Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
— i should have trusted him. OCTOBER 17: JEON JEONGGUK
==
it takes twenty minutes to drive to jae's apartment complex, and every second is agonizing.
for jeongguk, it's surreal. absolutely insane, though that hasn't been an uncommon feeling the past month (hell, the past two hours, for christ's sake). he barely understood what jae had said; his mind was completely focused on the fact that kim taehyung, the boy who died four years ago, has been alive the whole time. everything is just...crazy.
three weeks ago, he scoffed at paranormal movies. now it seems he's living in one.
ironically, compared to every one else, jimin is the calmest. his expression is unreadable, fingers loosely clenched against the material of his jeans, as the thinnest exhales escape his lips. jeongguk can't help but stare and wonder. he's about to see the best friend he buried four years ago. who the hell can stay calm at that?
"jimin?" namjoon turns around as they enter the complex, fixating him with a concerned stare. jae presses the buzzer and opens the metal gates. "you okay, bud?"
he manages a pitiful laugh. "i...i don't know."
the answer is as honest as it can get.
it's as if jeongguk's heart is ready to burst when they arrive at the door. jae fumbles with her keys and they hold their breaths, waiting for the moment they get to see the real taehyung, and not abraxas. waiting for the moment they get to have their questions answered. waiting for the moment they get to see jimin become whole again.
a hand takes jeongguk's own, and he turns to his side quickly to see a grinning hoseok staring back at him. he encouragingly and juts his chin to the others, gesturing at their intertwined hands. the unspoken message is clear in the air. we did this. we found taehyung.
jeongguk smiles and squeezes his hand back.
and the door is finally opening, slowly revealing a large, expensive apartment with modern decor that are comically foreign to jeongguk. the six of them step onto the wooden floor and follow jae into her living room.
she clears her throat. "taehyung, come here."
silence. the quiet sound of an swinging door. the soft thumps of footsteps. the rush of blood in jeongguk's ears.
taehyung steps into the living room and everything seems to stop.
even amber hair, tan well skin, clothes clean and whole, eyes wide with surprise, breathing. the sight is a complete 180 to the figure jeongguk saw in the subway footage, in the graveyard, in the news program—
this is the real kim taehyung.
jimin is the one to step forward into the silence, footsteps uncoordinated and eyes just as large. there's the smallest noise that escapes his throat, something in between a rasp and a syllable, that doesn't escape his ears. jeongguk watches as jimin just takes in taehyung, takes in the four years he wasn't able to witness, takes in the health of his body that was never, never there before, takes in the way taehyung's face morphs into his own recognition and shock.
