Love is half

49

Lines. All jungkook could see is lines.

The small ramen store at the corner of the street is rather busy, as it was a Saturday evening. His palm is rather sticky over the clothed table, sweat bubbles builds up between the fold of his skin with lotion and it is stained with shade of pencil. An empty table boldly stands in front of him, few steps away, another table is consumed by two teenage boys whispering words to each other while looking down at the book on the table and a girl sits in front of them, headphones warm against her ears as she traces down with curve of her boney fingers on the paper, her hair is dull but shines enough to catch the eyes of the lights.

Jungkook already imagines the other papers on her sketchbook filled many of her thoughts and skills, a vase with flower as petal lazily falling on the floor, a hand of her lover or a person neatly  resting on surface with fine details of veins and wrinkles of skins, or simply an art of something unnamable that only she is capable of naming that what and who it is and is it even a thing to begin with or just art? There are endless combination that his hazy mind imagines as he stares at her sketchbook, he doesn't quite feel the loneliness he should be feeling when his eyes flickers to the empty chair in front of him, no, loneliness wouldn't quite fit, observing might be the word which he still isn't quite sure of.

In some way, she reminds him of himself.

His attention is in nowhere particular as more than new people crowding the usually busy ramen shabby building though the environment is anything but shabby, it is a state of peace and quietness nobody wants to leave, the light is dim and various colored paper plane and origamis hangs from the ceiling, floats on air with the help of string so invisible sometimes Jungkook zones out and imagines them flying without any. It is a place where you don't leave out any particular memory, rather a place where you sit and won't remember it in future but the feeling, the peace would forever be there.

Observing, Jeon Jungkook has been observing for months.

Like voices speaking on the counter with the man behind it, the rule for Jungkook is to take notes on behavior of people and try to figure out why they are behaving the way they are. He never fears of someone staring at him and wondering why this boy has been sitting here for four months every or twice a week for hours and scribble down on notes.

He wasn't a daydreamer, he didn't want to be one anymore, maybe that's why he has been soaking himself with reality, reality that other would find silly and insignificant, but reality he sees when a middle age woman holding her child on her chest and trying to hold back a smile from blooming on her lips when the small boy wiggles his feet and gently kicks the head of his pink shoes over her stomach, reality he sees when a brown locked haired boy shyly glancing at the girl from afar and looking away as her delicate hair curls over her shoulder as he brings the cup to his mouth to hide the crimson on his cheeks, reality..he sees when a man stands outside the store gazing up to the sky as his faded dyed blue hair caresses the salty air of summer with a cylindrical stick placed between his dry lips, Jungkook wonders if his lungs were blackened and filled with chemicals, slowly dying just like rest of everyone but with a higher chance.

It has been four months.

Four months and Jungkook is still waiting for his only daydream to come back, Taehyung.