My streams of consciousness.

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university. 

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class. 

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him. 

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk. 

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?” 

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn’t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?” 

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.” 

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?” 

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.” 

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways. 

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either. 

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly. 

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed. 

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are. 

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head. 

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.” 

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

Jungkook, by all means, is the very definition of enrapturing.

There’s something so fluid about him that exceeds gracefulness when he’s dancing. Both in and out of the stage, it was a fixed spotlight atop his figure that never seemed to dim. He was a combination of everything, and when you take those variables away from him piece by piece, he doesn’t change.

Put him in the most worn-out hoodie that’s gray and tattered, and he’d be the brightest one in the room. Take out his jewelry and he’d still carry himself with elegance. Remove his favorite chunky shoes that he’s splurged on, and he’d still stand out the tallest.

Jungkook’s in fact so fluid that he’s managed to weasel himself into the tight spaces in the crevices of your mind, inhabiting it rent-free and you, the landlady of supposed mind, don’t even question his presence nor tax his presence there.

“Head in the game, Y/N.”

Coach Kim, seeming like every possible antagonist in everything you’ve ever watched, takes a rigid finger to flick into your forehead. You’ve been caught unguarded numerous times this week by your coach, and the frown you give is apparently not enough to tell him that your forehead absolutely does not want anything to do with him.

“Didn’t wanna interrupt Jungkook,” you mumble just loud enough for him to hear, looking at the boy who’s distanced from you and was doing his own thing.

He’s so immersed in himself, phone tucked to the waistband of his boxers instead of the pockets of his rather tight sweatpants, and he quotes “I’d rather shatter my own femur than cave in buying these stupid wireless earphones” in heated verbatim.

It meant his long hair in a ponytail, his truly wired earphones hooked and secured with his hoop earrings for them not to fall, busting out freestyle to what you could only imagine.

“That isn’t a part of your choreography.”

Namjoon only scoffs, gesturing to you who’s been standing on your feet doing nothing because you were all so busy checking out your dance partner.

He’s no stranger to the two of you, actually. He’s just only a couple years older and in fact, he’s been yours and Jungkook’s coach for the past two years. Namjoon’s too young to be a dad in his own opinion, but simply being around the two of you made him feel that he’s been a father forever.

What compelled him to dye his hair a dirty ash silver was when he saw two gray hairs from his head at the same day, immediately dipping into the salon the day after. Even got his hair longer and cut in a certain way to make him feel that no, seeing two gray hairs doesn’t equate to being bald the next day.

His vision’s not the clearest but he’s not resolutely blind to see that his student likes his other student. Has been and still is crushing on the other for the past two years, and normally that wouldn’t irk him because his students’ personal lives aren’t the things he manages, but this one just takes the cake because you need the lengthy attention span, and not for when Jungkook’s shirt lifts when he moves around fiercely.

So when Namjoon says that checking Jungkook out isn’t a part of your choreography, you make it your living wish to come bother him some more as his favorite student.

That’s still up for debate, even if Coach Kim never confirms and always denies, but you take your chance nonetheless.

“Exactly! Coach Kim, alright hear me out,” as soon as you were about to start another one of your pitches, he immediately groans. You’ve pitched business ideas at him left and right for one whole week after watching a singular episode of Start-Up, and it’s completely made you forget that you studied four years of dance, not business. He physically holds his hands over his ears, not being able to take it if you pitch one more time of opening a donut shop with him, when you tug at his arm with your whole body weight to stop him.

“But what if we let Jungkook choreograph this one out?”

Your genuine tone behind it, and even if it doesn’t take away that you were also genuine when you asked your coach to open up a shop of some sort with you, makes him stop in his tracks completely.

This one being the grand competition that practically everyone in the world of dance knows about, and that only few would be privy to even enter. This one being a competition that’s measured even to the smallest increments of a toe raised and rankings that would be changed even by just a falter of a smile. This one being an event that you and Jungkook got into in your first try, and an event to Namjoon that he’s been trying to get his dancers into for three consecutive years before the two of you came along.

Your pitch sounded absolutely absurd.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that."

Namjoon rolls his eyes and purses his lips, deciding that this is even worse than all your business pitches combined.

Everyone seems to forget his backstory of how he came to be though. Namjoon's foregone his dancing to do choreography instead because there was just something about directing that made him happier, the ability to take control instead of action soothing his burnout back from when he was a dancer.

Pointedly, he's become a champion at this very competition you and Jungkook are earnestly trying to win together. It was his last rodeo as Kim Namjoon the dancer, and nothing else. It was his graceful exit from the particular scene and he's back — actually back to the same place, but with you and Jungkook under his belt that actually have the chance to win.

“You’re the greatest in your field, though."

You've known your coach for two years likewise, and you'd be a fool to not know that he's absolutely pliable with sweet talk. He's let you off the hook from being late from time to time, because not only is he the one who's tardy most of the time, but because you have an apology croissant just for him.

What you're saying is not meant for ass-kissing's sake, because it's the genuine truth. Namjoon's the greatest in his field and it goes to show with his students that he mentors every week, and the two of you that he spends most of his time on.

You know he's listening, taking the time to wiggle your brows playfully before taking large leaps towards your coach.

“And Kook’s the best at his too.”

Coach Kim snorts but for an entirely different reason, not even contesting Jungkook's abilities, but rather for you downplaying yourself.

You've always had a nitpicking habit, one he's also possessed back when he was still just starting as a dancer. The thing that got him out of rut that being a little proud of yourself wouldn't do you as much harm.

“Not even gonna pat yourself in the back for that one? Just all the credit to him?” He hums as he turns to look at you, sweeping his hair back to put on his hat because his love for beanies dwindled ever since his recent dye job.

For the two years he's had you and Jungkook as students, he's come to known the very dynamic between the two of you.

It was rare for him to see a pair that barely even disagreed. He's had his fair share of dance partners and to put it bluntly, he's hated all of them.

But between you and Jungkook, the two of you just always seemed to fit. Your duo's complimentary and actually possessed what pairs lack often — chemistry.

Pressing foreheads and holding hands and raising calves are all basically the same thing, but doing those things with sincerity and the notion that you genuinely would do that even if it wasn't for a piece, is a whole other ball game.

Jungkook's moves were powerful and critical, precise to the point of total accuracy yet still delved into the territory that he's not performing it out of mastery. Your moves were elegant and entrancing, soft around the edges yet emotional at the core that you could convert anyone who doesn't have the slightest interest over dance.

Being the exact same person wasn't the key to being partners and the two of you fit Namjoon's criteria hauntingly well.

You seem to downplay yourself more than necessary, even if he knows what you're capable of.

He could say that surely because here you are, almost gushing while you blatantly point at Jungkook who doesn't even know what's going on because he's stuck in dancing.

“Deserves it. I mean look at him!”

You unknowingly grin when Jungkook breaks into a pirouette, muscle memory at this point when you turn back your glance to Coach Kim.

“Coach, I know I’m kinda overstepping it but I know that I’m also your favorite student!" you grin at the same time he scoffs, tip-toeing back to him again as if you're letting him in on a secret. “But how about we do it half and half? Lay out the structure, then Jungkook takes the lead of our dance and I’ll just follow.”

Namjoon follows your line of sight, now seeing Kook practically hump the floor yet no one comments on it, something that was casually sexual seeming so graceful, even to untrained eyes.

“Brains," you mumble as you push it even more and flick your coach on the forehead, one that would surely get your fired if you did it on anyone else, before glancing back to your partner — "and brawns."

Namjoon weighs his options, being confused that you've actually given him a good argument with just little words.

You did make sense, and surprisingly, he he no qualms about your preposition because after all, you do just always follow around Jungkook like a lost little puppy.

“I’ll think about it.”

He breaks the silence with a firm nod of his head, almost making you squeal as you resist the urge to smack a kiss on your coach's cheek, only reserving it for when you win gold.

“Please do. Jungkook would never fail us, y’know?”

You nod more than eagerly to convince your coach who doesn't need any more of it, once again turning your gaze to someone who takes the place in your heart for being the most enrapturing.

Jungkook would never fail you.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“You’re cute.”

Because for some acute reason, not only did you manage to sleep last night at a reasonable time, but you also wake up before your alarm this morning. This wasn’t your first time being early, but it is the first time you’ve went in early out of your own accord, and not just because your coach wanted an early start. 

Something’s felt weird all morning, and even if you aren’t the biggest advocate for fate, you’ve already made the decision that maybe the stars really are aligned for you because of the sight in front of you.

It’s Jungkook who arrived even earlier than you did, hair tucked behind his ears as he’s standing in the middle of the room.

Wearing a tank top, of course.

You’re used to seeing him in big and loose sweatshirts because they were the most comfortable. That one you’d agree on because additionally, he prefers the tighter-fitting tank tops when it’s dance cram season because they make him feel more composed and very professional. You did say share the same outlook over practice clothes, but that just launched you to buy the better, non-stained, non-two-year old and definitely more expensive tank tops all the way to sport bras.

It’s apparent that Jungkook’s sinfully toned and it’s not only his physique that catches you speechless, but also the way to how he looks irresistible sort of way.

“Yeah. You’re cute,” you mumble for good measure as you think about it again, wasting no time in dumping your duffel bag right next to his to get started.

“Thanks, buttercup.”

Jungkook doesn’t skip a beat letting your term of endearment roll out of his tongue, smiling to himself because his first interaction of the day was a compliment and it’s the early morning ego that makes him clench his bicep out of reflex. The name was born out of fondness when it was a day before competition and you’ve still showed up to practice, voice groggy and raspy while wearing the ugliest shade of green if he remembered how you promised you’d never wear that hideous of a shade to your deathbed.

“What’re we gonna do today?” you frown at how Coach Kim still isn’t here when you actually feel excited about rehearsing, routinely standing beside Kook and doing your own set of stretches.

“Dunno. Coach just said to stretch really good because it’d be strenuous.”

The word didn’t really sit right with you because you know you’d be sore the whole week, instinctively shuddering because it’d be unsurprisingly your hardest and most demanding routine ever, already feeling the pain in your muscles.

You’re too busy huffing under your breath that you don’t notice Jungkook who’s smiling at you through the mirror, the particular crack of your joints always making him crack up because it sounded so rough that it felt like it didn’t belong to you.

You’re probably too busy because you only take notice when Jungkook puts his hands snug on your waist, looking at you as you’ve just stretched upright from touching your toes.

It’s only tunnel vision as soon as you decipher the interruption in your stretches, your eyes that you’ve sworn were strained because you haven’t updated your prescription in a year suddenly becoming clear.

Are we about to kiss right now?

The nervousness and confusion is visibly evident in your face, manifesting into a shaky giggle as you try to swallow down that oh god, this would be your moment after two long years!

“W-what?”

Jungkook seems offended that you don’t manage to grasp the context he’s trapped you in, even going so far to playfully roll his eyes and dart around you in circles. It’s when he stops in front of you again, this time with a playful scoff and eager pats on his shoulder —

that you actually wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“I’m no Kim Seokjin, but I think my shoulders are higher than the barre, don’t you think?”

Right. Totally not a kiss from someone you’ve been crushing on hardly. Totally just professional stretching and workplace teasing.

Kim Seokjin’s got to be Jungkook’s top idol when it comes to dance, having been enthralled in his talent even before he got the semblance of a mind that he wanted to get in the same field too. Seokjin’s a man full of power and grace, not scoped out by criteria because he is the criteria himself, already having been a powerhouse at his young age because he’s just got to be a few years older than Coach Kim, and Namjoon wasn’t ever far off from Jungkook’s age. 

Jungkook’s merely insinuating that you stretch on him and out your foot on top of his shoulders that would never compare to his lord and savior Kim Seokjin’s, humbling himself as he doesn’t even bother to crouch because he knows your leg would reach that high anyways.

You comply wordlessly, repressing your feelings because you must be astronomically dumb to reach that far anyways, and that you don’t have a fighting chance with him.

Jungkook probably has a knack for surprising you because he leans his face a little when you stretch at your maximum, forehead pressed to your leg that was still hiked up on his shoulder.

“Mhmm. Your hair smells nice.”

It’s a sigh of relief that you didn’t notice you were holding, timid smile on your face as you try to hide your expression as much as you could. 

“Thanks, bun.”

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t because of his teeth but rather how high he jumped and how far his reach was when he leaped, knowing that you’d be doomed forever if Jungkook was your opponent instead of your partner.

He doesn’t even think twice at your nickname for him, pressing his nose to the center of your head like it was a normal occurrence that didn’t just make you tense up all of a sudden. “Never change your shampoo.” 

You snort at his grave tone, switching to your other leg yet his gaze remains official. “What if I do? You never know what’s gonna go on sale, y’know.”

“I’ll hate you forever.”

You giggle to how he deadpans, eyes later turning worried because Jungkook sounded that he was only half-joking.

“Alright, alright. No need for that.”

You pull from him quickly, making a mental note that your shampoo is the most important thing to your possession up to date and probably ever. It makes you wince to think that your shampoo’s custom-made and you’ve only gotten it with a massive discount code, and as much as it was effective, it was also much more expensive.

There’s no time to think about your purple-colored, pear and vanilla-scented shampoo you have at home because Coach Kim appears out of nowhere, clapping his hands together and you try to recall if he’s been here longer than your hair product-overthinking session.

He’s easily gotten both your attention because after all, it’s only the two of you he’d be focusing on until the competition. Namjoon’s more than glad to not teach the introduction to dance to five-year olds who don’t exactly have the best attention span.

“I thought about it long and hard the night before and-...” he pauses to look at you, Jungkook having his cheeks puffed like a goldfish confused of its existence, not wanting to be left out with the glances.

Namjoon can’t believe it either that he’s saying this, chest puffing out against the confines of his navy blue sweater.

“Let’s do a split.”

He says it so abruptly that you gasp, and Jungkook, who’s so afraid of being left out that his next best bet was to pretend to know what was being insinuated, legs about to spread out because he was going to descend into a literal front split that you had to hold his bicep firmly to stop him.

Coach Kim resists the urge to laugh, scratching at his eyebrow with his pinky as he strives to make things clearer.

“I mean the choreography, Jungkook. Half of my concept, half of yours.”

There’s a beat of silence, exchanging your glances between Coach Kim and Jungkook that you feel tense even if you aren’t directly involved into the presented scenario, only being broken when your partner lets out a belated squeal from the back of his throat.

“You’d let me do that?!” he wastes no time into taking his coach in for a hug, the older guy clearly being surprised but later melts into the sincerity of his student’s excitement.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t muck it up.” 

He tries to wave off Jungkook because the hug is clearly getting too long now, exaggerating with how he irons out the wrinkles in his sweater but the dancer doesn’t mind at all, still a toothy grin on his face. “You and Y/N are one on-stage, okay? Shadows to each other. Don’t let the other fall.”

Jungkook has a flair for the dramatic, but in controlled amounts. Likes incorporating things that don’t belong until they’re adept for the scene naturally, and the moves he has in mind (you’re judging from what he busts out in freestyle) are admittedly far from being the easiest.

“Coach, I make your studio a gun show every time I’m here.”

You cackle at the the same time Coach Kim groans, the both of you amused at Jungkook’s bit when he flexes his arms and goes as far as to imitate a certain opponent you once had in a competition, Coach Kim being the one to tap out early because he’s absolutely lost it.

Jungkook grins at you as his coach’s still screeching like a hyena and the two of you would have to calm him down before he coughs out a lung just by laughing.

“Besides, I’d never let you fall.”

You seem more than happy and comforted to have heard it from him, warmth spreading all the way to your toes before Jungkook makes the moment his in his own fashion.

“Just don’t make funny faces at me when you’re in the air.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

You’ve had a lot to think about in the past hour by yourself.

Coming to the studio early and having an actually healthy sleeping pattern’s become a habit the past week, and you indulge in the form of routine you have before it’s the last two weeks of practice for the competition, no doubt in the fact that you’d be stressed more than ever.

It doesn’t help that Coach Kim’s running five minutes late, and the moment he steps into his own studio is when he felt that something was wrong.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

The question beats you too because you’ve been wondering that for the past hour, because just last night he’s sent you a link to a tweet that reminded him of you, and now he’s suddenly 65 minutes late to practice which has never happened before.

Your brows furrow in confusion, holding out your phone for Coach Kim to see all your one-sided texts.

“Dunno. Is your message delivered?”

That alone is enough to make Namjoon sit on the floor to both text Jungkook and calm down his habit of nervous pacing.

Jungkook, irritatingly, is one step ahead.

His location’s turned off and so is his phone, tucking it to the bottom of his backpack instead in his pocket because he knows that he won’t be able to take the guilt for whatever he’s doing right now.

Because if his location was turned on, then you’d know he’s in the studio.

Not his coach’s studio, though.

The Min Studio.

The Min Studio being Min Yoongi’s, the same dancer from the roster where Namjoon came from. It’d be an understatement to say that Yoongi was averagely-talented because he’s truly much more than that.

Jungkook’s seen clips here and there of his own coach, but never an abundance of it like he did with Yoongi’s. Yoongi was almost as fluid as he was and he carried himself with emotion through every move. 

He’s the same path that Namjoon did from being a dancer to a choreographer, but only in a grave last-option decision because of a shoulder injury that he knew would alter the way he’d dance forever.

Despite that, Jungkook respects Yoongi all the same.

All that Jungkook meant to do this early morning was to do his grocery run, and by grocery run he meant getting any household food he could scour at a convenience store, then calling it a day.

He’s in the middle of looking for bread that wouldn’t experience two days from now until someone so poshly-dressed stood beside him, seemingly doing the same as he’s engrossed at looking bread.

He pays no mind to that, and in fact, Jungkook’s eyes widens because the dude was probably doing the same he was and he might get the only batch of bread that had the furthest expiration date, slightly quickening his pace of skimming his hands through the shelf.

“Hey, I know you! You’re the one who did the 32 Fouettes on stage, right?”

Jungkook freezes because as he recalls, the last time he did 32 Fouettes from Swan Lake was three years ago, and the fact that this stranger who he just thought was getting bread is suddenly talking to him, and he solidifies even more because the voice most certainly didn’t belong neither to your or Coach Kim.

It’s Jung Hoseok, he realizes —Yoongi’s assistant choreographer and caster.

And one of the judges from three years ago who’s seen his routine, including the 32 Fouettes, from the competition that made Namjoon take him under his wing.

“I am, yeah.” 

He sheepishly bows in realization, the odd turn of events making him lose his focus on what he came for originally and that he was just one row away from finding the bread with the furthest expiration date that he needed.

Hoseok’s smiling at him brightly, looking dapper in a convenience store at 5 AM in the morning as he doesn’t even continue to pretend looking around the shelves, digging into his pocket and too quickly being able to find a company card.

“Yoongi wants to get to know you better.”

Jungkook doesn’t question the rarity nor oddity of the situation, being left alone with a pat on his shoulder that he rethinks if this situation ever even happened at all. He clearly knows what Hoseok meant when he said Min Yoongi wanted to get to know him better.

Whether it’s a stroke of luck or forced circumstance, he just ponders looking at the calling card and if he wasn’t so engrossed, then he’d be able to know that he was about to run late.

It was definitely a forced circumstance because Hoseok totally tailed him, and Yoongi’s been on his ass ever since when he recalled all of a sudden about the boy who did the fouettes and how Hoseok made the mistake of not casting him right after he won gold.

Jungkook and his belief for destiny is what compelled him to leave his groceries on the floor and run after Hoseok who was just about to get into his car, a hesitant smile on his face before explaining, and the caster couldn’t be any more pleased because he didn’t think that it would work this easy.

And here he is. Doing a one-on-one audition in front of Min Yoongi.

He’s severely under-prepared because he didn’t wake up this morning and immediately think that this would be happening. He’s even whispered it to Hoseok himself who just waved him away, saying that it wouldn’t matter either way.

The music starts and Jungkook forgets for a second that Yoongi’s sitting in front of him instead of Coach Kim and you, going freestyle as to what Yoongi insisted upon instead one of his past routines that’s still committed to memory.

Hoseok’s noisily clapping and that’s what gets Jungkook back down from the high that he’s just gotten, back to reality where Yoongi’s standing in front of him.

“What warmer do you want?” he asks with no introduction, putting the younger boy one on the spot because his hands are outstretched with a telling look on his face. “The black one or the grey one?”

You’ve spent your whole day without Jungkook and only under the instructions of Coach Kim, one who still feels ultimately puzzled as the routine feels incomplete because it was supposed to be a pair that performs it.

Jungkook, however, goes to sleep at peace. He’s too in peace to even remember that his phone’s still turned off, and only remembers it by the day after when he wakes up.

It was his first day that he estimates, despite not being bound to a contract or anything of the sort.

There’s only eases when he enters the lavish studio with the high ceilings. Admittedly, it’s much better than The RM Lab and whatever it could be. There’s a table by the corner for free snacks and not just a beat-up coffee maker from home. There’s an actual closet instead of an exposed closet rack. The mirrors are giant and even have an option to light up, instead of the ones that you had to clean vigorously after every session for it look somewhat pristine.

Jungkook lists and lists the differences in his head, until suddenly, he doesn’t feel any remorse leaving your messages delivered, and putting you on silent.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

You should’ve known.

It’s two days later when Jungkook comes back to the studio, but with finality in his steps and not the positive kind that would’ve made you leap towards him.

Coach Kim’s been actually worried sick, and he shoots straight up into the air when the usual third figure entered his studio and stops himself from initiating a hug this time.

Jungkook still looks dashing, far from the worried looks you’ve been carrying for the past days he’s been absent and the times you’d dropped by his apartment with no one to answer the door.

His duffel’s slung right on his arm and devoid of his usual relaxed sweater he’d come into practice with, donning an oversized black shirt instead.

Namjoon tries to take in stride with relief that his student’s already returned, but the relief quickly turns sour when he squints — seeing that the familiar black shirt Jungkook’s wearing carries the same black embroidering by the chest, being able to see it underneath the shift of lights.

The Min Studio.

Namjoon’s caught on earlier before Jungkook could open, a sense of regret in the latter that turns away from who used to be his coach’s gaze to look at the floor that’s a long shot away compared to the studio he’s been coming into lately.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

You’re panicking by yourself, looking even more distraught when Coach Kim turns his back and touches his nape when he’d only be doing that when he’s extremely stressed when neither of you could get a move right. You’re left in the dark yet again that makes you yank at the older guy, his lazy glance back to Jungkook’s shirt giving you a hint.

It can’t be.

“But it’s always been us.”

The panic in your voice is clearly unsettling, and the selfish part of you is just haphazardly clawing at your throat. You can’t even discern if it is selfish, that much you want to warrant yourself.

Jungkook looks the plainest that he could ever be, indifferent to how your voice wavers.

“This is the biggest competition ever, Jungkook! It would mean a lot to win and even entering it is a victory within itself. We already have a routine! You made it!”

The entire studio’s silent with only the hum of the airconditioning making up the white noise, but you think otherwise because your heart’s drumming in your ears and no one makes a single move.

Namjoon stays silent because this is not about claims on choreo, but rather betrayal. For the past two years has he had Jungkook underneath his care and he’s even looked at him as a younger brother. When he didn’t come to practice was the equivalent of him running away from home, and this being the equivalent of the arc that Jungkook wanted nothing to do with him as he starts afresh in another setting.

You find yourself inching towards Jungkook, lip trembling to try and tug at him like you usually would.

“We’re one. Jungkook, please-“

“We’re not one, Y/N. We’ve never been one.”

You’ve hit the fuse that made Jungkook finally speak, yet you backtrack almost as quickly because he’s already spilling words you’ve never wanted to hear.

“I can’t always be with you! It can’t always be us! The reason I look better on stage is because I’m partnered with you. You’re sloppy! And your movements aren’t even precise!” he lists off one by one like he did with the differences the two studios boasted, chest heaving and nostrils flaring because he’s succumbed into anger, “and I don’t even know why Coach even took you in the first place.”

You’re standing parallel to him like you would for every standing position, and you regret that you’ve ever come this close to him.

You’re frozen and trembling in your spot while Coach Kim runs on autopilot, an accusing finger pointed right at Jungkook for the first time.

“Take that back right now, kid.”

Namjoon’s beyond offended for you on your behalf because you’re the furthest thing from what Jungkook paints you out to be. Jungkook, on the other hand, feels so ridiculed with Namjoon’s addressal for him because he knows that he hates it the most.

“I’m better off when I’m not here.”

He only ignores the bile in his throat, giving an equally-harsh glare to Namjoon who’s telling him that he’s severely getting out of line, and Jungkook just wants to get the last word out.

“I’m better off without you.”

It’s when you break down right after he leaves, the first time Coach Kim hears your cries and it sounds the most painful than any physical injury you’ve ever had in his vicinity, hurting more than sprained ankles and torn ligaments.

You’ve been practicing your part of the routine alone in hopes that you could just iron it out when Jungkook shows up in class one day, and he did. Coach Kim bears witness to your hardships for the past two years, and this is the only time that he doesn’t know how to console his student — much more when you mumble in between sobs when you parrot the hurtful words.

“Better off without me.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

This was somehow torture.

You’ve begged and begged Coach Kim to back out of the competition entirely. You’re by yourself and performing what was supposed to be a duo routine is completely pointless, not to mention disqualifying.

You’ve completed your practice for the sake of it, even until you’re alone for the sake of getting your mind out over what transpired and to appease Coach Kim because he needed the distraction, but the one time you plead to back out is when he insistently disagrees.

He couldn’t give you an explanation to why he’s still adamant coming into the competition, and even if he had one, he’s keeping it to himself. Too adamant to the point that he’s talked you into coming with him, warmer on with your outfit in two, yet without the assurance that you’d even perform.

Dropping out is relatively easy, if ever. He’d just talk to one of the staff members, say the excuse of either a family emergency or an injury to save face, and your name would be ticked off the list easily compared to the effort you’ve had to make to even be listed there.

Jungkook doesn’t even know why he’s here, honestly. By the time he transferred was absolutely too late, and the competition wasn’t accepting any more competitors.

It was supposed to be closed and he was only supposed to be here with entirely different people.

He’s anxious, to be honest, and talking to Hoseok about it doesn’t help even in the slightest bit because he barely looks up at him, before proceeding to drink his coffee and type on his phone.

“Hmm. You’d get your number later. Yoongi’s just gonna drop a couple of words later and you’ll get your sticker.” 

Normally, Namjoon would be extremely attentive in situations like these. The whole ten miles would’ve been covered even before the competition, and he would’ve gotten a cutely laid-out plan of action in a folder already, everything from the panel of judges to the competitors and exact wordings for the routine he’d be doing.

Jungkook does not have a single clue. Where was he even enrolled in? Would it be improv? He’d be competing individually for sure, right?

He’s used to carrying the weight of someone, someone being you. Individual competitions now sounded so daunting and lonesome to his ears, because now that he realizes, he doesn’t know anyone well enough in Yoongi’s team to trust them to become his partner.

He’s never really been signed into a contract either, and in the even that he gets entered into a competition, which name would be mentioned?

Fuck, this is absolutely the biggest competition ever and he wants to find you and Namjoon, but most especially you, for a sense of familiarity in something so vast. 

Jungkook just only manages to process the situation he’s put everyone in, only dawning in him now how big of a clusterfuck he is that an all-familiar knot’s starting to form on his throat.

He manages to keep looking and looking until he spots you, although not only accompanied by Namjoon but-

Kim Seokjin?

Your eyes widen comically when you look to see who’s standing beside you, mouth slightly hanging open at the bluntness of the situation, but Coach Kim only stands beside you perplexed yet not surprised.

“Sorry. Couldn’t seem to stop myself but by any chance, you’re the one who did the cover of my contemporary, right?”

Your eyes feel like bulging out, and Seokjin eases you with an amused chuckle that surprisingly did the job of calming you down.

In all honesty is he curious, because his routine-checking of searching himself up landed him to a video of you — it was a rendition of his own routine you’ve completely made your own with your touch, and Jin’s never been floored for a long time to the point that he had difficulty sleeping that night.

That was merely four months ago, and he just happened to spot someone so familiar within a sea of faces that curiosity’s got the best of him, and he’s the one who’s fanboying over someone.

Jungkook sees you that he’s sputtering out of thin air, and the both of you are sputtering for different reasons and out of nowhere, the moment Jin leaves is when he gets replaced by someone you certainly didn’t expect seeing.

Namjoon spots him first and he immediately scowls, lips setting in a straight line before loudly huffing. Before you could even ask him was wrong though, your train of thought crashes the moment someone pipes in almost nervously.

“I-I brought my costume!”

“Why would you?”

Coach Kim snaps as quick, his student’s face falling yet he doesn’t have it in him to feel guilty over his harshness.

Jungkook can’t even let the words tumble out of his mouth because he’s ashamed, really. It was an instinct to do what he’s been doing for the past two years; a force of habit he never really wanted to leave in the first place.

You make yourself as small as you could, detaching yourself from the scene completely and not even telling Coach Kim where he could find you.

“Let me do this, please. Let us do this. Let me make you proud. Let me put your name on the screen, coach,” he scrambles for the words the moment his coach looked disinterested, hands clasped as he tries to block his exits. “Won’t let you down.”

Namjoon momentarily softens as quick as butter does from the chiller, but he remembers to bring himself back to his senses because not everything should be followed through as quickly.

“Not me who needs the promise.” 

He shrugs carelessly, not having to look behind him because he knows that his student’s trailing him behind anyways.

“Y’already let Y/N down, y’know.”

Jungkook frowns at the reminder and it only settles in him that what he both said and did are clearly low blows and aren’t true at all.

“Remember, kid, she’s just doing this for the competition.”

Namjoon already knows within himself that the moment you excused yourself, it was partly to destress but to mostly slide into your costume. He knows your passion over emotion, and even something as scarring as what happened to you just a few days ago still wasn’t enough to break down your will to perform and be done with it.

Jungkook’s sins aren’t absolved — that much he knows. 

He knows it because backstage, you stand farther from him than you needed to. You don’t have a final run-through over the routine, and you felt that your rehearsals with him before he left, should be enough. You’re silent and you’re not nervously babbling to him. You’re not comforting each other.

You aren’t jittery, but Jungkook is for the first time.

“Do you trust me?”

He asks, unsure of an answer as he looks at you who’s standing on your feet away from him.

“Do I have a choice?”

Your tone was soft yet cold, and it’s another reminder for Jungkook how much he’s fucked up. He only bites his lip softly, twiddling his fingers as he’s trying to catch your gaze before you look away again.

“Please trust me.”

The tapping of the mic and the appearance of a staff member are all-telling happenings that the two of you are bound to perform in the soonest, and Jungkook shoots straight up while he tries to catch his breath.

“Do you trust me?”

He repeats his question again, eyes about to start stinging if he doesn’t blink rapidly soon.

You look at him as the dancer, one who’s held your waist more than a dozen of times. He’s the one who literally picks you up from your feet and throws you around like a ragdoll, but with the firmest holds and assuring words. Jungkook, the dancer, who lets your borrow his kneepads and massages your feet after rehearsals and hairsprays your hair into place.

The ninety-nine times he carries you, and the one time that he lets you fall.

“I do.”

It’s a silent confession before the music plays and the two of you walk in, no longer hostile and heavy with each other, but instead the partners that you needed to be.

The music plays and all worries ease, water remaining under the bridge as emotions pour out more than genuinely than they needed to be.

If this can no longer resonate, no longer make my heart vibrate

Jungkook hits every note perfectly as if it was muscle memory. No tension in his muscles and no hesitance in his steps evident from the way he moves. It’s as if he was born to play this routine and this routine only.

You’re fluid with your gestures yet even more concise with the swan that you portray, unwavering yet specific, and the audience can’t even remember what this song was before they saw you.

Jungkook looks at your visage and thinks of nothing but peace, completely transparent as to what he feels on how he moves that this routine felt like it wasn’t planned nor taught.

But what if the moment’s right now?

You launch yourself into a high kick, shifting to arabesque as Jungkook turns you through a short-live promenade before lifting and spinning you thrice through the air; hold firm, heart steady.

Pas de deux.

The moment it ends is when everyone’s collectively emotional, sucked up into the tenderness of their feelings that they only burst up when the music ends and the curtains start to close, uproarious clapping and cheering being heard even if you’re shielded away from them as it only continues and grows in volume.

Jungkook grips your face and kisses you, hands shaky as he holds you in the fear of losing you if he even moves one bit.

You’re looking up at him with the same curiosity he did for you, roles reversed because it’s him who’s falling for you now, only hoping that you haven’t stopped.

You feel the slightest of pulls in your heart, softening at the edges until it isn’t cold to the touch with how he’s looking at you like you’re the only one underneath the spotlight.

You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.

In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.

You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.

Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.

You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.

You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.

Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.

Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.

You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.

“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”

You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.

“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.

He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.

“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.

You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now. 

You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.

“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.

Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.

Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.

Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.

( ♡ ) 

Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.

Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.

You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.

You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions. 

It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.

You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.

The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.

You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.

You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).

Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.

You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.

It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.

“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.

You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”

You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.

Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.

Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.

( ♡ ) 

You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.

You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.

You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore. 

Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.

Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.

You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.

“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.

“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.

“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.

“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”

“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.

“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”

“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.

“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”

Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.

( ♡ ) 

In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.

You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.

You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night. 

In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.

In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.

In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —

Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.

Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you hadn’t had the chance to rise.

You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.

Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.

He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”

( ♡ ) 

You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.

You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.

Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot. 

He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory. 

With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.

The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.

Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.

What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.

Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.

The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.

Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.

He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.

He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.

He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.

The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.

It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.

There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.

You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.

“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”

Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.

“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.

Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.

“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”

“By the looks of it, probably you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.

“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.

Jungkook could only glare at you.

“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.

Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.

Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him. 

If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could posion, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him. 

All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.

“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out his handwritten reviewer from a backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”

“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”

“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”

Jungkook can’t resist.

Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.

“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”

You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.

“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.

Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.

Namjoon has his phone out. 

Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets. 

You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.

“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.

“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”

“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”

Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.

Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.

Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.

“You sound so defensive right now.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls. 

As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.

You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.

It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.

He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.

He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.

You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.

Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.

Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.

Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.

He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.

He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.

Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends. 

He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be. 

He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.

“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.

“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.

“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"

"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"

"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.

"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."

"This is not about them!" 

"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.

"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."

"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"

Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.

Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.

"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"

"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."

"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"

"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"

"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.

"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. ”What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”

It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.

Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.

You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.

"I told you the answer would-..."

"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"

Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.

"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."

"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.

He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.

"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.

( ♡ ) 

The perks of having a big friend group of that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.

The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.

The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.

He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.

In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is e pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.

“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”

The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.

“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”

“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.

“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?” 

“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”

“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”

Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.

He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.

“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”

You flinched, startled out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that made your chest tighten. He looked so soft, so pretty in that moment—his pink lips curved into a worried pout, his hair falling messily over his forehead, half-covering those big doe eyes that seemed to shine even more because of it.

He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, and called your name again. “Blush,” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a quiet prayer. But you knew better. You did.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. You just shook your head and forced a small smile, turning away. What were you supposed to say? That you were what was wrong? That you’d fallen for him, knowing he’d never be there to catch you? The words were right there, lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down, feeling them settle heavy and painful in your stomach. The ache clawed at your insides, begging for release, but you took a deep breath, holding everything in.

Jungkook was still watching you, his gaze piercing through the walls you were trying so hard to build. He gently cupped your face, turning you back to look at him. “Eyes on me. I’m talking,” he said, his tone soft but firm. The way his thumb brushed your cheek was so tender it almost broke you.

“You should—” he began, but the classroom door creaked open, and students started to file in, breaking the moment. He pulled back, checking the time, and you followed his gaze. Just as you both expected, Professor Min walked in, signaling the start of class. Relief washed over you, grateful for the distraction, for the escape. You silently thanked Mr. Min for his impeccable timing.

As the lesson began, you tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to Jungkook, to the conversation you’d narrowly avoided. Your chest felt tight, your heart heavy, but you pushed it all down, forcing yourself to stay composed.

The class went on, but all you could think about was how close you’d come to spilling everything. And how you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Class ended earlier than expected. Mr. Min had cut the lecture short, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The moment his words left the room, you were already packing up, hands moving frantically as you stuffed your notebook and pens into your bag. Your movements were jerky, almost desperate, as if the faster you moved, the quicker you could escape.

Jungkook was right beside you, his presence heavy like a storm cloud about to break. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze, those eyes you usually found so comforting now burning holes into you. As you zipped up your bag, you felt his fingers twitch, like he was about to reach out, but you didn’t give him the chance.

You bolted for the door, your steps quick and purposeful. Just as you reached the threshold, his voice—a smooth, velvety sound that usually made your heart skip—called out your name.

“Blush,” he said, soft and hopeful.

But you didn’t stop. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t even acknowledge him. For the first time, you ran away from him. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of what you were doing, but you couldn’t stop.

The hallway blurred as you hurried through it, eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look back. You knew he was still there, standing in the doorway, probably confused, maybe even hurt. But you couldn’t deal with that now. You just needed to be alone.

When you reached the canteen, you went straight to the farthest corner, away from the clusters of students laughing and chatting. You dropped into a chair, slumping down as you pulled the hood of Jungkook’s hoodie over your head, trying to hide from the world. Your hands fiddled with the hem of the hoodie, twisting and tugging at the fabric as if it could somehow ground you, make everything go away.

You curled in on yourself, your head bowed low, eyes fixed on your trembling hands. The familiar scent of Jungkook still clung to the hoodie, but instead of comfort, it brought a fresh wave of pain. You bit your lip, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill over.

In that moment, the bustling canteen felt a million miles away. All you could focus on was the way your heart ached, the way it felt like something inside you was slowly breaking apart. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the pressure building up inside you, but instead, you just sat there, hiding beneath the hoodie that was his, trying to hold yourself together, trying to breathe.

You were drowning in your thoughts, the noise around you fading into nothingness. A voice yanked you back to reality, snapping the delicate thread of your spiralling mind. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

A light touch on your shoulder—soft, almost hesitant—tried to pull your attention. She already had it, though she didn’t realize it, because you still hadn’t looked at her. She stood to your left, leaning in slightly.

“Are you okay?” Lilith asked, her voice laced with concern. You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet hers.

Lilith. The campus beauty queen. The girl everyone adored. The girl who loved Jungkook. And everyone knew it, too. They rooted for them to be together, whispering about how perfect they’d be. The thought made your stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in your mouth. You hated it.

She continued, her tone gentle but insistent. “Jungkookie is worried about you. He was searching everywhere for you. You should talk to him. Should I call him—”

Your blood boiled at the sound of that nickname. Jungkookie. He hated that name, had told you so many times how much he despised it but never her. she kept calling him that, oblivious or maybe just indifferent. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your anger in check.

“No,” you practically yelled, the word bursting out before you could stop it. Lilith flinched, her eyes wide with shock. She pulled her hand back, her fingers twitching nervously. But you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty. All you felt was anger—anger at yourself for losing control, and a burning hatred for her.

Without another word, you grabbed your bag, roughly shoving it over your shoulder as you pushed past her. She stumbled back slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but you didn’t give her the chance. You stormed out of the canteen, your chest heaving with frustration.

The fresh air outside did little to calm you. You headed straight for the parking area, your steps quick and determined, each one pounding out the anger inside you. When you reached your car, you spotted it immediately and hurried over, yanking the door open.

You slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind you. For a moment, you just sat there, your breathing harsh and uneven. Then, with a frustrated groan, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, not caring where it landed. Everything felt too tight, too overwhelming. You buried your face in your hands, your fingers curling into your hair as you tried to steady yourself.

But the anger wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let go. It bubbled just beneath the surface, a constant, throbbing ache that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. And all you could think about was how much you wished it would just disappear. How much you wished everything would just disappear.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to push all the swirling thoughts out of your head. With a quick motion, you pressed down on the accelerator, and the car roared to life beneath you. You didn’t hesitate as you started driving, focusing on the road ahead, wanting to leave everything behind.

But as you drove away, something caught your eye in the rearview mirror. Jungkook. He was running after your car, his face a mix of desperation and panic. You could see his mouth moving, probably yelling your name, but the sound was lost to the roar of the engine and the rush of blood in your ears. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even slow down. You just kept going, watching as he grew smaller and smaller in the mirror until he disappeared from view.

The ride home was anything but peaceful. The guilt gnawed at you, sinking its claws deeper with every passing mile. You tried to push it away, to convince yourself that you were right to leave, that you needed space. But the image of Jungkook’s face, the way he’d run after you, wouldn’t leave your mind. You’d ignored him all day, and you knew it must’ve hurt him. But you shook your head, refusing to dwell on it. You couldn’t handle that right now.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the silence of your empty house greeted you. You parked the car in the garage, the engine’s hum dying down as you cut the power. The quiet was suffocating as you walked into the house, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. Your parents weren’t home. Again. Even though they had promised they would be. You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head at your own foolishness. Why did I even believe them? you thought. It was your birthday tomorrow, and once again, they weren’t there. Meetings, parties—whatever it was, it was always more important.

You made your way to the living room and sank down onto the couch, turning on the TV in a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself. But nothing on the screen held your attention. The images blurred together, the voices just white noise in the background. Your mind was too cluttered, too full of everything that had happened today, to make sense of anything playing out in front of you.

Frustrated, you got up and headed to your room, the emptiness of the house pressing down on you with every step. You didn’t have the energy to cook, the thought of food making your stomach twist. “Guess I’ll sleep hungry tonight,” you muttered to yourself, a hollow laugh escaping your lips.

You collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. But sleep didn’t come. No matter how much you tossed and turned, your mind wouldn’t quiet down. Thoughts of Jungkook, your parents, the loneliness that seemed to cling to you like a shadow—it all kept swirling in your head, refusing to let you rest.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tightly around you as if they could shield you from the thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. But no matter how hard you tried, the weight of the day wouldn’t let you go. And so, you lay there, eyes wide open, the darkness around you feeling like a reflection of the emptiness inside.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the room was cloaked in darkness. The silence around you was heavy, oppressive, and as the memory of the day crashed down on you, the tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down your face at an unusual speed.

Tomorrow was supposed to be special—your birthday. Even if your parents weren’t around, you’d convinced yourself that Jungkook’s presence would make it memorable. This morning, you’d been brimming with excitement. But all of that shattered the moment you stepped onto the college campus.

The crowd had been the first thing you noticed—a sea of students gathered in an unusually large cluster. Your curiosity had drawn you toward it, and you’d squeezed through the masses, pushing past eager onlookers until you reached the front. What you saw made your heart sink.

Lilith and Jungkook stood there, framed by the throng of students. Lilith held a bouquet of flowers, her face radiant with a hopeful smile as she offered it to him. The sight was enough to tell you what was happening. She was proposing. Your heart twisted with a mix of dread and hope as you watched Jungkook. He looked visibly distressed, his hands trembling slightly as he took the bouquet. A flicker of hope ignited in you that he might reject her, but the moment he accepted the flowers, that hope was dashed. The crowd erupted in cheers, and your heart shattered into pieces.

As if the scene couldn't get any worse, it did. The crowd began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The noise was deafening, each cheer driving the knife of betrayal deeper into your heart. Jungkook’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. He grabbed Lilith’s hand and tugged her away from the crowd, leading her toward a more private corner. You knew it wasn’t about him not wanting to kiss her in public; it was about him wanting to keep those private moments just for himself, away from prying eyes.

Recalling the memory now, as tears flowed freely and uncontrollably, your heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. The image of Jungkook’s nervous expression and Lilith’s hopeful eyes replayed in your mind, each scene a fresh cut. The darkness of your room mirrored the darkness in your heart, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you with crushing force.

You clutched the pillow to your chest, your sobs muffled but relentless. Each breath came in shaky bursts, and you could feel the tears soaking through the fabric. The tears and the pain were all-consuming, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of rejection and betrayal. The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own brokenhearted sobs.

It’s funny how quickly things change. The person who once made your heart flutter with joy now seemed to be the source of all your misery. But it wasn’t his fault. He had no idea of your feelings. You never told him, and now you were left with nothing but regret.

The minutes dragged on with torturous slowness. The clock still hadn’t hit 10, and you were restless, your body aching from the weight of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and closed your eyes, hoping to find some semblance of peace. Yet, amid the turmoil, a small spark of hope flickered within you. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would call when the clock struck midnight. Maybe, as he had done in the past, he would stand on your doorstep with a big bouquet of daisies, because he knew how much you loved them.

Hope brought with it a tangled mess of uncertainty and fear. Part of you desperately wished for him to come, to see him standing there with that familiar, warm smile. But another part of you feared what that would mean. If he showed up, you knew you might not be able to hold yourself back. The thought of begging him to love you, to confess your feelings, terrified you. You wanted nothing more than to be happy for your best friend, the one you loved with all your heart, without letting your own desires ruin his moment.

As these conflicting thoughts swirled in your mind, you became increasingly aware of the exhaustion that weighed down on you. Your body, worn out from the emotional rollercoaster, finally succumbed to sleep. You hadn’t noticed when the weariness took over, but soon you were drifting off, your breathing evening out as the turbulent storm of your mind began to settle into a restless slumber.

The harsh buzz of the alarm clock jolted you awake. You reached out with a groggy hand to silence it, grumbling under your breath. As you blinked your eyes open, a dull ache throbbed in your head, and you winced at the sting of light. Your eyes felt like they were weighed down by sandbags, red and swollen from hours of restless sleep.

With a groan, you rolled out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, your body dragging as if weighed down by an invisible burden. You shuffled into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a sense of numb resignation. The sight that met you was far from flattering. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your face was puffy and pale. You let out a shaky breath, your reflection mocking you. "Happy birthday, ugly," you muttered to yourself, bitterness lacing your voice.

You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night’s tears. The brisk water was invigorating but did little to lift the fog in your mind. You brushed your teeth mechanically, the familiar routine providing a small comfort. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache inside you.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook. You’d hoped he’d come by, as he used to, or at least send a message. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear you were wrong. You chuckled bitterly at your own foolishness.

He hadn’t called.

Not even a text.

It was as if you’d been erased from his life, replaced by someone new.

Finishing up in the shower, you turned off the water and stepped out, feeling cold despite the warmth of the steam. You walked to your closet with a heavy heart and pulled on a simple white tee and blue baggy jeans. You chose a pair of Jordan shoes, not because you don't felt like dressing up, but because you couldn’t muster the energy for anything more. The effort felt pointless when it seemed no one remembered or cared about your birthday.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you dressed, and the image reflected the hollow ache you felt inside. With a resigned sigh, you walked out of your room, ready to face another day, feeling like a forgotten afterthought.

You hurried out of your house, barely pausing to lock the door behind you. The cold morning air bit at your cheeks as you slid into the driver's seat of your car. Your movements were mechanical, driven by a deep-seated weariness. You started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, the rumble of the car filling the silence of your thoughts.

As you drove to college, Jungkook’s image was a persistent shadow in your mind. Each turn of the wheel seemed to echo with memories of him—his laughter, his smile, and the sting of his absence. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, as you fought to keep your emotions in check. There was an undercurrent of nervousness you couldn’t quite place, a fluttering uncertainty that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t define.

The drive felt endless, each minute dragging by as you replayed yesterday’s events. By the time you pulled into the college parking lot, you were nearly suffocating with frustration and sadness. You parked your car with swift, jerky movements, almost slamming the gearshift into park.

Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that clung to you. The walk from the parking lot to the campus felt like a trek through a fog. Your eyes were downcast, your footsteps heavy as you made your way through the bustling campus. You barely registered the chatter and movement around you, lost in your own turmoil.

You finally reached the canteen, its familiar smell of coffee and breakfast foods mixing with the lingering bitterness in your heart. As you pushed through the doors, the chatter and clatter of trays and dishes surrounded you, but you barely noticed. You moved through the crowded room, shoulders hunched, eyes focused on the path ahead. Finding a spot at a table, you sank into a chair, tossing your bag on the table, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, as if the whole world was a muted blur around you.

You took a deep breath, getting up and walking to the counter, eyes scanning the options in front of you. The canteen menu was as uninspiring as ever, but hunger gnawed at your stomach, reminding you of your own laziness for not cooking anything. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed a plate of waffles and a cup of coffee, the safest bets in this lackluster spread. After paying, you turned to head back to your table, but something made you freeze mid-step.

There he was—Jungkook. His eyes darted anxiously around the canteen, scanning faces, moving with a restless urgency that made your heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the urge to bolt gripped you, to just turn around and leave before he spotted you. But you shook your head, grounding yourself. He wasn't looking for you. He was probably searching for his new girlfriend, Lilith. The thought stung, but you swallowed it down and continued back to your table.

You set the plate and coffee down with a soft clatter, sinking into your seat. Just as you lifted the cup to your lips, ready to lose yourself in the warmth of the coffee, you heard it—his voice cutting through the chatter of the canteen.

"Blush. Blush."

His nickname for you.

His footsteps followed, growing louder as they neared. Your breath caught in your throat as you set the cup back down, unable to take that sip.

In no time, Jungkook was standing right in front of you, his presence commanding, and something was different. You forced yourself to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, only to be met with an expression that sent a shiver down your spine.

Anger? Why did he look angry?

His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his eyes—those usually warm, comforting eyes—were now darkened with frustration. You couldn't understand it. What did he have to be angry about? Confusion churned in your gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, words failing you. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension, and you could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, waiting for an explanation you didn't have.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Jungkook’s voice softened as he gazed at you, the anger in his eyes fading into something that looked like sadness. He tossed his bag onto the table beside yours with a thud, then crouched down in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face.

Before you could react, he reached out, grabbing the sides of your chair and turning it to face him. His hands found yours, gripping them tightly, as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt through you, weakening your resolve. It was a good thing you were already sitting, or your legs might have given out beneath you.

"Blush," he whispered, his voice so soft it barely reached your ears. The sound of your nickname on his lips made your heart clench painfully. God, you loved him—so much it hurt. But what did it matter? You couldn’t tell him. He had a girlfriend now. You reminded yourself of this bitter truth, feeling the familiar ache of heartbreak settling in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to pull your hands away from his, but he only held on tighter, his grip almost desperate. It was as if he feared losing you, like you were the one thing keeping him grounded. The intensity of his hold made your heart ache even more. Could it be? No, you must be imagining things.

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re just… not talking to me. You ignored me yesterday too."

His words hung in the air, heavy with confusion and hurt. You stared down at your intertwined hands, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. What could you say? There were no words that could fix this. The truth was too painful to speak. You just wanted to disappear, to be anywhere but here. The realization that he didn’t even remember your birthday only twisted the knife deeper. You felt like crumbling into pieces, but you stayed silent, holding back the storm of emotions threatening to escape.

You wanted to ask him if he even remembered it was your birthday. Did he really forget you in just one day after getting a girlfriend? It wasn’t about him not loving you or you loving him—that was a secret you’d buried deep. But you were best friends. Did he forget that too? How could he stand here, blaming you, while he acted like nothing was wrong?

But you didn’t ask any of those questions. The words that escaped your lips were far different, softer, weaker. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—maybe an explanation, maybe an apology. You couldn't tell.

“I was just… It’s… My parents aren’t home. And I was feeling sad and lonely,” you lied, trying to force a convincing smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

For a moment, his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. He seemed to believe you, and that only made your heart crack a little more. Where had that Jungkook gone? The one who could see through your smiles, who always knew when something was wrong even before you did. The boy who used to notice the sadness hidden behind your laughter was gone, replaced by someone who couldn’t even spot the lie on your lips.

He nodded, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. “I get it,” he said, his voice softer now, more understanding. But he didn’t get it. Not really. He didn’t see the pain you were hiding, the way your heart was shattering piece by piece.

You swallowed hard, biting back the words you wanted to scream. Instead, you just nodded, letting him believe the lie, even though it tore you apart inside.

Jungkook stood up and gently patted your head, his touch warm but distant. "It will be okay, hmm?" he said, his voice soft, almost comforting. You nodded, feeling like a fool. Will it ever be okay? No, it won’t. It can never be okay. You loved him too much for things to be okay. This love was too deep, too consuming to ever fade. The only way for it to end would be for you to end, or else this love would live on inside you forever. That thought terrified you—the idea of loving him for eternity, never being able to touch him, while time made him forget you. And yet, you'd be left with nothing but memories, trapped in a loop of unrequited feelings.

“Blush?” His voice pulled you back to the present, soft and filled with concern. He smiled at you, that sweet smile he always reserved just for you. But now, that smile only reminded you that he wasn’t yours anymore—if he ever truly was. Nothing about him belonged to you, and maybe it never did. You were just fooling yourself, weren’t you?

“Don’t think much. It’ll be fine. I promise.” His fingers brushed your face, his thumb tracing lightly over your nose—a gesture that used to make you laugh, that used to light up your world. But now, it only made you want to cry.

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth lifting just enough to convince him, even though your heart was breaking inside. His touch, his words—they were meant to soothe you, but they only made the ache worse. You wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope he offered, but deep down, you knew better. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Jungkook smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled a chair closer to you and sat down. His happiness was infectious, but it only added to the heaviness in your chest.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "want to see it?"

You didn’t really want to see it. The weight of exhaustion was already pressing down on you, making you feel dizzy and drained. All you wanted was for him to leave, for this feeling of doom to pass. But you nodded anyway, forcing yourself to respond.

When his eyes lit up at your response, a small part of you felt a flicker of happiness. You watched as he reached for his bag, your gaze following the movements of his hands, wondering what he was up to.

He pulled out a large box of chocolates, and a genuine smile finally touched your lips. For a moment, the weight in your heart lightened just a little. You looked up at him, trying to match his enthusiasm.

"I know you love these," he said, holding the box out to you, "and I thought you were angry at me, so I needed to make it up to you."

You took the box from him, managing a laugh. "I wasn’t angry, but thanks," you said, your voice a mix of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite name. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture tender and familiar, making your heart ache even more.

But despite the sweetness of the gesture, the happiness didn’t quite reach your heart. A box of chocolates wasn’t enough to make up for what you really wanted—a simple “Happy Birthday” from him. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him for the gift.

As he patted your head soothingly, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to feel the comfort he was trying to offer. But deep down, you knew that nothing could fill the emptiness inside you—not the chocolates, not his touch, not even the sound of his heartbeat close to yours.

You pulled back from the hug, your eyes lingering on his, those big doe eyes that seemed to hold the universe in them. He was everything you could ever want, the very definition of perfection. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t have him. He deserved someone better—someone like her.

He smiled at you, a warm, affectionate smile, and playfully squeezed your cheeks. Just as he was about to say something, a voice interrupted from behind.

“Jungkookie!” Lilith’s voice, sickly sweet and sharp, pierced through the air, making you wince.

Jungkook’s head snapped around, and he smiled at her, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. She came striding towards you both, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor. Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, and even you felt a twinge of concern that she might stumble and fall flat on her face. But she didn’t.

And as much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you was disappointed that she didn’t fall. You wanted her to.

In no time, she was standing in front of Jungkook, her hand sliding into his as she pulled him to his feet. It all happened so quickly, like a flash of lightning. One moment he was sitting with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks, and the next, he was standing beside her, her arms wrapped possessively around his left arm.

He brushed her arms away, his expression softening as he bent down to your level. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I… I have something important to do. Take care and eat the chocolates, okay?”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you with nothing but a box of chocolates and the emptiness gnawing at your chest.

You stared at the chocolates, the sweetness now a bitter reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t have. It wasn’t the chocolates you craved—it was him. But all you got was this, while she… she had everything you wanted.

You turned deliberately back to your food, your appetite gone, but you forced yourself to eat anyway. The food tasted like ash in your mouth, but you swallowed it down, trying to fill the void that only seemed to grow with each bite.

The day dragged on, each hour blurring into the next. You didn’t see Jungkook again—not that you expected to. He was probably busy with his new girlfriend, and though you told yourself you didn’t care, the truth was harder to swallow. You cared. You cared too much. But you were tired of admitting it, even to yourself.

Finally, the day came to an end. You packed up your things, barely aware of your surroundings as you walked down the corridor, out of the building, and into the parking lot. Spotting your car, you headed straight for it, tossing your bag onto the passenger seat with a sigh.

Just as you were about to start the engine, you heard someone call your name. You glanced out the window and saw a guy waving at you. When your eyes met, he jogged over to your car, his expression nervous but determined.

Standing beside your car, he smiled awkwardly. “Hey! You probably know me…”

You shook your head, and his face flushed a deep shade of red. “That’s okay, I’m Jay. We’re in the same class. Literature?”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue, feeling the weight of his nervous energy in the air. He took a deep breath, then suddenly blurted out, “Will you go on a date with me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, and you processed them in stunned silence. But as you remained quiet, you saw the panic start to creep into his eyes, his breath quickening. Realizing he might be spiraling, you quickly stepped out of your car and placed a gentle hand on his arm, offering a reassuring smile.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, trying to ease his nerves. “You don’t need to worry.”

He looked at you, relief washing over his face, though he still seemed uncertain. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. You—”

His eyes lit up, a mixture of surprise and happiness flashing across his face. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at 7 from your house.”

Your smile faltered slightly, the thought of giving out your address making you uneasy. “No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you there. Just send me the address.”

You exchanged phone numbers, his excitement almost contagious as he nodded eagerly. You still didn’t know him well. But at least this was something different, something that might distract you from everything else.

As you drove home, your thoughts drifted back to Jungkook and the emptiness that had taken root in your heart. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to try something new. To have a little fun, even if it was just to forget the pain, even if only for a night.

Time blurred by, and before you knew it, the clock struck six. Your phone buzzed with a text from Jay, providing the address of the restaurant. You glanced at the message before quickly getting ready, slipping into a simple black dress—nothing fancy, but short enough to make an impression. With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out.

The drive to the restaurant was uneventful, your mind wandering as you navigated the familiar streets. When you arrived, the small vintage-themed restaurant immediately caught your eye. It was charming, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that made you smile. You stepped inside, scanning the room until you spotted Jay sitting in the corner, waving at you enthusiastically. You had to stifle a laugh—waving seemed to be his signature move.

You walked over, and as you approached, he quickly stood up and pulled out your chair with a shy grin. “Quite a gentleman, aren’t you?” you teased, unable to resist. His cheeks flushed pink, and he mumbled, “You look really beautiful.”

Settling into your seat, you felt a small flutter of satisfaction at his compliment. He ordered food for both of you, and the conversation began to flow naturally. Jay was nice—easy to talk to, with a soft demeanor that made the evening pleasant.

But then, mid-conversation, you noticed his hand suddenly move toward yours. He placed it on top of your hand, his touch tentative and shy. The urge to laugh bubbled up again, but you forced it down, deciding to let it slide. It didn’t feel right, but you didn’t say anything, noticing how nervous he was.

However, Jay seemed to misinterpret your silence. A few moments later, he scooted his chair closer to yours, his face inching toward you with a look that was all too clear. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you instinctively leaned back, creating distance. But Jay didn’t get the message—he continued leaning in, oblivious to your discomfort.

You opened your mouth, ready to stop him, but the words never left your lips. In the blink of an eye, Jay was on the floor, groaning in pain, clutching his side as he struggled to catch his breath.

And standing above him, fists clenched and jaw tight, was Jungkook.

His chest heaved with barely restrained fury, his usual calm expression replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes, usually warm and full of mischief, were now cold as they locked onto Jay, who was still writhing on the floor. Jungkook’s hand twitched as if he was ready to strike again, but he held back, his gaze shifting to you.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes hard and cold met yours, the anger in them abating just a bit, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Are you okay?”

"Huh?" You asked, puzzled, and startled. For what really? In your head, you believed Jay didn't have any wrong intentions. But Did you say anything? No. You were too dumbfounded to pronounce a word.

"Blush, are you okay?" He repeated.

You nodded, though the shock was still coursing through your veins, making your limbs feel heavy. Jungkook’s eyes searched yours as if looking for any sign of distress, and when he seemed satisfied that you were unharmed, he turned his attention back to Jay, who was trying to scramble to his feet.

“Stay away from her,” Jungkook warned, his voice low and menacing. Jay paled, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook, clearly terrified.

You wanted to say something—to calm the situation down—but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and a hint of something else. Relief, perhaps? Or was it something more? Hope? But, for what?

Jungkook’s gaze hardened further as he looked at Jay and then again at you, his voice firm now. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.” He held out his hand, and for a moment, you hesitated, glancing at Jay, who looked utterly defeated. But in the end, you placed your hand in Jungkook’s, letting him lead you away from the chaos he had just caused.

Jungkook grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the restaurant with a force that left you stumbling to keep up. His grip was tight, almost painfully so, as he dragged you toward his car, his jaw set in a hard line. When you reached the car, he yanked the door open and practically shoved you inside, slamming the door shut with a sharp thud. You wanted to tell him that you’d driven yourself, but the words caught in your throat. Something in the way he moved, tense and angry, made you stay silent.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements quick and stiff, and started the car without a word. The engine roared to life, and soon you were speeding down the dark streets, the silence between you heavy and oppressive. The air inside the car was thick with unspoken tension, and you found yourself nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could tell he was furious; the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control. The cold night air seeped in through the cracked window, brushing against your bare skin and making you shiver. Despite his anger, Jungkook noticed. Without a word, he reached over and rolled up the window before flipping on the heater.

“My hoodie’s in the back seat,” he said harshly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Grab it and fucking wear it.”

The words were gruff, his tone filled with irritation, but the gesture was astonishingly thoughtful. You turned around to reach for the hoodie, and that’s when you noticed it—an enormous bouquet of daisies and a cake resting on the back seat. Your fingers froze mid-air as you stared at them, a mixture of confusion and curiosity swirling in your chest. Are they for me? Did he really? Your mind raced with these thoughts. You wanted to ask him about it, but when you glanced at his face, the sharp angles of his clenched jaw and the angry flicker in his eyes made you think twice.

Silently, you grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm against your skin. It was far too big, swallowing you up like a blanket, and his scent, a mix of something fresh and woodsy, surrounded you as you took a deep breath. For a brief moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He really was huge, you thought, but the smile faded quickly as you stole another glance at him, his expression still hard and unyielding.

The drive seemed to pass in a blur, the tension in the car making every second feel like an eternity. Finally, you reached your home, and before you could even reach for the door handle, Jungkook was out of the car, moving around to your side. He yanked the door open with a roughness that made you flinch and grabbed your arm, pulling you out onto the sidewalk. His grip was firm as he dragged you toward the front door, his steps quick and determined, leaving you no choice but to stumble along behind him.

Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened, but before you could process it all, you were inside your house, the door closing with a sharp click behind you, and he was standing in front of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the tense silence that followed Jungkook’s outburst. The fear in your gut twisted tighter with every step he took toward you. You had never seen him this angry before. He was always the boy who had been your childhood friend, the one you fell for in middle school but never told. At first, it was fear of rejection, and later, the fear of losing him and your friendship kept your feelings hidden. But now, wasn’t he lost to you? Didn’t he belong to Lilith now?

“Why the fucking hell were you out with that idiotic being?” His voice was like a whip, harsh and cutting through the air. The force of his words made you flinch, your shoulders tensing as if trying to shield yourself from his anger. You caught a flicker of something in his eyes—was it regret?—but it was fleeting, quickly masked by his furious expression.

Before you could gather your thoughts or find the words to respond, he took two swift strides toward you, and suddenly you were face-to-face. The intensity of his gaze bore into you, a storm of hurt and pain swirling in his eyes. “Do you like him?” he demanded, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “Do you love him?” He didn’t wait for your answers, bombarding you with questions while his face remained inches from yours.

You tried to speak, but the words were trapped, your throat tightening. Jungkook's hands gripped your shoulders, his fingers digging in with a possessiveness that left you breathless. “Damnit, say something!” he shouted, shaking you slightly. “Why were you out with him?”

But instead of answering, you shot back a question of your own, desperation lacing your voice. “How did you know I was out with him, Jungkook? How did you even find me Jungkook?”

You didn't want to answer his question. Why should he care if you loved someone or not, when he had accepted Lilith’s proposal just the day before? Now he had a girlfriend. He had no right to demand answers from you.

His anger flared further, a deep scowl marring his features. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “Does it fucking matter?” His eyes were intense, demanding an answer, and he leaned in as if he might kiss you, his breath hot against your face. “Why don’t you answer me? Do you love him?”

The intensity of the moment, the way he was so close and yet so distant, made you tremble. “Yes, it matters! It matters to me!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. You pushed him away, the shove more about your need for space than real anger.

Jungkook stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock. His face twisted with hurt, and tears began to well up, glistening in the harsh light of the room. He stared at you, his expression a mix of pain and confusion, as if your rejection was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. The sight of him—this person who had always been so sure and confident—crumbling in front of you left a sharp pang in your chest.

As you looked at his tear-filled eyes, a deep, gnawing guilt settled in your chest. Why did you still care so much about him? You wondered. Your love for him was consuming you, and it was tearing you apart. You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke before you could.

“I came to your house to celebrate your birthday,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. This time... I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, that's why I didn't wish you before. But. But when I got here, I saw you getting into your car; before I could stop you, you left, your car was already speeding up. I chased after you because I really wanted to make you happy. You were loo-looking sad all day. But, I lost you somewhere along the way, then sear-searched for your car for like forever. When I finally found it, it was parked outside that restaurant.” His voice rose with each word, and his eyes were wild with a mixture of frustration and hurt. “And the moment I walked in, I saw him trying to kiss you. You didn’t even stop him!”

The anger in his voice dissolved into tears. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. You could see the pain etched into his face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You moved towards him, your own heart breaking at the sight of him in such distress.

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, hoping to offer some comfort. “Jungkook, what's wrong?” you murmured, your voice gentle. “why are you crying? Please, don’t cry.” But he pushed you away, his hands shoving you forcefully. His reaction stunned you, and a wave of realization hit you. So this is how he felt when you pushed him away.

You tried again, but he pushed you off once more, his eyes filled with anguish. “You love him, don’t you? How long? Huh?” he sobbed, his voice cracking with pain.

Determined not to give up, you moved towards him again. This time, when he tried to push you, you held your ground. You guided him to the couch and gently made him sit down, his shoulders shaking with each breath. You stood beside him, your hand soothingly stroking his back. “Please, don’t cry,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.

He buried his face against your waist, his arms clinging to you. “Why do you love him and not me?” he asked, his voice muffled but full of hurt. “I thought you love me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in disbelief, questions swirling in your head making your heart ache further. He knew. He knew you loved him, yet he chose her over you. Now, he was asking you this. How could he? How could he ask this when he was with Lilith? Did he expect you to chase him while he enjoyed his life with someone else?

With a mix of frustration and sorrow, you pushed his hands away from your waist. His crying intensified, but you no longer cared. “How can you say that?” you yelled, your voice breaking. “You accepted Lilith’s proposal yesterday! You’re dating her now! And you’re telling me not to love anyone else?”

Jungkook shook his head vigorously, trying to explain. “I— I didn’t... She... I... No. Please,” he started, but you cut him off.

“You knew. You knew I love you. You knew I was upset!” you continued, your voice rising. “still, you left me alone with those stupid chocolates while you went off with her!”

He tried to explain himself again, but you interrupted again, your anger spilling over. “I didn’t want those chocolates! I wanted you!” you shouted, your hand striking his chest. “You’re a heartless bastard. I’ve loved you for so long, and you never cared! Was it too hard to fall for me? And, why crying now?”

Jungkook’s face twisted with frustration, he knew you love him, he always did, his mouth opening to say something, but you cut him off once more. “You always stopped me from calling you ‘Jungkookie’ or ‘Kookie,’ but you never minded when other girls did it!”

He was growing increasingly agitated, his face reddening with frustration. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours, the urgency of the moment catching both of you by surprise.

For a brief second, you were frozen, his kiss demanding and intense. But then, you began to respond, your lips moving against his. The kiss was raw, filled with all the emotions neither of you could put into words.

He slowly pulled away, both of you breathing hard, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your face was flushed, partly from the kiss and partly from the shyness creeping in. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m not dating her, Blush,” he whispered, using the nickname that made you feel like home for the first time in what felt like forever.

You blinked, your heart stuttering at his words. “What?”

“I’m not dating her,” he repeated, his voice steady yet full of regret. “Yes, she proposed, and I didn’t reject her immediately, but that was only because there were so many people around. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone.” His hand dropped to yours, holding it firmly. “I told her in private afterward that I love someone else. That I love you.”

Your breath hitched as he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. “She said she needed help with a project, and after rejecting her, I couldn’t say no. So, I left with her, but I didn’t want to. I just... I’m sorry, Blush. I love you, and only you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as his words sank in. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “And those names,” he continued, his voice low, “I never liked them. It always felt like they were calling a baby, but I didn’t care enough to stop them because... well, they didn’t matter to me. The only person who matters is you.”

His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it tight. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the kiss, both of you panting, foreheads pressed together. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

His arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “I was just too scared to lose you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “You won’t lose me,” you promised, your hand cupping his cheek. “Not now, not ever.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he were savouring the moment. “That's a good thing because... I'm planning to keep you forever and ever and ever. I’m never letting you go,” he vowed, his voice firm, and you knew he meant every word.

Jungkook’s arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear. His forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of his earlier emotions fading into something softer, something tender.

“Happy birthday, Blush,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

Before you could even respond, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal in surprise. He laughed, the sound full of joy, as he began to twirl you around. The world spun around you, the colours of the room blurring together, but all you could focus on was him. The way his eyes sparkled with happiness, the way his grip on you was firm yet gentle, and the way his laughter filled your heart with warmth.

“Jungkook!” you laughed, holding onto his shoulders, feeling like you were floating. “Put me down!”

“Never,” he teased, twirling you faster. “Not until I’ve spun you around enough to make up for all those tears.”

Your laughter mingled with his, and the room filled with the sound of your shared happiness. Finally, when he slowed to a stop, he carefully set you down, though his arms stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close. You were both a little dizzy, swaying slightly, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being in his arms, feeling his warmth, and knowing that he loved you.

Jungkook’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he looked at you with a smile that made your heart melt. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured. “I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times, but it’s so much better than I ever dreamed.”

You smiled back at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” you confessed softly.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry for making you cry. I won't ever make you cry again,” he promised. “I always knew you love me I just... I was... I tried to tell you many times but everytime it felt like it's not the right time, I'm sorry my love. I promise I'll make up for all those tears I've caused you because of my stupidity. Gosh! I just love you so much, Blush.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. You leaned into his touch, feeling safe, loved, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

Jungkook’s arms slid around your waist again, and before you could say anything, he lifted you off your feet once more, spinning you around slowly this time, his smile wide and full of love.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered as he twirled you gently.

Wow, you made it to the end! Honestly, that deserves a medal or maybe some serious painkillers. If you’re still breathing and not currently plotting my demise for making you read this—congrats, you’re a legend. If you’re crawling towards me with murder in your eyes, don’t worry, I get it. I cringed so hard writing this that I think I bruised a rib.

I know, I know. This is like a bad joke that just won’t end. I’m cringing harder than you are. But hey, sometimes you just need to unleash your inner masochist and share the pain. I posted it because I felt like it. So, let’s bond over this collective trauma, or you can just plot my demise in peace. Either way, thanks for sticking around and surviving this with me. Here’s to us—brave souls navigating the wreckage of my writing. Cheers!

"I'm not going to hurt you," Taehyung said, raising his hands. "I work as a hybrid doctor at a care centre. I want to treat your wounds and give you some meds. So they don't get infected." 

His eyes landed on some of the scars and cuts on your arms and legs. He noticed how new they looked. It was clear you got them recently, and he couldn't help but wonder how long you'd been hiding here. 

"Here. You can take my jacket to cover yourself," Taehyung said, extending his jacket only for you to flinch away from the material. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. But I'll have to take you to my place since I don't have anything to help with those one me."

He noticed the way your eyes slightly widened. "Oh, um, I know you probably don't trust me enough to go home with me. But if you stay here, they'll get infected. And you would be in even more pain than you are in now."

He didn't expect you to take his jacket. 

To you, he probably looked like a predator... someone trying to gain your trust, only to betray you as soon as the door closes. 

But he was surprised when you hesitantly took the jacket from him to cover yourself. 

"Come with me," he softly smiled, taking a step back because he figured you wouldn't want him to touch you yet. 

You only let him touch you when he was treating your wounds. Other than that, you made sure you were at least more than a meter away from him.

"I wonder why she won't let you assist her again," Luna muttered. "She's let you treat her before, so why not again?"

"I'm guessing she only let me because she was desperate. She was hesitant to go home with me, but she took the risk because she was desperate," Taehyung said. "She didn't even say a word the entire time I was with her. I asked for her name, her age, anything! But she refused to speak."

"And she's still refusing to speak," Haerin groaned. "I tried checking the system, but she wasn't there. It seems like she's one of those hybrids born in breeding facilities and stuff."

"I'm going try and help her... again," Taehyung sighed. "If she refuses, one of you should try. She might want a woman instead."

The two girls nodded before he began to approach you. 

"Hey," he said, crouching down to your level. 

His presence caused you to tense, and you stopped what you were doing. 

"I'm only here to offer a helping hand again. Allow me to assist you with the ones you can't reach."

When Taehyung reached for a cotton ball, you immediately shifted away, pulling your stuff with you. 

"You can't leave those untreated, sweetie," he sighed. "I know you'd prefer doing it alone, but for your back, you're going to need one of the doctors to help you."

You didn't even look at him as he spoke to you. 

"If you don't want me to do it, I can ask someone else?" He said, getting up/ "How about Doctor-"

"No."

Taehyung's eyes widened, surprised to hear you speak. Your voice was so soft you were almost inaudible. 

"Huh?" he asked, crouching back down and sitting in front of you. "Please, can you repeat that?"

"Don't want another doctor," you muttered. 

"So, do you want me to check on the ones on your back?" Taehyung asked, and you nodded, deciding to no longer use your voice. 

"Should I just do it here, or do you want to move to my office?" he asked, taking the bag of cotton balls. 

"Here."

He let out a sigh before nodding. He would've wanted to treat you in his office. That way, he could talk to you freely and try to ask you some things.

But he figured you probably didn't want to be alone with him right now. 

"Alright, please turn around," he asked, picking up some ointment. "I'm going to touch you, okay? But only because I'm treating you. As soon as we're done, I won't touch you until the next time to take off those bandages all over your face and arms."

You only nodded before Taehyung slipped on some gloves and began to apply the ointment. 

"You know... we're going to have to know your name one day," he said.

You figured there was no point in them knowing your name if you'll escape as soon as you were healed. 

You didn't say a word, and the two of you remained in silence before you mustered the courage to ask- "Why?"

"Well, I can't keep referring to you as the tiger hybrid I brought in last week when I'm talking to my colleagues," Taehyung said. "But also because I'd like to call you by your name. I want to greet you and say: Hey... whatever your name is! How are you today?"

You didn't respond, which is something he kinda expected. So it became silent again. 

As he gently began to take off the old plasters, you couldn't stop thinking about Taehyung wanting to know your name so he could call you by it. You hadn't heard anyone say your name in ages. 

Where you came from, your owner never addressed you by your name. Instead, he'd always call you kitten. A nickname you've now grown to absolutely hate. 

You wondered how it would feel to have someone greet you with a smile and call you-

"y/n."

"Huh?" Taehyung asked. 

"My name. It's y/n."

He wondered why you finally decided to speak today. But that didn't matter. He was glad you were now comfortable enough to tell him your name. 

"You have such a nice name, y/n," he smiled. 

"Thank you," you whispered, and he nodded. 

"Your wounds are healing nicely. You did a good job," Taehyung said, putting on the last plaster on your back. "I'd say tomorrow will be the last time we exchange them."

You only nodded before pulling the back of your t-shirt down and reaching for Taehyung's jacket. 

"We're going to need to buy you new clothes," he sighed, standing up. "You can't keep wearing my jacket forever."

You knew you should've returned it to him that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to part from the comforting scent of vanilla on the jacket. 

"Do you want it now?" You asked, preparing to take off the jacket. 

"No!" you flinched, causing him to slap a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so loud. You don't have to give it to me now, y/n. You can keep it for as long as you'd like to."

You muttered an okay, causing Taehyung to softly smile.

"Doctor Kim!" Luna called. 

"I don't want to leave you alone, but it looks like I have to go," he said. "Why don't you try to talk to other hybrids? There are lots of them who want to talk to you, y/n. And it wouldn't hurt to make a friend."

Your eyes unconsciously glanced at the group of tiger hybrids laughing together. 

You wanted to be part of them, but you were scared. You came from a place where you'd get in trouble if you dared to make a noise. So seeing hybrids be as loud as they wanted was new and kinda strange to you.

"See you later, y/n."

When Taehyung reached Luna, who was now alone since Hyerin had to attend to some hybrids, she looked at him with a sly smile.

"Are you going to adopt her?" Luna asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Which caused the male to raise a brow. "Don't look at me like that. Anyone can see the way you look at her."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked. 

"You probably won't notice, but I can. You just- I don't know. You look at y/n differently, and I don't know how to explain it. You look at that girl like you want to take her in your arms! And protect her from everything."

"Are you not exaggerating?"

"Maybe I am, but hey," she shrugged. "It's clear you want to care for her. Not on the level as patient and doctor but something a little more."

"Can we talk about this in my office?" He sighed. "I don't know where you're going with this... but I'd rather talk there than hear."

Some hybrid species had exceptional hearing. You are part of them since a tiger hybrid's sense of hearing is the most acute of all their senses.

"Okay," she said before turning away and walking to his office. 

.

"Dr Kim," you said, sitting in a chair.

"I told you to only call me that when we're in front of others," he said, not bothering to look up from the chart he was looking at. 

It had been two weeks since you told him your name and three weeks of being in the centre. During these two weeks, you've become more talkative. You still talked in a hushed tone and sometimes stuttered as you spoke, but you were finally saying sentences that were more than five words long.  

"Taehyung," you corrected yourself, causing the man to look up from his work with a smile.

"Yes, y/n?" 

"Are you very busy," you said, fiddling with your fingers. "I have news I'd like to... news I'd like to share."

"Not really. Why? What's up?" He asked, closing the file and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he listened to you speak. 

"I Uhm..." you suddenly felt nervous. 

As you walked to his office, you thought it'd be easy to tell him, but all the confidence you had earlier seemed to have disappeared. 

"Just tell me, y/n," he smiled. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I promise."

"Well... I tried making friends," you spilt. 

Taehyung blinked in confusion. You said it so fast that he could barely catch what you said. The only thing he could hear was friends.

"What was that, y/n?" He asked. "Can you repeat what you said but slower this time?"

"I Uhm... well, I tried making friends with some of the tiger hybrids I share a room with," you said, a small smile appearing on your face. "They were really nice!"

He couldn't help but feel happy for you. 

He was so happy to see you were improving. He was glad you were no longer keeping to yourself and finally deciding to socialise. 

"I'm so happy for you, y/n," he smiled. 'What did you guys talk about?"

As you began to tell him about what you and your roommates talked about, Taehyung couldn't help but think about what Luna said. 

"Come on, Tae," Luna groaned. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to take care of y/n on more than a doctor and patient level. You can take care of her on an owner and-"

"You know I don't like the word owner," Taehyung said, cutting off his friend. 

"Sorry. But anyway, I'm suggesting once y/n's comfortable enough, you can bring up the topic of you wanting to adopt the girl," the girl said.

"But I'm her do-"

"And?" Luna asked, cutting off her friend. "I'm a doctor who treated Soohyuk when he was wounded and ill, but I adopted him. Haerin adopted Solar, the snake hybrid she took care of here."

Taehyung groaned, running his fingers through his hair. 

"You know how I am, though. I don't like... the thought of adopting my patients," he said. "It just feels... I don't know."

"It's not wrong," Luna told him. "But if you don't like the idea, don't. I was only saying it because," she shrugged. 

Taehyung couldn't believe it. He was actually considering adopting you. 

Looking at you now, he wondered what it would be like to come home and have you greet him after a long day. 

For someone who loved and worked with hybrids, he's never actually adopted one. 

"And... uh, that's what we talked about," you said, clasping your hands together with a smile. 

"Ah, okay," he nodded. "I'm proud of you, y/n. You're socialising and making friends."

You muttered a thank you as a soft smile appeared on your face. 

'Maybe I should adopt you?'

.

Nurses and caretakers watched with wide eyes as Taehyung followed after the nurse running ahead of him, wondering what was going in.

Less than five minutes ago, a frantic nurse barged into his office while he was looking at bunny hybrid's chart. 

"Nurse Lee! Are you okay? What's the matter?" he asked, getting up. 

"It's y/n! She needs help!"

"y/n? Is she alright?" He asked, immediately getting worried. 

"No- I um," the nurse ran her fingers through her hair. "No. She's not. She abruptly woke up, breathing heavily. At first, I thought she had woken up from a bad dream and was trying to catch her breath... but when I went to check on her... She was shaking, and then she started sobbing."

Taehyung's eyes widened. "Is she having-"

The nurse nodded, knowing what he was about to ask. "-A panic attack. Yes. And she's not letting anyone near her. Doctor Im is trying to get her to calm down, but it's no use."

"Shit," he cursed. "Where are they now?"

"In the second tiger hybrid room. We asked the other hybrids to leave the room so we could get y/n to try and calm down," the nurse explained. 

"Let's go," he said before the nurse nodded and rushed out of his office. 

"There she is, Doctor Kim," the nurse breathed, pointing to you, sitting in the middle of your bed with your knees to your chest. And sitting on the bed adjacent to yours was Luna, and she had a worried expression.

She had tried to get you to calm down but failed. You wouldn't listen to her- no, it's more like you couldn't hear her. 

"Luna," Taehyung said, and the doctor gave him a small smile. 

"Thanks for bringing him here," Luna sighed, thanking the nurse before turning to her friend. "I asked her to call you because I believe you're the only person who can help her. She's been here for a little over a month now. And you're still the only doctor she trusts. At least, the one she trusts the most." 

Taehyung looked at you before nodding. "I'll try to get her breathing to be steady… and I'll try to get her to open up."

"Alright. We'll give you guys a moment," Luna said before asking the nurse to leave with her. 

"y/n," he softly said as he inched closer to the bed. "Can you look at me?"

He wasn't sure if you could even hear him. It seemed like you were too busy whispering things to yourself to notice him. 

Whatever you dreamt about caused you to snap and panic, and he needed to help get your mind off of whatever that was to help you calm down.

But to do that, he needed to figure out a way to get you to focus your attention on him without him touching you. 

"y/n!" he exclaimed, hoping it would grab your attention and cause you to finally acknowledge his presence. 

He almost sighed in relief when you finally looked at him. But that relief quickly disappeared, and his heart began to sink when he looked at him with fear in your eyes. 

'On no,' he thought. He didn't mean to scare you. 

"It's just me, y/n. Taehyung," he softly said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just needed you to look at me."

"Tae-h-hyung?"

When you choked out his name, he wanted to take you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay, but he knew he couldn't. You weren't comfortable enough for that. 

"Mhm," he hummed, taking a seat at the foot of your bed. "I want you to focus on me and copy what I do, okay? I need you to calm down."

Five minutes. Taehyung sat there, helping you steady your breathing for five minutes. Instructing you to close your eyes and take deep breaths.

By now, you were sitting with your legs crossed and stopped crying. But you were still shaking a little.

"Do you think you can tell me what's wrong?" he asked, taking off his white coat before draping it over your shoulders.

"I just had a- a nightmare," you whispered, using his coat to wipe your wet cheeks. 

"Can I ask what it was about?" 

You nervously nibbled on your bottom lip, wondering- or rather, you were afraid of Taehyung's reaction. You knew if you told him about your dream, it would lead to you telling him about your previous owners.  

You were afraid he wouldn't want to talk to you and consider you useless once he's heard the things you've done under your old owners. 

"I won't view you any differently, y/n, if that's what you're afraid of," he told you as if he could read your mind. "I promise."

"You promise?" You asked, and he nodded, giving you a small smile. 

"It was about my old owners... I dreamt about them, and when I woke up, I was terrified because, for a minute, I thought they had found me and come to take me," you said, tears brimming in your eyes. "I don't ever want to go back to them, Taehyung. I hated it there."

You began to tell him about how life was before he found you hiding in an alleyway. You told him about the type of people your owners were, the things they made you do, how they treated you... you told Taehyung everything. 

And Taehyung sat there and listened. Listening to everything you had to say. 

He knew where you had come from wasn't a good place, but he didn't expect it to be as bad as you described it. 

He felt horrible knowing that the abuse and poor treatment you experienced was all you knew. 

So many things made sense to him now.

Why it took you so long to talk to someone. Why you didn't want anyone near you. Why you were in the condition you were in when you were found... 

"That's everything," you whispered, wiping your nose. "I understand if you view me differently. I don't think anyone would want-"

"I promised I wouldn't see you differently, didn't I?" He asked, carefully bringing his hands up to wipe the tears off your cheek. "You're still the same y/n I met about a month ago. The only thing different is that I know your story."

"Just because you promised doesn't mean you won't think that way," you sighed, feeling like crying again. "I've heard about how humans feel with hybrids in situations like mine, and It's not surprising if you feel the same way too. After everything I've done and been through... who would want a hybrid like me? I was told chances of me finding a new home were few because no one would adopt a used-up hybrid like me..."

"A lot of people would," he told you, taking a hand. "And you aren't used up. Who even- never mind... but please don't say that about yourself..."

"You'd be surprised that despite all this, I wouldn't mind having an owner. I've heard hybrids talk about how some of their owners treated them, and I want to experience that. I want an owner who'll treat me nicely..." you said. "Even though deep down... I'm scared."

"You want an owner who'll treat you nicely?" He softly asked, and you nodded. "Then allow me to adopt you, y/n."

He's been wanting to adopt you for a while now, but he's never dared to say it. 

He wanted to show you how you should've been treated from the start. He wanted to be the person who would you show that. He wanted you to experience some of the nice things other hybrids experience. And he wanted to be there with you.

"What?" you asked, tears brimming in your eyes. "You want to adopt me? Me?"

He nodded, taking both your hands in his. "Would you be okay with me adopting you, though? You have a say in this, you know..."

"I... do, but I'm scared. I'm scared of going through all of that again," you breathed, closing your eyes. 

You trusted someone, and they tricked you into terrible things. Taehyung understood why you were scared of letting another person in. 

"I- gosh," you breathed before you began to sob, falling forward and burying your head into your chest. 

He didn't expect you to start crying again, let alone cry in his arms, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around you and gently stroked your hair. 

"I understand," he whispered. "But I promise I'll treat you the right way, y/n. And I would never let go through all that again."

"R-really?" You asked, and he hummed in response. 

"I'll take care of you," he soothed. "so let me, please."

.

i feel like rewriting this omg but i really hope you liked it :D

.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Please not Jeon Jungkook. Please God, not Jeon Jungkook. Anyone…. anyone but…

“….Jeon Jungkook.”

Damn it.

His name echoed throughout the gigantic lecture hall and in your skull. Out of every student in your class, did it really have to be him? The one paired assignment you had in your course had to be with Jeon Jungkook. As your professor called out the pairs… there seemed to be no one left but the two of you and the final pair, who were always together, his best friends Taehyung and Jimin. You’d gladly work with either of them instead, or anyone really….

There was nothing wrong with Jeon Jungkook… nothing at all. That was what was so bewildering about your university's superstar. Jeon Jungkook was the school's…. everything. Enigmatically the star athlete, a featured artist, a Dean’s List candidate, and even a band member on the weekends, apparently.  He was the student that transferred to your prestigious university - absolutely unheard of - simply because the faculty were that impressed by him. With a reputation like that, it wasn’t long before everyone knew his name and face and was captivated by him immediately. Even the professors took a liking to him straight away - you’d grown tired of hearing them mention his name during office hours while they seemed to be getting tired of you. Every girl and guy on campus fawned over him - within good reason, you had to admit, considering his reputation and easy-on-the-eyes appearance… though you'd never stare his way for too long. The point remained:

If you went unseen, Jeon Jungkook was seen.

Being paired with him meant that whether you liked it or not, you would be in the spotlight in some way. No matter what - you’d have to talk to him, for God’s sake. You think to bolt out of the hall, find his email address, and just send him a breakdown of your responsibilities for the assignment or even an offer to do all the work yourself. You’d hate to, but if it meant interacting with Jeon Jungkook as little as possible and remaining unseen, you’d do it - what’s a few all-nighters and extra work when faced with the humiliation of talking to the school’s most popular person?

“Y/N?”

Shit.

People hardly called you by your name at university - your one friend had already graduated, so just being called would’ve startled you enough… let alone having heard it from such a hushed, singsong voice. Turning around, you see the enigmatic man standing right above you. Everything made sense in an instant. The love, seeing his kind smile. The admiration, seeing his muscles. The crushes and rumored weekly love letters he received, seeing… him.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook,” he says, gesturing towards himself as if you’d never seen him or heard of him. “I don’t know if you know me, I sit all the way in the back? With Taehyung and Jimin?”

“Hi, I know who you are, Jungkook,” you mumble.

“Oh, cool,” he says, still smiling. “I guess we’re together! For the assignment, I mean...”

“Yeah, I guess so. You don’t really have to worry about a thing, though. I can just send you an email later breaking down what each of us should do, or I can just do it all by myself, and we’ll-”

“Oh. No,” he says, quietly interrupting you. “I… can’t have that. I don’t think that’ll work.”

You felt whatever polite expression was on your face fade at that moment… What did he mean by ‘no’?

“I want to actually work on this… I want to work on it together… please.”

You had no idea what to think at that moment, only replaying his quiet, hushed ‘please’ over and over again as he stood beside you, fiddling with his earrings.

“Jungkook, I can take care of it. You really don’t have to…,” you start, but he interrupts you again, shaking his head and sitting down beside you in the now almost empty classroom.

“No, Y/N. I..,” he starts in a hushed tone. “I’m really falling behind in this class and we have the exam coming up…. It’s not just that, it all seems so interesting it’s just that my stupid brain can’t comprehend much of it.”

Jeon Jungkook? Falling behind? Admitting to an unknown fact? Call himself ‘stupid’? Sitting in front of you, he’d finally been looking at you, his wide eyes lowered since the moment he’d approached. It was eerie too see, a look behind the curtain into the life of your community’s local celebrity when you’d been nothing but just another spectator.

“Look, I always want to do things on my own too, so I get where you're coming from...” he continues, “…and that must mean you can try to understand how desperate I am here. It’s hard to ask for help, but… I need it. I’m not lazy, I promise. I need actual… help... please.”

So that’s why.

The shock faded away in an instant. If there was one thing you might've been known for at university, it would definitely have been your grades. Strangers came and went, looking for “the fat girl at the top of the class," as a couple of students kindly called you, never bothering to ask your name. They never got consideration back or even a glance in their direction, let alone your work when they dared to ask to copy it…. but… Jeon Jungkook asked for help. Not to copy the homework, get basic instructions, or an "in" with certain professors. But help. And for the chance to work on it together.

A refusal rested at the tip of your tongue, even then, but that quiet ‘please’ was still on a loop in your mind…

How could you say no?

“Okay..”

“Yes! Good! Great, okay,” Jungkook says enthusiastically. Did he always have a wife, bunny-toothed smile? It was adorable. “Can we meet at the library tomorrow?”

“…Sure, Jungkook.”

“Perfect. Get ready, Y/N. I have a lot of questions. Oh, wait, first of all - what was that song you were humming on your way out of class yesterday?”

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

You suspected it would be the one study session to get Jungkook up to speed and lay out the work for the assignment. But the one session turned into two, which turned into three, and before you knew it, you and Jungkook would be meeting at the library every single day.

It was… overwhelming to say the least. The workload, definitely, as well as the added time spent teaching him but on top of that… the stares and whispers nearly set you off when other students, even his own friends, Taehyung and Jimin, would murmur ineligible words when they'd spot you together in the library. It didn't slip past you that it definitely must’ve been a weird sight, the Jeon Jungkook sitting next to a nobody like you...  but when you were actually with him, the world around you faded away. All that mattered was the material you knew by heart and the boy who needed to learn it. And boy, did he need to.

After an hour of explaining the material to him one day, he’d continued to stare at you blankly. “Jungkook…. Are you even listening to me?” you resigned multiple times, realizing he had a tendency to space out at random points throughout the day. It was enough to almost tempt you to ghost him and just present him with a finished assignment or a detailed lesson plan.... but when he snapped out of it, he always hit you with an adorable, child-like pout and that irresistible plea: “Can you explain it to me again, please?”

So, you resisted the urge you felt before and after study sessions, to neglect him and stop the meetings altogether. In truth, you could’ve. Jungkook would do well enough to pass... but you couldn't accept him achieving the bare minimum. "I'm trying to steal your crown," he joked on day two, proving one of the many things you and everyone else had heard about Jeon Jungkook.

Finding out something new about Jungkook was to turn the page on the most fascinating book you'd ever read with limitless pages, for it seemed as though he and his talents could be described as such. It - he - was awe-inspiring, new, and enticing in the best of ways. And at times, it felt like it was only yours to hold, for you were the person discovering aspects to him, hardly believing it been you realizing it yourself, up close and personal.

He was definitely a competitive one, that, everyone knew - but you’d realized it went far beyond sports - aiming to rival you and fellow Dean's List candidate Kim Namjoon for the valedictorian spot despite admitting he'd still be behind if he tried his hardest, just thankful to have some worthy competitors. It proved that it was real ambition that Jungkook had in him. In contrast to the rumors that he never really cared about his studies, you saw just how clever and curious he'd been, in addition to his dedication in showing up every day, even when he didn't need to. He loved everything he did and never limited himself, whereas you’d been studying as much as you could in your field only to further advance in your comfort zone of academia. When you'd revealed this to him, he, ever the competitive one, expressed his jealousy at the stability ahead of you, helping ease the countless worries you'd had about your own future.

And, you’d discovered the fact that he’s, surprisingly for an artist and musician, more in his element when it came to logic, numbers, and science - with spreadsheets, calculations, and graphs just to keep track of your progress on the assignment, though he skewed the numbers to work on the assignment further. It frustrated him most as he struggles with words, essays, and theoretical concepts, which never made sense to you, considering he felt so much and made you feel so much in return. It was never stress or anger, even on the hardest of days - he had a surprisingly relaxed attitude for such an accomplished athlete. Rather, he expressed patience and envy when you'd been teaching him, and what got you most - his awe at the subject matter… even though he zoned out often. His eyes lit up whenever he started to understand something… you could swear you almost saw stars in his pupils whenever something evidently clicked inside his brain. And every time it did, every time you felt that damned butterfly in your stomach whenever he smiled… only to leave the study session to see daggers in your direction… you had to remind yourself - you were just here to help him.

He was Jeon Jungkook, for crying out loud. You were just another person who started to like him, as everyone does.

You had to remind yourself that his eyes were ordinary, brown eyes - no matter how big and starry they'd looked on certain nights. That though you’d gotten used to the way his soapy scent blended with that of the books around you, the familiarity of the books’ sweetness on its own was just as lovely. That people were looking. That he asked to study, not to get to know you. And that he had his pick of anyone he wanted in the entire university and beyond... there's no reason he'd want to spend time with you for longer than he had to and for more than you had been spending already. Your mental reminders only worked that hard when you had work to do.

For the first time in your life, you felt like a fool. For laughing at his every joke. For continuing to study with him and not putting an end to it the first time your heart fluttered. For not stopping the crush that you had on Jeon Jungkook. Though you felt like one, you never acted like a fool in front of him - at least, you didn’t think so, holding onto that paper-thin hope to at least ground you in some way. It was just as easy to remember that the sheer impossibility of anything happening, plus the actual studying, were at the forefront. It was hard to kill the butterflies, though. They returned every day, whenever you’d bounce off one another in explanation and conversation, drifting off-topic and sometimes getting personal, when he joked around and tried to convince you that university isn’t actually the end of the world… or even when you simply sat working together in comfortable silence.

That was exactly how it was on a regular Thursday afternoon. Tucked away in your corner of the library, you and Jungkook worked away peacefully when a student you’d never seen walked up to Jungkook. A regular occurrence, seeing as he was so popular.

“Hey, Kookie,” you hear, your eyes still fixated on your screen.

“Hey, Jia,” he replies. You can’t tell if he looked up at her or not. Did he? What did his eyes say? Fuck, why should you care?

“Hey, what… what are you doing?” she says with a giggle. If your peripheral sight was to be trusted, she placed her hand on his shoulder. You shouldn’t care, but resist a smile when he shoves it away. “You’re here every day, Jungkookie. Aren’t you bored? Like… what are you doing?”

“I’m working,” he replies.

“What about her?”

Glancing at her direction, you could see it on her - Jia's - face that she definitely didn’t know your name, and you knew the stares you got well enough to know the look on her face was one of confusion or, dare you say it, disgust. Jungkook's eyes flickered down from you, before returning to his notes.

“Y/N and I have that assignment together,” he replies, “the final project for Mr. P’s class before the exam.”

“Ohhhhhh,” she says, nodding in realization. “Okay, that makes sense then,” she giggles. “See you, Kookie. Call me if you want to have some fun tonight.”

To you, it was clear as day what she meant. That makes sense. In a way, she was right. It was the only possible way Jungkook would be sitting here, with you, every single day. He never would have - wouldn’t have even known you existed - if he hadn’t been paired with you. He made sense with girls like Jia - someone he’d have fun with rather than study with and beautiful in every way society wanted her to be, starting with her model-like body to compliment his built one. That made sense, you reminded yourself.

It must’ve been a good minute since you’d done anything on your computer, so focused on making sure the pesky insects in your stomach were dead, that you barely heard your name being called repeatedly until Jungkook waved his hand in front of your screen.

“HELLO?!”

“What?” you jolt, seeing his crouched head peeking to look at you.

“I was asking if you could throw this. The trash can is next to you.”

Jungkook hands you a piece of paper, unfolded, before sitting down and staring back at his screen, this time with his headphones on. You move to throw the paper out in a hurry, almost missing what was scribbled on it.

Jia’s name and phone number.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Before you knew it, the deadline for the assignment arrived, and you and Jungkook were done. After a particularly long night at the library finalizing the paper, you uploaded the document and he hit the daunting blue button titled ‘submit’.

“YES!” Jungkook cheers from behind you, having looked over your shoulder to submit the paper together. With his head right beside yours with his arm planted on the desk in front of you, the veins you’d never noticed before on full display. Just when you realized it had been too close not to get panicked, he forces your chair to spin and face him, sticking his hand out for a high-five. “We did it!”

“We did,” you sigh, meeting his hand, pushing away the feeling of it in your mind.

“Why on Earth do you look sad?” Jungkook asks. “We should be celebrating! Let’s go get fried chicken!”

“Just thinking of the exam coming up and my other paper,” you half-lie.

How could you tell him you’re already mourning the time you spent together? He shouldn’t catch on, though…

“But I guess you’re right. It is a good thing that we’re done with it.” Really, it was. The delusional thoughts would cease. Might as well say goodbye. “It’s been fun… getting to do this and getting to know you, Jungkook.”

You reach out your hand for a high-five, as he had, but instead of going to meet it, he takes two steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You think you’re getting rid of me that easily?” he questions, cocking his brow.

“What?!”

“You said it yourself. We have the exam coming up.”

“Jungkook, you should be fine. You aced that assignment.”

“No, absolutely not.  I want… I need you. Your presence motivates me, and when I’m with you, I feel at ease…. with the material. It’s less scary.” It’s hard to ignore how wide Jungkook’s pupils had gotten as he fidgeted with his lip ring.

“Jungkook, Mr. P's exams are beasts unearthed from the very depths of hell. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t spend all my time teaching you," you say, speaking the truth.

“I’m not even asking for that. Just let me be near or around you. I’ll be quiet and ask minimal questions in the case of an emergency.”

Staring up at him, he had the same pleading and innocent expression on his face when he first approached you after you’d been assigned together. The time you spent together only confirmed that when he bit his lower lip and simultaneously arched his brows inwards and upwards… he was serious and pleading.

“I… might kick you out some days, Jungkook. When I need to focus extra hard.”

“Kick me out, then. Say the word, and I’m gone. And on the flip side, say the word, and I’m there - with anything you need. Like…. iced coffee! I know your order by now. Iced Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

Jungkook retraces his steps, standing right over you. It’s only when his hand reaches out do you realize your arm is upright, your unmet high-five still in the air. His hand meets yours softly, and without a single sound, fingers and palms perfectly aligned. His skin was calloused from his paintbrush and instruments, cushioned against your soft skin, his slender fingers towering over your wide ones… Pulling your hand down, your fingers get caught in his, which slightly curved towards you before your hand slips away.

Taking a deep breath, you notice Jungkook clear his throat. Suddenly, neither of you knew what to do with your hands, but he thinks fast, stuffing them in his pockets before finally looking back at you.

“So, deal?”

“Deal,” you yield, foolishly.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Thank God you were smart as fuck.

Because though Jungkook kept true to his word, it turns out it was extremely hard to focus when your crush was doing one of two things - either quietly sitting beside you in all his glory (with no distractingly helpful responsibility of teaching him) or worse, when he was tending to you. There were the iced coffees, the water intake reminders, the extra highlighters, the space he gave you when he felt you needed it - even checking in with an “I’ll kick myself out for today” on a particularly stressful night before you knew you needed to do it yourself, for some alone time. You rarely wanted it anymore anyways. His questions and interruptions were few, always pleasant, of course, and never took up much of your time. It was worth it, seeing that proud smile of his when he now answered his own questions, just making sure from you that they were actually correct. The butterflies never stopped, especially considering he now sat beside you in the front corner of Mr. P’s lecture hall, abandoning Jimin and Taehyung on the other side of the room... The random, beautiful doodles he adorned your notebook with always made you smile harder whenever you studied - he was there even when he wasn’t.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Jungkook says, walking to your desk in the quiet library. Looking at the clock on your screen, you finally realize the time.

“What can I say?” you sigh. “What are you doing here, Jungkook? Isn't today Jimin's party, or whatever it was?”

“It was, and it might've been the dullest party Jimin ever threw. I know you cruelly rejected my invitation, but honestly... I don't blame you. It was the same old stuff and people and.. here's way more fun," he explained.

"Oh, come on," you reply, rolling your eyes. "Go back to the party, Jungkook. There's no way you think studying is more fun than even the most boring party at Jimin's."

"Hmmm... you're right. I still picked you instead because I missed you." The sentence escapes Jungkook's lips so quickly you didn't have a chance to realize what he'd said before he went on. "I wish you'd come... to give yourself a break. Knowing you'd be here, I decided to come and force you to rest. I also know that you haven’t eaten yet and that we still didn’t celebrate our assignment. We really should celebrate now, anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t check your email?”

You move to frantically get to your laptop before he blocks you. “No, you’re done for the day. Or at least, the hour - you didn't move all day, and I'm worried. Plus, your eyes are too tired. Should I get eye drops?”

“Jungkook... what score did we get?!”

“Only a 95%,” he shrugs, acting cool and uncaring before finally breaking into a wide smile. “We did it!”

A 95% was among the highest scores you’d ever gotten at university - a mark good enough to ensure you'd be the valedictorian instead of Kim Namjoon, who you’d been in competition with ever since freshman year. Not only that, 95% was a fast track that allowed you to possibly get your work published. Shrieking, you jump up from your chair and into Jungkook’s open arms. Realizing your position in the rush of it all, with your head on his shoulder, his tucked into the crook of your neck, and his hands wrapped around your plush waist… your heart only raced faster, which you didn’t think was possible. You quickly unravel your arms from around his back, and it takes a second longer for him to do the same.

You just hugged Jeon Jungkook. Why was he red? Probably ashamed, wondering if anyone saw him hug you.

“I never thought I'd... hear you scream in the library," he laughs, turning to a paper bag he'd placed on the table when he arrived. "I brought that fried chicken to celebrate. Let’s sit a while. You still need a break from all the screens.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t… eat here.”

“Why not?”

“There are some students around. You, too.”

“So? No one will mind the smell of fried chicken. That couple over there is eating it, too.”

"No, it’s…." you sigh, feeling as though you’re finally exposing some sort of unknown truth to Jungkook, despite the fact that he could obviously see you. "It’ll only make people judge me more. Stare at me more. For eating something like this in public. It’s like I…shouldn’t… with everything I’ve got going on. Like… it’s shameful?”

“But there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing at all.” Jungkook looked just as confused as he’d been when he didn’t understand something in the lesson plan, but suddenly, it shifted to his ‘got it’ state. When he finally knew what to do. “Fuck it. Fuck everyone. Sit. Let’s eat. If anyone dares to look at you…. or, God forbid, say anything... You know I'm on the university's wrestling team, right?"

You nod and laugh because everyone knew, but he goes on. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the whole university does, so I'd like to see some punk try anything."

He goes silent, shaking his head as he unloads the bag he brought and encouraging you to eat until he'd already finished half the bucket. Hesitantly, you grab a drumstick before finally taking a bite with your eyes fixated on Jungkook the entire time. You’d have avoided his gaze, even turned away, but with his raised brows and a closed-mouth smile, desperately awaiting your review… you knew you had to give him an answer fast, and you do so after the very first bite, shooting him a thumbs up. It was really good - sweet, sour, and spicy all at once. With your second bite and his proud smile, you recall another rumor you’d heard about Jungkook long ago. That he went on a tour of all the fried chicken spots in the city to find the best one. Asking him about it, you didn’t expect to find out that not only was it true, but it was also a life-long, worldwide mission of his - “Forget all the shit I’m talented at, this is my life’s purpose,” he proclaimed, saying that the chicken he'd brought had been his favorite so far. "And I wouldn't get you anything less than the best I’ve found, darling."

You felt your face flush, knowing Jungkook must've called you that jokingly. Still, the pet name sent your mind into overdrive, more than the studying did, as you fed your delusions for a little while. Darling.

You could've sworn you were actually living in your delusions later that night when he dropped you home for the very first time. The conversation never stopped, even until you were standing by your apartment building. "Still gonna study?" he asked, staring at your door.

"Maybe," you replied, knowing you'd be too delusional to do so, and if you tried, you would only end up staring at the words and cursing Jungkook for being too perfect and making you this way.

"Well, do you want to eat ramyeon now?” he’d said with a giggle. Catching you off guard, you nearly choked on air at the double entendre coming from him, but rolled your eyes and answered with a simple “Yes” instead, only for his smile to fade quickly.

Your fat ass should not be making jokes like that when you knew damn well you wouldn’t have shot. Especially not after dinner.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Jungkook," you hurriedly say, attempting to dash inside, only for your jacket to get caught on the way in. Looking down, you realize it hadn't been the knob that stopped it but rather Jungkook's fingers, clutching onto the fabric before letting it slip away. "Sorry. Goodnight."

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

The moment kept replaying in your head, buried in your hands on the desk, agonizing over the humiliation as a break from agonizing over the workload. You had time to agonize today, Jungkook wasn’t there yet. If he saw you like that, he’d nudge you to get out of it.

“Hello?”

Jolted by the sudden voice of a woman, you look up to see Jia. “Hi,” you say, too awkwardly even for you. “Can I help you with something? Jungkook’s not here if you’re looking for him.”

“I can see that,” she scoffs. “I came to talk to you.” In all this time, your first run-in with her had been your only semblance of interaction, though you hadn't ever spoken to each other.

“Oh… Why?”

“What’s going on… between the two of you?”

“Me and... Jungkook? He told you, we had that assignment together….”

“That’s done,” she snaps.

“And now I’m just helping out with his studies.”

“Then why did Nani see him drop you home?”

“We’re… friends, Jia,” you mutter. You’d never called Jungkook that before, a friend, but you can’t help but think it’s fitting to do so... It fit, didn’t it? Weren’t you… friends? At the very least? Or...

“We’re classmates,” you quickly add.

“Friends - that's the funniest shit I've heard. His actual friends, Jimin and Taehyung refuse to tell me anything when he left that party. They were probably concerned and unsettled by it all…. I mean, everyone here can see how much you gush over him, you know? It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how he doesn’t see it and steer clear - especially since you should come with a cattle crossing sign, seriously.”

Was it that obvious?

“We all know he's just using you for that piece of meat between your ears until the exam's over. He's not an idiot, you know? Don’t get carried away thinking anyone outside your league would be interested in you.”

An emptiness grew with the uncovering of a deep fear of yours. Of course. Of course, he was still using you, you idiot... It was just the help he needed. Neither of you could have gotten the 95% on your own... He said he needed the help... the mark... She was right. He wasn't an idiot... but wasn't the Jungkook you knew too kind to use someone like that?

It was then that your phone, lying on the desk, lit up with a message, clear as day for the both of you to read.

[from: jungkook] “i’m on my way to you rn. brought kimbap!! hope you like it. made it myself :) ”

“Pft. He knows how to keep a fat girl on his hook. You fucking whale.”

You fucking fool.

“Heyooooooo!” you hear from a short distance in that familiar singsong voice that tugged at your heartstrings. Jungkook turned a corner and finally appeared from between the shelves. “Kimbap! Wait, what the fuck is wrong?”

Shit. You hadn’t realized tears were streaming down your face. As if you could be any more humiliated. Not even able to glance his way, despite him repeating the question over and over again, mere steps away from you, you stuff your things into your bag and rush out.

The last thing you catch is Jia’s scoff.

┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

Suddenly, avoiding Jungkook was easy. That urge you had long ago, the one in line with you, Jungkook, and the ways of the world…. Your two different worlds.

He’d chased you, easily getting to you and stopping you. Repeating his question again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you had let out, staring at the ground. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to.

“Are you kidding? What is it? Tell me…” he says quietly, putting his hands on your shoulders. You shake them off in an instant, walking away, only for him to follow close behind. “What is it? You’re not okay.”

“It’s… stress.”

“Bullshit - I’ve obviously seen you stressed. This isn’t it. I’ve never seen-”

“Jungkook, I’m kicking you out. Keep your word that you’ll stay out,” you snap, finally turning to look at him in the crowded library. If he’d never seen you this way, you’d never seen him that way either. Hurt. You can’t see why. He got what he wanted out of you, plus you’d told him you’d kick him out….

If only it was easy to keep him out. Jungkook had always listened when it came to the material, but it was as if he never knew how to in any other regard. His texts and calls over the weekend went ignored until you finally mustered up the courage to block him. You thought that would be that - Jungkook would go back to his world, and you’d go back to yours - but on your first day back, you find him sitting on the floor at the door to the library at the crack of dawn.

You’d specifically gone that early to avoid Jungkook - who always showed up during the late afternoons or evenings after having just woken up then on his off days. Yet here he was, sitting cross-legged by the glass door you’d walked into together countless times, glancing at the handful of other students with exams and deadlines as they walked in, out, and around him. Even from a distance away, you could see how wide his doe-eyes were. And he jumps up the moment he spots you slowly approaching the door.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you ask quietly, trying to avoid his gaze.

“You say that as if you don't practically live in the library," he says, almost amused. "If you mean how I knew you'd be here so early - I took a chance. I would’ve waited all day until I saw you… All week, if that's what it took. And I probably would've convinced Mr. P to include a note with your exam sheet if you decided you disliked me until then.”

….Shit. Sure, you’d never end up with him, but he only fidgeted with the loose strings on his hoodie when he was really stressed - a sight you'd only seen once after a supposed tough day at wrestling practice. Now, they'd been undone with a hole at the bottom of the thick fabric. Knowing you caused it...

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I shouldn’t have…”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have,” he grumbles before shaking his head. “No, you don’t... You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me your time… I should’ve stayed “out” like I promised, but… I just want to know if you were okay.”

“I am,” you barely let out. With tears bubbling in your eyes, you walk into the library.

“I don’t believe it,” he says, trailing you.

“I kicked you out, remember? Stay out. Why do you even care?" you say without turning back.

“I care about you!”

When you finally stop to stare at him, Jungkook doesn't allow you to deny him, immediately grabbing your hand and pulling you deep into the library, through the twisty, student-filled desks, between sky-high bookshelves.

“Y/N, I want you to be okay. You don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to tell me anything, but… that's all I want. For you to be okay and happy and... you can't lie to me and tell me that you're alright. You can kick me out as much as you want to, I promised I would let you do so, but I'll always be waiting for you right outside that door. If you'll allow me to... I'll always be here for you."

The tears come pouring out, and without a thought, you rush into him, sobbing into his chest. “Hey, hey,” he says, a hand in your hair and the other soothing your back. "I’m here. I told you I'm here.” You missed his embrace. Had assumed you’d never feel it again. You probably won’t, past this point.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you stare up at him. “Is it the stress?”

“No, Jungkook…. It’s.. you.”

“Me?!” he says, gesturing towards himself.

“Well, no, actually… I guess it’s me,” you mumble, staring at his hands, now at his sides.

“I don’t understand, Y/N.”

“Jungkook, we need to stop these study sessions. Not for a week but… I’m permanently kicking you out, and I don't know if I have it in me to ever unlock that stupid metaphorical door again.”

“Exile, huh?" To your surprise, he nods. "At least let me know this… Am I that annoying?”

Out of desperation, you almost say yes, but you’ve been cruel enough - Jungkook didn’t deserve any of it.

“No. No, not at all…”

He pauses. “I don't understand, but if this will make you happier, all I can say in this case is… thank you. I don't about my grades as much as you do, so I'm really just thank you for all this time. I…. I liked…. I liked spending this time... spending this time with you,” Jungkook lets out, his voice breaking.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes red. Was he about to cry too?

“It won’t,” you mumble.

“What?” he asks, looking down at you as if he were looking up, teary-eyed and innocent.

You either tell him, or tell him nothing and risk…. other people telling him, along with their own added commentary on how you weren’t good enough. It would be easier just to let that happen... Letting go of him yourself, despite the pain, would be more merciful on you both. So, you do, breaking away from his embrace.

“It won’t make me happier if we stopped.”

“Then why do we have to?”

“Jungkook, we need to stop because… for the first time in my life... I’ve set myself up for failure.”

“You’re the smartest person in the entire university. How on Earth did you set yourself up to fail?”

"Because I did it by stupidly falling for the best person in this entire university. I... like you, Jungkook," you spit out, hiding your face in your hands as soon as the confession leaves your lips.

“How is that setting yourself up for failure?” he sniffs.

You can’t help but notice a shift in his tone as he pulls your hands away from your face and tilts your chin towards him. He looked as serious as he sounded.

“Jungkook, be real.”

He stares at you, confused.

“You’re.... a star. Everyone here knows who you are - you're the best in every field imaginable - sports, art, music, academia, and on top of all of that, you're the sweetest, kindest, smartest - fucking best person I, well, everyone knows. And... look at you and look at me. I make sense of everything in this world, and this doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows it. They already give us weird looks for even sitting together. I know you just needed help, and I was happy to offer it, but I thought I'd be smarter than this. I think you probably offered to be there for me as a friend. I think we're friends, right? Either way, I think I've been an idiot for even thinking of you in that-"

Jungkook's lips meet yours, interrupting your ramble, train of thought, and your breathing with a kiss.

“You think too much," he whispers against your lips, stroking your soft cheek with the back of his index finger. "You can never set yourself up for failure, genius. I like you too.”

“No.... Stop," you say, taking two steps away from him. "Jungkook, you're being mean."

"Mean?!"

It had to have been a prank. Jungkook being so committed onto getting a good grade, once again.

"You can't use me like this. And what, you'll ghost me after the exam? After all the help? Pretend I never existed?"

"You say that and call me 'mean'? Do you really think I'd do that?" he asks, letting out a huff with his eyebrows furrowed. You'd never seen Jungkook.... angry. "I would never. Not to you, or anyone. If that were the case, if I weren't so goddamn in love with you, I'd be standing ashamed, fessing up in front of you instead of feeling so hurt and angry. The girl I like really thinks so low of me?" Taking a deep breath, Jungkook collects himself. "I wouldn't spend a semester with you if that was the case. I don't know why you'd think... that."

"It doesn't make sense, Jungkook...."

“it makes sense to me,” he says, stepping towards you until he is inches away and you can almost feel the heat between your bodies. “Why does it not make sense to you? You’re clever, aren't you? What’s that theory - every action has an equal and opposite reaction? You like me, and I like you. Equal. Two-ways. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“So… you aren’t just using me for help?” you ask. "You... like me?"

“No, no, I’m not using you for your brain…." he says snarkily before tapping his forehead against yours and letting out a smug laugh. "In fact, I think you’ve been pretty stupid.”

“Stupid?!” you recoil at a word you had never been called before.

“I said pretty stupid. And by that, I mean stupid pretty - in that you're unbelievably attractive - but also pretty kind of stupid, yes. You’re smarter than this, usually…." Jungkook envelops his arms around your waist once again, trapping you. Stunned, all you're able to do is look into his eyes as he goes on.

"Y/N, I want you to think for a second… Did I really need all that help I asked for? Did I really make it onto the Dean's List when I was supposedly doing that badly? Did I really not understand? Did I really need to sit beside you while we both worked? You said it yourself, I'm among the smartest kids in this school. I’ll let you in on a secret… sometimes I used to finish up my work before you and just played mini-games on the computer.”

Jungkook's hands find your face, pushing back a strand of your hair and giggling at what must've been a puzzled look on your face. When your gaze wanders in realization, trying to put all the pieces together, his hand cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Sure, you helped me a little bit, but it was... heaven getting you to explain things to me, especially the things I already knew. It meant I could just spend my time staring at you, getting all passionate and excited. Do you know how wide you smile when I act like I 'get it'? Or whenever I actually do. It's why I keep asking you to repeat it - I can never retain any of the new information because all my brain wants to focus on is you.

For God's sake, ask Taehyung and Jimin. Ask them how much I talk about you. Did you ever actually listen to what they say when they specifically see us together in here?"

"I assumed they were making fun of you," you mumble.

Jungkook scoffs. "Yeah, no, Y/N. They tease me for having the guts to fight but not to confess, they kept trying to pressure me to do so."

It's hard to remember that Jungkook was a trained fighter when his embrace felt so safe, you think, staring at his torso in disbelief.

"Still don't believe me? Ask Mr. P how we got assigned together for that paper.”

The sentence stuns you to your core more than anything, jerking your head up to face him.

“I never needed that much help. I just… I wanted to spend time with the girl I'd had a crush on since I got here and didn’t know how to. I like you…. I always have…. idiot,” he says, pulling you closer to him until his lips meet yours in another kiss.

Your little acquaintance with Jungkook began some time ago. But there had been no friendly introductions; you had had a knife to the throat of one of his members and the next thing you knew, you were being pressed against the ground with Jungkook at your back.

Over time, you had proved to be quite a match for each other. Just as your gangs skirted around each other, testing boundaries, winning and losing skirmishes for territory, the two of you were seemingly in orbit of the other. One way or another, you would always end up toe to toe, a constant challenge – or, perhaps, annoyance – to the other.

Tonight may be no different. Your eyes locked as you passed his table. Always close enough to touch, but too wise to move until the time was right.

In your line of work, you had to settle for a cool distance with the enemy. After all, you knew that while you were capable of taking him down, the opposite was also true. And either action would invite more conflict that your gangs’ tentative hostility could bear.

You approached and Jungkook sat back, anticipating your arrival. Neither of you would dare make a move in here, you knew that. But it was always fun to flirt with danger.

His smirk grew, a brow cocked as he waited for you to bite first. A simple ‘what are you looking at, Jeon?’ was enough for a spark.

Instead, your expression darkened.

“Not tonight, Jeon.”

Without even staying to hear a response, you kept your head down and moved past.

Jungkook frowned, leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of you, melting into the hubbub of this bar. Something was off.

For the brief moment he could, he scanned your form. He could be imagining it, but were you limping? If you were, you hid it well. In any case, you were gone too soon for him to be sure.

Still, his eyes lingered. He swallowed down a growing unease. This wasn’t like you – but then, why should that mean anything to him? Better still, he should revel in this. To have you in such a sour mood, something must have happened in favour of his gang. And at the expense of you.

He pretended that made him feel better.

But Jungkook had no time to spare thinking of you. Why he would ever want to was a concern in itself.

He was here for a reason. And that reason was crossing to the bar right now.

The man was alone, but Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough to rule out the possibility of anyone keeping an eye from the crowd. This was a new player in town, Ilwoon, but wasn’t someone Namjoon was keen to put in the ground straight away. He was clearly smart, having gained connections before trying to emerge as a powerful figure.

Jungkook had been given instructions for a hassle-free discussion and deal, but he took that with a pinch of salt. They didn’t know much about this guy, and it was Jungkook’s job to show him they weren’t going to be pushed around easily.

Still, he approached with a decidedly cool exterior, letting nothing slip in his expression.

“Two Manhattans.” The order confirmed to Jungkook that this was in fact the right man. His voice was rough, a contrast to the fine trimmed haircut he sported.

Allowing a cordial smile onto his face, Jungkook seated himself beside the newcomer while the bartender busied herself.

“Nice evening,” Jungkook muttered off-hand, “busy.”

Ilwoon bristled, clearly not sure what to make of the smalltalk. But a moment later, a smile bloomed on his face. Jungkook didn’t like it at all, but made sure not to flinch.

“Good place to end a long day,” the man said.

Their drinks slid across the counter, Jungkook watching the other take a sip first, taking note of the way his dark eyes crawled over the occupants of the bar. Like he owned the lot.

Taking a sip too, Jungkook could pass the disgusted curl of his lips off as a response to the burn of alcohol. About to resign himself to a tense but necessary conversation, he turned his eyes back to his drinking partner.

Jungkook’s hand tightened around his glass, not lowering it to the tabletop. Frozen, he stared.

Ilwoon lowered his arm, revealing a charming red pendant which was just visible around his shirt buttons. Finishing his own drink, the man noticed Jungkook’s staring and frowned, shifting in his seat. A small flash of red bounced from the jewel at the movement.

It was beautiful. Jungkook had always thought so. But that was just the problem.

“That isn’t yours.”

Raising his eyes fractionally, Jungkook finally met the man’s gaze with steel in his own.

Quirking a brow, that same repulsive smile flitted onto Ilwoon’s face.

“Told you I’d been having fun in this town,” the man shrugged, “now, shall we talk?”

Fast as a whip, Jungkook had sent his chair clattering to the floor as he sprung at the man, grabbing him roughly by his collar and sending him colliding with the bar.

Any previous noise dissipated, silence shooting through crowd place like a wave.

Jungkook didn’t even break the man’s gaze. One of the glasses slowly rolled off the table, smashed loudly on the floor.

No one moved.

Holding his stance, Jungkook’s only move was to tighten his grip, drawing closer to the man.

“For someone in your position, I would think you’d want to play nice,” he hissed.

Despite the way his feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor and his breath grew shallower, the other man narrowed his eyes, spitting back with vitriol.

“No honour among thieves, I thought. This shouldn’t be your concern.”

“You’re going to tell me who is and isn’t my concern?” Jungkook all but yelled, shaking him.

“I never touched one of yours!”

“They don’t belong to you either,” Jungkook growled. His spare hand reached up, just below the one holding his foe, to grab the locket.

It was true that it was nothing to do with bangtan. That his actions now would spark rumours of some weakness, some compromise. That he need not be interested in the fate of anyone other than the boys he called family.

But Jungkook didn’t recall seeing this around your neck earlier.

He tore it off. Releasing the man and leaving him panting, leaning against the counter, he stalked away without looking back.

The thin metal chain felt heavy in Jungkook’s fist.

Falling fast and heavy, his shoes clattered up the stairs. If Ilwoon had any sense, he would be long gone already, but he was a long way down Jungkook’s list right now.

The bouncer nodded him through instantly, Jungkook not even sparing time to look at her.

While this bar was supposed to be a neutral place for gangs (something he would certainly have to explain if the owner got wind of his little stunt downstairs), many of them frequented the place. With the absence of violence came somewhere for meetings, perhaps the only spot this side of bangtan’s territory where Jungkook could brush shoulders with enemies without trading blows.

At the moment, he was rather closer to shoving them as he carved a path through the crowd. The top floor was solely for those in his… profession. He had no doubt you had been heading here when he saw you earlier.

Emerging from the dense group by the bar, he quickly scanned the tables, ruling each one out.

Chewing his cheek, he exhaled harshly through his nose, turning his head erratically. You were nowhere in sight.

There was only one place left.

Walking purposefully past the tables, he pushed through another door. The bathrooms were here, four gender neutral ones lining the corridor.

Toeing open the nearest, he peered inside. It was empty, as was the lockable cubicle inside. Crossing the hall in one stride, he tried the next with the same results. The third, however-

You eyes snapped up, meeting his in the mirror just before you whirled around with a gasp, straightening your top.

Jungkook’s brow creased, gaze lingering even though you were now totally covered by your turtleneck. Once again, it had been too quick to be sure, but-

“What happened to you?”

Jungkook’s intense gaze met yours as he stepped inside, the door falling closed behind him. He didn’t miss your guarded stance, the way your eyes flickered to the exit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeon,” you replied tersely.

Turning back to the mirror, you leaned over the sink to make a show of inspecting your hair. As if you couldn’t care less about his invasion.

But much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook may know you more than most people. Despite your… situation, it was hard to keep secrets and emotions at bay when your lives revolved around pushing the other, whether it be in a physical fight or in tactical play. Even those in your own circle were kept at a further distance. Trust wasn’t exactly an abundant resource in your world.

You just hoped the amount of times Jungkook had seen you hurt, sometimes from his own doing, wouldn’t pay off now. You knew he was still watching you.

He ground his teeth, then looked down at something.

“What’s this then?”

Turning back to him in irritation, you opened your mouth, only to freeze like that when you saw the pendant dangling from his fingers. Your father had given you that, a symbol of your belonging to his empire just before he died. While many of his members believed you weren’t fit to be with them, it reminded you they wrong.

You always wore it.

Until…

“Where did you get that?”

“What happened to you?”

Jungkook repeated his question rapidly in response to your own. All it prompted was more silence. But he had watched your unbothered air crack in front of him the moment he showed you the locket – something was wrong.

“Listen, Jungkook,” you spoke low, trying not to betray your shaking voice, “I’ve had quite enough for today. If you want to add to that, go ahead. Just tell the cleaners on your way out.”

Your words jarred Jungkook. Reminded him of all the reasons you would expect him to be here, and with good reason. A startling realisation of how far his feelings seemed to have strayed from the familiarity of your rivalry.

He took a breath, horrified. Expecting you to laugh any second, or even kick him in the face.

But you just waited.

“What did he do to you?” he pressed, taking a step.

He jolted to a stop the next second when you actually stepped away from him, backing against the sink.

“You know Ilwoon?”

“I hate the bastard, but yes,” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth, “care to tell me why he had this?”

You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think?”

“Is it the reason there’s blood in the sink?”

“Well done, Sherlock,” you bit, “don’t you think you could save your gloating for later?”

“He hurt you.”

You smirked drily.

“Are you just bitter because you never managed?”

He stared in disbelief. How were joking about this?

You still stared defiantly up at him, arms folded over your chest.

His next words came as little more than a breath.

“Let me see.”

You didn’t move.

“I’m sorry?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly hesitant to meet your eyes.

“Let- let me see. I can help.”

You were silent for so long that Jungkook looked back up at you, finding you still staring at him like he was crazy.

Perhaps he was.

But eventually, you dropped your arms and stepped to one side with a soft huff.

Stepping forward, Jungkook laid the necklace quietly on the counter before reaching out. Just before his fingers touched the hem of the fabric, he looked back up for confirmation.

You took a breath. Somehow, this didn’t feel as strange as it should.

A small nod from you, and he gently lifted the material, a crease emerging between his brows.

Chewing your lip, you looked away. Still, you couldn’t help eyeing the damage in the mirror beside you. The wound wasn’t of too much concern, but the blood was certainly a sight to behold. Your cleaning had done nothing to improve it.

A slash ran across your side. He had poor aim, the knife striking your ribs which had deflected it, extending the cut around your side where it was hard for you to reach without having to contort and receive a warning blast of pain from the injured spot.

You couldn’t help the hiss that left you when Jungkook’s fingers brushed against it. Withdrawing instantly, he looked back to you.

“Sorry, go ahead,” you muttered, averting your eyes again.

Still, when he turned on the tap to wet his hand, it returned cautiously, barely touching if he could help it. For the odd time he aggravated the wound, you simply bit your tongue.

Turning your eyes towards yourself in the mirror, you watched blankly. What should have been the most bizarre scene felt all too easy. Jungkook’s gaze remained focussed, fixed on his hands as they were painted red with your blood before it swirled away down the drain.

His hands left you then, prompting you to whip around in panic. Where was he going?

All you were met with was a low chuckle, a lopsided smile falling onto Jungkook’s lips. He stayed where he was, shrugging off his jacket.

“What are you-?”

Your question died on your lips as he bunched it up, bending slightly to tend to your wound again. Lost for words, you simply raised your arm slightly to give him better access as he pressed the fabric against your side.

Part of you felt bad for what was clearly an expensive jacket – the material wasn’t scratchy at all, barely irritating your injury.

“It should be treated properly,” he said.

“I’ll live.”

“I don’t doubt it. But… you’ll have someone look at it, right?”

You quirked a brow at him.

“So you can give me another one next week?”

“Of course not!”

His exclamation took you by surprise. Apparently, it did the same to him, both of you blinking at each other in the following quiet.

He sighed roughly, looking down to his shifting feet for a moment.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Why would I do that?”

Your protest was weak and you knew it. Your voice came out tired. The care Jungkook had just showed you left you caving to the very thing you had always tried to resist. But after today’s events, you just wanted to let your guard down and tell someone.

He didn’t even have to say anything else. You sighed, leaned back against the counter.

“The new guy wanted to meet up, talk business with our gang. I didn’t turn up expecting anything, but the moment he saw they sent me, he seemed to take that as a sign of weakness. Not a word of business, just him being a creep until he attacked me when I wasn’t having it.”

Kicking the tiled floor as you spoke, a bitter scowl took over your face. You were more than capable of taking on/quick enough to take on this stupid newbie, but the knife had really taken you by surprise.

“I shouldn’t have even given him the chance,” you cursed, “but when this happened, it threw me enough for him to grab me. He seemed to enjoy it. Like that necklace was a bleeding trophy.”

Jungkook’s expression of hatred mirrored your own.

When your eyes fell on the jewellery sitting on the side, his followed. Saying nothing, he reached for it, stepped behind you.

Instinctively, you turned, meeting his eyes as he came behind you in the mirror. The necklace glinted innocently in the light as he raised it above your head, fastening it out of sight at the nape of your neck.

His fingers only grazed your skin as he pulled away. And if he saw the bruises on your neck, he said nothing about them. He knew all too well how humiliating it could be to come out this side of what should have been an easy fight.

“He wanted discussions with bangtan as well,” Jungkook said, as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.

But his smirk in the mirror ignited hope in you again.

Spinning around to face him, you pretended not to notice just how close this brought you to Jungkook. You were no stranger to being a breath away from him, but it was a different experience now you weren’t trying to attack each other.

“You mean he’s been in contact with both of us?”

“Would have thought he’d be smart enough to know not to get between enemies. When our bosses find out he wants to play us like this I don’t think they’ll be too happy, do you?”

Like falling into your magnetic pull, Jungkook shifted closer still. A smirk was growing over your features, eyes glinting in the light.

Your gaze dropped slightly, a finger coming to rest on his chest. Looking up at him, you tilted your head playfully. This confidence fit you much better, more familiar than the weakness Ilwoon had inflicted on you.

“And what about how we found out?”

“I don’t think that should be of concern when he’s running for his life.”

And you fell together at last, all that time you had spent fighting fading in the work of an instant. The tongue that loved to cut you down now tasted so sweet as you indulged in his lips at last. How you had ever been able to resist, you didn’t know.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts💜

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He grabs two mugs from the hanging cupboard and places them onto the table, taking a seat in front of you. "Coffee?" He asks, grabbing two pods of coffee from the drawer.

You nod at him, pursing your lips together. "Yes please," You reply, giving him a thankful smile.

Jungkook nods back and pops the coffee pod into the machine, waiting for the liquid to finish pouring out before he replaces the mug with a new one.

As he prepares the coffee, you slide a plate of croissant and butter onto his plate, saving the other plate for you. "Here, eomoni had these delivered yesterday."

He fondly chuckles at the mention of his mother, gratefully accepting the plate. "Thanks," He mumbles, sliding a mug of coffee towards you.

Shortly after your rather sudden wedding, you and Jungkook had fallen into some form of a routine in the mornings upon moving in together. In a way, it was one of the only times when you two would be in the same place alone, giving you both the perfect opportunity to genuinely get to know one another without any sort of pressure from others.

It was a start, definitely, as it helped you both get a grasp of the other's personality. From only knowing Jungkook previously as the rather intimidating man, you now slowly found yourself growing fond of the man you called your husband.

"So," You start, settling down on the seat across from him. "Busy day today?"

Jungkook nods and gulps down his coffee, "Yeah, there's a base in Daegu we've been trying to take over." He explains, "We're planning on finalizing the entire plan today."

You take a bite of your bread, nodding to show you were listening. "Ah, I think I heard about that from appa." You reply, hinting towards a conversation you had with your dad a couple of days ago.

"Hm, that would make sense." He replies with a chuckle, "Your dad was one of the people who proposed it after all."

You smile at this, shaking your head at him upon thinking of your dad. As you take a sip of your coffee, Jungkook glances towards you, tilting his head curiously.

"How about you? Anything exciting today?"

He was likely referring to the small art museum you owned, the place being used commonly as a venue for rather exclusive events in Seoul. You both had gone there a select number of times, having even met there for the first time when Bangtan held an auction at the location.

You look towards him and chuckle, shaking your head. "Not really, just more emails about some possible future projects." You respond, "I guess it's still better than guns and knives, though." You add, crinkling your nose.

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh and nods again, eating the last of his croissant. "Well, speaking of guns and knives," He says, "I think I should get going. They’re running the final plan by us in an hour."

You nod, waiting for him to stand up as you finish your coffee. "I'll see you later though, right?" He asks, pushing his chair back into the table as he grabs his phone. "We have that dinner at Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul."

"Of course," You reply, giving him a small smile. "Just text me what time you'll finish at work."

Jungkook smiles back and nods, putting his wallet in his pocket. "Well, I'm off. Thanks for breakfast, (Y/N)." He says, waving at you.

You wave back at him, watching as he leaves the kitchen before you glance back down towards the used porcelain plates on the table. You slowly begin collecting them, stacking up the used coffee mugs on top of the plates.

As you bring them towards the sink, you suddenly hear rushed footsteps by the doorway, immediately causing you to glance towards the source. Upon looking, your surprised expression quickly melts into a relieved one once you realize it was just Ms. Jung, one of the oldest helpers that rotated around the various Bangtan households.

"Oh, Mrs. Jeon, please do not worry yourself with that." She quickly says, walking towards you. "I can finish up here. You should go upstairs and get started on work."

You shake your head at this, smiling at her assuringly. "Nonsense, Ms. Jung. It's not that much to clean up anyways." You reply, "Besides, you should have your breakfast first."

She smiles at this, reaching forward to help you move the rest of the dishes to the sink. "Aigoo, don't bother yourself with that—I've already eaten." She says with a chuckle, "Now, why don't you go and start on your work? You wouldn't want to be late for your dinner with Mr. Jeon later, right?"

You sigh in defeat, shaking your head once again. "You're impossible to argue with, Ms. Jung." You say with a laugh, smiling when she joins you in laughter.

As you dry your hands with a nearby towel, you suddenly see your phone buzzing on the table, causing you to walk towards it. When you see the contact name, your eyebrows immediately furrow in confusion, hanging the towel back on its rack before you grab onto the phone.

"I'll just take this outside." You tell Ms. Jung, giving her a wave. "Thank you so much for doing this."

She simply chuckles and waves back, putting on the dishwashing gloves. "No need to thank me, Mrs. Jeon. It is my job after all."

You walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, swiftly unlocking your phone to find Seokjin's contact. Once you do, you tap onto it, waiting for the screen to show his name before you bring the phone to your ear.

"Hey," He answers after a few rings, seemingly in a good mood. "How's my dongsaeng doing?"

You smile in amusement at his question, leaning against the wall beside you. You've known Seokjin far longer than any other member in Bangtan, this being due to the closeness of both your fathers.

"I'm good, oppa." You reply, glancing downwards to your feet. "How about you?"

Seokjin hums from the other line, "I'm alright too, just the usual work stuff." He says, "Anyways, did you see my text?"

You furrow your eyebrows, briefly moving your phone away from your ear to check your notifications. Once the screen lights up, you quickly see a link sent from his phone.

"Oh, I just saw it now." You reply, bringing the phone back to your ear. "It's a link?"

"Yeah," He affirms, "There's a new Japanese restaurant that opened up across the street from us. I saw it and remembered how you were raving about sushi the other night."

You let out a soft laugh at this, "Aw, you remembered that?"

Seokjin snickers in response, "How could I not?" He says, "I might've been a bit drunk but my memory never fails me."

You playfully roll your eyes at his arrogance, a chuckle leaving your lips. "Well, moving on," You reply, "Why'd you send me the link to their website?"

"I was wondering if you'd maybe want to have lunch with me today." He says, "We haven't had a meal together—as in just the two of us—in a pretty long time."

You hum at this, realizing he was right. "That is true." You respond, "So you want me to drive over there?"

"Yeah, I was thinking you could send me your orders and we could eat it in my office. I hear the tables tend to get full pretty easily."

Upon hearing his plan, you suddenly feel a little more hesitant. "I don't know, oppa. Wouldn't it be better to just eat at the restaurant instead? I spoke to Jungkook this morning and you guys seem to have some pretty important things happening today."

"It'll be fine, (Y/N)-ah." Seokjin replies, "The meeting will happen in the east wing and all our offices are located in the west wing. As long as you stay in my office, I don't think you'll be interrupting anything."

"Besides," He adds, "You're a direct member of Bangtan now. You're more than welcome to come to headquarters anytime."

You ponder over it for a few more moments in your head, biting your lip. "Hm," You mumble, toying with the hem of your shirt. "Fine, I guess I can trust you." You reply, glancing back up to the wall in front of you.

"Great, then!" Seokjin exclaims, "Do you think you can get here by around 12?"

"Yeah, sure." You respond, looking down at your watch.

As you begin walking to your room, you hear someone opening the door from the other line, causing Seokjin to clear his throat. "Alright, I have to go but I'll see you in a bit?"

"See you, oppa." You say with a small smile.

Jungkook drives into the basement of headquarters, parking his black Mercedes AMG GT 63 S in the reserved parking space by the elevator. He swiftly leaves the car as soon as he turns his engine off, placing his car keys and his gun in his pocket before he unlocks his phone.

“Hello?” Jimin says, picking up the phone.

“Hey hyung, I just got here. Are they ready with the plan?” Jungkook asks, walking up to the elevator.

Jimin audibly shifts from the other line, “Yeah, I spoke to Yeonjun just now and they have everything finalized. Mr. (L/N) gave them the go-signal”

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, walking into the elevator. “I’ll see you in a bit, hyung.”

He presses the button to the 15th floor and waits for the doors to close before he looks down at his phone. His eyes quickly travel to a sudden notification, tapping it before it redirects him to his messages application.

Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul: Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon. The VIP room has been reserved for you and your wife later at 6PM, as requested. If you would like me to make any changes to the reservation, please do not hesitate to send me a message.

He licks his lips as he reads the message, nodding affirmatively at the details. Just on time, the elevator doors in front of him open and he walks out, directly walking towards the conference room. Once he’s in the hall, he curtly nods to the guard standing by the door, muttering a soft thanks when the guard opens the door for him.

“Guk, you’re here.” Namjoon says, motioning for him to come to the head of the room.

Jungkook walks towards the leader as the rest of the men politely bow to the Bangtan member, raising his eyebrows at him. “Am I late?” He asks, the leader shaking his head.

“Just on time. We’re just waiting for Taehyung to arrive.” Namjoon replies, Jungkook nodding understandingly before he walks to Jimin at the back of the room.

He stands next to the older member who greets him with a pat on the shoulder before he once again unlocks his phone. He opens your last conversation together and types out a text, reading it in his head a few times before he finally presses send.

jungkook: hey, i just got a text from pierre gagnaire and they confirmed our reservation’s at 6. is that okay with you?

After a few moments, his phone vibrates, making him look at the notification almost immediately.

(y/n): hey, jungkook! yes, that time is alright with me. i mean, you’re picking me up anyways so i don’t think you should be asking me about the time haha. but either way, 6 should be just fine :)

He reads through your message, a small smile forming on his face as he unlocks his phone to reply.

jungkook: great, i’ll see you later then. don’t forget to dress formally :)

As he types out a reply, he doesn’t notice Jimin watching with a slightly amused expression, only realizing it when the older member suddenly elbows him. He immediately looks up towards him, a confused expression on his face as he looks at his hyung questionably.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asks, hand still holding onto his phone.

Jimin simply snickers and shakes his head, “I just wanted to know who you were texting.” He teases, “I can’t remember the last time I saw you smiling like that while using your phone.”

Upon hearing this, Jungkook straightens up, clearing his throat before looking towards his phone to send the message. “It’s no one.” He says, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket.

The older member opens his mouth to say another teasing remark, but he’s cut short when Namjoon suddenly claps his hands, signifying that the meeting was about to start.

“Thank you for the lunch, oppa. It was really good.” You say, beaming at Seokjin as he leads you out of his office.

He smiles and pats your head, “No problem, (Y/N)-ie.” He replies, handing you your bag.

You accept it gratefully and hang the bag onto your shoulder, placing your phone inside your pocket. As you do so, Seokjin stares at you with raised eyebrows, making you look at him confusedly.

“Did I forget anything?” You ask with a chuckle, making him shake his head.

He looks at his watch before glancing back towards you, “Don’t you want to go and visit Guk?” He suggests, “The meeting is probably over by now.”

“I don’t know, oppa.” You say, “He seemed pretty serious earlier when he talked about how busy he’d be today.”

He huffs in response, shaking his head. “You two are married for Christ’s sake. How are you supposed to get to know each other if you’re too shy to even go and visit him?” He says, giving you a nudge on the shoulder.

You smile at him sheepishly, causing him to playfully roll his eyes at you before he gently pushes you towards the hallway. “Alright, alright.” He says, “Just get home safe, yeah?”

As he pushes you away, you let out a laugh and walk back to give him a hug, grinning when you hear him grumble. “Thanks for inviting me.” You say before pulling away, “I’m off!”

You wave at him as you walk away, chuckling when he waves back at you. As you make a turn in the hallway, you flinch upon bumping into a person. You instinctively glance towards them, eyebrows raising in surprise when the man quickly avoids eye contact.

“Sorry,” He mutters before walking away, leaving you to watch as he swiftly walks away.

Despite the rather quick encounter you had with him, you couldn’t help but have noticed the man’s long hair and how it was styled into a bun, the hairstyle reminding you of a guard that used to accompany your family in your childhood home. But you simply shrug it off when he walks down the hallway, moving on in your own way as well.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was well finished with the meeting, tiredly walking into his office to get some rest. He sighs in relief as he takes a seat in his chair, eyes fluttering shut when he leans against the backrest. “Thank god it’s over.” He mutters, swirling his chair from side to side.

As he keeps his eyes closed, he suddenly hears distant quick footsteps, causing his eyebrows to furrow while he slowly opens his eyes. He looks towards the door, hand slowly grabbing the gun on the table.

Slowly and steadily, the footsteps get louder, Jungkook slowly standing up from his chair while aiming the gun towards the door. Then, he suddenly hears a loud gunshot outside, making his eyes narrow as he keeps his them focused.

Then, the door suddenly slams open, revealing a distressed Yeonjun who had a gun in his hand.

Upon seeing him, Jungkook puts down his gun, looking at the younger man expectantly. “What’s going on?” He asks, grabbing his phone from the table.

Yeonjun swallows, putting his gun in his back pocket. “We’re being attacked.”

Jungkook runs into Namjoon’s office, huffing as he swiftly shuts the door behind him. “Hyung; what’s going on?” He asks, stress evident in his voice.

But no one hears him, he realizes, when he sees how stressed everyone already was. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin were all busy monitoring the screens on the leader’s table while Taehyung and Yoongi were both actively talking on the phone with some men in other locations of the building.

Seokjin though, the maknae noticed, seemed to be trying to reach someone, confusing Jungkook slightly.

“Hobi, have them put the building on lockdown. No one is leaving the damn building until we find out who’s behind this.” Namjoon instructs, looking at the CCTV footage on the screen. “Guk, do you think you can point out some people here?”

Jungkook snaps out of his gaze, nodding to the leader as he walks to the screen. “Yeah,” He says, scanning the people in the frame. “I uh, I recognize everyone there except for the one with the long hair.”

As Namjoon starts instructing some people through the intercoms, Jungkook scans through the other monitors on the table, poking his tongue against his cheek as he sees gunfight after gunfight. Then, when his gaze lands on a specific portion of the screen, his eyes suddenly widen.

“Wait, is that (Y/N)?” He asks, suddenly sounding much more uptight.

Namjoon looks at the screen in surprise upon hearing the maknae’s remark, opening his mouth to reply when Seokjin beats him to it. “She’s still here?” He asks in worry, rushing to the monitor to look. “God—I had a bad feeling when she wasn’t picking up her phone.”

Jungkook glances towards the older member in disbelief. “You brought (Y/N) here? Knowing the delicate situation Bangtan is in right now?” He loudly exclaims, pausing as he lets out a scoff. “Hyung—don’t you remember how we promised Mr. (L/N) we would never put his daughter in danger? What wrre you thinking?”

Seokjin’s eyes narrow at Jungkook’s accusations, quick to defend himself. “Well, excuse me for just wanting her to get out of that goddamn house once in awhile!” He exclaims loudly, jabbing a finger against the younger member’s chest.

“Forget the promise you made to her dad—what happened to the promise you made to me about being a good husband to her, huh? I understand this wasn’t exactly something you chose but, you don’t even try to bring her out to dinner, nor do you make an effort to invite her to our gatherings.” Seokjin responds, eyes narrowing.

“For all I know, you might even be seeing other people behind her back. So don’t you dare get mad at me for simply trying to give the girl a little more of the happiness she deserves.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches at Seokjin’s remark and he instinctively grabs onto his hyung’s shirt, hands shaking from anger. “You don’t get to assume shit about us.” He responds, not afraid to tower over Seokjin despite being younger.

Before he could continue, Yoongi quickly separates the two members, “Okay, that’s enough!” He shouts, pushing them apart. “You’re both here using all your energy to argue when we all know damn well it won’t get us anywhere. So instead of just wasting it all away, let’s just get to (Y/N) before this turns into any more of a mess, alright?” He says, eyes burning into the two members.

Jungkook simply glares at the two older members before grabbing a gun from the table and walking to the door. “Yah! Where do you think you’re going?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows furrowed.

The maknae simply slams the door open and rushes out, his intentions clear.

The leader sighs and puts his face in his hands before looking back towards the remaining members. “Yoongi-hyung, Jimin-ah, I think you two should follow Jungkook to make sure he doesn't do anything reckless.” He instructs, “The rest of us will go to the east wing. It’s about time we end this mess.”

“What do you mean the place is on lockdown?” You ask with a frown, crossing your arms in frustration.

The guard looks at you apologetically, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, miss. I’m following direct orders from my boss. There seems to be a problem in the east wing so they’re not letting anyone out.”

You sigh at this, thinking about all the work waiting at home. “But I’m not involved. Please, sir, are you sure you really can’t let me out?” You plead in desperation,

But he simply shakes his head, making you huff in defeat. You ruffle your hair in frustration and unlock your phone, silently debating whether or not to bother one of the members. As your finger hovers over Jungkook’s contact to give him a call, you suddenly get distracted.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice suddenly asks, causing you to glance back up.

You sigh in relief when you see Yugyeom, one of Jungkook’s close friends. You two have only met a handful of times, but it was nice to finally see a familiar face.

“Yugyeom, thank god.” You reply, walking towards him. “I’ve been trying to leave the building but the guard keeps saying we’re on lockdown?”

Yugyeom sighs in distress, turning towards the guard. “Yah, you’ve been speaking to Jeon Jungkook’s wife this whole time and you didn’t even think to update us on the intercom? Namjoon-hyung has been sending out multiple messages telling us to look for her.” He scolds in frustration.

The guard’s eyes widen as he looks at you, immediately looking downwards in shame. “I’m so sorry, sir. I had no idea she was Mrs. Jeon.” He says, making Yugyeom click his tongue in frustration.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now.” He says, “Just keep guard. The intruders have begun to shoot from outside as well.”

He looks towards you, nodding towards a hallway. “Come on, I have to lead you somewhere safe.”

He leads you through a series of halls, constantly checking to make sure no one was hiding behind any doors. “Hello? This is Kim from the J-division. I have (Y/N) with me. We’re in Hall 4.” He says through his intercom, looking behind him to make sure you were following.

You walk behind nervously, unable to fully grasp the situation. “There are intruders?” You ask him softly when he turns his intercom off, the surprise and fear clear in your voice.

But as Yugyeom opens his mouth to respond, a reply is suddenly heard on his device. “Gyeom, this is Jungkook. Get (Y/N) to the 6th. I’ll meet you there.”

You slightly flinch at the sudden voice, Jungkook’s serious tone making you even more tense. Yugyem notices this as he glances towards you, eyes softening as he gives you a reassuring smile.

“A few people just managed to breach the area.” He says, “Don’t worry though, they’re all in the east wing so as long as the guards don’t let them through, you shouldn’t need to be scared of anyone getting here.” He explains, leading you through a hidden door.

You nod and walk past the door, watching as Yugyeom closes it behind you. “Are the others okay?”

“The seven of them are okay, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He says with a chuckle. “Guk should be on his way to meet us right now.”

He opens another door for you, causing you to smile at him gratefully before walking through it. “Thank you, Yugyeom.” You mumble, “I’m just a tad bit scared, I guess.”

“No problem, (Y/N).” He says, looking towards the hallway.

Suddenly, as you both continue brisk walking through the halls, Yugyeom hears ruffling through the speaker. He furrowed his eyebrows and pauses, turning on his mic. “Hello?” He asks, silently asking you to stand behind him.

“This is Park, I need some backup in the infirmary. Stat.”

You frown at this, looking at Yugyeom. “Was that Jinyoung-ssi?” You ask, knowing how close the two of them are.

Yugyeom bites his lip nervously, clearly reluctant to reply. “Yeah, uh—the infirmary is a few halls down.” He replies, “It means the intruders must have entered the west wing.”

Your eyes widen upon hearing his remark, hands stiffening. “Can someone copy? I can hear gunshots down the hall.” Jinyoung says through the speaker, causing both you and Yugyeom to swallow nervously.

“Y-You should go help him.” You tell Yugyeom, patting his arm. “He needs it.”

He shakes his head, looking towards you. “I’ll bring you down the hall to Guk first. I can’t risk anything.”

You sigh, looking at him exasperatedly. “If someone gets hurt because of me, I won’t be able to live with it.” You say, “I’ll be fine, Yugyeom-ah.”

He pursed his lips for a moment before sighing as well, ruffling the back of his hair. “Hello? This is Kim. Hyung, I’m on the way to the infirmary.” He replies, looking at you. “Just walk down that hall and enter through the door on the right. Guk should be there.”

You nod, giving Yugyeom the smallest of smiles. “Be careful.” You say, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he nods back.

“You too.”

The two of you walk your separate ways, leaving you to walk the rest of the way alone. Your hands begin to shake unconsciously, glancing around you to make sure no one is following you.

Finally, you make it to the door Yugyeom was talking about, holding in a breath as you slowly open the door. You reluctantly peek your head through, heart stopping when you see that no one is inside the room.

Looking behind you one last time, you walk inside the room, closing the door behind you. Instinctively, you begin looking around the room, careful to make sure you weren’t making any noise.

As you look to the right, you suddenly walk into a hard chest, causing you to flinch back immediately and hide your face behind your arms.

“(Y/N), it’s me.” A gentle voice says, “It’s Jungkook.”

You look up slowly, letting out a shaky sigh as you find yourself relaxing. Before you know it, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest in silence.

Jungkook’s resolve softens as he hugs you back, a hand reaching behind to pat your lower back. “You’re okay now.” He whispers, “I got you.”

You glance towards him, looking upwards slightly. “Sorry, I just—I got a little frightened.” You mumble, heart still beating erratically.

He nods understandingly, hand moving up to caress your shoulder. “It’s fine, I was honestly a bit scared too.” He confesses with a sigh, “When I found out you were in the building I just—” He says, his voice trailing off as he shakes his head.

You purse your lips at this, looking at him apologetically.

“Guk, did you find her?” Someone suddenly asks through the intercom, making Jungkook sigh as he pulls away from you slightly.

“Yeah, I got her. We’re on our way back now.” He replies, glancing towards you as he offers you his hand. “Do you think you’re ready to leave the room?”

You nod nervously, hand reaching up to grasp his. He gives you a small smile of assurance before looking back ahead, gently opening the door with his other hand. “Just stay behind me and follow my lead.” He whispers, grip tightening around your hand.

The two of you begin walking outside, occasionally looking from side-to-side for any possible surprises. Jungkook keeps his hand wrapped around yours as you both walk, eyes sharp.

Suddenly, you two hear a series of footsteps from afar, causing you two to pause. Jungkook glances towards you, raising his index finger to his lips before looking back towards the front. His hand moves towards his pocket, reaching for his gun.

Then, in the blink of an eye, a bullet suddenly flies across the hall.

Jungkook quickly drags you to the ground, hiding you behind him as he begins shooting bullets towards the man hiding behind the wall. “Stay behind me.” He instructs, grabbing a nearby chair in the hallway. “Shit—” He mutters, placing it in front of him.

You grasp onto Jungkook’s shirt and hide behind him, shutting your eyes closed as you cringe at the loud sounds. But as you continue hiding, you suddenly hear something fall behind you. You glance behind you, eyebrows furrowing as you try to find the source of the sound.

Just on time, Jungkook finally shoots the man in front of you two, letting out a sigh. “Geez,” He mutters, standing up to grab the man’s gun.

You stay standing behind the chair, still distracted as you scan your surroundings. “(Y/N)? You alright?” Jungkook asks, making you snap out of your gaze as he offers his hand to you.

“Oh, yeah.” You reply, holding onto his hand before standing up. “Sorry, I got a little distracted.” You add, watching as he smiles and shakes his head.

But even as he helps you up, you can’t shake off the uneasy feeling inside you, something which causes you to look behind you one last time. This time though, you notice that the position of a small table in the hallway had moved slightly, making your eyes narrow.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Jungkook ask, his voice a bit distant in your head as you focus on the sight in front of you.

You stare at the table closely, eyes widening when you make eye contact with a man hiding behind the table. The same long-haired man you saw in the hallway earlier.

In a split-second, you see him bring out his gun, causing you to look towards Jungkook quickly. “Jungkook, watch out—” You reply, grasping both his hands to move him away when you two hear a loud bang.

He quickly grasps the situation and pulls you towards him, scanning for any wounds. “Fuck, (Y/N) are you okay?” He immediately asks, trying to look around to see where the bullet landed.

You suddenly feel a sharp pain behind you when he asks, causing your legs to instinctively weaken. “I,” You mumble, wincing as the pain continues to increase.

“Shit, shit.” Jungkook mutters, “Did it hit you? Where does it hurt?”

You shut your eyes close and lean against him, letting out a breathy sigh. “B-Behind,” You mumble, causing Jungkook to look at your back.

His eyes widen at the blood seeping out of your shirt from behind, quickly taking off his jacket to use it to apply pressure. “That motherfucker,” He mutters as he ties the jacket around your waist, jaw clenching when he sees that the person who shot you is long gone.

“Just stay with me, okay?” Jungkook says, seating you onto the floor as he leans your body towards him. “We’re going to get you some help.”

He immediately turns on the intercom, making sure the mic was on. “Jinyoung-hyung, is the infirmary clear?” He asks, silently hoping he’d receive a reply.

“Yeah, me and Yugyeom fought everyone off. It’s empty right now.” Jinyoung responds after a few seconds, Jungkook letting out a sigh in relief.

His eyes land on you, widening when he sees you begin to lose consciousness. “No, no, no,” He mumbles, bringing your eyes up to meet him. “Hey, you have to stay with me, okay? You can’t close your eyes.”

You hum in response, trying your best to keep them open as you continue enduring the pain. “Jungk..” You mumble, “It hurts,”

His heart drops at your expression, quickly sitting up to carry you in his arms. “Fuck, I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He says, cringing at the sight of you in pain.

He switches the intercom on swiftly before responding, “Hyung, we’re on our way there. i need you to prep some supplies, (Y/N) got shot.” He says, not waiting for a response before he immediately lifts you up.

“Okay, just hold on a bit longer, alright?” He says to you, running through the corridors. “Stay awake for me.”

You wince at the pain, leaning your head against his chest. “I can’t,” You whisper, “It hurts.”

Jungkook panics and rushes through the halls as quickly as he can, glancing down towards you. “No, you need to promise me you’ll keep your eyes open. Please, (Y/N).” He pleads, “I can’t lose you. Especially not like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut but you try your best to keep them open, letting out shallow breaths. “I’m trying but,” You reply, letting out a soft whimper from the pain.

“I know you are,” He replies, sighing in relief when he finally sees the door to the infirmary. “Okay, we’re almost here. Just hold on a little bit more, (Y/N).”

You hum in response, but your eyes slowly flutter shut as blackness finally takes over your vision completely.

“Guk, she’s waking up.”

You slowly blink as you open your eyes, wincing slightly at the light above you. Once your vision becomes a bit more adjusted to the brightness of your surroundings, you gradually look around and realize that you’re in an unfamiliar room.

You also begin to regain feeling in your limbs, gradually realizing that your hand seemed to be holding something. As your eyes traveled downwards, you noticed a hand on yours, making you blink for a few moments before your gaze traveled upwards.

Upon looking up, you’re met with a worried Jungkook, his head hovering over yours as he waits for you to fully wake up. “Thank god,” He mumbles, letting out a sigh. “Are you feeling okay?”

You use your other hand to rub your eyes, a small breath leaving your lips. “I feel alright.” You mumble, looking back at him. ““Where am I?” You ask softly with a hoarse voice.

He lets out a sigh and lets go of your hand to grab a cup of water from the bedside table. “You’re in my room. I had them move you here from the infirmary because I thought you’d be safer.” He replies softly, “Jinyoung-hyung’s here too, he just stepped out for a bit to grab some medicine.”

You hum and reach for the water, using your other hand to push yourself up. But all of a sudden, a sharp pain hits your back. The feeling has you falling back into bed almost immediately, a small whimper leaving your lips.

“Don’t get up yet, your wound hasn’t fully healed.” Jungkook says with slightly worried eyes, grabbing a straw from the cupboard. “Here, sip from this.” He says, tilting the straw towards your lips.

You gratefully bite the straw and begin sipping the water, finishing the cup’s contents within seconds. He chuckles softly at this, bringing the straw out of your mouth before using his finger to wipe a stray drop of water away from your lips.

The contact makes you blush slightly, using your hands to cover your face. “Thank you.” You simply say, rubbing your eyes before bringing your hands away.

Jungkook sighs, his face suddenly much more solemn as he keeps his eyes on you. “I think I should be thanking you.” He says, suddenly unable to speak. “(Y/N), you took a bullet for me. You protected me when I was the one who always said I’d do so for you.”

You purse your lips at this, deciding not to speak because you feel as though he isn’t done talking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as worried as I was when I saw you get shot. I mean, it’s one thing for me to be scared about you being at headquarters during the attack but for you to get hurt too? Because of me? God, I was losing my mind.” He says, letting out a chuckle in disbelief.

“And when you lost consciousness right before we got to the infirmary, god, I couldn’t feel anything—it was like I was just frozen all of a sudden.” He says, letting out a sigh. “The whole thing just made me realize that I owe you so much. Not only for how you saved my life, but also for how good you’ve been to me even when I don’t always end up doing the same.”

You frown at this, placing your hand on top of his. “Hey, don’t say that.” You mumble, “Jungkook, you’ve been nothing but a great husband—and I wouldn’t have wanted to have gotten married to anyone else.”

“I’m always going to be thankful to have met you and if given another opportunity, I would have still made that same decision again and again.” You say, the sincerity of your words being clear through your expression.

Jungkook simply sighs at this, looking at you guiltily. “I guess I just feel bad that I wasn’t able to protect you.” He says with a small frown, hand interlocking with yours. “I’m never letting anything like this happen to you ever again, I swear on if.”

You smile and shake your head, trying your best to reassure him by saying any other comforting words that come to mind. As you do, you carefully watch his expression, making sure to push away any hint of guilt present on his face.

Then, as your eyes travel towards the clock, you suddenly let out a soft gasp, recalling something. “Oh,” You mumble, looking towards him.

He raises his eyebrows at you, tilting his head to the side. “Do you need anything?” He asks, about to let go of your hand to go get whatever it was you needed.

But you simply frown, looking at the date on the clock a second time. “We missed our dinner reservation.” You say in a disappointed tone, a pout unconsciously forming on your face.

Jungkook looks at you for a few moments in amusement before chuckling and shaking his head. “(Y/N),” He says with a breathy laugh, “You’re adorable.” He mumbles, a small smile on his face. “I decided to postpone it to next week, or at least until you’re feeling much better.”

You sigh at this, looking downwards. “I really wanted to go though.” You mumble softly, making him find you even more adorable.

He chuckles and shakes his head, cooing at the small pout on your face. “We’ll go soon, okay? That I can promise.” He says, a smile on his face as he continues gazing at you.

And it was a promise he made sure to keep—weeks later when he knew it was safer for you to go outside again.

Deep inside, he knew that simply treating you to dinner would never be enough to repay you for what you did for him but, he honestly just wanted to see you be happy again—especially after everything that happened.