Stray

eleven

Seokjin wakes up with a blinding headache. He winces, blinking his eyes open to see birds flying around his head. He swears he didn't drink yesterday, so where did this headache suddenly come from?

"What time is it?", he mumbles, checking the side desk for his alarm clock, but a glass of water and a capsule sheet stays in place instead. He scans his surroundings and realises that he was not in his room. He glances down to his clothes. It was a size bigger than his. Holy shit.

His pants remain the same as yesterday. His pockets, he quickly delves into his pockets and throws out everything inside; his wallet (inside, still almost empty), coins, gum wrappers, and a picture of him and Jiah.

Where is he? What happened last night?

Jin pushes himself out of bed. However, his body restrains him from doing so, engulfing the man back onto the doughy mattress as the heat radiating off of him became stronger. Oh right, he's sick. Seokjin almost forgot about that.

Jin tries again, this time standing up. He succeeds after a couple tries, putting on the blue koala slippers waiting for him to use (it was right below him). He lets out a whiff of satisfaction when he finishes the heavy task.

Okay now, he needs to get out of the house. He takes a good look at the room before him, which was decorated with various types of books, ranging from academic to YA novels to note and sketchbooks. The parent could sense this stranger's intelligence already.

He heads out, tiptoeing like a criminal out of its cage. There was a blue haired man working at the stove, humming lowly as he dances to hip hop music on his phone.

"Excuse me," Jin clears his throat, getting the latter's attention. He stops dancing, his ears going red as Jin catches him in the middle of his performance.

"O-oh, you're awake." He puts the wooden spoon aside, taking a bowl of soup from the fridge and heating it in the microwave. He sets the bowl on the dining table, giving the elder a gentle smile.

"Here you go, my brother made this soup for you last night, but you slept throughout the whole night. Please, have a sip," he leans closer, "just a heads up though, he can't cook, but he tried."

Jin eyes the man hesitantly. He doesn't look dangerous. Plus, he spent the whole night here and he's still alive.

Jin grabs a spoonful, blowing through the hot liquid before sipping it into his mouth. It tastes.. weird. No hint of flavour anywhere, it was the most bland soup he's ever tasted, but at least it was still edible. The man feels bad, so he finishes the soup despite knowing he'll get a stomachache sooner or later.

"Whoa," the blue haired goes wide-eyed. "You finished it, was it really that good?" He claps, "Hyung must've cooked it well this time, I'm proud of him."

Jin nods with a weak smile, his tastebuds gasping for help.

"So, your brother?"

"Ah, yes, my brother. He's at work right now and won't be back until around 3 pm."

"Oh, what does he work as?"

"He's a teacher," the man says proudly.

A teacher, Jin ponders. There are a million teachers out there, but could it be...? No, the probability that it is him could be one in an eternity.

Jin glances up to the clock on the wall. His eyes almost bulge out when he sees the time. 2 pm, 30 minutes until he has to pick Jiah.

Jiah. He should've accompanied her to school this morning, but he woke up late because of all of this mess. This bizarre mess of a task from his boss that got him motionless until the morning. Speaking of his boss, his work. Instead of ending up on the other branch, Jin ends up on a stranger's bed. He fucked up real bad.