cold feet [1]

nine

Jungkook's point of view

I couldn't help but dwell on the fact that Taehyung had wiped my memory. Did he really not trust me? Did he really believe I would tell someone what he had told me?

We both sat in silence, Taehyung picking at the food and nibbling on the small pieces before placing them back in the container. He could tell I was pissed at him for doing it, so he continued, occasionally looking up and smirking playfully.

"Will you just eat it already! Or I'll shove it down your throat." Taehyung looked up, eyeing me curiously, as if saying 'would you really?'. He was provoking me. Before he could continue, I lunged forward, wrenching the container from his hands and lifting up a large amount of it. Taehyung's eyes were wide as I pushed it forward, filling his mouth. I pulled away, feeling satisfied as the older sat with cheeks bulging, his eyes as round as saucers. "I told you."

It took him awhile to chew the mouthful, swallowing after a minute or two.

"That hurt!" He complained, rubbing his throat. I shrugged, moving my hand forward to pick up the chopsticks again. He shook his head, going to place his hand on mine, but pulling back as he remembered what would happened.

"Why are you wearing those gloves?" I asked, after repeating the question in my head. He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through his hair.

"Cause I can," he responded grumpily, picking up the food and beginning to eat larger mouthfuls.

"That's not an answer." Taehyung looked up.

"It is an answer, just not one you're willing to take." I groaned, my hypocrisy was so idiotic.

"Why were you at Yoongi's party?" The older swallowed, shrugging off the question.

"I don't know. I got bored, saw you leaving, wanted to know where you were going."

"That is honestly creepy." He gave me an innocent, yet depressing glance.

"I was lonely. You know how it feels? Living here, no one ever noticing me. No one ever bothering to care when I can barely lift my own arms, when I can barely open my eyes. I count each day, the amount of people who walk past me. On average it's about 20. And none of them even shoot me a glance. I enjoy your company Jungkook. It may not seem so at times. But I have my own problems, and sometimes those problems, affect me..." I nodded slowly. Was he talking about his fluctuating moods thing?

"V ... I'm sorry if this sounds invasive and creepy. But... is there something inside you that controls your mood?" Taehyung grew still, stiffening slightly. I was worried his dangerous side would show. He stayed frozen for thirty seconds, seeming to be arguing with himself. Then he looked up, his eyes still clear.

"Yes Kook, I have psychotic issues, if that's what you're asking. Well, psychotic is the easiest way I can explain it to you." I nodded slightly, happy to have that cleared up. "Let's just say it makes things quite difficult." Again, my reply was a nod. It seemed to be the only thing I could do.

"Is it weird? Being unable to control if your personality and mood changes?"

"I ... can control it, sometimes. It really depends on the situation." He looked down for a second, muttering under his breath. He did that alot, talking to himself.

"Do they talk back to you?" I continued to ask, offering a bottle of water to accompany his meal. He took it hesitantly, eyes darting up to the sky in a turmoil of thoughts. "You don't have to answer, you just... fascinate me."

"I'm not a zoo," Taehyung replied passively, taking a sip from the cold fresh water. I watched his shoulders relax and his eyes flutter closed in silent relief. "I just ... yes they do. I don't want to explain it, it's too complicated." I nodded in understanding, settling back and following his gaze to the overcast sky above.

"What do you do when it rains?"

"How do you get anything down with all these questions floating in your brain?" I laughed at the bitten back retort, amused by his slight frustration.

"Everything I do comes from my curiosity. I want to learn everything, try everything. You are so different from anyone and anything I have ever met. You're irresistible in that I just want to know everything."

"I can't tell you everything," Taehyung gritted out with a frustration that didn't reflect his usual tone. I knew he had flipped when I looked over into his sharpened eyes pulled into a glower.

"Taehyung?"

"Go home, Jungkook." He ordered, throwing the empty container at me. I managed to catch it, staring into the swirling mystery that held me captivated. I wanted to drown in the endless confusion that his presence brought. If he'd let me...

"Please, let me speak with nice you..." I whispered, it was awkward asking someone for permission to speak to them. Maybe the language I used was inappropriate, but how could I know with the walls he was building before my eyes. It was all I could think to say to rationalise the concept.

"No. You've spoken enough. You ask too many questions and it's pissing me off!"

Taehyung's point of view

Hey! Leave him alone!
He asks too many questions.
So? He's young and curious. Of course he's going to ask questions!
Well, he needs to stop.
Let me speak to him!
No.

I turned to see Jungkook getting up, pulling his hoodie over his head with a frown etched into his pretty lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow then..." He murmured, still searching my face for any sign of the other me. He seemed hurt having me tell him to leave, his expression was almost pitiful.

"Well, get out of here!" I yelled, giving him a shove for encouragement; the pain nothing in the moment. He stumbled slightly, catching himself before he face planted. In one swift movement, he snatched up my shoes. The only pair of shoes I owned that were falling apart. "Hey! Give those back!" Jungkook smiled, dangling them just out of my reach as I struggled to stand.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he repeated mischievously, then sprinted off in the direction of his home. My shoes still imprisoned in his firm grip.

That bastard.
Told you to let me speak to him. Now we can't go to the river.
We can go barefoot.
What? No! Last time you did that we got hypothermia.
Eh, hypo- whatever, doesn't bother me.
It does me!
Where the same bloody person!
To hell we aren't!
Stop denying it. We were born on the same day, same year, same time, same mother, same father. How are we not the same person?
Because you died, remember?
Oh yeah, that really should've been you. That way we wouldn't be stuck together.
What's that supposed to mean?!
Never mind, you're too young to know.
WE'RE THE SAME AGE!

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