Ubi Culpa, Ibi Timor

Where There's Guilt, There's Fear

Oliver stopped himself from taking a deep breath or moving at all. He didn't even allow himself to look at him, he simply looked ahead at the crying garden lit up with gray tones and sent a silent, grateful prayer for having the sudden idea of taking them here to speak. And continued on.

- For how long has your back been hurting? Mine started seven years ago. –

- About... seven years ago as well, I think. Well, I've had it forever, but it got worse when I was fourteen. –

So young to have things so heavy on his shoulders.

- Do you think it was your school bag? Always filled with heavy stuff? –

- Yeah. – He sighed. – But it wasn't only a school bag, it was more of a bag for everything. I'm still using the same one today. –

A "bag for everything" could mean that his pain was generated by more than just that. This makes sense because, if it was only a "school bag" then the pain would've been gone when he graduated, but it didn't, that's why he says he's still "using it".

- Sturdy? – Hard to take off?

- Yeah. - A beat of silence. Then he added, - What about yours? Or was it just age? –

- Maybe. But I think it was all those boxes I had to carry from my house to a truck and then again. –

- From when you moved here? –

- Oh no, I got here twenty-five years ago. These boxes had my son's stuff in them. – He had to stop... to swallow and take a breath.

- Jack. –

Oliver nodded, remembering that he had mentioned him to Jungkook before.

- Yes. – But he hadn't told him what happened.

- I didn't know he was old enough to move out. –

- ...he wasn't. – Oliver whispered.

In Oliver's eyes, in a loving father's eyes, their kids will never be "ready" to be gone.

And Jungkook's silence was too understanding for his liking.

The fact that his mind would've gone to the saddest outcome in an instant was somewhat worrying.

- ...A lot of heavy boxes, I take it. – Jungkook muttered, his voice gentle with grief.

- Yes, many. – Oliver swallowed again. – And yours? Were your boxes heavy when you moved here? –

- Not at all. I didn't even bring them; my parents decided to send them here before I arrived. But they're all here. I unpacked it all that first day, organized it so it would look good and tidy, and threw all the cardboard away, knowing all that stuff was staying where it was. –

Oliver frowned a little, trying to discern the reality from the metaphors they've been using. But maybe, even if it had all happened as he said, it could also be a metaphor for something deeper.

The fact that his parents sent his boxes for him could mean that he never had even a chance to start anew in this place. It could also mean his parents "control" his pain. Then the unpacking doesn't necessarily have to mean that he talked it out, not when he then said he organized it so it would look good and tidy. No, he organized everything so it would look like there's nothing wrong, like there's no pain, like there aren't boxes weighing on him because he had tossed the cardboard out and stayed with the stuff that was in them. And because it's his room, is also a metaphor for his heart; that he kept it all good and tidy so he himself wouldn't notice the pain in it.

- Did you leave more than you brought, though? –

Maybe leaving his house had helped...

- I don't think so. –

So the problem was not the house itself but the things that have a connection with the place. Maybe people. His parents.

- It would've been good to start anew, wouldn't it? –

- Yes... it would've. – Jungkook sounded distant for a moment as if he could actually see how it would've been, but couldn't touch that scene.

- ...maybe setting everything down took a toll on your back. – Maybe not putting his foot down and starting over however he could, had hurt him as much as everything else.

- Yes, it must've. Because it's been hurting more and more every day. –

He knows what hurts him. He feels guilty that he hadn't done something to stop it all.

But...

- Don't your friends know a remedy that could help you? –

- I don't know if they do, I haven't told them about it. –

- Don't you think you should? If it's hurting you, it's hurting them. –

He dropped a bit of the metaphor to ask outright. And the bareness of the conversation seems to startle Jungkook a bit.

- ...I...I don't know, I just... I've tried, but their reactions weren't really--... I'm afraid they'll tell me that every guy has to deal with their pain alone and stuff. That's what everyone always says anyway. –

Does every guy deal with similar pain in their heart? If so, Oliver wouldn't be able to rest.

- ...do you think your friends have the same back pain? –

If they do, they could be there for each other.

- I don't know. We don't talk about that. Back pain it's been so normalized since we're at school that it's even joked about. But it sometimes doesn't let me sleep at night. Or dream at all. –

It took a second before Oliver could answer. If none of them talk about their problems then the burden would be too much to bear alone someday.

A way to tell him that he needs someone to rely on, that he needs a friend to talk to; a metaphor for that...

- I've found that a bag of warm water helps with the pain, have you tried it? –

Warmth...Friendship...

Jungkook sighed, sliding a bit down the bench.

- Yeah. But sometimes, the warmth is too mild, so I heat up the water until it's boiling. However... even if the back pain is gone, now the burns of putting the pot out of the fire ache instead, so I have to use ice to cool it down. I'm in a constant dance between hot and cold, unable to find the balance between these two extremes. –

If warmth meant friendship, then hot water meant something more. The pot burning him might mean that the physical part of this relationship pains his body or that this deep relationship started physically and stopping it's what hurts him. Having to use ice to cool it down means he has to be cold in order for these "burns" to be kept at bay. However, this last part is confusing.

If it hurts him, why doesn't he have friends instead of lovers?

- Why does the water have to be hot for the pain to be gone? –

- 'Cause I don't even want to think about it. As you heard, I put ice over it, but no ointments. I try to leave the burning there just a bit more just so it would be the only pain I feel. –

It does hurt him, but he does nothing to stop his pain. Instead, he conceals it from others. He seeks other kinds of pain to distract him from the one that matters most. He seeks peace that comes from hurting over someone whom he shares heated moments with and hurts when he has to leave them because he knows what he'll be going back to; that room filled with all that hurts him.

So, it's not necessarily physical pain but the pain of not being with that person which burns hot and hurts him.

But, if he prefers to hurt for the longing he has for that person instead of the pain of his past, what would that mean?

- I wonder, does that mean you prefer the superficial pain of a burn rather than the deeper one of back pain? –

- I would prefer no pain whatsoever, but if I can only pick between the two, I'll pick the superficial pain on any day. You just put a bandaid on it and forget about it until it heals on its own, but a back pain? That's woven in the muscles; in the very bones. I think mine is so deep it'll have to be surgically removed, and I'm not ready for that. –

He doesn't know how to heal on his own so he's forced to search for other kinds of pain to divert his attention at least for a moment. The pain is so deep that it has become a part of him; something he deals with on a daily basis since he said it was woven into his muscles and bones. And the bandaid, it must mean that, deep down, he knows this painful longing he feels will not be forever and that it will, with time, fix itself.

Meaning that the pain in his bones will not fix itself, but that he's also not ready to pull himself apart to get free from it.

Maybe it was the desperation of having a distraction that drove him to seek someone else. Or... maybe it was the other way around and he was the one who the other one found.

- Has somebody else told you that hot water helped quicker? –

- They didn't really tell me, they... showed it to me. Neither of us knew it would help with the back pain though. But now we both get free from it, if only just for a moment. However,... I think it's made us depend on each other a bit too much. –

So, they both found each other. One thing led to another, so, it wasn't that they intentionally sought that physical distraction, it simply became that way. But now the distraction seems to have gone out of hand and they can only find peace in each other which can also become a problem.

Oliver sighed.

- It would be far better if you learned a safer way to get rid of your back pain. Burns are not better off than aching bones and, if you two keep on burning each other, you'll hurt the same person you're depending on. If you keep on ignoring the consequences of each superficial pain, you might strike deeper than you thought and hit a nerve, causing some serious damage. Maybe even making you unable to keep on walking. And you must always keep on walking. –

It seems like he himself hit a nerve. But he can't say that he's sorry; not when Jungkook opened the doors to a whole new perspective.

- ...I know. We know. But ignoring the pain doesn't work anymore. And let's be honest... no one takes back pain seriously. – His voice saddened as the flowers dropped. - When you're young, they see you so flexible they think you're unbreakable and they try to mold you even when you don't fit, saying they know better, that they know more, that the pain will go away if only we stopped focusing on it. We might not even fit the clothes they clothed us in but still, even if our collars are asphyxiating, we're expected to lift the weight of the future they wrote for us without any complaints. In their eyes, we're so ungrateful to the ones that gave us life every time we complain we're living that they tell us to stop talking. And stop talking I did. Ask anybody, hardly any soul can tell you if my shoes are too big or if my coat is too tight on the neck; no one even knows my bag is heavier than it looks. –

- And the most messed up part is... That, just like me, there are many, many more. My own roommate has so much chest pain that he's always hunched, with his head down and quiet, unable to speak because not enough air gets in. But we never talk about it, even if he hardly speaks. I've tried to speak about my own discomforts to my two friends but neither knew what to do with the rock I had suddenly dropped in their hands. So I stopped. I've realized time and time again that I'm much better at helping others with their pain but, when it comes to myself, I do not know how to voice it. It has been quiet sounds for so long, pained noises in the dark–... Everything about it discomforts me. Trying to talk about it, discomforts me. That it is even there, discomforts me. So, I try to seek comfort elsewhere, anywhere. –

- But I understand why I can't speak it, even to my friends. We were told to shut it. We were told to tough it out. So, who's going to willingly speak about the pain in their back, in their chest, in their throats, or the tightness of their clothes, their shoes, their coats, when there's a collective belief that only ungrateful and weak people complain about those things? We believe that the other is going to judge us so much that we lie to impress, and then leave and feel lonely and depressed. So, I found somebody, in the deepest and loneliest corners of this place. Someone who listened and, instead of giving me advice, gave me comfort. Because I needed that. And they needed that. And we hide because we, just like anybody else, are afraid of being judged for needing healing from the pain in our backs. –

- It's really no surprise to me that we began speaking of a physiological problem and ended up speaking of psychological problems that arose from sociological ones. But really... one problem is like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, creating hurricanes strong enough to tear down the capital itself. I'm not surprised. –

He'd just said so many things; describing various layers and levels of pain and many more hints of much deeper icebergs that he let see. Oliver was in awe at the information, the honesty, and, much more: The aggravating tiredness as he spoke.

The back pain, the tight clothes, the heavy bags, the lungs unable to take a deep breath, and the mold he couldn't fit in, were all used so cleverly. But they only saddened the grown man.

- You carry too much. –

Jungkook sighed.

- You have no idea. –

Just like nobody else has no idea. Because, even if he trusted him enough to tell him all of this, the fear of judgment and rejection is still there.

- What about Taehyung? Does he have any idea? –

He wanted to ask because, through all of what he said, he mentioned his parents, his friends, his roommate, and the girlfriend he burns with to take the pain away, but what about his new friend? Or was he just another one of "Them", trying to shove him into a mold he doesn't fit?

Or was he something even worse? Something that made Jungkook have to scream to make him stop?

Oliver begged every drop of rain for Jungkook to answer and take away his growing worries. But his silence was unnerving him with every second that passed.

In the end, it was too much for Oliver to bear, and he turned his head to look at him.

- Is Taehyung really a friend of yours? -

But only now was he able to see that his features had hardened, looking straight at the garden with dull eyes on the edge of anger. He was indeed seated wrong, with his rear too close to the edge of the seat and his back curved inwards, one leg bent to place his foot on the bench. As if he didn't have enough strength to sit up straight.

Oliver was just debating whether he should ask again or stay silent when Jungkook sighed very deeply, sounding very disappointed. And then asked,

- Did someone tell you to ask that? – His voice was as cold as the air around them. He even looked betrayed.

The grown man was taken aback.

- What do you mean? –

- I mean... If someone told you to ask me about Taehyung. Or if someone asked you to talk to me at all. - His voice was as calm as before, but there was still an edge to it.

As if asking for Taehyung had made him think that he, Oliver, did not care about anything but this one subject.

- No, my boy. I've hardly talked to anyone since the start of classes. – He answered just as calmly and straightened his head again to look at the flowers. – And, even so, I've hardly heard any other teacher speaking about him. Do you think someone has been talking badly? –

And if so... what would they be saying?

- No, not badly. Just talking. And not the teachers but the headmaster. –

Oliver refrained from frowning too deeply at the sudden mention of his father. And the coldness of it.

- I haven't spoken to Yungsoo either. What's worrying you, my boy? Why would the headmaster talk to me about Taehyung? -

- Because they're friends. -

Oliver blinked in utter surprise. Hadn't Taehyung looked menacing when he said Evans was Yungsoo's best friend? Was there a rivalry he never thought of? But before he could ask, Jungkook added,

- And he told him to keep an eye on me. -

That sounded even worse.

- ...Why would he ask that of him? –

- Because of the fight I had last Tuesday. That's why my lip got cut. –

Oliver's heart missed a beat and he turned his head the other way, nodding slowly to calm himself down. But he couldn't help the sigh that escaped him.

Superficial pain.

- Why would you get yourself into a fistfight? –

- Frustration. Anger. Ego. Desperation, power, solitude. You know I've been fighting since I was fourteen. –

Seven years ago.

- That's why your back hurts so much. –

- No. – He said simply, but with a finality that made Oliver blink. – I fought because my back ached. –

Superficial pain over bone-woven pain.

- All for a drop of peace. – It doesn't seem worth it to Oliver.

- Yes. – Jungkook answered, anyway.

- Instead of looking at the root of the problem and working yourself through it. –

- ...just like putting a bag of warm water on your back instead of changing the bed that's forcing you into a bad position. –

As easily as ever, Jungkook had turned the mirror around and showed him that they were the same.

- I'm not hurting myself or my image. –

Which was exactly what Jungkook was doing. Hurting himself physically and showing others a side of himself that he's not; bad enough to make his father appoint a teacher to... keep an eye on him?

- I guess you're right on the second part. – Jungkook said.

- So, Taehyung was told to keep an eye on you so you wouldn't hurt yourself or others. –

Jungkook scoffed.

- Of course not. It was to keep me from staining this university's image. –

Alright, now he understands a bit about why Jungkook's friend would call it a toxic friendship. But why would they call it a friendship if it wasn't? And why would the other two believe it is?

Oliver had heard enough to know Jungkook's pain runs deep and he seeks distraction in physical pain or moments of adrenaline, but he's yet to know about Taehyung and Evans or even his parents, and what these grown-ups do that weighs on his back. He needs to know. He has to help him.

- But a friendship grew from it, didn't it? Because you've been over to his apartment a lot and stayed long into the night. I even had the impression that you trusted him and that he cared for you. –

Oliver turned to look at him again and found him tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling with glossy eyes. But his expression continued to be mildly angry.

Why, Jungkook? Why would you look like you want to cry when talking about Taehyung?

Oliver's worries haven't been dissipated, not one bit.

- Sort of. Yeah. – Jungkook muttered and then looked back down.

He wasn't giving anything away.

- And what about Evans? – Jungkook blinked as if startled and Oliver continued. – I still don't know what happened between you two. –

Jungkook pursed his lips, tightened his jaw, and tilted his head back enough to rest it against the back of the bench. Then, he saw him gulping as he looked straight to the ceiling.

- Nothing. I just don't like him. I don't even know him. –

It was not nothing. Oliver knew for a fact that it was an awful deal that could render Jungkook shaking on the floor with his knees to his chest after having just experienced a panic attack at the mere sight of the man. He'd seen with his own eyes the anger flaring in Evans' features when looking down at Jungkook, he'd seen the fear in the boy's shoulders and demeanor, he'd seen how one command from Evans had turned Jungkook into a silent, obedient child. And, most of all, he'd heard Alexander saying clearly that he had known Jungkook since he was born, so Jungkook does know him, and he had known him all his life.

Why, then, was he acting like he doesn't? Why does he get tongue-tied? He could've just answered a simple "nothing", but he chose to say that he doesn't know him, why?

Oliver had known Evans since he came to the university about ten years ago and had never heard a single complaint about him. They never spoke because the kind of people Evans liked to surround himself with was nothing like him, but he knew that nearly everyone knew this teacher. A strong character, tough in the classroom, dedicated to his job, and very charismatic. The best friend of the headmaster.

However, even if he was behaving like a strict teacher disappointed in his student every time Jungkook was around, it was Jungkook's behavior that suggested something much more sinister had occurred.

And the worst part was that Oliver somehow finds it similar when Jungkook spoke about Evans... and Taehyung.

He had tilted his head back on both occasions, looking unseeingly up at the ceiling, answered noncommittal responses, and talked more flatly than before.

And that shout... "Stop!"

Oliver frowned as he looked at Jungkook, debating what to say next. But then Jungkook turned his head to the other side, pushing the neck of his coat down with the movement, and allowing a clear view of the beginning of what appeared to be... a...

He'd known what it was since they stopped by the doors to the Professors' living area, but now he's actually seen it.

Oliver turned his head stiffly to look unseeingly at the rain and forced his voice to remain calm as he said,

- Alright then. On another note, though, I did notice you look quite tired. When was the last time you visited your other friend? The one that helps you with your back pain. -

He felt Jungkook sitting up slowly, maybe even resting over the leg he had folded, hugging it. And waited for another while for him to answer.

The stretches of silence seemed off to Oliver. Jack used to do the same ones before answering short sentences that he now knows had been lies. All those times he said "nothing" or "I'm fine" hunted Oliver today more than any other, with Jungkook being the one he talked to.

- Earlier today. – He answered at last.

And Oliver frowned.

- Didn't you say you had Taehyung's class earlier today? –

- Yes, but that was until ten o'clock. –

- ...Don't the first years have another class at ten-fifteen? –

- I think so. Yeah. –

- You're not sure? –

- I haven't been to that class once. –

Oliver wanted to roll his eyes in exasperation but also grab him and make him tell him what was wrong. What was his "back pain" about, who was to blame, and why, that's what he wanted to know and what had him so worried.

- So... you missed that class to meet your friend. And then went to Taehyung's? –

- Yeah. –

- Can I ask why you went to Taehyung? – He asked it carefully so as to not arouse another reaction like before. And saw a glimpse of him folding the other leg up and close to him as well so he would be hugging both against his chest.

- ...I was feeling...too much. And he knows how to make me focus. –

Make him focus? Like Evans makes him obedient?

- What were you feeling? – He nearly whispered, turning his head to look at him.

Jungkook rested a cheek against a knee and looked at the line of trees in the distance.

- ...Vertigo. – He muttered.

- You feel like everything's moving too fast? –

- Not exactly. More like... I didn't know I had a rope pulling me until it pulled me right off a cliff. –

Oliver's breath hitched.

- And do you feel like you're getting closer to the ground? Or... are you there already? –

Please don't...

Jungkook sighed.

- I've no idea. Everything's pitch black, I can't see if there's an end or not. Sometimes, when I'm burning, I don't feel the air hitting my face, so I don't feel the caving in my chest or the heavy rocks at my back weighing me down. Sometimes I even feel like I'm flying... and nothing's wrong, and everything will be right, and we're going to conquer everything... and that I will indeed be able to live in that peaceful home I've dreamed about... But then I open my eyes to that darkness around me and the vertigo is there all over again. –

What could Oliver do to help him? What? What?

- Is this the first time you feel like this? –

- Not at all. –

- And what did you do to those last times to not... reach the bottom? –

- ...stupid things. –

- ...Like what? –

- Like getting into fistfights or missing classes. –

Which was exactly what he was doing now. Oliver frowned down at his lap, thinking.

- Something else aside from that? – No judgment in his tone, just softness.

- ...Jumping out of my window at night every now and then. –

- To do what? – His eyes widened. But Jungkook spoke as neutrally as ever.

- To walk around. When I couldn't sleep or I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, I would just go and walk in the city, just trying to find anything that might take my mind off. Many times, I ended up slipping into some party just to be surrounded by people... Because it was simply that. I just wanted to find people. To be surrounded by people. To feel like they could see me and hear me and... To feel human. –

That... had been exactly...Jack's torment.

Oliver felt a sudden, throat-ripping lump raising, felt his tight lips trembling and the corners moving down, and, just when he turned his head away, his vision blurred as a tear rolled down his cheek. It had all been so swift and quick, but then he was able to control himself again and dry his face discreetly. After, he cleared his throat, swallowed, and spoke up.

- You... - His throat closed up, but he tried again. – You usually don't feel like a person? –

- ...no. – Jungkook sighed. – I told you I grew up surrounded by books, not by people, didn't I? –

Oliver didn't know what to say. But he was spared the need to search for words when Jungkook scoffed humorlessly.

- I don't know what made you wish to speak with me so suddenly and about such depressive matters. But, if you say it wasn't because of someone else's orders, then I'll have to believe your tale of wholehearted worry, won't I? Even if it sounds unlikely. -

Oliver frowned deeply.

Where...Where does this coldness come from? As fast as the click of a button, his demeanor changed to the guy his father spoke of when just minutes before he'd been opening his heart. What happened?

- What is it that makes you doubt me so much? - Oliver asked. - Has that many people approached you just because they were following orders? -

- You'll be surprised. - Jungkook muttered sourly. - I do doubt you. But I doubt many people so it's nothing personal. It would only be personal when you betray the trust I'm currently trying to place upon you. -

This was all so sudden that Oliver looked sideways at him. Doubting many things himself.

Maybe speaking of why he didn't feel like a person to someone he usually doesn't speak with, truly hit a nerve. A nerve that has to do with trust.

- Have many people betrayed you? -

Jungkook's eyelids closed just enough to make the glint of the light leave his eyes.

- You'll be surprised. - He answered again.

Oliver took a deep breath, accepted the probability that this was a far meaningful topic than they've ever spoken of, and said to the flowers, as meaningfully as he could,

- I promise you that I want to speak about this with you. Because I care very much about you, my boy. And, just so you know, I've never betrayed anybody, so, as much as I don't want to do it to anybody, I don't even know how to do it. -

This last sentence lightened the atmosphere a bit, letting Jungkook sigh greatly but not heavy with exhaustion.

Then he answered.

- Alright. - His voice went back to the soft murmuring that came when he spoke of something meaningful to him. And he hugged his legs tighter still.

- So... Could you tell me about it? About how you were surrounded by... books. - He was careful as he walked over this ice he'd come to know was thinner than he thought.

But his careful tone seemed to have done it.

He sighed again, this time as heavy as the previous one had been not.

- I was mostly surrounded by objects; toys, books, furniture, and closed doors. At school, it was all but the same; no one would listen to me, no one would treat me like a person, they would simply treat me like a broken thing that should've worked out like my brother and sister did. – His tone hardened. – I would go home and be alone. The maids would be working, the butlers would be working, and I would hardly see them, or talk to them even if they were the only people at the house. I would be alone–alone.. - He repeated himself as if trying to convince someone. - And then my parents would get home once every god knows how long and be angry that I'm not grateful and excited for their magnificent visit. I... am not allowed to get angry. – His voice got vacant but cold like the stone of a grave.

Oliver couldn't even stop him, he had no idea what to do other than to act like nothing was happening. Like he wasn't hearing him coming apart at the seams. To listen to him and do nothing but feel his worry mounting and mounting, just waiting for the volcano to erupt.

But also... chills ran down his spine... just wondering if Jack had ever felt the same.

- They wanted good grades, good manners, good attitude, and gave nothing but things in return. Things and things, cold, lifeless things. My mother would hardly ever hug me, my father would hardly ever smile genuinely at me. Oh... Oh but I start to show physical signs that something's not right and they instantly get worried don't they? – Oliver swallowed. – It was the stupidest thing ever. – He laughed. – We moved to Bradford and leaving my only two friends behind had taken the appetite from me. That was when I was like thirteen or something. Yes, they got worried. And we went to family therapy, can you believe it? Oh, yes, everything's fine now, we love each other. Oh, look, the best Christmas of my life, and the last I ever had like that. -

- But something did change. They learned that what I wanted most was love from my family. And they use it. - His voice went cold as stone again. - Like last Tuesday. I was taken to my father's office and he gave me such a scolding... but then said it was all because he loved me, you see? – Oliver's eyebrows pulled tightly together, his breathing becoming uneasy. – I hate it when they say that. – Jungkook's voice darkened. – I hate how much I believe it, how much I need it, how much I sink back into that little five-year-old who craved it or that eight-year-old who begged for it or that fourteen-year-old who took it as fact and has never changed his mind. Because I don't believe them one bit... but when they say it, I do. When they're right there in front of me and they say it, I believe them as if I've been drugged. And I nod. And then I walk out and the charm is broken again. - ...he was crying now. – I'm telling you that I know they don't love me but then I think about it... and I have no idea what to say. You can ask me if I think they do and I'll tell you that they do, but I'll be doubting it. I doubt everything that comes to them. Because they're strangers to me. But they're my parents. So I don't know them, but they must love me... don't they? I hate this. –

Oliver's lips trembled as he cried, and heard him cry. When was the last time he'd seen a young man crying or opening his heart like this? When was the last time he'd heard a young man saying all they want is to be loved? When was the last time he himself had cried out in the open, unable to stop the tears from falling?

The day Jack reached the bottom of his own cliff.

Oliver's heart lurched, his eyes widened, and he did something he's never done before. He turned around in his seat and embraced this boy tightly to his chest.

Jungkook was curled up in a ball, but he embraced him wholly. One arm around his shins, the other around his back, and Jungkook's breathing stopped. But he began to tremble as if holding back greater feelings than before.

Oliver could not find it in himself to simply leave Jungkook, not after what he'd said. Not after the fear had taken hold of him.

- Come on, my boy. – He muttered as he looked unseeingly down at the floor. – I'll give you some tea. –

And he let go of him and stood up, taking his briefcase with him.

Jungkook stood up a beat later, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and looking weak as he reached down to take his bag. But then Oliver took the bag from his hand, put the strap over his shoulder, and placed a hand on Jungkook's back, gently pushing him onwards.

The journey back had been smooth with hardly any person crossing their path. But it hadn't been particularly peaceful.

Every time Oliver turned to look at the silent boy beside him, he seemed much more worried than before. Jungkook's eyebrows would pull up in question or down in a frown as he looked unseeingly at the floor and followed mindlessly. It appeared that he was having a serious mental debate, but one that was befuddling him with every second that passed.

Once they got to the second floor of the Professors' living area, Jungkook finally looked up. But to see Taehyung's door with a pinch in the middle of his forehead.

Oliver didn't know what to make of that stare. If it was worry or fright or even longing; if Jungkook wanted Taehyung to "help him focus" or if he wanted to get away. So, the grown man gently wrapped his arm around him and guided him towards his own door. However, when he felt Jungkook's upper arm stiffening and saw him tensing up, he gently let go as if he needed to so as to take his keys and open the door.

He stepped aside to let Jungkook pass, but, once again, he looked worriedly at the inside of his apartment. Could that be apprehension? Was he fearing something would happen inside? Maybe he was thinking of when his father appointed Taehyung to keep an eye on him and he had taken him to his own apartment on the other side of the corridor, and he feared Oliver would end up being like "them", the ones that wanted to fit him on a mold by force.

He had seen his eyes for only one second, and then he decided what Jungkook needed was a quick reminder of who he was with.

- You're welcomed into my apartment, my boy. Come on in. - He said gently and with a nod.

Jungkook looked at him, gave him a tightlipped smile, and entered with stiff legs.

As Oliver saw him, a lump rose in his throat. The fear Jungkook was displaying was anything but normal, and he was so worried his attempts to help him would backfire terribly.

He knew now, after having thought of all the things Jungkook had said before, that his willingness to help was nothing if he didn't know how to do it. Therefore, after talking to Jungkook, he'll go and seek help. This was just to take enough information so he knew what he needed.

Oliver left the door open and his briefcase where he had been seated at the head of the table, then left Jungkook's bag on the place beside it and told him to look around while he prepared the tea. He put the glass pot with water on the stove, took the glass container with rosebuds and the one with mint leaves, and, with a small wooden spoon, served two spoonfuls of each on the upper part of his glass tea infuser. Then, after putting the containers back in their places and placing two glass cups on the counter, he looked up to see what Jungkook was doing. But he was doing nothing.

Jungkook was indeed looking around the place, but he was leaning back against the edge of the table with his arms hugging his middle like he had been hugging his legs minutes before. He seemed to be biting his lip inside his mouth as his eyebrows stayed tensed over his roaming eyes. He didn't even seem focused enough to attempt to make small talk or even to remember that he had once told him how unfortunate it was that he couldn't accompany him to his apartment so he could see his wide book collection. He simply seemed to wish he wasn't even there. As if he deeply regretted having lost his cool and opened up to him just now.

Oliver's jaw tightened and he turned around to take the pot out of the fire with a cloth so as to not burn himself. He served the warm liquid where the tea leaves waited and, once the water turned a light brown color, he pushed the glass teapot beneath the infuser so the tea would fall. As that happened, he walked over to the table and placed the cups on the other side of where he had his paperwork, loud enough to grab his attention. Jungkook turned around, (thankfully, not having been startled), and rounded the table to sit beside the head of the table. Without being able to look up from the floor.

Once the teapot rested over a cloth on the table and their cups were filled, Oliver tried to reach a middle ground.

- Do you know why I brought you here? -

Even if his voice had been as gentle as ever, Jungkook frowned down at his cup.

- For... tea? -

Oliver gave him a sympathetic little smile even if he wasn't looking.

- And to talk. -

- ...didn't we talk already? -

He was trying to evade it. Maybe for the shame of having shown his feelings too much.

- Not nearly enough, my boy. -

- Enough for what? - He asked as calmly as he could before taking a sip from his drink.

- Enough so I know how to help you. -

- Help me with what? - He slowly placed his cup back down, looking more and more like a grown, serious man in a meeting.

Something Oliver was trying to keep him from; locking his emotions away.

- With everything that's hurting you or has ever hurt you. -

Jungkook nodded down at the table and looked up, but not to him, over at the bookshelves and the tall windows.

- I said it before and I'll say it again, this sudden selflessness seems too odd for me. Nothing personal. - He muttered, sliding a bit down the chair he sat on.

Oliver frowned.

- How so? -

- ...What happened for you to suddenly decide you wanted to speak to me so badly? - Oliver's breathing stopped for a moment. - All this past week you could've stopped me as you did downstairs, but even after looking at me with a brand new cut on my lip, you still went on to teach your class. What happened for you to suddenly decide talking to me was more important than your work? - He finally turned to look at him and his red-rimmed eyes were serious and focused; looking right into his own gray ones. - It seems off to me. It even feels fake. -

Could it be that he should've stopped Taehyung from taking him to his apartment that day when he saw Jungkook with a cut on his lip? Could it be that he was now resenting him for showing interest only after something had happened just like he had said his parents had done?

Perhaps those were the thoughts his mind had come up with on their way here. But why only on the way here?

- You could've come to this same resolution before we went out to the garden, what changed? -

Jungkook shrugged, the corners of his mouth looking down just like his eyes looked at his cup.

- I did think of it, before, during, and after. But I just can't shake the strangeness away anymore. I've said too much and I'm worried about what your motives are. Because it seems you didn't just want to talk, you wanted to fix something, and I don't appreciate being looked at like something that needs fixing. So, tell me what got you so worried all of a sudden. And don't lie. -

Now he could see the difference between when Jungkook's triggered and when he's reached a limit. When they were in the garden, he got triggered and his mood changed quite abruptly. However, now, he was speaking as calmly as before, if only a bit tense. Maybe these were the "quick changes in mood" that Yungsoo had mentioned before, and the ones he said were the reason why he didn't know how to approach his son. And Oliver could see it, Jungkook could change his attitude if he's triggered or scared, and, if his father was one of the reasons for his pain, there would be little conversation between them without Jungkook feeling it too odd to be true.

So, Jungkook needed the truth.

Oliver took a deep breath, took a drink, and then told him as calmly as he could while looking at his eyes.

- I had a nightmare last night. - Jungkook blinked, not expecting something like this. - I remembered what happened to my son... and I've been worried all day long. Generally. Worried about every student in this university, worried about my own, worried about how they felt and what could be hurting them. Worried that any of them could be reaching their limits. So, I had lunch in the cafeteria and ended up seating a table away from where your friends sat. - Jungkook's eyebrows pulled up. - There were three, a girl with long, red hair, a strong boy with black hair, and a leaner one with blond hair. And I heard them talking about you. -

- What did they say? -

Guarded. Apprehensive. Worried. Scared. Jungkook was in such a constant state of fear that it was a miracle he could still have enough backbone to stand tall whenever he wanted to. But this miracle was not to be celebrated when it could as well have been a curse.

Oliver weighed his words and his options, wondering if it would be too much for Jungkook if he heard that his friend said Taehyung's friendship was untrue.

- Well, the girl asked if they knew where you were and the blond one said that, if you weren't in class, then you were with Taehyung. - He left it at that to feel the ground a bit.

Jungkook turned his head and squinted his eyes at him.

- And what could be worrying about that? You know he's helped me before. -

Once again, the mention of Taehyung brought with it a defensive attitude. As if talking about this particular man was a way more delicate conversation than talking about Evans. But why?

Oliver didn't have time to question, however, when Jungkook looked up as if remembering something and his eyes closed in exasperation.

- Let me guess, the one with the black hair reacted badly, didn't he? -

It wasn't really a question. And Oliver felt taken aback.

- Yes. He even said your friendship with him was toxic but I couldn't hear why. - He decided on telling the truth because, in reality, he was now heavily confused. This reaction seemed at odds with his friend's serious claims.

But Jungkook laughed humorlessly as he shook his head and tilted it back to look up at the ceiling.

- Ah, Leo... He worried you for nothing. And you took his words too seriously. Leo's never liked Taehyung. -

Oliver's not one to have many friends, and so, he knows the importance of what a third viewpoint who has one's best interest at heart could bring. Friends are honest with their thoughts. And if Jungkook has a friend (who he's known since he was twelve), and that friend made the allegation that Taehyung was not Jungkook's friend, then there should be a reason far beyond jealousy.

He had called it toxic. And that word is not to be used lightly.

- Why doesn't he like him, do you reckon? - Oliver still felt heavily confused. Because the girl should've also been part of the two friends Jungkook said he left behind when he was little, but even she seemed surprised at the black-haired outburst. Just like Jungkook's reaction suggested that it was indeed nothing to be worried about.

Things weren't matching well. And then Jungkook shrugged, helping Oliver catch something on the movement.

He has tensed again. Maybe he does know why his friend has these feelings, it would match well with the scrap of strong character Oliver had seen at the cafeteria. This guy would've told Jungkook in an instant why he doesn't like Taehyung. But Jungkook doesn't seem to like his reasons, as if they struck a chord too deep inside him that made him tense over. As if somewhere in him he's aware of how much truth lies in his friend's words and still refuses to acknowledge it.

- He doesn't like teachers. -

Was his simple, short sentence answer. Ready to dismiss the conversation as if it was nothing when, for Oliver's observing eyes, it was everything but.

Maybe another push would help him open up, like downstairs in the gardens. So, Oliver did something he knew was reckless and tried to push the walls around Jungkook a bit.

- ...Just like you don't like people who resemble your father? -

But it'd been the wrong thing to say.

Instead of taking a deep breath, Jungkook froze over. Making Oliver freeze as well, waiting for what would come.

But then Jungkook frowned up at the ceiling and muttered,

- What do you mean? -

Oliver frowned as well. He thought he'd been as clear as Poopy had been that night. Maybe he should be clearer?

- I'm talking about how you don't like people who resemble your father, Jungkook. - It seemed terribly odd to have to remind him of something like this. It seemed terribly odd the route this conversation had taken.

But most terrible was his answer. A question.

- Who said that? - He muttered, looking genuinely confused but also heavily tense.

Oliver felt startled. He looked to the other side of the room with open eyes, unable to believe the truthful confusion in Jungkook's words. Because they had both been there that night. Jungkook had been conscious when Poopy had said it, he had even answered her questions.

Oliver turned his head back towards him, but Jungkook was in the same position with the same expression looking at the high, white ceiling.

He didn't want to have to ask this... But Jungkook's demeanor was starting to frighten him.

- Don't you remember that Poopy said it? In Taehyung's apartment? -

Slowly, Jungkook straightened up in his chair and turned to look at him with the same frown.

- I don't know any Poopy. - Oliver stopped breathing. - I think you're confused. - Jungkook shook his head, completely believing his own words.

It was like someone had pulled the rug from beneath Oliver's feet. He'd thought this was a case of childhood pain that needed healing with care, not...

Jungkook wasn't lying. He wasn't trying to divert the conversation. He believed what he said. Even if what he said was not true at all.

It was as if Oliver could actually hear the cracking of glass inside his own mind. Could this be... Could this be even worse than he thought?

Could Jungkook have suffered so much pain once that it had broken something in his brain?

Oliver tried to remain calm but it was hard with the chill that was now running through him.

- Alright... Maybe I am... - He nodded a bit and tried to drink from his tea, but not even roses and mint could calm him down. – But–... - He just couldn't drop it, he couldn't pretend. – Do you really not remember that night at all? – He just wanted to make sure.

- What night? - Jungkook frowned as if he was starting to piss him off.

- The night that he helped you. - Oliver answered at once, trying not to widen his eyes. - The night that he allowed you to sleep in his apartment because of what happened. - He had thought Jungkook had referred to that night when he mentioned Taehyung helping him before. But it appeared that he had only meant: Helping him by "making him focus".

But Jungkook's eyebrows pulled down in the middle while looking at him as if he had gone crazy; as if he was purposefully trying to confuse him. He was starting to get angry, to feel as if Oliver was making fun of him somehow. He grimaced and shook his head slowly.

- What are you talking about? I've never slept in his apartment. -

On and on Oliver felt a void growing in the pit of his stomach. And he lost his composure as his eyes widened.

- Where were you Thursday night? -

That was the night he had a panic attack and got lost because Evans had frightened him somehow. That night, he had come back to the Professors' living area looking sick and weak. The night Poppy had said that he might as well have PTSD because of people that resemble his father and the night Taehyung had let him stay in his apartment so he could take care of him because Taehyung said Jungkook didn't like hospitals–...

...Taehyung said Jungkook didn't like hospitals and that's why he stayed there that night. Jungkook had woken up from the couch and jumped in fright but not necessarily aiming toward Taehyung, instead, aiming towards the door. And Taehyung had taken a step to the side so Jungkook would slam against his chest so he could grab him by the upper arms and keep him there.

Grabbing him by the upper arms just like he himself had grabbed Jungkook before coming in here, making Jungkook tense over just like he was right now.

Oliver waited with bated breath, his heart frantic, his blood cold. And saw Jungkook's face losing its anger; saw it softening as he thought... and thought... and thought...

When suddenly, his head did a little twitch, his face screwed up in pain, and he stood up, pushing his chair with the back of his knees.

- I want to go. - He said quickly, trying to step to the side to grab his bag.

But Oliver stood up just as fast and took hold of his wrist.

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🌼Thank you for reading Chapter 67 <3<3<3

Your devoted writer,

Ela Shadow Rose 🥀

Go ahead with the next Chapter ->->->