考拉|koala°taekook

ѷ

Taehyung shuffled uneasily when he heard the low rumble. He knew he should probably go back inside before it started to rain, but couldn't bring himself to move from his laxative position.

He was sitting out on the roof, you see.

Sometimes, when the walls around him felt suffocating, or he just wanted to clear his thoughts, Taehyung would crawl over his desk, open the sliding pane and climb out (most commonly with a blanket) to the tiny portion of the slanting roof right outside his bedroom window.

The sight he beheld was nothing new; same street marked 32, same house from across it, one of it's upper bedroom lights glimmering, same cricket sounds from the dark bushes...
The only aspect of interest was that, instead of the stars that dotted the dark hued sky, twinkling and shimmering against the light refreshing breeze, today, there was a heavy blanket of storm clouds approaching from the distant horizon, accompanied by sudden flashes of lightning and-

There it is again, Taehyung grimaced, as he heard another low rumble, similar to that of gigantic wardrobes tumbling down a set of stairs. There was no breeze, the air contributing to stand perfectly still and humid around him.

He let out a disappointed sigh, attempts at calming down vanishing, blown away on the nonexistent wind. He wearily stood up, holding the wall for support, and climbed back inside, pulling the blanket behind him.

As a second resort, he left the pane open, hoping the soon-to-come rain would make some of the stuffiness go away.

Yes, he knew perfectly well that it was the middle of December, and hence, really cold, but could you really blame him? The humidity, in addition with the warm attire he was wearing (a sweater both inside and outside his pyjama shirt) really heated him up. So, he left the window wide open.

Plopping down on his bed, his hand searched for the thin frame of his phone. His fingers curling around the object, he picked it up, then hesitated.

He knew he had been spending a lot of time on the damn thing, in addition to the gardening, instead of with Jungkook, but he was aware of his deeper intention perfectly clearly. There was this weird part inside him, a part he assumed was closer to his other self, that loved it when the younger gave him more attention, and fussed over him more. Maybe it was a side effect of not having a mother, maybe because of the other him, or maybe, it really was himself, being himself.

He figured that if he spent his days a little distantly, Jungkook would want to close that gap, and so far? So good.

The younger had been acting kind of weird for some while, and it enraged Taehyung that he couldn't make heads nor tails of his behaviour. An example of which were the countless times Taehyung had caught him staring at various of his body parts (thinking about it turned his ears red) or just acquiring this glazed look in his irises at random times.

Also, the latter didn't look Taehyung in the eye anymore, always looking a fraction of an inch in another direction. That felt weird.

He fell back on his bed, his head hitting the soft surface of the pillow and tossed the phone aside, with it landing somewhere above his head. Staring up at the ceiling, he felt his eyes drooping slightly. Sleep overcame him like a drug, pulling him under in an astonishing matter of seconds.

Pretty soon, his consciousness faded away into nothingness.

*****

Sweat dripped down his chin, his hair a bedraggled mess. Shivers racked the length of his body, slowly advancing towards pronounced quakes of terror. Instead of beating erratically, his heart thumped with a faint malfunction, the sound irregular and uncoordinated.

It wasn't fear or shock that had woken him up. No, It had been a factor far more complicated than that. It had been....

Taehyung didn't know how to explain it.

Clawing at his chest in discomfort, Taehyung coughed, tasting the sick, metallic taste of blood at the back of his throat. He half-fell from his bed and stumbled towards the bathroom.

Reaching the toilet, he arrived just in time, for the bowl to receive the sudden gush of vomit emanating from the confines of his stomach.

Shuddering after it was over, (and avoiding looking at his reflection) Taehyung cleaned up and stepped out, only to lean against the wall as the world tilted dangerously around him.

Wincing, and walking along the wall, he somehow reached his bed and collapsed on it.

The last thing he saw was his bedside clock showing 2:27am before he passed out, from sheer exhaustion and emotional drain...

~~~

The room was dark around him, the strikingly bright flashes of lightning the only source of vision.

That's when it hit him. It was night. He hadn't been properly alive at night before.

A malevolent smirk creeped up onto his features as he realized the implementations of this fact. No one would suspect. No one would know. In fact, the only person other than himself was....

"Jungkook." The name rolled around his lips in a delicious manner, almost as if quivering in anticipation for what he was going to do next.

To his immense satisfaction, he realized that the naive boy had even let the door remain unlocked. Pushing it open, he walked down the stairs, his bare feet even colder than the tiles below them.

His gaze x-rayed the environment around him, coming to rest on a relatively sharp envelope opener. And besides, the blunter the better, right? It didn't have to be a knife.

Gripping it in right hand, he advanced towards the younger boy's bedroom, creaking the door open.

Another sneer split his features as he beheld the latter passed out under his duvet, breathing slightly.

He looked so vulnerable, so innocent, that Taeyang felt a pang of regret of it. But, he thought, business is business. What you have to do, must be done. And he had been waiting for a long time to achieve this moment as well.

Raising his makeshift knife, he slowly advanced towards the bed and thence, towards Jungkook.

A/N: CLIFFHANGER

huehueheue

I like seeing u guys suffer

Jk, ily.

Maybe I have dual personality disorder

That would be cool