𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓.
❝I once heard that people die in love, cara mia, but I never believed it until the day I lost you❞
❚ ❚ ⧽ ✎ in which, love never ends. Even after death.
── ★〔 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘦/𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 〕
ꗃ don't like? don't read. we...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
[DECADES LATER]
────﹒★﹒────
It was the early days of autumn, the crisp air swirling through the streets, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and distant fires.
Jungkook startled when his phone rang "Yes eomma" He spoke up after picking up, smiling softly, his phone attached to his left ear.
"Have you eaten your lunch, koo?"
"I ate, don't worry."
There was a pause on the other end, a familiar sigh of disbelief.
"You're shaking your head, aren't you?" she accused playfully, making him chuckle. She always knew.
"Maybe a little," The omega admitted with a grin, even though she couldn't see it. "But I did eat, I promise."
She hummed, not entirely convinced. "Take care of yourself my baby, don't overwork yourself"
Jungkook shook his head again, even though she wasn't there to see it. Her constant concern could sometimes be overbearing, but it was moments like this that made him feel so loved.
A while later, he stepped off the bus, the omega's golden blonde hair catching the late afternoon light as he tugged his scarf tighter against the breeze. His footsteps quickened and he approached the old, quaint library nestled in the heart of town where he worked-a familiar sanctuary of books and memories, the sound of the bell above the door a comforting chime as he entered.
The scent of old books and fresh coffee enveloped him, behind the counter a old man was standing, face breaking into a soft smile as he glanced at his book.
"Late today?"
Jungkook smiled sheepishly, shaking his head as he set down his bag. "Hello, Mr. Kim. The bus wasn't on time again."
The old man chuckled. "Ah, the bus. Always unpredictable, just like the weather."
The omega shook his head his cheeks lightly flushed from the chill outside as he skipped past the counter to his usual spot by the shelves. Those shelves were tall and towering, filled with books that had seen countless hands, each holding a different story, each holding a part of someone's life.
His fingers brushed over several books before they landed on a familiar one-a worn, old volume that had captivated his heart from the moment he found it. It was almost falling apart, its cover frayed and its pages yellowed, but it held something priceless within it: the letters, the poems, the thoughts of a man long gone but never forgotten.
His long fingers clasped the book, the omega's heart skipped a beat. Mr. Kim glanced over at him and shook his head, a soft, knowing smile on his face.
