16 year old Jimin finds a lonely 16 year old Taehyung one day during a summer.
Jimin fills the lonely void in Tae's heart. Though Jimin too, has loneliness of his own.
Honestly, it was that one summer that change a part of both of them. But,
was it...
A/n: valentines be passing and I'm still lonely. lol #independentwoman. Hey, are u guys beavers? Cauzzz DAMMM.
Jimin's POV
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"You've finally woke up."
The first words that greeted me after my miserable sleep. My eyes had dragged open as my cheek rested cold against the car window. The dark shadows of rain droplets stared back at me through the glass wall, a dash of light passing quickly by, making the shadows run.
I turn my head to the person in the drivers seat, squinting my eyes to see through the hazy darkness only to feel my face stiff. At first confusion was all I felt, but with more seconds passing I realised that it's hardened by my dried tears of last night, and the feelings began flooding back in.
Last night, a memory too painful that I don't want to recall it. It'll only make me cry more, only make my throat hurt once more, and only make my vision blurry once again.
"Mummy, where are we going," I ask quietly, my throat throbbing from my midnight sobs, trying to drift my mind off the reason I'm like this.
And how it's my fault that I'm suffering.
"The doctors," she informs me in a tone matching mine as well as the atmosphere, gloomy and saddened.
There was a moment of silence between this. My depressed mind trying hard to pick up on her words. The doctor? Why do I need to go there?
Those were the words that my brain laid out for me to say, but a simple "Why?" is what popped out with my voice small, no real wonder in my question, but I wanted to know why she would carry me there.
"Your father said you were sick, very sick." She starts, a pause in between to sigh out her overwhelming worries. "He didn't explain why but he insisted I carry you there. He was spouting something about you sexual genital or something."
Her words sounded a little frantic, but I think it was her just her worried tone taking the lead. She wasn't sure what was happening to her son that her husband desperately made her take me to a doctor. But she took a deep breath, staying quite for the information to sink in for me.
Again my brain struggles to decipher the words spoken to me at first, but in the end I felt like I had some clue to why.
Father. Sick. Sexual.
Those terms popping like they were highlighted, my mental state dragging over all of them like I was reading Braille. Such key word to this whole puzzle of sentences leaving my mother's mouth.
My father. A figure for me to look up too. I'm sad to say I don't feel the connection most boys have with their dads. From the very beginning he was just a bundle of descriptions to me. Even though my mum's work was basically her life, my dad always travelled over seas for some reason. He was never there, and was only a silhouette of a person I'm supposed to want to become, to be a boy worthy of being his son; so I didn't want to disappoint him. When he told me it was like a slap to the face, but before he did physically slap me. Both stung badly. So from the words he told my mother I question.
