(AN: A badly written draft I had. Thought I should add it as some bonus content for y'all.)
(In the morning of the last day of the year:)
BO-YOUNG
I wake up with my nose blocked and my head cloudy – what an ideal way to begin the last day of the year.
The house is still dark, the sun barely having risen over the horizon a half-hour ago. In the moderate darkness, I see the piles upon piles of Jungkook's moving boxes, most of which have remained unopened since their arrival late last night.
Two days ago, after Jungkook and I returned from the store, Jungkook received a call concerning the moving truck's extreme delay. This managed to distract him from Jimin's plus-one conundrum.
The air in the room is not only heavy with dust, but it's also suffocatingly hot. I huff in dissatisfaction and tiredness, reluctantly kicking the weighted sheets off myself and moving Jungkook's arm from around me. I hear him grumble, but he quickly settles back into a deep sleep again.
I walk barefoot to the window in Jungkook's room and sluggishly pull it open. The rush of cold air hits me like a refreshing wave, instantly aiding the stuffy feeling in my nose.
I open my eyes to see the last sunrise of the year 202X, the light of which weaving through the snow-covered branches of the trees. It's picturesque.
This house has never failed to provide a picturesque backdrop. Now that I think about it, the whole town looks like it's been pulled right out of a polaroid.
An idea – or memory – suddenly comes to me. The camera which Jungkook bought from the older lady in the general store. If I could find that polaroid camera, I could snap a few pictures to commemorate the last day of the year.
With determination, I scan the cardboard boxes in Jungkook's room, reading over the labels in hopes of finding one that could contain the camera. Unsurprisingly, the mass majority of his boxes are full of copious amounts of finished art or art supplies. He's been working hard on filling his upcoming gallery.
Set on my mission, I leave Jungkook's room and quietly make my way to where the rest of the boxes are.
The living room, where Jungkook and some other workers piled all the remaining boxes, is much brighter than Jungkook's room. The large windows let in the sunlight, which makes searching for the camera much less straining.
After trifling through many boxes, one of which I noticed contains my bedding, I finally find the camera in a box labelled "miscellaneous." I hold the small thing in my hands, being careful not to drop or scratch it.
I walk up the creaky stairs and back into Jungkook's room as quietly as I can. Inside, I find Jungkook still sleeping. I can faintly hear him snoring, his mouth slightly open as he rests. His hair is messily pressed against his pillow. It's not a particularly flattering look, but it's endearing.
In fact, it's so endearing that I might just immortalize it as a picture.
I smile, knowing that this is my opportunity to get revenge for when he took a picture of me without telling me. An eye for an eye, a candid for a candid.
I snap the picture, my ears flinching at the abrupt noise. Jungkook stirs, his dark eyes dazedly opening and landing on me. The picture slowly makes its way out of the camera, slowly processing. Jungkook's eyes widen in abject horror as he processes what I just did. Before he can protest, I speak.
"Hmm, it's cute. Very endearing," I say as I look at his sleeping face in the picture. "Consider this my revenge for the lake-side photo."
Jungkook purses his lips but is unable to argue. Instead, he simply asks: "What time is it?"
"7 am," I answer, to which Jungkook loudly grumbles before pressing his face into his pillow.