eternity | vk

fifteen

golden sunlight stretched its glowing fingers to each nook and cranny of the disorganized room. a boy sat at the edge of his un-made bed amid a mosaic of tossed blankets and pillows. running his slender fingers through his head of disheveled hair, his eyes wandered to the trail of light spilled in from the open window.

his mind felt burdened with undesirable thoughts, and he yearned to empty his mind.

did he still love taehyung?

love. the word was consisted of such beauty and grace—of such deceit and twisted ways. it was difficult to thrive without it, yet unbearable to live with it.

love. what was love to jungkook? love meant missing someone when they were gone—not because their presence fills up your space, but because it fills your heart. love wasn't accepting someone's flaws just because you love them, it was more like loving them because you can accept their flaws. it was so much more that merely a four-lettered word—it was an emotion; a bond that couldn't be rushed, but could be tested by time. but love was more than just missing someone or acceptance—it was pain and at times, jealousy. it wasn't thrilling or eventful at all times. love was slow, everlasting, often misunderstood, but still far from bland. it wasn't something everyone could get used to, but it was something everyone needed a lot more of in their lives.

and if he knew that much about love, then why couldn't he understand whether or not he was feeling any?

"damn it, tae, look what you're doing to me. . . " jungkook groaned, flopping backwards onto his bedsheets.

the mention of the elder's name burned his tongue, and he emitted a soft sigh. he felt so conflicted and confused, and the ambiguity infuriated him so—

"i'm home!"

a familiar slam of the front door, and a few muffled footsteps later, he watched as the door to his room swung open.
a brunette poked his head around the doorway, hair sightly windswept, a few stray locks framing his chiseled face. he mustered a small childish smile (and oh, it looked so much like a rectangle. . . it looked to be so pure), but it faltered off his cherry lips eventually.

"welcome home," jungkook breathed, stumbling onto his feet messily, "did. . . did you eat yet?"
he mentally cursed himself for stuttering—their relationship had surpassed on-and-off-again and had sunken into a state of. . . almost a hiatus? it was as if the two had mutually withdrawn their emotions for each other and hidden it in some deep part of their souls. but if that was the case, why was he so flustered whenever he came into contact with taehyung? why was he reduced to an awkward, stuttering mess whenever the older's eyes bored into his own—why did he act so. . . so whipped for him whenever they were together? why, damn it, if he was showing so many signs of liking someone, were they drifting further apart?

jungkook gulped, watching as taehyung shook his head, attempting to smooth down a few stubborn cowlicks. his black one-strapped work bag was still slung over one shoulder, one of his hands loosely wrapped around it. he donned a pair of bland white socks, and his striped tie was lopsided and untied messily. his sun-kissed skin was practically glowing in the dim fluorescent lighting of jungkook's bedroom.

mustering a smile not as bright as taehyung's, he slipped out the door, "i'll make something if you're hungry. if not, i'll just boil some water—we're nearly out anyway."

following after the younger wordlessly, taehyung tossed his tie aside, then set his bag down with a dull thud next to the couch.
he watched as jungkook fetched a kettle from the cabinet under the sink, then shot a questioning glance at taehyung.

"so? are you hungry?"

"not really," taehyung answered, seating himself at a chair set at the kitchen counter and resting his chin on the palm of his hand, "thanks anyways."