Sky Full of Stars | Taekook

2. Old Friends

Taehyung walked down the sidewalk at dusk. The street lamps were just beginning to come on as the sky turned to the color of ink.

He scuffed his Pumas on the pavement, with one hand in the pocket of his trackpants, the other hand clutching a bouquet of lilies, he kept his head down as he counted cracks in the sidewalk.

He took a left turn into the cemetery, walking through cast iron gates that stood open.

It felt so familiar despite the time that had passed.

The cemetery was so quiet that he was able to retreat far into his own head, putting one foot in front of the other along the uneven ground punctuated by overgrown roots.

He was ejected from his trance by leaves rustling several yards away.

Jungkook trudged along, clearly heading in the opposite direction. He looked up, face dropping when he saw Taehyung.

Their eyes met for a brief moment. Taehyung's hand came up, holding the bouquet. He meant to wave but it was more of a numb acknowledgement.

"Hi-," he offered, not thinking, the greeting coming out of sheer reflex.

Jungkook was standing still, rooted to his spot in the wooded area of the cemetery, surrounded by gravestones old and new.

His eyes were icy, locked onto the older, nodding once, slow and guarded.

Nothing much happened, Taehyung watched for a moment, feeling suffocated by the pretense. Jungkook could barely keep it together, he began to drag himself towards the gates, a storm cloud over his head.

"Don't talk to me," he issued, tone clipped, "Don't even look at me."

Then he didn't look back until he reached the far side of the gate. And then he was gone.

Taehyung drooped. He stumbled through the rows, feeling confused and irritated.

This wasn't new. So why did it feel like a sunburn?

🌌🌌🌌

Jungkook stomped home, hands curled into fists inside his pockets. When he arrived, he slammed the door behind himself and threw his keys harshly onto the kitchen counter.

"He's still fucking here," he announced, ice cold into the phone.

Jimin made an upside down finger gun and pointed it at himself, cradling the phone against his shoulder, "Why does it matter?"

He rolled his eyes hard and crossed his legs under the covers.

Jungkook took a deep breath, "Why wouldn't it matter? It's like he's taunting me at the cemetery too now," he exclaimed, throwing himself onto the couch.

"It's his cemetery too," Jimin mumbled, mouth full of skittles, "Was he really taunting you?"

It seemed unlikely, he thought.

"Basically," Jungkook argued, face hot, "Just the fact that he spoke to me shows that he doesn't think it's a big deal, or even care, which makes it feel like a huge joke or something."

Jimin fought the urge to groan, "I see how you might feel that way," he lied, mustering up as much of his leftover high school drama club skill as he could find, "I'm guessing-"

Jungkook didn't miss a beat, cutting Jimin off before he could form a cogent thought.

"Don't lie, I know you can't," he said in a very accusatory tone, "I know you like him better than me."