"You want this?"

"Say please."

____________________________

JUNGKOOK

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said you can't graduate." She says, flipping through the records with her brows furrowed. "You didn't know about this? You're a senior, Jungkook."

"How was I supposed to know?" My voice rises slightly from panic. "You're saying I can't graduate then? I have to take another year?"

"No."

My eyes flicker in hope.

"I don't have to?"

"Well," She corrects, adjusting her glasses. "Not unless you somehow find a way to fill up 300 hours during summer break. School ends today."

"Three hundred?" I shout, hushing quickly when she gives me a sharp look. "Unbelievable. Mrs. Kim— I think you read that wrong."

She clicks her tongue.

"I certainly did not. If you don't bring me a service log for 300 hours by August 16th, then you're required to take senior year again."

My mouth drops open.

"Have a good day, Jungkook."

"Wait— Mrs. Kim!"

But she's already ushered me out of her office, and I curse softly under my breath as I storm out of campus. It made no sense. Community service? Three hundred hours?

I do the math.

If I wanted to fill all of that during three months of break, it meant more than three hours of hard work every day.

My phone rings.

"Jimin." I hiss, tearing out my hair when I answer. "Did you know about this? Community service hours?"

"Of course I did."

My eyes go wide. "What? And you're saying you  didn't tell me about it until now? It's the last day of senior year!"

There's a brief pause. His voice is confused.

"Jungkookie, I thought you knew. I thought you were doing all those hours because you always told me you were busy Tuesday night."

Heavens.

"I tutor my cousin, that's why." I sigh, biting down so hard on my lip that I taste blood. "They're not letting me graduate. If I don't fill all these hours I'm stuck as senior."

Jimin gasps loudly.

"What? What about that school you got into?"

My mood worsens. I was top student in the entire university, had been accepted to one of the most prestigious med schools in Korea.

I curse again.

"I can't go."

"Holy crap." He murmurs. But then his voice gets excited all of a sudden.

"Wait— Jungkook. Do you know Kim Taehyung?"

"Who?"

"Kim Taehyung. My mother's friend— son. Remember I told you he couldn't move from the neck down because he's paralyzed?"

I still had no idea what he was going on about.

"Who?"

Jimin breathes in frustration. "You have the memory of a goldfish. Just go to this address that I send you— okay? By three o'clock."

Three?

My eyes shift to the top of my phone. It was already two-thirty.

"Go here?" I repeat confusedly when he sends me a location text. "What is this place? Jimin?"

No one answers.

He'd hung up on me.

"This little shorty." I hiss as I try calling again. When he doesn't answer, I clench my fist and tap at the location he'd sent me.

What in the world?

They were directions to Kim Corporations.

____________________________

I'm starting to think Jimin had been messing with me when I hesitantly walk inside the entrance. The building is almost as large as the one on campus.

And I'm wandering around the lobby aimlessly when someone taps on my shoulder.

It's a woman, dressed sharply.

"Are you here for the application?"

"Appli—"

"You must be." She says by herself, and guides me down the hallway. Before I can even ask her what she means, she places me in line with dozens of other people and gives a firm stare.

"You're next. I hope you know what you're going to say."

I don't even know what I'm supposed to be here for.

But the moment some other woman calls something out behind a pair of doors, she grips my wrist and pushes me towards the room. I try to ask her what this is, but she won't answer me at all.

Before I know it, I'm in a room similar to where I took interviews for the schools I'd applied to.

There's a woman sitting in front of me.

"Please sit." She says, not even looking up when I come in. "Mr. Kim is watching— he just isn't here in person. State your name."

"Jeon Jungkook." I murmur, voice starting to turn pleading. "Can you please tell me what this is? I don't understand what's going—"

"Why do you think you are fit for this job?"

And I finally break.

"What job?!" I shout, standing from my chair. The woman looks at me in shock.

"I've been asking everyone today," I seethe, expression annoyed. "And no one has even bothered to tell me what this is supposed to be. I'm just trying to graduate!"

The woman finally frowns.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because my roommate—" I sigh, cursing him out in my head. "He tricked me. Pretty sure. So if you'll please excuse me, I need to go start my three hundred hours of volunteer service."

Genuinely pissed off, I'm about to turn and leave when I hear a voice completely different from the woman.

"Mr. Jeon. You do understand this is volunteer service."

Who...

"What?" I say blankly when I come face to face with a man in a wheelchair. He tilts his head, and I frown.

"Where did you even come from?"

"From here." He says, turning towards a door at the back of the room. "But I wanted to let you know. That this is volunteer service."

"Would you work for me, Mr. Jeon?"

The woman suddenly cuts him off in a panicked voice.

"Mr. Kim! He's just an university graduate."

"I don't mind."

"But I do." I say, biting down on my lip. "Unless you're giving me three hundred hours over the next three months, I'm not willing."

"Seven hundred twenty."

I blink. "...Come again?"

"I said seven hundred twenty." He says, expression amused. "Work for me for a month, and you'll have that many hours to present to your university. And I believe that might also look spectacular on your resume."

Seven twenty.

"H-How does that even work?" I stutter, eyes narrowing. "That means I'll have to work for you day and night for a month."

"And you will be."

"All you needs will be provided." The woman cuts back in, typing something rapidly on the computer in front of her. "But for the next month, you'll stay 24/7 by Mr. Kim's side."

My throat goes dry.

"That can't work. I have shifts to do at the café— have to help my roommate pay rent."

The woman sighs. "Where do you live?"

"Uh... the flats near campus."

"Consider your monthly rent paid." The man says, and I shoot him a suspicious look. "What other excuse do you have, Mr. Jeon?"

Excuses?

I blush. "They aren't excuses."

"Then come to this place tomorrow morning." He says. The woman still looks like she's trying to hide her surprise, behind the desk. "And know this for certain—"

"You're not leaving anywhere without my permission for the next month."

___________________________

"I don't know what you got me into!"

"Whoa, Jungkook." Jimin laughs. "I didn't think he'd actually pick you but this is amazing! Now you don't have to spend another year at university!"

"That's not the problem anymore." I seethe, crossing my fingers tightly. "Don't you understand? I'm going to be a living slave for a paralyzed company heir for the next month."

"Taehyung." Jimin corrects. "I've never met him before, but he's nice."

"How do you know he's nice when you've never met him?"

I groan loudly when he hesitates.

"Jimin, you weren't there. He can't move a single arm or leg, but it feels like he's going to eat me alive as soon as I walk back inside that company."

He laughs. "He's not gonna do that."

"You're not getting the point," I mumble. "I don't want to be his personal maid."

"But you're still getting three hundred hours of volunteer service, aren't you?"

And he gets me with that. When Jimin sees me fall silent, he sighs and taps my shoulder.

"Look. Kim Taehyung isn't going to make you do every single chore, neither is he going to make you his personal maid. Just make friends with him for a month and you get what you want."

"I can't be friends. He's probably like ten years older than I am."

Jimin scoffs.

"He's twenty five, Jungkook."

"Twenty five? I'm twenty one!"

"So you can't make friends with a person four years older than you?" He says, pointing at himself. "I'm twenty two and you get along with me just fine. You don't even call me hyung."

And the words blurt out of my lips.

"But that's because you just don't feel older—"

I hush. But he'd already heard, and his eyes widen slightly.

"Jeon Jungkook. Are you calling me immature?"

"I-I need to go to my volunteer service now." I laugh awkwardly, quickly reaching for my jacket. "I'll see you in a month. Love you, hyung! Bye!"

"Jungkook!"

I rush out of the flat, running towards the end of the street. He was such a nice person, but one thing that really pissed him off was being called short or immature.

The company really isn't that far.

But when I get to the entrance, a pair of guards block my way. They hadn't done this yesterday, so it throws me off completely when they stare harshly down at me.

"Who are you?"

"Uh..."

What do I say? To-be-volunteer? Caretaker?

"Let him in, please."

It's that woman. She's standing at the door, and the guards make way for me to walk in.

She leads me inside.

"There's one thing I forgot to ask you, Mr. Jeon." She says, guiding me upstairs. "Do you know how to drive? And how to write?"

How to write?

My expression turns insulted.

"Of course I do."

"Very good." She just says, and I'm starting to feel even more insulted when she stops me in front of the same door from yesterday. "Please go in. Mr. Kim is waiting."

This must be his office or something.

He's sitting in front of his desk, in a wheelchair instead of a regular chair.

"There you are." He says. "Finally. I thought you'd take all of morning before you got here."

"You didn't tell me the exact time." I find myself protesting back. "You just said morning. It's only eight, Mr. Kim."

"Call me Taehyung. And take a seat."

Pursing my lips, I'm looking for a chair when I realize it's set right next to his wheelchair.

"Here?"

"Yes, here." He says, tilting his head towards the papers on his desk. "I don't expect you to get used to this today, but I need to work. Just hold up the papers for me to read and write what I tell you to."

He raises an eyebrow.

"You do know how to write, no?"

I frown. If one more person asked me if I couldn't do the thing I'd been doing since I was five years old, I'd throw them out the window.

"Of course." I grind out between my teeth, picking up the first sheet of the pile. "This first, Mr. Kim?"

"Taehyung."

"I can't call you that. You're twenty five."

"I'll call you hyung." I quickly add, smoothing out the paper and holding it up to his eye level. "What should I write?"

"Give me a second."

His eyes scan down the paper. And at first I read it along with him, writing down what he says.

Until we get to the middle half of the pile, and I start getting both eye and arm strain.

"Jungkook?"

My head snaps back up. I'd been falling asleep without even realizing it.

His brows furrow.

"Do you think you can continue until lunch break?"

Lunch break?

My drowsy eyes perk back up. "When's that? Is it soon?"

"Ten minutes."

Never have I wanted those ten minutes to pass so fast.

______________________________

My excited face instantly falls the moment I push his chair through the cafeteria entrance. There was a lot of food, but it was all those expensive stuff that didn't fit to my taste.

Seafood— I didn't like seafood.

And neither did I want to try all these other things that sounded too foreign.

"Hyung?"

I stop pushing the wheelchair. His voice is curious when I look for an exit.

"Yes?"

"How long is this again? Lunch break, I mean. And do we really have to eat from here?"

"It's forty minutes long. Why, is the food not to your taste? What would you like to eat?"

Street food.

But I hesitate a little before telling him that. And when he falls silent, I'm starting to regret even pulling up the topic when he talks again.

"If you know where this is, I can go."

"Really?" A wide smile pulls on my lips. I instantly start pushing the wheelchair out of the cafeteria, out of the back door. "I promise— I promise you'll love it. We can get kimbap, fish cakes, and even ice cream if we..."

He laughs.

"Now I understand. You have a child's taste."

I make a face. "Adults like it too. Not just children."

There's a lot of people in the streets. And I notice him looking around, watching as I push him down the sidewalk. It's like he hadn't been out like this for a while.

"Stay here, alright?" I say firmly as I fix his wheelchair to the ground, wedging a pebble behind the wheel. "I'll order and be right back."

He smiles. "Where could I even go without you pushing me?"

"Good point." I say. And then leaving him, I quickly go up to the street food stand.

"Two regular kimbap... and two cups of fish cake, please." I bow and nod my head at the elder woman. "Yes, those. And maybe—"

Would he like mandu too?

I should ask.

And I'm turning when I suddenly hear an alarmed shout of a woman. First I think of it as nothing, until I see hyung and his wheelchair— both missing.

Holy. Crap.

Somehow the small rock I'd placed behind the wheels for safety had slipped out.

"Taehyung!"

I break into a run, panicking when I see his chair rolling down the sidewalk. His eyes are wide, body completely paralyzed.

And I curse when I see where the downhill sidewalk cuts into.

The road.

"No, no, no." I whisper frantically as I run, racing down the sidewalk so fast I nearly lose my balance and crash into a fall. But somehow I stay upright, until I close the gap just in time.

I tackle the wheelchair right before it rolls into the way of a moving bus.

My skin grazes harshly against the rough asphalt.

Several people gasp. But I stumble up painfully, ignoring my pants completely torn at the knees. My face is drained pale of blood as I hurriedly fix the wheelchair back up.

"Are you okay?" I shout, breathing wildly. He looks back at me with his expression still stunned.

Oh no.

"I'm so sorry." I mumble, feeling stupid as I get down and look closer to see if there's any scratches. He was bound to be hurt— I'd tackled him right to the sidewalk.

"I'm fine."

"Stop lying." I say furiously, scrunching my face up as I keep looking. "I nearly killed you."

And on the first day.

I was going to get fired, one hundred million percent.

"I'm fine, Jungkook. The wheelchair took most of the fall." He says, voice calmer than mine. "But you aren't. Look at your legs."

But I don't even hear him, with my heart still beating violently. I'd gotten to him, but what if I hadn't? He would've been hit by a bus, and it would've been all my fault.

So stupid.

"Jungkook?"

I breathe, angry tears filling my eyes. The little pride I have left makes me shuffle around, turning my back to him as I cover my eyes with my hand.

Stupid.

"Jungkook."

Sniffling, I quickly wipe my face and turn around. And he's looking at my red, swollen eyes. I can just know it.

"I'm fine." He repeats. "But you aren't."

I ignore him.

"Mr. Kim, I completely understand if you don't want me to work for you anymore. I'm really—"

"And whoever said that?" He furrows his brows, interrupting me. "No one's getting fired today— and it certainly isn't you. Are you still up for lunch, Jungkook?"

He wasn't...what?

He wasn't firing me?

But my chest is still heavy from what just happened, and I chew on my lip halfheartedly at his question.

"I don't... know. I'm not really feeling hungry anymore."

_______________________________

"Told you so!"

"See! Didn't I tell you it was good?" I say, excited as I take a bite of the kimbap. There's a slight smile on his face, as he chews.

"Is this all it takes to make you happy?"

"Yeah, of course." I say, the incident pushed back to the corner of my mind now. He takes another bite as I hold up the unwrapped food to his mouth. "Isn't it better? What do you think?"

"It's much better."

And when he admits that, it makes me even happier.

"I knew you'd think that. And do you still think I have a childish taste, hyung? Everyone likes this stuff, they just can't not like it."

We walk back into the company after lunch. The skin on my knees had been all cut up from the fall, but he'd made me visit the infirmary room for that even when I'd said it was fine.

And the boringness starts again.

"Why is there so much?" I grumble, in the middle of scribbling down his words. "Do we really have to do this everyday?"

His eyes skim over my writing. "It's my work. It needs to be done."

I frown, holding up a paper.

"But this is the problem— see? This isn't really due until next week, and we're doing it now. You need to finish work according to their due date."

And he laughs.

"What are you suggesting? That I put off the work until the date is due?"

"Yeah."

"I'll think about it." He says, but I'm dismayed when he just continues on with the rest of the pile.

We end up staying there until seven in the evening.

______________________________

"W-Wait." I say timidly. I'd only ever driven small cars— either my mom's or my dad's. It hadn't ever been something like this.

A black Porsche.

"I thought you knew how to drive?" Hyung asks, and I nod blankly.

But never this.

Hands trembling in excitement, I'm anxious the entire time I lift him from the wheelchair and place him on the back seat. After I secure the seatbelt over his chest, I put the wheelchair to the trunk.

And I'm still nervous.

"The address should already be in the navigation." He says, sounding tired. "Did you find it?"

I quickly tap at the screen.

"Yeah."

I'm driving a Porsche.

I'm driving a freaking Porsche.

"Uh— hyung." I stutter, hands pale against the wheel even though I'd done this a thousand times. "Will you make me pay for this car if I accidentally crash it?"

His voice is reassuring.

"No, I wouldn't. So please stop worrying— I can't relax because of your anxiety, Jungkook."

And that makes me a feel a little more better.

_____________________________

Finally.

The address had led me to a small mansion. It looks more modernized than the present— walls of white, glass panes larger than those at the company.

Still gawking at it, I park the car at what looks to be the garage and open the back door. He'd been silent through the entire ride after I'd started driving.

Now I realize why.

He's fast asleep.

"Hyung? We're here."

But when he doesn't wake up, I open the trunk and pull the folded wheelchair back out. After I get it set up, I shift my hands under his figure and lift him out of the car.

It also helps that he's light.

Strapping him in the wheelchair, I curiously push him towards the door. My face falls when I find out that not only is it reinforced, it's also locked.

Was there a keypad?

Crouching down, I'm poking at the mysterious black screen to the right of the door when he wakes up.

"Jungkook, push me towards it."

I jump. Straightening up like a stick, I roll him closer to the dark screen. It's attached right at his eye level, and my mouth drops open when a line of green suddenly flickers from the black, scanning down his eye.

Holy.

I'd only seen this in movies.

The door clicks open, but he tilts his head at me.

"Put your face there. You'll be with me for a month— you should be able to open the door yourself."

Blinking excitedly, I crouch down and put my face close to the screen. The same green light appears, skimming over my eye as well.

I blink when it fades away.

"Is it...done?"

"Yes." He laughs under his breath. "Get me inside, Jungkook. It's cold."

My cheeks heat in embarrassment when I quickly shuffle up to my feet. I'd been so impressed that I'd been staring at it for a straight minute.

"Right, right."

Pushing open the door, I roll the wheelchair inside. It's dark— the lights are all off, but they flicker on the moment we come in.

Sensors, maybe?

"Do you want to sleep?" I ask, still looking around the interior of the mansion in awe. "You looked tired earlier."

"It's only seven thirty." He says. "Besides. Don't you want a tour? You need to know this house well if you're going to live here."

I nod rapidly.

"Yeah— yeah. Do you have a pool?"

"Of course. But no one uses it."

"An arcade?"

"An arc— Jungkook," He says in disbelief. "Why in the world would I have use for an arcade? This mansion is mostly just empty rooms. There are also quarters for servants and  maids."

"You have servants?"

When he blinks at me, I tap my fingertips against my thigh. Oh yeah— I definitely couldn't forget he was really rich.

"How else could I get past each day?"

"I don't know." I murmur. "I thought— maybe you lived with your parents."

He suddenly grows silent.

"Hyung?"

I hesitantly peek over. His expression has completely chilled over, like I'd brought up something I wasn't supposed to.

So he wasn't on good terms with them.

I wrack my head. "Do you have a television though? I kind of need to watch my show."

"A...television?"

"What do you normally do? When you get back from work, I mean."

I'd hoped it might be something fun.

"Would you mind reading to me, Jungkook?"

Read?

____________________________

"Yeah, sure— I like reading." I mumble as I push him inside a pair of doors. I don't know what I'd expected, but it's much more than that.

Much more.

Thousands of books are tucked neatly inside shelves, which reach up all the way to the ceiling. There's even ladders— the moving ladders, to get to the top shelves.

I gawk.

"What book do you want? I'll get one for you up there!"

My finger points to one of the topmost shelves. And when I do, it makes him lift a brow on accusation.

"You just want to play with the ladders, no?"

"No— yes." I admit. "Can I?"

"Feel free. You can choose the book."

At that, I make a noise in excitement and barrel towards the nearest ladder. And I climb towards the very top rung, feeling thrill at the growing height between me and the floor.

"Do you like science fiction, hyung?" I call down as I play with the ladder, picking a book off the shelf. "It's about aliens. You like aliens?"

There isn't an answer.

And when I stop flicking through the pages and look down, I see the blonde woman standing there. Hyung is looking down at his lap and looking back up, like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

I blink.

_____________________________

"Mr. Kim."

She's reprimanding him. And I cross my hands over themselves, shifting anxiously behind the wheelchair. Taehyung is looking away, expression hardened to a frown.

"You can't let him run free like this." She says, eyes narrowing. "He stays by your side every second. And you."

I flinch when she pins her stare on me.

"You need to take this more seriously. This house isn't some kind of playground for you, Mr. Jeon. Your duty is to take responsibility—"

"Mira." He cuts her off. "He's taken plenty of responsibility already. You don't need to tell him that."

She sighs.

"Very well." She murmurs, even though she looks like she doesn't believe what he'd said one single bit. "Dinner is ready for you. I just wanted to tell you that."

"I'm not hungry."

Her lips pinch together. "Mr. Kim. Even if you aren't, the boy—"

"He isn't hungry as well."

I blink when his gaze turns to me.

"Right?"

"Y-Yeah." I lie, not understanding what he's trying to do. But it seems to work, and the woman leaves unhappy.

And the moment she leaves, he looks up at me.

"Jungkook. Let's go."

"What?" I whisper, gaze flickering towards the open door. I hush my voice even lower, bending a little. "Where?"

"Outside." He says, closing his eyes. "I want to try more of this— other food. The things you like."

"Really?"

"I mean...I'd really like that, except—" I flick my gaze back towards the door where she'd left. "What if we get in trouble?"

He looks amused.

"I'm still the owner of this place, and her superior. Don't worry about getting caught, Jungkook. She won't fire you."

"...alright."

But my hesitation soon fades away when I start thinking of all the choices for dinner.

"Hyung."

"Have you ever had Korean BBQ?"

_______________________________

I hadn't expected his answer.

No, I have not.

The streets are still lit brightly with the signs of restaurants and stores when I push him down. He's looking around again, and I'm watching his back.

It was hard for a Korean person to have never tried Korean barbecue. It was just a too widespread food not to have eaten— and when I brought him out, he always acted strange.

Like he'd never seen all of this.

The street vendors, the laughing students coming back from studying, everything.

And when I push his wheelchair inside a barbecue store I commonly visited with Jimin, his expression grows brighter.

A middle-aged woman with an apron greets us.

"Hello! How many?"

"Two." I smile, but I still can't help but tense when she glances at Taehyung. But she just nods and walks away, to set up our table.

"Hyung," My hands clutch the back of his wheelchair when I bend down to talk in his ear. It was so loud in here.

"There's a lot of people. Are you fine with that?"

"Of course." He says, a slight smile on his lips. "Jungkook, it smells amazing in here."

"Just wait until you actually try it." I laugh, pushing his chair over to the table when the woman waves to us.

"I promise it tastes even better."

______________________________

He keeps asking for more.

"You want this?" I tease, holding up a perfectly cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. "Say please~"

"Jungkook, I'll fire you."

"Fine, fine." I laugh, bringing the meat to his lips. I can tell he absolutely loves it— I could barely eat any because I was too busy feeding him.

"How is it? Good, right?"

"Yes." He says, and I find myself smiling when I see him probably happier than I'd seen him the entire day. "Is there more?"

"There is, but you still haven't said please." I pout, trying to annoy him a little. "So I'm not sure if I can really give it to you."

He blinks slowly.

"Jeon Jungkook."

"Yes?" I say sweetly, making a face as I chew on a piece of meat. "Do you want a sip of coke?"

"Please."

"Wow." I laugh, surprised that he'd actually done it. "I didn't think— here you go, hyung. You really deserve it."

And I'm about to give him a drink when someone suddenly comes up to our table. It's a boy, not much younger than me.

My eyes narrow.

I'm not liking the way he's looking at hyung, either.

"Hey." I growl, instantly putting the glass of water back down on the table. Then I stand up, matching his height. "What do you want?"

I would've never expected what he does next.

He spits at hyung.

My eyes go wide, the same moment Taehyung flinches. And then the next thing I know, his collar is fisted in my hand.

This fucker.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." He says roughly, even when my fingers are tightening around his neck. "For helping a person like that. Disgusting."

I would've slammed him down right on the floor.

I would've.

But he stops me.

"Jungkook." Hyung says, voice deep and warning. "Calm down and let the boy go. It's time for us to leave anyway."

My entire body trembles with anger. Why was he stopping me? He'd just gotten spat on, gotten called all of those things.

I was willing to beat the life out of him, and he was stopping me.

"Jungkook." He repeats, and I harshly let the boy go. He crumples to the ground coughing—  but all I feel is fury instead of pity when I look down at his figure.

"Thank you." Taehyung says softly when I turn back to him, gripping the handle of his wheelchair and pushing angrily out of the restaurant. I couldn't believe this.

It takes a while before I calm down.

By the time I find my breath a little, we're in front of a park. I'd just kept pushing, too angry to know where I was even taking him.

"Why were you defending him?" I whisper, fingers tightening on the handle. "Why, hyung? Why."

"I wasn't defending him." He sighs. "But imagine what might've happened if you'd beat that high school student to the ground."

My teeth clenched together.

Wordlessly, I walk to the front of him and crouch down. Then I pull down my sleeve, wiping the side of his pale cheek.

It still makes me mad.

"You cry too much for others." He says when I bury my face in one hand, body shaking with pent-up frustration. "Don't worry. I had a good time tonight."

How.

How could he have had a good time when he'd gotten insulted and spat on?

And the thought of that just brings more tears. Jimin hyung had always told me I did cry too much— when I was stressed, when I was angry.

"There are many who don't look too well on disabled people." He murmurs. "And that boy was one of the more extreme ones. Most aren't usually that confrontational."

"Then it shouldn't be that way." I hiss, swallowing. His eyes flicker over to me, more surprised.

"Why does it have to be?"

_____________________________

It's nearly ten when we finally get back to the mansion.

"Say ah." I mumble glumly as I sit in front of him in the bathroom, a toothbrush in my hand. 

"Don't tell me you're still angry."

"I'm not." My lips press into a pout. Then I start brushing his teeth, trying to make this work as best as possible while I'm brushing mine. "I'm not angry."

"Good." He says. What he says is all muffled, but I can still catch the words. "Because it isn't right to waste your thoughts on that boy."

"...right."

When we come out of the bathroom, I unstrap him from the wheelchair and lift him onto the larger bed. There's a smaller one next to it, which I'm guessing was prepared for me.

"Goodnight, hyung." I say quietly after finishing to tuck the blankets around his body. His eyes are still open though, watching me intently the entire time I get into my bed.

"Jungkook."

"Yeah?"

"I'm hoping tomorrow you'll do the same."

Do the same? Do what the same?

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning to face him. He's looking at the ceiling though, when I know he could move his neck to look in my direction.

"Introduce things to me."

Oh.

I lick my lips. For both the times I'd done that today, I'd got him nearly killed in one and degraded in the other. And he still wanted me to do that?

Too buried in my thoughts, I don't hear his soft whisper.

"For the first time I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

______________________________

For the next two weeks, I take him to more places to eat, places for entertainment. We go to the arcade, the mall, and so many vendors selling convenient food— like ramen and hot dogs on a stick.

And he loves it.

"Hyung!"

He turns his head to look at me, a slight smile tinting his lips. I'd told him to wait, after setting up his wheelchair next to a park bench.

"Where did you go, Jungkook? The sun set while I was waiting for you."

"Sorry." I say, embarrassed as I sit down on the bench. His eyes flicker curiously at the black plastic bag in my hands. "The line was longer than I thought."

"What is that?"

"This?" I search through the bag, pulling a wrapped package. He tilts his head in confusion— he'd probably never seen something like this.

"It's something you've eaten before. Guess."

His brows furrow when I wave the triangle-shaped package. "I've never eaten anything like that. I'd know if I would've."

"No." I laugh. "You've had this before. I literally gave it to you, so I would know."

He shoots me a look.

"Are you giving up, hyung?"

"I never agreed to guess in the first place." He murmurs, and I offer him the first bite. My expression turns delighted when he chews, eyes flicking down before it widens in realization.

"Isn't this...?"

"Triangle kimbap." I say, pressing in silent laughter when I see a cheated look on his face. "I bet you didn't expect that at all."

Then I stop when a phone starts to ring.

"It's not—"

"It's mine." He says, voice suddenly tense. "In my right pocket, Jungkook. Thank you."

Sliding accept, I press it carefully to the side of his face. Because it isn't on speaker, I can't really hear what the person on the other end is speaking.

But I can tell that whoever it is, they sound furious.

"Yes." Hyung whispers, features tightening with every second. "No, father. I— yes."

His face is dark when the call ends. Then he turns to me, sounding like the man I'd seen at the first day— with all the distance and the coldness.

"Let's get home. Now."

______________________________

"Is it your father? He's home?"

"He's in my house." Taehyung growls, voice heavy. "Jungkook. After you push me inside, I want you to immediately go back out. Take a taxi to your flat— anywhere. Anywhere you're safe."

"....what?"

"What do you mean?" My voice sharpens. "I'm not supposed to leave until the month has ended."

"You're coming back tomorrow." He says, and I get the feeling that something is wrong as we approach his mansion. "Meet me at the company. Tomorrow. Understand?"

"Hyung, I don't—"

"Just listen to me this once."

His words are pleading. And I don't know what to do, except to nod hesitantly.

"Okay."

"Good." So when I open the door and push him to the middle of the hall, he twists his head to look at me.

He smiles softly.

"You can leave. I'll see you tomorrow."

_____________________________

For the first time in three weeks, I wake up from my own bed. Jimin's splayed out on the couch again— he was so weird, always preferring to sleep on the living room couch instead of his own bed.

After lifting him up and throwing him back where he belongs, I pluck a sticky note off of one of his packs and scribble a quick sentence.

I'm going to the company. There's stuff in the fridge, so eat it.

Sticking it right on his forehead, I grab my jacket and make the short walk to the company. I'd barely gotten any sleep last night— from worrying about Taehyung hyung and because of Jimin hyung's snoring.

The guards let me in this time.

And I'm surprised, when I see the blonde woman waiting for me in the lobby. Her expression is more serious than usual.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon. Mr. Kim's in his office."

"I— uh, know where it is." I murmur when she starts leading me there. "Thank you though."

She nods. Leaving her behind, I hurry my steps as I walk towards his office. I knew the directions too well by now— I'd been the one getting him there for the past three weeks.

Why would he send me away last night?

My feet just get faster at the curiosity. And when I finally get to his office, I walk in without a second of hesitation.

"Jungkook."

What the hell?

_____________________________

"What the fuck is this?"

He presses his lips together in a dark line when I rush over, pulling down the turtleneck he's wearing. Red scars litter the skin there.

And his face.

"Someone hit you?" I murmur, eyes narrowing. He tenses when I look down, at the rest of his body. He seems fine anywhere else, but how in the world would I know.

"Who?"

His father.

"You said your father came last night." I hiss, teeth clenching at the white bandage on his cheek. "Was it him? Did he do this?"

He ignores me.

"I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, Jungkook." He says, turning away. "I need you to get me there then. We should work on a few more—"

"You're not answering me."

His jaw flexes.

"You're going to go to a meeting when you're like this?" I say in disbelief, motioning at his face. "Why are you even at work? When you should be in a hospital."

"It isn't that serious."

"Not serious?" I repeat. His expression turns darker, but I'm sure mine is worse. "Not serious? Your own father hits you and you think that's acceptable."

"Jungkook."

His tone is warning. But I'm too angry to stop.

"Has he done this to you before? Now I understand— why you've never seen a movie, why you've never eaten anything other than expensive food. It's probably all because of your father, right?"

"Jungkook."

My hands are pale with how tight my hand is on his thigh.

"Does he even treat you like a son?"

His eyes widen. A stuttered gasp escapes his lips, before his gaze becomes two shadowed pools of fury.

"Get the fuck out of my sight."

I stare at him incredulously. Then the anger pushes through, and I grind my teeth together.

"Gladly."

Spinning on my heel, I storm out of his office. The door slams shut behind me, and I don't stop walking even when I'm out of the company.

That's why he'd always been so happy when I took him out. That's why he looked like he was seeing a different world.

That's why.

Because he's never had a father to do that for him his entire life.

Then all of a sudden, there's a hiss of tires— the screech of something skidding across the black asphalt.

Something crashes into my side.

_______________________________

The meeting.

He had a meeting in fifteen minutes.

That's the only thing I can think about, until someone cursing violently above me replaces that. My eyes slowly slide upwards, to catch on the shadow of a man tearing his hair out.

Our eyes meet.

"Thank God." He exclaims when I struggle up to my feet, expression dazed. "I thought you were— kid, you just walked into the road. Are you blind?"

"Thank the Lord I wasn't going above thirty miles per hour. Are you hurt anywhere?"

My head. It aches there, but I don't feel anything too painful.

The meeting.

"I'm fine." I murmur. "What time is it?"

"Time..?" The man glances down at his watch. "Eight twenty five. Anyways, you should still go to the hospital even if you think—"

I spot a black cap inside the open door of his car.

"Can I borrow this, please?" I ask, and he just blinks at me stupidly. "I need to get somewhere, and I don't have...don't have the time."

"S-Sure."

"Thank you."

Only when I press the cap down on my head do I feel more of the pain. Something wet and thick trickles down the back of my shirt, but I ignore the feeling as I run back to the company.

My eyes brush over the clock hung above the lobby desk when I enter the doors.

Three minutes.

I needed to get there— at least take him to the conference room. Who else would do it if I didn't?

And he's still there when I crash through the office. He looks up in surprise when I come in, one hand pressed to the side of my head.

"....Jungkook?"

"Let's go." I say faintly as I grip the handles of his wheelchair. My breath hitches when I try to put strength back in my arms, and find that I can't.

"Wait." He whispers. "I—"

I can't push him.

Dammit.

______________________________

TAEHYUNG

A dull sound echoes behind my back.

Did he...

"Jungkook!" I shout, voice raised higher. When he doesn't give an answer, it just makes me more certain of what I heard.

He's collapsed.

I call his name again, face paling to white at the silence. I turn my head, but it isn't enough. It's far from enough.

And my pathetic body won't move.

Breathing roughly, I force my head all the way to the right before jerking it roughly to the left. It takes me several tries, but finally, the wheelchair tips to the side with the momentum.

The first thing I see is the blood.

_______________________________

JUNGKOOK

"Ow!"

My eyes fly open. And instantly I start struggling, when I realize I can't move my arms and legs. It feels like I've been rolled in a thick blanket and left to suffocate.

"Mr. Jeon— calm down. I'm almost done with the stitching."

"Stitching?"

"What stitching?" I demand, wincing when there's that sharp pain again. "I don't want to get stitched. Can you please stop doing that?"

A woman in a white coat glares at me.

"Nearly done. There's this gentleman waiting anxiously for you outside, and here you are just fine, Mr. Jeon. Will you please keep still and let me finish up?"

Someone?

"Who?"

"You can find that out for yourself when I'm done stitching." She says, and I finally settle down and let her finish poking at my head.

What happened?

I'd gotten hit by a car— that I remember. And then I'd gone to the company....tried to push him to his meeting but that's when I'd—

"The meeting."

"There we go." The woman in white says, dropping a roll of bandage. And as soon as she lets me free from the suffocating white straps, I jump out of the hospital bed and rush towards the door.

And nearly slam straight into the back of a wheelchair.

"Hyung...?"

He seems surprised. But the surprise soon turns serious, and I swallow when he narrows his eyes. I still remembered saying all that stuff to him too.

"How in the world." His voice is tense. "Do you manage to scare me like that? What the hell were you doing— not going to the hospital or even telling me  when you get hit by a car?"

"I got...wait, you know?"

"Of course I know." Taehyung says bitterly. "A man came running after you— searching for you. He told the receptionist that he'd hit a certain boy and that boy came running to here first thing. You apparently told him you didn't need a hospital."

I blush.

"What happened to the meeting?"

"The meeting?"

Then his face darkens in realization.

"Of course I didn't attend. You were collapsed down on my office floor, and I was so terrified I just forgot about the entire damn thing."

Oh.

"...sorry." I say sheepishly, touching the side of my head. There was a little dizziness, but it didn't feel like anything to worry about.

"Hyung."

My voice grows more hesitant. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. When you didn't even do anything. You didn't deserve—"

"I thought about that." He suddenly interrupts, looking up at me. The dark bruise on his cheek has faded, even though the bandage is still there. "It's better that you did yell at me."

I blink.

"...what?"

"What I mean," He says, brows furrowing. "That's how I know, hm? That you care."

"A mother who scolds her son for doing something wrong is always better than a mother who sits by and doesn't say anything."

I lick my lips in confusion. "Wait, so I'm your mother?"

He laughs quietly. "No— why would that be? It's just an analogy, Jungkook. I'm saying thank you for caring when no one else did."

When no one else...

Did?

I stare at him. And he looks back up at me when I keep staring, eyes slightly avoiding mine. His mouth is pressed together firmly.

"I'm just saying this, because you are leaving soon. Our month is almost up."

The month. I'd completely forgotten, that the deal I'd made with him ended in just a few days.

"I want to release you today."

"...what?" I blurt out, voice stunned. "There's still— there's still time, hyung. I didn't finish the entire..."

"With you like this? I'd be cruel to keep you working." He says flatly, and I blink all stupid. "Don't worry. I've already told my secretary to give you the service log."

"That's not what matters anymore."

I'd hissed that. He looks up in surprise, and my stare turns angry at him.

"I don't want to leave." I say, thinking back to the scars. "Do you really want to let me go, hyung? I don't think you want to either."

"Will you let me stay?"

"Will I?" He repeats, brows furrowing. "It's been barely a month, Jungkook. Don't think that you know all of me—I'm just not someone you should be willing to give up so much for. I thought you were aspiring to be a medical student?"

I need to convince him.

"This is being a medical student. I'm being your caretaker."

Hyung clicks his tongue. "Now that— that's an excuse. I found out that you were ranked first in your university, Jungkook. You're not someone who should be stuck taking care of a disabled."

There's a deep frown on my face.

"I'm gonna stay. You need me."

He laughs. "There are thousands of other people out there who can push a wheelchair, child."

"Yes, but you need me to be that person." I stress, clenching my fists. "I still have a lot of things I need to show you. I'm not leaving until I'm done."

I'd stayed with him for a month.

A month, and I knew enough to realize. If I left him, he'd probably just slowly go back to knowing nothing but working. And that was the last thing I wanted.

"Then I have a condition." Hyung says. "Attend that school. I'll be damned if I'm the one who hinders your education."

I make a face. "Then I won't be able to take care of you all the time."

"It's called a part-time, Jungkook."

An unhappy sigh escapes my mouth. But for the next few seconds I consider what he's saying— and even though it isn't as good as staying full-time, it's better than nothing.

"...okay."

"Okay?" He repeats, and I nod.

"I'll do part-time. And go to that school too."

____________________________

A few months later

"Look!"

I'd rushed into his home the moment I'd gotten dropped off by the taxi. The few guards there didn't even hesitate, now that they knew me well.

He's waiting for me, as usual.

"Look what I got!" I say proudly, showing him the piece of paper with my test score. I'd done so well on this exam— better than I'd expected.

"Are you proud of me?"

"Yes." He smiles, tilting his head. "You're very intelligent, Jungkook. I wouldn't expect anything less anyway."

I beam. Hearing that was like confirmation, that I really was doing well. I was working hard to balance both school and taking care of Taehyung.

"Alright." Smiling, I clap my hands excitedly together.

"Are you ready for some waffle today, hyung?"

*END