⌜ jeon jungkook ⌟
THERE'S A KNOCK AT THE DOOR. a loud knock—a really loud knock.
namjoon looks up from the couch where we're watching titanic for the billionth time and at the door, then he rolls his eyes looking so inconvenienced as he pushes himself up and slugs towards the front door.
"it's probably jimin with the food, joon," i say, eyes still watching the screen as i scoop handfuls of dry ass popcorn into my mouth. (namjoon thinks that butter is too unhealthy, of course he does.)
namjoon shakes his head as he unlatches one of the door locks. "jimin comes in the back door, and he has keys."
he opens the door and i turn my head around, and like he says—it is not jimin.
it's a boy, a very upset boy, maybe a few years older than me. i see his shimmering black hair, and his frame shaking with anger, but i don't see his face because namjoon is leaning on the door and masking him away.
"um, hi? who are you?" namjoon asks, and pushes himself off the door. i move my head to see better, and the boy is... ethereal. even with his ultra puffy and bloodshot eyes, he's gorgeous. and not in a human way either, it's different. he's really different.
"you!" the boy screams, and clenches a hand against the door. and then i am no longer concerned about how gorgeous is he but hell, that scream must've been at least 100 decibels.
i stand up.
"who the fuck are you?" namjoon yells back, (like 80 decibels) and gets his face in the other boy's.
not a good idea—as i watch namjoon fly back and right into the wall. which—how the fuck did that happen?
"what a punch! calm down, we'll figure this out!" i say and walk over to the boy in the doorway. he's sobbing, he's upset and he's furious. i try to make him back up and out of the house because we don't need a psycho in here, but he shoves my shoulder with his, crying.
"i didn't punch him," the boy says and sniffles. he snorts up snot and pushes me aside, walking into joon's living room and towards the wall my best friend skyrocketed into like in action movies.
i don't do anything.
i don't know why.
"this is your fucking fault, moon boy," the boy says and spits on namjoon. i hurry over and behind them, but i don't try to intervene. it's not going to be any use.
"moon boy?" i ask, but i'm soon silenced by the boy who's a bit taller than me—but 90 times better looking.
"She's angry, namjoon. She took him from me—and it's your fucking fault! because he was so dumb for you, because he was so fucking dumb and showed you what he could do and now She's trapped him and now i'm never, ever getting him back."
"who? who's She? who are you talking about!" namjoon yells, he's more upset than i've seen in a long time—and that makes me upset. really, really upset. i clench my teeth, about to punch the trespassing motherfucker but then he turns away from me and starts pacing as if he knew what i was going to do.
i'm dumbfounded watching him.
he has fat tears dripping down his chin and he's delusional—but he's so pretty and i can't stop staring. "She's hurting him, namjoon. you don't like looking at the moon anymore, do you? you cry when you look up there, because inside your soul you know. you know he's there—and you miss him."
namjoon is silent, but he's breathing scarcely and i quietly sit back down and watch the strange encounter. i don't worry anymore, i don't know why. i should throw this boy out, but i'm not worried.
"She trapped my best friend in the moon, moon boy. She put him in there to die! the Mother, my Mother took the love of my life away from me. She took my baby, my best friend away from me! because of you! because yoongi had fallen for you, because he thinks you're like us. but you're not, you're just some dumb fucking infatuation of his! you aren't special! and now, i'll never get to see him again. we will never see him again."
namjoon is pale, and now i worry. not about the boy—about namjoon.
"h-he's not coming back?"
"no, moon child, he's not."
"are you seokjin?"
"i'm yoongi's. and he's mine—but ever since you showed him what you could do to the sky he was awestruck. ever since you danced with him and took him to the night, he turned stupid. absolutely stupid, and all i know anymore is that he's gone, and you need to fix what you broke."
namjoon blinks.
he's speaking in tongues, the boy—seokjin—is speaking in tongues and he's glittering and he's so beautiful i can't stop staring and i don't know what's going on but i'm mystified. so. damn. mystified.
he's surreal. he's glowing too, he's actually 100% glowing and there's a halo of light around his hair and it's so gorgeous and he has these shimmery lit-up freckles on his cheeks, he's beautiful.
"i need you to fix it, moon child. i need you to overpower the All-Mother and i need you to save yoongi."
"seokjin, i can't do this. i only found out about these... powers a few weeks ago when he showed me. i can't go there."
"they aren't powers, namjoon. they're apart of you, it isn't power. it's not magic. it's life, you have life in you. everyone does—but only some people tap into it, and She doesn't want Her reign to dwindle when everyone can find that life in them. the All-Mother is selfish, She wants all the rule to herself."
i don't even hear myself when i say, "who's the All-Mother?" it came from my stomach, i didn't think of it on my own. it came from the pit of my soul, it wasn't me. who was it?
seokjin spins to me and looks at me with those bright colors, those glimmering eyes. "She is who made the universe."
"a girl made the universe?" i ask, mainly because i want to see his reaction. because i want to lighten this whole... whatever the fuck is happening. because only now that he seems more human that i'm confused and what the fuck are they saying about powers?
"yes," seokjin says and blinks a few times. "and i am Her son."
