It's not fucking fair. It's not fair that she isn't here and it's not fair that she'll never know Jungkook. It isn't right that Yoongi's world is separated into two lifetimes, the one with his mother and the one with Jungkook. She would have changed her mind. He knows it. No way she could have seen how happy Jungkook makes him and wanted anything but for them to have a life together.
He listens to Jungkook speak and he can't even look at him, watches him from his peripheral vision, cheeks heating, eyes starting to burn. Maybe he would have been like this with her, too, weak and afraid and always hurting, but she would have been here. Or maybe he would be stronger and braver and kinder for having had her all his life. And he'll never know.
It's been years, and it still hurts.
"Yah, only because you can't meet yourself," he says, more gruff than he intends to be, if only because it feels like his only other option is to break down completely. Sometimes he can almost feel her here, but it only makes him miss her more. He sniffs, blinking hard. "He's too modest, Mom. He's everything to me. I'm teaching him how to play, too. He's good at it. You'd like him."
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He listens to Jungkook speak and he can't even look at him, watches him from his peripheral vision, cheeks heating, eyes starting to burn. Maybe he would have been like this with her, too, weak and afraid and always hurting, but she would have been here. Or maybe he would be stronger and braver and kinder for having had her all his life. And he'll never know.
It's been years, and it still hurts.
"Yah, only because you can't meet yourself," he says, more gruff than he intends to be, if only because it feels like his only other option is to break down completely. Sometimes he can almost feel her here, but it only makes him miss her more. He sniffs, blinking hard. "He's too modest, Mom. He's everything to me. I'm teaching him how to play, too. He's good at it. You'd like him."