>> jeon jungkook, angst, 1355 words.  [a/n] i'm sorry for not updating for a while, i've kinda gone off writing for a few months and decided to focus more on college and my writing skill slowly slipped. hope you do forgive, and hopefully i'll be able to deliver better and quicker stories ^^ as always, thanks for reading. :)

Leaves skipped across the ground as the wind gently pushes it in all directions. Returning with another gush, this time brushing the thick strands of dark brown hair of a man who lay still on the dirty ground. The sea not that far from where he’s laying gently caresses the warm summers sand as large birds flying in the sky and those stationary on the beach sang away.

This is what Jungkook defines as peaceful.

Or simply, this is what he ended up defining as peaceful after he met her.

She was a down-to-earth-girl. Though she wasn’t one to speak to many and only cherished a few close friends, she was everything to Jungkook.

She was like a wallflower. Although she blends in with the crowd, she is as beautiful as a blooming flower and stands out more than she thinks.

He loved everything about her. Her blushing cheeks when he would about the silliest things, or the way she would raise her shoulders when she’s displaying a cheeky grin, or how beautiful her eyes curved as she laughs.

She was so confident. She always radiated this inspiring aura that Jungkook couldn’t help but admire when he watched her stand up and speak to a crowd of people as if they were close friends.

She was so creative. She could create an ocean of tears with simple words that could pierce through skin better than an armour piercing bullet. She could calm the nerves of people through the gentle skims and pressure from her fingers onto black and white keys. She created art. She created inspiration.

He wanted to comfort her with soft words when tears fell from her eyes and her face screws up in pain. He wanted to hurt whoever made her think twice about herself. All he wanted was to see her happy; see her smile like it was the only thing she knew how to do.

When she grew up, he became afraid. He knew the struggles of the unfortunate teenage life. Terrible ideas and thoughts entered his head. What if her innocence is stripped away through rough experiences, and therefore cause unhealable scars? What if she becomes one of those the public avoids and detests? He didn’t want that. She deserved the best.

Jungkook knew the struggles of being a part of a low class family. There was nothing he can do either, no matter how many jobs he applied for, no matter how much money was entering his bank account, there was so little he could do for his family.

He also knew the prices of hospital bills. He knew.

But what he didn’t know was that the girl that meant everything and wanted only the best for, had ended up severely ill.

His little sister was his best friend. She was wise and mature for a young girl in her teens, and he has never felt any more proud.

Jungkook knows he can be a brat. He can be a tout, he can be an , he can be annoying; and though his attitude was like this for a while, she still knew how to deal with everything wisely.

Jungkook is so damn proud...

And he is so damn angry at the same time.

Such an innocent and graceful young girl like her had to be infected by one of God’s mistakes, and suffer the struggle of not knowing what it’s like to have a normal life anymore.

She always loved beaches.

After Jungkook learnt how to drive, she would always ask to visit the beach.

Jungkook couldn’t say no.

She would sit for hours in her wheelchair, her feet gently coming in contact with the steady water and her face would light up.

She would pour her heart out at the beach. She would laugh at the beach. She can be herself at the beach.

“The water is so comforting to watch. It’s as if it was taking away all your worries. The wind is so peaceful. It’s as if it was trying to calm your heart down and fix your thoughts.” She would always repeat these sentences every time. “I love the beach so much.”

She was so damn strong.

Not a single tear was shed, no matter how hard she bit her lip, no matter how much pain had went through from clenching her fists to grinding her teeth, she was strong enough to hold back her tears.

Jungkook always told her that crying is a good thing, and that she can cry along with the singing wind and the comforting water.

“I don’t need to cry. I’m strong. I’ve got supporters. I’ve got the wind and the water,” she breathed, “and I’ve got you.”

The wind pressed against Jungkook’s bare skin once again, this time a lot softer. The sun shone and his shadow accompanied him. The flow of the waves picked up, but soon calmed again.

This time, Jungkook sat up. In the distance, he could see someone in a wheelchair. They reminded him of her.

In his right hand, held a collection of crumpled papers. In his left, held a polaroid photo.

The photo was of them. Her 13th birthday: he took her to the beach and threw a private party with only their family, and a tiny polaroid captured their joyful grins on the cake-faced siblings with their parents surrounding them, and a half destroyed cake.

The collection of crumpled papers was of all her work. From her small doodles, to the heart chilling, bone shivering literature through poetry and short stories, to a letter that she had written before she had to say goodbye.

“Dear ol’ brother Jungkook,

Hey.

So. This was a shock, wasn’t it?

I’m sorry.

I’ve failed as a little sister.

I can’t live long enough for you to see me graduate from high school, or college, or university. I can’t live long enough for you to protect me from the evil boys that I would come home and try my very best to avoid telling you, but end up telling you anyway because I trust you with all my being.

I can’t live long enough for you to smile at me and say, ‘my little sister’s growing up. You’re already married.’

I’m sorry you can’t boast about me to your friends. (Not that I want you to, but I know you do anyway. They end up telling me.)

I don’t know how long this illness is going to allow me to keep breathing, but before it’s too late, I wanted to say a little thanks.

Thank you for those times you let me off the hook by taking the blame when I’ve clearly been the one in the wrong. Thank you for the times you would buy me sweets when I’m feeling upset, or try to cook me food when mum and dad aren’t home but end up buying take out food because there’s been countless of times you almost set the stove on fire.

Thank you for buying me equipment that allow me to document and capture how beautiful and amazing my life has been. Thank you for bringing me to the beach, regardless if you were busy with school or work. Thank you especially, for showing support and encouraging me to do the very best.

Though you were annoying and I have said things I didn’t mean, we’re siblings, and I still love you either way. I’m sorry I don’t have the courage to tell you this in person; I just don’t think I have the willpower to.

Thank you for loving me and making my life the best it could be regardless of our family’s wealth. I’m sure mother and father are proud to have you as a son. I’m proud of having you as a brother.

I love you my annoying older brother. Please never stop smiling, maybe stop being annoying, and definitely stop drinking out of the milk carton because that is disgusting.

You’re the best.

I love you,

and I’m sorry.”

He glanced back up to the area where he had seen the person in the wheelchair.

They weren’t there anymore.