Savior | Taekook

4. Reflection

Third Person POV :

He found himself standing in Jungkook's walk-in closet, glancing at the clothes that were lined up neatly on the shelves. It was hard to focus on them, honestly. He just reached for a random hoodie and sweatpants, but his attention was suddenly caught by a figure staring back at him. The confusion on that face looked so familiar-it was his own reflection.

As he moved closer to the full-length mirror, he couldn't shake off the feeling of disbelief. Was he really looking at himself? The last image that came to his mind was of an eight-year-old boy, half the size of this reflection, so small and innocent, not this-whatever this was. Tears welled up in his eyes as he instinctively reached out to touch the glass, completely oblivious to the presence of another man behind him.

He was staring at the bruises over his face that looked painfully ugly. Then, he heard a throat clear, and he spun around, startled. Jungkook was there, standing at a distance. There was an unmistakable tension in the air. Jungkook looked hesitant, as though he recognized the unease swirling around them.

'Are you okay?' he seemed to want to ask, but instead, he just stood there awkwardly. The sight of the boy's tear-filled eyes seemed to tug at something in him, but he kept his distance. He won't involve more than necessary. It wasn't in his nature. This was all just...temporary, right? He was only here for a little while.

With an awkward smile, Jungkook pointed to a shelf and a drawer. "You can find towels in this shelf and...um...boxers in that drawer." His voice was shaky, maybe unsure, and then he left the room, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation.

The boy turned back to the mirror one last time, his mind still grappling with the reflection. This was grown-up him, but it didn't feel quite right, felt more like a heart break. He had wanted to grow up, to be able to protect himself in a world that felt so unforgiving. Yet, here he was, feeling like he hadn't really escaped anything at all, still unsure about everything. It felt complicated, too complicated. Did growing up even mean being free?

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When Jungkook returned to the room, he found the stranger sitting in the middle of his bed, looking so small in his oversized hoodie and sweatpants. The boy's fingers were nervously playing with the hem of his long sleeves, and his brown locks were slightly damp, clinging to his forehead. It seemed he hadn't dried it after his shower.

A gentle smile spread across Jungkook's face as he took in the adorable sight before him. "You're still recovering, you know. You should take care of yourself, or you might catch a cold with your hair wet like this," he said softly, his voice involuntarily reflecting his concern.

As Jungkook moved closer, he noticed the boy beginning to tremble, his hands forming tight fists as he clutched the sheets. Despite Jungkook's gentle words, a palpable fear radiated from him.

"Take this..." Jungkook urged gently, extending his hand toward the boy, but he remained too frightened to even glance up.

Frustration welled within Jungkook. He, who typically avoided getting involved in such matters, was trying to help, but this dumb, foolish, clueless yet cute boy's reluctance was making it difficult. He is trying to talk gently despite not being good with people. Can't he see his efforts? What's there to be so afraid of-as if he was looking like a monster?