Co-Exist {BTS hybrid AU}

Unlikely Siblings.

I had grown up with hybrids. 

Me.

 An ordinary girl who had an extraordinary father. I never knew my mother, but from what my father told me she was beautiful, a goddess sent to him from the heavens. But this story isn't about her. This is about me. 

To some, that might sound egotistical but think about it long and hard. Could you ever miss someone that you didn't know? Sure it might seem like a part of you is missing, a motherly figure to confide in, but if you didn't have it in the first place, could you miss it? 

The answer to me is simple. No. I cannot change your mind, we are all free to make our choices whether they may be good or bad; you just have to face the consequences. Like I did. 

Let me ask you something. Just you. Nobody else. Have you ever wonde- you know what, this is off topic. Eventually you will ask yourself this. As my story continues and you indulge yourself in my wrong doings. Accusation after accusation you throw at me because of your opinions. Let me tell you something, your opinions don't matter to me, the insults you will give me for my decisions. None of it matters because in the end you can never understand.

-

I moved to Korea when I was about four years old, my father had some 'critical business' to attend to in Busan. Being a curious little thing, I had rummaged through his office when he disappeared when I was supposed to be sleeping. I wish I could tell you what I found amongst the papers, unfortunately that is not as far back as I can remember. I don't believe he ever found out about my small adventures, if he did, he never scolded me. He would do that a lot. 

I do remember one stormy night when I was drawing by my desk, father had brought home a small boy. I wasn't able to see him that night, of course, but at the brink of daybreak I had dragged myself through the halls to the room that casted a beautiful shadow across the carpeted floor. Nobody had ever used the spare rooms, not even father. I remember the cold wood against my knuckles as I knocked, I remember the small hiss from behind the door. My first instinct was that whoever was inside was injured, nobody had made such a noise apart from Polly - my pet cat back in Australia. 

I sprinted into the room with almost no hesitation, taking in the surroundings. The place was elegant but at the time I guess I was too young to understand the importance of such a fine detail. A pillow-sized lump shifted under the silky covers of the bed. The boy, I must have assumed. Being a child, you would have thought I was excited to meet someone new, to jump on them like on a sugar rush. 

Looking back on it, even though I had snooped through my fathers things and probably done many other things against God's practice, I had adequate manners when it came to people. I remember making my way towards the bed, sitting at the far end, watching the boy flinch away from the indent I had created. 

And I spoke to him. 

I never understood how interaction with children worked, so I spoke through my fathers perspective. I reassured the shivering boy beneath the sheets, trying my best to connect with him. It felt weird - speaking to myself with someone listening. It felt weird - having someone else in the household. 

 The one thing I have never been able to forget was when just as the grandfather clock struck six'o'clock the boy removed his sheets from his face , a somewhat attempt of a scowl on his face as he wrapped the sheets around his body.  I remember giving him a smile as I took in his features. Even being a mere four year old you could tell something was wrong.