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It was 3:30 am.

In other words, Devil's Hour.

Jungkook stayed up.

When did he ever sleep after all?

He rarely dreamt; he would wonder, what was there to dream about?

He was afraid of the demons that came after his body. He looked down at his hands again.

The scars he made to himself; only reminded him of pain and regrets.

Yet he continued to harm himself.

The thought itself made Jungkook paranoid.

Maybe the problem wasn't in the people, he was the one who was problematic.

Did he even deserve anything in the world he was brought into in the first place?

He looked like someone who just suffered from a severe fits attack: disheveled hair, puffed eyes, mind in a state of confusion, unsteady breath, dry throat and yet a certain fear that crowned his eyes ㅡ he was crying.

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