"May death be our last kiss, my love."
They were far; then they were near; then they were nowhere, now they are closer than ever before. And each time, it's for the worse.
In a place where two lovers are never supposed to be united, Jungkook belie...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jungkook's eyes skidded to the damped window. Rain was pouring incessantly over Seoul, the air smelled of petrichor – poignant and immutable. The few people who had been left unprotected from the storm now dashed frantically down the flooded streets, soaked, and probably freezing. All Jungkook could do was stare impassively as he basked in the relief of being arid and cozied.
He was resting in the back of a red booth, pacified by the light jingle that worked as a background noise. Jungkook didn't know when he had started drumming with his fingers under the table, unfazed by the person sitting opposite of him.
"Earth to Jungkook," Taehyung's voice chimed in, and it got Jungkook blinking wondrously against the bristling fluorescent light of the lamp hanging above their heads. A sense of concussion overwhelmed him. No matter how many times he would hear Taehyung calling him by his name, the sound of it would never cease to amaze him.
Jungkook cleared his throat, gaze casting to the untouched drink which he didn't remember ordering. His brows furrowed as he tried to fathom the flavor – it had a conspicuously green color and a small Hawaiian umbrella floating above the surface. It was funny given the fact it was the middle of December. "Sorry, I've been zooning out the entire morning."
Taehyung's scrutinizing gaze lasted for another second or two before it dropped completely, and he leaned his back against the satin cushions. "We can go out in the rain if that will help you clear your mind." Sarcasm poured out of his mouth, layered with a hint of overt annoyance.
"I was just wondering how those people managed in a weather like this." Jungkook confessed, going back to contemplating the sight of passing pedestrians. "It's so poetry today."
"So what?" Taehyung asked, face falling in conniving befuddlement, not certain he had heard him correctly.
"Poetry," Jungkook repeated. "The weather. It's like a poem. Where each word is more than one thing at once and everything's a metaphor. The meaning condensed into rhythm and sound and the spaces between sentences. It's all intense and sharp, like the cold and the wind."
Taehyung's expression was mingling between complete bewilderment and pure fascination. His eyes were glinting with the entreaty to hear more of Jungkook's poesy like reasoning, as if it were a melody composed by a musician who would never play it for a second time and yet the crowd was yearning to hear more despite not understanding the true gist of the masterpiece.
Jungkook felt oddly embarrassed upon noticing the tacit way in which Taehyung questioned his motives. He thought of a quick way to change the topic but all he could focus on was the weird aroma that came off Taehyung's mug. "What are you drinking?" He hoped the abrupt swift of conversations would suffice to bring them back to normalcy.
Taehyung, obviously stunned by the randomness of the question, blinked at him before the realization that he'd been asked something dawned on him. "Tall skim milk matcha green latte," he answered and Jungkook felt ridiculous by the comparison of their beverages – his tropical milkshake and Taehyung's hot latte which matched perfectly with the winter weather.
