Two Faced //Jungkook ff (18+)

~ 4 ~

I'm a culprit. A decrepit, deceiving, malicious culprit. I have done things I would have to pay for for the rest of my life. I have felt the knife in the flesh for so long, the feel of anything else seems lighter. I have seen the blood leaving a body more than I have seen my own face.

But saying all of those sins can be forgiven in my coming lives makes me an even bigger culprit. So, yes, I'm a culprit. A lying, torturing, regretting culprit.

~~ + ~~

You stretched on your comfortable bed and extended your​ hand out of the mountains of blankets that covered you. You felt for your phone vibrating on your nightstand. Picking it up, you flung the covers aside and slipped into your house shoes. Running downstairs, you nearly broke the door handle with the force you applied to open it and fled to the mailbox.

Yes, this was the 21st century and nobody actually sent letters but the person who wrote to you everyday since your suspension seemed to be oblivious to this. You quietly opened the mailbox, and as expected found the notes of the day and a perfumed letter sent in a pretty pink envelope.

You took them upstairs and sat on the study table, ready to go through the photocopies of everything that had been taught in school that day. You sat there for around two hours, studying, memorizing, cursing at the amount of work.

Finally, you were done and as you cuddled up in the warmth of the blankets, opening the letter, the soft smile that glowed on your face was unmistakable. You had a tendency of frowning often and frowning deeper at the people who smiled often. But these letters, and the person who sent these letters, tended to break all of your usual demeanor and turned you into the adorable fluffball you were described to be in those papers of poetry that were sent to you.

Reading them made all your frustrations wash away, replaced by the comforting calm that was so rarely gifted to you. Finishing it, you put it aside with all the other perfumed letters and layed back on your bed, tilting your head to the window, enjoying the sunset. You thought about how grateful you were to that person and then about how that person made you feel the emotion of gratefulness.

Honestly, if you ever met him/her in real, for the first time in your life, you would say "thank you" and you would say it as much as that person wanted.
You closed your eyes and let the air from the air conditioner cool your face. You expected to dream of beautiful sceneries and rose letters but...

"YOU KILLED HER!!!"
Her scream pierced the walls of your​shared bedroom and penetrated your heart. "I didn't mean to," you cried. Alas, all of it was to go in vain because she was always going to hate you and your life wasn't ever going to get better anyway.
"Please sis, you're too harsh on her, she is just a child." Your brother had always been there for you, at least he was, until he was influenced by her too.
"TOO HARSH! SHE KILLED OUR MOTHER, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" There was no calming her down and so, before you knew it, you found a blade sticking out of your abdomen and then you blacked out.

"Have you seen the way she walks?" The usual bitching of those popular girls floated to your ears and you rolled your eyes as the sound of your locker slamming momentarily freaked them out. This should have brought satisfaction but you were too engrossed in the chit you had found in your locker, too captured by confusion to feel anything​ else.

It had been two weeks since you came back to school and from the first day onwards, you started finding these chits in your locker. Despite your efforts to ignore the person sending you these, they ended up being there everyday and you were slowly going from annoyed to curious. This time though, they hadn't just come wrapped in a lovely ribbon. Tied along with them, held together by the piece of fabric was a beautiful, blooming, red rose.

"You like it?" A deep voice asked, startling you. Looking up, you found a handsome youngster, with bright orange hair, gracing you with the famous box smile you kept hearing about. You frowned at him as he read out exactly what was written in the chit.

He took the rose from your crushing grasp and tenderly starightened the petals. "The only problem in that paper, and the papers before, was that the person who wrote them never signed with his name." Saying so, he gently touched the rose to your cheeks and then sat down on one knee, answering the question that had troubled you for so long.

"From the person who loves you," he said, and you were mildly disappointed that he was just going to say the same thing that was written. But that was not the case. Instead of repeating the letter 'V' that was always written in the end, he said, "Kim Taehyung."
With a horribly realisation you found that this was the very man who had written you all those chits. But the horror lasted for less than a second as you accepted the rose and smiled at him.

Then, you stepped past him and threw the chits and the rose in the waste bin before stepping out into the daylight, to enjoy the weekend.