it’s not
it’s not the fact that he hasn’t seen him in days that has him this distraught, no.
maybe it’s because his toaster doesn’t want to work, or that his alarm clock was determined to not ring when it was told to. nothing was doing it’s job apparently around in his house, and it leaves him more into despair then that he intended. he sees a pair of socks and decided to pick them up and throw them on casually, he disregards the fact he’s not the owner of the article. they’re just socks, there’s nothing special about them. adorned with just tiger characters on the side of it, he thinks that no one would notice, he’ll wear long pants anyway.
while walking down an vacant street, he glances up at the sky. the many colors varies on this cold day, pink, with a hint of maybe blue. it’s the most color his vision has been seeing other than the dark gray room he occupies himself with. today is going to be different, he says over and over like a mantra in his mind.
his usual route would to buy juice at the convenience store, apple to be exact. he wasn’t much of a coffee drinker like jungkook was. jungkook likes his coffee preferably with three tablespoons of sugar, a hint of cream, and if he’s feeling adventurous, he’ll add in just three liquid cream cups. sometimes they spend extra time at the store just to chat with the store teller, if he’s feeling extra chatty. they would walk together in unison, hand in hand, while the other hand is filled with their drinks. they use to work at the same facility, so it would make it easier for both of them and was certainly convenient that it wasn’t that much of a walk.
in favor of his own mind telling him he’s not depressed because of him, he takes the route again. he walks in the store, the smell just the same but the atmosphere completely different. walking over to the coffee machine, he notices how there’s no liquid cream cups left for him. the corner of his eyes start to welt, and he takes his coat sleeves to wipe off his eyes. he’s feeling a little emotional maybe because he missed breakfast and can’t have his coffee the way he wants it.
yep, that’s what it is.
it isn’t the silent nights that keep him up, it’s not the lost warmth that use to fill his arms. it’s not the smile he was so familiar with when he wakes up. it’s not the laughs they shared, it’s not the immense love in between their intermingle bodies. it’s not that.
it’s the socks. he has to wear someone else’s socks that’s not even his own. yep, that’s it.
work dragged. when he reaches home, he throws off his boots but keeps his socks. while walking to the bathroom, he opens up the mirror and checks for sleeping medicine. he notices one for colds, and his mind is saying to not get sad thinking about how the other gets sick often easily, especially during the winter. closing the cabinet, he goes into the kitchen to have a meal before disappearing back into his secluded bedroom.
laying in silence, he submerges himself into his blankets.
‘at the dark night trudging alone, i fell asleep and cried thinking of you,’












