BRAINWASH | JJK & KTH

二

U K I Y Ō
ー浮世

sunlight shone under the door like a ghoul's grin, yet gave the shutters a halo of golden rays–the new morning.

its presence was evidently remarkable, an everyday scene that was picture-worthy. however the morning is as assured as the tides and just as unstoppable. jeon jungkook needed a few more hours of the obsidian mask he saw behind his eyelids every night. not to sleep, but to prepare; to pour his thoughts out onto a measly page, reorganise, prioritise, and pack them back in again.

but, already, he could see the chaos within his unkempt bedroom. the dark, ragged outline of the littered clothes atop the dresser, and the towering lamp; which he always managed to trip over in the dark.

soon there would be tones and colours, screeches of ongoing traffic, the aroma of the crisp air–as refreshing as a fizzing beverage on an insufferably hot and obnoxious day as this one. oranges and reds forged from a sunset were splashed carelessly (yet seemed to land in the right places) across the foamy clouds as if by a celestial hand. 

rays, seemingly more powerful since he had woken, flooded over into his room, showcasing a glamorous spotlight above his stringed instrument which was perched just under his eye-like window.

the sweet refrain of the acoustic guitar spoke a musical language to jungkook's soul. the strumming sound had a hypnotic, soothing quality in each fragile touch that he craved for.

to lose himself to the melody of the guitar was his idea of a heavenly afternoon.

but what was an instrument, a melody, a song,
without an accompaniment?

jungkook pondered, forearm resting over the curvature of the instrument, velvety fingers loosely laying on the dense strings intuitively-for some reason, kim taehyung came to his mind.

his voice;
his voice was his instrument.

if only
they could create a mix of the entrancing sounds they had to offer, and become one within music.

but jungkook brushed it off, thinking it was a dumb idea.

for starters, he didn't even know the guy, and he was already infatuated with him.

he could turn out to be a dick, after all.

。。。

once he set his guitar down,
he could hear something.

someone.

it seemed to come from a source that was not too far from where jungkook was at that moment; it seemed like it was from the house right next to his.

jungkook tried gulping down, a stone lodged in his throat.

he listened.

the person's voice was smooth and clear, yet quite powerful. soothing, in a way. you don't really call a guy's voice beautiful, but his was.
it was the promise of tomorrow.
and jungkook wished he never stopped.

swaying from side to side, he lost himself in the moment of the hypnotic sounds, satisfying him from head to toe. he couldn't help but begin to sing, recognising the song which the person was singing.

his own mellifluous tone pranced about the room and ran smoothly like milk and honey at the finish of a line.

the combination could prick an eye with gleeful tears.

。。。

on the other side of the soulful duet, kim taehyung thought to himself; if any friend of his would tell him that he had a nice voice, he would never believe them again.

taehyung's cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming colour so out of place on his caramel skin.

the song stopped.

yet it appeared as if something blossomed at that very moment.