[.第三.]

Syria 2019 January 11

He stood there in the darkness, it had become his protective arm, holding him close until the promised dawn. Within it he was a child once more, safe in shields of a duvet.

Yet in this place so open to the skies, resting in the cricket's lullaby, his eyes were as glassy as the constellations above; tears screeching their way down his face as he gave out slow wracking sobs.

Very confusing use of words? I know. Sadly that's exactly how it is, truth to be told, his life had been sprained into one big quandary now.

His hair was silky, almost velvety at the touch. The cold snowy wind blew through each strand of it contorting it into a disheveled mess. The impact of the outrageous gale ended up tangling both his light auburn curls and thoughts up.

It was clear yet so unclear.

He never needed any other light other than the one his flames produce except when he reached out to the very sun itself.

Despite this, his sharp smile doesn't fade as he traces his finger along the metal railing. A smile creeping its way along his face, bright sharp white teeth, too sharp as it glinted under the silvery moonlight.

His eyes are wide, panicked as he thinks the situation over and over again to himself.

He has never been able to push aside his responsibilities in his life. It's always been his weight to bear and he can almost convince himself he likes it.

Those unplanned pleasant memories seared themselves under his eyelids. Every time he blinks, he sees the curl of Jimin's smile radiating his face reaching to his pretty blue eyes, the rosy fingers of his leaning down to pick Jungkook up, the sharp words that roll their way out of his kissable cherry lips, the defeat in Yoongi's shoulders, Namjoon's hands gripping the table.

The moment when all of them are dragged into it, it'll be 7 against the entire team of his.

Jungkook shivered as he took a drag of his cigarette resting it between his lips, before exhaling, the curling into the snow drifted night air, leaning on the railing of the balcony as his eyelids shut close only to open and further cast his hollow sight down onto the thriving city below.

It's the eve of Christmas.

As always ,he didn't expect his mundane self to be celebrating it . Just staying alone in his apartment, drinking bottles of Soju with some Jjajangmyeon would be something he'd expect himself to be doing .

Not like he'd been given options to choose the freedom of merry laughter and cakes for himself either .The army never spared holidays for such leisure times .

In his little flame of life, discipline and sacrifice were a key pointer .With great power comes responsibility ,at the hilt of which sentiment plays no role . "Mind before heart" were the lines each soul present there lived by and engulfed themselves into .

The mantra was roped at the tip of each one's tongue , it's effects seen in their combat abilities and skills that bloomed by each passing day .It held the weight of a feather or Betelgeuse . It all came down to one thing ; who agreed with it and who denied it .

A blow of hot air from his lips adjusted itself among the cold snowy dew . Surprise interlinked with confusion and perplexity painting his face as he loosened his neck joints ,the bones and ligaments in his neck cracking with a muffled "pop " as the pressure lodged between them were softened.

His veins protruded ,boiling blood flowing gently through it under his skin . Back in the day he would come after the 40 km endurance test and cry himself to sleep. Afraid ,he was too afraid of losing his sanity just yet .

It's hard not to feel sick

He's exhausted and tired and truth to be told ,he hadn't been able to muster the courage to follow up ,after what he called the incident. No incident is bad news that's what he'd like to tell himself.

This time he didn't want to lose it

He notices the dark blanket of clouds above him that is so at odds with his own lifestyle that it's charming now. He catches a whiff of wet sand , so typical during the rainy days at Korea . There are inky black stones along the road , flowers stretching further beyond.

There were days when the young man's heart would sink ,while the cruel ,unceasing drowsiness overtook him .He was so done with being forcefully sleep deprived . All of them were only kept at mercy of 2 hours of bed time during field training.

He couldn't retort back at them even .They were intentionally tested beyond their physical limits and mental fears .There was no denying that Jeon had researched on these lines before signing in the special unit form entries .

The drive to his hustle was his grandma's only words. Somehow ,it always managed to spring up that tattered spirit in him while burning him down just a bit. But that wasn't important ,it didn't matter .

"Jeon , keep the fire your father kindled alive .The Jeon's should have absolutely no reason to have their heads lowered in shame . You must assure me of that ."

Those days of suffering were still afresh in his mind .Never in his life had the boy expected that he'd be exerting himself to this level . Despite having gotten a severe clavicle sprain injury on his right shoulder ,he had nimbly agreed to go on the crazy endurance test.

The young boy was made to shoulder great responsibility at a very paralyzed young age, all at mercy of his uncle's destructive habits. Everyone knew of it ,yet everyone pretended like he wasn't supposed to have any emotions whatsoever concerning it.

Back in the army ,he and Jimin were made to toil for their dream to bloom. There was no time limit for their efforts .

As pathetic as it sounded ,Jimin was the engine to his drive and the mundanity of his companionship relaxed him. It prevented him from being stuck in his own head .

At that time , Jimin and Jungkook were nothing but mere acquaintances partnered to train together ,nothing more . Both were a striking pair, proving themselves better than the rest at each skill . Coordination between those two was minutely effortless.

A single hesitation in doing anything that the trainees were commanded , whether it be jumping off mountains or diving in turbulent waters got them running 25 km uphill with weights on under strict mentor supervision.

All under a laborious time limit of three hours.

It was what he chose to become after all .How strong had he become though ?

His lips enclosed around the drug inhaling it once again as he let the smoke burn all the way to the back of his throat .He leaned back ,his head touching the wall , pushing a strand of his hair back before blowing out the the whiff of smoke ,some coming out of his nose and the rest outta his mouth .

It's a joyous day

He's supposed to be celebrating , baking gooey cookies and shit .Buying little presents should be getting a smile to his lips .Maybe he could shoot some heads down just for the fun of it.

Nonsense

The mere thought of him doing such things even made his nose wrinkle in disgust.

Not like he hated Christmas. It's just that he never had suffice reasons or motive to celebrate and then again he wasn't the bouncy kind either . With a sigh he tapped off the end of the cigar and took another slow drag , letting the toxic fumes fill his lungs until he exhaled again - drinking in the scent .

It was the same brand his dad smoked and the nostalgia of all those days was comforting . Smoking it finally got him feeling like he was resting under the softest of silks after a heavy day full of toiling, interweaved with endless hours of hustle.

Sparks of him slapping his dad's thigh seared past his chain of thoughts .Both father and son would bicker as they flicked through cheesy dramas intentionally .Memories of him mocking at how sentimental and cliche some of the Karama's were drifted along . A small almost un- noticeable smile flickered across his face as he scratched the nape of his neck .

Lovely days .

Hah ! They would even Imitate some of the cringey scenes . Little Jeon's eyes would twinkle as he snacked on the warm delicious puff pastries his dad would bake for him .All crispy , browned to perfection and flaky .

Pure bliss .Instant jealousy over his past overtook him .

-漫~*'¨¯¨'*·舞~ ~舞*'¨¯¨'*·~漫-

Korea 2018 August 15

Yoongi turned the corner only to find Namjoon crouching, dressed head to toe in black, "What are you doing?"

Namjoon waved frantically for Yoongi to be quiet and for him to crouch down. As Yoongi walked around the corner he leaned against the wall, looking Namjoon up and down skeptically. Namjoon slid one leg out behind him for balance as he leaned around the corner, holding up a laser tag gun, "No one was following you?"

"No. I don't usually ask twice but what are you doing?"

"I'm on a mission."

"A... mission?"

"There's ice cream in Koeing's fridge, I can't let Simmons get to it first."

"I'm going to regret this, but explain how that is a mission."

Namjoon pulled back around the corner and sat down, gesturing for Yoongi to do the same. The team had been hiding out in the Playground for hours now trying to get a clear picture of how deep Jin ran. He had been training with Yoongi daily. As in all day.

"Also, you're late."

"Can't we just call this training for this afternoon? I'm working on counter-espionage skills and stealth and -"

"Fine, explain the mission." he requested a mischievous glint in his eyes .

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Was this chapter crazy writing?Yes
Would I consider it timeless?Hell yeah
N

ot proofread