Jungkooks POV:

I stumble through the streets with my voice blaring through the silent city air. My breathing becomes ragged, the blood flooding through my nose runs out unwanted, and thin; it doesn't help the situation seeing as I've had about all of the dirtiest drinks that the bar offered me, and my brain has gone completely fuzzy. 

I feel oddly light yet smashingly heavy at the same time. My entire body is in shambles, and through my temples to my knuckles, I feel spikes of pain stab through me entirely.
I should've just left it alone; never provoking anybody. But, God dammit how do I ignore that . 

I fall to the curb and the street lamps over head flicker above me, along with the interchanging red and green stop lights. Running my hands through my hair, and thinking about that prick makes me pull on the black locks. I only stop when I feel my scalp begin to sear in pain and I can sense that my knuckles have begun to turn white. 

I want to cry; not just from the pain of the many inflicted wounds dispersed all over my body, but because of the that I've had to deal with tonight. I hate myself, really. I'm genuinely a pathetic mess. I'm drunk off my , and I've already been in a bar fight tonight. But, I wouldn't have been if it wouldn't have been for him. . I'm suddenly spiteful. I just want somebody to yell and scream at; someone who will comfort me. I don't like living alone. It's scary.

The street light I'm sat under is flickering incessantly; bothering me. So, I stand up, but trip, suddenly not being able to find balance in my drunken state which angers me because I have no control over my own god damn body.
"AISH, what the HELL," I begin to drawl out to the best of my abilities. 

I realize that the place I'm in front of is a library that looks quite cozy. I consider entering it for a while and finally decide that I need to sit and think. Although, me going in the library at 10 pm is a little strange, but hey, they're open so they can't argue.

Bing!

I stumble in and upon doing so, I trip right onto my face scuffing it directly onto the carpet. It really hurt like hell, because I landed directly on my temple onto the door stop, and I kind of wanted to die right then and there. From mortifying embarrassment of anybody that may have seen, and because of the ridiculous pain coursing through my body.

"GgaRgh-hick-," I reply to the fall. My anger is swelling in my stomach, and it's begun to boil over now. The array of books in front of me pisses me off, just because, and I start to bash them. 

"ing-hyuck-bOoooks," I slur,"who even reaaaads?!" I yell directly at the book case.

I look around, and it's odd because I seem to be alone. But, I don't feel alone. I glance around more, and in the corner of the library lays a set of eyes peering back at me.

Two, soft, brown eyes. They're so.. gentle. So... welcoming. Is that what home feels like? Looking at them suddenly stirs up all of the angst, and anger, and desolate sadness in the pit of my stomach and I feel a lump begin to form in the back of my throat.

I don't know why, but I sob. I sob, harder than ever, and I fall to my knees desperately crying out for my mother. 
Nothing was holding me back at this point, and I wish that I never saw those eyes.