My Viewpoint || J.JK ✓

62

i'm really scared about this chap. hope after this, everything makes a little sense👉👈

😁📖
Do 🚿 your ❤⭐✨

The Truth.

“nothing could, can and will ever keep us apart.”

Lazily sauntering around the house, I explored the places untold and unknown to the outside world. The aesthetically pleasing blends soothed the human eye, even with the ugliest and prettiest of the colours mixed up haphazardly.

That's the indication of an artistic eye. Which I have no doubt Jungkook had. His perspective of seeing things and chalking them in his mind is a treat to the brain and a blessing to the eyes.

I allow my hands to skim the borders of the paintings that were kept hidden in one corner, hidden from the world to see but I had my way to find them out. Each painting had a deep meaning behind it, be it a simple scenery, as simple as that of the edge of a leaf or as complicated as the eye of the human. He knew his way with colours and his hands were skilled enough with blending and blurring the line between art and reality.

I stand in front of the painting, the daisy painting. Somehow, I had a strong connection with it. I didn't know why, but seeing it I would remember my past self. I could almost see the smiling facade I would put on and the witch-like laughs that would be complimented with me rolling on the ground.

My fingers pressed against the painting. The raw paint flaked a little, giving an idea of how old it was. The glass frame wasn't there around it, it was as if it were meant to be raw and untouched. Just like a dead leaf. The last leaf of autumn fallen on the ground.

It was supposed to be a simple painting. It wasn't supposed to fall over when my palms pressed against it. It wasn't supposed to reveal a secret passage, loomed in darkness. The stairway wasn't supposed to intrigue me to enter into the darkness. And it surely wasn't supposed to end in an empty room wherein one could see millions of souvenirs as in papers and photographs and polaroids, scattered around, delicately arranged in a particular order.

It wasn't too dark nor too light. One couldn't see any cobwebs around as in a neglected room. It sure was used frequently enough. And maintained. My feet travel slowly into the small compartment like room.

The atmosphere reeked of nostalgia. I could feel it in my nerves, the smell of past years as I made myself stand and stare around in the space. My breath hitched when my eyes landed on a portrait of what looked like a family. They looked royally bred with the way they sat, the gaze they held and the power they radiated.

In a navy blue suit, what I assume was the father of the two, stood beside the teenage boy on the hospital bed, who had a tube attached through his nose to the oxygen tank that the stand supported. But his grin etched so far, no one could presume he was in a hospital, in that state. A charming lady with an alluring smile stood beside the other son, with her hands wrapped around his arm. But unlike the smiles others held, he looked rather grim. With blank eyes, straight lips and no emotion.

My eyes sadden when I gaze at his face. I wasn't used to this Jungkook, for from the first moment I had always seen him cheery. The picture seemed to be the most recent one, about three or four years ago. The elders were no doubt Mr and Mrs Jeon. They looked normal and if anything, they looked very careful about their offsprings, no matter how old they were. No chance in hell would they allow a single scratch on their bloodline. And that threat was untold yet loud and clear.