abstract | jungkook

Chapter Nine

"What's up with you and food?" I stare at Yoongi on the walk back to my apartment. We were both currently pulling our weight in gold with the bags of snacks we were carrying.

"It seems to be the only thing that makes you feel better." Yoongi retorts, putting me in my place. I still wasn't in the joking mood what with all that was happening, but I managed for Yoongi. And he did the same.

"Is that an insult?"

Yoongi shrugged. "Only if you make it one." I'd convinced myself that this whole Jungkook going MIA mess was beginning to affect Yoongi as well. He knew how happy Jungkook made me, and even Yoongi was used to seeing the same bunny smile at his work every single day. Anybody could get attached to it. And when taken away, it could crush almost anyone.

I dug into my pockets with my one free hand searching desperately for my house key. As soon as I found it and the door materialized in front of us, I immediately recognized the small piece occupying some space in front of my door.

It brought back a routine that I was used to seeing every single night at my door step. It had to be it. It had to be him.

Once the pieces clicked together in my mind, I ran. I just ran to my door without a second thought as the bags slipped from my arms unconsciously falling to the wet ground with out a care. "I payed for those!" I ignore Yoongi's yelling from behind me for the smile on my face was too distracting.

I slid to my knees, not caring about the rips in my jeans, and scooped up the painting. Caressing it in my arms, I pressed my lips to its frame. Sudden droplets forming on top of it until I noticed I was crying. I felt a finger wipe them away before I could ruin the masterpiece, realizing Yoongi was right next to me by now.

The familiar signiture of Jeon Jungkook cured my usual suspicions. Typically each work of art symbolized a single memory from Jungkook and I's day. Each representing something fun and new to remember.

But this... this painting was foreign to me. The dark black and white colors gave off a more ominous feeling than the rest. I shivered unknowingly at the thought.

A dark alleyway shown on the frame. Narrow pathways with trash cans and garages littering the picture with a single figure in the middle. He seemed out of place. I was confused. "How can this be a regular painting of his?" I voiced my thoughts aloud.

"It's not," Yoongi's voice made me jump, almost dropping the painting before he took it into his own hands.

"Then what is it?"

"It's a clue."

I immediately stood at his absurd words. "This isn't a TV you ass. Do you think you're Sherlock or some shit?"

"I'm not." Yoongi slumped his shoulders, standing up with me as well. He didn't once take his eyes off the painting. "But I am sure of one thing." He taps the picture with a shaking finger. "I know where this is at."