Still with you

Chapter eight

I often remember the first time I saw you. How everything had stopped and fell into place simultaneously.

And then I wonder if I'll ever feel that way again. If I'll ever feel so right so quick.

❈❈❈

Jungkook had just left and Taehyung is sad to see him go. Chanyeol and Haewon, however, seem way too relieved. "I don't like him." Chanyeol announces, crossing his arms over his chest in distaste. Taehyung frowns at his little brother but Nari just rolls her eyes.

"We know, Channie, you're not very subtle."

"And you're not very subtle when you drool all over him like he's some chew toy."

"Wasn't trying to be, idiot."

"As much as I hate to agree with Chan—"

"Hey! Why do you h—"

"He is kind of annoying... Something about him just rubs me the wrong way."

"Well, he rubs me the right way!"

"..."

"Wording, Nari, Wording."

"What?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"She's eight, you dumbass! Of course, she doesn't understand what you mean."

"Why are you both so mean to me!?"

"Because it's funny, Chan."

"And deserved."

"And deserved."

The eldest of the four doesn't do much to stop their bickering as he walks over to the kitchen to wash the dishes in preparation for dinner. He only half listens as they go on and on, completely diverging from the original topic at hand. They somehow end up arguing over who helps Taehyung the most around the house, whilst ironically, not helping him clean up. Jungkook seemed to have had an epiphany watching Taehyung all snuggled up next to his mother and asked right then and there if he could take a picture of the moment. After a few seconds of incredulous silence, Taehyung and Yejin both agree but Yejin asks that her face not be in frame, Jungkook nods his head as he pulls out his phone and swipes up into the camera app.

And now, Taehyung's eyes flit over to where the large canvas resides, still leaning up against the white wall of memories and photographs. A light sketch lies upon it granted by Jungkook's skillful hand. The shot mainly focuses on Taehyung's face as he looks up at his mother but their interlinked hands are another, lesser, focal point. As requested, the picture cuts off before Yejin's face is revealed, and that only gives the painting-to-be even more charm. It already looks good as a scribbly sketch, the brown-haired man wonders how incredible it will be in colour. He takes a deep breath as he pulls out a pot to start boiling some pasta.

Tashyungs feelings about Jungkook are complicated. He's attractive, that much is obvious, and they seem to get along easily. It's probably because of those two things that Taehyung always feels so nervous around him. Why his heartbeat always picks up a little, why his face always feels hot. But he's only known him for two weeks, much too little time to develop anything more than a feeling of friendship toward him. Plus, Taehyung remembers his aversion to... He doesn't want to say love, but romance. How the only display of such little him had witnessed had ended in catastrophe. He remembers the oppressive and restrictive feeling of their old house back in Paris, how the walls and floor used to shake with ear-piercing screams and sobs and pleas. How waking up every day was a challenge, a fight against drowning, against dying.