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Jungkook loved wingback armchairs. He didn't know what it was about them, but he always got a warm feeling whenever he was in one. This love had most likely started back when he was just a kid, in his and his mom's small apartment in Busan. They didn't have much, just the bare minimum in a two room apartment. His mom worked her hardest and they got what they needed to survive, but beyond that, it was pretty rare to have anything of luxury or activity. One of the things that they did have was an old wingback armchair. He had no idea where they got the thing from, perhaps from the side of the road or a Goodwill, they went to quite a few of those. As said, it was an old thing, it's yellow arms were stained and worn down, the once white padding turning up from underneath ripped areas in the cloth. One of the wooden legs fell off every now and then and the others were pretty scratched up. Despite all of its flaws, it was where Jungkook spent most of his time at home. When he thought of his happy place, that yellow chair was right there by the window, looking out on the town. Just like his and his mom's.
Jungkook leaned back in the chair, yes, wingback armchair, he was sitting in, the sun peering through his window warming him up. Jihyo had brought him that chair. When he had first gotten to the hospital, he had lost all hope. His eyes were gone, his legs weren't working, his head was pounding, and he had no idea where he was. He was stuck in a bed, he knew no one, and all he could feel was immense pain. There was no comfort and he was stuck in a constant state of agony and distrust. After all he had been through, after all he had seen and heard, how was he supposed to trust people in white coats? How was he supposed to trust other people? Other mutants? With that in mind, he didn't talk for any reason to anyone for a long time.
He got his first few volunteers in that time. Each one had a different reaction to his selective silence. Some didn't seem to care and others just got angrier, they were all spread out on different ends of the spectrum. Jihyo noticed how they came and went. She noticed how nothing seemed to change, no matter the visitor, doctor, or nurse. She was the only one who ever cared or noticed anything about him. She was the first person he ever trusted. She was the reason he started speaking again. She was the sister he never had, and he'd be grateful for her for the rest of his life.
The chair had come in to play in the very beginning of those days. It had been in storage, down in the basement most likely. He had told her about the yellow chair and during his therapy, she had it brought up to his room. It wasn't yellow, it was blue and had paisley print on the fabric, which she apologized for, but Jungkook couldn't have cared less. He started getting up more and enjoying the day from the chair. He began going to the rec room on a regular basis, where he met Jimin and the others. Then, he met Yoongi.
Yoongi was the best thing that ever happened to him. When he met Yoongi, the whole world seemed to change. He was the first normal that knew what he was capable of, well, half of it, and still gave him the time of day. He was sweet, kind, caring, all those cliche adjectives, but Jungkook meant each one. He was special. Unlike any other person Jungkook had ever had the pleasure of knowing. He had his flaws, like everyone did, yet, Jungkook couldn't help but feel in the oddest way attracted to him. Like every moment in his life was built for him to meet Yoongi. That in his twenty years of living, every single second led to this result. Meeting Yoongi was like fate, a destiny meant for a soul who never thought he had one. He was hooked on this feeling of euphoria that the blue haired gave him. Yoongi made him feel so many ways and each one was bliss. He never wanted to leave it or it him, and Yoongi seemed to feel the same way, or at least that's what he was thinking as he went down the hall towards the younger's room.
