𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓣⓦⓔⓝⓣⓨⓢⓔⓥⓔⓝ

Jungkook entered the diner, his wet boots echoing loudly in the room. He had brought in the cold winter air with him, making customers shiver and look up with annoyed eyes. He sat down on his usual bar stool, as always, and fidgeted with the sugar packs, waiting for her to come by. He did not know why he had gone there, his feet had taken him to the diner unconsciously as he was roaming the empty streets at night.

When she saw him, she gasped. Dark circles plunged deep under his red and puffy eyes, his hollowed cheeks were colorless just as his dry, cracked lips were. He seemed like he was about to die, seconds away before drawing his last breath. She quickly brought her order to the customer, almost throwing his plate on the table, then practically ran back around the counter to face Jungkook.

“You look like you haven’t eaten in days,” she spoke softly, unsure of what she had to say.

She had not seen him in two months. Before, he would come at least twice a week. His body would be beaten and bruised, yet he would still smile brightly, a boyish gleam in his eyes. Now, however, he seemed like another person. She did not recognize his puppy-like eyes nor his charming smile. She was faced with the ghost of the boy she once knew, a macabre imitation of him. She turned and yelled out his usual order to the cook, too impatient to go bring him a paper order.

“Honey… what happened…” she asked, taking his cold intertwined hands between her own.

When he looked at her, she felt her heart break. She saw a broken boy, a lost innocence, a wandering soul looking for closure. There was no gleam, no warmth in his eyes; only darkness and sadness. She had never seen him like this, and barely knew how to react. They had a relationship that had revolved around her taking care of him physically, but never had they delved into feelings. She did not press him when he did not give an answer. She knew some things could not be explained, or were better off left unsaid. She did not know what could have made this boy so broken, but she knew it must have been hell. He was a strong man.

She poured coffee in an empty cup and put it in front of him, hoping it would comfort him a little bit, as it did before. He curled his fingers around the cup, the hot coffee warming up his hands. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he looked back down inside the cup, staring back at his reflection.

The plate of pancakes he had always adored was placed in front of him. He wanted to smile, he wanted to thank her, but did not have the strength to do so. Even thinking about eating the pancakes made his stomach churn. He was not hungry; not for food, not for anything. He only wanted one thing.

Taehyung had left a month ago, without warning. Jungkook had woken up in an empty, cold bed, the only sign of Taehyung being his dirty clothes on the floor. He had gotten up, worried, looking around the apartment for either him, a note, or anything he could have left behind. He found nothing.

Taehyung had been especially distant the week before he left. He had mumbled to himself a lot, and seemed especially anxious when Jungkook would talk to him or touch him. His behavior had changed in a matter of days. He had watched his lover grow distant and troubled, without any insight as to what had changed inside of his mind. It was not that he had not expected this to happen, yet more that he did not want to believe it would. He had spent those days with Taehyung wearing rose-tinted glasses, not noticing the appearing signs of Taehyung’s distress. He wanted to believe they were okay, that everything was fine, but it seemed like it was far from that.

Jungkook had spent every day looking for him. He had traveled far and wide by foot, lurking around every street corner and alleyway, almost praying he would find him in one of them, killing another one of his unfortunate victims. Every night he had drank and cried himself to sleep, clutching tightly onto one of Taehyung’s shirts that still smelled like him. After three weeks, he had understood he would not be coming back.

He had imagined many, many times what could have possibly happened. The first scenario he thought of was another lover; it would have explained why he was so distant and anxious around him. The second was that he went out for a kill and ended up being the one killed. The third was that he went to visit family outside of town, or maybe even outside the country. The last one was the least believable, but the one he clung the most onto. It was the least painful of the scenarios.

He had almost gotten used to the empty apartment. Jess had left the place not long after that night at the club. She had found a boyfriend, apparently it was true love and they moved in practically immediately together. She often sent updates, saying how happy she was and how well he treated her. Jungkook was truly happy for her, or at least as close to the feeling of happiness he could get. He had not dared to say Taehyung had disappeared, in fear of ruining her mood. He was going to come back. Jungkook was sure of that.