Kim Taehyung is a 31 year old therapist. He's great at what he does, the best despite his stern, mature personality. While having all of his patients slowly heal due to his expertise, it seems that his newest patient, 19 year old Jeon Jungkook is ju...
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"𝗩𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻."
-𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐎𝐧𝐞-
Humming softly to himself, the 19 Year old brunette hopped happily down the hallway with a smile, despite the ugly bruise that littered his chubby cheek, advancing towards the tall wooden door that lead to his father's office which was located at the end of the hall.
In his right hand, he held a plate that was mounted with the cookies he had made earlier that afternoon, and on his lips sat a bright smile, bunny-like teeth poking out slightly. Swallowing any hesitance, he slowly raises his free hand to nock in the glossy dark oak wooden door, only for silence to follow.
"Daddy?"
His smile morphed into a pout, and he frowned, waiting a few seconds before nocking once more. "Daddy?" Still with no answer, he slowly turned the door handle as he gently pushed the door open to poke his head in to the office.
"Daddy look, I made You Cookies to apologise for making you hit-"
"Leave, Jungkook." The older man waved his hand in dismissal, not once looking up from his paperwork to spare his son a glance. "Can't you see that I'm busy? Too busy to be distracted by you?" he rose his voice, aggression apparent. "Don't you have a Bedroom to clean? It's a Shit Hole If You hadn't noticed."
"Oh," Jungkook mumbled, mood lowering instantly. "I'm sorry." The 19 Year old's smile fell from his face, his eyes losing their shine as his father so cruelly shut him down. "I'll go and Clean my room.. again." He looked down at the plate of cookies, nodding gently before leaving the man's office, closing the door gently behind him. "M' sorry, Daddy. I'll Leave your cookies on the cabinet outside."
He let out a shaky sigh, tears filling his eyes as his teeth clamped down tightly on his bottom lip in order to silence his sobs.
He was so alone. Even his own father couldn't bare to spend time with him. He gently put the plate on the cabinet in the hallway, sniffling as he dragged himself towards the large staircase. He gripped the banister with shaky hands, practically pulling himself up as he wiped his eyes with his other hand.
"D-Don't cry, Kookie." He scolded himself through a strangled whimper, tapping his head scoldingly as he ascended the stairs. "H-He Doesn't let you cry...It's Not manly to cry."
His father hated it when he cried. Growing up, He always told Jungkook to man up, shut up or else he'd give him a reason to cry. His mother had left when he was little, after having enough of the cruel treatment by the hands of Mr Jeon, She packed her things and left justafter Jungkook's Sixth birthday.
Sometimes, the Teen wondered what his life would be like if she was still here. If she didn't give up on him. Would his father be less angry? Would he be happier?
As his foot reached the top step, he straightened up, pushing open his bedroom door before disappearing into the mess of his room. He whined as soon as he entered, eyes tearing up in fustration once more when the realisation of the fact that he made this mess hit him.
There were clothes all over the place, empty water bottles and just mess everywhere. It wasn't filthy, but things were just scattered -too messy for him to comprehend.
He leaned back against his door, his teary eyes landing on his coat. He swallowed the lump in his throat, stumbling over the mess on his floor to grab it off the hook, putting it on with shaking and unsteady hands.
Grabbing his phone and keys, he stuffed them in his pocket, pulling open his bedroom door before leaving, not bothering to close it behind him.
He felt so, so suffocated.
—
Stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks, the dark haired teenager trudged down the sidewalk, eyes cast to the pavement below his worn and battered red converse. He'd hoped Jimin wasn't busy that night, Because he really didn't know if he could cope being on his own. Not with all the unpleasant thoughts running through his head.
Jimin was the only person who didn't make him feel small and unimportant. Park Jimin was Jungkook's best friend, The only person who Jungkook could talk to. Jimin was the one who helped through countless anxiety attacks and breakdowns. He was always there to pick up the shattered pieces of Jungkook's heart each time Mr Jeon Shattered it.
He turned a corner, sniffles dying down as he saw the familiar house close by. Jimin's Home was smaller than Jungkook's, but it was homey and warm. Unlike His own, Jimin's Home was full of memories and joy.
He knocked on the door, whining as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, waiting for the familiar blonde to open up. And he did -the door being pulled open almost Instantly. Jungkook barely had time to register before he was pulled inside and wrapped into a hug, two short arms squeezing him.
Jungkook flinched at the contact, Arms trembling as they stayed by his side. Jimin pulled away and lead him to the couch, making sure to help the younger remove his coat and shoes. "Jungkook, Did He hit You again?" Jimin had asked, nibbling on his thumb anxiously as his eyes lingered on the discolouration of the teen's cheekbone. "Please don't lie."
"Not Today." Jungkook answered, hiding his face in his hands. "It was my fault... I-I Shouldn't have been so needy when he was working, hyungie." He admitted. "I should have waited."
"It's never the victim's fault." Jimin sternly interjected, getting up and running to the kitchen to get a ice pack from the freezer. "Jungkook, This isn't good for you. You're terrified of your own father and Have multiple breakdowns a week because of him! H-He hurts you!"
"Hyungie..." Jungkook looked up wide eyes. Had Jimin had enough of his sob stories? He gulped, eyes pricking with tears as he scrambled back into the couch when the elder came back, ice pack in hand. "D-Don't shout.. Please..."
"You're my best friend, Koo." Jimin just sighed, running his hand through his hair as he sat down, gently placing the ice on the bruise on Junkook's face. "It hurts me to see you like this. I've tried everything to get you away from that damned house, yet you refuse every time! Please just let me help you?"
Jungkook's shoulder's sagged. He knew He should accept the help. Jimin had done far too much for him already. "What will you do?"
"Therapy. A friend of mine, He's a-"
"Therapy won't help me." Jungkook protested, crossing his arms, as he looked at the carpet beneath his feet. "I'm too ruined at this point."
"Jungkook." Jimin scolded, eyes quickly softening at the fright in Jungkook's teary eyes. "I'm not just sitting around anymore." He said softly, wrapping his arm around Jungkook's shoulder, still icing his cheek. "Do this for me, Please? Just meet Taehyung once, Okay? Therapy will help-"
"Who's T-Taehyung?"
"The Therapist," Jimin chuckled fondly, removing the ice from Jungkook's face. "He helped me a few years back. He's the best at what he does, although he can be a little mean." He pouted in thought. "He's not scary, just strict. He means well."
Despite not having much faith in the idea, Jungkook nodded softly. He'd do it for Jimin. He owed the elder that much at least. "I'll go."
