In a world of past heartbreaks and shattered trust, Jungkook's walls stood tall, shielding him from further pain. Taehyung, a bright presence in his dark world, sought to erase the scars etched on Jungkook's fragile heart. Devoted to cherishing him...
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Frustration was sipping him whole. Two fucking days passed Jungkook had shut himself up. Making the boy tantrum in annoyance at his friend's words.
Yoongi continuously says let him be, he craves time and others are all conceding with him. Plus when they go to the holiday location tomorrow Jungkook will be there too...
Even they all wanted nothing but the nicest for the younger. Why can't they understand if they leave him on his own because he needs space or time? Whatever the shit is! The thing will continue but he will not heal.
Because after what he knows Jungkook isn't a person who needs a silent room rather than a silent listener. After all, the tacitness isn't so welcoming when the mind is wailing.
That day after, Jungkook yelled. Everyone went silent. Thinking about why he would define the boy who harassed him? And they were pissed, to be honest. Taehyung was one of them.
His firm jaw clenched at the act, eyes throwing daggers asking in a quiet gesture but Jungkook's expression was something that he couldn't define at that time. So he just left after giving Jungkook a bitter shoulder.
Later he heard from Namjoon, Jungkook didn't look up from the ground after he was gone. Almost looked like he was crying silently. And Yoongi drove him back home at his request as he almost looked like will collapse in a minute.
Jungkook's phone was unavailable. He has tried reaching him. Jungkook's parents were unaware of all of this as per Jungkook's request to Yoongi. The plea in his eyes had the dirty blond nodding to his likings.
It was past 8 p.m. And Taehyung was driving to the familiar destination of Jungkook's home.
The time is of course odd but does he care? No. After arguing with Yoongi the male just pulled his car out with only a mindset.
Jungkook has to meet him.
He has many things to say, many things to ask. Because at a certain point, for the very first time in his life. He felt it was not just a life to live. Not a course to be done, not a path to go. Just a thing, when he knows what to do next he hopes a certain black-haired tough acting soft creature is entangled in it.
The night wind ran through his veins like ice on a zeal soul asking to be knocked and missed.
--
The almost full moon's luring light falters through the half-open window of the cold pitch-black room of a lethargic boy. He wondered what was so amusing about a blank sky with only a nature creation bargaining its place like it's been doing for centuries to centuries.
Yet it never fails to lure poets to adore it, a lost person to be thankful and a lonely boy to amuse at.
The light breeze turned the abandoned diary pages where the moonlight highlighted the neat ink with messy thoughts. He doesn't even have words to put on what he had been really feeling.
