Sexchange ● JJK

• 16 • house of the perished and demised

Tomatoes.

Lettuce.

Onions?

Do onions go in sandwiches? Do avocados go in sandwiches? Well, they should. They taste divine. He chopped a handful of vegetables, spread mayo and cheese inside two bread slices and placed the vegetables inside in an order. Closed the sandwich too cause he's a good boy who knows how to cook.

Violà! There's a sandwich...

Should he sing to the sandwich now?

Ok, cut the crap. He is so bored. Bored out of his mind. It's rather despicable of him to wish for your presence. With you around, he hadn't been bored in centuries and lightyears. Even before the agreement began, both of you had seemingly been friends. You were always around, naturally. Singing, giggling, chatting, jumping around, doing something which seemed like a disturbance to him. It hadn't been a complete day without you and he was missing your excited, hyper voice teasing him or gushing about something enthusiastically. Right, he never responded to you but that didn't mean he didn't listen, he had gotten used to it.

It may have been annoying but it was something out of the ordinary to not hear your nonsense talks now.

He looked at the sandwich which he wasn't going to eat. The lonely air in his apartment had led him to go insane and do something which wouldn't make him feel like he was dying. So, the sandwich. Outcome of pure boredom. Wasn't this a sandwich you'll like to eat? Should he take it for you? No, it will be so weird. He shouldn't. Neither did he feel like eating, the thought of having a meal made him nauseous for some reason.

Hadn't eaten a thing since today morning but he did that sometimes, skipped meals. Sometimes went without a meal for the whole day. Didn't really bother him.

Leaving the sandwich uneaten, he grabs his leather jacket and exits the apartment, grabbing the car keys while doing so. Jungkook, being the amazing intelligent man he is, had an idea. He'd offer you a ride home and when both of you were in the car, he'd be able to talk to you and you'd have nowhere to run. Another advantage would be that he'll get to know the exact address to where you were staying. And, he took the car because on the motorcycle you might not feel comfortable sitting behind him, literally glued to him. In the car, there would be a safe distance so you would comparatively better.

There was an intrinsic motivation which told him to go, chase you. Keep chasing you until his heart was at rest. The entire day and night he had been at severe unrest.

The Porsche fired up to life once again and with much trepidation, he stepped on the accelerator. Smooth cruising, he exhaled looking out, the world going on it's own path. And, he had to go on his. Yet, there wasn't even a faint clue in him about what's that path of. Let's assume you did agree for a ride, what will he talk? What will he say? A fucking sorry which means nothing. Plead you to come back and beg you to be in his life just so you could feel that harsh coldness again. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to open his mouth out of nervousness and fear. He didn't know if he could give you the warmth you wanted and deserved.

You didn't deserve him and neither does he deserve you.

After what he did, he didn't even trust himself. Well, he never fully trusted himself ever. He was a lethal, negligent and reckless man who was wandering and travailing through a maze, unsolvable, and dragging his pathetic shit through the salty, hard waves and pleasantly serrated thorns. Never had he cared for himself, how would he be able to care for someone else? Though, whenever his limiting demeanors allowed him, he tried to take care of you. After knowing stones, ocean beds and arid wastelands his entire life, he really tried hard to grow a delicate flower. No wonder it's life was bleak and depressing.