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Chapter 6: And so it Begins

You make me begiiiiiiin.❤

JK: Bitch stop butchering my song before I ennnnd you!

B-but... Begin?¿

JK: -.-

JIMIN

He's wary and dubious, stepping out of the car and studying the house before his eyes. You would never guess that he's still a scared, little boy under that exterior he's created for himself: stern and unforgiving. However, I'm no stranger to this look - I'd seen it plenty of times whenever I was too busy to spend time with him or when I broke a promise. But this time, I'm not sure bribing him with ice cream and pinching his cheeks would be quite as effective as it used to be. He's a grown man, idiot! He doesn't need ice cream and that patronising gesture to make up for the lost time.

For once, I agree with the inner voice.

"Shall we?" I ask, watching him stare at the view with a blank expression. His eyes fall to the garden of roses in front, the apple tree in its time of blossom and to the small pots of nigellas I've not had the time to plant. With a small nod, he dangles his worn-out backpack on his shoulder and follows me to the door, and inside.

The sweet scent of Mi-ran's lily room mist hits me as soon as we step in, both of us removing our shoes before we walk through the hall and into the living room. Jungkook looks around, passing by the cabinet which holds the trophies I've won throughout the years - the same ones I prayed he would one day show up to see. He pauses in front of a picture frame, eyes fixed, arms limp by his sides. By now, I'd have expected him to say something, ask questions he's been waiting to ask for all these years as I have, but nothing. Not a peep comes out of him.

"That's, uh, her name's Mi-ran," I break the silence and step towards him, unable to handle the awkward silence a second longer. I stand next to him, staring at the picture of Mi-ran and me, through the glass, cuddled up next to a fire with her head resting against my chest. That was our first weekend away together - a camping trip she had begged me to go on. I find myself smiling at the memory, oblivious to Jungkook walking away until he speaks.

"I should go," He says, storming towards the door. I reach out and scrunch the back of his coat in my fist, yelling "Jungkook!" and try to pull him back, but apparently, he's heavier than he looks. He looks over his shoulder and glares at the hand clutched to his back before yanking it away, which in all honesty made me jump back a step.

"You just got here. Where are you going?" I say, cautious with my words before I set off his trigger again.

"I don't wanna be a burden to your perfect life," He scoffs, "Don't think your wife's gonna like a homeless stranger in her house. Goodbye." He says, his voice verging on a yell, but not quite as harsh.

Before he can step away, I grab his wrist and drag him towards the couch. I push him down, ignoring his protests and sit in front of him, arms and legs crossed. His shoulders drop as he rolls his eyes and stokes a spot on his forehead before spreading his legs wide and leaning forward to return my vehement gaze.

"So what?" He throws his arms in the air, breaking us out of the staring contest. "You're just gonna stare at me? I don't wanna be here, Jimin."

"How about we talk it out?" I offer but the way he leans back and crosses his arms as if to say 'I won't listen to anything' irks me in many ways I can count. And momentarily, I lose it, tossing my patience to the side and slam my hands against my thighs, which gains his attention. "You're acting like a brat! Nothing's gonna work out if you can't sit down and talk like an adult."