Bottles.
Everywhere.
The remaining signs of smoke still floats in the air.
You pick up the last broken piece of glass and dump it into the trash bin.
After surviving through thick shards of glass and the stench of alcohol, your father had finally collapses on the couch.
The same routine in repeat. You wonder when this cursed regime will come to an end. You're tired of this. But even if you want to put a stop to all of this, you know it's far from your abilities.
Locking the door to your bedroom, you press your back against it and painfully slide to sit.
It's already ten in the evening but even your lethargic body can't sway you in bed.
Maybe a walk in the park will help.
Right.
It always does.
Grabbing a cap and a hoodie, you escape the torture hole you call a home and saunter into the dark.
When moments become unbearable and you just need to take a few steps back from reality, the park becomes your haven.
Aside from those reckless teenagers, no one comes here during the night.
You'd sat they're missing out on a lot. It's more peaceful this way. With no noise and sun to burn your energy down. Nature's sound works as a therapeutic melody to the soul. Maybe that's why you're still able to keep yourself together.
The bench beneath you feels cold under your fingers.
Yet it's enough to heat up the freezen whirlwind taking claim of your body.
For the mean time, you'll relish every second of this peace.
You rest your head back, closing your eyes as the melody of the night brushes past your ears.
Today was hard.
Father once again barged in with his group of friends. If you should even call them that. They trashed the house with bottles and wrappers, smoked the whole afternoon away.
It's hard watching him surround himself with useless people. But as much as you'd want to extend a reaching hand, he won't allow you to go near him.
All because you looked like your mother.
And it's not fair.
You swallow thickly, forcing these thoughts to go away.
Because the more you dwell in the source of your father's harsh advances, the more you'll come to hate yourself.
The first drop of rain lands on your face but you remain still. It goes on for a second until suddenly, it stops.
Suspiciousness swamps your veins. The repeating drums of rain can still be heard but why aren't you getting flooded by them?
You flutter your eyes open.
An umbrella.
And you think you already know who it is.
"What do you think you're doing here?"
You've become too accustomed with that voice you could recognize it even from miles away.
The low timbre of a tone that can shake even the hearts of people.
It's annoying.
"You know-" You start off, fixing the way you're sitting. Then tilting your head up so you connect with those firm eyes, you say. "- I still don't know how you always manage to find me. Do you have a spy watching me or what?"
He's clad in a black shirt that barely protects him from the cold, accompanied by grey sweatpants. His hair's ruffled and tousled. As if he had just gotten out of bed.
You feel like you're about to die from the way he's glaring at you.
"You didn't answer my question."
As always. He's observant. He know youres trying to escape the question.
No rooms for play. He wants you to answer him.
But it's not like you're not prepared for it.
You stretch your leg, digging your fingers inside your pocket.
"Oh me? I just felt like going to the park."
"This late at night? You know how dangerous it can get, Y/-"
"Save the lecture, Kook." You interrupt him with a chuckle. "It's not like ime five or anything. I can take care of myself."
Silence reigns for a few seconds before he let's out a sigh, chest rising and falling.
"Get up. I'll walk you home."
"If you say so."
You glue yourself next to him, enough so the rain doesn't hit you.
After three minutes of walking, you notice how half of his body isn't under the umbrella.
So you do the thing a normal person would do. Grab the umbrella and push it towards him.
Jungkook glares down at you and you attack him with your reason.
"You're getting wet over there."
Ignoring you, he brings the umbrella back to your side.
"Fine. Be stubborn. But dont blame me if you catch a cold."
You dont have to look at him to know he had just rolled his eyes from your statement. You know him all too well.
Minutes eventually goes by and you're finally standing in front of your house.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Go."
It's too early to go back though. Normally, you'd have just stayed the night at the park, return before your father wakes up and the leave for school.
But since Jungkook showed up, the plan changed.
"Thanks." You say, repeating the word when you notice how shaky it came out the first time. "I mean thanks for walking me home."
He nudges you to go inside with his chin.
Behind you, your fingers clasp into a fist as a forced smile takes the sides of your lips. "Yeah, I'll go. Night Kook."
And with that, you finally enter the house.
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Sorry, Im An Anti-Romantic | JJK
Fanfiction"Let's get one thing straight. We're friends. But you're still mine. Okay?" - Highest Ranking : #59 in FanFiction Highest Ranking : #17 in BTS