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シクラメン autumn
It was Wednesday –– the peak, the hump –– and Jungkook really just wanted the weekend to come. He was tired, exhausted even; every little thing seemed to require so much more effort, even just talking really took it out of him. Taehyung wasn't much better, moving around in a lethargic manner. Now, Seokjin could see the toll this ordeal was taking on his employees. They were emotionally drained, which was leading to physical exhaustion. But neither would go home, when he offered to man the shop for the day –– whether it was pride or dedication, both refused to let their issues interfere with their job.
When lunch came around, Seokjin stepped out with a look directed to Taehyung that said, "I'm giving you two some alone time –– figure things out." Having spent enough time around his cousin, the younger florist was able to read the message. He gave a resigned nod back, accepting that today, whether the result's good or bad, there was going to be a conclusion to this issue. He was going to have to figure things out, with Jungkook.
The brunette had planned to go out to Yoongi's once again, already on his way to grab his coat when Taehyung called out to him. He froze immediately, a weird bumpitty-bump going on in his chest at the sound of the simple, "Jungkook," coming from the pink-haired florist. Turning on his heels, he faced the older male –– well, his body faced him, his gaze was directed closer to the ground.
"Yeah?" He made eye contact for a second, before dropping it. He couldn't look at the older male, not properly, not for long.
"We need to talk."
"Yeah." Need, maybe, but Jungkook certainly didn't want to talk. Confrontation was something he wanted to avoid, to forget this every happened and just go back to being friends and only friends. His pride still stung from the last talk between them, the memory of tears pouring down his cheeks fresh in his mind. Whenever he remembered, his brain would scold him –– boy's don't cry, it would say, making him feel even worse; only weak boys cry.
"Let's go into the back room, it's more private." The younger followed the effeminate male into the room, playing with his apron –– clenching it in his hands, before releasing it, only to bunch it up again. Taehyung leant against the table, thin arms crossing over a thin chest as he looked back at Jungkook. There's a moment of silence, neither wanting to say anything. But then Taehyung cleared his throat, breaking it, "So, have you reached any sort of... conclusion?"
Jungkook shook his head, knuckles going white as he gripped his apron. His fringe fell over his eyes, hiding them.
"No." He said, voice small and choked. "I still don't know... I-I spoke to Grandma and–– and sh-she–– she," Jungkook's bottom lip quivered. God, he was such a baby. "If I'm gay, I–– she won't be happy. She'll disown me and then I'll be out on the streets –– I'll be a disappointment to the family, not even a part of that family anymore. I-I-I––"
