While I Sleep™ • ✓

5: Past

A quick update!
Mainly because I was a bit too excited to publish this chapter.
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The street lights are dim and the aura around him is strange. Oddly strange.

There is a tingle of intricacy inside him, that keeps disturbing him, moving in a looped revolution. 

His black timberlands tick across the ground as he slowly walks. As any other usual day, he is covered from top to bottom with nothing but black clothes.

His head stays hidden under the black hood as he decides to keep his fists inside the pockets of his hoodie.

There is a very heartfelt touch of gloom in his eyes. The corner of his bottom lips is trapped between his incisors as he softly bites them, trying to beat the cold.

His shoulders are dropped and his breath his warm.

He lets out an elongated sigh as his hot breath turns to mist upon having contact with the air outside as it condenses.

The night is foggy and breezes of uncertainty hit him right in the face, as if they be mocking him for the choice he has made.

He has been living with Jimin and Taehyung for a month now and he feels relieved to the core that the other two males have no basic thought about his past.

He is well aware that his new, or rather, only roomates do not have a clue about what he does at night. He knows that neither do they suspect him for any sort of strange behaviour.

At least, he hopes so.

His head does not rise up, not even for a flash of a second. They stay fixed, down, at his timberlands. Because those were the timberlands his hyung had gifted him.

He feels the pain from his past, a lamenting incident that has been haunting him for months now.

The incident that he had gone through, was egregious. That is all his vulnerable self can process. It was all very execrable to him. He had been given the biggest shock when that one particular incident took place.

He still remembers it. Arrant-ly remembers it. He can still feel the physical plus emotional pain that his hyung had caused him.

He also knows that what his fellow friend did back then, was not something he would do intentionally. He knows that those punches weren't from the heart but from compulsion. He knows that those piercing slangs didn't come from the inside but just for the sake of it.

All he has ever wanted, is to find out why? Why that abysmal incident took place. Why those kicks and punches were forced out. Why those forceful slangs were spoken.

He just wants to know.

For someone like him, he is doing a good job.

When he decided to come out and fight his fears, he was heck serious about.

A very titchy smile creeps up to his face as he recalls the day his hyung  brought him those timberlands. But little had he known, that it  was the the very last day he would spend with his hyung.

His feet lead him into an olid alley as he abides to walk ahead.

The alley is ten times more colder than the the city street and there is hardly any light. Just one or two ting little bulbs shine dimly as he walks ahead.

The graffiti sprays which he furtively bought from a nearby illegal  store the other day, stay perfectly placed inside his black colored backpack which hangs from his broad, alluring shoulders.

He strides deeper, right towards the dead end of the alley.

He secretively looks back, cross-checking if there's any figure nearby him, for he knows what he's about to do, is illegal, but it puts him at ease to do so.

ART is not a crime. And it is nowhere written that art can only be performed on paper and not anywhere else. (Art here is referred to drawing.)

If doing something that you're passionate about puts illegal charges in you, then Jungkook, is ready to take all possible charges that can be put on an individual.

He drops his black bag on the ground as he pulls out the red graffiti spray from it. His fingers grip the spray bottle tightly, as he shakes the bottle to blend the color properly.

He heaves one last sigh and starts to paint, the only thing circling his mind: his hyung.

His arms move up, down, left, right; in all possible directions as he puts focus in the masterpiece he makes.

After a good long hour of painting, he shoves his sprays into his back as he swings it over his shoulders.

"Now that's what you call, graffiti." He mumbles to himself, pride filling him as he looks at the design.

He feels proud, not because his work is done perfectly, but because it is a painting of his hyung and him.

*
A/n:
Unedited.
Welp, here's another chapter!
The length of the chapters of this book will vary a lot. I tend to write chapters from 900 to 2000 words max, but here the length will differ. Mainly because I'm a crap writer. I get a lot of writer's blocks and I am not very good with describing a particular situation. My writing is very very basic and direct. So I guess I sometimes end up disappointing my readers. But I am thankful to the people who read my works even though I'm just a starter. Those people make me feel as if I am good, regardless of the fact that I ain't.
Love y'all!
❤️