Chapter 2
Jungkook’s POV
It’s been over a year since I returned to Seoul. Not much has changed in my life. The shadows are still my only companions. People on the streets don’t often band together. Out here, it’s every man for himself. But even in the depths of hardship, I’ve found kindness in unexpected pockets – from fellow brothers on the streets, rather than the well-dressed, privileged who drive fancy cars.
This city intrigues me. Life moves at a relentless pace. Everyone is running a race. My race is to my next meal. I rarely look beyond that. If I allow myself to hope for too much, I fear disappointment. This world is cruel, and that’s enough to know.
Around 2:00 AM, judging by my internal clock, I found myself outside a familiar building. The one with the skylight. That small glass window offered a glimpse into a life I craved. A stirring of something within me pulled me towards it, up the fire escape.
I don’t get attached to people, places, or things. But this place… it touched something deep inside me. I looked through the skylight and allowed myself a rare smile. Something I rarely have cause to do. There’s not much to smile about these days. The knife slipped through the catch on the glass easily, and I opened it.
Just like last time, there’s no alarm. I dropped down into the quiet hallway. The place is exactly as I remember it. The warmth inside enveloped me like an old friend. And I found myself smiling again, for the second time tonight.
I skipped the main bedroom, heading instead to the bathroom downstairs. It’s clean and untouched. I removed my clothes and sank into a bath, taking my time, relaxing in the heat of the droplets. I cleaned myself as best I could, then wrapped a towel around myself before collapsing onto the soft rug, finding oblivion.
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??????? POV
I stretched my sore muscles, awakening to the morning light. It had been a long, tiring day, and I was looking forward to relaxing at home alone, away from the constant bickering at work.
I headed to the attached bathroom to prepare for a quiet, peaceful day. As I walked downstairs, I nearly tripped over a bundle lying on the living room floor. I caught myself before falling, hearing a soft groan from the bundle.
I backed away quickly, heading to the closet to retrieve the metal baseball bat I’d stowed away there. When I returned to the living room, the bundle had disentangled itself from the rug and stood up. The loose towel around its waist slipped, and I stood frozen for a few seconds, raising the bat to confront the intruder.
The intruder opened their eyes, revealing a vivid shade of brown that momentarily captivated me. But I remembered who I was, and they met my gaze with an equally shocked expression.
Hastily, they picked up the towel, re-tying it around their waist as I screamed and lunged with the bat.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Aaaaarhhhhgg!!! Oh my God! Please wait! Don’t hit me,” they cowered on the rug, curling into a fetal position.
As I swung the bat, I stopped just centimeters from their head, hearing them whimper in anticipation of the pain.
I threw the bat away, as if it were a venomous snake.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t going to hit you! Shit!”
Was I actually going to hit them while they were down, unarmed? What’s wrong with me? I was shocked by my own impulse, thanking whatever force kept my hand from connecting. They had some explaining to do.
They moved their hands away from their body and backed away into the foot of the couch, cowering there.
“Listen, I’m sorry. Look!” I showed them my empty hands. “I’m not going to hit you. Just, who are you and what are you doing here? And where are your clothes?”
Their body relaxed slightly, and they looked at me, still afraid.
“I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’m homeless.”
I was in absolute shock.
“Did you break into my home?”
“I- I promise, I didn’t know anyone was here. Please don’t call the cops on me,” they whined, and I looked at them with pity. They were so thin and weak, with a thick beard but scared, kind eyes. I felt pathetic at what I’d almost done.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to call the cops. Get off the floor and sit on the couch. Okay?”
Their eyes widened, and I watched them fight an internal battle, deciding if they could trust me not to hit them with the metal bat.
Slowly, they got off the floor and sat on the couch, still rigid and ready to flee. I backed away and headed to the kitchen.
“I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee, and then we can sit and talk. I can’t think straight without caffeine.”
When my espresso was ready, I took a sip, savoring the heavenly taste. I returned to the living room to find my unwanted guest still cowering on the couch. I took a seat opposite them, sipping my coffee.
“What’s your name?” I asked kindly.
“J-Jungkook.”
“I’m Kim Seokjin. It’s very nice to meet you. Please don’t feel afraid. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
They visibly relaxed and looked at me questioningly.
“How old are you, Jungkook?”
“I’m 19.”
“Okay. I’m 22. That makes me your hyung. Now, what exactly were you doing in my home?”