Chapter 34

                                    

                                          
The drive to Jungkook's mother's house was tense, filled with an unspoken indecision that hung between Jungkook and Y/n. He hadn't said much since he knocked on her door to pick her up, but Y/n could feel the weight of his emotions in the way he nervously bit his lip rings. His hands gripped the handle bar tight, his knuckles white as they approached the house.
Y/n glanced at him as he took off his helmet, her heart aching for him. She knew how hard that was -facing the woman who had caused so much pain. But when Jungkook had asked her to come with him, she hadn't hesitated. She wanted to be there for him, to give him the support he needed to get through that. It hurted her to even think of how difficult it'd be for him to face something like that alone. 
After they arrived, Jungkook pointed out how the house looked smaller than he had imagined, a modest, weathered home tucked away on a quiet street, instead of the huge mansion he was expecting. It felt cold, distant, much like everything around his mother.
Jungkook took a deep breath, then turned to Y/n, his eyes reflecting a mixture of nerves and determination.
—Just... stay close, okay?
—I wasn't planning to go anywhere —she scoffed, reassuring him—. You dragged me here, and now I'll be sticking to you through this —she squeezed his hand, a contrast of softness among her teasing. 
She earned that first smirk that day, with him looking away before his hand gripped hers. They walked up the steps together, and Jungkook knocked on the door. It wasn't long before his mother answered. She looked frailer than Y/n had remembered, her skin pale and her frame thinner than it should have been. But despite her physical state, there was a sharpness in her eyes, a look that didn't quite match the image of a remorseful mother. 
—Jungkook —she said, a sad smile spreading across her lips—. I didn't think you'd come. 
—Yeah —Jungkook muttered, stepping inside—. Neither did I. 
The house was simple, almost bare, like someone who hadn't bothered to make it feel like a home. They sat down in the small living room, and for a few moments, no one spoke. Jungkook stared at the floor, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, while Y/n stayed beside him, silently lending her strength.
His mother was the first to break the silence. 
—Do you want something to drink? Water, tea, coffee, soda...
—Hmm, can I have a glass of water? —she asked. 
—Of course —she dedicated a friendly smile to her—, and?
—Nothing —he responded dryly. 
Jungkook was too busy looking around the house, trying to find anything that reminded him that the woman in the kitchen was his mother. Unlike his father, she didn't have any photos, nothing that could give out that she had a family. 
When she came back, she aimed the glass at Y/n, before sitting back on the couch next to the one they were sitting at. 
—You've changed so much —she sighed. 
—Yeah, that's what happens when fifteen years pass —Jungkook mumbled, with Y/n's eyes falling on him instantly with concern. 
—But at the same time he hasn't changed at all —she giggled, ignoring his comment to look at Y/n—. When he was little he kept drawing over his arms to fake tattoos, and look at him now. 
—His clothes must've been a mess back then. 
—And not exactly because of the drawings —she continued—. He was a restless ass. Running everywhere, rolling over the mud... I was horrified whenever it rained, because I knew what that meant.