the gardeners son | taekook

*𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖*

kim taehyung, looks out the window his eyes following the shape of a wilting bush; watching the last few leaves fall before brushing away. gone. he sometimes wishes he was a wilting leaf on a neglected bush, waiting to drop and fly away from home.

his father was wealthy, very wealthy. he had inherited this home from his family and now it was the oldest building in the small town they lived in; the outskirts were really their home. he was an incredible business man, doing ... whatever it was that he did. however, being a good father wasn't in his vocabulary.

taehyung had strict bounds tied to him, ones for his fathers sake. he was told to stay inside the gates, never leave the house premises. no friends. it was his fathers way of protection; without any of the hard dad work.
the window of his bedroom was the gate to the outside; he watched the world pass and he fell behind; slowly slipping from reality.

taehyung liked to think his father was being kind and caring but in reality, he was just locking away his biggest burden. he knew this. it hurt, it hurts badly. like a thorn stuck in your skin. expect there's no pretty rose on the other end, just a never ending spike of misery.

there was a light shining in the darkness; his little garden. a hidden off bend to the never ending decaying pit of flowers. "they've really got to hire someone for the job," tae persists. no one listens really.
it was pretty, very, with a large tree that turned pink in spring and bloomed blossom. little flowers of all shapes and colours, lay pleasantly around the grounds, surrounding the masterpiece of the garden. taehyungs swing from childhood. vines from the ground grew up the side and circled the frame of the swing, sometimes little flowers bloomed.
the swing was made by his father, it was the one act that showed he cared, the one thing his father did for him. he adored his garden it was the only place for privacy, no one but him was allowed to be there.

he still had to ask to leave the house, still had to ask to even be in his own garden. it was infuriating for sometime, until taehyung turned limp and gave up his fight.

even as all of this pain and somewhat resentment grew from his father, taehyung understood the orders. it was his mother's wish, for taehyung to be safe. yet his father took it too far; removing his freedom along with the keys.

taehyung knew how much his father loved his mother, he heard the stories from the maids and saw the look in his eyes. loving and soft, a glimmer of pain.

but it felt like his dad was a stranger with the title. a man he lived with because he had too. he hardly knows him and it pains taehyung. he wants to know his family, have connections. instead of it being those two against the world, it was taehyung and the twenty staff to follow behind him.

and they did everything, absolutely anything. it's what they were paid for.

but they were living his life for him.

he was so lonely, so tired. he wanted a change and escape.

-

jeon jungkook woke from a loud scream and bang, his head jolting up from his pillow in a fast, neck cracking, motion.

it was his younger brother and sister, playing around in the kitchen. they dropped a pan. they were six and annoying, running and screaming on a daily basis.

his mother shouted for them to leave; herself in the middle of making breakfast and sending emails out to clients; all demanding beautiful dresses.

"where is your father!" she huffed, loud enough for jungkook to hear.

"probably in the garden!" jungkook shouts down; his voice weird and frog like. he coughed.

his mother and father were constant hard workers, aiming to give their three kids the best chance at life they could get. it saddens jungkook.

she was a seamstress, a talented one with a business in dresses; wedding and formal. while his father gardeners his life away, constantly digging in dirt.

"jungkook! you're gonna be late for school! come eat please," his mother yells, a drawer shutting with a bang as she lets out a loud yelp.

he didn't want to make her wait.

he was well known at school, he was athletic and practically good at everything he did. he knew people liked how he looks too... he chooses to ignore them.
he was kind to everyone, listened to the teachers and was smart in all classes.
he felt prayed on though, with eyes prying into his soul. he was known to have never really dated anyone and some girls - a specific group - all wanted to be his first date and maybe even first girlfriend.

he didn't like girls anyway. not yet, it hadn't hit him... yet. attraction to anyone. he says that. to himself. he just doesn't like them yet.

it was one of those days where girls would shut up for him and giggle after he gave an answer in class. he hated it, uncomfortable. these girls weren't the kindest ones. they mocked others, laughed at the teacher; thought they were better than everyone else. jungkook definitely didn't like them.

he arrived home tired and drained. his body felt tense.

"jungkook? will you have a seat please?" his mothers kind voice calls. lulling him into a false sense of security.

"we're going to be moving!" she says with jazz hands. a guilty grin on her lips. hands now folding together on her lap; fingers playing at a thread on the table cloth.

"for my new job, jungkook," his father adds, going back to sitting quietly.

for 17 years he's lived here, in this house. for 17 years he's grown up here.

although he knew what was coming , this was earth shattering and life ruining.

... but in reality, it could be the best decision his family have ever made.

-
[edited: 10/09/20]