The House of a Mind | Yoonkook [Discontinued]

7

It was one of the worst things he has ever done, Jungkook thought.

He stayed in bed for the entire next day, banging his head against a real or invisible wall, asking himself way he had to be so idiotic.

Yoongi probably didn't even hear him and he was just wasting his time. He could've left just when Jungkook gained the courage to speak.

Jungkook concluded that suffering to earn nothing was one of the worst things to come up in life. Maybe as bad as living in the same hotel as a psychopath.

Jungkook felt like he was going insane. Maybe not in the psychopathic way, but in a self-pitying way. Without the tears and the party. Seems as if when there's nothing around you, the affects that cause affects repeat forever until you're down to nothing all because you notice it's happening.

But Jungkook was no philosopher.

He sighed. Why was this all going on in a place where nothing was supposed to happen? Was he just weird?

A few knocks on the door were enough to shake Jungkook out of that state.

He stared in the direction of the front door, which was just the wall of his room, and waited for Yoongi to speak.

"Hello Jungkook."

Jungkook choked on his spit and immediately began coughing onto his wrist. His body quivered as he tried to save his own life, his arms bumping into his shirt sleeves.

Was it true that he heard him? Was his mind making it up? Well, that was his voice. Or maybe it's just a dream.

He was able to clear his throat in the midst of asking those questions to himself.

Jungkook pinched his arm. The slight pain made him scrunch his nose, and then he was sure that it wasn't a dream. The muffled sting did nothing but hurt him and fill him with more regret.

"You have a nice name." Yoongi complimented, "It's like...sporty, but also very soft. Mine is just a feminine masculine name. Well, that's how I see it at least."

I think it's the perfect name for a pianist.

Jungkook looked around to try and spot the man. His head turned quickly, frantically, as he searched up and around the room. When he saw no shadow but his own, Jungkook stared down at the grey blanket that covered the bed. His energy left his body to reflect a bright orange onto the walls, which huddled into the corner closest to him before soaking through it, leaving no remains.

"Your voice also follows that." He added, "You had to have taken some sport before."

I played badminton...

"You should talk more. Your voice is really lovely. Way better than my old-man voice."

Jungkook heard a faint laugh as he curled his toes, his ears turning pink. The man still hadn't shown up.

"Anyways, I'm just blabbering on at this point. You doing okay?"

Jungkook wanted to reply, "Better than yesterday", but he didn't know how the man would react to that. What would happen afterwards, especially.

It was a long while of silence, and Jungkook began to wonder if Yoongi really was waiting for him to answer. Or maybe he left. If he did, then Jungkook couldn't blame him. Who would want to stay around with someone who wouldn't say anything back? And sure it was a horrible feeling, but horrible feelings are what makes us think. Bad things are in a way, good. But philosophy wasn't Jungkook's strong-suit, so he just assumed he was speaking gibberish and moved on by getting off his bed and leaving the room, not closing the door behind him.

He really wished he wore pockets as he walked down the hall so his longtime habit was quenched. The wood under him creaked as Jungkook took each step. His socks began to get cold from the floor and made him look down, seeing his past footprints scattered around ahead of him as he neared the staircase.

When he got there, Jungkook stopped just at the top and looked down the flight. There wasn't much to see as a wall covered the door from the angle he was in. Less dust was down there but one or two footprints were still noticeable. He was stretching time, then immediately made his way down the stairs.

Jungkook kept a hand on the railing once he reached the bottom, staring at the wooden door in question. Was Yoongi still there? Even he didn't know what he was doing.

The man still didn't show up. Jungkook began thinking he was alone.

The entire house was silent besides the wind bumping into the walls every now and again. The only light came from the sun, which wasn't all that bright. No life was there to interrupt. The TV was waiting in anticipation.

Jungkook, with a subconscious deep breath, made his way to the door with the same slow pace as before. It wasn't that far; less than ten steps and he was there. His mind, though, was still back in his room, trying to sleep.

Jungkook had an expectation and knew it would happen. He tested it by lifting his hand to the door, and knocking twice as loud as he could.

Just like he thought, another spell was cast. The living room light flickered, stayed on for a few seconds, then switched off. The TV switched on a show pretending nothing happened. The silence was covered.

And when Jungkook turned around to see the light, he flinched when he saw the man staring at him next to the couch. His stare at that moment could compete with a horror film.

"Jungkook?"

Jungkook turned back around at the door, the man still on his mind. Well, not exactly a perfect photo, but the feeling he brought was still there. A feeling that Jungkook named long ago the same. Everyone knows riddles.

But where were we? The rules are cracking. Code red. The man. It's with us. As real as the air we breathe.

...

"You're still here?"