jeon jΟ
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lovestrippedbare) wrote2019-01-18 07:40 am
lovestrippedbare) wrote2019-01-18 07:40 am
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These are the moments when no one questions where Jungkook will be for the day — when he wakes up early in the morning, before the sunlight shines fully in the sky, and brings the large picnic basket out of the storage closet. On these mornings, he walks through his house with confidence, no fear of receiving negative looks or words from his stepfather or stepbrother. Few words are usually exchanged at all, save for soft murmurs and the brush of warm hands against his arms, Jungkook's mother often reminding him to bring items she's saved off to the side, offering him extra cash for the long bus ride.
A layer of pears and mandarins rests at the bottom of the basket, carefully wrapped in cloth to prevent bruising. On top, a paper plate with freshly heated mandu, a few holes poked in the plastic wrap to stop them from getting too soggy.
Most of the time, Jungkook brings seasonal flowers, whatever blooms brightest but carries a reasonable price tag — little thoughtful gestures that he can't be sure his father would have specifically appreciated, but that feel better than not making the effort at all. Today, the basket is full to nearly bursting instead with pink lilies, a few of the longer stems peeking out from under the cover.
He heads out of the house alone, smiling at the way the gray of the sky gives way to a soft blue. A few quick taps on his phone later, he's both sent a message to Yoongi and pulled up a playlist for the initial walk, cascading arpeggios setting the tone for the day as Jungkook shuffles quickly to the meeting point.
"You'll like him, right, dad?" he murmurs under his breath, shivering when a gust blows through the street.
A layer of pears and mandarins rests at the bottom of the basket, carefully wrapped in cloth to prevent bruising. On top, a paper plate with freshly heated mandu, a few holes poked in the plastic wrap to stop them from getting too soggy.
Most of the time, Jungkook brings seasonal flowers, whatever blooms brightest but carries a reasonable price tag — little thoughtful gestures that he can't be sure his father would have specifically appreciated, but that feel better than not making the effort at all. Today, the basket is full to nearly bursting instead with pink lilies, a few of the longer stems peeking out from under the cover.
He heads out of the house alone, smiling at the way the gray of the sky gives way to a soft blue. A few quick taps on his phone later, he's both sent a message to Yoongi and pulled up a playlist for the initial walk, cascading arpeggios setting the tone for the day as Jungkook shuffles quickly to the meeting point.
"You'll like him, right, dad?" he murmurs under his breath, shivering when a gust blows through the street.
no subject
And if anyone would understand, it's the parents who have already crossed beyond life. The parents who already have that all-knowing perspective.
They won't judge, Jungkook thinks. They must be happy.
He's willing to believe that.
"I love you," he murmurs as he pulls away, nose bumping against nose as they share breath. "Should we head back?"
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"I love you," he echoes, and nods. "Yeah, I think we should."
For today, at least, he thinks he's told his mother the only important things that have changed since his last visit. In the end, this was much less nerve-racking than he imagines it will be someday when Jungkook's mother finds out. Sweet as she may be, she's alive, and that comes with a certain extra brand of terror, it turns out. Right now, though, Yoongi pushes thoughts of that aside. The future will come when it comes. However much they like to daydream about it, he's happy to be right where and when he is.