The Theft (taekook)

27. A withering petal

When for the greater part of the day he would engage in vicious armoury, brutal acrobatics or plain hand-to-hand with his unmatched older brother, he took everyone by surprise.

Not because of any exceptionally prim competence or unmatched skill at fighting ; those were as lousy as ever.
It was his determination.

Everytime he was pushed or attacked or escaped the slash of sword by the width of a thread, he would get right up, stand straight and smugly wave for a rematch no matter how thick the blanket of sweat or how grave a bruise.

It is never too late to be exactly who you wish. He would smile wide at the adduced quote, Every. Passing. Day.

Somehow, not today.

Today he has run out of grease. Today his 3 a.m thoughts have knocked him out hard at 8 p.m, as he lays on the concrete floor, chest pressed against the wall causing his nose to gently brush against the cold stony area with every inhale.

His hand is extended upwards to graze an agile, almost airy, finger on the eighth brick as his last salvage of Jungkook's touch.

"Choo-choo! Food train has arrived to emplane it's favorite passenger!" loud voice chimed through the bleak walls and echoed in austerity. "Want to take a wild guess on the menu-"

The wheels of the food stroller halted in accordance with the loud voice. "Tae, why are you laying there facing the wall? Is something wrong?"

"Everything is dainty. I just wish to sleep away."

"Are you exhausted?"

"A little tired, yes. And I apologize I'm not actually hungry, can you be kind and take the food back?" in a sombre tone he muttered never turning away from the wall.

"Nonsense! The big day is in three days, we can't have you-"

"Joonie hyung. I'm not hungry."

"Sheesh! You really must be tired. I shall leave the food trolley here. I will collect this and my favorite smile tomorrow morning."

"I certainly will not be eating so-"

"GOOD NIGHT!"

Taehyung sighed at the fading voice and the loud familiar screech of the door being locked. He continued his corny sulking once it was the lion-in-the-clock silence again.

After a few minutes, he presumes twenty, of the mundane movements he thanked heavens for Namjoon's persistence on leaving the food stroller there since even though he was not going to eat, he did indeed need the water.

Finally turning away, he sat up. His head felt heavy like the weight of thousand bricks dragging him down to the repudiated concrete.

As blasé as ever, he turned the malaise suffering body to the trolley not expecting his throat to throw out the loudest yell it could muster.

Howling in terror he squeezed shut his eyes and clutched at his ears curling into a small ball of yarn, just a cat-paw away from withering.

"Do I look that hideous?" the dark silhouette beside the stroller devised concern although the timbre of amusement was more than evident in his voice.

The wailing boy however was far gone. He kept yelling with ears closed something between the lines 'kill me after three days' and 'I promise I'm a good boy'.

His vociferations turned into whimpers when the silhouette was felt approaching him languidly, chanting "don't kill me please don't kill me" especially when both his wrists were firmly held to remove from his ears.