omega (✔️)

[ending 1: part 3]

[ending 1: part 3]

[2 years later]

[Jungkook]

With a phone in between my shoulder and my ear, I held a large basket of laundry which I was barely able to steadily carry to the laundry room, "Yeah, Yoongi, I don't know what to do about it, okay? We'll just meet up at the park and eat pretzels and cake or something,"

"You're seriously not gonna throw a big ass party? You didn't even do anything for them last year,"

I began putting large clumps of dirty clothes into the washing machine, "They were fucking 1, Yoongi, it's not like they would remember anything. Just tell everyone to meet up at the park, the kid's will love it,"

"But still— AHH FUCK!"

I paused in my tracks from his loud scream that rang in my ears, "Yoongi? You okay?"

"Yeah, lemme call you back, I just dropped my baby,"

Those annoying pulsating noises sounded, meaning he hung up on me. I stood frozen.

Did he really drop hope?

I shrugged it off and pushed my phone into my back pocket, knowing that Yoongi treasures that girl with everything so he's probably going to give her thousands of kisses until her tears have dried. I threw the rest of the clothes into the washing machine and fluently pressed all of the buttons necessary to start the wash.
 
I stretched my back and my arms, the weight of four people's laundry taking a toll on me. I sighed as the stretch ushered stimulating rushes of satisfaction throughout my whole body. I took in the nice, empty silence that bounced off of the walls and instantly whipped my head towards upstairs. I began running towards the silence, rushing upstairs and towards the playroom where I was sure they were all at. I swung open the colorful door which was filled with abstract paintings painted by my little artists to see all three of my children playing in their respective corners of the room.

I sighed in relief, silence seeming to be an enemy of this household since it was never present. Ever.

Taeyang looked up from the intricate picture he was drawing that seemed to look like an array of small, blue blobs that soon formed hundreds and hundreds on that rectangular, white piece of paper, "Daddy?"

Once he called me, the other two children looked up at me with their brown eyes. Although they were fraternal triplets, their chocolate hair and honey eyes, it was as if they were all chipped off pieces from Jimin's entity. They all had the same striking features with slight differences, proving the fact that they were all created in the same womb. Taeyang and Haneul had little differences and were the ones who resembled me the most, both having my mouth, my jaw, and my alpha blood while Byeol had Jimin's softer, more plump ones. Her lips were full and forever peachy, her smile always causing her whole face to light up.

"What are you guys doing?" I smiled down at them, all of them rushing towards me with their crafts and creative artistic visions.

"I'M DRAWING!" Screeched my second born son, Taeyang, as he held up a the picture of intricate arrays of blue dots. He had always been the outgoing triplet and the social butterfly of the three, always screaming and talking a bit too loudly, but that was what made him our Taeyang. Our sun. He always reminded me a lot of another bright presence from a few years ago. A presence that never failed to make me smile. 

I chuckled under my breath while rubbing the top of his head with my calloused hand, "Inside voice, Yangie,"

His mouth made an 'O' in realization and he nodded frantically, knowing his wrongdoings quickly. I turned to the eldest who was standing in the middle of the three, Haneul, who had another, less detailed drawing of a stick family who were all holding hands with crooked smiles on their faces from the uncoordinated motor skills that Haneul lacked as a two year old. There were four stick people, three small ones and one slightly larger one, which I was assuming was me, "I-I drew our family,"