Kim Taehyung makes a hobby of observing the rich.
The rich being primarily Jeon Jungkook and his marvelous girlfriend, Julia.
The rich sometimes get bored and ironically, the poor pay for it.
The poor being Kim Taehyung.
Alternatively, Jungkook and...
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'I still miss you in this dept of night '
Happy reading!
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Ji-woo comes down the stairs on Tuesday after a nap she was too tired not to take. Taehyung is at that point humming distractedly to himself as he cooks. Bibimbap, he's cooking, not just eggs. He's using nice ingredients as well, not ones that were on promotion because they were about to go bad.
Her hands grip a ball on the rail, dig into it until knuckles turn wide. Her eyes are wide and her voice is shrill when she calls to him, startling him into almost dropping his utensils before taking a ridiculous defensive stance.
"Tae," she shrieks. "Woojin steals."
Now, Taehyung drops his utensil and it falls to the dingy floor with a loud, penetrating ring. "What?" He responds, mirroring her alarm.
Ji-woo takes a couple of more steps down, edging closer to him. She replaces her wide eyes from him to her footing a few times. Those stairs can't be trusted even if one knows them well. "That automated car toy he wanted with a remote control that three of his friends reportedly have? He's currently playing with it. Taehyung, he stole it."
Granted, her voice is brimming with exasperated disappointment. The thing is, the Kims? They steal. Their father steals. Their brother used to steal, he doesn't anymore, to their knowledge, though they currently have no knowledge of him. Ji-woo takes things sometimes, things she knows won't be missed, little, meaningless things. Taehyung borrows things from the restaurant. The utensil currently lying at his feet, for example, he did not buy. The stainless steel got burned in a clumsy mistake of an assistant chef, so he figured they could do without it.
They do it. However, that does not mean they don't consider it wrong. It does not mean they would ever endorse their little brother doing it. Ji-woo and Taehyung have promised each other time and time again, each time their father disappears, the day their brother left for good, that Woojin's life would always be the furthest it could from that of a Kim.
Taehyung sighs, relieved, his eyes rolling backwards on their own accord as he waves a dismissive hand and bends to pick up his utensil, wiping it off on his ancient, similarly burned apron. "He didn't steal it, noona. Chill."
Ji-woo's arms fold in front of her chest as she steps towards him, the scent of his cookery reaching her senses and sneaking into her nostrils. Her brows arch. Her voice rings suspicious. "And how did he get his hands on it then?"
Taehyung hesitates, licks his lips. He has his back to her again, but feels her edging closer. He shrugs. "I bought it for him."
The shrillness and incredulity return as Ji-woo speaks. "You bought it? With what money, Taehyung? And why? Are you trying to buy his forgiveness when we still haven't paid rent- Is that brand fucking rice? Have you gone absolutely mad?"
