He's dressed in a neatly pressed, black, suit, hair slick back, and a briefcase held in his left hand as he stands at the door.

He looks about, confused as to where to look a she stands before him.

"I'll be back, later" he calls, though his voice echoes in the empty house, she knows it's for her. He smiles a genuine one, before shaking his head and leaving, locking the door behind him.

She doesn't bother looking out the window, hearing as his car engine starts up and the sound of gravel crunching under the car wheels signals his departure.

She looks down at her hands, thinking of how she managed to touch Taehyung earlier. Was it because of last night? When they touched, did it make her stronger?

Looking about the living room, her eyes fall upon the bookshelf, stacked neatly with all the books she's read before. She remembers lounging in front of the fireplace on winter days after school, with a book resting in her lap, her favorite, "Wuthering Heights". Jungkook would be seated upon the chair beside her, face scrunched in determination as he played on his game console. Taehyung would be in his father's study, playing the piano, the tune wafting through the house soothingly.

Though she had read almost every book, she would read them all again if given the opportunity.

This gives her an idea. She managed to move the salt shaker so why should grabbing a book be any different, she thinks as she focuses hard on the aged copy of "Wuthering Heights" before her. Time had eroded its corners, the once bright red now faded and peeled. Dust covers every nook and cranny of the entire bookshelf. Taehyung clearly hadn't bothered to take care of it.

After hours of failed attempts at pulling the book, she's about to give up, when in a frustrated rage she smacks it and watches in shock as it's knocked off the shelf, slapping against the floor loudly.

She's not sure how much time has passed though it appears a while seeing as the sky has long melted out of its once blue haze, being replaced by lilac and peach. It was evening, and here she is, staring into a now-empty bookshelf, courtesy of her smacking every book to the floor in an attempt to prove to herself she could in fact touch anything.

Looking down, there's a pitiful mess of books scattered at her feet. Sighing loudly, she reaches for one, excitement bubbling in her gut as her fingers wrap around the smooth binding of an old copy of "The Iliad". Picking it up, she turns the book in her hands, flipping opening the cover and enjoying the crisp sound of the stitching stretching out as the binding pulls.

Just as she makes to turn to the first chapter, something slips from the page and falls to the floor. Looking closely, it's a photo, a polaroid.

Reaching for it, she immediately recognizes the face that looks back up at her from the photo. The same eyes as Taehyung's, that stern look.

His mother.

It's a polaroid of his mother sitting in a velvet red armchair, the same one by the fireplace. The fire is lit, orange glow casting shadows across her skin. Her lips are pulled into a smile, a genuine one, and oddly enough Eun Hye can't remember a time when she had ever seen the woman smile so sincerely.

However, she does recall the woman staring at her every time she came over. Those sharp eyes following her every move, lips pulled into a frown and despite the mortifying awkwardness she felt, she would still greet the woman politely. If Eun Hye was being frank, she didn't quite like the woman. It felt as though his mother didn't like her, perhaps felt a form of primal instinct when it came to her precious son being around her.

Even as a kid, she had always found his mother to be scary, though she never stopped Taehyung from being friends with Jungkook and her.

She knew for a fact that even if his mother was stern, she loved Taehyung dearly. She never told Taehyung how she felt about his mother, but Jungkook knew. Jungkook saw the strange looks she received as well. And no matter how they attempted to discuss it and decipher it, there wasn't a single idea they could prove.

Sighing, she places the photo back in the book, eyes catching something scribbled in black ink where the photo had been resting.

"To my dearest Ae Jin"

-Min Gyu

Min Gyu, Taehyung's father, was a complete contrast to his wife. His smiles were always so wide and comforting. He always welcomed them with laughter and bright eyes. He was always away on business trips though she saw all of his attempts at keeping in contact with his family and it was heartwarming. She thinks back to her own family, wondering how they were now that it had been years since her death.

She was an only child, naturally, she was showered in affection and adored by her parents, and though she thought of her parents here and thereafter waking in this house, she mostly tried not to. It was easier to pretend that they were okay and that they had healed from the trauma of losing their only child, easier than drowning in the emotional turmoil that followed those who succumbed to grief.

And on the days she caught herself slipping, mind wandering a bit too far back to those  childhood memories of her mother's warm embrace and her father's soft smile, she would cry and sit at the foot of Taehyung's bed as he slept, using his presence as the only comfort she knew.

Sighing, she places the polaroid back in the book and closes it, placing the book on the shelf. Slowly, she cleans up her mess, humming a tune as she did. Excitement fills her gut as she thinks of last night, the feeling of Taehyung's hands against her face, his smiles, his eyes staring into her own.

Finally! At long last he could see her and as selfish as she feels being satisfied that he still clearly held feelings for her despite all the years that had passed, she can't help but be flustered.

Shoving the last book into the shelf with a rough push, she stands back to overlook the bookshelf. Hopefully, Taehyung wouldn't notice the books were in a completely different order than before. Surely, he wouldn't care, she scoffs.

Maybe she could try watering the flowers in the greenhouse, she thinks excitedly as she heads for the back door, only to stop dead in her tracks when she thinks she hears a gentle knock resounding through the house.

Pausing, Eun Hye looks around, glancing at the staircase and peering towards the kitchen. What was that?

She waits for a solid five seconds, counting in her head, before continuing towards the back only for the knock to resound again, louder this time.

Whipping around her eyes land on the front door.

It couldn't be Taehyung, she thinks as she approaches the door cautiously. Though it wouldn't matter if she was being loud, whoever it was wouldn't know she was here. Perhaps it was Hoseok, but he knew Taehyung was rarely home on weekdays. Heading towards the window she immediately crosses Hoseok off her list the minute she spots a mop of shiny, black hair. He's pacing at the door, clearly anxious but determined judging from the focused look in his round eyes.

"Jungkook?" she whispers. Has he come to try and reconcile with Taehyung again?

Eun Hye wishes she could let him in but what good would that do, their relationship needed time to heal and nothing she could say or do would help it.

Jungkook waits for a brief five minutes before she sees him visibly deflate, a rather impatient look on his face as he sighs. She thinks he's about to leave as he turns away, only for him to bend down and reach for one of the many potted plants sitting on the patio. She recognizes this specific pot, it's porcelain white with red polka dots scattered around it. She's done the same thing before, as Taehyung has when he would forget to bring his own copy of the house key and was stranded outside after school.

Grabbing the plant by its stem, Jungkook lifts it out of the pot and flips the pot upside down. She watches as a golden key falls out of it, clattering against the brick flooring. Placing the plant back, he grabs the key and looks about checking to see if anyone was watching, before shoving it into the lock and twisting it open.

Clearly, he's figured out Taehyung isn't home, so why is he still coming inside? She wonders as she watches him close the door behind him and peer around the empty living room.