His Cure |Taennie|

10.

"Are you feeling okay?" Jennie asked, stroking his locks as he laid his head against her thigh, sitting on the carpet as they both worked on their respective work.

"Just a Minor headache, that's all." Taehyung fronted.

He knew she wasn't stupid, far from it actually, but he just wasn't sure if now was the time to tell her.

It had barely been a week since that day, on the carpet, and it had only been so long since they officially started dating.

He was even more shocked as he felt those familiar lips come in contact softly with his forehead, her elegant hand brushing his locks away from his forehead as she did so.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong. You don't have to talk to me. But just take care of yourself okay? At least promise me that." She said, as he brought her hand down, kissing it.

That soft gesture she did warmed his heart.

He understood that she would never push him, and that she would still be there.

If she was willing to wait for his word, he knew that she didn't care about the fact that he was slow at opening up, and that's all he ever wanted.

"Today's my moms death anniversary." He confessed, as he felt her hand stiffen for a second, but was relieved as he felt her shift, her other hand coming down to hug him.

"I would normally want to visit her grave, like I want to every year. But, it never happens. I can't help it, I always believe it's my fault." He confessed, his eyes closing shut at the thought of it as he felt her stroke his palm with her thumb.

"Tae.." she started, her melodious voice filling her ears.

"You were barely in 10th grade when the incident happen. You were a kid. I don't know what happened, but I do know it wasn't you who murdered her right?" She commented, as he shook his head saying no.

"You always feel guilty after losing a loved one. Trust me. But, it's important you realise that it wasn't in your hands. You were a kid Taehyung, you were still not old enough to realise your actions. I bet your mother would be proud of how far you've come. I don't know what happened that night, but I can assure you she, or anyone for that matter, doesn't blame you." She said, coming down to sit beside him as he laid in her lap, hugging her waist.

"I don't know, if I was back, maybe if I hadn't gone to soccer that day and gone home instead, I could've stopped him." He answered, as her fingers stroked his hair, soothingly.

"Put it this way, if there was a death of a lady in the neighbourhood would you blame her kid for it? Just because he goes for his soccer practice, something he does usually? Would you blame her kid for someone else? No. I don't know about you Taehyung, and I want you to take your time, but stop blaming yourself. That's something you need to grow on. And to start, whenever you're ready, why don't you visit your mother. I bet she misses you." She answered, as she stroked his cheek, smiling tenderly as he only gazed into her eyes, then looked away, deep in thought.

—-

Taehyung feet crunched the grass below as he walked ahead, a pink box in his hands as he neared the engraved tombstone.

Sitting down, he placed the box first before paying his respects, and then began to talk.

"I don't know how talking aimlessly to a cement block would help, but it helps others, so maybe it's my turn now. Happy birthday mom. I don't really know how to do this, so I got you flowers, tulips, your favourites. I'm in college now, the university you always wanted me to go to. Jimin, Jungkook and I are all still friends, and Seokjin still brings me food." Taehyung laughed at the end, remembering the guys' face.

"He's always so angry if I leave even a grain of rice. But, he's nice company who Ik always grateful for. How are you? Is the after life actually nice? If there is one that is. I met a girl recently, her name is Jennie and we had started dating." He smiled, as he remembered her smile as he told her he was visiting his mother.

"She's the one who convinced me to come here. I think you'll like me, and she and you would've probably made macaroons together if you would have met. I haven't visited the prison yet, I just can't face him." He said, as he remembered, inhaling a deep breath, before looking ahead.

In the distance he could see a mother and daughter holding hands, standing in front of a grave, as the girl placed a bouquet of flowers down, talking animatedly to the grave as if the person were actually there.

Maybe that's what's so great about the childlike wonder, the one trait an adult would kill to possess, along with their imagination.

It seemed they could piece what they were missing by pretending it was there, pretending they weren't alone with imaginary friends and stuffed animals, pretending they had a better life as a princess or a prince, a knight or a warrior, by just pretending.

It was something he wished he could do as easily, but it never came that way. He could never heal the piece of his broken heart with imagination, and it could only be healed with time. Time and growth.

Sighing he looked down.

"I'm sorry, mom." He muttered as he burst out crying. And maybe that was the point that he needed to reach, to finally start his journey of forgiving himself.

He realised no one blamed him, but it was his own conscience that had eaten him up, and it was time he got out of that trap, and regained himself.

And so he sat there, finally letting himself breathe, as he let out his pent up frustration in a graveyard, where he never noticed Jennie who stood to a side, making sure he was okay before smiling and walking away, plugging in her earphones.