Spectrophobia || Jikook

You're My Prince & I'm Your Rose

Jungkook stared up at the ceiling to his room, thoughts scattered in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about Jimin - thinking about the secrets the boy was keeping from him. Why would anyone want to hurt such a precious person, someone as pure and angelic as Park Jimin? What on earth was so wrong with him that he wounded up in a mental hospital, locked away far from the rest of the patients? What were they all hiding?

His hand that was resting beneath his head found itself curling around the leg of a soft plushy and he held the pink, bunny doll above him, observing the doll with a fond smile.

"Jungkook, mom and dad will be home tonight so we'll be eating dinner together." Jin announces as he walks into his brother's room.

Jungkook hummed in response.

The older boy notices his quiet behavior and smiles a little.

"Wanna go grocery shopping with me?"

-

Jungkook had the cart filled with all sorts of snacks before Jin could even blink. He bounced energetically across the isles, making the other chuckle. At times like this, he was reminded of the younger Jungkook who loved buying sweets and chips every time they went out together - the smaller child who always smiled and seemed like he had the freedom of the world.

"Jungkook, if I was filthy rich I wouldn't hesitate to buy you the entire store if you wished, but c'mon I only have thirty dollars." Jin laughed.

Pouting a little, Jungkook took a full minute deciding which snacks to let go of and ended up reluctantly placing nearly half the cart back to their shelves. While they were heading to the check out center, he suddenly remembered something that made his eyes glimmer in excitement.

"Hey, hyung?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you bake some cookies tomorrow?"

.o0O0o.

Jimin wandered aimlessly around the vast playroom that was so artificial and yellow that it made him want to puke. Everything here was fake - the sea and sky from the buzzing screen, the wind from the air vents, the mountains of stuffed animals that lay lifelessly all around the room, the cotton clouds drifting above his head against the painted blue ceiling.

Jimin was sick of it.

He was sick of being surrounded by fake things, even the doctors and nurses with their fake smiles and words. "Everything will be okay, sweetheart," they say, "You'll be out of here soon enough."

Lies. They always lie to him, telling him he'd be free soon enough when it's already been twelve years.

A bitter feeling sank at the pit of Jimin's stomach as he sat on his bed and brought his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around himself protectively while glancing occasionally at the double doors at the other end of the room that could fling open at any moment. He's been stuck in this stupid room for so long that he's forgotten what it felt like to breathe fresh air, what it's like to be outside and be free to roam wherever he wished.

After a few minutes of drowning in his own silence and self-hatred, he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve and looked up.

Iseul was smiling at him, holding what looked like a colorful drawing in his hands.

"Hey, Iseul-ah. I missed you..." Jimin smiled back.

The child jumped in excitement as he shoved the drawing into Jimin's arms, waiting for him to judge it. Jimin blinked in surprise as he examined the adorable work of art. There were three boys all holding hands and sitting on the beach in blurs and streaks of blue, their names scribbled in tiny letters.