The Hybrid Whisperer KTH+JJK

One

The room was a disaster area. Clothes were strewn over the floor and most available surfaces. Dirty dishes were piled precariously on both the dresser and the nightstand, alongside several bottles of water at various levels of full. The fitted sheet on the double bed had sprung a corner and was now curling inward. It was also sporting a new rip, exposing the mattress beneath. The comforter was a twisted, coverless mass at the foot of the bed. But the worst thing, by far, was the feathers. They were everywhere, covering every possible surface like a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Covered everything, that is, except to sad, cotton skins of former down pillows.

“Oh! You have got to be kidding me!” The woman muttered as she stood in the doorway, taking it all in.

“Jeongguk!” She hollered, before stepping gingerly into the mess that was his room.

She pulled chopsticks from between the bowl tower on the dresser and placed them in the top one. It aided in it’s stability, well, a little. The socked arch of her foot found something hard and angular and she yelped in pain. Lifting a still damp towel, she uncovered the unlikely weapon, a broken plywood box. What it’s original purpose had been, or why it was now laying jagged on Jeongguk’s carpeted floors, was a mystery.

“Jeongguk!” She yelled again.

“I’m busy.” The impatient reply filtered up the stairs and she grit her teeth.

“Jeon Jeongguk you get up here this instant!” She practically screamed.

“What?” Came the sullen reply from the doorway. 

Unlike his bedroom, Jeongguk himself was perfectly groomed. His dark, glossy hair curled in thick waves around a pair of alert, black, rabbit ears. His face was clean and dewy, due in part, she was sure, to the numerous lotions and potions she found in his bathroom. His lips held the sheen of lip balm, even his eyebrows were shaped.  His black shirt, fashionably oversized, was pristine. As were his ripped, black skinny jeans. Although she wasn’t sure where he managed to find clean clothes in this mess. Hanging around his neck was the specialised headset designed to compensate for the unusual position of his ears.

“What do you mean, what?” She shrilled. “Look at this room!”

He made a show of looking around before shrugging.

“Look at it! Look at this. What even is this?” She picked up a mug and peered inside. Something brown was congealed at it’s base. She gagged and quickly put it down. “Oh that’s disgusting. You’re cleaning this room.”

“Mama Kim, I’m busy.” He stressed, his ears swivelling toward the stairwell.

“Not anymore you’re aren’t.” She fired back. “Get in here and clean up this filth.”

“Get Joon-hyung to clean it. It’s his room.” He muttered.

“Namjoon isn’t here. Namjoon hasn’t been here since August. That was three months ago and I don’t think this room has been cleaned once since then.” She threw up her hands in exasperation.

He shrugged again, but she saw the muscle in his jaw clench stubbornly.

“Look, Gukkie.” She softened her tone, trying a different tack. “You know Joonie had to go to Seoul for university and the dorms he’s at don’t allow... pets.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a pet!”

“Hybrids then.” She corrected, but his foot thumped against the floor in agitation.

“We’re friends.” He insisted.

“Whatever you want to call yourself, the fact remains that Namjoon couldn’t take you with him.”  She pointed out.