The Last Of Us | tk ✓

eleven | onwards, baby

FEW MILES SOUTH OF
DAEGU, S. KOREA.
11:11 PM, September 15th.

Taehyung's feet were killing him. His toes were sour and his calves aching. In the depth of his thoughts he mourned for days much lighter than these, much brighter, even in the middle of this goddamn apocalypse.

Ringing his fingers around the straps of his bag that dug into his shoulder blades, the sticky, late summer night drew sighs of exhaustion out of him, a drop of sweat teetered on his puffy upper lip.

The soft pat, pat of Jeongguk's footsteps hitting the pavement of the dingy alleyway they walked through was heard frequently. Even the moon looked tired, hanging in the sky lazily, concealed faintly behind the curtain of clouds.

They have been travelling for over two weeks and taking breaks less, Jeongguk mostly hunting for food and Taehyung learning some few essential tricks that the older very strictly stated as, "You survive or you die, your choice. This wood isn't gonna light up on its own, kid."

First off, Taehyung would argue in his head, too hesitant to speak up face-to-face, I'm not a kid. I'm literally two years younger than you. Second, well, I'm trying!

Even if Jeongguk's aura glittered more these days, in a shy attempt to not leave Taehyung totally isolated, his endearment shown even brighter, more radiant. Taehyung loved the part where, once he used to think Jeongguk could've never opened up, now began to smile sheepishly at small moments they shared.

Like, if Jeongguk brings in a squirrel or two for lunch, he'd drop his hands down once he'd notice the last bit of chunk left, for Taehyung to eat off. Doing his part as the older of the duo; washing Taehyung his clothes, refilling his container. He had taught the latter stuff that can save his life, survival mode — except when it came to weapons.

Jeongguk, in his very own mind, absolutely refused to hand Taehyung even a pistol for precaution, sought it 'wrong.' "You're," Jeongguk would paraphrase, tone light but taut, "a minor. A minor, kiddo."

At those Bambi eyes filling with tender warnings, Taehyung found himself tilting forward, just a little, to catch Jeongguk's sweet cologne. Jeongguk wouldn't take heed, he wouldn't. Sometimes, Taehyung would admire him — for instance, try holding the pistol like when Jeongguk is in action, taking down growling, nasty zombies, imitating his scrunched-up face with its badassery wickedness, only to be scolded to not touch his 'toys' again.

Those 'sometimes' times of impersonation, happened to be all the time.

‗

"One more day, Taehyung," said Jeongguk airily, flapping an old blanket strongly to swat off the settled dust on it, laying it down on the ground skillfully. "Another day, and we'll be in Daegu." They are at a rooftop, high up, millions of stars breaking the sky, defining it with such magnificent ferocity, the cosmos above them.

Taehyung chewed his meat, eyes on the guy, gulped, then answered, a slight frown etched in the gentle skin between his handsome brows, "Who's in Daegu, again?" They were Jeongguk's acquaintance, he knew that much.

"Er," Jeongguk paused, inclining his bunny teeth together in a diffident sort of way, as if unsure of the forthcoming events in Daegu, cheeks pushed up, not smiling.

Taehyung speculates, "You don't know if your guy is alive, do you?" At which Jeongguk gives a small, short nod, busying himself to make their bed in the dead silence of night.

He, Taehyung, was aware of the fact how, at small things, Jeongguk found himself guilty one way or another, if the situation was worse, so does the older's self-doubt. So, he smiles mushily, looking over at the moving figure that now punched the bag packs for a make-shift pillow. "We'll find him," Taehyung utters out positively, "What does he do?"

He hears Jeongguk whistle impressively under his breath at his inquisition, muttering out boisterously, "That's one cool guy. He owes me, so he's stuck to help me out. If he's not dead, I guess." Then his glance fixates on Taehyung, who's sat on the cement floor cross-legged, gesturing him towards him, "Come on. Let's doze off a bit. Did you check the lock?" He questions as an afterthought.

Taehyung snorts. "Like a hundred times. Make it one hundred and one?" He gets up, leaning over to the door to downstairs, now secured.

"Nah," Jeongguk shrugs off, "I've come to trust you. I guess." He reprises, easy-going, "Come on, now. You were so good today, too, you know that?" He says encouragingly, as Taehyung slides inside the beddings, covering himself up, grinning goofily in response.

In a moment they accept quietness, staring forever at the rolling sky above them, so enchanting and devilish at the same time. In these soundless times, Taehyung's chest grieved the ones he has ever lost, eyes tearing up.

He sniffles and Jeongguk looks over. "Can't sleep?" He asked the younger, murmuring ever so soflty, like the fluffs of clouds over them. Bobbing his head, Taehyung drags his palm over his cheek quickly. "Hey," Jeongguk's feathery tone says from beside him, and when Taehyung looks at his side, Jeongguk is much closer than he should be, than he was. "Listen to my voice, okay, buddy?"

Again, Taehyung nods, taking a long, sharp breath for the emotions to hide back again.

In the next second, Jeongguk's euphoric voice fills his ears, moulds into his heart and melts it away, because Jeongguk is singing. It's a sad song, so full of meaning than the plain of words. It's a waterfall of feelings. He sang:

"Roses on a grave,
accepting the beauty of pain;
running away from grief,
when we chase our own misery,

"In the deserted heart,
the sand dunes roll,
an ocean deep scar,
an unspoken truth.

"A language of love,
a longing, one lie;
forever with us,
they are, never leave.

"What's kept is always
taken, one way or other.
Swat off the dust,
give a little smile,
it's fine, stand up,
and onwards, baby."

Heavenly, Taehyung marvelled. "Wow," he voiced, paralysed in his speech, a chunk of his tone sawed off from the grieving emotion, replaced with utter fascination.

Jeongguk giggled heartily, timidly. Disclosing beat later, dropping his cheery face, "I used to sing that to my brother. He was insomniac," his vowels refilled with sadness to the brim at the memories of Hoseok.

"So," Taehyung enunciated, not unkindly, "you called your brother, 'baby,' eh?" For some reason, his own heart was doing a weird beating session inside the cage of his chest. Also, was his face becoming hot?

Jeongguk stared at him owl-like, then give Taehyung's forehead a good flick, punctuating a yelp from the very guy. "Maybe stop being such a smart-mouth, Taehyung." He retorts offhandedly, tossing on his other side, his back at Taehyung, who smiled himself to sleep, something off his conscious cuddling with Jeongguk —

And "Rest well," God would say lovingly, "tomorrow will be a little tougher, my children."

—

ithinkiloveyou.