.
.
.It was a street where the elms reached an ideal height beside the quiet road, hiding the houses of the suburbs, which were tucked safely behind them.
They were rows of meek and rich ideal houses on a gentle slope. It seemed to Jungkook like it was a neighborhood from american movies where calm and wealthy people lived, whose wives visited each other while their husbands were at work or while they were playing chess in the other room.
As soon as he parked his car in front of one of those houses, he took a deep breath.
He turned off the car engine, and immediately the sound and clamor of children rushed into his ears. He looked at Nadira who was fixing her hijab and she was holding red lipstick in her hands to fix her make-up even better. Zunair in the back seat looked confused at the balloon that suddenly flew up to the sky and thus gave away the location of the children's party and celebration.
Jungkook clutched the gift bags and a bouquet of flowers as he swallowed the lump. All the time he wondered if he could bear all the burden that fell on his back.
Could he bear to see him again?
Why did he awaken an inexplicable interest in him and why did he allow the memories to haunt him and burn into his consciousness?
- Honey, let's go. - Nadira's eyes watched the man staring at one point in front of him, nodding palely.
She couldn't understand why Jungkook was so brooding for long periods of time, even though he seemed cold and disinterested on the outside. Inside him, everything was the opposite.
He irredeemably remembered the smell of the sheets while he was reclining in the pillows in the cottage in Morocco, as well as every grain of sand that they tread thoughtfully that spring. Even images of the patterned carpet that was in Taehyung's suite in that hotel he always visited flashed through his mind.
The details disturbed him and didn't allow him to continue.
- Let's go.
A black-haired woman opened the door with a smile, while holding colorful birthday bags and gifts in her hands. Next to her stood a boy of decent height for a seven year old. His black hair was thick and neatly styled. It reminded Jungkook of someone he hadn't seen in a long time.
It was normal and completely natural.
Behind the smiling woman, several children could be seen running past chasing the small dog. Balloons filled every corner of the beautifully decorated house, and their frivolity didn't at all spoil the appearance of the antiques that were proudly displayed.
- Oh, welcome... Jungkook! - the woman gave him a small bow as she put the bags down in the corner behind the door, and then she looked back at the little boy who was squeezing his mother's hand.
Marissa was the same as he remembered all those years ago. Beautiful and classy, tall with freckles that gave her a strange glow.
- Thank you for the invite, Mrs. Kim. This is my wife Nadira and my son Zunair... - the man pointed to his family and didn't even blink and the women found themselves in each other's arms.
- Jungkook! Call me Marissa, dear. Nice to meet you, Nadira... oh, what beautiful jewelry... and your son is cute too. Come in. - a typical greeting to strangers.
How hypocritical. ~ Jungkook thought.
And he was sure that the two women would get along very well if they lived in the same suburb of the city and that they would happily drink coffee while gossiping about their husbands, and then pass it all on to those same husbands while sharing a pillow with them at bedtime.
YOU ARE READING
• M a k t u b : Spirit of the desert • [ Taekook ]
Fanfiction》Completed《 Jungkook has been living in Morocco for years, where he runs a successful company. As a decent young man and a good opportunity, Mr. Muhammad, the most influential man in Marrakesh wants his daughter to marry him. Althought at first a di...