cold feet [1]

twenty

taehyung's point of view

Closing on midnight, Jimin and I walked in silence towards the large house that belonged to a boy that brought infamy to my conflicted mind. The house lit by one bright white light above the door frame, it amazed me every time how grand it was.

"Jimin are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked hesitantly, being first to break the silence. I couldn't help getting caught up in my head, worrying about whether Jungkook even wanted me, or whether Jimin had just gotten desperate. What if Jungkook didn't want to see me? What if I only made him worse?

Just shut up. It's too late to turn and run. Just talk with him and get out of here.
Fine. But you have to promise you'll leave me alone.
Only if you promise to keep those damned gloves on.

Jimin unlocked the door and stepped aside for me to enter, so I walked through into the dark entrance room, slipping off the large boots Jungkook had bought me - the ones that had caused a significant dilemma in our friendship. "Where is he?" Jimin pointed down the hall but made no effort to head that way.

"Sorry, I'm not coming with you. He's already yelled at me twice and threatened to throw something at me if I came back." I swallowed nervously upon hearing how aggravated he was. But I tried to push the fear away as I walked towards the room Jimin had directed me to.

Apart from a bed and a desk there was nothing in the room. Literally nothing. His desk was neatly organised, a mini TV looking thing sitting in the centre surrounded by books and papers. The bed had plain grey sheets, no fancy pattern or anything. It was made as if no one had ever touched it. It took me awhile to finally spot the boy because he blended in with the shadows. But eventually I managed to catch a glimpse of his hair in the moonlight, shining its signature purple.

"Jungkook." I whispered softly, beginning to approach him at a slow pace, not wanting to startle him. He didn't lift his head, keeping his eyes fixed on a picture frame that was grasped firmly in his hands, looking like it would break from the pressure. The younger's eyes were covered by his fringe no longer styled like it was during the day. His mouth was clenched shut and he kept his breathing quiet even when I took a seat beside him. Though I did see his muscles relax and his body become less rigid, fingers fading from white as he loosened his grip. "Is it ok if we talk?" I asked, trying my best to keep him calm. I didn't feel like having him flip out on me right now.

For a reply to my question he gave a shrug, finally lifting his gaze from the picture that I couldn't make out in the dark. When I stared into his eyes they were bloodshot and teary and his face clearly wet from tears. "Jimin's worried sick for you, he doesn't know what to do." I explained, playing with the tip of my gloves in contemplation. Should I use it?

"He shouldn't be worried." Jungkook finally replied, his voice hoarse and harsh.

"Well he is, and I believe he has every right to be. Jungkook he said you've been crying non-stop since he got home and he said that was three hours ago." he lowered his gaze back to the picture, eyes squeezing shut as another set of tears fell.

"I'm fine, really." was all he gave as a reply but the tremble in his words and the choked up syllables made it a very unconvincing statement.

"Jungkook, please, what happened to your nephew?" At the mention of the person all this fuss was over, he began to break down heavier. Using the picture to cover his face he pulled away from our closeness before releasing his first audible sob. Without thinking, I placed my hand on his cheek and brought his face up to my level. A wave of pain rushed through my whole body as I did so, but right now it didn't matter. Brushing my fingers along his eyelashes, I wiped away the tears that were clouding his vision. He looked down at the touch then back up at my face. I knew I wasnt hiding my own pain well, the sharp burn that radiated through my finger tips feeling like a direct flame was engulfing my hand. I tried to smile, but the pain was starting to become unbearable.

"Stop it." He cried, seeing my face twist up and tears prick at my eyes. Instead of pulling away, I grazed my hand down to the side of his neck, staring unwavering into his eyes. But white dots were starting to appear in front of my own. A ringing overtaking the white noise of the room, that seemed to grow louder with every passing second.

"I'm not letting go of you until you tell me why are you so upset. What happened to your nephew?" My eyelids began to droop, my whole body sweating and the sound pulling me from the bedroom and into a void of pain. I felt Jungkook desperately trying to claw my hand off, but I kept my grip tight on his neck, probably causing him his own level of discomfort.

Yah! Stop it! You're going to kill yourself.
Not possible.
He's not going to tell you!
He will.

I forced my eyes to stay open, fixing my gaze so I stared into his. Jungkook looked back in despair then down at my arm that I could feel was beginning to bleed from the various blisters that had formed. But no matter how much he tried to remove my touch I didn't budge.

"Fine! I'll tell you! Just stop!" He yelled, giving one last shove on me as I finally loosened my grip. Whether it was out of acceptance or weakness, either worked. I fell back onto the ground my whole body shaking as I stared up at the ceiling. Jungkook's face appeared above mine. Expression full of worry. "Taehyung?" He called, but his voice was so distant and quiet. "Taehyung!"

"I'm sorry" I managed to hoarsely whisper before a blanket of nothing overtook me.

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