Jungkook with PTSD

— bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Taehyung stood by the mailboxes, pretending to search for his key, though he already had it in his hand. He waited for heavy footsteps around the corner.

Jungkook. The neighbor on the same floor. Jungkook barely spoke. Ever since he returned from somewhere a year ago, where sirens blared and shells exploded, his voice had become a rare guest. Taehyung heard Jungkook pacing the apartment at night, the water running in the kitchen, the suffocation of his nightmares.

The elevator doors opened. Jungkook stepped out, pulling his hood down over his eyes. He was holding a bag of groceries. Taehyung froze, afraid to breathe. He wanted to say something, but instead he just smiled.

Jungkook flinched. He always flinched when people spoke to him. He looked at her from under his brows. He nodded.

Taehyung stepped aside, letting him through the door. Jungkook opened his door and walked in, but paused for a second. He turned around.

The door closed. Taehyung stood in the hallway, his hand pressed to his chest. His heart was pounding. He knew: Jungkook didn't like being touched, couldn't stand loud noises, and didn't make eye contact.

In his apartment, Taehyung took the bread out of the oven. It was still hot. He cut a slice, placed it on a plate, and set it by Jungkook's door. But the door opened, and the owner appeared in the doorway, cowed and silent. He glanced at Taehyung and stammered out:

• Thank you.