The Villain Of Our Story

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A/n: i posted an unfinished chapter called woop before... sorry bout that lmao... my thumb slipped.

"It is better to have a steady income than to be fascinating Jungkook," Taehyung replied when I dared bring up the idea of him changing his profession again, grumbling like a bear before gnawing at the old piece of bread that was his breakfast.

The man sat hunched at the dinner table, a dead look in his eyes as it was soon time for him to leave for work again. From seven in the morning until five in the afternoon Taehyung chopped wood, worsening the issues he had with his back and risking his health everyday for a small pay that barely kept us surviving.

We had tried for months to find Taehyung a job as groundskeeper or gardener when we first moved into the neighborhood, but there were little to no houses with a garden in the city. I'd been hoping to convince Taehyung to paint again. To sell portraits and follow his passion, but the man was too sullen to even pick up a brush, depression completely extinguishing his creative mind.

"Tae... this isn't making you happy," I said, sitting across from Taehyung at the dinner table with my own breakfast, stating a fact that I thought the man couldn't possibly undermine. "Isn't happiness more important than-"

"What? Food? Clothes? Water?"

I pursed my lips, my opinion again treated like silly and childish thoughts as it usually was.

"I am done having this conversation with you for the hundredth time," Taehyung said, and I suddenly noticed how over the years, the man's complexion had gone from a caramel, warm tan, to a paler greyish shade. He took a sip of his pitch black coffee and grimaced, the taste one he had forced himself to tolerate with time.

"We all know what happened last time you decided to follow your heart," the man mumbled quietly to himself.

I bit my lips, looking away, glaring as I took the hit.

"So you will just wait..." I said matter-of-factly. "Until you can't walk at all like some cripple."

Taehyung's dark eyes shot up at me, but as usual I didn't meet them. "That's a problem for another time," he said, squinting at me like I was the villain of our story. "We'll deal with whatever happens then."

I pushed my toungue against the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at how thickheaded and stubborn Taehyung was being. I didn't want to speak up and annoy him as anger was an emotion Taehyung often felt, but I hated the useless position he'd trapped me in.

"Sure," I said sassily perking my brow, grabbing my breakfast and empty cup of coffee to retreat back into the kitchen. "Just wait 'till it all gets worse and figure it out then," I sarcastically mouthed to myself, not brave enough to actually speak the words.

I loudly placed my dishes into the sink and took quivering breaths as the tension between Taehyung and I choked me out like I was being hanged.

I screwed my eyes shut, remembering words my sister had told me on her deathbed. When she wore a smile on her face despite her close proximity to the unknown.

"Every story has a happy ending brother, if it's not happy, it's not the end."

I smiled past the tears burning in my eyes, still hearing her fragile voice whispering in my ear.

Perhaps it was her, the memory of my sister that had kept this childlike way of thinking engraved into my brain. This idea that fairytales could still come true, no matter how badly the world wanted one to read boring old books written by soulless old men.

It was becoming harder to keep her alive though, I could not lie, but I was still trying, I wasn't giving up yet.

"It's just so hard sister..." I whispered, fighting against my tears. "I don't know how to fix it all..."

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