As it turns out, there really isn't much places you can go to past midnight. Public transports stop working at 1 AM, shops close much earlier, and the city, albeit its liveliness, gets enveloped into a pleasant serenity. He likes it, it's why nighttime is the only time of the day where he gets to be himself. He'd lay in bed, overthinking every small detail of his mundane life, the little mishaps he had with others, the stupid things that come out of his mouth, and it keeps him awake till dawn. These were his initial plans for the night, but, in an ironic twist of events, he's glad his plans got ruined.

He's glad he's not alone right now.

They walk in comfortable silence, letting their feet lead the way with no particular destination in mind. He steals a glance at Chaeyoung. She's wearing his padded coat, looking like a small kitten covered in a giant warm blanket and smiles. It's adorable he thinks, but he'll never say it aloud. She notices his eyes on him and raises her brows.

"What?" she asks and looks at the coat she's wearing, her eyes widening in realization "Oh my god, I'm so sorry I just wore your coat, I- god, you must be cold, here—" she starts taking it off but Jungkook quickly reassures her that it's completely fine.

"I want you to wear it. I'd feel much better if you do." He says, pointing at it. She nods, a little smile playing at her lips as she adjusts it.

"For someone who's cynical about people, you're awfully kind." She remarks, hands tucked neatly in the coat's pockets. The wind was picking up speed at this time of night, but she couldn't be less bothered. She's always loved the cold, despite her getting the flu so often. She likes the feeling of the icy breeze brushing against her skin, gentle as an old love's touch but harsh as her everyday life.

"I'm not. Trust me." He replies with an awkward smile.

"You gave me your noodles, you stayed with me when I didn't want to be left alone, you offered me your coat and you listened to me blabbering even though you didn't have to. You did all this for someone you don't even know." She lists, her tone growing stronger with each point. "I'd say you're the best human I've ever met."

He shakes his head. "That's not true." He tries to mask his discomfort with an airy laugh, but Chaeyoung sees right through it and for some reason, it pains her.

"Do you always do this? Look down on yourself?" The question catches him off-guard.

"I'm not looking down on myself, I'm just looking at myself and what I am is not kind."

"Jungkook."

"I'm not." He presses, hoping she'd just drop it, but Chaeyoung was never one to give up.

"I beg to differ." She says

"Well, that's your opinion." He replies, a little too curtly.

She chuckles and moves a little closer to his side. She finds his presence calming, a familiar but long forgotten sense of peace coming down to her. Ironic how a stranger makes her feel more at ease than her own blood.

"What about me?" she asks

"What about you?"

"What's your opinion on me?" once again, she surprises him.

"We just met." He reasons

"Well, what's your first impression of me? Be honest." he can sense she's nervous about his answer, as if she's seeking his approval, which doesn't make sense. Strangers don't wait anything from strangers, so why is she looking at him in anticipation?

"Persistent—" her face drops and it makes him feel guilty instantly, but he's not done yet. So, with a kind smile he continues "but considerate. And understanding."

The look on her face is priceless. "Wow," she says airily "that's the nicest thing someone has ever said about me."

"You're pretty though, don't you get complimented all the time?" he shuts his eyes the moment he voices the question. Why did he let it slip, why why why. Damn he always says the wrong things. Stupid.

Chaeyoung snorts "You mean the creepy comments I get on the street all the time? Or the ones I get from guys at parties? 'Nice legs', 'fine ', 'you're a pretty little thing' yeah, I get those a lot."

Jungkook feels terrible. "I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"It's fine, Jungkook. Really. I know you didn't mean it that way." She reassures him with a smile that's somber more than anything. It makes him feel ever worse. "I just—I wish people cared enough about who I am rather than what I look like. No one gives a anymore. Or maybe they never gave a from the beginning." she stops, feeling herself getting heated again.

Jungkook looks around and realizes that they've walked for longer than he thought. They've reached a small deserted playground up on a hill that overlooks the suburbs down below, with broken slides and swings that are so worn out he can smell the rusty metal from afar. He slowly starts walking towards the short stone wall separating him from the rowdy and crowded slum houses down there. Chaeyoung, puzzled, follows right behind me.

She leans into the wall to look down and the sight suddenly makes her anxious. She takes a step back, which Jungkook notices.

"Something's wrong?"

She wraps her arms around her stomach. "High places bring back memories. The bad kind."

"Wanna talk about it?" he says as he slides down to sit on the ground, his back to the wall. He pats the spot next to him and she claims it, pulling her legs up to her chest. She doesn't start talking immediately and he understands. It's always hard to open up, sometimes even to yourself.

"I grew up with negligent parents. They never gave a about me, and they didn't give a about each other either. They were constantly cheating on each other. Mom would bring her boyfriends or hookups or whatever to the house when dad wasn't around. She didn't even care if I was there or not, she did whatever she liked." She lets out a raggedy breath "She'd screw them in her bedroom and then start crying about how unhappy she is with her marriage—" her breath is becoming shaky "and me. How completely miserable I made her." She pauses, then continues "I tried getting their attention a couple of times. I intentionally failed tests, got into petty fights, got myself suspended from school, but they couldn't care less. And during my last year in middle school, when they finally got divorced, it ing hurt. Somewhere in my head, you know, despite everything, I had hope that maybe things could change. I was so stupid." a few tears leave her eyes, and she wipes them aggressively, as if it disgusts her to show so much vulnerability, and maybe it does. "I was ignored at home, hated at school, a stranger to my family members, it was unbearable, so I'd go hide in the rooftop of my school and look down and spend hours trying to convince myself why I shouldn't end it all."

Dread washes over him, skin turning cold against his warm sweater. He tries not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he's only human. Compassion is part of being that, so he can't help it when his eyes start to get misty.

"I'm glad you talked yourself out of it." He manages to say.

"Yeah, but for what? For a life of throwing myself at guys hoping they'd give me the attention I've always wanted? Hoping that maybe mom and dad would finally come back to their senses and come ing find me and redeem themselves?" they both remain quiet for a minute, each of them trying to process the turmoil of emotions residing in them. He knows there are no words that can put her pain to rest, it's a weight she'll always carry on her back wherever she goes. You can't erase your past no matter how hard you try to evade it.

"It's always the parents." He whispers. "Always ing up their kids."

"Wanna talk about it? she throws his question back at him and it somehow makes him feel lighter.

"My dad was an alcoholic. He was not scared of a drink. He'd get wasted and come back late at night and—" he stops, feeling himself get teary again. "He'd say some nasty to mom and to me. I could never sleep at night because of him. His words kept me awake, and I was really scared of him." He shuts his eyes and wipes his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. "He passed away when I was 17 and when I turned 18, I left home to live alone. I couldn't stay in that house anymore. Every corner reminded me of him, and I couldn't stay with my mom. Looking at her hurt so much." His voice cracks then, and he feels a hand rubbing circles on his back soothingly, the touch keeping him grounded enough to continue. "I was so scared that I'd turn out like him, and I didn't want my mom to suffer again." He's full on bawling now, unable to hold it in anymore. He's never openly talked about this with anyone before. For years, he kept it all in and chose to stay alone away from others. Chaeyoung's arm is around his shoulder now, her hand gently running up and down his arm, her head resting on his shoulder, silently weeping. "He's always told me I'll never be anything, that I'm stupid and worthless. And I believe him. I really do. It makes sense you know, like father like son, right?" he sniffs and sighs heavily. "I tried to erase his existence from my memories, but I still feel him and I'm still terrified. I look at a bottle of beer and feel disgusted with myself that I want to drink it. I don't want to be like him but thoughts like this just make me believe otherwise. I'm so scared." The confession feels like a heavy weight gently being lifted off him. His face is a mess of tears and snot, and his throat hurts like hell, but it's the most at peace he's felt in a long time. It's liberating, and for once, he thinks—no, he believes that he's done the right thing.

Chaeyoung rubs her cheek on his shoulder, her hand gripping his arm firmly, and only then does he notice she was crying with him as well.

"You're not like him. You're nothing like him. You're a much better person." She whispers hoarsely.

He puts his head on top of hers, tired from all the crying and hugs her closer to him. "You're worth something in this world. Your existence isn't meaningless." He whispers back.

It all feels like a fairytale. How often do you come across a lonely soul like you, amid the dark, and find exactly what you need? Relief. He feels immense relief, something he hasn't tasted in forever. He knows this doesn't solve anything; their scars are meant to last until their last breath. That's how life is and that's how it'll always be. But sometimes, what you want isn't exactly what you need and what he truly needed was to allow himself to reach out. 

She probably feels the same, he thinks.

He isolated himself from the world and deprived himself from human connections. He thought he was protecting himself by doing that, but all along, he was making matters worse and things kept piling up till he couldn't bare it. And now, with Chaeyoung by his side, he thinks. He thinks many things all at once, but one thought comes clear:

Lonely hearts can never fully heal themselves, but they can slowly mend each other.

He doesn't know what the future might hold for them, he doesn't know if this is where their night ends, but he knows, right now, at this moment, together, in each other's arms, they'll be alright.

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And done! I wrote this as a short story to bring me back from my writing slump. I love the concept of two strangers helping each other out, it's so meaningful.

Anyway, this isn't much, but I hope you liked it ^^