It smelled like hair dye when I entered the room.

When I switched on the light, I could see why.

In the sink, under the mirror Taehyung hit once in one of his outbursts, lay three white bottles. The whole sink was coloured in a mix of dark, nearly black, blue to a silver white.

I walked to the sink, took one of the bottles in my hand and starred at it. The rest of a baby blue coloured mixture was in it and before I realized it, I started to laugh. What did this idiot do to his hair this time? His mother would kill him, if she found out. Hopefully she’s not going to visit them in the next few weeks.

I placed the bottle back in the sink and stared at the mirror. Even there was blue colour. How did he manage to get it there?

Next to the bathtub lay his leftover cigarettes. Cold and burned down to the filter.

He told me once he would stop smoking since his mother nearly hit him a blue eye when she found out. But after one week he stormed out of the apartment, bought the cheapest pack of cigarettes I ever saw him with and smoked half of the pack at the bedroom window.

He had always problems to reach his goals.

I still remember, how he wanted to go to the gym regularly, but ended up laying on the couch, nachos on his tummy and the words “ it” on his lips a week later.

I switched the light off; this mess can wait until tomorrow, and walked over to the bedroom.

Even when the clock showed 2am, I knew he was still awake. He was always awake, waiting for me. And even though he always denies it and says that he just forgot the time, I knew he was waiting for me in the same spot as usual, smoking a cigarette, a beer next to him and eyes fixed on some objects outside the window. Outside of that big window, we bought this apartment for in first place. He would just sit there, watching how the cars passing and how the cute couple in the house next to us, in room 215, had a romantic dinner.

He had a cigarette between his lips when I sat down. Watching over to the couple who just shared some dessert. Disgustingly romantic.

I looked over to him when he let the smoke escape his mouth. He handed the cigarette to me, eyes still on the couple. His hair was really blue now. But not only blue. There were some silver white strands and in between some baby blue. It looked strange, but good. I could get used to it but I knew in two weeks would his hair change again.

I over his head.

“It looks great” I said.

“It didn’t came out like I wanted”

Of course not. It never comes out like he wants it to.

I chuckled softly and handed the cigarette back to him. It was better to ignore it. It’s always better to ignore it when he complained about his hair colour.

He looked over to me, a soft smile tucked on his lips “How was your day?”

“Like always, a little bit boring and stressful-“

“So you had a bad day?” he asked, inching closer as I took the bottle between my lips.

“It was, until I saw you” I smiled and he smiled back.

He took the bottle out of my hands and placed it on his lips, the halfway smoked cigarette somewhere out of my sight.

The couple long gone (probably moved the party to their bedroom) and long forgotten, when we emptied the bottle and a second one within the next ten minutes.

I played with one of the baby blue strands, as he attacked my throat with his lips. A low moan was to hear, but I couldn’t say who made that sound.

“Look at us. Two 19-year old boys making out in front of the window. Visible for the whole world” he laughed.

“Your mother would get crazy, if she found out”

“She doesn’t have to find out” he smiled against my throat.

We stayed like that for a few more minutes. My back rested against the glass, Taehyung in my lap and head thrown back to give him a better access when he moved his lips to my ear.

“We’re never going to be as cute and lovely as the couple in room 215, huh?” he whispered.

“Do you want to be as cute and lovely?”

“Never” he grinned, moving his hands up my shirt.

---

It smelled like sweat when I entered the room.

The washed out silver hair with some barely there blue strands bounced to the incredible weird looking dance moves he chose for a song like this.

The clock showed 4am and he was still awake. His eyes were closed, bangs sticking sweaty on this forehead, arms up in the air and mouth open to sing the next verse.

I smiled at the scene in front of me and when the song was over, he opened his eyes. After a short moment of shock, he began to smile again. He looked so happy. But his bloodshot eyes which screamed so loud at me and the empty bottle of vodka didn’t fit in the picture. Hell, we barely took the Vodka out to drink it.

But I ignored it, like always, because it is what he wants me to do. And I knew that he doesn’t want to talk about it. About how his mother called and how she yelled at him.

Why he’s dying the hell out of his once so healthy looking hair.

Why he doesn’t take college serious.

Why he moved in with me at the age of 19, because he was still so young and he could still find some cute little girl.

“Why do you throw your life so recklessly away?”

I could still remember the first time I saw those red, puffy eyes and how he screamed at me; hands in his back then lilac coloured hair, violently pulling on it.

“Go away, Jungkook! I don’t need your pity!” he screamed.

And that was the day I started to ignore it. Pretending to not see it when I came home and his eyes were red and puffy, because I knew that his mother called. And I knew he doesn’t want to talk about the cruel things she said this time.

So I smiled at him as I took my shirt off and headed to the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower. Want to join my, Hyung?” I asked while removing my belt.

Without thinking, he followed me, T-shirt already on the floor with his pants. I shook my head as he hugged me from behind, watching me searching for the right temperature.

Not too hot, since his skin was too sensitive. But not too cold, since he gets cold fast.

I turned around again, placing a soft kiss on his lips, before I hooked my thumps in the hem of his boxers.

“I love you, you know that Hyung, right?”

“Of course I do”

---

It smelled like smoke when I woke up the next morning.

Taehyung stood on the open window, cigarette in the hand and only in boxers. The wind tousled his hair. The blue and silver already washed away and replaced with cotton candy coloured hair. Slowly he blew out the smoke and stared to the sky. Hickeys from the last night already started to fade on his back.

I sat up, searching for my boxers I probably lost somewhere in between the kitchen and the bedroom, so I grabbed a pair from the closet and went to him. Arms around his waist and head on his shoulder.

“You’re already up?”

“Woke up a couple of minutes ago” he took the cigarette again between his lips, “look. The couple is already up, too”

I stared down. The women stood in the kitchen, cooking something, while her husband sat on the table with the newspaper in the hand.

That would probably be the life Taehyungs mother wishes for him. A normal life. A calm life. A life he could talk of without embarrass his mother.

A life with a part-time job to finance the apartment.

A good college student with a clean apartment and not with the Pizza from two nights ago in the sink and a ton empty cigarette packs all over the apartment.

And a good, healthy relationship; with a female human being who can cook.

“Do you want me to cook for you, Hyung?”

“Hell no! What when you burn the kitchen down? Again!”

“It was an accident!”

“Not gonna risk it”

I laughed and rested my forehead between his shoulders before my grip around his waist tightened and I suddenly felt the urge to cry.

“You’re still happy in this relationship, right? You still love me, Hyung, do you?” I swallowed back a sob, “Even when I have to work till 2am to finance this apartment and we slowly drowning in cigarette smoke and empty beer bottles, you still love me, right?”

He let the cigarette fall down on the street.

Hopefully no one’s passing by and got a burn from it. But then again, who cares?

With a last deep breath he closed the window, shutting the cold 7am-morning-air out and turned to me with a loud sigh.

“I’m happy the way things are, Kookie” he starred deep in my eyes, “And I don’t want to change a single thing. Stop thinking I would leave you. I’m not my mother, Kookie” and with that, he captured my lips in a long passionate kiss, holding my face with both of his hands, rubbing circles with his thumb on my cheeks and when the tears finally started to roll down my face, he started to kiss them away, causing me to cry even harder.

“I love you so much, Kookie. Don’t ever think I would leave you”.