Snow Flower - A Taekook tale

Part 1

Jungkook blows air in his hands in an attempt to warm them, the gloves barely doing their job. His heavy coat and joggers struggle to keep his bones at an acceptable warmth. 

"Uh~That's great," he says with a smile as he uses the steam of his teapot as a source of warmth.

The cold of that morning was outrageous. Wind blowing the windows enough to startle him out of nowhere and he would chuckle for being scared. Today more than others, the temperature is low. To make it more fun, his house has been without energy for the most part of the day, and living in the middle of nowhere wasn't helping at all. He curses himself for being so secluded.

He pours the water into the coffee and hums with the soft smell of grains and the warmth of the mug. The first gulp sends him to heaven. He checks his phone to see it is dead. He smiles, "Perfect," he says ironically.

But maybe it isn't this bad? At least he doesn't have to answer requests for more draws or people asking why he skipped Christmas. He just didn't feel like going. He's been an edifice artist for 9 years, but for the last five, he's grown a fan of people and landscapes. With so much on his plate, he can only thank the fact that he has no contact with the world outside. Magazines, newspapers, and of course, art lovers are always looking for his drawings, and to have a more peaceful space for drawing he moved to this place.

"You had to come this far, Jeon Jungkook," he says as he looks through the window to see nothing but violent snowflakes. "But it's still beautiful, anyway."

He walks back to his small living room, thanking heavens and Jimin for having enough firewood or he would be gone by now. He will never regret that day when Jimin forced him to cut wood as the friend was mad at his fiancé.

He sits on the couch and appreciates the view. Snow falls faster and faster and he knows the electricity won't come back any time soon; no company will fix anything within this storm.

He sighs, pulls a blanket to cover himself, grabs a book, and by the light and warmth of the fire, sets a peaceful environment. He reads until his eyes feel heavy and he's taken to dreamland.

Outside is the complete opposite. The snow is heavy and the cold is bone-breaking. No one dared to be out in this weather but he didn't care, he had to leave for good or for bad. He would be free.

He blinks tightly forcing his eyes to focus on what is happening. "Ugh", his head is heavy. He can feel the warm liquid on his forehead and then on his eyes. It was warmer than the car.

"Damn, the heck happened?" He groans

How long Have I been here?..

He curses. It has been almost a day since he's been driving, trying to cross the country but now he's got stuck in his car for the last, who knows how long? He feels his head heavy. The warmth of the car is worn off, and he can feel the chills spiking his spine. "Ugh," He tries to turn the heat on just to realize it's useless.

"Shoot,"

He puts on his coat and beanie, using the last to keep pressing his head and stop the bleeding. Cold creeps on his hands and feet. He starts to wonder if he'll get out of the car alive. The weather isn't on his side either. He looks outside and gulps; it's a desert of white ice.

"I can't stay here."

His breathing is heavy and visible as every move takes double the energy to execute.

"I should've had dinner before I left."

He grabs his gloves and tries to open the door. - Bang - He throws himself against it.