Mythical Short Stories - 방탄손연단 PART 3

{> Seokjin <}

{=|Bouquets|-|JinHope|=}
{=|Vampire|=}

°•●•°

The moonlight shimmered over the lonely village in the forest, thousands of trees hiding it from society. Every little crystal flame of the lit candle had fascinated the young human, driving him to do the kindest things.

It was dead quiet in the village. No voice, no rustling of leaves, no cough of someone who was up.

But Hoseok took deep calm breaths as the moonlight crawled past his window, lighting his face with the book in his hands ever so lightly.

Turning his attention to the bright glowing orb, Hoseok lays his book down.

He smiles to himself, watching as the moon slowly sinks down, his eyes never taking his attention away from the silver surface as it disappears, having hours spend on simply watching the moon set, dawn resting on the horizon.

And slowly, things come to life.

Birds chirping as they flutter their wings to reach the ends of the sky, little rustles as bunnies hop along their self-crafted stone path, and doors opening as the people of the village start to live.

Hoseok feels his smile fading, sad that the night has passed. He has always wondered why they sleep when the dark sky is so much more beautiful than the bright sun.

Yes, sunlight exists and it's bright and gives warmth. But the moon creates such a peaceful atmosphere and the sky is full of jeweled stars.

With a sigh, Hoseok closes his book at the thought, slowly getting up.

He takes a shower and freshes himself up, going out with his bag over his shoulder.

"Good morning Hoseokie!"

Hoseok turns around, smiling as the younger male hurries to his side.

"Jimin, I told you not to run!" Hoseok whines, teasing the shorter with a boop on his nose.

Jimin's pillow lips curl into a pout, his eyes growing big. "But why?"

"The tiles are loose." Hoseok says, kicking one of the tiles in the dirt as it shudders a few centimeters out of place, as to prove a point. "I don't want you to bleed."

Jimin sighs and gives him a smile, cocking his hips. "I can take care of myself!"

"Sure you can." Hoseok chuckles, ruffling Jimin's hair by pressing his hands on the younger's scalp and rushing his fingers through.

The two scurry down to the market a few blocks up, stalls spreading left and right with freshly baked break, sweets and fruits, some stuff for in the house, plants, flowers, bouquets and even antidotes for venomous poison.

No one has ever really found out what it was.

It just happened one time.

Years ago, when Hoseok was just a little boy, there was a spread of a virus. But it only hit two people before it went away.

Sadly, it killed the victims.

Hoseok never forgets how lucky he is to still be alive and standing to this day. Thus, he has a ritual.

At night, usually at dusk, he hurries to the graveyard and places a small bouquet of flowers on the graves on the victims, silently thanking them for their sacrifice.

Jimin knows about it. He thinks it's a little extra, but doesn't dare to interfere. It's a routine, and Hoseok loves his routines.

"So, what are you planning on getting today?" Jimin asks.