❝You taste like oranges❞
A boy with a peculiar obsession, an illness that ivolves around him and his sudden urge to eat, or taste, oranges.
A girl with a challenging heart and a curious mind, who's nothing less than complicated, and so is he, tho...
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Jungkook
I'd kept my thoughts well-hidden for as long as it was feasible, but now, they were bursting through the cracks, melting out, cracking through my skull with all their attained power. I was drenched in both rain and devastation. My morning with Sora had been a dream while it lasted. We had walked through the city with our hearts on our sleeves. We were two in a world of many, and yet, once the rain had started pouring and the frail sentiment it had created faded away and molded into one of uncertainty, curiousness, some unfathomadle form of melancholy, It had stopped being us, and the wall around my racing mind crumbled to pieces.
I knocked on the door roughly. My sleeve was stuck onto my palm, heavy and wet hair falling into my eyes. It would usually be of annoyance, but it seemed to cool me off at that moment as I overheated with anger and confusion.
The door swung open, giving me full view of the empty foyer. I stepped in. My mother jumped infront of me, standing tall despite her petiteness with a hurt expression flashing across her eyes. I'd never seen her like this before, but I wasn't rather delicate that day either. I shook my head. Then, I moved past her with Sora's shadow following behind me. Relief overtook me. My hunch had been correct, my trust invested safely. Because despite my harsh exterior, she followed. I no longer had to worry about my attitude. Sora knew all the good and bad, all the black and gold and dark and ugly. And there was much darkness in my soul. That didn't mean she wasn't weary. I caught her as she shot my mother a shy smile, head held down. She only stopped when I circled around the periphery-interior and exterior-of my old house a series of times. I was going in circles and getting frustrated for not findind what I was looking for.
Shortly, I halted.
He wasn't here.
I walked back into the house stiffly. "He's not here". I chuckled. "Is he?".
My mother let out a short laugh. "Obviously not Jungkook. Want me to call him?". The light sarcasm rolled off her tongue effortlessly. "He can come over".
I approached her, raising my eyebrow. A move which hinted at my puzzlement. "You have his number? Mother, please".
"I don't think you understand-".
"Oh, you're the one who doesn't understand. It was that so called of a father of mine that did this. He killed his Son. His own fucking Son. I knew he hated our guts but I didn't know he was as much a monster as he was an asshole". I fell on the chair behind me in frustration.
My Mother didn't show any reaction. She only tried to attain her calm.
I stood again, coming to an awful realisation. "How long have you known?" I spoke quietly, a threatening whisper.
She never met my eyes as I waited in silence.
"You did know. Oh my god" I said breathlessly, slowly panicking as I pulled on my raven hair. "How-why do you know?".
