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26
My Home

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JISOO

I wake up to the sound of myself crying.

Where am I? I only know that I'm on the ground, an icy tile floor to be exact, and my body aches with soreness as I sit up. I hear faint sobs that sound like mine, but I'm not the one crying. Then, my surroundings sink in.

My old house.

The polished, waxed floors with tauntingly tall, white walls that seem to loom over me everywhere I go are unmistakable. And those sobs—I follow them to a door that also seems alarmingly familiar. It's my parents' bedroom.

I then realize that it's not only me who is crying, but Jungkook too. Precisely, five year old Jungkook. When I try to open the door, my hand phases through. What's going on? My mind is foggy and my senses are numbed, but somehow, it doesn't phase me that much. I walk straight through the door.

It's me. I must be about eight or nine, and beside me is Jungkook, who's even smaller than me.

My hair is disheveled, and a bright red mark is imprinted onto the side of my face. Little Jungkook, significantly shorter, is clutching onto my torso with all his might.

"Hey...stop crying already," Little Me urges, "Mom and Dad might hear us."

Little Jungkook's sobs quiet down, though his breathing is still shaky. "Is what they said true? Are they splitting up because of me?"

I watch as our little selves pull into an embrace. "Of course not! They are humans, and make mistakes just like we do. It's like when you broke Mom's favorite plate." Little Me explains.

"I didn't mean to do that."

I chuckle at Little Jungkook's grumble with my younger self. "Exactly, they didn't mean to say that about you either."

"And they didn't mean to hit you?"

Little Me simply hugs her younger brother. With the cheeriest voice she can muster, she answers, "Of course not! Mom and Dad love us. They wouldn't hurt us."

But despite the high-pitched, happy-go-lucky tone, I see myself struggle to hold back tears.

"Then why are they taking you away from me?"

"We're just going to take a quick trip away from each other. Even if you're Jeon Jungkook and I'm Kim Jisoo, at the end of the day, we'll still be brother and sister."

"You're the best big sister ever," Jungkook sighs into the hug, burying his face in my hair.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion rushes over me. This moment is ingrained in my head as the time I decided to sacrifice it all for Jungkook. It was then that I promised to do anything I could to protect him. Our parents were splitting up, and at the time I thought that we wouldn't see each other very often anymore, so I wanted to solidify the fact that I'd always be here for him no matter how far we're apart.

Luckily—or unluckily—our parents decided to abandon us altogether, leaving us in the care of our less than kid-friendly aunt, who left us to ourselves as much as possible. While that made us closer, it obviously sucked to rarely have a parent figure around.

The vision of my younger self and Jungkook starts to blur, fading into darkness as I become aware of my senses again. My ears ring, but their pain is overshadowed by the excruciating burn of my skin.

I close my eyes, hoping that by shutting out one of my senses, I can ease the pain of the others. It only barely works.

___

Wind rushes past my face as I lift my eyelids.

Taehyung is kissing me.

His tan, dewy skin almost seems to glow. His eyes are pressed shut in concentration, though I can only see so much of his face when it's pressed up against mine. And his lips—oh gosh his lips. They're so incredibly soft and distracting that I nearly miss how we're standing on the edge of a rooftop.

How the fuck did we get here?

He pulls away, flustered, while I'm still blinking in surprise. It's then that I feel my cheeks heat up too. Our breathing is in sync, both of us panting for air.

"Hi?" I meekly offer.

His ruddy face melts into one of relief, before pulling me into a hug so tight I almost lose my breath again. He was kissing me. We kissed. Oh my god.

"You're back," he sighs. "You're here."

My hands shake as I try to clasp them around his shoulders. I'm here. I lost consciousness for a bit, but I don't remember what happened in that dream; all I remember is that I felt incredibly pained. What happened? Why was Taehyung kissing me?

Jungkook was trying to taint me, but where is he now? The fleeting excitement from kissing Taehyung dissipates.

"Jisoo!" A panicked voice calls out from behind us.

Jungkook stands there, blood dripping down his forearm from a nasty wound that he definitely got from snagging out his IV. Sweat lines his face, a foreign yet familiar sight since I used to see him sweating all the time when he was still a soccer enthusiast in 6th grade. He's panting, crying, and shaking.

I've never seen him like this before.

"Jisoo." He looks as if he can't believe he's seeing me. "I almost lost you," he whispers, frantically wiping tears off his face.

I barely know how to breathe.

As the memories of him revealing that he's The Sender come rushing back, so do memories of the years I spent taking care of him.

This stupid little boy. He's so fucking dumb, but I'm even dumber for loving him so much. Taehyung doesn't do anything as I take shaky steps towards a sobbing Jungkook. It's heartbreaking and conflicting at the same time. I can't fully process anything anymore, but I know that I want to hate him.

"Fuck you!" I scream, fists plummeting violent punches to his chest. "You're the worst! Why would you do this to me?"

"Jisoo, I—"

"How long have you known about me being RC? What are you trying to accomplish? Why, why, why?" My broken sobs are muffled by his chest. He takes a moment before answering.

"I've known since I've tried the rice cakes. And whenever I mentioned the teen superheroes you always asked how I knew instead of actually talking about them."

I let my guard down around him. Of course, the only person that I could trust in the entire world ended up being the one who would betray me. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He breathes in shakily. "And for what I was trying to accomplish...I don't know. I just wanted us to be happier and I thought that making the standard of happiness lower would do the trick. I'm sorry."

He wraps his filthy arms around me, but I can't find the energy to push him away.

"Don't fucking apologize to me." At this point, I've given up on physically hurting him. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

Jungkook shivers in my arms, likely from climbing up the stairs and running out of breath. He's not supposed to do that. He's not supposed to tear off his IV either. He just got out of surgery, god dammit.

Am I also a bad person for caring so much for someone who's evil?

Panic arises in me when I notice his breathing getting sharper.

"Jungkook?" I ask, my own voice shaking.

He doesn't reply.

Instead, he simply stares at me, eyes overflowing with tears and lips stretched out into a bittersweet smile. He's scanning my every feature as if trying to ingrain them in his head.

I unconsciously do the same. The scar on his left cheek from falling off the couch when we were fighting over the remote. The angled crease of his eyes from when he smiles. The mole under his lower lip, now crusting with dryness. That's my brother—not an evil monster... right?

With a shallow breath, he leans down and tightens his hold, letting warmth collapse upon me. He cries a broken whisper onto my shoulders, one so quiet that it's more like an unintelligible sob.

"You're the best big sister ever."

A few long seconds pass, and the wind bites my exposed skin; it's cold compared to the hot tears boiling in my eyes. His weight seems to get heavier and his breathing doesn't steady itself.

Instead, it comes to a complete stop.

He drops.

My grasp on him is too loose to hold him up, and before I know it, he's sprawled on the ground at my feet.

I can't feel anything.

I make out the sounds of Taehyung rushing over, something about him going to get a doctor, and something about Jungkook frothing at the mouth. I don't know what's going on.

I don't want to know.

"Jungkook." I don't recognize my own voice because it's so broken. "Jungkook!"

I clutch onto his body, crouched on the ground and holding his head close to my chest. A searing pain darts through me as an overwhelming inability to breathe takes over. This can't be happening, right? It can't end like this.

I haven't prepared for this yet. I haven't ever prepared at all. I can't do this. I can't do anything without him.

A team of three—no four—nurses come up the stairs with a stretcher; they push me out of the way and I think one of them asks me if I'm okay but I don't reply because all I see is Jungkook's face as he is getting lifted.

It's pale.

There's foam at his mouth and his lips are a sickening blue. The splotchy blood from his arms leaves stains all over his shirt and face from when he fell down. I don't want to see...but I can't look away.

No no no no. This is not happening. He's not about to—no. He's not.

Again, I don't know what to feel but I'm crying again. Why am I crying?

Everything will be fine and he's going to be okay.

Please.

Where am I now? My feet have carried me down the stairs and through the halls of the hospital. I'm following Jungkook and the nurses but  I don't know where we're headed.

This stupid combination of stimuli always gets to me. White walls. The smell of antiseptics. Jungkook. I hate it so much.

A nurse comes up to me and asks me to leave. "Miss, I'm sorry but we need to have as much space as possible."

Suddenly, I'm being pushed away from Jungkook again. His figure gets smaller as people dash around him.

"Since when did he have access to all these sleeping pills?

"Sleeping pills?! Where is Dr. Jung?"

"He left two hours ago! I heard he just finished a major surgery with this patient."

"Code blue. Code blue in room 201," the intercom speaks monotonously.

The blur of conversation is just background noise in my head. The only thing—the only person I have my focus on is Jungkook. As people crowd him with a bunch of medical devices, I see that he's been hooked up to the monitor and his heartbeat is barely there. His lung surgery happened not long ago too. He's weak, but he has to make it.

Please.

It's been approximately four and a half minutes since he was in my arms.

Sobbing. Shaking. Alive.

But when the heart monitor goes flat—

The heart monitor...

"Jisoo," Taehyung's deep, velvety voice echoes from behind me. "Look at me."

I don't look at him. I look at the lifeless, colorless body that's only a few feet away from me. Doctors and nurses let out audible grunts of frustration, before turning to me in sympathy. For what? Jungkook isn't dead.

He can't be.

Jungkook is The Sender.

He's an evil, wicked, and messed-up guy who tortures other people for his own satisfaction. He tried to do that to me too. He wants others to suffer. He's ruthless, ruthless, ruthless.

But...he's still the kid I stood in front of as our parents brought out the whip.

He's the boy who would make Instagram accounts under my name to help me make friends.

He's the person who would carry around a stick of concealer so that I could never find out when he cried.

He's my little brother—my home.

And now, he's gone.

TAEHYUNG

February 14th

It's been a week since Jungkook passed away and since I've seen Jisoo.

She hasn't been in school this week, and the last time I saw her was at the hospital. She ran away after they pronounced that Jungkook was dead and all I could fucking do was watch. Namjoon stopped me from going after her, telling me that she needed space.

By the time that I had wrestled through his hold, I already lost Jisoo in the hallways.

And so, that's how a week passed by. Jisoo's not at her apartment, and she hasn't been answering my calls. I don't know what's going on. I want to see her—to be with her—since she doesn't have anyone. Not anymore.

The bell rings, but I can't find the energy to get out of my seat. Where could she be? Is she doing okay?

The only person I would've talked to about this is gone.

Yoongi disappeared.

After I came home, I begged and cried for two hours for him to poof back into existence, but he was nowhere to be found. And that left me with one conclusion: I used the wish to untaint Jisoo. That's the only logical explanation I could come up with. Since RC, or Jisoo, told me that to make a wish I just had to consciously know that it was possible to make one, that's what I did.

I used my wish to save her, but now I can't even find her anywhere.

"Dude, you look like a fucking ghost. Is your girlfriend being out sick on Valentine's bothering you that much?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jimin."

He recoils, flinching at my tone of voice. Jimin sighs and takes a seat in front of me.

"Sorry," he says softly. "I thought it would lighten the mood."

"It's fine," I grit, immensely annoyed, but not necessarily at him. "I've just been in a rough place recently."

Jimin scoots closer, sitting backwards in his chair. "I know it's kinda hard for us boys to talk about feelings or whatever, but fuck toxic masculinity. You wanna just sit and cry together? I think I just failed my chemistry exam."

His eyes are genuinely tearing up, and that actually elicits laughter from me. Usually I tutor him, so I know how bad he is at the subject.

"Crying together sounds nice," I laugh, though albeit dryly, and let out a huge sigh. Jimin is a good friend. "I'm just worried about her."

"Is she really really sick?"

"Something like that." A run a hand through my oily, unwashed hair. "I haven't seen her all week."

At this, Jimin straightens his back, alarmed. "What? You haven't seen her all week?"

I nod.

"Dude! It's Valentine's Day! You gotta do something for her. Do you have anything planned?"

I shake my head.

He grunts in frustration. "Okay, I have no idea what's going on in that head of yours, but no matter how sick she is, she's going to love a Valentine's present. And because I am the best friend ever, I'm going to help you plan it."

I stare at him, jaw wide open. Jimin is persistent when determined, and that look in his eyes tells me that there's no going back. But, will Jisoo even want to see me? What if she hates me for kissing her? Fuck—I didn't even ask for consent! She probably hates me!

"I just called Sungjae; he's gonna meet us at the mall after he finishes hanging out with Joy," Jimin explains, grabbing my bag for me and heading to the door. "Let's go!"

"I don't know about this," I reveal my hesitancy. "What if she doesn't like it?"

"She's gonna love it, trust me." Jimin senses that I'm still on edge, sighing softly. "And even if she doesn't, it's better to show her that you care about her than doing nothing, right?"

I take a moment to think. He's right. If she doesn't like it, at least she knows that I still care—that I want to be there for her. What's the worst that could happen?

"Okay," I say, "Let's go."

"That's my boy."

___

"I'm telling you, you're gonna need these."

"No, I will not." I firmly refuse the condoms that Sungjae is handing me.

"C'mon man, you might as well be safe than sorry." He wiggles his eyebrows, and Jimin laughs heartily in the back.

"We only had our first kiss last week," I grumble. I don't even know if she liked it.

He relents, but not without pouting and rolling his eyes. The three of us have been at the mall for two hours, and nothing strikes me as a present Jisoo would like.

I already got her flowers last time, so if I do it again, she'd just be overwhelmed with taking care of them. I'd get her food, but I don't even know what she likes to eat! A card would be nice, but what if she thinks it's corny—

"Taehyung, it's already six-o-clock. Is there really nothing you can think of?"

"Nothing." I frown at my best friend. "Are you still on for that crying sesh?"

Sungjae chuckles, "What about singing her something? Joy loves that stuff," he suggests, "You have a pretty nice voice too."

"Holy shit, that's a good idea." Jimin slaps my back. "You should totally do that!"

My eyes widen. That is a pretty good idea. But I've never been too confident in my singing; I don't know if I can pull it off.

"You want us to help you choose a song?" Sungjae is already scrolling through his playlist of sappy love ballads. "The most important part is the lyrics. Really make sure that they speak to her."

The lyrics...of course!

I know exactly what I'm going to do. It isn't singing, but I personally think she'd appreciate this more.

"Guys, can you do me a favor?" I ask, cutting off Sungjae's ramble about internal rhymes. The two of them nod curiously, sensing my excitement. I whisper in their ears what I'm planning, and their eyes light up.

Maybe the present is a bit risky—I don't even know if she'll be home tonight—but again, what's the worst that could happen?

___

"Mouth spray?" Sungjae and Jimin ask in unison.

"Check."

"The super special secret present?"

"Check."

"Confidence?"

"...check?"

They both shake their heads in disapproval. "One more time," Jimin starts.

"Confidence?" They both ask again, and this time I take a huge gulp of air to swallow my trepidation.

I can do this. Jisoo likes me, and I like her. I don't think that fact has changed, even if she might not be in the mood to talk to me right now. I just want her to know that I'm here for her, and that I see her worth. I miss her.

"Check!" I yell, grinning as my two friends burst into supportive laughter, patting my back and chanting words of encouragement.

They bid their goodbyes after dropping me off a block away from her apartment. It's already late into the night, so if she's not home then I'm fucking screwed. Worst case scenario, I'll just leave the present at her doorstep.

But there's no time to be pessimistic now. I got this.

"Young man!"

I turn to the voice calling, unsure if the person is directing it to me or not. The woman waves and smiles, beckoning me to come to her. I do, and recognize her as the lady Jisoo worked with at the animal shelter.

"Mrs. Cho?"

"Yes, yes, that's me! You're her boyfriend, right?" She beams at me, while I awkwardly cough. "Anyways, I haven't been seeing Jisoo around lately; do you know where she is?"

"Um...I'm not so sure, but—"

She gasps, cutting me off. "Oh my, is that present for her?"

"Oh yeah," I laugh, holding up the baby pink gift bag for her to see. "But I actually don't know where—"

"That's so lovely! I almost forgot it was Valentine's Day!" Mrs. Cho swoons, and then turns around all the sudden. "I'll be right back. Stay here."

I blink a few times, confused by her command. A few moments later, she returns with a cat. Dude, to be exact.

"My dear Jisoo left her with me a few days ago, but I haven't been able to reach out to her. Since you're on the way to see her, do you mind also giving this precious one back?"

"Uh, I..." I struggle to find a way to refuse; after all, if I can't find her then I'll have to bring Dude back here again.

"Wonderful!" She replies too quickly for me to decline. "Have an amazing night, young man!"

"Wait! But I don't even know—" Mrs. Cho already sprints away, hopping around energetically despite being a mother in her late forties. "—where she is," I sigh to myself.

Welp. I guess that just makes finding her tonight all the more important.

JISOO

There are not many reasons I can think of that explain why Kim Taehyung is asleep on the floor in front of my apartment.

However, my brain comes up with a gazillion different ways I can approach the situation. Do I wake him up by tapping his shoulder, or calling his name? Should I invite him inside, or should I run away and avoid him like I have been doing for the past week?

I haven't seen him up close since...that day.

There's only so much vulnerability I can take. Even though he's been with me through so much, I can't find the courage to face him anymore. It's so hard to even get up these days. My mind has been Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. And when it isn't that, it's Taehyung, which sends my emotions into mayhem, too.

It boggles my mind how Taehyung has been coming to my apartment after school just to see if I'm there. Truthfully, I've been in and out of this place a lot. My aunt is arriving in town soon, so I've been trying to move my stuff to her old condo on the other side of town. I'll be staying there from now on.

But still, how does he come back each time? Isn't he tired of me now? I'm scared. I don't want to trust anyone anymore. Every time I think I can trust someone, it doesn't end up working out.

Even my brother—the only person I placed all of my energy into  throughout my whole life—was someone I couldn't trust.

Taehyung's tan skin still somehow glints with warmth under the dim lighting of the moon. His chest peacefully rises and falls, and despite being curled up on the cold, hard floor, he looks cuddly. In a very Taehyung-esque fashion, he hugs a pink gift bag with both arms, leaning against the doorframe.

It's crazy how much I've fallen for him. In all honesty, it started out as simple, small observations about his character that felt like magnetic forces; the more I noticed, the more I wanted to know—to be with him. Then suddenly, when the idea of not having him surfaced my mind, the realization that I love him hit me with full power.

It's almost frustrating how he's sleeping on the ground so peacefully, so excruciatingly unaware that my world has shifted on its axis.

And somehow, that shift obscures the pain I've been experiencing so vividly this past week, even if it's just for a second.

I don't want to avoid him. I don't want to leave him. But at the same time, the idea of letting myself trust again is all too taunting for comfort. I swallow my nerves and make the effort to turn away, when his raspy voice bursts into the air.

"Jisoo?"

Hesitantly, I turn around.  "Hey."

"You're here." His eyes sparkle with disbelief.

"Yeah," I reply curtly, "But um, I have to go soon, so I'll be—"

"Wait!"  He grabs my wrist before I can turn around. "Please don't go. Not yet. We have a lot to talk about and I need to give you something."

I look at his pleading eyes for no longer than a millisecond, and give in, facing him again. This isn't letting him in, right? It'll be quick, and then I can go.

"Okay."

Taehyung sighs, smiling lightly. "For you." He hands me the gift bag. "You don't need to open it yet, but I hope that you like it when you do."

I take the present with tentative hands. My curiosity is burning, but I don't dare to open it in front of him. "Thank you."

A heavy silence fills the air, before he suddenly gasps. "Oh my gosh! I need to give you Dude as well!"

Dude...my cat! I was supposed to pick her up from Mrs. Cho's last week!

"Mrs. Cho stopped me along the way and told me to give Dude back but I fell asleep and I don't know where she went!" He frantically flails around. "I can buy you a new cat!  Not to say that Dude can be replaced, because she can't, but in case you still want a cat I can do that but honestly that's kind of rude to Dude but I'm just really nervous right now and I'm so sorry!"

His panicked and frazzled state is something I will never not find endearing. I chuckle, cutting off his ramble.

"It's okay," I smile, "We'll find her, and if not, I'm sure she'll find us."

Truthfully, I'm not sure how I'm so calm. Maybe it's because my world has been falling apart recently, so this issue seems minute in comparison.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? It's also my fault for forgetting about her."

"What about in general? Is there really nothing that you're mad at me for?"

I pause for a second, curious to where this question is coming from. He can't possibly think that I've been avoiding him because I'm mad at him.

"...No?"

"So..." He fidgets with his hands, shifting weight from foot to foot. "The kiss was okay?"

A belly-flipping sensation. Red cheeks. Stuff I haven't felt in what seems like forever. I can barely look at his equally flustered state.

"It's okay if it wasn't!" he quickly adds.

Inhale. "It was good." Exhale. "Really good." I gather the courage to look him in the eye. "I'm not mad."

His face melts into one of relief. It feels like a pink-ish atmosphere floats around us. Though my senses are numb from grief, I can't help feeling lost in waves of intense emotion. I miss him.

He seems to hesitate asking his next question again, though this time it's more out of fear than bashment.

"Can I ask why you've been gone recently? You know that I'm here for you, right?"

Immediately, the pink-ish atmosphere dissolves. I've been gone because it hurts to see him. It's hard to fight myself. All I want to do is run into his arms and cry, but the fear of being betrayed overpowers my desire to trust.

"Yeah, it's just—I can't..." I trail off, tears pricking my eyes.

No. I can't cry here. Not anymore. Stop, stop, stop.

"No, it's okay, sorry for asking," he apologizes, with worry lacing his gaze.  "Just let me know when you need someone or when you're ready—"

"No."

"Just take your time—what?"

"No, I won't. I'm sorry but I can't...I can't do that." I avert my eyes away from him, unable to bear the sight of him being hurt by my words. "Please leave."

"Jisoo, what are you talking about?"

"Go." I have to do this. "Just leave, please. I can't look at you." At the last moment, my voice betrays me, cracking into a weak plea instead of a firm order.

Several seconds pass by, before I hear his soft footsteps pitter-pattering away.

My fists are clenched tight, and my eyes sting from being shut so hard to fight my tears. I miss him. I want to be with him.

When the silence is too loud, I dig my hands into the gift bag, the rustling of the tissue paper filling the air. It's an envelope. I almost crinkle it but flatten it out before too much damage happens.

A sticky note is slapped onto the top, and his messy handwriting decorates it.

hi jisoo,

jimin and sungjae helped me convince our english teacher to give me my essay early. this is the one that you haven't proofread yet. happy valentine's! i care about you. <3

Already, that sharp sensation claws up my throat again. I slowly take the paper out of the envelope, and immediately start reading. Everything looks pretty much the same as the one I already read, but the conclusion paragraph looks drastically different.

So, despite the numerous metaphorical homes that Jisoo may have, I think that her true home is never stagnant. Whether it's her apartment or her brother, her home is simply where she wants to be; that's always susceptible to change. In conclusion, I'm not sure who or where her home is exactly, but I hope that one day, it'll be me.

He wants to be my home?

Somewhere I feel safe, happy, vulnerable...he wants that too?

My hands start shaking. What if I just gave in? What if, despite my uncontrollable fear, I let myself trust him?

Should I do that?

My mind battles itself, but before I can finally decide to wipe my tears and trudge inside, a meow from the corner catches me off guard.

I turn around, and find Dude purring at the corner.

"Hey, dude," I sniffle, reaching out to her."Thought I'd lose you too," I joke bitterly.

But before I can pick her up, she aggressively meows, and twists her head in the opposite direction. She keeps meowing, as if trying to tell me something.

Then, I realize that she's telling me to go get Taehyung.

Her eyes are narrowed sternly, meowing with confidence that somehow translates into my own.

I want him. I want to be with him.

So, despite every single cell in my body that's crumbling with fear, I run.

I trip over my shoelaces a few times but I don't lose haste, pushing forward without catching my breath.

My lungs burn, but the thought of being with him keeps me going with relentless energy.

My desperate running is stopped when I crash into a back, and I rush to apologize before I realize it's who I'm looking for.

Taehyung.

His eyes are pooling with tears, and his nose is red, though I doubt it's from the cold. He's been crying too.

"Jisoo?" he whispers breathlessly. "You okay?"

Of course, he always checks up on me first even when I say horrible things to him.

My mouth rejects my desire to talk—to tell him that I miss him and that I want him to be my home too. I can only manage crying, but silently, as I'm so lost in my thoughts of how I can convey my feelings to him.

He watches me patiently, never losing eye contact. The night is cold and insanely dark, although the shimmering moon above us illuminates his face just enough for me to see his longing expression. Is he feeling what I'm feeling?

I shut my eyes, and slowly count down from ten in my head. I want to thank him, apologize to him, hug him, and kiss him. How much of that can I express? I'm not sure. But since I can't speak right now, I do the next best thing.

Ten seconds.

From nine to four seconds, nothing happens.

At three seconds, his breath hits my skin.

At two seconds, his tentative lips feather against mine.

At one second, we're kissing, and I've never felt lighter.

When we part, I pluck the courage to look him in the eye, and I'm immediately mesmerized by how caring his gaze is. Before I can say anything, he quickly wraps his arms around me, encasing me in warmth.

"I understand," he mumbles into my hair, taking a deep breath, "I'm here."

His words tickle my ears, and also trigger the release of a tempestuous wave of emotion—one that is full of fear, anger, grief, and so much more.

The girl who cries in Taehyung's arms for the rest of the night is scared, but she's ready to move on. She's ready to trust and find a new home. She's fighting against her desire for solitude with her desire for love.

I, on the other hand, cannot fight my inner fears. I'm too terrified. I can't let myself move on and I can't trust anyone or anything. Every moment feels like I'm walking on a tightrope where I could fall at any moment.

In conclusion, that girl isn't me.

But, as he rubs my back and murmurs soothing nothings to me, I find the hope that someday, she will be.

<3 adoremei-