STRAY // JJK x HYBRID (bunny)✔️ Re-Writing

·CHAPTER 15·

BO-YOUNG

I stir from my sleep, feeling Jungkook shuffle underneath me, lifting my head before getting up. In his stead, he places a plump overstuffed pillow.

"I'm going to work now," he whispers as his hand gently trails down my cheek—warm, comfortable, and slightly calloused. "I'll be back around five-thirty with my friend and his hybrid."

"Okay," I mutter into the pillow, unable to think straight in my half-conscious state. I hear Jungkook chuckle before getting up, adjusting the quilt—which has bunched up at my legs throughout the night—to cover me up to my neck.

I hear Jungkook walk away, and moments later, the shower turns on. I bury my head into the pillow, hoping to muffle the loud noise. When the shower turns off, I hear Jungkook shuffle about, but I pay him no mind. Not having completely woken up, it's easy for me to fall back asleep.

I jolt awake to the loud ringing of an alarm to find a small carrot-shaped kitchen timer on the coffee table. I shut it off, cursing under my breath as I glare at the carrot timer. "Really clever, Bunny Man."

Next to the kitchen timer is a note that reads:

"Bo-young, good morning!

"I set this alarm so you wouldn't sleep through the day—please don't take your wrath out on it.

"I'll be back in a few hours. I left food for you in the fridge, warm it up in the microwave for two minutes, and it'll be good to eat.

"-JK"

I place the note back down on the table before leaning back onto the cushion and closing my eyes, going back to sleep out of both pure spite and exhaustion. The world fades away.

Within minutes, I'm awoken again by the same obnoxious ringing. I reach over to the carrot timer to find that it's still turned off. The ringing is coming from the kitchen.

On the countertop, I spot another kitchen timer—an egg this time. I drag myself off the couch with a reluctant groan, dragging my feet as I approach the egg timer. Next to it, I find another note.

"Knowing you, you'll either sleep through the first alarm or go back to sleep after disabling it. I placed this one further away, so you'll actually have to get up to turn it off.

"Welcome to consciousness, Bo-young. Remember, be ready by five-thirty.

"-JK."

He knows me so well, and in this case, it's to my detriment. Damn him and his ability to think ahead. He's barely known me for half a week, and he already has me figured out. Either he's secretly a psychologist or a sorcerer.

"Burn the witch," I chuckle as I place the note down and begrudgingly get ready for the day.

Hours later, I find myself staring at the telly and not really focusing on anything on the screen as I idly swing my legs off the edge of the couch, stewing in boredom. I glance at the clock again, watching the hands ticking towards four in the afternoon.

I turn back to the TV, lounging on the couch as I browse the channels, finding nothing. Then, I stop. On the screen, a jaunty jingle advertising Hybrid adoption plays—specifically, the adoption of bunny hybrids. I watch it play, wondering if an ad like this was what inspired my first owner to adopt a Hybrid.

She was already old when she adopted me—in her late fifties if I remember correctly—though it didn't show in her face until she was sixty-five. She was rather beautiful and unmistakably prosperous, though she wasn't one to flaunt. We lived in a sizable house in the countryside.

The story of her pen was one she only told me once. It was her lucky pen, so she told me. She had bought it on her eighteenth birthday with her savings and only ever signed important documents with it—her first job contract, the lease on her house, and the declaration of her patent, which saved her from poverty. She swore it was magical because even after decades, it never ran out of ink.

"The things I've signed with this pen have made me a fortune, Bo-young," I remember her telling me. "Still, the most valuable thing this pen has ever signed is your adoption papers."

She had placed the golden pen in my hand then, wrapping her aged hands around my own, enclosing it within. I remember looking at her face, seeing only a blur through the tears pooling in my eyes.

"I won't be here forever, Bo-young, and you're well old enough to be on your own. The world isn't kind to hybrids," she said. It was something she had warned me about since our first day together, that life would not be kind to me. She knew she couldn't protect me from it forever. "Someday, I believe you'll sign the most important papers of your life with this pen. As it brought me wealth when I needed it most, it'll do the same for you."

I turn the television off, cutting the jingle off right before its natural end before digging the pen out from my pocket, clicking it open. Its tip is still tickly saturated with glistening black ink, which seems almost silken under the glow of the living room lamp. It's been years since its last use, and I doubt its ink will hit paper again in a long time.