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Jungkook worked at The Blushing Guinea Pig, the only tavern in the small town of Oldhaven, located on a road travelled mostly by troops heading for the northern borders which came under attack every winter. Career soldiers as well as heroes of varying valour, rangers, sorcerers apprentices, anyone looking for experience, fortune, or simply hoping to make a name for themselves, would spend at least one night at The Blushing Guinea Pig before making for the mountainous trails that lead into enemy territory.
Jungkook loved to listen to their tales of heroic acts and feats of arms but knew he was not allowed to dream of such glorious adventures for himself. He was just the son of an innkeeper after all.
Many guests were regulars. They'd come back every year, when duty (or the promise of riches) called. Taehyung was one of them. Jungkook only noticed him because of his own clumsiness. He'd spilled a bowl of boiling soup onto his hands and instead of dousing them in fresh water, Taehyung had brought them close to the burning candle sitting on top of the table. Jungkook still couldn't explain why he'd let the man touch him. Perhaps it was because he looked like he knew what he was doing, softly chanting magic formulas (that's what Jungkook guessed they were) until the scalds vanished.
A healer.
From then on, they would greet each other every time Taehyung visited. The man was not much of a talker. He never mentioned the battlefield and what he had seen, or done. Jungkook thought of him as one of these modest yet true heroes whose names are forgotten but whose deeds eventually turn into songs and legends. He looked forward to their yearly quiet conversations. Taehyung was an amazing listener. To say nothing of his good looks, which made their long-awaited brief encounters so pleasant.
"It's always snowing when I visit," Taehyung had said one day.
"You should visit during spring time," Jungkook had suggested. "We have lovely blossoms."
Taehyung had smiled. "I believe I would like that."
So Jungkook had waited until winter had subsided. Until the snow had melted. Until the flowers had bloomed. That's when Jungkook realized Taehyung would not be coming back.
܀
It took him a whole year to convince his father to let him go. Life at the inn had become unbearable. Every time someone would walk in through the door, Jungkook's heart would leap with hope, only to ache in silence as random visitors kept dropping by. The boy had never realized a heart could break dozens of times a day. The closing of a window, the clatter of dishes in the sink, the carefree conversations — the sounds of life if you will — amplified by the coldness he'd surround himself with, would shatter him to his core, turning his nerves into needles that pricked his very soul.
He left right before the blooming of the first snowdrops, turning his back on the tavern and on those cursed northern mountains beyond.
A short week later, the silhouette of a broken man trudging down the road leading to the inn stood out against the dark ridges looming in the distance. "Jungkook?" was the first thing he said when he finally stepped inside The Blushing Guinea Pig.
܀
After years of vagabondage, Jungkook's wandering steps eventually led him back down a familiar road. What an odd feeling that was, to return home as a stranger. Scrutinizing the old tavern from afar, he noticed the name change: The Cherry Blossom.
Something wild was beating inside him as he hurried toward the front door. Apart from the name, the place seemed no different. A little brighter perhaps, with lanterns flickering in the darkest corners of the uncrowded dining room. And small flower arrangements gracing every table.
"Good afternoon. How can I h-"
That throaty voice. That timorous silence. That familiar profile which was presently walking toward him with a shaky step. "Taehyung—"
"You — you came back."
From the sound of it, this prospect had long been discarded. Just like Jungkook had given up on the idea of ever seeing Taehyung alive again. Yet there he was, within reach, looking good despite the weight loss and the limp. Why then did it still hurt so bad?
"Where have you been?"
"What happened to you?"
They had spoken at the same time and both smiled at their blatant eagerness to make sense of the present. "My father?" Jungkook ended up asking, to distract himself from his throbbing heart.
"He passed away a few years ago."
"I see." Expect he could hardly distinguish anything, what with the mist that had settled in his eyes.
"You don't look well," Taehyung whispered, hand reaching up to squeeze Jungkook's shoulder gently. Just a touch to remind him that this was real.
"I thought you were dead all this time."
"Death did come visit me once. But she only managed to take a limb." Taehyung knocked on his wooden leg for good measure. "Turns out the skills needed to regrow bone are quite different from the ones I use to mend broken cartilage."
"You are unbelievable," Jungkook confessed with tears in his eyes and laughter in his throat. "But I'm afraid I'm beyond repair."
Taehyung placed a hand over Jungkook's heart, causing the skin to warm under his touch. "You forget what I am."
A healer.
"Can I stay the night?" Jungkook asked, hopeful.
"You can stay for as long as you'd like. This place is all yours, per your father's will."
The tears returned but of joy this time, and Jungkook caught himself thinking that perhaps, this was the path to happiness. Taehyung's presence by his side was already more than he'd ever dared dream of.
Needless to say, Taehyung's morning kisses and midnight cuddles also did wonders to heal his once broken heart.
܀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ܀
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