Little Prince ✔️

25

Lisa texted Taehyung announcing a change of plan.

She's not coming home tonight.

She also told Taehyung to relay the message about the spare key under the carpet.

Although you can't believe you were toyed, you decide to let them be.

After stepping out of the vehicle and watching Taehyung's car disappear into the night, you begin making your way to the house.

As told, the key's hiding under the carpet. You pick it up, shove it into the hole and twist the door open.

The moment you flicker the lights on and spot a familiar figure standing in hall, your body automatically boils with hate.

What is he doing here?

Just who does he think he is randomly showing up in the middle of the night?

How did he even manage to get in here?

Lisa.

It had to be her.

That girl's dead when she gets home.

"What are you doing here." You're clenching your knuckle to the point they're glowing white.

And he snorts.

Both of his hands are tucked insides the pockets of his leather dark jeans, a dark red checkered flannel loosely hanging down his body.

"Mean much Noona?" He snickers, mockingly. "Mom wouldn't like that at all."

"Get lost Jeon."

Your attempts to pass him and head straight to your room goes crashing out the open hole of your window when he decides to wrap those disgusting fingers of his around the skin of your arm.

You glare at him.

Realizing what he's done, the latter immediately retracts his hand back down to his side and bites his bottom lip, trembling like a puppy soaked in the rain.

His head's hung low, fingers nervously fiddling the hem of his flannel, but even if he shows no attempts to show you, he's still tall enough for you to notice the gush of red invading his nose, the brim of his eyes slowly starting to glister behind the peaks of his hair.

Great!

He's crying! Again!

"Oh for goodness sake Jeon. Quit crying every time you see me!"

This is getting annoying and frustrating.

The latter chokes back a sniff, refusing to unleash any type of noise that'll unravel his current emotion- failing completely- from escaping his mouth as he hurries to wipe away a tear streaming down cheek.

Even after the third swipe, it still isn't enough. Each attempt to hide away his tears from you only falls to vain, since a new one continuously replaces the other, with another.

"I-I'm not c-crying."

He still doesn't look at you.

-

It's already passed two in the morning when the front door finally creaks open.

Faint footsteps follow afterwards, echoing through the silence of the house.

After a minute or so, you exhale and say.

"When?"

Even if you don't turn back, you know she's already standing there.

Lisa weakly smiles to herself before entering the dim livingroom after getting her fair share of realization that she'sshe'sbeing questioned, carefully dropping her bag beside the couch as she props herself on it.

She doesn't miss the sight of the boy laying his head on your lap.

His nose's still red, the trail of his tears on his cheeks still fresh for Lisa to comprehend that he cried not too long ago.

As if picking up the faint thump of Lisa'a bag dropping, Jungkook's sleeping body stirs faintly, his head shifting to the side that way he's facing your tummy and then goes back to sleep.

"He called earlier this morning." Lisa starts off, staring with amusement as you continue to fiddle with his brown locks. "You didn't call them so he personally wanted to check up on you."

You don't respond after that, recalling back to how he completely broken down his barrier to pour out his bottled emotions.

Flashback

"W-why d-do you hate me so much Noona?" He cries out painfully. "W-what have I done for you to h-hate me this much?"

Nothing. You wanted to tell him that. You wanted to tell him that he didn't do anything wrong. Your hatred for him never had its beginning nor will it ever have its end. You just simply hated him.

"W-why?"

Jungkook's body starts to tremble inhumanly, his loud sobs echoing the room and you honestly start to worry.

You've never seen him like this. I mean, you've witnessed some of his worse-case crying scenarios-you should know that, since he only seems to do them when you're around.

Living under the same roof all those years with you constantly and always pushing the giddy little boy asking you to play with him, away? You'd think he'd give up reaching out to you at some-point in his life. You expected that. But up until now, he still hasn't.

He knows you hate him, but he's never questioned why. Until now.

No longer able to take in his cries, you defeatedly drag him to the couch and sit him there. It's been a while since you've done this, but you know it'll work.

His breath a short lived, an endless sea of tears still gushing down his cheeks and you do the only thing that's able to calm his trembling body down.

With your eyes finding his, you cup his cheeks a press your lips on his forehead. Like always, his arms reflectively encircle themselves around you and he buries his face against the crook of your neck.

His aggressive breathing takes forever to calm down and you move on to the next step. With his stuttering body holding you tight, your bavk and his side leaning comfortably against the couch, you start caressing his back in assurance, ignoring his repeatedly asked question.

"W-why do you hate me N-Noona?"

And you still don't answer him.

Despite your hatred, you always dread the sight of him crying. But what could you do?

You're the one who can stop it, but at the same time. You're also the one triggering it.