When Fantasy Became Reality | BTS

Chapter 50

"Her salty eyes
told me stories,
that made my heart weep.
I wanted to wrap her
in a blanket,
and tell her
she was safe forever---
and so I did.

-Atticus

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Taraa's POV

"The thunderstorms...are you afraid of them because of...?" Jungkook trailed off.

"So you noticed, huh? Yeah, it was raining cats and dogs the day I escaped. There was lighting and violent storms. But all in all, it made it easier for me to escape." I sighed, remembering that night.

There was heavy silence so I decided to break it by concluding everything.

"This is all I will be able to tell you now. There are many questions which I myself don't know the answers to." I muttered, planning to tell Jungkook more about 'Sunflower' some other day.

"That's fine, baby. It was so brave of you to tell me all this. It must have been difficult as it made you relive those traumatic events." Jungkook's voice cracked at the end.

I hadn't looked at him throughout our conversation, and now that I did, I saw tears in his eyes.

"Hey, love...what happened?" I cupped his cheeks.

"Its just...all this happened and I was not there for you at that time." his voice cracked.

"That's ridiculous!" I exclaimed and held his hands. "Listen! I found you...all of Bangtan...at the right time. I don't think there could have been a better time. I am fine now and that's what matters, right?" I asked him, my own tears threatening to fall.

He nodded and replied, "Yeah. You are right."

He wiped his tears and mine too.

He seemed curious and it looked like he wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

"Your scars...were they given by them?" he asked.

I nodded, biting my inner cheek.

"Can you show it to me?" he again asked, cautiously.

Without saying anything, I folded my sleeves up to my shoulders and showed him the faded scars. It was probably his first time seeing it as I always wore full sleeves in front of others.

To hide these scars.

Jungkook caressed his fingers on them so lightly, as if he was afraid that his one touch would break me.

Among all the faded scars, there stood one that just started below my left shoulder. There was bit of protuberance and the skin looked almost dead.

When his fingers reached it, his breath hitched. He started tracing the index finger on it, and went upto my shoulder when my cloth blocked his finger.

He looked me in the eye and grabbed the hem of my top, lifting it up slightly. "Can I?" he asked, and I knew what he meant.