❝that addictive bitterness you like to call love.❞
My first fan fiction ever, so there'll be some mistakes. But I hope you'll like it!
completed.
start date: 2017, April 1st
end date: 2018, July 16th
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.Winner of the Face Award on Red and Gold 20...
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The air was cold, still and the sun shined blindingly bright. There wasn't a sound besides his slow footsteps against the green grass, crushing the dry orange, yellow and red leaves that already had fallen from the now stripped away trees. The flowers, sitting next to the graves had shrunken in their beautiful colors, turning pale and their petals had started to wither.
It wasn't a frightening silence, but a rather peaceful one. However, much to his demise, he didn't feel a string of peace running through them, just a hollow quietness sinking deeper and deeper into him, as his eyes found their way to the tomb he looked for.
He brought flowers, blue hibiscus, and even though, he still felt pathetic for not only being here but, also bringing them, he swallowed his pride and carried on. Today was the first time he had came to visit and, he hadn't never planned to visit if he didn't know the truth right now. If he hadn't found regret in himself to do so.
Taehyung had said he had kept a caregiver for the grave and he could clearly see it, there weren't dead leaves on top of it, nor gross weeds growing on the edges of the stone sepulture, like the other ones before. It looked clean, peaceful. And, as he approached it, Jungkook couldn't avoid the feeling of him not belonging there, of him not having the right to step this close. And, perhaps, he didn't but life was about confronting your struggles and move forward from them.
He squatted down, his eyes on the same level of the top of the granite tombstone. He reached his fingertips to brush away a red leaf that, meanwhile, had settled on top of it, moving almost hesitantly, as if afraid, any moment now, it could be brought back to life.
He stared at it, wordlessly. The cold air freezing his facial muscles but, now, he didn't give a damn about it, the soft wind that came along and went away brushed the brims of his hair, which had gotten the darkest of the browns. His lips felt dry and his throat constricted as he watched it, the frozen halt that had been imprinted to life. Because of him.
Jungkook didn't know how much time he stayed there, eyes fixed, never wavering, rarely blinking. Lulled by the silence and the bright sun that shined directly on top of his head, making him dizzy.
He had only shifted once, making himself more comfortably, he sat down on the grass, elbows propped on top of his knees, chin supported on his wrists, and he kept staring at it. Breath calm and eyes focused on the carved letters of the tombstone. Reading it over and over again, mouthing it to himself, singing it to his mind.
Kim Seokjin, 1992-2019, our great brother.
"Hi."
His voice was barely audible, Jungkook hadn't even heard himself, but he wished he had. He didn't quite know what to say without feeling like it would only be in vain now. He ran his fingers through his hair, it frustrated him. Jungkook looked over at the blue hibiscus that now adorned the grave. "I brought flowers... I don't know if you like them but I guess they're nice...blue was your favorite color... and I got them at the shop on my way here and— fuck." He sighed pained, a curve on his lips, bitter smile at his ridicule. "What the hell am I even doing...? You're dead."
