Still With You ?

34

Taehyung stared at him for a moment. "Appa didn't tell you anything about this?"

Jungkook shook his head.

Taehyung sighed. "He really pampers you a lot..." he murmured.

And that was it.

Jungkook's already broken heart shattered into even smaller pieces. His chest ached with silent screams and cries.

"He... He never pampered me. Never even spoke to me softly or properly," Jungkook thought bitterly.

"Even if he pampers you this much, you should at least respect him. Calling him by his name isn't the right way," Taehyung said softly, trying to make him understand.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. "I'm used to it. I can't change," he snapped, going back to his phone.

Jimin exchanged a worried glance with Taehyung, who let out a soft sigh at Jungkook's reaction.

Jimin patted Taehyung's shoulder in comfort.

Taehyung nodded slightly, silently telling him he was fine.

Jungkook turned his back to them, his fingers mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but his mind was far from the screen. He wasn't paying attention to anything in front of him-his thoughts consumed him entirely.

"Pamper me? He and softness? He never pampered me. Not even once. I have no memories of that. Why the fuck was I even born? Should I just... end this? Would that be better? I have no hope left. I'm so tired..."

His fingers stilled on the screen as his vision blurred with unshed tears.

"He asked me what I want, right? I want peace. I just want to sleep...sleep like there's no tomorrow, with no pain, no nightmares, no pills forcing me to rest. I want these fucking scars to disappear. I want my Eomma. A-and... I just want a happy family."

A single tear slipped down his cheek, tracing the invisible cracks in his heart.

"I don't want these fucking headaches. I don't want to fake my smiles anymore. I just want real happiness... real care. Is that too much to ask?"

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

"No. Why would a fucking killer like me need those things? I'm just a piece of unlucky shit. I wasn't lucky enough to have a happy family. Maybe it's true... maybe because of me, so many people died. Why am I still alive when they're dead? Why did they save me? Why did they save this curse? Are they not disgusted by me?"

His grip on the phone tightened as more tears fell.

"And here, these two... calling themselves my brothers... showing me love and care. But I can't trust them. I won't trust them. Why should I? Even if they're being genuine... I don't fucking need them. They're just like him. Just following him. Just pretending. I know it. If they ever find out what I really am... what I've done... they'll throw me away. They'll hate me, Just like before. They'll say things like him. They'll use me as a tool. A slave. A prey. A worker. A fucking experiment. That's all I am, right?"

The more he thought, the deeper the knife twisted in his heart. It was like drowning, but no matter how much he wished to sink, the pain kept him afloat.

"It's okay... I deserve this anyway."

His trembling fingers hovered over his photo gallery, his breath hitching when his eyes landed on a picture-his mother.

His beautiful, kind, loving Eomma. The one person who would have held him, who would have kissed his scars, who would have told him he was enough.