askuroppa

Butterfly

There is nothing special on that day, that night. It's just a casual chill evening where you stand in front of a small funfair the town next to yours opens every month on this date, and somehow bringing the number to a next level higher than ordinary.

Not as special as tomorrow would be, however.

It's all sad and disappointing that, supposedly more special than a friend, the person who made you leave the house instead of sprawling on the bed like a soaring hawk chose to ruin your night right a few hours before, leaving you at this position. But you've decided that it's best not to dwell – at least not until the 26th hour.

It's that you just can't get your feet to enter therefore joins the people laughing their souls out of their bodies a couple of feet before you. They look happy, and that's very intimidating at the moment. Happiness doesn't come as quick as a smile exists: It acquires sincerity and energy; and you have none of the latter after the aimless/endless wander around the place, pacing indecisively.

Without warn, someone nudges you by your sleeve. And you turn to look.

'Es–queue–se me~' A young man who looks quite around your age stands there, slyly scooting to your side. The corner of his lips droop as he playfully pouts, mimicking your involuntary action from earlier he seemed to notice. 'Why?' And then he points at you.

'Someone asked me out but changed their mind too long ago.' You roll your eyes in annoyance, recalling the quick message. 'Son of a bitch.'

The young man tut–tuts, 'No, no, no.' He deliberately shakes his head. 'No "bitch".'

*

'Are you alone' – he asks but then sharply pause in his sentence before nodding – 'my name is Jungkook,' he cocks an eyebrow in your direction, his head tilting, 'but you can call me your darling.' A cheeky grin creeps its way on that face of his.

Now Jungkook sure is cute for a man and he doesn't look suspicious and boy with that smile and squinty eyes like that L in that manga version of Death Note—but this is your first time encountering him and he's not all familiar.

What if he's using his face, as his psycho self's latest female obsession gets on his nerve again and demands him to go there to lure you to the darkest alley you ever lurk in (and will probably be the last thing you see) before he stabs you with a knife or a screwdriver or—

. . . an umbrella?

'I watch TV,' he supposes, proudly shrugging, 'tonight will rain.'

And then you lose it. 'What if it doesn't?'

Are you trying to reason yourself before the next seven minutes you make me follow you to somewhere where no one else is there and then hit me hard with that stupid stick and drag me into your wagon then take me home to lay me on a surgery bed and cut me to pieces then soon enough jar my organs?

(Wow, talking about psychopaths . . .)

A psychopath with an . . . umbrella . . . doesn't sound as abnormal, but the idea doesn't seem less harmful. There is a lot versions of psychopaths and weird people, isn't there?

'Then I play with this umbrella!' The ways he grins and swirls around with the umbrella blooming in his hand are unacceptable to you; everyone with children is watching; but then again, there are people to knock him out if he dares mention that alley.

Right.

'You want to come?' He gasps for breath, now finding his way to enter the place. 'Two tickets, one for me,' he casually claims, 'one for you.' He's pointing again, and you lift your hands to look at the crumpled piece of coupons you got in advance of tomorrow's event.

Bring it on, Jungkook.

In a whispery voice, you call out to the people who suddenly are too busy for you tonight, 'Well fuck all of you, too, then.'

Jungkook swiftly snatches the tickets from your hand, seeing that you already pace forwards in his direction. It appears to be rude to you and God damn it, doesn't this guy have any manners? but he waits for you (who shoulder–slumps) to join him at the entrance instead of letting the person in–charge taping his wrist just yet.

*

Well the night doesn't result in as horrible as you thought it would be. With Jungkook spilling the soapy mix of water on his zipless hoody once in a whilst, it's kind of fun to laugh at. He doesn't seem to mind – got another spare t–shirt underneath to make up for it, anyhow.

He has made you wear his coat lest it actually rains out of the blue.

It's getting colder anyway, and the extensive clothe is warm and like this—it's nice to pad around somewhere people have nothing to be concerned of and openly burst into laughter.

'Hey look!' screeches Jungkook. 'Bubble!' He inhales deeply and, with puffy cheeks, stands facing your direction to blow one in the size of tennis ball. However, before it gets to touch and splash over your cheek, something tiny and wet trickles thus beats it first. 'Oh no,' he hisses in panic, 'rain! RUN!'

He tugs at your wrist then hand, pulling you to the nearest shade he can find that turns to be the merry–go–round's. His useless umbrella, hanging by his forearm for hours, finally blossoms for you. It's translucent, and it's pretty under these lights where he stands by.

Jungkook takes a step to get a shield under it first before he skims around to look for a better place he can take you to. His eyes widen at a wide, roofed resting corner the place has. Not even pointing this time, he holds out the umbrella to you, but then lifts it higher in his possession. He flashes a genuine smile that you finally have the guts to trust and sigh at despite the reckless amusement he exhibited earlier. 'Let's go.'

'Where to?'

'Drink there.' He takes a glance at your next destination, then blinks at you and widens his eyes again. 'But where ever you want to,' he assures. 'Home?'

You heart sink at the word.

Home.

But you're happy and having fun and pretty sure any of your life events before isn't as special as its eve today and ah man one of you will have to leave first at some point later . . .