Sunt Homines Liberi?

Are Human Beings Free?

Monday, 9 of September, 6:00 AM.

Evanthe.

Awful nightmares haunted his dreams, keeping him from rest; nightmares of suffocation, humiliation, and imprisonment. The usual kind. He was even able to remember those were the same ones he had the night before. If he's unable to rest for the third night, he doesn't know what to do to avoid the repercussions.

Once again, there wasn't excitement in his chest even if classes started that same day. He lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling, and heard Jimin move around the room without any wish to start the day. Not like this.

How could it be that only This morning he was realizing a painful fact? He'd all but ignored it, forced as he was to live with it until he'd seen his own sad-filed eyes the night before in a bathroom that wasn't the one in his house.

He had to break free. It felt different than ever to admit this, it made him feel heavy enough to sink deeper into the mattress. It wasn't like he was angry at how little touch he received, it wasn't like he was sad that he couldn't speak about his feelings, he was tired of the rules; the rules, the lines, the molds, the road he was forced to follow. He was tired. Tired of carrying his pain like Atlas does the globe, tired of watching other people be happy in a world that he could not be happy in, tired of forcing himself to remember or to forget or to shut up or to scream up, tired of being the person the situation demanded instead of being able to pull away and take a breath. He was so tired he could scream his throat raw and punch walls with bloody knuckles until all life would drain from his lungs or someone who cared would give him a hug.

Last night he felt freedom. He saw it, smelled it, touched it... talked to it... laughed with it, smiled with it, looked at it until his eyes burned and his heart ached. How sharp would the turn be if he went back to it? He ran from it. He felt the ripping in his chest and still feels how cold the void of such absence makes, would he be strong enough to go back and stay? Would he be strong enough to trust, to expect, to believe, to feel as he'd felt the night before without fear of fire burning the remaining flesh of his heart? Maybe he could... if freedom had eyes as dark and bright as a starry night sky.

He'd known long before that his freedom would be hard to obtain. He won't run away, not if he would leave his friends behind; not if he would be truly alone once he was gone. So, it wouldn't be unexpected if instead of running away, his freedom lay in going back to that moment when freedom gently brushed his tears away. But wouldn't that just be the pinnacle of his mountain of contrariness? Just the thing society has damned appears to him as a savior on a moonlit clearing.

A savior... That's exactly what he needed. What he wanted. What he'd been begging for since he was denied the first hug he ever asked for. So why was he panicking so much? He'd been wanting this moment for since he can remember, does it matter what gender it appeared as? He'd been tired of the rules and grown even more tired still whenever his mind reminded him of punishment, does it matter if he would be breaking them for his own good? So long as no one else knew... So long as he was willing...

So long as he could have the freedom he felt the night before, looking without touching might just be enough–Oh, how hard he begged not to start begging. Just the memory of his hands was enough to have him kneeling. How would he be able to survive the cold the absence of his touch had brought? And really... how would he be able to get out this door as if he wasn't praying for just the thing they've all been taught to burn?

Sighing heavily, Jungkook pushed off the covers and sat up slowly with the help of his hands. Jimin was in the bathroom, so he was alone. And his head fell as his shoulders while his feet hit the cold floor.

He tried taking a deep breath, but the weight on him drew it out in another sigh. So painful it was that he closed his eyes, and still, he prayed...

He had to go back. He needed him by his side. But he had run from him as if terrified, he'll have to make it right.

With his elbows on his knees, Taehyung sat on the side of his bed, holding his head.

His room was just as inhabited looking as it did the day before when he arrived. The only difference was that some boxes lay open. And that there was a dark coat draped over the back of the desk chair beside the bed.

The coat wasn't his.

He fell asleep by sheer exhaustion, the tightness in his chest had been just as potent as the lump in his throat. And he cried... oh, he cried.

It felt good to cry sometimes, to let it all out and feel it drain away. It felt good not because it made him feel lighter, but because it allowed him to smile without a grimace whenever he had to. Because he had to. He can't let his kids see the bags he carries, the pressure weighing him down, the past pulling him back; he has to make them happy, to make them laugh and show them love, or else, what kind of father would he be?

However, here where they were not, he was no parent. And if he only knew to be strong for them, then how could he be strong without them?

For the first time, he was completely alone. No maid that could hear him crying in the bathroom and then tell his wife, no stranger that could hear him crying in a public bathroom and then look at him like he was crazy, just him in his own place. Alone. He had no reason to pull his tears back, so how would he stop crying?

Daphne often said this was pathetic. As if she was the only one who could cry and it would be justified.

He felt so frustrated whenever he thought of her. She knew nothing of how he felt. He moved miles away from his happiness for his kids on more than one occasion, and she didn't even acknowledge that. She was there the morning of the day before when he left, she saw the pain in his face, and did nothing. She just sat there reading her newspaper. He moved out of his home for her, moved to another country for her, started working in jobs he didn't even like for her and now he had to live on his own for her. And it wasn't even for her but because of her.

But he was conflicted, half of him felt anger at what he had to do, and the other half would do it all a hundred times over if it meant he had his kids. Asking for more than these two beautiful lights of heaven seemed greedy to him. Egotistical. He works hard to get a smile on their faces and that was it, nothing more, that was the meaning of his life and he came to terms with it a long time ago.

However... Last night...

He had believed his own life had ended the moment he started living for his kids, so why was his heart beating so loud when they collided? Why did he feel awake when he saw those eyes? Why did he feel alive in that clearing with just him and nothing more on his mind?

Why him? Why now? Right when he had a place of his own, right when he was feeling terribly alone, right when he was getting the hang of feeling numb this Angel appears and strucks him dumb.

He had felt like a teenager again. He was laughing out of pure happiness, smiling out of pure enjoyment, talking freely and without fear, but there was fear indeed. He'd been afraid since the moment they touched and all colors went brighter. He'd been afraid since he saw the longing in his eyes and felt the same one in his own chest. He'd been afraid... of making the mistake his heart wanted him to make.

Though it shouldn't be called a mistake... it was still deemed so.

It would've been far easier to have him in his classes and feel his own heart bleeding inside his chest whenever he saw such beauty than to have this dangerous opportunity so close to his reach. Close enough that he had already touched it and held its hands and brushed a tear away from its cold and soft cheek.

He shouldn't. He mustn't. He cannot.

Friendship was better than nothing but nothing was better than testing his limits. As a parent and a teacher, he had limits strong as steel. But as a man... a lonely, sad, begging for love kind of man... if an Angel appeared by his side in a lonely clearing, what would he do?

He was afraid of that question. He was afraid of what the time he'd been lonely had done to the gentleness of his advances. He was afraid of making a mistake so terrible that it would cause him more than his life. It might cost him his kids.

That's why he cannot. Even if the look on that Angel's eyes hunted him night and day, he couldn't be reckless or radical. Even if pulling away and acting as if last night never happened will weigh terribly on his shoulders... Even if refusing the happiness he'd dreamed of will make him sadder... Even if the look on that Angel's face as he looked and looked at him has been the most gentle stare he'd ever received, as if he'd been tracing his features slowly and carefully and still could find no flaw, as if he'd been wanting to touch him time and time again to see if he was as soft as he thought, as if he thought him beautiful, wonderful, mesmerizing...

Jungkook had looked at him so passionately and yet so gently that he had been able to do nothing but look back and see how this Angel stared at him as no one else had.

...but he mustn't...

Oh, for the love of Tyche, he might get on his knees and pray for good fortune if it meant he'll know what he must do next, for he had no answer while his heart and head were in this mess.

Must he go back? Must he not? Must he search for him or get lost? Must he follow what saddened him or see if this light brought any good? Must he stay lonely but obedient or do the opposite and stay hushed? So long as he was willing, he could...

But he had run away when he brushed the tear from his face.

Which God or Goddess must he pray to for that mistake to be erased? If he wanted to be his friend, the last thing he wanted was for him to be afraid. But can they be friends? Or will their eyes draw them closer like they had the night before?

The night before, the night before, he'll never forget the night before, even if he clutched his head and prayed, that coat still hung undisturbed. But his mind was not. Over and over, the memory of Jungkook's last whisper came like a flood, and so he thought "Why did such an Angel sound as sad as an old soul?".

But if he wanted to know, he needed to ask. And if he hoped to get an answer, he had to win his trust.

So... he'll get it, and so, befriend him, or else he might never fall asleep again.

But to do that, he had to make it right.

As Taehyung sat on his bed, he could only think of one thing...

As Jungkook sat on his bed, he could only think of one thing...

How to apologize to him.

One night was all it took.

One moment, one talk, one stare, one touch.

Just one was all it took for an invisible bond to make itself present.

Almost as if it had been there, way before they met,

or way before they were born.

Jungkook took in one last deep breath before grabbing his charged phone off the nightstand. Then, he opened his week's schedule to see what he had for the day.

7:00 AM/10:00 AM = History of Philosophy: Ancient and Medieval.

10:15 AM/11:15 AM = Human Nature.

2:00 PM/3:00 PM = Philosophy and Race.

Which one of these would be his class, he wonders?

His heart tightened for one beat, noticeable enough to make him put his hand over his chest, and he looked down slightly bewildered. Then, impossibly, the corners of his mouth lifted, and a small chuckle came from a flutter in his stomach. But of course, he frowned. There's no logical reason why the dark, cloudy sky would suddenly appeal to him; there's no logical reason for his eyelids to feel less heavy and his back less tense. There's no reason... but maybe there was, and he was just too scared to admit it.

Ignoring his mind and body, he stood to make the bed. While he worked, he thought of the clothes he would wear. It was nothing unusual, his connection to liking beauty naturally extended to his own image, however, the hidden excitement of making himself appealing as if choosing the paper to wrap up a present was greatly uncommon. If anything, he leans more towards wearing looser clothing. But not today, it seems.

Just as he was rounding his bed, he halted in his tracks. The memory of "looser clothing" brought to him the item he mostly likes to wear to protect him against the cold. His coat.

He had left his coat over his shoulders.

In a flash, the stomach ache of shame made him grimace. The memory of last night was relentless, piercing him, cutting him with every embarrassing stare he made, every movement, every touch, so much so that he wanted to hide and refuse to do what he told himself he would do that day. But he did not. He continued with his work, with a grimace on his face, determined to face the man and talk to him again to try and make things right. Even if he burned with shame while doing it.

Once he was done, Jimin opened the bathroom door, wearing clothes bigger than Jungkook's "looser clothing", and, once he was out with his things, Jungkook got in with his own, having already chosen his clothes down to his underwear.

He tries not to, but his mind is restless. Over and over he wondered if Taehyung's class would be the first one and then rolled his eyes at himself. However, as if that part of his mind worked on its own, he continued with that train of thought and tried to make a list of things he wanted to say to him.

But it was a pitiful list. Even if his class was the first one, how on earth would he be able to list out what he wanted to tell him when just the thought of seeing him rendered him nervous.

But, in all seriousness, what would he tell him? How would he start?

As the warm water ran down from the crown of his head to his bare feet, he placed the palms of his hands against the cold, marble wall in front of him, and closed his eyes. Maybe he was praying for a clue as he stood. Or maybe he hoped the water would clean the stress away. Because, truthfully, he's never wanted a stranger to stay as much as this one, and he did not know why. Beautiful people he's seen and drawn, never to be seen again, and he's never cared once he's immortalized them on paper. However, this man wasn't only beautiful.

Jungkook turned off the water and reached for a towel.

There was another worry, of course, and one that caused the majority of his stress. What would he do if Taehyung refuses to keep meeting? Yes, he said that they always had tomorrow, but that had been before Jungkook ran off, what if he had offended him? What if his strange demeanor had frightened him? Honestly, it frightens even Jungkook at times when he does something or feels something that later on doesn't make any sense. So, another worry, if Jungkook is sometimes too confusing to himself, then how could someone else tolerate him?

That's mainly the reason why he doesn't have any more friends than the pair he's had since he was little. That and many more reasons. But, in essence, he never tries to let someone in because he knows the other person would leave. Even he knows that his father would've left him if it wasn't because of blood ties. How many times had his father tried to make a joke so he would laugh but instead he would storm off? And then he would cry about how his father doesn't want to spend time with him?

Maybe he should stop thinking of this or he would resign the idea of going back to Taehyung altogether.

Once his pants were on, he stopped to look at himself in the mirror. The scratches on his arms looked a bit redder and his arms ached at how hard he'd slammed against the trees, there was even a scratch or two on his face, but, as a whole, they didn't look bad enough to worsen his appearance. He looked at his chest, his stomach, the definition of his waist, his arms, hands, and neck; he looked at the soft lines of defined muscles and flexed them over and over. Once he was done, he knew: The definition looks good yet still not perfect, the lines need to be deeper and his muscles look sharper while his body gets leaner, but his waist looked fine enough, maybe a bit tighter would look better; just for a few days, as he adjusts, he'll allow himself to rest, but he'll have to get familiar with the machines on the gym as soon as possible.

But he looked good.

Why wasn't "good" just enough for him? Why must he strife for perfection at just the things that hurt him most? Why isn't he beautiful for himself? Emily had said time and again, how any girl would be lucky to have him love her; she says it like he has everything anyone would wish for, the body, the brain, the heart, the delicate eye of the artist, and sharp knowledge of the smartest, and he knows it too, he's aware of himself, but still... he cannot feel the power he should be holding. The power of beauty.

The power Taehyung had.

Oh, his thoughts ran on and he simply continued dressing up.

Such power should wear a warning for anyone who got too close. For such power can render the smartest speechless and the artists still as stone. It wasn't only his features or the way his suit accentuated his figure in the richest of ways, it had been his eyes that had disarmed him completely. Jungkook had laid bare before him the moment they had simply stared at each other for what felt like not a long enough eternity. Such power was mighty enough that it had left Jungkook greedy. And he could be honest enough to admit that "just being in the same room as him" was far from good enough for him.

If it were up to him, he would repeat the night before as much as he wanted and, as you know, he wants a lot. Such power... the power of his beauty... So great it was that one night was laughably not enough.

Thinking of it and of how it made the burning in his stomach be replaced with a gentle flutter made him grin again. It was a wonderful feeling indeed when one tries to erase a smile but the muscles under rosy cheeks seem to think otherwise.

He forced a blank face as he walked out of the bathroom, wearing black jeans and socks and a white, long-sleeved, cotton t-shirt. And just as well, because right then the bedroom door opened as if Jimin had unlocked it minutes before.

- Could you like... chill mate? I haven't killed your dog or anything. Quit looking at me like that. - Tom huffed out a breath as he walked in, wearing a gray sweater and black jeans as right behind him stood Leo and Emily.

Jungkook noticed the all-familiar murderous stare Leo was giving Tom and his blood chilled. But not out of fear. Out of shame.

In his worry, he'd all but forgotten breakfast and his friends. Also because it was new to be with them for breakfast before class. But his mind has been all over the place since he "stumbled" against that man.

- Howdy, Kooky. - Tom nodded at him with half a grin that showed off his sharp canine.

Completely uncaring of who was tightening his fists behind him.

- What did I tell you just now? - Leo all but growled at Tom's back and Jungkook took his backpack from beside his drawing table.

- What? - Tom turned his head to look at Leo, grinning wider still. - It's just a joke man. I'm not hurting anybody. And is not even an insult. Besides, -Tom turned his head back at him and those cold, blue eyes nearly froze him on the spot. - we're friends. -

There was... something weird about the way he was looking at him. Almost as if he wanted to attack him. It immediately made Jungkook uneasy enough that his body was prepared for fight or flight. He was confused, unable to understand Tom's personality. After yesterday's smiles and today's cold eyes, Jungkook had no idea what to make of the statement he just said. He knew it wasn't true, but he didn't know what to make of it or with it.

However, just as he was about to ignore it, Leo spoke in a low voice.

- Don't you dare call yourself his friend, you fucking weirdo. - He said the last word slowly and clearly.

Jungkook felt his breath catching and saw Emily's eyes widening as she stood by the door.

- Leo... - Jungkook warned him in an undertone.

Tom's eyes focused on the wall behind Jungkook as his grin was replaced with a dark smile. And it was just when he bit the tip of his tongue between his upper and lower canines and he let out a humorless chuckle that Jungkook's heart started beating faster in his fright.

This was their first day here, if they got into a fight like the ones Leo finishes, furniture will surely break, and he can't bear the thought of telling his parents that they'll have to pay for the things he broke on their own university.

- What did you just say to me? - He chuckled.

The morning had been cold enough, but Tom's voice managed to make it colder. He had power... but it was not beautiful. It was an ugly power. Power won by knowing how to inflict pain in a way that he would be the only one enjoying it.

Jungkook viscerally hated that power. He wanted to lunge at him for thinking himself superior while he also wanted to run and hide. Two sides of the same coin that, put together, filled him with much more adrenaline than his chest could manage. So, now, he was starting to panic.

It wasn't exactly slow, but Tom turned on his spot as if he had a knife in his hand. And Jungkook's head was in a frenzy.

If Tom lunged at Leo, Leo would fight back, and then Jungkook would try to intervene; Emily would surely panic and try to make them stop by raising her voice which, in turn, would attract unwanted attention which could (most probably) end up alerting teachers. These teachers would take them to an office and their parents or guardians would be notified because fights aren't allowed on campus. So, Jungkook's parents would, once again, be informed that their trouble-maker of a son got into a fight and that they'll have to pay for the broken furniture of their own university.

...and if all of that happened, he wouldn't be able to talk to Taehyung this morning.

In three powerful strides, Jungkook managed to pass Tom and get between him and Leo, defiantly. And it was only once he was standing right in the middle and he saw the slight surprise in Tom's eyes that he realized two things, one: Tom was the same height as him, and two: the latter and Leo had been closer together than he thought.

- Get away, Kook. This kid needs to be shown manners. - Leo was half a head taller than both of them and broader than all of them, anyone with a sense of security would get away from him when his voice got that low.

Jungkook nearly did as he was told with such a commanding voice, but he stood his ground, scared. He wasn't going to let his imagined scenario be brought to life.

Most of all when Tom's surprise faded and his grin returned, stepping even closer to Leo and, therefore, nearly touching the points of Jungkook's shoes with his own. But before he could say anything, he stopped, his grin faded a bit, and his eyes looked past the pair of them as if something had happened. It wasn't until he turned around that they realized something had.

Jimin, very silently, had stood up from his bed and walked closer to them to grab a pinch of Tom's sweater. It was such an insignificant attempt at stopping him that, where it'd been Jungkook, he wouldn't have even noticed. But Tom did.

As if there was nothing left to say, Tom took a step back from Jungkook and went around the three of them -with Jimin at his heels, holding his own bag- and left the room.

- That wasn't the way. - Emily scolded in a soft voice. She had taken a step away from Leo at some point but she was taking it back now. Jungkook turned his head and saw that she was wearing a clear brown coat over a thick yellow sweater and her red hair in a high bun. Cute as always. - An argument, not a fistfight. Gentlemen don't resort to fistfights without arguing first. You could've even convinced him if you had been persuasive enough. Think about that next time. -

She was speaking softly and sweetly just like she always did when the place felt tense. Always reminding them that they strive to be gentlemen like their parents. And always drawing a slight grimace out of Jungkook whenever she did.

But, once he turned on his spot and saw her smile, he knew she meant absolutely no harm at all, so he accepted her words. That was until Leo let out a deep breath that tickled the hair above Jungkook's ear.

He hadn't realized just how close he'd been. Rapidly, he took a step away.

- Sorry, - Jungkook said while he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. - I had to stop you two somehow. - Leo nodded with his hands on his hips.

Just like Jungkook's father did whenever he was disappointed.

- Next time you want to stop us, push us away from each other with your elbows or something. Make the space wider for you. He got too damn close to you for a second there. - He squinted his eyes menacingly as he remembered.

Jungkook chuckled lightly and nodded before looking down. What Leo had said sounded so obvious that he felt embarrassed he hadn't thought of it himself. Even if there had been enough space for him, he'd been too close for comfort.

Comfort...

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly once he remembered that he wanted to arrive at his classroom earlier than classes started. He took out his phone and saw the time, and upon finding out that he only had fifteen minutes before classes started, he sighed in a bit of a panic.

As they walked out into the corridor, he pocketed his phone again and scolded himself mentally for still believing that his class was the first one. However, he couldn't help but keep on feeling hopeful, as dumb as it might be.

He turned around to lock the door with his key when Emily asked him,

- Kook, and your coat? It's quite cold today. - She said, worried for his health.

And he pursed his lips at the wooden door in front of him.

What if Taehyung didn't have his coat? What if he'd left it somewhere else? What if he's left it in the clearing? How would it look if Jungkook entered the classroom without his coat? Accusatory? Arrogant? What if Taheyung didn't want anything to do with him and simply hid the coat so no one could find the evidence of Jungkook crossing the line?

- Jungkook! -

Leo's sudden shout startled him terribly. And he frowned as he turned to look at him over his shoulder.

- A bit aggressive today, aren't you? - He shook his head and finally locked the door to leave. The shout had frightened him so much that it pissed him off. Enough that he didn't care about the next thing he said. - I was thinking whether I should get in and get one or simply wait to see if it's still in the classroom I left it in the night before. -

- But classrooms weren't open yesterday. - Emily frowned up at him in confusion as they walked.

And it was the sight of her honest eyes which cooled him down enough to smooth over the lie he was just about to say.

- No, they weren't open in a "classes'' sort of way. But it was still unlocked. - He shrugged. - I assume one of the cleaners forgot to close it. - He heard Leo chuckling in disbelief at the other side as they walked down the stairs to the glass doors. - I needed to take a walk yesterday night, so I figured "why not go to the first classroom I have the next day" and so I went. But never to get inside and sit on the teacher's chair, I assure you. - He grinned and Leo laughed harder than before as they walked out into the corridors.

Even Emily chuckled as she shook her head. But it left Jungkook thinking of how different lying to them would feel once she becomes a psychologist and Leo a lawyer. He figured it would be harder, and so, maybe his relationship with them as well.

He doesn't like lying to them. But, sometimes, he simply can't tell them the truth.

They walked and talked into the cafeteria, however, since they got in too close to the time classes started, they couldn't either sit (because all the tables seem to be taken) nor did they have enough time to make the line to buy a full breakfast. So, each bought an apple, water, and a sandwich wrapped in plastic to take with them. Then, they went their separate ways with the promise of seeing again at twelve for lunch; Leo to the classrooms far west, Emily to the ones far east, and Jungkook to the ones close to the library.

As he walked, he could feel the cold filtering through the thin fabric of his shirt, and every time he wanted to shudder was just another plea for the heavens to make his coat be there in that classroom. Not because he wanted to see that man, no, absolutely not, his stomach wasn't tensing over with anticipation, it was just the cold, it was just the cold.

Finally, he got to classroom C123, diagonal from the library's east door. The wooden double doors were of a honey-brown color, and he looked at them, alone in the corridor, finally allowing himself to acknowledge the speed of his heart. His breathing was somewhat shallow as if he'd been running, and, just to stall a bit more, he took his phone to see that it was seven o'clock. It wasn't until he heard people approaching from other corridors that his eyes widened, his teeth clenched, his breathing stopped, and he finally and completely frightened opened the unlocked door to get inside and close it behind him.

He looked straight forward, knowing the teacher's desk sat by his left and trying not to look at it while he took in the rest of the room. It was vacant of any students, with long desks in a stair-like formation going upwards, tall windows to the left wall letting in the cold light of the day, and finally, the teacher's desk that he wasn't looking at but knew it sat over a low, wooden stage. It was a beautiful classroom. But not even beauty could calm him down.

He knew the disappointment would hurt terribly if he wasn't the one sitting in that chair, so he didn't want to look. But still, he turned his head as casually as he could to look at where the teacher sat.

The relief and excitement flowing through him so suddenly threatened to drop him to his knees.

Taehyung was right there. Right there, wearing a dark blue suit and holding his glasses up his nose as he looked closely down at an image in a book. Looking as devastatingly beautiful as ever while the light coming from the windows to his other side outlined his profile. How he slightly frowned to concentrate on the details was like an artist, watching everything intently. Jungkook tried to swallow down the feeling that rose in him at the thought of him as an artist just like he was, and his overflowing emotion made him take a step forwards in his direction.

The step echoed through the classroom like his entry hadn't done, and Taehyung turned his head to look at him at last. Right then, Jungkook froze. But, Taehyung took in a sharp breath as he straightened away from his book, forgetting all about it as he took off his glasses and looked at Jungkook with the middle of his eyebrows pulled up. It was as if he felt what Jungkook did, an overwhelming desire to make things right.

Could it be that Jungkook had had it all wrong and Taehyung never thought bad of him once? Or was that wishful thinking?

Without leaving Jungkook time to doubt, Taehyung stood from his chair and took from the corner of his desk a folded garment. As he approached and Jungkook's heart moved him forward with the force of its beatings, he noticed with a lump in his throat that it was his coat. He hadn't only taken it with him, but kept it safe and brought it to him without shame or fear.

Right as they met in the middle, Taehyung unfolded the fabric and, without a word, presented it to him with an apologetic stare. Not ashamed, but sorry. Jungkook didn't know what to say for he's never been in this situation. All he knew was that he wanted to fall into his arms and weep. So he gently took his own coat, looking down at it since he couldn't stand to look at the burning honesty in the latter's eyes, and took it close to his chest with a tiny nod and an even smaller smile. It was so odd for him to feel this type of shyness. He didn't feel little nor looked down upon, instead, he felt like Taheyung cared for him so much and he was still such a stranger to him that he didn't know what to make of this attention.

But still, he looked up. And the overwhelming feeling of wishing to lay down and look at him was such that the moment someone kicked the door by mistake while opening it, startled him worse than Leo's shout had.

The pair of them jumped a little and, while Taehyung looked over Jungkook's shoulder at the door, Jungkook ran to a chair.

As the classroom filled with students talking or drinking the last of their coffee, Jungkook chose the chair by the third row with the corridor to his right, and so, next to the window. The same place he used to take when he was at school, not too close, not too far back, and with a view. This time, the view was of the small garden in between two classrooms, filled with little flowers.

To calm himself down, he left his bag on the table by his left and placed his coat over the table in front of him to fold his arms beneath it and rest his chin over it. Once he did it, he noticed... it smelled a bit different. Not the smell of the woods but it was still woods-like. And manly.

Without thinking twice about it being shameful, he took a deep breath and, as he exhaled it, found that all the tension had left his shoulders with that breath. With grateful eyes, he looked down at Taehyung. He wasn't looking at him but down at a folder open on his desk or up at the students as if waiting for them to get ready.

Jungkook bit his lip inside his mouth, trying not to smile as he looked and looked and thought blissfully of how much Taehyung does care. He does care.

As if he had called him, Taehyung looked up at him directly and then immediately lowered his head to look at the folder. But, there was an unmistakable smile on the corner of his lips.

Jungkook's stomach tightened when he felt a flutter trying to overwhelm him again or to make him laugh. It seemed impossible that he'd woken up feeling tired and heavy when now he felt so much the opposite. It was like a miracle.

- Good morning. - Taehyung's voice ran through the whole classroom, silencing everyone and drawing a breath out of Jungkook. - My name is Kim Taehyung and I'll be your "History of Ancient and Medieval Philosophy" Professor for the rest of your first year. This semester, we'll be looking at stage one. For the next one, we'll move on to stage two. - His voice carried a smooth tone of finality, it wasn't as strict as it was certain, Jungkook was sure everyone was drawn to it, to that water-smooth voice of his.

- Now, today we'll see: - He took a marker and started pointing at the things he had written on the board as he talked. - The course description,... -

Jungkook noticed movement in the room and noticed how everyone was taking notes, so he got out his sketchbook and pencil to take notes. He knew it would be best to take out his laptop so he could have everything organized, however... he didn't really want to pay attention to the class right now. Just for today, he'll allow himself to do what he felt like doing, so long as he's comfortable with it. Just to see how it goes.

- ...The course requirements,... - Taehyung had written it next to the last one, like columns. But when Jungkookw was about to write it down, he stopped himself, not wanting to write anything. - ...The grading,... -

Jungkook noticed then, as he rested his left temple against his fist, that Taehyugn had organized everything very nicely. Not only visually did it look tidy, but also in the way it was written and explained. It was very kind of him to explain his class like this, most teachers would simply tell their students that they would send an email with this information and go on with their class.

With a tiny smile, Jungkook continued hearing him explaining slowly and watching him as he looked intently at the students. He was so thoughtful.

- ...Class policies, and Required texts. - He finished announcing the titles of the columns and looked around to make sure everyone was ready. When everyone finished writing and typing he continued. - Course description: - He was now talking directly to the students, looking at them one by one. Always missing Jungkook. - This course aims to study the central texts and issues of ancient and medieval philosophy. We will concentrate on the thought of the two dominant figures of Greek philosophy, Plato and Aristotle, and then study much of medieval philosophical thought. -

- Among the issues to be covered are the following: - He got closer to the board again and started pointing to what he wrote on the first column one by one. - What can we know? -

As Jungkook listened, he thought of possible answers. And his smile slowly disappeared.

What can we know? We can not know everything, Jungkook thought. Because there will always be the question no one knows the answer to, for example: Why are we here? Therefore, one can only know what it's been taught through the years one has been living, therefore, some people are filled with certain information that others have less of which would be more cultural than not, and then there's the information passed on from generation to generation in one family tree. So, one can know a lot, but only what it's been taught, so one's knowledge will always be limited. Limited or restrained by either oneself wishing to remain ignorant or others wishing to keep one ignorant for purposes only they know. Like... how he was constantly locked up in his room as punishment and some of the times he never knew why. In those times, he only knew as much as they would let him know, so his knowledge was limited. Just like many other times where what he could know was determined by other people, be it his parents or his community.

We can only know what we are taught by either people or information left behind in other forms, whether easy to find or not, so one's information will always be limited even when finding something new.

That's why he knows so little about this feeling Taehyung rises in him. Because his information had been limited all his life.

- ...What does the world consist of?... -

This could be answered in so many different ways. If it's a matter of life in which the question was trying to ask "what does your world consist of?", then Jungkook would try to answer it by saying freedom, but this opens up a whole new question of the meaning of freedom which he doesn't want to think about at the moment. However, if it's a matter of cultures and communities and humans as a whole, he would try to answer it in two words: Life and Death. Cultures and communities and societies mean nothing to life or death, everyone is born, everyone dies, and how they lived their lives is irrelevant once they're dead, however, if he ever voices this opinion, people would take him to be apathetic given how the impact someone had in their life lives on thru the people left behind. But since he knows that last point, he knows he's not apathetic, he simply doesn't like to think too much of death because he, like many other people, knows nothing about death or at least what happens after.

So then, his final answer should be that the world consists of the fear of death. Because why else would medicine and security have advanced so much? Why would the world have advanced so much if not because people were so scared of dying that they used all their time trying to create something that would leave a mark whether it be children or something else?

- ...What is the supreme good? Or what constitutes the good life?... -

Personally, Jungkook would say freedom without pain. Pain to others nor pain to oneself. For him, freedom of pain is absolute freedom because, without pain, there can come love and happiness. Or at least that's how it feels to him after living through more than enough pain already. He smiled as he fantasized of a clear blue sky with fluffy clouds and a clean breeze coming from the trees... but his smile faded again. It was only a fantasy. A dream. In the world he lives in, created by the society he's a part of, a good life consists of good grades, a good job, a beautiful wife, a big house, a happy-looking family, and a funeral with many, many people crying about his death. That's it. It's been that way for years and years and so normal it is now that its probabilities of happening are never put into question unless one gets out of line. Because this world consists of rules and lines and in order to have a good life where people smile at someone instead of treating them like a plague, they have to follow them accordingly.

In this world, a good life is achieved in death. Because only then can one finally rest from the constant judgment of the rest.

- ...Does God exist? -

He believes in something of the sort. Not in the Christian God, which he would never admit out loud or else he might get in trouble, but in something. He found some time back that it was easier to believe in the many Gods and Goddesses of ancient times. He didn't know why, he simply felt more comfortable that why, much safer somehow, even though he doesn't exactly pray nor practice any rituals concerning these religions. However, whether he believes they exist in the physical sense or took any part in the creation of the world, those are questions he felt uncomfortable answering. Because, if they do exist, where are they? And if they created the world, why did they leave?

Somehow, thinking of Gods as beings instead of a mantle of protection for his peace of mind, made him feel a bit abandoned by them.

- ... and, are human beings free? -

Jungkook stopped thinking right then and there and looked sideways out into the garden.

The question brought a sharp feeling of pain into his chest. Because he knew, deep down, that societies had become the manacles of people living in them, and as long as human beings were creatures of communities, they would never be truly free.

He will never be truly free.

- Course requirements: ... - Taehyung continued with the next column.

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