❝You taste like oranges❞
A boy with a peculiar obsession, an illness that ivolves around him and his sudden urge to eat, or taste, oranges.
A girl with a challenging heart and a curious mind, who's nothing less than complicated, and so is he, tho...
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Sora
My feelings were in a knot.
They were uncomprehensive, tangled in a gordian mess which heightened my uncertainty. The essense of sadness was evident, and not just in my steady heart; I was slumped over in my favourite wooden chair placed infront of my bedroom window, a depressive expression painted on my shadowed features. There had been happiness before, a profound glow, but with Jungkook gone and away what had boosted my mood had too, resulted to it's diminishment. Once his strong aura faded, I found myself in a qualm. This nagging doubt that something was coming, that I shouldn't take anything with a calm. That there was a storm about to rain over us, and yet I chose not to see the dark clouds that were hanging above my head even with my warned intuition.
My thoughts had been hard to read, but sitting in the quiet of my own home they started to align, seperate and I was able to examine them with ease. Well, as much as one could have driving into sentiments they'd been avoiding the existence of. Come what may, when Jungkook had everything but dissapeared, I still couldn't hate him, nor was I really angry at him. It was anger for not keeping him close, and I started to reconsider my life down to it's tiniest detail.
And I didn't want to admit it, but I'd have to, soon. There would come a time where I'd have to let it slip to keep him close, and whether it scared me or not, there was no other I'd want it to be.
Jeon Jungkook; he was precisely the man he'd promised me he was. He was daring, mysterious, and gentle, and despite having the charms of a teenage bad boy, he had a heart made of shimmering gold, and there was not a single mix best suited to a man. He'd proven his worth each time. He would mend and tend to, just like I did. And whenever he saw me break he'd hug me tight so that my pieces would pop back in. When I looked in the mirror to see one, he'd walk behind me, snake his arms around my waist and place his head on my shoulder. He would tell me he loved me everytime, and I would remain tranquil, but my insides would be burning up in flames, and looking at the way his features glowed when he smiled I assured myself that there was no place I'd rather be than in his arms. If Jungkook were to be my new family, then perhaps I'd live a happy life. I liked the picture I saw in the mirror.
That was it. That thought. The single moment in time when I realised I'd gotten it all wrong. I didn't have to wait, he knew it. All the uncertainty that had haunted us, it was exactly like my hesitance. I was sure about it, with every inch of my being, yet I couldn't speak it out loud. It wasn't Jungkook's fault though, it was the constant feel that resided in me that what followed a single string of words was always destructive. I'd survived it, but there was hope that if I didn't speak it I would get to live my life a little longer, with a beautiful boy whom I was, no dubiety, in love with.
I was in love with him.
Admitting it was weird. I'd let go of a part of me I was holding onto for dear life, and yet, I should have let go long ago. It wasn't something I wanted to characterise me, especially if I lost him because of it. My mistrust, my hesitance, all results of scaring past experiences were to be erased. Jungkook wasn't like the others, and together were most definetely one of a kind. We were tainted, but alike were were pure. He loved me, and I loved him. It was as simple as that. When they said love was complicated, they hadn't known about us.
