Spring, Once Again Nightmare Of Two Heartss

Ms. misfortune

Hiii(◍•ᴗ•◍)

Ms. misfortune

Lets start yeahʕ•ε•ʔ

Tears streamed down his face like a waterfall as he thrashed in bed, clutching the sheets tightly—desperately trying to escape the nightmare. But when had it ever stopped?

With a sudden jerk, He woke up screaming. He sat up, gasping for air, and quickly reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. After switching on the lamp, he drank slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

Once his breathing settled, the tears returned—this time silent at first, then breaking into loud sobs. He cried like a child longing for comfort, praying for someone—anyone—to take away the pain he’d carried since childhood. He yearned for warmth, something he hadn’t felt since he turned ten. But like every night, it was just him, alone in a four-walled room where no one heard his cries or pleas.

Jeon Jungkook had always been a bright student, even from kindergarten. Though his home life was cold, he buried himself in studies. His parents were... present, and perhaps even a little proud of his achievements. But their love was vague—they cared, but they didn’t care.

They never praised him when he succeeded, nor supported him when he failed. He never felt the warmth of a mother’s hug or the pride in a father’s eyes. His early childhood was neither joyful nor tragic—just hollow.

But everything changed at the age of 11. That’s when the nightmares began—ironically, during spring, a season once full of a little bit of peace and color for him.

When the pain first started with spring’s arrival, he brushed it off. But after weeks of suffering, it became routine. He wasn’t the kind of boy to open up—especially not to parents too distracted to notice if he’d eaten. Spring, the season he once loved, became his curse.

Each year, the pain returned with the season: physical pain during the day, nightmares at night. He waited for it to pass, but days turned into months, then years. And spring became his worst nightmare.

He never understood why it was only spring. Why not other seasons? But he had no one to ask. No one to share the burden with.

At the age of 18, Jungkook finally moved out and shifted to Paris. There, he picked up painting—a hobby that quickly gained recognition. His art became his escape ( thats what he thought) and his livelihood.

But tonight, like every night, the pain returned.

Jeon Jungkook (painter)

“Wh-why… hic… o-only me… hic… whe-where are… hic… you?”

He collapsed to the floor with a dull thud—unconscious. This had become his nightly routine. And that same question echoed in the dark... though no one knew who it was meant for.

Ms. misfortune

Not even me.¯\_(ツ)_/¯