violent delights, bangtan

02. knock, knock

With all your equipment in hand, you began making your way towards the first patient, eyes scanning over the paper in the tray once again. The first name on the list was Jeon Jungkook, and as you read further down, you noticed a familiar name, Park Jimin. That was the name you had seen on the doctors paper earlier. You regretted not wearing your contacts today, or at least bringing your glasses, maybe that could've helped you see what was written and ease your mind.

Excited, but a little bit nervous, you quickened your pace to find his room. It wasn't far from Dr. Hans, which made it quite easy to find.

Jeon Jungkook had the same type of door as the doctors, in fact all the doors in this corridor seemed to be the same, except this one contained more writing on its label. His name was written in bold, followed with eating disorder right beside it.

You brought up your hand and knocked thrice, leaning in closer to hear a voice to invite you in. When that voice didn't come, you hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the cold metallic handle, pushing the door open and revealing a room that seemed to drain every essence of colour from the world, a stark contrast from Dr. Hans place. For a second, you wondered if all the upcoming rooms would be like this.

The only blasts of colour that were visible was the small, green plant perched on a bedside table, its leaves providing a welcome burst of life amidst the sea of monotony, and the very few canvases adorning the walls, each one a splash of various hues. Yet, the rest of the room seemed to exist in a realm of blandness, a symphony of whites, greys, and blacks.

Just as you were stuck in your own mind, a sudden clearing of a throat jolted you back to reality. "Oh, sorry," you apologized, voice tinged with a hint of surprise. Hurriedly, you made your way over to the bed where he was seated, gently placing the tray down on the table. This time, you took the chance to look at the man sat in front of you. His dark jet black hair kept falling in front of his eyes, blocking his vision and causing him to have to fix it every so often. He was dressed in a very light blue hospital gown, and even he seemed to be void of any colour, his skin a pale white.

The man, who sat crossed legged on his bed, looked up at you with big, doe eyes. You noticed the faint bags beneath his eyes, but he seemed to be fully alert and awake, once again confusion set in your body and you wondered why he didn't respond to your knocking.

"You need something?" he inquired.

"I'm Y/N, I'm here as a volunteer." you smiled politely, hoping for it to be replicated by Jungkook. But, of course, it wasn't.

He sat there expressionless, sighing as he released his legs and sat up straight. "Let's do this quickly."

You handed him the small cup containing water, and poured some of the pills into his hand which he downed in one gulp and quickly placed it back down onto the tray with a wince.

Once again, your gaze shifted towards the paintings adorning the right wall, and Jungkook shifted his gaze towards you. He took the moment to admire your face without you knowing, watching as you admired something of his.

"Do you paint?" you stupidly asked, suddenly feeling the awkwardness of the silence.

"Mhm. Do you?"

"No, but I admire. I've always wanted to paint but I don't know how." your eyes wandered back to the painting that initially captivated you, looking back at a mesmerizing blend of blues, oranges, purples, and pinks. The canvas seemed to come alive with a symphony of vibrant colors, each hue dancing and intertwining with the others.