A Tweak In Time (KTH) •Ongoing•

▶ Chapter XVI

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They say,

a woman's resentment can call for snow,

even in summer.

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Taehyung stared at his plate. All the vibrant colour of his food and the aromatic scent tried to lure his senses but his mind was focused only one thing.

While walking towards the canteen with Jimin after confronting his father, his gaze fell onto the nearby man-made park. A bridge was what stood out to him the most. It was strange knowing that he saw that bridge almost everyday on his way to work but somehow, after that dream that day, the sole existence of that bridge was enough to chill him to his bones.

The bridge was almost identical to the one in his dreams. It was small and acted like an accessory to the park rather than providing aid. Clad in polished woord and heritage architecture, it was covered in dried branches and leaves of warm hues as winter was approaching soon.

"No-No one important, I shall take my leave now."

That voice-

"You don't have an appetite?" Jimin clinked his chopsticks on his plate causing the male to flinch.

"Jimin, please— eat your food first before talking. It's disgusting." Taehyung scrunched up his face in distaste.

The reprimanded man shot him a dirty glance as he chewed quickly like a squirrel before talking once again, "I was saying, are you not eating those?" He signalled towards the drumsticks, "I mean, if you don't feel like eatin-"

"Eat them if you want to, I—I will uh, take my leave first. I just remembered something important that needs to be done like right now, so," he took his coat and nodded slightly at his friend before he exited the canteen.

I have to ask Younggeum about this, my intuition tells me so.

Jimin could just watch his retreating figure in awe as he chewed on a piece of rolled omelette from Taehyung's plate.

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It was a room engulfed in what seemed like layers of untouched duvet of dust. Even if it was late afternoon, stong beams of sunlight fell upon the wooden desks loaded with unarranged papers sprawled all over them. One of the desks was near a window on which a portion of the glass was broken so to repair that, a newspaper cutting was attached with bits of white tape stuck to it.

And another desk was just in front of where she was standing. Folders of different colours lined up on the desk like a deck of cards but the thin layer of dust over them was enough to send alarming signals to the back of her head. The ornamental wallpaper at places was ripped off and even the paint on the wall was chipping off. Loose papers had attained foxing and the paintings hung on the wall seemed like a mere object coated with dust.

Clutching on the knob of the door tightly, she let her gaze wander off the the bookshelf just beside a strange looking rusted two-wheeler beside the door. The content in the bookshelf was homogenous all over with few yellow papers binded together with a black string that seemed too weak to hold them together. She let her stare divert from the cobweb adorned bookshelf to the huge coffee stain on the floor which had its ends darkened but the middle portion was nearly the colour of the tiles.