Out of the Woods

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I got a request for a oneshot which involved a character with Tourette's Syndrome. I have done some research into the condition, but I don't have it myself, so if you're interested in learning more about it, the internet will be much more useful than I am. And this won't be an entirely accurate or representative portrayal of Tourette's because again, I don't have it and therefore cannot speak for that community for them. That wouldn't be right. But this request is about six months late or something by now...but hopefully it's still vaguely acceptable! 

The forest was one of the places I felt safest in, growing up. The trees don't care if you twitch a little sometimes, and sometimes the birds reply when you accidentally find yourself whistling their tunes. I could go there alone if I wanted, because it was so close to my house, and I didn't have to explain where I was going. My mother always knew. She didn't need to ask. And unless she needed me to stay at home for some reason, she never tried to stop me. She understood, could see the benefits of the forest on my mood, on my attitude, on my life. And she valued it almost as much as I did. 

Now, as I grow older, I don't have as much free time as I used to. The schoolwork, the weekend job, it piles up, and I don't have the opportunity to escape to the old route I used to take. The dog walkers come down here these days, anyway, and it's been built up a little. The animal track has been given extra sturdiness, for better access, and over the years the footsteps have packed down the dirt. 

But today is my chance to escape, back into nature, even if it doesn't feel the exact same as it did when I was a kid. The atmosphere is the same, but I get interrupted by other people a lot more. It's a lot harder to find a peaceful spot, when people bring inquisitive children and talkative friends to my little safe haven, out in the woods. 

It's one of those days where the forest feels alive, like the earth itself is singing under my feet. It's cold, but not so cold that a coat doesn't ward off the chill. It's the kind of temperature that makes parents think twice about letting their kids out without some sort of barrier to the wind, the kind of breeze that makes the leaves seem to echo the melodies of birdsong. 

Autumn has always been my favourite season. The fiery shades of the leaves, the increased population of birds that come from frozen climates, looking for a little warmth for the winter. The squirrels, bounding up the branches with a nut or a stick or something in their tiny paws, noses twitching when they see me watching them. The look of surprise that appears on their tiny faces when one of my ticks makes me whistle some random tune to them. The way they tilt their heads in confusion, and then launch themselves across the path onto another branch, scampering out of sight.

When the ground underfoot is dry and frosty, crunching underfoot with the fallen leaves, I still get that giddy excitement from the sensation, from the satisfying sound that crinkles up from the earth below. When the sun shines through the forest canopy, a little emptier than normal, sending dusky rays of light through the air, it feels a little more like some dumb fairy tale. Like magic could exist somewhere, if we just knew how to reach out to it. 

I love it. 

"Now I get why you love this place so much," a familiar voice murmurs from beside me, and I glance over at him, take in the way his pale face seems brighter in this light, even though his cheeks have gone red from the chill. He's not wearing a hat, again, like an idiot. Jungkook never realises how to look after himself. 

Good thing he has me, I guess. 

"It's so peaceful, isn't it?" I respond simply, softly, and then I feel a gloved hand slip into my own, squeeze slightly. I return the gesture almost instinctively, my fingers moving a little faster than I tell them to, and his awestruck expression breaks into a fond smile. 
"Thank you for sharing this place with me, Tae. I know how much it means to you." 

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