5. Whispers in the Wind

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#Warning: Triggering content

Taehyung's P.O.V.

My eyes flickered to the horizon, the sunset seemed a little more gorgeous today. I would have never expected to see him here. This is definitely an unexpected surprise.

Kim Seokjin.

It's been awhile.

Good to see you finally learnt to speak your mind out.

I thought to myself as I drove, momentarily glancing at his backpack sitting in the passenger seat which brought back memories from six years ago.

A few months to go and I will finally be done with school. I had quite a fair reputation at school, not really the fuckboy kind but being smart, athletic and good looking had its perks I guess. I was not the flunking type but I was more into sports, taekwondo specifically. However, I was not that exceptionally talented in it that could assure my parents to let me pursue it as a career. As finals neared I had to limit my passion for it to just an hour or so after school, or at times only a couple hours in the weekends.

One afternoon as I stepped into the practice hall my eyes fell on one particular 'misfit' in the room. His soft plump features heavily contrasting the rest of the students, and just like mine many an eye flashed a glance at him every now and then. He barely spoke to anyone and kept to one corner of the big room.

"He looks new, doesn't he hyung?" Joohyuk asked leaning over to me as we began with our warm up exercises. I could tell he is new here, I would have noticed such a 'misfit' if he had been here before.

He sucked at the sport, I could not understand why he had joined since it did not look like he enjoyed it at all. But it did not take much brain to realize why once I started to casually keep an eye on him. He was a sophomore, some three years younger than me.

Walking down the street one day after school to the nearest convenience store I caught a glimpse of him hiding in the alley, desperately trying to rub off something from his shirt. His hairs wildly sticking out in every direction and I'm sure he had a cut lip and a bruised forehead. Some bullies had spray painted on his shirt, the word 'faggot' beaming in bold red letters. He stiffened when he noticed me staring at him and instantly turned away. I realized he felt self conscious but I couldn't just leave.

"Do you need any help?" He flinched at my words, and I felt like he wanted me to leave. I hesitantly took a step closer. "Please go, I'm fine" he sounded like he was struggling against his tears but somehow his voice had a stern edge to it. I decided it would be better to respect his request and leave. I hurried to the store and grabbed some painkillers, antiseptic and bandaids quickly returning to the edge of the alleyway. "Hey" I tried to grab his attention, he flinched again. I gestured that I was leaving the meds there so that he may use it on his wounds. Sadly I didn't have enough money to buy him a shirt. I walked away, but waited.

From inside the convenience store I watched him leave after a while, bandaids covering his cut lip and forehead. I don't know why I felt so relieved.

The casual eyeing soon became a habit. I wanted to talk to him, hoped he'd let me inside that shell of his and maybe know his story if he'd want to share. But damn was he a stubborn one! He would never let me help him, let alone stand up for him. But I wasn't giving up just yet. Call it a stupid whim of hot young blood, I let the 'rumor' spread that no one was allowed to go anywhere near the boy because I had my eyes on him. I was not really bothered if it would reach his ears, actually I wanted it to and I felt glad to see that he wasn't covered in bruises every other day.

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