"Jungkook... he's my everything. Always has been, always will be. Even though I am nearly ten years older than him, I don't remember my life before he was in it," Junghyun laughed softly. His voice was soft. His face was soft. He never showed an ounce of hardness. He was pure white energy, "I remember first meeting Jungkook. My father had picked me up after grammar school one afternoon and brought me to the hospital to visit my mother. And there he was, a small pink fluff," Junghyun laughed again. Junghyun always laughed. It was never an obnoxious laugh; it was always quiet and breathy. It was soft. It was comforting, everything about Junghyun was comforting.
"He was sleeping wrapped in a blanket, one of my baby blankets, in mother's arms. I was terrified to touch him let alone hold him. He just looked so fragile, like he could break at the slightest of touch. I didn't hold him that day, or the day after. In fact, I do not think I held him until he was at least a month old. Our parents used to joke with friends that I must be jealous of having attention taken away from me after being an only child for song long," Junghyun shook his head, his eyes staring off into the distance. He eyes filled with memories from long ago, "but it wasn't true. I was just scared of hurting him, because the very moment I walked into that hospital room I knew. I knew I was going to love and protect him no matter what. That was my baby brother. He still is, he will always be my baby brother."
Junghyun laughed again, "though he gets mad when I call him that now, but he's at that age. I remember not wanting to come off as anything but an adult. Though he still lets me pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair. He won't ever admit it but he loves when I baby him. Especially now. Jungkook- he isn't doing so well. He's been sick for a while. The doctors do not know what is wrong with him. They've treated him for everything, given him every type of medicine. Nothing works. We've even tried traditional medicinal herbs, but nothing. We can't afford much; the government sends a check back to my Uncle who is raising him right now as I have him listed as my dependent. But it isn't much. The amount of times I almost quit the Academy, countless. I feel guilty, I should be the one with him. I should be the one comforting him and caring for him. But I know that if I quit, I won't find a job suitable enough to properly care for him. The benefits and pay for becoming a Demonic Military Officer is the only thing keeping me going, knowing in the end it will pay off and hopefully I will have the resources to get Jungkook treated. Plus, if I quit I don't Jungkook would ever forgive me."
Junghyun back up lightly from where he was sitting. The room in which he sat was dork, he had a mere flashlight on and pointed into the air but all one could see was the shadows and outlines of the room. He was searching from something on the ground, his hands aimlessly waved through the air until it caught onto what he was looking for. He moved forward again and continued what he was doing.
His knees were pressed against another pair of knees. He was holding a bandage and, in his lap, appeared to be a sewing kit.
"But from Jungkook has written to me in his letters Uncle is caring for him and that he feels better every day. Though I know even if he was not feeling well, he would never tell me. He never wants to worry me; he's always telling me to focus on my studies and to graduate soon so I can come home." Junghyun faltered a bit, "let's hope we both make it out alive."
Jungkook woke in a cold sweat, his chest heaving but it felt as if no air was coming into his lungs. He had bolted into a sitting position, disoriented and confused. His throat burned with every inhale of the cold night air. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his night shirt clung to his chest. There were tears spilling from his eyes but he had trouble distinguishing the tears from the beads of sweat on his face. His hands were shaking where they sat in his lap.
