TAEKOOK / TIGER LILY

13.

Taehyung doesn't know what to expect of Jungkook when he's to see him next. It's not exactly something Taehyung himself is familiar with — being gentle and pearlescent beneath the pastel illusion of sunlight; his colour palette is usually neon, jewels and bright lights that expose all his insecurities. Simply, he's not used to having kissed someone with such affection; he's not used to reacting to tender love and care. And, he somewhat suspects Jeon Jungkook is the same.

Still, he doesn't expect to be completely ignored by the boy.

After returning Taehyung home, Jungkook had disappeared to give Jimin's bike back; the brunette had sank into the chair on the patio, beneath the translucent sunset, teal berries on his tongue, as Namjoon had been pouring tea. The tea had a single petal floating in the mug, and it left stains of marigold in his throat. Still, nothing could remove the taste of Jeon Jungkook's lips that scorch his own mouth with their melting pot of hot, hot vanilla, chocolate and pomegranate.

He'd texted Jungkook later that night, nothing much, just a brief mention of how much fun he'd had. But, Jungkook didn't reply.

Taehyung went to bed with sunburned lips.

In the morning, he'd found his message had been read but the boy hadn't responded.

Suddenly he felt something sour squeeze at his heart. It's been slithering up his throat all day, has been making it's way to the backs of his eyeballs; it's restricting his vision, all that lemon juice, preventing him from seeing clearly.

And Jungkook doesn't visit him that night. Or, indeed, the next night.

Taehyung texts him again on the third night, like a fool, asking if he's okay.

Five days later and Taehyung's eyes are a cashmere spiral of lime-green and lemon-yellow; his citrus gaze passes along the dusty, brown hue of the streets, as he accompanies Namjoon into town, trying his best to mask his bitter innards.

He should be used to it.

He berates himself throughout the entirety of his days and nights, all the while, trying to maintain regularity amongst his uncles.

Namjoon takes him to buy bait for a fishing excursion they've planned with Seokjin, and Taehyung pretends to be amused with the maggots he sees, as if they're not already hurrying inside his own body, canoodling with his own state of rigor mortis.

"Seokjin is so excited about this, you know, Tae?" Namjoon laughs to himself, giggling at the fond memories of his partner being so desperate to take the young boy out. "He's such a fishing expert now, I swear, he adores it more than life itself. I reckon he'd sell his voice to gain a fish tail, in exchange of human legs, you know."

Taehyung's mouth flicks upward, smiling despite the foul mood that's taking form of a snowstorm inside him. "You think so?"

Namjoon nods, as he pays for his boxes of fish bait. "Oh yeah," He laughs, "always so obsessed with water, and all the marvels of the ocean." He pauses, turning to converse with the shop-keeper.

Taehyung can't help but imagine Seokjin as one of the evil mermaids he'd sketched; scales for skin and slits for pupils, with a forked tongue and gills in his neck. Taehyung thinks it doesn't suit him, despite all the glittering mist of magic that accompanies the notion.

Namjoon drags them out a moment later, all silky smiles and fluorescent teeth, as he continues on with the conversation. "I sometimes wonder why we didn't just move to the seaside. Heaven knows it would make him feel happier."

"He's not happy now?" Taehyung frowns, clinging onto all the thoughts that Namjoon introduces him to. He needs them, needs to consume them.

"He is." Namjoon quickly fixes his previous words, elaborating with a sly grin, "but there's always room to be happier."