. You open the glass, letting the cool breeze wash over you.

There you wait for the inevitable.

Time passes by too quickly. Your phone's notifications begin to go off. Text after text, phone call after phone call. But your eyes stay plastered to the world outside, your chest beginning to constrict, hurting to breathe.

In anger you rush over to the table, grab your phone and throw it straight out the window. Barely being able to see the screen glow as it plummets down and into the water below. Tears stream down your face as you look out. How easy it would be to follow…

Shaking your head you turn back to the room, identical to your torment but there's one key difference. You pick up the hotel's key card, room 1122.

Your heart is shattered, but maybe it was better to be alone.

There’s a knock on your door. The tears stop streaming, your body begins to tremble. Please no. You silently creep your way to the door and look out the peephole.

Breathing again you unlock the door.

“Room service courtesy of the front desk staff and kitchen.” The older man smiles reassuringly at you. You step aside and let him wheel the cart in. Placing your regular favourite orders on the table. All of the things you’ve ordered in your nights alone, after they had left. You try not to cry again. “Your cable and demand are also paid for the full night. Please rest and enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you.” You manage to squeeze out weakly.

“It’s no problem at all, goodnight.” He bows before wheeling the cart out again, you lock the door behind him.

For the first time in almost a year of coming to this hotel, you change into sweats and a shirt, turn on your favourite comfort movie and dig into your food.

Knowing when tomorrow would come, you would once again leave this place alone. Alone but not lonely. There would be more, you’d find it again. You’d find your light, you would do what you came here to do. Create your own dreams, live your life.

And leave room 803 behind forever.

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