Taekook/Vkook Oneshots [✔]

Don't Go

     request: @taekookstudios – angst. this is a long one.
     word count: 2226
     status: edited :)

                            

     Jeongguk stuffed his hands in the pocket of his puffer jacket. A gust of midwinter wind swept across the expanse of flat land, leading countless leaves in dramatic swirls like a practiced dance. In the distance, against the railing of the bridge, his bike stood faithfully in its temporary prison, held by thin chains.

     Vrrrr vrrrr vrrrr

     Jeongguk pulled his phone out of his pocket and stopped. His mother's contact shone brightly, casting blue highlights across his features. Above him, the overcast sky was fading from its glowing white, becoming a gray color. Soon, it would be devoid of light, and devoid of what heat it held in the first place. Jeongguk sighed and swiped to answer the call.

     "Hello?"

     "Jeongguk? Are you on your way home?"

     "Yeah."

     "Okay, good. I was worried since you're usually home by this time."

     "Yeah, I know."

     "...Is something wrong?"

     Jeongguk sighed, watching his breath cloud in front of him. "Yeah. But, um, it's fine. I'll be home soon."

     "Jeongguk, what's wrong?"

     "Nothing." There was a moment of silence, before Jeongguk realized he'd already admitted there had been something wrong. He ran numb fingers through his fringe. "I got tired of waiting by the school. It's been a month and I've never seen him. Or any of my old friends, actually."

     "Oh?"

     "Yeah. So I... well, I went to his old house."

     "Oh. Oh? Oh..."

     "Yeah." His eyes burned with oncoming tears. He swallowed hard to clear the tightness in his throat. "There was, uh... it was empty."

     "Oh, Jeongguk." His mother sounded so sympathetic, so gentle, it only made him want to cry more. "Do you want me to come pick you up?"

     "No, that's okay, mum. I'd rather bike."

     "I understand. Be safe, it's getting dark." 

     "Yeah. By mum."

     "Bye, sweetie."

     Jeongguk listened to the beep of the call ending. He didn't pull his phone away until he saw it light up against his face out of the corner of his eye. The device felt heavy in his pocket, and his head felt heavier. 

     He remembered the day he'd told Taehyung he was moving. The look on the elder's face was burned into his mind like a photo on polaroid film. Pure pain. The elder hugged him so tightly, kissed him so ardently, and Jeongguk remembered the salty taste left in his mouth from their combined tears. He remembered the panic that flared in his chest when he turned around to see Taehyung's mother staring at them in horror. He remembered the earsplitting screech of her rage, and the promise to separate them forever. 

     Taehyung's mother, that homophobic witch, was delighted to find that Jeongguk was moving away that day. She said he was never invited back, that he could never see her son again. He remembered the sound of Taehyung sobbing softly as she pulled him upstairs by his hair, leaving Jeongguk alone just outside their front door.