**Reckless Relapse**

Reckless Relapse Taehyun's eyes lingered on the screen, his mind racing with questions. Who could have sent that message? And how did they know about the stash? The uncertainty sent a shiver down his spine, but as he stood there, the phone still clutched in his hand, he felt his thoughts slowly unravel, like a thread pulled from a sweater. The message, and the fear it had sparked, began to fade from his mind, leaving behind a dull haze. He looked down at the drawer, his gaze drawn back to the colorful array of pills and powders. His hand began to tremble once more, and this time, it wasn't fear that drove his movements. It was a familiar hunger, a craving that had been dormant for so long. The rationalizations began to creep back in, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Just one hit wouldn't hurt, would it? As he stood there, his hand hovering over the drawer, Taehyun felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. The message on his phone was forgotten, lost in the depths of his mind, and all that was left was the drawer, and the temptation it offered. He opened the drawer, and a faint scent wafted out, transporting him back to a time when his life was a mess. The memories came flooding back, but they were distant, muffled, as if he was watching someone else's life unfold. Taehyun's fingers began to move of their own accord, reaching into the drawer, and pulling out a small vial. He held it up, mesmerized by the liquid inside, and for a moment, he felt like he was staring at an old friend. His thumb hovered over the lid, and he felt a thrill run through him. It was like no time had passed at all, and he was back in the same vicious cycle, chasing the highs, and hiding from the lows. The thought should have scared him, but it didn't. All he felt was a dull numbness, and a sense of inevitability. Taehyun's eyes never left the vial as he turned, and walked back to the couch. He sat down, his movements mechanical, and unscrewed the lid. The familiar scent filled the air, and he felt his heart rate slow, his breathing steady. For a moment, he just sat there, the vial in his hand, and the drawer still open, like an open invitation to his demons. And then, he forgot. Forgot about the message on his phone, forgot about his fears, and forgot about the progress he had made. All he knew was the rush, the high, and the sense of escape it offered. The world around him began to blur, and all that was left was the substance, and the darkness it promised.