Taehyung stared at the torn fabric, stretching from his right wrist to elbow. It stung, not the stark red bruise where Jeongguk's zipper had ran across his skin, but the torn cardigan.

His favorite red cardigan.

Taehyung's first and last Christmas gift from his parents. Then he turned too old for them, his father air quoted the next Christmas.

The cardigan looked worn, and true to it's looks it was over-used. Maybe three years ago, in a Christmas fair ogling at the first snow of the month, this cardigan new on his shoulders would've reminded of love. Love that he would've been waiting to confess Jeongguk. A book of hundred confessions.

Now it all felt like a dream, or probably a nightmare. It was getting harder to distinguish the two. Or maybe someone drew the line wrong.

He ran a finger across the ripped intricate woollen stitch, and Jeongguk's annoyance flashed in the split spaces between them. He pushed his glasses back, blinked twice and stabbed the needle into the fabric.

red on red.

Jeongguk's eyes—always filled with the brightest chosen stars from all seven galaxies—only held annoyance for him? Him? Taehyung? The taehyung whom he filled up every fingerbreadth of?

Did Jeongguk not see? Not see the way he looked at him, yearned for him and celebrated every of his happiness like his own? Not see what Park jimin did? Not see what everybody else did? Or was it all on him? Taehyung? Was it him not the one taking the hint? Should he be? Does he want to?

But Taehyung only wanted to love Jeongguk. Even ruthlessly so.

Like when in sixth grade he brought hoodies identical to the ones Jeongguk wore around to school. Even bargained his parents for the expensive ones.

Like when in seventh, he made a diary and called it Jeongguk. And filled Jeongguk in every expanse of it's pages until it was Jeongguk's timberlands, Jeongguk's earrings, Jeongguk's moles, Jeongguk's eyes and just Jeongguk everywhere.

Like in ninth grade, he held his tears back when Jeongguk came out to the school, with his first boyfriend. He was happy, really, but still lied to his sketchbook.

See? Loving Jeongguk was like igniting a fire that he didn't know how to put out. Maybe that's why he kept loving the other. Because he didn't know how he could not. Because he didn't know how Kim Taehyung can be there without his Jeon Jeongguk half. How?

How had he been living when he was in daegu? When there was no Jeongguk? When there was just Kim taehyung? How was he? Gay? Scared? Annoying to people like Jeongguk?

No, no there was only one of him. Only one of the Jeon jeongguk.

But how can the only Jeongguk be annoyed at him? What wrong did he do?
From ink and sketches to nights he had Taehyung crying on his bed, it was never his annoyance that did. So what changed?

Was he thinking too much into this? Probably, because he always seemed to.

It was more than likely that nothing had changed. That nothing could change. And it won't—

Because it couldn't be Jeongguk, to spare him with nothing but his annoyance. To him. To Taehyung.

But, he annoyed himself.

Perhaps it was just him being annoyed at himself? So annoyed, that Jeongguk's eyes had to mirror it? He assumed it might be because the pair of star systems were just elementally honest. Or probably because Taehyung was tired.

Maybe he should sleep on this.Probably finish a few assignments before. And if lucky sketch something (not Jeongguk, preferrebly) and if luckier, then get an hour or two of sleep before school.

Maybe when he wakes up, he won't probably be thinking too much. In fact, he won't be thinking at all, would be drawing a blank instead. Looking at Jeongguk smile at the cafeteria, his laughter chiming bells at his ears. They still do.

It's better he gets some sleep. Yes, it's better to just stop thinking an—

"Tete?" He looked up from his cardigan, still unsewn, and smiled when he saw a poorly tied pigtail suspending between the door frame and the partially open door.

"And why aren't you in your bed?" He raised a brow when she opened the door and stood. One arm holding her koala plushie like an armour and the other a comb. Her comb.

"Because," She carefully drew out the word, making him smile in pride when she pronounced it right. "taeyeonie bad at pigtwails," She explained running a hand over the barely hanging pigtails, a pout settling in.

He pushed the sewing kit aside as she pulled herself up on his bed. Another proud smile making way to his lips when she climbed up without much aid.

He gently removed the rubber band off her tangled locks and pulled his drawer full of colourful clips. He used some when alone, but they were mostly Taehee's, who was now busy inspecting his collection.

He held up a pair and she scrunched her nose in distaste. He held another, and she shook her head frantically. Then another and another. All to vain.

It was an unsaid ritual considering how picky she was with such stuff. Like, to not repeat the ones she wore last week or to not (even by coincidence) show up with the same pair as her rival.

"This! Tete this!" Finally she held one up, a pair of black clips dotted with little sparkly butterflies.

"Okay okay," He chuckled, and it sounded different on his tongue. Not sure, the good or bad kind. "Turn around now"

She faced her back to him, hair falling over her nape. She hummed to a random rhyme he couldn't remember name of or maybe it was just his focus. Dwindling down to Jeongguk. His eyes. His annoyance.

He dragged the comb through her brunette locks, a colour that ran among the kims. The comb in his hand, now almost like a habit, fluidly smoothing her knotted locks.

Then his cracked specs, tinted to translucence, fell on the red book. The one that he hid beneath the drawer to pretend he didn't find it under Jeongguk's shoes. Crushed, trampled over.

How annoying had he gotten to get that far? To tear off pages of the only Jeongguk Taehyung knew? Was he always this annoying? How could Jeongguk not know, that when he hugged the trampled red book to his chest and cried, he had cried for the pages of his love he had lost?

How could Jeongguk not know the one that Taehyung did? The one who atleast let him have his love, even if its in colours and brushes and ink?

"Tete..." He blinked and looked down, and frowned.

"Why are you crying? Did I pull your hair too hard?" He blinked again, and his eyelids felt heavier. It must have hurt her. She was quite sensitive at her scalp, he knew that. And yet, he managed to hurt her, hadn't he?

Anything at his hands, often ends up hurt. Like he always does. Maybe that's why it was better to watch Jeongguk from afar than have his heart secured in his palms. Because, what if he manages to hurt it too?

His can ache enough for both, instead.

He wiped a tear down her cheek and another followed. "Does it hurt too much?" He rubbed the spot he found the comb stuck at, and babbled, "hee hee, tell me where does it hurt? Here? Here? Whe—"

She smoothed a hand on his cheek, and he paused. Blinked. And watched her rub his cheeks. It was then he realised something wet, dripping down his cheeks.

Warm. Wet. Heavy eyelids. Wet lash—

"Did taeyeonie hurt you again?" Another tear slipped down her chin, falling onto her lap. She was busy wiping his to care.

Taeyeon wasn't anything bad. In fact, when they were in daegu, she was the best sister in all of his poor scribblings. She used to read to him every night, play with him, sometimes they sneaked out into the woods, and the other times they were partners in crime for anything that was found broke in the household.

They used to be inseperable.

He smiled bitterly, and shook his head. "No, she didn't," And ran a thumb down her cheek, catching her tears.

"W-why are you- hic- crying?" She hiccuped, lips turning wobbly. And he remembered when he held her for the first time, her cries pausing to analyse his features. All he had back then, and still now, were just a few pimples, oily hair, plethora of acne and uneven eyelids. He didn't what about him made her stop crying, but when she did, she was so pretty. Of the three of them, he concluded, Taehee was the prettiest.

"Because I love someone who doesn't love me back," He whispered.

She drew out truths from him. He could lie to himself, but the hardest would be to lie to her. Particularly when she scrunches her brows to ask, "Lub?"

"Yes, lub," He smiled, so fluently, that it almost surprised him.

"What's that?" Had he mentioned that she was curious? She had so many questions to ask. Like why was the sky blue? Where does the sun go? How can the bees sing? Why can't we fly? And now what is love.

It was Jeongguk. At least to Taehyung, it was Jeongguk.

"Love is," He drawled, and wondered how to explain Jeongguk. He pondered, where to begin. His moles? His eyes? His pale skin? His pitch black locks? His smile? His dimples? His cologne?

She tugged at his shirt, pulling him out of his mind. Out of Jeongguk. "What is lub?" She prodded, and a few tears on her cheeks shone under the dim lighting of the room. He wiped them clear, "Why did you cry?"

"B-becose you cry," She jutted her lips out, and he smiled fondly. "That's love"

"Huh?" She tilted her head to the side.

"grow up quick," Taehyung hoped she wouldn't, "then you'll know what it means" He ruffled her locks.

"I'm already a big girl," She puffed her chest out, cheeks baking up.

"Yes you are," He chuckled, tickling her sides, "now go sleep, it's close to two already "

She stayed still on his lap. He didn't notice when she had limbed up there, didn't mind either.

He pulled the red book out, ran a tentative palm over it's worn bound. After all it's just Jeongguk, right?

Right.

He tucked the book into the drawer, beneath the collection of clips. Better. And when he felt his lap warm, and slightly heavy, he finally noticed Taehee snuggled cozily in there. Chest rising and falling into short breaths and a limp thumb stuck into her mouth. And of course drool dribbling from one end of her chin.

"Hee hee," He called out, gently tucking a lock behind her ear. He wiped the drool off her chin, and pulled her off his lap. But she protested, lips turning wobbly. Her eyes fluttered open, and when met with his, she frantically held his shirt collar. "Tete te-tete—"

"Hush hush," He tucked her in his bed and when a small soft and warm palm enveloped his pinky, he removed his glasses.

And Taehyung knew he'll sleep well that night.

_____________

A/n:

bye