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The thunder echoed through the air, rumbling with the power of an impending storm.
Could Jimin still be there?
He thought to himself once again as the bus passed by the same road, his mind dragging him back to the painful memory of the day he left.
Half a year ago was when Jungkook returned home, and in the five years of his absence, a lot had happened. Jimin's house finally got fully painted, or so his mother told him. The color was what had him shocked. Grey, the one color Jimin despised.
He believed firmly that Jimin's family still lived there, that Jimin somehow in 5 years' time had decided that he loved grey, that his mother would still water her plants every day while he sat exchanging glances between the sunset and the book he left unread ages ago.
The bus halted abruptly, stalled by a passing train. His gaze fixed on the railway crossing, but his mind wandered far beyond the tracks. Lost in the clatter of wheels on rails, he succumbed to the embrace of old memories.
In the split second of the bus resuming its journey, his eyes caught a figure emerging from the library across the street. The hope that had washed over him had a bitter aftertaste.