Summary: As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared from above you.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Alcoholism

Word Count: 2357

A/N: This is going to be part of a series called "Boy's With Series." Hoseok's story is going to be the first part out of seven. I don't know what order I'll do the other boys in, but I already have their themes and such chosen out. So enjoy the prologue!

'I'd finally gotten there.'

The cool night air was a whisper in your ears as you made your way down the long, open hallway of your apartment complex. Wine bottle opened in hand and a plastic bag around your wrist, the sound of your footsteps was an echoed trail that stretched out behind you like a forgotten cry. Outside it was all rich colors of pinks, blues and reds of the distant city, with long shadows cutting across the ground in shapes of buildings. Fireflies glowed amongst the sky and from somewhere a waking crow called

'I was tired.'

You wobbled with imbalance and your face was flushed scarlet amidst the effects of alcohol. You looked shabby; clothes stained with drink and hair an unruly mess, but you didn't care. You didn't care because your fervor had abandoned you and your will to create had spiraled down the drain like a flushed toilet.

You didn't care because you'd pushed away everyone who had ever loved you, even though all they had wanted was to help. You didn't care because life would always be unfair, and you didn't care because today you had gotten yourself fired.

Unimpressive and short-lived, your job had ended in an unfortunate argument with your boss over your consistent tardiness. Tardiness that was due to the oversleeping and headaches which naturally came with a massive hangover. It wasn't a great job and didn't pay very well, but it was the only job you had had and now you had none.

'Defeated.'

So you had done what you do best and found comfort in a dingy bar somewhere in the heart of the city. Since early evening you had drowned yourself in booze until eventually, the bartender had cut you off. You had slammed down your empty glass in a fit of rage and demanded more, but with a look of pity, he had denied you. You had tried to reason with him, even went so far as to beg, but he had shot you down with a strict brow and threatened to call the police if you didn't cooperate.

Thus, in a slew of curses and resistance you had gracelessly made your exit and hit up the liquor store on your way home.

'Hopeless.'

You reached your apartment door and fished for your keys buried deep in the pockets of your tattered jeans. The pink heart nose of a horse-shaped fob greeted you with round black eyes that stared flatly as if judging your life choices. You sighed heavily. Fiddling and fumbling, they fell to the ground with a soft, jingling 'clink.' The noise reverberated through the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls and right back into your ears.

You groaned. "Fuck."

Bending down to pick them up, you stumbled; jelly-like legs practically begged to give as you scooped the keys up in your hands. You rested your arm against the metal door of your apartment and gathered your bearings before standing upright.

Your stomach churned with sickness.

You couldn't recall how much you had drank but you knew it must have been a lot to make you so irrevocably drunk. Since your alcohol tolerance was troublingly high, it took a substantial amount to resort you to this embarrassing, spaced-out state of mind.

Perhaps four bottles of wine? And some vodka. Definitely vodka. The taste of the chemically liquid still lingered on your tongue.

What had started out as harmless college partying, turned into something far more dark, and far more dangerous.

Binge drinking.

Drinking during the day and drinking throughout the night, it was your way to cope with the demons deep inside your bleeding heart.

Days went by in a haze of crocked stupor and the many voices that told you you weren't enough got lost in a fuzzy lull. But life had just gotten lonelier and lonelier and finally you just couldn't cope with it anymore.

'I'd gotten to this place, because I didn't want to feel anymore.'

Finally getting the keys in the door, it took you a second to turn the handle. The lock had always been finicky and would stick to the entry frame every now and then, so you had to bump your hip against the hard metal in order to nudge it open. You cursed under your breath. The door gave a piercing wail as you pushed on it and you took a moment to lean your body upon it's chilly surface. Your skin burned like a sizzling egg as the cold contrasted with your fiery flesh.

With bleary eyes, you glanced at your surroundings. It was dark inside, but the light that poured in from the hallway illuminated your path amongst the shadows and soaked your room in a vibrant yellow. Your tiny apartment was an absolute shit-show.

Garbage littered nearly every inch of your floor and empty bottles were strewn around like a tornado had hit. Sketchbooks and clothes were piled up in heaps and papers were crumpled into little balls that overflowed your wicker-woven trash bin. The stench of rotting food was prominent in your nose as you took a deep whiff of air.

'Because I didn't care anymore.'

From across the room you could see your intoxicated visage reflected in the mirror hanging next to your vanity, lips chapped and stained deep crimson. You winced.

'About my looks. About my weight. About what others thought of me.'

As you pushed yourself away from the door, it instantly swung shut from behind and submerged you back into obscurity.

'It all passed through me just like water passed through a river.'

Blinking through the darkness, you moved through your apartment, feet stumbling over liquor bottle after trash bag as you made your way over to your bed; sheets dirty and utterly soiled. The white cotton sunk around your legs as you sat down, leaving your feet to dangle over the edge. You knew you were at your limit as a woozy flood of lethargy washed over you in waves. Wine bottle still in hand, you unhooked the wirey plastic bag from around your wrist and let it reside still scrunched around your fingers on top of your satin, pink comforter.

'Nothing pleasured me anymore.'

You stared blankly into the chaotic mess before you, wondering how you had ever let it get this bad.

'Art.'

Running a hand through your tangled hair, you eyed the drawings that hung on your wall; a reminder of the days before the flame of your passion had been snuffed.

'Fashion.'

You kicked off your pants and threw them somewhere amongst your belongings, replacing them with worn out, frumpy sweatpants that had been balled up next to your pillow. The rumpled load of accumulated clothes had remained unwashed for weeks and began to stink of body odor and mildew.

'Friends.'

Happy polaroids clipped to photo wires showed smiling faces of friends and family and your heart tightened as you remembered only the sheer disappointment you had brought to them.

'I'd lost interest in them all.'

You rested the bottle against your pillow and took a breath.

Everyday was a chore. Exhausted and abused, your body could barely make it out of bed, let alone wash your face or shower. You knew you stunk by the way people avoided you, but you remained indifferent.

Their opinions were irrelevant now.

'Basic day to day functions were beyond me.'

Turning to look at the plastic bag still enlaced around your hand, you rummaged through it and pulled out a little orange pill bottle labeled with your name on the side. After your departure from the liquor store, you had made a pit stop to the pharmacy, picking up the anxiety meds your quack of a doctor had prescribed you.

Klonopin to be exact.

You held up the bottle against the moonlight and you could see your fucked-up face reflected amidst the glow of the pearly, apricot plastic. With shaking hands you clumsily unscrewed the cap with a soft 'click' of the child lock releasing and poured it's entire contents into your palm.

'Nothing seemed to matter anymore.'

Squinting your eyes to focus your vision, you stared down at the little pink cylinders with a vacant expression.

So this was it.

This was the choice you had finally decided to make. After years of pain and self-hatred, years of slowly letting yourself become consumed by the dark, it was finally going to end and all you had to do was swallow. You felt a wetness on your cheeks.

Oh.

You'd started to cry.

You hadn't noticed.

'Because now…'

Without a second thought, you shoved the pills into your mouth, catching the ones that fell and made sure that they made their way inside. They tasted like burnt rubber against your tastebuds, the shiny plastic coating slid with ease over your tongue and for the slightest moment you hesitated.

'...it would all…'

You grabbed the bottle of wine from its resting place against your pillow, the liquid swished around the circular glass chamber as it moved. The scent of fermented grape stung your nose as you held it close to your face and your lip quivered in grief. Bringing the tip to your mouth you closed your eyes, and devoured half of it in hungry gulps. It burned. The pills snaked their way down your throat and you swore you heard them plummet into the depths of your stomach.

'...just stop.'

A single warm drop of wine burst on your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your white baggy shirt with a red that resembled blood. You felt your head go fuzzy, your addict brain absorbing the alcohol like a sponge and suddenly the room began to swoon. Rubbing your mouth with the back of your hand, the blaring of car horns from outside began to dull and a high pitched ring vibrated from within your head.

Slowly, you fixed your gaze upon the open window beside you, the curtains swayed like ghosts at midnight.

'I'd become a walking corpse…'

No longer able to sit upright, you laid back on your elbows before sinking into your mattress with your stomach turned towards the ceiling. It felt nice, assuring even. You watched with sleepy eyes as the fan turned gently from above you, its mellow gust soft against your skin. The clock on your nightstand flashed neon green; 1:00am.

'...and today, I couldn't walk anymore'.

As your eyesight clouded and your mind began to slip, a little orb of twinkling purple light sailed by.

What's that? You blinked.

Perhaps your eyes were playing tricks on you-which would make sense, because by now you were completely inebriated. Your mind searched for a logical thought, a rational life raft before wanting to drown in the impractical. A firefly maybe, though a purple firefly? That couldn't be it.

Maybe it was an angel.

You bit back a laugh.

Whether it was from the pills or the booze, you couldn't tell, but more and more began to fill your room and floated around your apartment, a heavenly oasis of purple. It was somehow...peaceful.

You felt at ease.

Like nothing could possibly hurt you anymore.

The life in your eyes began to dissipate as your hand slipped off your bed, drooping cold, numb and listless over the side. The wine bottle dropped from your grasp and landed with a deafening 'crash' of glass shattering atop wood. Pools of red liquid soaked your floor and the foul stench of alcohol mixed with the night time air.

'I was done.'

Then, the slight smell of lavender wafted through your nose.

"Wait." You heard someone say.

Startled, you gasped. You wanted to shift your head and find the voice, but the weight of your body-sunk deep in your sheets-wouldn't allow it.

"Don't give up yet." It called again. "There's so much to live for."

Was there really? You wanted to cry out, but your throat felt thick-too dry to speak.

Suddenly, you saw yourself wading in a body of vast, open water. It lapped at your waist as if consoling you with its cool touch. Bushels of lavender were growing from beneath and small purple petals fell comparable to summer rain. A sense of calm rushed through you like a surge of energy and the feelings of pain and sorrow dispersed in the pleasant breeze.

"Don't worry. I'm here."

You turned around, searching, as you felt your pulse slow. You could hear the weakening thumps of your heart like a drum in your ears and as quickly as it had come the image dissolved and you were back, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

The spheres of light stilled, clustering above your bed like magic. The sort of magic that made you want to stare at them until you could figure out why they delighted you so. One, lone light drifted low enough to kiss your cheek and, despite the numbness, it sent a spark through your skin.

A little sparkle returned to your dwindling eyes.

Through hooded vision, you could make out a pair of hands, fluxed through the ceiling as if they were made of thin air, and reaching out towards you with amenity.

"I'm here now."

Your eyes widened at the impossible sight.

'That was until…'

A striking boy with hair the color of midday sunshine descended through the wall, his orange locks picked up the purple lights and lent him a brilliant halo. He smiled wide, levitating soundlessly from above your dying physique.

"It's so cold..." You mumbled, voice raspy.

His face fell in sympathy. "I know."

"Is it almost over?"

"Yes. I promise."

"That's good..."

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Lids heavy, you felt your eyes close and your mind drifted off into what you thought would be an endless sleep.

A hot white beacon shot through the room as the boy tenderly placed his forehead atop yours. His eyelashes fluttered like butterflies against your cheeks and he whispered words of pure love as shining, lavender wings engulfed you.

'...you came into my life.'