Jiyoung could feel himself get weaker as he watched the other fall, in all ways possible, in front of him, stumbling to get closer to the walls. He was unsure of whose feelings were that — probably a mix of the two, since he could feel an alarming amount of anxiety in his bones, as if it was burning him alive from the inside to the outside, and even if it did happen before, he was sure it shouldn’t, not at that moment, not in the state he was in — and that worried Jiyoung, ‘cause it meant it was coming from him. It was horrible, an unbearable feeling that made Boo take a few steps backwards, so he was farther from the boy on the ground, being finally able to breathe. Hot tears were falling from his eyes, only noticed when he took a look around and everything was so blurry, just like that moment in He wiped his eyes and cheeks, now only concern for the other being felt, along with the confusion and shock from other students at the hallway, who saw the scene clearly, maybe even more than him. He should tell them to go away, to give the boy space, to stop fucking staring—
He didn’t. They started moving away, slowly, but they did — not all of them, still.
He was a little scared, a bit unsure of what caused him to get like that, even if a voice at the back of his head kept telling him it’s your fault, you did that to him, he doesn’t want your help, you’re making things worse— Jiyoung knew it was right, in some way. That was what he would always think whenever he tried helping, anyone, really, because he couldn’t help at all, useless powers and zero strength to do anything. But he wouldn’t give up, he just needed to be sure of how to approach him, just that. Just that, right? Some people were looking at him, he felt the slight sting of someone feeling strange before the situation in front of them, and another person being curious, yet scared. He chose to ignore it, and he prayed they would start ignoring them, too. He needed privacy, space to feel comfortable and not everyone filling his mind with their disgust or fear for the sight.
Walking towards the other wall, he stopped where the other’s feelings started hitting him. He didn’t want to mix their emotions, and perhaps, make the other feel even worse than he was before, after all he was too nervous to control his powers properly. In a small voice, he started, “I’m sorry, again. Is everything ok with you? Do you need— do you want help?” Tripping over his own words and with his voice too hoarse to actually be his, he was crying, again. He had always been bad at hiding what he’s feeling, especially when he’s a big amount of sad — but that was weird. He didn’t feel that bad at the moment, even if there something stuck in his chest, making him feel like he would get a heart attack at any moment, crying at such a situation, for him, was odd. He got all his energy, though, to speak again, “Did I scare you earlier? When I, I bumped into you?” That sounded very stupid, if he actually think about it, but he didn’t, not really — because he figured it all went down after he touched him, took his feelings away and replaced with his own, he made him break. It was his fault, all his fault.
What was it the good doctor said? Deep breaths. Deep breaths helped. Goddamnit. He hated feeling this way, and hated even more that he was showing this weakness in public. He could still feel a high amount of panic, but after a few more controlled, deep breaths, he was more or less back to normal, although his tremors were still around.
He could hear some shuffling as the majority of students around him either got too uncomfortable, or too bored watching him, and walked away. There were a few outliers, but Haneul figured he would try his best to ignore the stares. Once the bile in his throat receded, he managed to get onto his feet, one hand bracing himself against the wall for support.
A rather hoarse-sounding voice came from behind him, and Haneul turned slightly to see a student standing there, looking almost as bad as he was feeling. He was just about to brush off the student’s offer of help when tears starting running down the other’s face. His mouth dropped open slightly, his anxiety momentarily forgotten and he stood there in shock. Why was this guy crying?
Then the other spoke again and things sort of came together. So it happened to be this student who had bumped into him. If it had been a bully of his, Haneul might have started swinging. But one glance at the other’s face was enough to convince him that the other had no ill intentions. He didn’t mean it. And it was impossible for this guy to know that he would have a breakdown the moment he was touched. It was just bad luck.
“I’m alright,” he mumbled, “Sorry if I startled you; I’m not great with physical contact.” That was a major understatement, and anyone in the vicinity would likely agree. But his panic had mostly calmed down, and he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Haneul hesitantly took his hand off of the wall next to him, and to his relief, he stayed relatively upright.
“It’s just something to do with being caught off guard and contact on certain parts of my body,” he said quietly, eyes downcast. He declined to mention that the certain parts of his body was basically everything other than his hands; he didn’t want to come across as that broken kid, although he technically was.
