Breathe Me | Jikook

3

"Are you cold?" Taehyung asked, his hand still around Jungkook's wrist as if he were afraid to let go, as if he were afraid Jungkook would turn and run. Jungkook was looking around, examining his surroundings, a habit he had picked up. Taehyung's house was nearly just as he remembered it: warm, welcoming, friendly. There were baby pictures of Taehyung on the wall, his smile the same as it was now. The everlasting light shining behind his eyes.

But, now, as Jungkook walked towards the kitchen where he could hear silverware clinking together, everything felt distant, so far away. Like he was a stain on something so bright.

And when Taehyung's gentle grandmother smiled at Jungkook so lovingly, nearly every bit of the air in his chest left him.

"Jungkook! I was beginning to think I'd never see you again." Her voice sounded more weathered than it did the last time he heard it. Nevertheless, she still made the same actions, the same slow steps around the table to wrap her frail arms around Jungkook.

"Hey, Grandma." Jungkook said. The hug was pulling something out of him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it both ached and felt warm at the same time.

The smell of the food was rising up to meet him. Jungkook's favorite foods were as plain as day: pork bone rice soup with a side of bread. His mouth started to water.

Taehyung's grandmother let go of Jungkook, and then sat down at the table. Taehyung sat down as well, and Jungkook made the movement to sit down, one single thought going through his head like a mantra: You're normal. You're normal. You are normal.

When the streamy wisps rising from the bowl danced with his sense of smell, Jungkook's stomach growled. However, the soup, a simple dish, scared him. If he couldn't stomach his favorite dish, then what could he eat?

He picked up the spoon, pleased to find that his fingers weren't trembling so badly the soup would slosh out of the side. This brought some bit of relief, and perhaps hope, at the fact that he might be able to finish his meal.

"Jungkook," Taehyung's grandmother said, picking up her bread in one hand and her spoon in the other. "how's your family doing? We don't hear from you all very often anymore."

"Good." Jungkook said, but really, he didn't know how his family was doing. He simply trudged through everyday, trapped in a very selfish bubble. "Jung-hyun seems to be studying well."

"That's good. I heard from your mother that he draws like you do. Is that true?" After her question she ate a bite of her soup, eyes still pinned on Jungkook. He looked down into his bowl.

Was Jung-hyun drawing? Jungkook didn't know, and he hated that he didn't know. If Jung-hyun was drawing, then Jungkook could help him, could teach him a few things.

"I haven't seen anything of his yet." Was the only answer Jungkook could give. He hated it.

The entire time Taehyung's grandmother had been talking to him, Jungkook could feel Taehyung's eyes pinned on him. Scanning his face, his hands. Jungkook felt like he was under scrutiny and it made his skin itch.

In an effort to make Taehyung stop worrying, Jungkook took a bite of his food. It was hot, very hot, and burned his tongue, but it tasted like ginger and garlic, with sweet and savory notes all through it. The pork itself was so tender it just melted in his mouth. For once, he didn't taste a bland mess.

Swallowing was still a challenge, but it still went down and sat on his uneasy stomach without him gagging.

"Speaking of art," Taehyung said, his mouth half full of food, "did you finish that one piece you were working on?"