Bangtan's Crystal

Everyone in the kingdom witnessed it. Some people were frightened for the future, while others remained calm and welcomed monsters with open arms. You stayed neutral however, not sure how to react to such changes. What did the monsters even look like?

You wouldn’t have to wait any longer, monsters flooding in weeks later just to live in a human country. The market had risen, the population grew, and you were wedged in between it all.

You sat at your fabric stand, waiting for customers to come and purchase such fine materials. You weren’t sure of a monster's fashion sense. Would they even like the fabrics you had out?

Just across from you, something large and green set up his own shop. He laid out fabrics as well, the colors not too different from your own product.

He had short tusks protruding from the corners of his lip, the tips ending in smooth points. His lips were wide and thick, giving padding to the bone growing out of his mouth.

He looked back at you, giving a grunt as he continued to set everything up.

You gave a confused look, turning your head to ignore him. You hadn’t hoped to feel hostility from someone just for looking at them.

As the day went on, more and more people came through the market, and for some reason, his fabrics sold much better. You furrowed your brows, expressing your frustrations with a sigh.

You packed up your things to leave, giving the man a short look before turning your head forward again.

You sat at home to think, and though it had only been a day, you didn’t like how things were already starting out. Why didn’t people buy your fabrics? What was so great about his over yours?

You decided to rest on it, to maybe think of a better plan to get yours to sell.

You started the day with pride, putting signs up and laying out your best products in front. You were sure people couldn’t resist, people had always gone to you to purchase fabric, what was so different now?

You watched as more people and monsters flocked to the new guy, his laughs from conversations with customers ringing in your ears.

“What have you got in stock?” A woman with pointed ears and silver skin approached your stand, looking eager to buy something. By the looks of her clothes, you were sure she knew how to use the fabric wisely.

“I have a range of colors, many textures as well.” You laid out a few for her to choose from.

“What exactly are they made from?” She asked, touching lightly on the surface of your samples.

“Wool of course, sheared from my own sheep.” You proudly said, looking up as the lady’s expression grew to discomfort. She then backed away, brushing her hand on her skirt.

“Oh, I’m alright then. Thank you for allowing me to look.” She turned to the stand behind her, where she was in awe at the fabric sold there.

You couldn’t process what had just gone on. The wool fabric had always been everyone’s favorite. Who knew monsters were so picky.

And as the day grew on, customers were scarce in both yours and his stand, until there weren’t any at all.

A small clang on your table awoke you, a green face greeting you as you looked up.

He had put a few coins down on the wood in front of you, smiling once you noticed. “Here, I’m sure you could use it.” He spoke and turned to leave.

“Hey!” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned back at you with a confused look. What had caused you to call out like that.

“What’s so great about your fabrics? What do you have that I don’t, huh?” You confronted, brows furrowed so tight they felt like they would pop. He laughed for a second, looking around to make sure you were really speaking to him.

“I don’t understand?” He stood his ground, crossing his arms as he towered over you.

“Yes you do. I’ve been watching all of my customers go from me and straight to you!” You confessed, teeth bared like an angered dog.

“It’s your fabric, wool isn't it?”

“What’s wrong with wool?” You relaxed slightly, a bit offended at his suggestion.

“Monsters have a more efficient and cleaner way of making fabrics, a special kind made from magic.” He pulled out a sample from his satchel, the fabric appearing soft and the fibers smooth.

You felt it between your fingertips, amazed at the quality. You looked up at him, his lips curled in a smile.

You dropped your hand and looked away, brows now relaxing. You felt guilt for assuming foul play. He was just like you selling what he had known what to make. His fabric was indeed better than yours.

“You could help me with selling my fabric if you’d like.” He suggested, your eyes widening at his offer.

“It’s hard managing the stand on my own, you could even get half pay!” He grinned wide. Half pay? You didn’t even make the fabric.

“Alright.” You shook his hand sealing the agreement.

“What should I call you?” You asked, not sure if he wanted to go by formalities or something more casual.

“Ellis, just that will be fine.” He said his name. It definitely had a nice ring to it.

You and him planned it to be scheduled like it had been before. You two would come early in the morning and set up shop, selling fabrics just as usual.

“You’ll take no less than three for these, and if people give you trouble just call for me.” He ran you through how much he sold them for.

While he worked on the other side of the stand, you worked yours, feeling the fabric between your fingers after each customer.

“How much for these?” A new customer asked, their brows raising once you told them the lowest price you’d go.

“But I don’t have that many.” They argued, receiving a scowl from you.

Just as you were about to speak, Ellis was right behind you. “I assure you that it isn’t much, we even have cheaper options here.” He bent over you, not realizing how awkwardly close he was.

The customer followed his direction, looking at the other fabrics on Ellis’ side of the stand.

You breathed, looking at him as you tried figuring out what to say. This monster kept surprising you, how he charmed each customer and silenced even the rude ones without having to shout.

One the day was over, he handed you half the profit, an amount much more than the whole time you’d been selling fabrics.

“Thank you.” You were amazed, grasping the bag of money to your chest.

“Don’t mention it, I’m glad to have some help with the stand.” And after a short conversation, he was gone, money ringing in his pocket as he strided away.

You were finally content with your situation, finally on the side where you welcomed the monsters. You were glad to meet such a nice person, his smiling face bright in your mind.

You had even started to see him as a friend.

As the days went on, the money you made kept increasing. The people of your kingdom really seemed to like his fabrics, new faces coming around from every town.

And until today, you hadn’t thought how some people still viewed monsters as evil.

“Disgusting.” A man walked by and whispered.

You looked at Ellis to see if he heard, hoping he didn’t.

He hadn’t, you were sure of it as his head was turned to his fabrics, and his attention buried deep in conversation with another monster.

You sighed, holding your arms tight in discomfort.

Another person walked by, something red resting in her palm. You hadn’t seen what it was from where she was standing. Only once she threw it did you realize what was going on.

Tomatoes from all directions were thrown, splattering the juices onto the precious fabrics and Ellis’ green skin.

“Stop!” You protested, attempting to shelter both the fabrics and your friend as the fruits kept coming.

Only when the guards came by did things start to calm down.

Monsters from all over the market had reported humans ruining things with thrown tomatoes. “They don’t belong in our town!” A human man shouted.

This caused an uproar, shouting and throwing commenced once again, scaring both you and Ellis into fleeing.

Since your home was closest, you both went there. It was safe as soon as you barricaded the door.

You peeked through the window, the guards trying their best to cool down the situation. It was a sad sight to see, the market ruined with fighting and splattered fruit.

You were sure the king had to do something about this. If this were to continue, the whole kingdom could go on lockdown, or worse, the wall could be built back up again.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized to Ellis for the humans hostility towards him.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault after all.” He stared at his ruined shirt, the red stains appearing to be impossible to get out.

“Things are tense for everyone, no one can change just because walls are broken down.” He reasoned, pulling off his soiled shirt.

You focused on his words, saddened by the truth. You had quickly gotten so used to him, you nearly forgot how you started out.

“But they could at least try.” You spoke, pursing your lips as you realized his sudden shirtlessness.

“That’s true, but you can’t expect everyone to change, I even know some monsters who are unsure of humans. Just give it a couple years.”

He laughed, watching you stare at his green chest, swirls of black hair growing thick there.

“Do you have a bathtub?” He asked. You nodded, guiding him to where it was.

It was much smaller than he had expected, a perfect size for you, but obviously not going to hold much of him.

He hesitated for a second, looking around for a solution to his predicament.

He pulled out a stick of sorts from his satchel, holding it tightly and whispering to it. His words illuminated it, the bathtub surrounded in a flash of light.

It grew nearly twice its size, a bath now a perfect fit for him.

“I’m sure you’d like to wash yourself off as well, it’s big enough for two now.” He placed the stick back in his bag.

You had known what he had suggested, but you didn’t believe what you had heard. A bath to share? You hadn’t ever done that, let alone with a man, or a monster.

You looked away shyly, not sure why this was such a big deal to you. A few people had seen you nude, as you’d seen others. Perhaps you didn’t know if your beauty was up to the standards of a monster.

“Alright, but you have to turn away as I get in.” You mumbled, watching him comply with your instructions.

You stripped, your body feeling a rush as it met with steaming water. It felt nice, refreshing even to get in such a large tub.

You heard him undress as well, averting your eyes as he climbed in. “This is nice.” He sighed, his movement rocking the water.

Your back faced him, the only part of him that you could see were his knees that stood just beside your shoulders.

“Would you like me to wash your hair?” He asked, noticing your ears turning a reddish color.

You nodded, feeling as his thick fingers brushed through your hair. It was a nice experience, getting pampered like this.

He was gentle with his movements, your scalp much smaller than any he’d ever touched.

He enjoyed the closeness just as much as you did, watching as you became more relaxed around him.

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort rush over you as he continued. Only when he leaned your head back to rinse the soap out did you open them.

You stared at the roof, feeling the warm water flow over each strand of hair.

Once he was done, you could wash your body.

You rubbed in the suds, wondering what Ellis had been doing now that he hadn’t been washing your hair.

You ignored those thoughts, rinsing once you were done.

Just as you’d always done, you checked your back for any soap left there.

Only then did you realize what else you could see from the corner of your eye.

You stood up in shock, quickly noticing what you had just done. You stood fully upright, looking into his eyes as his mouth gaped open in surprise at seeing your fully nude body.

You hopped out of the bath, covering yourself quickly with a nearby towel.

You knew you’d embarrass yourself somehow. You must have known your body was strange to a monster. And one thing you didn’t know is how something could be so big, and so green.

“Sorry.” He coughed, reaching for his towel. Once he stood out, another thing was apparent.

Since he wasn’t at his home, he had no spare clothes, and since he had no more of his magic sticks on hand, he was out of luck.

He had to wash his clothes or stay in a towel the remainder of his time there.

“I could wash them for you.” You offered, now clothed in something more casual.

You hadn’t been able to grab your wash bin from outside, but you were sure the tub could work great.

If only the tub wasn’t so tall, and your stool wasn’t also outside.

“Could you be my stool?” You asked. As silly as the question was, it was the only real option.

He sat in front of the tub, watching you fill it up with new and clean water.

As soon as you sat in his lap and began to wash his clothes, all he could think of was what had happened moments before.

Your body was that of something he’d never seen before. He’d never been so attracted to someone, your every curve analyzed in his mind.

He tried to snap back to reality, his thoughts sure to cause something he didn’t want to happen.

You tried just as hard to clear your mind, your thoughts being scrubbed just as hard as you did to Ellis’ clothes.

You didn’t want to think about every part of his green body, yet that’s all you could think about, that and the shifting underneath you.

“Just a minute, I have one more stain to get out.” You laughed, placing a hand on one of his knees.

You began wringing out the clothing, spreading them across the tub as a way to dry them out.

“Now all we have to do is wait.” You spoke as you stood up.

You turned to face him, his cheeks darkening and his posture worsening as he hung his head low in order to hide something. His hands didn’t do too well of a job however.

You gasped as soon as you realized. How? What was going on through his mind for that to happen.

He groaned, feeling your eyes piercing through him as you stared. “Just ignore it, it’ll go away.” He said, trying to smile to ease your worrying.

“I thought you were disgusted at the sight of me.” You tried to get him to open up. You wanted to hear him say his real thoughts, your cheeks warm.

“Quite the opposite really.” He tried to keep it simple, to stop the throbbing in what he was trying so hard to suppress.

You bent down to him, his eyes begging for your touch. “You don’t have to.” He said in a whimper.

You kissed his cheek, looking up into his eyes as you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“But do you want me to?” You asked, teasing him a small bit.

He opened up his legs, pleading with you to go further. “Please.” He begged you.

You lifted the towel off his hardened length, its striking green color quite beautiful to you.

You began to stroke him, receiving a long sign from the monster above you. He laid his head onto your shoulder, grunting as you moved your hand further down.

You were sure something so big would tear you open. Though the heat between your legs opposed you, the logistics of this simply wouldn’t work out that way.

A hand made its way to your thighs, wanting to go between them. “I- I want to make you feel good too.” He stuttered. You smiled at this, allowing him entry with a slow opening to your legs and a removal of your bottoms.

As you continued to pick up the pace, his shaking fingers made their way to you. He traced every fold, looking for the part he was sure you’d have.

While you felt him twitching against you, you could sense the pressure of his fingers landing on your sensitive spot. He rubbed a finger against it, gaining a reaction from you that made him smile.

Lewd sounds escaped both of you, Ellis’ climax coming as you could feel him shutter against you. He breathed so heavy it felt like wind, the heat hitting your back as he stayed slumped over you.

He moaned one last time, an eruption of white coated everything in close proximity, the sight definitely a bit jarring as you’d never seen so much before.

All of that was soon pulled from your mind as his fingers continued to rub. He had a mission to give you just as much pleasure from this, his pace quickening.

You held onto him, shaking as you finally hit your climax as well. You both looked at each other, a few laughs erupting from his chest.

“So much for that bath.” You said, standing up from the mess that now covered the floor.

His eyelids fluttered for a moment, his eyes staring at the erection that stood just as tall as it had before.

He sighed, looking away as if it were to be ashamed of.

You bit your lip as you thought of another way to help him. There was obviously no real way for him to go inside, but you had gotten slick enough, just rubbing against you could get close to the real thing.

You took off the rest of your clothes, leading him to your bedroom.

You laid on your back, giving him a full view of your body. “Are you sure?” He asked to make sure, the sight of your body making him melt.

“Of course, I’m ready for it.” You assured him, without a doubt in your mind.

You watched him walk over to you, holding your legs at his sides. He pulled you closer, making one slide through your thighs and against your opening. His length reached your ribs, it’s intimidating size setting in now. If that was inside you, you’d surely break.

He made the motion over again, brushing against you each time, the feeling making you arch your back.

Once he felt comfortable with his technique, he eased through your thighs over again, gasping at how good it felt.

You held onto the sheets as you slid back and forth, the feeling of his rocking back and forth so powerful.

You only got more slick with this motion, his body hitting against it and making a mess.

You watched as he leaned down, kissing you with the lips between his tusks. It was an odd kiss, the sight of his tusks so close to your eyes made you shut them tight.

He gripped you tighter, receiving a moan as he brushed past your sensitive spots.

His pace quickened and no matter how tight you held onto the bed it couldn’t help with how much you were sliding.

You felt his breathing on you again, his eyes closed as he drowned in pleasure.

You smiled at this, holding onto his arm as he made a few final thrusts into your thighs.

You didn’t think he’d have much left from last time, but the amount still was just as shocking as last time. White fluid coated your whole stomach.

His excitement had finally ceased, his exhausted body lying peacefully next to you in bed. “I’ll clean myself up and get your clothes, they’re surely ready by now.”

This is the first night he’s had free in weeks. His schedule with tour prep, promo for their new single, commercial filming, recording, writing, was relentless. You’d still spend the night at his place, often falling asleep alone and waking up to the sight of him rolling out of bed and dragging himself to the office.

His arms feel so familiar, he smells so good. You lean into him a bit but he stiffens. Why does it feel a little awkward?

“Is this okay? No cameras in this room?” You’re glancing around. Maybe that’s it. It had been so long since the two of you had been out ‘in public’ like this, you’d forgotten about all the checks and security involved.

“Yeah, we’re okay here,” he says quickly. His hand moves to your face. “You look beautiful, my love.” And he kisses you again. You can’t help but get a little flustered. To melt into him a bit, some of the discomfort replaced by those butterflies.

The room is small and dimly lit, a red velvet banquette runs along the side of the room. A long table with just two place settings right across from each other.

You go to sit on the bench and Namjoon slides in right next to you, pressing up against your side.

You smile at him wanting to sit so close, it’s not his usual MO, so when he’s a little needy like this, it’s cute. You run your hand over his cheek. “You look tired, my love. How’s it going?”

“Fine. I guess?”

“All that stuff with the final track resolved?”

There had been some issue with a song for their new album, Namjoon and his producer stressing over it. You’d heard the same part coming out of his studio over and over. And then Namjoon had accidentally deleted part of the track.

“Yes.” He chuckles and looks at his hands. “The IT guy saved my ass. I think Producer _______ took pity on me and let me keep that one line.”

His knees are angled towards you now. He takes your right hand, his thumb spinning the azalea pink baek-il ring on your finger.

“Jagi, I know—this hasn’t been great. I—I don’t know how to make this better. One night out in three weeks isn’t ideal.”

“Namjoon, it’s fine. I don’t—” That constant need to reassure surfaces again.

“It’s not fine for me. This is usually when things start to go wrong. When I can’t—” He stops and presses his lips together. “Yoongi and his girlfriend broke up.”

You gasp. “Oh shit! Is she okay? What happened? They seemed—” You wave your hands around “—endgame.”

“I thought so too. It was the work stuff, I think. Yoongi was not—And I don’t want to guess…” His voice drifts off and he’s back staring at your hands, gliding his fingertips up and down them, pausing at your ring again.

“When it’s like this. At work. Every time I feel like, adrift in that stress. I’m sure I’ll never find my way back to shore. This will be the thing that pulls me under.”

You nod and start to run your fingers along his palm. The news about Yoongi and _______ makes your heart feel heavy. You need to text her. This might also explain why he’s a little off.

“And it never does. And I know that. But it didn’t—I didn’t feel too far out this round? I mean, I know it’s a lot, all this work. But I didn’t feel so alone, so lost.”

You lean forward and kiss his cheek and then lean back against the banquette. His lips quirk up a bit, but otherwise he doesn’t react.

“You make it that way, jagiya. I need you to know that. And it’s why I wanted to have one night off to do something else. We can’t build our life on texting. And sometimes squeezing in sex while we wait for the coffee to brew.” A smirk flashes over his lip at this.

“Heh. You said ‘squeezing in’.” You look at him and he barks out a laugh that fights against the frown on his face.

“Namjoon, can’t we though? It’s like writing my thesis. I had a plan and just kind of put my head down, just kept going, and just figured it will end eventually, and we’ll get where we want to go.”

You don’t clarify where ‘that’ is. You’re not even sure you know.

He’s silent for a beat. He’s back looking at his hands.

“Yeah, eventually.”

“Joon. Namjoon.” His eyes flick up towards yours. “We’re not there. Not even close.”

He nods and smiles a bit, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Plus there is some good side to this. I’ve had some time these last few weeks to take on some new private clients. Park Jung-Hoon, the curator, has been helping me out.”

There’s his eyebrow again. You ignore it. Jung-Hoon is a great colleague and has a boyfriend, too. But you don’t want to feed into however Namjoon is feeling right now.

“Really? See anything good?”

“An Yves Klein in Hannam-dong.”

“Damn. Wait? Who in Hannam has a Yves Klein?”

“Can’t tell you, baby, NDA and all.” You wink and he grins, his whole face relaxing a bit.

“Oh! Also!” You sit upright. You’d nearly forgotten your other good news. “Guess what?”

He’s laughing, the awkwardness around you has evaporated, “What, jagi?”

“My paper, the one on the Frankenthaler? They asked me to present at the annual conference.”

Now Namjoon sits up, eyes wide open. “The one in Zurich? Where you met Audrey?”

“Yes! I can’t believe you remember that. I can’t believe it. I didn’t think then I’d be asked—”

“Baby, I love that you’re modest, but yes you fucking did. Don’t sell yourself short. They haven’t done you a favor. You deserve it.”

Your face heats and you look away, a little embarrassed. “Yeah I did.”

He kisses you on the mouth. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud. But not surprised.” He gives you a little nudge and then frowns a bit.

“When is it?”

“Sometime early next year? I think?”

“How will you get there?”

“Where?” You sip your water. “To Switzerland? I think the conference or the museum will fly me.”

“Direct?”

“From Seoul? I don’t think that’s a thing. I’ll probably connect in Frankfurt? Delhi?”

“Let me fly you?”

“To the moon and let me play among the stars?” You giggle at your quip, but he’s frowning.

“In the band’s plane. So you can sleep and go direct.”

“Namjoon, that’s too much. I’ll be fine on a regular old plane.”

“Jagi—” he huffs and sits up. “You give me so much. Just like being there, listening, you—It’s something I can give to you.”

“You give me a lot, Joonie. That’s too mu—”

“That paper? I’ve read it. Well, I tried to. It has spectrometry analysis in it, organic chemistry equations? I don’t even know what the fuck to call them. I like to look at art and read books on it, but you are literally looking inside them. You’re an actual painting doctor. I’m an idol with a big bank account—”

“Namjoon. That’s not all you—”

“Let me—”

You press your finger to his lips and he stops talking, rolling his eyes up affectionately. You move your hand away and he playfully nips at it. The butterflies are back, but now they’re horny. And kind of hungry.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He kisses your finger and chuckles when he hears your stomach grumble a bit. Then he reaches over and taps on the small touch screen on the table. A waiter walks in with two cocktails and some banchan plates.

“I was so excited about eating here, I ordered what I thought you’d like.”

“Oh yeah? You think you know what I like?”

“Oh, I am sure I know what you like.” Namjoon moves to kiss you and you lean back, lightly pressing a hand to his chest. You lift the drink to your mouth.

You take a sip and then slowly lick your lips.

It is exactly what you like.

“It’s okay, I guess, if you like that kind of thing.” You quirk an eyebrow, Namjoon style, and he smirks at you.

There’s been no time for this lately. To tease, to flirt, to drag out the pleasure of being together. You have the whole night and you’re already wet at just the first hint of having enough.

“Hmmm, let me taste a little too?”

You nod a slight consent as he moves forward. Tip of his tongue grazes your lips, you part them slightly, but he doesn’t go any further.

“Tastes perfect to me.”

Hand on your chin, he tilts your lips to his.

Looking up slightly, in this low light, his eyes look so dark, his expression is so intense, to someone who doesn’t know him, it could be anger. But you know it’s focus. You’ve seen it when he’s working, when he’s performing, and you shudder a bit knowing what it means when it’s turned on you.

His mouth captures yours, there is no other word for it. Whatever you’d been feeling when you got here, it’s all been replaced with him. Loving him.

You’re beholden to the place where your lips meet. Enraptured by all the sensation around you, to him. The way his calloused hands feel on your bare skin. The smell of his cologne. The taste of soju on his lips. The slight whimper when you touch his face.

Your tongues glide against each other, his hand moves higher up on your leg, gripping just hard enough that he’s probably leaving a mark. And your body starts to undulate towards him, a wave lapping at the shore.

His hand is so high now that your entire leg is exposed. His fingers on your hips, stroking and pressing, slipping under your panties.

Your fingers move to his hair. It’s so soft and slightly damp, he must have showered after rehearsal.

“Joonie, baby, we’re in public. They’ll bring our food soon?” It’s a weak protest. Right now you don’t actually even care. And you definitely don’t pull back, your lips press against his cheek, trace the valley of his dimple, round the bend and down to the small mole on the left side of his neck. He doesn't speak, but responds by moving his hand between your legs, pulling slowly on your thigh to open them up.

You sigh into his mouth. So pliant right now, you’d let him do almost anything.

Namjooon’s phone starts buzzing. You’re pressed so close together you can feel it against your leg. It stops and then keeps going again. And again.

On the third round of ringing, he keeps kissing you, but moves enough to pull his phone out, swiping at it to set it to silent.

And the door opens. The two of you move back, his lips pulling away from your neck with a ‘pop’. It pinches a bit. His phone flies out of his hand and lands on the floor with a crack.

It’s his manager.

Your fingers brush the spot on your neck. It will likely bruise.

“We have a problem.”

Namjoon’s head snaps around at that. His face morphs, his jaw locks. But the rest of his body stays on yours, his hand moving to a more appropriate part of your thigh. Now instead of working to open you up, they’re shielding you.

“There are photographers outside. A saesang posted to Twitter that you were out to dinner in a private room with the same woman you had dinner with back in April.”

“How do they know that?” You interject, panic starting to creep up your body. Your hands feel numb.

“Someone posted pictures of the two of you on the street in Bongcheon–dong. It was removed by the company. It wasn’t a problem. But apparently you’re carrying the same bag.” He gestures to your work backpack, which isn’t fancy or all that recognizable. But it has a big pin with your well-known alma mater on it.

You feel the blood drain from your face and you sway a bit, grabbing on to Namjoon’s arm. One of your first dates. When you went out for noodles.

The manager's face is serious, but he also looks a little upset. He is a quiet but constant presence in Namjoon’s life, and has always been kind and accommodating to you.

“What happens now?” Namjoon’s voice is low and angry. In profile he looks like a lion. His hand tightens on your leg, but it feels a little sweaty. He is nervous too.

“Namjoon-ssi, you will leave by the back door. ______-ssi, switch your things to this bag…” He hands you a nondescript, black tote bag. “You will leave out the side entrance in one hour and take the train home as if you were just meeting a friend for a drink.”

He hands you the tote bag and you deadpan, “What’s this? New Louis Vuitton for resort season?”

Namjoon ignores your attempt at gallows humor. “Someone has to stay with her.”

“Not possible. In case someone is recognized as staff.”

Something knocks against your leg. You glance down and it’s your hands shaking.

“That’s not acceptable. I won’t leave her here.”

“You can’t be seen together tonight. They don’t seem to know _______’s face or name or have another photo. But it’s too risky. Chul hyung can follow her home, he used to be a Flying Tiger and can keep her safe.”

Park Chul is part of Namjoon’s security team. If you hadn’t met him, you’d definitely want to stay out of his way

“Namjoon. You should go.” You’re surprised at how level and even your voice sounds right now. Like someone else is moving your lips and making the words come out. You take his hand and start to lift it off of your leg.

“What? Jagiya, no. I can’t—” he protests.

You’re more insistent. Plastering a smile on your face, you run your thumb over his hand.

“I’ve got it, it’s fine. Chul oppa will look out for me. We’ll do this and it will be okay.” You look up at the manager and he nods.

You press a kiss to his cheek and squeeze his hand as you extricate yourself from his hold.

“It will be fine. I’ll be okay. This is the right thing to do.”

You can see his jaw tick as he moves away. You’ve never seen his face so rigid. Like he might snap in two. But his eyes. They’re red, tears at the corners.

“Go. Go before they think to cover the back door too.”

You let go of his hand. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly. “I love you. This will be fine.”

“I love you, too. I know.” You only really mean one of those things.

He stands and leaves. His manager nods at you, a sad look on his face.

——

You walk in your front door on autopilot, slipping off your shoes and dropping your new tote bag. You don’t even care how hard your laptop just hit the floor. You walk and sit down on the couch, unsure of what to do next.

Your phone is ringing.

“Jagi, are you okay? Are you home?” Namjoon sounds out of breath, like he’s been running.

“Ummm, yes. I’m home.” You feel numb.

“There is a security car outside of your place. I’ve asked them to stay for the next few days. They’ll move with you when you have to go to work. Chul hyung will follow you at SNU tomorrow.”

“What’s happening, Namjoon? Is this bad? Will you be okay?” You don’t even try to hide how upset you are. Your chest feels tight, tears slip off your cheeks and onto your coat.

“_______. I am fine.” He sounds so matter of fact, using his leader voice. You can’t even enjoy it right now. You need answers. The panic from the restaurant is bubbling up, foaming inside of you.

“What. Is. Happening.” You’re pushing the words out of your mouth.

“It all seems to be contained. There were no issues with the restaurant. The security team swept the room for bugs and cameras before you arrived. They took all the security camera footage.”

You let out a little breath, “Okay. That’s good.”

“Someone did follow me home though. We have their license plate. The company will take care of it.”

“That is so scary.” A pinpoint of pain in your heart has started to spread, the panic you’ve been pushing down for the last few hours is seeping out.

“They want us to—” He stops. “They told me we have to be apart. For a bit.”

“What’s a bit? You go on tour at the end of the month.” The words burst out and tears follow, you don’t even try to hold back any more.

“Listen, jagiya. Maybe a few days? A week max? Sooner if they can find the sasaeng.”

“A week! We already—”

“This is for your safety. It— I don’t—-” Another pause. His voice thick. “I think you’re the only other person in the world who knows how hard this is. How badly I want to be with you. How all I want is—”

You start to sob. Big, heaving waves run through your body. The phone drops to your lap. This is just too much.

Face in your hands, you start to take deep breaths, willing yourself to calm down. You can hear Namjon calling you through the phone. When you can kind of speak without crying, you choke out, “What—what now?”

“I called Audrey. She’s on her way to your place.”

“Okay.” Your face is twisted trying to keep the tears in.

“Sweetheart. _______. I love you. You’re home and safe. I’m home and safe. That’s what matters now.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I love you too.”

“Joonie.”

“Yes, love?”

“Can you stay on the phone til Audrey gets here?”

“Of course, sweetheart, of course.”

Part 16.5: Halmoni’s House

——

Don’t fall in love with your fuck buddy. Simple, right? So why is Namjoon on his knees, the fluffy carpet burning shapes into his kneecaps as he devours your pussy and thinks about how much he wants you in every way imaginable? Why is he thinking about how much he’s missed you? Because he's an idiot who can't follow the basic rules. Oh, and because he’s been away for work for almost two months, far too long without you.

“Fuck, I forget how good you are with that mouth of yours,” you hum at him, nails grazing against his scalp before they pull on his hair, your words doing wonders for his ego.

Namjoon can't let you forget him, so he licks his way down to your hole, which is dripping wet thanks to a mixture of your juices and his saliva. He's made a mess in the last half hour of eating you out like a man starved. His nose grazes against your clit while his tongue enters you, and it makes you arch your back and groan his name.

“Taste so fucking good, pretty,” he tells you on his way back to your swollen clit. “Never want to stop.”

“You'll have to, Joon,” you whine at him, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him away from your slit. His face droops with disappointment, but you quickly make it all better. “I really want to feel you.”

“You do, huh?” Namjoon gets up, his knees sore.

“I've missed you and your tongue and your cock so much,” you admit easily, peering deep into his eyes. Lust oozes from every smooth syllable that leaves your flawless mouth. God, he'll fill it up later while you stare up at him with teary eyes, and you'll thank him after swallowing.

“Now you have me, pretty. I’m all yours,” Namjoon reassures you, his voice dripping with affection. Fuck it, you probably already know he's crazy about you. He's texted you every day while away, asking if you're taking good care of his plants, but he just used them as an excuse to check on you. “Want me to give it to you?”

One nod from you is all it takes for him to slide in fully while he stands next to the bed between your spread legs. The second he bottoms out, Namjoon grunts and kicks his head back, wondering if you would hate him for blowing his load right away. It's been months of missing you, and he's so overwhelmed with the way you look, taste, and feel.

“Feels good?” you ask teasingly, even though he can hear the straining in your voice because you’re just as affected as he is by your bodies finally connecting. “Tight enough?”

“Like I’ve never been inside you before,” he hums, pulling out nearly all the way only to slide back in. Namjoon does it at least a dozen times, letting your plush walls adjust to him before fucking you the way he typically does—sharp and hard until you fall apart for him, then slow until he comes. “I forget how good you feel.”

“You'll have to have me more often then,” you add with a smirk and prop yourself up on your elbows. “Get used to me.”

Something inside him snaps when you say that so sweetly while looking at him like you want to eat him, eyes wandering over his body. That's when he starts fucking you faster, adjusting his hips to hit that spot just so he can bask in the way your eyes roll back. “Shit, right there!”

You moan and hiss but don't look away for a second, not even when Namjoon spits on your clit and starts rubbing it hard. Your face distorts with pleasure, but you seem determined to stare at him through the next orgasm, which he causes not long after—the combination of his thick cockhead rubbing against your g-spot and his fingers against your clit never fails.

“You're so good at this, Joonie,” you pant, walls fluttering around him. He moves his hand away from your crotch and tugs at your nipple gently, relishing the way you tighten around him. God, he wants to paint your tits with cum. “Give it to me so good every time...”

“Yeah? You take it so well,” he teases, imitating you once more because he enjoys the way you laugh at his antics. “You deserve it. So good and pretty for me. Want to touch and kiss all over.”

You start moaning so loudly he becomes dizzy from the surge of blood to his cock. Namjoon gets on top of you, damaged knees on the mattress, grabbing and lifting your ass so he can fuck into you. His mouth suckles on your neck, moaning into it, your pussy bringing him closer to his orgasm.

“Just like that, give it to me, Joon,” you encourage him, letting out groans with every thrust.

Namjoon can't take it any longer, his balls crying for release as your nails dig into his back and heels press into his ass. “Pretty, I'm—fuck—coming!”

All you have to say is “do it, baby” and he comes. Namjoon fills you up while making obscene noises against your neck, his forehead lying in the crook of it. “Damn, this feels perfect... Can’t get enough of you. I'm never pulling out.”

“Don't. I think it might fall off eventually, but you'll have a good time until then,” you joke. Both of you laugh, which causes his cock to slide out. “See? It's scared too.”

Namjoon thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever seen as he watches you giggle, face sticky from all the sweat, strands of baby hairs stuck to it. “You’re perfect, you know. I mean it.”

“Joon... You're full of compliments today,” you coo, knuckles gently caressing the side of his face that’s not pressed against your skin. “Want me to fall for you?”

He returns the affection, enjoying how you lean into his touch and hum, “A guy can hope, right?”

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His friends claimed things became a lot simpler once you got to know the other person intimately, but Namjoon wasn't convinced. Didn’t he already know you intimately? 

That night at Jungkook’s, he got to finger you to completion, feel you come around his fingers, had your pretty mouth around his cock, had you swallow his cum. The only thing more intimate than that would be getting to fuck you, and yet, Namjoon didn’t feel any more relaxed.

Well, that was kind of a lie. He said hi to you with ease now, the tips of his ears turning red if you chose to hug him in public, his cock hardening a bit if you kissed him when you weren’t around other people. Those things came to him a bit easier, required little mental energy, and didn’t make him feel as embarrassed as he’d usually be. 

Instead of scrambling for words and stuttering, Namjoon could talk back now and even look into your eyes when talking to you without feeling the need to look away instantly. Maybe it was not about the fact that you were intimate with each other now, but that Namjoon was a bit more convinced in your feelings for him. His were already known to him, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with you.

However, when you two were alone and things got even a bit intimate, his mind went blank. It was funny because his mind was the exact opposite when he thought about you all alone in his bedroom. It was kind of pathetic, even. 

Usually, when he jerked off, Namjoon kept quiet, save for a groan or two that would escape his mouth during ejaculation. Ever since this thing with you started, he’d wrap his fist around the tip and get himself off while muttering nasty things. They were dirty, and so was his mind. He’d squirt a lot of lube on his erection and start tugging at it, telling you to take it all, telling you you’re doing a good job, telling you to use his cock to get off… You weren’t there, of course, but his mind went wild and his mouth followed suit.

Namjoon decided to go on Thursday again—so unlike him—just because he wanted to see you, talk to you, spend time with you. It seemed like you two were starting to meet up at parties only, which was funny considering Namjoon seldom went out before you two partnered up for the project. 

This time, Namjoon decided to stay sober, as suggested by his friends.

“If you want to take things further and feel more comfortable, don’t get wasted,” Jungkook said, patting his back. 

“I agree with the kid,” Yoongi added his two cents. “Getting drunk might make things easier for you, but do you really want to be wasted every time you two are alone? You’re never going to relax that way.”

They were both right, so Namjoon stuck to water all night, even when the night took a bad turn and he really wanted either to drink or get the hell out of there.

First, he felt awkward and found it hard to even walk up to you to say hi. The reason behind it was the fact that you were there not just with Olivia, but with a bunch of friends he didn’t know. Still, Namjoon walked all over his pride and ignored the possible embarrassment just to greet you. Of course, you greeted happily and kissed him on the lips. When you did, Namjoon smelled alcohol on you and realized you were wasted tonight. 

For some reason, his mind went blank even then, body going stiff as you kissed him, as if he suddenly became aware of so many pairs of eyes piercing through him, wondering who this random guy was, and why you’d kiss a loser like him. Truth be told, your friends probably weren’t thinking that, but his mind was telling him something else. So, Namjoon couldn’t relax even though you seemed to be very happy to see him, judging by how enthusiastic your kiss was.

Somehow, you didn’t seem to mind his awkwardness yet again, even though his reaction made him seem completely uninterested, which Namjoon wasn’t. Instead of getting angry, you giggled and leaned in, “You look so cute when you’re shy, Joonie.”

Joonie. Not many people used this nickname with him, but no one sounded as sweet as you did when you said it, the word rolling off your tongue effortlessly, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. What did he do to deserve someone to look at him like that, especially someone as perfect as you? 

Namjoon’s mind went blank again as he once again became aware of all the eyes on the two of you as if you two were the biggest circus attraction. Did you not see it? Or did you just not give a damn about what other people thought?

“I, uhm… Thank you,” was the best Namjoon could come up with, which is something he kept beating himself over even when he excused himself and left. 

He was aware of how bad that was going to look—him walking over, you kissing him, and him just saying he has to go and leaving you behind as if he didn’t come here just to see you, spend time with you. It was his stupid nerves and soberness.

Namjoon joined his friend group with slumped shoulders, feeling like the biggest failure out there. Everyone told him to relax, offering their opinion.

“She kissed you and you looked like you had a stick up your ass,” Hoseok lowered his voice. “Just relax, man, she likes you.”

You may have liked Namjoon, but that didn’t stop him from being weird the rest of the night and avoiding you. The more you drank, the worse he felt about losing the courage to approach you. You looked really happy with your friends, dancing around like no one was watching, sneaking glances his way just for Namjoon to get all stiff again and start talking to someone, anyone just to avoid intense eye contact.

Was it really all alcohol? Was he not able to strike up a conversation with you, kiss you, touch you without being drunk? That wasn’t a good sign, and Namjoon hated to think about that, so he refused to. 

Instead, he focused on his friends, and only went to look for you once they all somehow got lost—some of them talking to people, others dancing, some disappearing with a potential partner, leaving Namjoon to look for his. 

You were no longer his literature partner, the semester was long over, yet you seemed to be his real-life partner. Were you? Namjoon didn’t dare call you his girlfriend. You’ve never discussed it, never made things official, and you never told him you wanted to be in a relationship with him. Who’d want to be official with a guy who can barely kiss you in public, running away after you make the first move, embarrassing you in front of your friends like that?

Namjoon was aware he had many flaws. Still, seeing you talking to Jimin hurt. It was his fault for going around the place looking for you once his friends got lost, he knew. He should have texted or just left you alone. Instead, he went looking for you and found you in the lobby, lowering your voice while you spoke to Jimin, the guy who got to sleep with you.

The second that thought ran through Namjoon’s head, he felt terrible for even thinking it. Who you slept with was none of his business, and he had no right to judge you based on that. Jimin wasn’t his favorite person, but you two had already discussed the whole thing, and Namjoon knew the guy lied to you. But, none of that made him feel better right then when he watched you two whisper at each other like you shared a secret Namjoon would never be in on. The thought stung. 

After all, if Jimin was that bad and used you and took you for granted, why were you still talking to him at a party when you were both pretty wasted? Was it because the guy you were seeing wasn’t drunk, which made him even more boring? After all, Namjoon knew Jimin was definitely the type of guy who could make a move without being drunk, a guy who knew what he was doing, especially if you were willing to be a simple hook up just to get to have him.

Then, Jimin raised his voice, but you still kept yours down, said something to him, and walked away, almost crashing into Namjoon as you made your way back to the living room. “Oh, there you are,” you greeted him with a fake smile, sighing right after. “I’m gonna go home. Not feeling that good.”

“Everything okay?” Namjoon couldn’t get anything else out, but he wanted to check if you were feeling good. 

If he asked more, it would seem like he was prying, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, even though he really wanted to know what was going on with you and Jimin again. Did you get tired of waiting for Namjoon to show you a good time?

“Not really. Just a bad day,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked around as if you were avoiding his gaze, which was something that didn’t happen often. Usually, Namjoon was the one who looked away. “I should just go home and rest.”

Namjoon finally got the courage to speak up when he realized you might actually leave without speaking to him at all, which was… defeating, to say the least. “Can I, uh, walk you there?” 

It was a stupid suggestion seeing as you were more than thirty minutes away from your place, but you said yes nonetheless. 

Five minutes later, you two were on your way to your place in complete silence, which was also something he wasn’t used to when you were around. You were usually the one who initiated conversations, knowing he wanted to talk to you but struggled with finding a good conversation starter. So, you’d be talkative and say something when the silence would grow uncomfortable.

But, not that night. Because it was so late at night and the neighborhood was eerily quiet, the sound of not talking became deafening. It wasn’t that Namjoon didn’t enjoy being with you in silence—you’ve spent a lot of time by the lake doing just that, each of you lost in their own thoughts but together.

However, that night wasn’t like any of those times. There were things hanging in the air, unsaid words clawing at Namjoon’s brain, making him overthink every single thing he’d said and done that night, wondering which one was the one that set you off. Because that was what you were—upset. Your lips were pursed, fists slightly clenched as you marched forward, breathing loud. You’d usually sneak glances his way when you walked next to him, give him a smile or two, but not that night. 

Namjoon mumbled something about it being a warm night, and you simply agreed, not even throwing him a bone and making a comment of your own. This type of behavior just confirmed his suspicions of you being upset. Even though Namjoon was aware that he should ask you what was wrong, he was too afraid of saying something wrong again, especially without liquid courage. 

Later, you said something about the sky looking like it was about to rain, and Namjoon had to agree—it was going to pour soon, and you two had to hurry if he wanted you to get home before it did. He told you that, saying he hoped you’d get there before it started raining. You didn’t say anything back and simply continued walking.

“Are you, uh… Are you maybe mad at me?” Namjoon mustered the words out after trying to gather up the courage for at least five minutes during which neither one of you said a word. He was nervous about asking you that question but couldn’t fight off the impression that something wasn’t right.

“I’m not mad,” you responded right away as if you were waiting for him to say something first. “I… I got too drunk, so maybe we shouldn’t touch on the topic of us tonight.”

“Us?” Namjoon repeated the word before he even got the chance to think about what you said. Clearly, you weren’t in the mood for deeper discussions, which he respected, but the word came out before he could stop it. 

Did something tonight make you think about you two, this ‘us’ he wanted so badly, made you reconsider it? It was probably the fact that Namjoon kept chickening out time and time again. How many chances could one person give, after all? At one point, something had to give or you had to give up on him. Is that why you were talking to Jimin again? Were you changing your mind?

“I—” you started, sounding determined to respond, a hint of anger on your face. However, you soon closed your mouth and sighed. “I’m stupid. That’s it. There’s nothing to talk about, really. If we do, I’ll just say too much and feel even dumber tomorrow. I’m sure you don’t know what that’s like, but maybe you can sympathize.”

You were rambling at this point, waving your hands around while you walked like you were late somewhere. You spoke so fast that it seemed you weren’t even breathing. Namjoon followed quickly, already feeling a bit out of breath. “I, uhm, am not really sure what to tell you except that you’re not stupid, no matter what’s worrying you right now.”

You chuckled and placed your hand on his shoulder for a second, and even that was enough for Namjoon’s heart to jump up. A simple touch, nothing more, and he already felt warmth spreading all over him. Still, he was too worried to relax completely. 

“If it’s something related to me, I’d like to talk about it once you feel like it,” Namjoon spoke up again after a couple of minutes of speed walking, deciding not to just let this go so easily, as he always did. If he really wanted to make things work and be a real partner, he had to say something and initiate conversation and be there for you. Staying silent and being in his head wouldn’t get him anywhere. You’d get tired of your thing feeling one-sided, and that wasn’t something he could risk, not after realizing how content he was around you.

You hummed to his plea and continued walking in silence, deciding not to address the subject again. For a long while, the only things Namjoon heard were your rushed footsteps and the clouds starting to crash into each other, rain threatening to start falling any second.

“Have things changed?” you finally spoke, sounding a bit defeated.

Namjoon stopped dead in his tracks his mouth flying open. You weren’t looking at him so you didn't notice that your question had shaken him to the core. It was not what he expected to hear. What did you mean by that? Was he too stupid to have this conversation? It seemed so. “I… I’m confused. What exactly do you mean?”

“Between us, Namjoon,” you spat the words out, now actually sounding annoyed with him. So, maybe he was the problem after all. “Since we started talking more.”

“Nothing’s changed, I think,” he added, jogging so he could catch up with you since you didn’t stop when he did. “Only for the better.”

“You’re sure of that?” you asked ominously, and Namjoon's breath hitched in his throat. You two always understood each other, which was something he enjoyed about your dynamic, even if you were so different in many aspects. That night, he couldn’t help but notice just how different you actually were.

“Well, not from my side,” he told you, which finally got you to stop walking. You just stood in place, took a deep breath, and nodded, but you did it in a way that made him think you didn’t actually believe him.

“Is that why you can’t kiss me back, why you avoid me when we’re in the same room?” you asked the questions Namjoon somehow knew you were going to ask. He knew he was making a mistake by not drinking, by going to a party you were attending if he wasn’t going to drink and have the guts to approach you. 

“No,” Namjoon said, reaching out to place his hand on your shoulder, which made you shudder. Seeing you react that way to his touch made him pull his hand away from you, regretful for touching you without permission. “Sorry, I… I’m not drunk. I act weird when I’m sober, especially in a place packed with overly confident drunk people. None of that is your fault, though, and I’ve felt bad about walking out on you all night.”

“I’m… It’s not your fault.” You sighed, suddenly deciding to start walking again, leaving Namjoon to catch up with you once more. “I know you’re not good with crowds when sober. I didn’t know you weren’t drinking.”

“That’s true, but it’s not an excuse,” Namjoon added, not wanting you to feel bad about something you had no idea about. Shouldn’t he have told you that he wouldn’t be drinking? “Have I hurt you?”

It was a stupid question, but he really needed to know. Namjoon didn’t think his actions were hurtful, but if they were, he clearly had to make it up to you and work on his interpersonal skills.

“By walking away after I kissed you?” you asked with a scoff, sounding hurt. When you put it like that, it sounded terrible. “No, I’ve dealt with worse. I didn’t know you were sober. I guess I… Fucked things up for myself tonight by thinking we were more than…” you waved your hand lightly, “whatever it is we are.”

Namjoon felt a pang of pain shoot through his chest at your words. Did he really make you feel that way? When he acted out of panic and ran away from something, he never took the time to think about how the person on the other end felt. In your case, he did think about you, but he never took into account all the possible ways you could feel, that being one of them. 

“Hey, no,” Namjoon huffed, finally getting the guts to stop you by grabbing your hand. He was successful at getting you to stand in place but not at getting you to face him, so he walked around you until he was face to face with you. 

It definitely wasn’t like Namjoon to get into someone’s face like that, but he couldn’t stand the idea of you walking away thinking he was rejecting you. Did you not know he was crazy about you already? It was pretty obvious to absolutely everyone, himself included, even though he prided himself in never getting too carried away.

Realizing he had to say something, Namjoon took a deep breath. “I’m sober and I act really weird because I like you and I don’t know how to act when we’re around other people. The general public really makes me nervous, especially if it’s filled with your friends who don’t know me. I’m sorry,” Namjoon said meekly, pausing for a second to take a deep breath. “It’s just that, I swear it has nothing to do with you or how I, uh, feel about you. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I really am. It was never my intention, but it clearly happened, and I hate that it did.”

“It’s… I’m sorry,” you whispered as you looked up at him finally with such a sad gaze Namjoon felt the urge to hug you, but he didn’t, of course. You were in the middle of your first argumen, if it could be called that, and it didn’t seem like the right time. “I have to accept that I can’t just kiss you at parties. But you’re confusing me. When you’re drunk, you have no problem getting all handsy with me and making out, but when you’re not, it’s like you don’t want to touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

“That’s really not true, I swear,” Namjoon said, lifting both his hands up to show he was being honest, even if that didn’t do much to help his case. 

How did he manage to mess things up so badly? Everyone in his life knew about you and about how shy and weird he was when you were around, even more so than he usually was. And yet, you didn’t seem to understand any of it, clearly under the impression that Namjoon wasn’t interested in you.

He quickly continued, hearing a hint of desperation in his own voice, “I know the way I acted today makes it seem so, but I promise you I always feel the same way. It’s just that the alcohol helps me relax when other people are around, which is messed up, and also why I am not drunk tonight. I wanted to show myself I can talk to you when I’m sober, but I forgot about all the people that were going to be there too. Nothing’s changed between us, from my side, at least.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure of that?” you questioned his statement, cocking your head to the side, eyes narrowing while you stared. “When we first started talking, you were all about dates and treating women the way they should be treated, but now it seems like we only see each other at parties and you only want me when you’re drunk. Call it nerves or whatever, but there’s no effort to meet outside of parties.”

“Oh.” 

That was all Namjoon could tell you because he needed to process everything you’d told him, dissect every thought, and try to explain how he saw things. In an effort to present himself as someone who could be talkative and fun and take initiative, Namjoon chose to see you at parties until he relaxed enough to spend time with you when sober and be intimate with you then. This stupid desire of his to have you think of him as any other guy you’ve dated clouded his judgment and made him forget the most important thing—you and your feelings in all of this.

“I…” he started, but his voice cracked under the pressure his mind was putting him through. “It does come off that way, and I am sorry. It seems like I’ve just been apologizing all night, and I’m sure my apology means nothing to you now after you’ve received ten of them, but I mean it. I truly am sorry that I made you think I only want to spend time with you when I’m drunk and when we… Get… Close, let’s say?”

“God, just say it!” you scoffed, shaking your head as if you were annoyed with him beating around the bush all the time. “When we get naked around each other? When we touch each other? When my hand’s around your dick, when your fingers are in me? Is that what you mean?”

Usually, any of those descriptions would make Namjoon get hard instantly, but the turn this conversation was taking was making him feel sick, so sex was the last thing on his mind. 

“Yes, that’s what I mean,” he said, clearing his throat, realizing he had to break free now or risk losing this thing of yours. “I don’t want to spend time with you only if it includes making out and coming. I am not sure how to make you believe it now when it does seem like we’ve just been seeing each other at school and or at parties, especially since I’ve told you I’d like to take you out on dates, and I just haven’t. School and work are getting to me, and I really don’t have that much free time, but I can and I will make time for you because I want to. If you still want to spend time with me.”

It was probably the most Namjoon has told you in a single breath. He felt like he was going on for hours, stuttering, probably not making any sense. His lips were quivering when he finished and was met with your blank stare. Maybe he should have listened and not opened that can of worms when you were drunk and angry. 

The look on your face told Namjoon you didn’t believe him. In your eyes, he was just like every other horny guy that had come your way, except less experienced and successful in getting himself laid. He promised you he’d move mountains for you and delivered on none of those promises. The only thing Namjoon successfully did was get you off twice, but he was sure someone else could do it in a better, more fun way. Therefore, he delivered none of what he promised, and you had every right to look at him like he was a liar.

Namjoon spoke again out of desperation, refusing to lose you after everything. Despite feeling sick to his stomach and the warmth that crept to his cheeks and ears, he decided he had to say something.

“My goal here is not to get… Intimate with you,” he started explaining, but realized you were glaring at him again, clearly sick of his euphemisms and circling around a subject. “I’m sorry, let’s start over. My goal here is not to sleep with you. If that happens, great, but I didn’t, uh… I’m not trying hard just to get you in bed. If that was all I was going for, I would have had sex with anyone by now.”

You gulped at that, but your face was expressionless, and Namjoon wasn’t sure what to make of it. The way you were looking at him added an extra layer of insecurity, so he continued, feeling like he was now rambling.

“I like that we get along, and that’s why I’m pursuing this. It’s nice to have a friend like you—” Namjoon grunted, only realizing what he’d said when he saw you wince. “Fuck. Listen, you are a friend to me by now, someone I can treat the same way I treat all my friends in the sense that I can talk to you about a lot of things, I trust you with them. But, you’re also someone I am attracted to, someone I want to be with. I like having you around and I’d love to spend more time with you. I’d see you every day if I could and if you wanted to. You’re absolutely right about me being an idiot and avoiding you and being unable to talk to you when sober, but I’m talking now, right?”

You kept nodding through his monologue and when he was done, Namjoon got all teary-eyed. It felt like he was bearing his soul and it just wasn’t enough. Was he really going to lose you, this thing of yours, the way you made him feel? 

“We shouldn’t have had this conversation when I’m drunk and you’re not,” you spoke slowly after taking a long, deep breath. “I feel like I’ve said things that have upset you, too, and I didn’t mean that to happen. Please, don’t be sad, there’s nothing to be sad about. Everything is okay. I just wanted to know where we stood, I guess. I wanted to know if I should pretend we’re friends at parties and only come looking for you when I want to fool around or if I can be around you without all tha—”

For the first time in a long time, Namjoon interrupted you, even though he hated doing that to anyone. “You can. Don’t even worry about that. Of course you can come say hi to me and kiss me and hug me whenever you want to. I messed up here, not you.”

“I… Thanks for saying all of that, Namjoon,” you said with a gulp, looking to the side before facing him again, this time seeming a lot less upset. “I just felt like an idiot all night, so I kept drinking, and I thought you did too, but you just didn’t feel like talking to me, and I… I don’t usually act this way, I swear. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I just feel like I’m too overwhelmed now to respond to all the nice things you said, which doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them.”

“You don’t have to respond,” Namjoon quickly responded, ecstatic that you were finally talking. At that moment, he thought the sound of your voice was a godsend, the sweetest sound possible. “I didn’t say it to have you say something back. I just wanted you to know how I feel because my actions tonight didn’t match what I was saying or feeling. I, uh, do like you a lot. Not just physically. That’s why I’m annoyed with myself now.”

“It’s, it’s fine,” you said softly, reaching in to pat his shoulder. “Stop being so sweet when I’m trying to be upset at you, you’re making things hard for me.”

“Oh, you really are drunk,” Namjoon joked, making both of you chuckle. You laughed with your body, leaning in towards him, hand moving down to his chest. Finally, a semblance of the way things usually are. “Be upset with me all you want, you have every reason to be.”

“I don’t, really, I am just stupid and—” you started with the same story again, and Namjoon cut you off, his hands grabbing your waist gently, voice shushing you softly.

“Hey, stop calling yourself stupid, especially for just wanting me to treat you the way you deserve,” he told you, hoping he sounded as confident as he was in his words. “You aren’t stupid for kissing me. I’m stupid for chickening out because your friends were there.”

“You’re not, not everyone’s the same around people,” you were quick to add with a sympathetic smile that warmed Namjoon’s chest right up. 

Even when you were trying to be angry and had every reason to be, you empathized with his situation and found an excuse for him, despite Namjoon acting like an idiot. He didn’t deserve you at all and at that moment, he felt like he couldn’t explain what was on his mind with words, so he leaned in and kissed you, simply pressing his lips against yours.

Surprisingly, you kissed back, leaning into his mouth, hands quickly moving up and wrapping around his neck. It was a desperate kiss, one that consisted of you two just holding each other close like you were afraid of losing what you had. So, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you tighter and broke the kiss. “I should have kissed you like this back at the party. Next time, I will.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, “I’m counting on it.”

“You can always count on me,” Namjoon promised, knowing he was going to make right on that promise. If you were nice enough to give him a second chance after he embarrassed you in front of all your friends and made you feel stupid and unworthy of attention, then he could and would walk over his shame to be a guy who can act like you’re his.  

Right then, as if you two were in the middle of a cheesy rom-com, it started raining. The drops were big and heavy, and Namjoon knew you still had a while to go to your place and that you would both probably get soaked. “Let’s run,” he told you, grabbing your hand. 

You two did that for a couple of minutes in an effort to find cover before all hell broke loose, but you failed. You couldn’t trespass and hide on people’s porches, and the rain got heavy really fast. Two blocks in, you were soaked, but Namjoon kept running and holding your hand, wanting to get you home as soon as possible, cursing himself for starting that conversation with you on your way home. 

“Stop, Namjoon!” you yelled, trying to be louder than the rain. “Stop.” 

You stopped running and pulled him back, making him stop in the middle of the street and face you. At that point, drops were streaming down your faces like tears, and your hair was all wet, yet you looked like one of the women from old paintings, mystical, beautiful. Namjoon wasn’t drunk, but his feelings were going wild now that he felt that things were okay again.

“Why?”

“We’re already wet,” you laughed with your arms spread, throwing a glance up at the sky. “Might as well enjoy it.”

“Once again, you really are drunk,” Namjoon recycled his joke and spread his arms, letting the warm rain wash over him. Thankfully, it wasn’t a cold night, so the rain didn’t make you two freeze. His glasses were unusable at that point, the raindrops making it impossible for him to see, but Namjoon still kept them on. “It does feel kind of nice.” 

Without a word, you grabbed his hands and moved in closer, getting your hands in a position that made it seem like you were about to start dancing. “May I have this dance?”

Namjoon laughed loudly at your request, even though he knew you were serious. You looked like it, at least. So, he cleared his throat, straightened his back, and nodded, even though he knew next to nothing about dancing and wasn’t very good at it. Plus, there was no music, but it seemed like you were too tipsy to care. Namjoon instantly recognized the waltz you were humming as you led the dance, moving in circles down the street, breaking into fits of laughter as you did so.

Usually, Namjoon would cringe at people doing something like that in public, but that time, he couldn’t. He was too busy enjoying it and living it, finally breathing freely after what seemed like hours of anxiety. In other words, he finally felt relaxed. Happy, even. And, if you wanted to dance with him in the middle of a street in the rain, who was he to say no to you?

Besides, you weren’t in public, practically. Public meant people, and there were no people around, especially not in the thick rain. So, it felt like you and Namjoon had the streets to yourself. 

When you got tired of dancing, you held his hand and continued walking with a little pep in your step, which he found adorable. It seemed to him that he was not the only one relieved you two managed to sort things out. Obviously, you had at least a fraction of the feelings he felt for you.

“Can I kiss you?” Namjoon asked out of the blue, wanting to check with you. After all, you’d just argued, and he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“Do you have to ask?” you retorted with a grin.

The next thing Namjoon knew, his tongue was in your mouth, hands holding onto your wet shirt, mouth unable to get enough of you. You tasted so sweet and warm, and he missed that feeling. He was also pretty sure you let out a light moan into his mouth, but the rain was deafening at that point. 

Somehow, he managed to walk you backward until your back hit a wall and he was standing between your legs, one of which soon wrapped around his waist while your hands moved in around his neck. The position allowed him to sink deeper against you, body pressed against yours. Namjoon couldn’t get enough of you.

“Ah, you—” Namjoon tried to whisper but gave up when he realized you could only hear him if he raised his voice. “You drive me crazy.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Joonie?” you teased, opening your eyes to give him a hot smirk before kissing him again, holding onto him tight. 

In a matter of minutes, Namjoon was rutting against you, feeling dirty but liberated at the same time. The friction wasn’t doing much for either of you, but the whole scene was arousing. The mere fact that you were making out in public, his erection pressing against your mound, though over clothes, was enough to mess with his mind and make Namjoon forget all his decency. 

But, it wasn’t just sexual at all. He was overwhelmed with relief. You weren’t going to walk out on him for being an idiot earlier. Your opinion of him didn’t change because of a stupid mistake he made, and life seemed easy. So, when Namjoon kissed you, he gave it his all, his entire body reacting to you, warmth taking over him. It wasn’t just sexual—his heart felt like it was about to spring free from his chest, and he just wanted to kiss you and make sure you were real.

After another minute of desperate kissing, he decided to do the right thing. He had to. “You’re going to get sick,” Namjoon hummed into the kiss, his hands around your waist, squeezing it softly. “I should get you home.”

And get you home he did, even if half an hour later. It wasn’t exactly only his fault—you stopped walking every couple of minutes just to kiss, getting carried away easily. By the time you two reached your place, the rain had stopped, but that didn’t mean you were any less soaked. Still, neither of you seemed to mind.

Namjoon walked you up to your front door, wanting to make sure you got inside safely before he left. “Thanks for the walk,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “I really needed… it.”

“Me too,” he wasn’t ashamed to admit that time. “I’m glad we could talk.”

The way you looked at him made Namjoon blush and push his glasses up his nose, which just reminded him they were completely wet because of the rain, which made them practically useless. 

“Oh, wait!” You opened the door and ran inside, returning a couple of seconds later with a cotton cloth. “Here, this should help.”

While Namjoon cleaned his glasses, he could feel your stare on him, but he didn’t mind it. After all, he’d come so close to losing it that he couldn’t even complain about you looking at him. He just had to get used to the fact that someone liked him enough not to walk away because of his shyness, and that wasn’t a small feat. Namjoon just felt like that would never happen for him. If he was being honest, he was surprised that he even had friends, seeing as he was just weird. So, having more than a friend was a big thing in his world, let alone someone who made his head spin like you did.

When he was done with wiping his glasses, he handed you back the cloth. Instead of pulling his hand away from yours, Namjoon kept it there, reaching for the other hand as well before leaning in to kiss you goodbye. He did it softly, gently, not wanting to turn things into something more. All he wanted was to show you he liked you too, and that he had no problem kissing you when sober, like he should have done back at the stupid party.

“Do you want to come inside?” you whispered the magic words which instantly got all the blood from his brain to rush to his cock. Were you suggesting what he thought you were? “I’m home alone.”

That was it. If Namjoon said yes, he’d come inside and probably get to sleep with you. The thought made his heart beat like crazy, drumming in his ears. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about getting to sleep with you—Namjoon thought about it often. He wasn’t exactly the horny type, but now that he’d met someone he clicked with, someone he could trust, someone he enjoyed spending time with, nothing was standing in his way of finding out just how good sex actually felt. 

However, your tipsy chuckle instantly made him shake the thought away. The timing wasn’t right, and Namjoon didn’t want to compromise your friendship-relationship in any way, especially not by rushing into sex when you were drunk.

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t,” he turned you down with a heavy heart. He wanted you more than you probably understood, in a way he’d never wanted anyone before he met you, but it wasn’t something you could relate to, he was sure. Still, Namjoon hoped you wouldn’t take his rejection the wrong way, so he offered an explanation, “You’ve been drinking, and I haven’t, so I can’t do this.”

“I’m not asking this because I’m drunk, trust me,” you started to explain yourself, but Namjoon was already aware of that. You both clearly wanted each other, which was something he was still coming to terms with because it seemed surreal. You wanted a guy like him? That only happened in movies. And, his life, apparently. “I want it when I’m sober. And I know you do, too.”

“I do,” Namjoon admitted, hoping the rain was overpowering the sound of his gulp. It was a personal thing, something that wasn’t easy to admit, yet it didn’t feel as terrifying as he had expected it to. “But let’s do this when we’re sober, huh?”

Instead of saying something in return or getting upset over it or even trying to convince him you weren’t drunk, you leaned in and kissed Namjoon, hands cupping his face while your lips pressed against his, breath fanning his face.

A couple of seconds later, you pulled away and opened the door again. “You see?” you asked, stepping inside while still facing him. “This is why you’re the best guy I’ve ever dated. Thank you for walking me home. You can come in and get warm and stay over without… You know, doing anything.”

The best guy you’ve ever dated? Namjoon almost fainted when he heard you say that, brain short-circuiting. Namjoon? The best? Out of all the guys that have been lucky enough to date you? It sounded unreal.

“I’d love to, but I’d really like to get out of these soaking clothes.” He looked down at his shirt, realizing everything was sticking to his body, and not in a fun way.

“I understand.” You nodded, taking a step towards him just to peck him again. “I’m home alone all weekend, and you can come over whenever you want. If you…” You sighed, which made Namjoon feel like you were nervous, for a change. “If you feel like it, you should come over. We can just hang out, watch some TV, play board games... Or you can bring some condoms. It’s your call.”

Dust was flowing all around when the North wing of the castle got hit and you ducked towards the ground, trying to avoid the flying pieces of brick that were catapulted through space. The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties." Those words of McGonagall were the words that got you in this exact position. The battle had started a couple of hours ago and you didn’t have to think twice about what you were going to do. You knew which side you were on and that was the right side of history. ‘Everyone ok?!’ It was Professor McGonagall who yelled the words through the corridor as she ran towards you. Dean Thomas was laying next to you on the floor, trying to get up slowly.  Angelina Johnson and Terry Boot were laying a couple of meters from you, both alive as well. It seemed that Terry got a nasty cut above his left eyebrow.  McGonagall had assigned the four of you as heads of the group to defend the North wing while she was going to get more wands for this side of the castle. The four of you had fought hard and managed to keep the Death Eaters at bay, until now. They had succeeded in creating a hole in the walls of the Castle. It looked like a huge crater and took up several floors. ‘We are all fine professor, but we need more wands on this side of the castle. We won’t be able to keep them out for much longer.’ Dean yelled while he held out his hand so you could get up as well. Everything was going so fast, it was only hours ago that you had dinner with the rest of Slytherin in the Great Hall and now you were fighting in a full ongoing war. ‘Dean duck! Expelliarmus!’ The boy did as you told him and you disarmed the death eater who apparated behind him. ‘Bloody hell, if I survive this I’m going to ask Emily to marry me. No more waiting because see what just can happen out of the blue.’

‘You might go look for her right now then because if it keeps going like this we all be dead by morning. Stupify!’ The two of you tried to keep the spirit up by small talking, trying to pretend that wasn’t as serious as it was. Teens fighting for their lives, for their freedom. This wasn’t normal but this was your reality. Life had changed over the past couple of months. Your professors had tried as good as their abilities let them to prepare you for this war and students started to choose sides. You quickly looked over your shoulder, students were running around waving their wands and yelling spells to protect themselves and the castle. There were students who weren’t even sixteen yet, fighting for their freedom. This war worked in weird ways, uniting Slytherin with Gryffindor students, fighting side by side trying to keep the one place that you truly called your home safe. ‘Don’t you want to see Draco then?’ It was no secret that the two of you had a turbulent relationship during the past four years and the months leading up to the war hadn't made it any easier. You had reached an age where you thought he was your future. Okay the two of you still had your ups and downs but you were willing to take the adventure with him no matter what the future might bring. But then everything changed as everyone started to prepare themselves for the upcoming war and Draco had a hard time fitting himself into this whole thing. 

‘He’s in de dungeons with the other Slytherin students who didn’t want to fight their kin.’ It was merely a mumble when it left your lips. A lot had changed between you and Draco over the years. While he was in his sixth year, he had been acting strange the whole year, sneaking around and not telling you where he went. Ignoring you when he saw you outside of Hogwarts. You thought that he was cheating on you at first, that was until you saw the black ink on his arm. He had joined them, he had become a death eater and you didn’t know how to handle the situation. You had confronted him about it, demanding an explanation but the only thing he said was that you wouldn’t understand. You didn’t support his decision but you loved him and that made leaving him way more complicated than you thought. Plus he kept saying that he had no choice and that you wouldn’t understand even if he tried to explain. Things got messy quickly and it was a topic the two of you rarely spoke about. After a while everything went back to normal as if nothing had happened until now. He was stressed, missed classes and acted strangely. But everything made sense when you realized what was about to happen. The second wizarding war.  ‘I get it, I don’t know if I could fight or let alone kill one of my relatives if they would stand in front of me. It's a good thing I don't have any family left.’ A sad smile formed on your lips as you spoke those words. Voldemort had killed them all, one by one as they refused to join his army. On the one hand, you were proud of them, resisting and all but they paid for that bravery with their lives. Leaving you all by yourself, the only person you had left was Draco.

‘Y/n duck! Reducto!’ You could see how a death eater who had his wand at the ready exploded in a pile of dust right before he could cast his own spell. ‘I kind of feel sorry for you guys, I can’t imagine what it must be like to be born into this kind of environment and have to fight your family and acquaintances.’ You just nodded as you stupefied a death eater who tried to blow Dean to pieces. ‘Some of them are afraid of what might happen if they choose but others are just on the wrong side of this war, believing in the greater good that Voldemort promises. If I were McGonagall I would have locked them up for war crimes instead of keeping them safe in those dungeons.’ Dean started laughing. ‘I like your way of thinking y/l/n, I don’t understand why it had to come to a war before the two of us hung out.’ A small smile appeared on your lips when you heard Dean’s words. He was a nice guy, you could tell that from what you had seen today. He saved your life a couple of times and you did the same for him. The two of you could have been friends if you had met under different circumstances. ‘Let’s blame our housing system for that shall we.’ You let your thoughts wander around whiles you tried your best to let none of the death eaters passes you. 

Was Draco on the wrong side of history? He often told you that you didn’t understand his position in this whole situation and that it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You had known him since your first year at Hogwarts, he was in the year above you and people called him the Slytherin prince. You could not stand him at first whit his cocky attitude and his disapproving look at wizards who weren’t purebloods. Slowly you started to see a different side of the boy, he pretended to be more harsh and brutal than he really was. He had a soft side that he only showed when the two of you were together in private. It took some time for you to come around but when the two of you were in your fourth and fifth years everything changed. The two of you had become friends over the years but when the yule ball took place he had asked you to be his date, you had agreed and before you knew the two off you were dating. After he started the college program you became inseparable, much to the annoyance of Pansy and the rest was history. You had been dating for the past four years and that was it. Meeting his parents was a big thing since they didn’t approve of your openmindedness. At least Lucius hated it, Narcissa didn’t care that much she was happy that her baby boy finally had found someone. Now that you thought of it, Draco did get influenced by his parents after all. Maybe you took it for granted to have a choice in this whole thing. Lucius Malfoy was a devoted death eater and did everything to be in the good graces of the dark lord even sacrificing his son proved to be no problem for him. You could not imagine how that must have been for Draco, he grew up in that hostile environment and had some of the most dangerous wizards as family. You could not imagine how it must have been to have Bellatrix Lestrange as your aunt, she was one crazy person. 

‘Aaahgh!’ It was a frightening scream that pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a couple of seconds to realise what had happened. Angelina fell screaming to the floor on top of Terry’s body, he was just lying there, lifeless with his eyes staring into space. ‘Holy shit. Angelina get back up you are going to get yourself killed!’ It was Dean who was yelling at the girl whiles he kept defending the castle from where you and he were standing. Without thinking twice you ran over to where Angelina was crying over the loss of her friend and waved your wand towards a death eater who flew in. ‘Stupify!’ You couldn't keep up with how many Death Eaters you had already attacked in the past hours. ’Angelina, please get up we cannot do this with the two of us. Angelina!’ She did not respond, her screams filled the space, cutting deep through your body. You had been in her position before, losing someone you cared about was never easy. Dean and yourself did the best you could and kept as many intruders as possible out but there were just too many death eaters and you were getting desperate.  It seemed as if hours had passed when Kingsley and Arthur Weasley walked towards the four of you. ‘We are incredibly proud of you kids, you have fought bravely side by side -’ Kingsley was praising you as he and a couple of last years passed your group to form a barricade between the death eaters and you. That was when he noticed Terry’s body lying lifeless on the floor and he got a look of compassion on his face. ‘He was a brave young man, surrounded by his friends while he fought for what he thought was right.’ It was the first moment in hours that you could lower your wand because of the reinforcements. ‘We will take it from here so the three of you can catch your breaths before you have to help Minerva in the main hall.’ Arthur nodded at you when he saw you were in doubt. ‘It’s fine, your help is needed elsewhere y/n.’ Dean grabbed your hand and started pulling you away. ‘We will come back as soon as we can, I promise.’ The three of you started walking around the castle, looking for a quiet place so you could catch up with what just happened. You ended up in the Gryffindor common room, it was completely abandoned. ‘Angie, you need to get yourself together, you owe this to Terry!’ Dean was trying to get her to cooperate but it seemed as if she was in a state of shock. You paced through space trying to figure out your next move. Dean was right, you had to find Draco before it was too late. Who knew what was going to happen to the two of you. ‘Dean, I don’t know about you but I’m going to find Draco. I want to see him since one of us probably won’t make it to the morning.’  A grin appeared on his face. ‘Go, what are you waiting for?!’ 

You had been wandering around in the dungeons, not able to find the blond-haired Slytherin anywhere. Slytherin students were sitting on the ground, some of them were crying while others were annoyed about the fact that they were locked up in there for their own protection. The only familiar face you found was that of Blaise Zabini, one of Draco’s close friends. He said that he lost track of Draco in the chaos of the ‘evacuation’ and hadn’t seen him in a couple of hours. What brought you back to the point where you had started. Nowhere. ‘How is everyone holing up upstairs?’ Blaise caught you by surprise with his question, he normally didn’t care about anyone beneath his position so you figured he was fine with Voldemords wishes to create a pure-blood wizarding world. ‘They are trying their bests, and a lot of kids are willing to fight for what they think is right. I don’t know if we will win this or not but they’re fighting with everything they’ve got.’ He nodded. ‘Good, good.’

When you didn’t find Draco you started making your way over to the great hall as Arthur had told you. Everywhere you looked there was debris laying around, dust was swirling around because of the walls that had crumbled down and statues that had collapsed. People were covered in blood whiles they were running around casting spells. It was a sad scene and made you wonder what would be left of the great hall. When you arrived you saw that what once was the big entry door to the great hall was now replaced with a big gaping hole. Glass was laying everywhere and students were screaming as they were fighting for their lives. There was not much time to think since death eaters were flying around the place like hawks preying on their prey. ‘Stupify!’ Whiles you ran towards the middle of the room you manage to get some of them out of the sky. ‘Professor, I’m here where do you need me?’ McGonagall looked as if she could spit fire, eyes as dark as the night as she swung her wand above her. ‘Y/n, it’s good to see that you’re still alive.’ Minerva had a small smile of appreciation on her face as she padded you on the back. ‘Likewise professor, likewise.’ 

‘We had help from an unexpected source.’ While she said those words she pointed towards the other end of the great hall and you could not believe your eyes. ‘W-when did he change his mind?’ Draco swung his wand around, plucking death eaters out of the sky as if it was nothing. He was a better wizard than the average twenty-five-year-old, but you already knew that. You saw him cast spells without saying a word, you needed skills and utter concentration to be able to use nonverbal magic. ‘Right after you and Dean ran off to the Northern wing, he hasn’t left the hall since. He is a great wizard, never saw it this in him if I can be honest.’ A proud smile grew on your lips as she spoke, that was your man. ‘Join him, he can use the help.’ With those words she ran off, flicking her wand in the air aiming at yet another death eater. You started making your way over to the blond-haired boy who was standing with his back to you so he couldn’t see you approaching. ‘Reducto!’ The number of death eaters seemed endless, for everyone you killed three others took their place. They just kept coming. ‘Confringo!’ The explosion made Draco look to his left and that’s when he saw you. His face was covered in dirt, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek and his eyes looked red as if he had been crying.  ‘Y/n!’ That was all you needed to start running towards him. You threw yourself in his arms and just for a second, you could forget everything that was going on around the two of you. ‘You have no idea how proud I am of you right now. What you are doing asks for a lot of bravery.’ The two of you let go of each other and retook your positions. Draco kept your left hand in his right hand, not letting go of you. The two of you fought like that for what felt like hours, killing every death eater that came on your path while trying to stay alive yourselves. ‘Mcgonagall was genuinely surprised when you came to help and by your skills as a Wizard!’ You yelled at him as you swung your wand in the air aiming at Antonin Dolohov's throat. ‘Sectumsempra!’ You successfully slit the man's throat and blood started gushing out, it was the least he deserved. ‘I would go to the end of the world if that means I can be with you, and right now the end of the world is here.’ Your heart made a little jump when you heard those words and a small smile grew on your lips. ‘You’re doing the right thing Draco and not only for me but for yourself as well. You deserve redemption.’ He squeezed your hand gently as he heard your words. ‘We will see about that after this war.’  

He had his white button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows, showing the dark mark on his lower left arm as he was wielding his wand. How could it be that the two of you never spoke of what had happened, what he had been through? Seeing him standing here, defending Hogwarts and your future, how could he be the same boy that agreed on joining the dark side? He did it for his parents, of course, but seeing him now meant that he mentally never supported the dark side, right? You felt sorry for him, sorry that you weren’t there to help him during that period. It all became messy so quickly that you didn’t know how to handle it and if you tried to step in he only said that you could not imagine what was going on. ‘Draco, you know I love you right?!’ You blurted the words out as you blasted another reducto-spell. He pulled you towards him, lowering his wand so he could place his hand on your cheek right before he pressed his lips on yours. There you stood, making out with him in the middle of the ongoing battle, not knowing if you would be dead by dawn or not. ‘I love you y/n, never forget that.’ Before you could say anything else the two of you were forced to retake your positions and started casting spells again. But then everyone stopped as they heard Voldermord’s voice echoing through the castle.

“You have fought valiantly but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I, therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”

His voice made the hairs on your arms stand up, it could cut through bones. Students and staff around you started whispering, wondering what the next step would be. The attacking death eaters did disappear and everyone could breathe. Draco swung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close.’You fought bravely y/n, but I didn’t expect anything less from you.’ He had a proud grin on his face as he was speaking, he looked tired. ‘How is your face?’ The blood had dried up but the cut itself looked painful as hell. ‘Someone who didn’t know how to use Sectumsempra curse properly,’ he mumbled as he placed his fingers softly on his cheek, ‘but it is not that bad.’ You just nodded. The two of you started to walk towards one of the benches that was standing against one of the walls. Debris was laying everywhere, you had to look out where you placed your feet to avoid tripping. ‘I saw Blaise earlier today, he was in the dungeons and wanted to know how the fight was going.’ Draco’s face twisted in a grimace as you were walking and he grabbed his side. ‘He was torn between joining or staying and I told him to stay if he had to think about it for so long.’ As the two of you sat down Draco inhaled sharply. ‘What is going on with you?’ ‘Carrow used the crucio spell on me earlier today and I fell with my side on some debris. He said I was a blood traitor.’ He slowly lifted his shirt, showing the purple bruise that was forming right above his hips. But it seemed that the words had a bigger impact on his mental state as you saw the torn expression in his eyes. ‘You are not a traitor Draco, you did the right thing to fight with us.’You softly traced the outlining with your fingers, inspecting it for further injuries. ‘Did I?’ He was questioning his own actions and you couldn’t imagine the scenarios flashing through his mind. ‘You did babe, you really did.’ You softly placed your hand on his cheek to reassure him. 

‘Mr. Malfoy, you surprised friend and foe today with your brave act.’ Just great. It was professor Slughorn who took place next to the two of you, ‘I’ve always wondered which side you would choose.’ Draco readjusted his shirt as the elderly man took place next to us. ‘Professor, happy to see you are still alive.’ You tried to change the subject of the conversation as you noticed how annoyed Draco was. ‘I heard that you did a great job on defending the Northern part of the castle with Mister Dean Thomas y/n. Outstanding.’ You wondered if Dean had found Emily after all. ‘We got some help from other students as well.’ ‘I see.’ Professor Slughorn kept talking for a bit before he made his way over to the rest of the Professors. ‘You fought bravely kids, we are proud of you don’t forget that.’ You gave him a small smile. ‘Did you hear what he said? He always wondered which side I would choose?’ You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. ‘To be fair, I went straight to the dungeons to look for you. You fighting on behalf of McGonagall was the last thing I had expected to be honest.’ A small smile appeared on your lips. ‘She thought I was joking at first but then she realised why I wanted to help and she let me. Did she really say that I’m a great wizard?’ You nodded. ‘Dude, not everyone is as good as nonverbal magic as you are, I can’t even do it and I’m turning twenty-four.’ He laughed and shook his head, you loved that sound. ‘You got other qualities, don’t underestimate yourself.’ His words were filled with humour and you rolled your eyes while you placed your head on his shoulder. ‘We were talking about magic skills Malfoy.’ 

The two of you just sat in silence, both not wanting to move so you could enjoy as much time together as possible. ‘They will never let Potter hand himself in.’ You mumbled while you closed your eyes. ‘I wouldn’t let him do it and I don’t even know him personly. Hermoine will never let him do that to himself.’ You could feel how Draco nodded his head in agreement with you. ‘If it was one of our friends we would do everything to keep them safe as well, it is understandable.’ He placed his hand on top of your knee and started drawing circles with his thumb. ‘I have no idea how this will escalate but from all the intel I got, this doesn’t stop until one of them is dead.’ Dead and wounded people started getting carried inside. People were rushing around to set up an improvised medical bay so they could help whoever needed it. It was a pessimistic scene. You knew that you were outnumbered if there wouldn’t come reinforcements quickly. Students taking on full-fledged wizards could only last for a while. If you looked around you could see how tired and scared everyone actually was. Students were fighting people who were thirty years older than them, having life experience while the only thing they learned was how to use spells in a safe environment. They were sitting ducks for the death eaters. 

The atmosphere suddenly changed, people started running outside and you could hear screams. Draco gave you a confused look and the two of you followed the crowd. ‘What is going on?’ You mumbled as you tried to look through the sea of people. Draco your hand in his as the two of you walked outside, squeezing your eyes against the brightness of the daylight. ‘Dad? Who's Hagrid carrying? Dad? Who is it?’ You heard Ginny yell at the front of the crowd. That was the moment when you saw Voldemort walking towards the castle, Hagrid on a chain carrying a body in his arms. You squeezed Draco’s hand and got closer to him as the two of you stood in the middle of the crowd. ‘Harry Potter is dead!’ It took you a couple of seconds to realize what just had been said. Harry was dead. ‘No, no!’ You saw how Ginny tried to run forward but Arthur swung his arms around his daughter stopping her in her steps. Voldemort flicked his wand in the air to silence everyone. ‘Silence! Stupid girl. Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth you put your faith in me. Harry Potter is dead!’ It was Bellatrix Lestrange's laugh echoed over the schoolyard. Everyone on your side was in utter shock from the words they just heard. This was not how you imagined the end of this war. ‘And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us or die.’ Voldemort's words were followed by an uncomfortable silence whiles students were glancing at each other. Their gaze lingered on Draco as they wondered what his next move would be since they all knew he had the dark mark. Draco stiffened next to you, not saying a word while his face looked emotionless. But you knew better so you softly squeezed his hand as you placed your other arm on his bicep, pulling him even closer.  That was the moment when Lucius Malfoy took a step forward, extending his hand. ‘Draco, Draco.’ You looked up at the man beside you and you could see how his lip was trembling. ‘Draco, come.’ His mother Narcissa now spoke softly at her son. He was torn between his family and his own will and it broke your heart to see him like this. ‘Draco, you can choose for yourself. You don’t have to listen to them if that is not what you want. I am here with you and I’m not going anywhere.’ It was only a soft mumble that left your lips but it was enough to fill Lucius's eyes with rage as he heard those words. Draco looked down on you and you could see the fear in his eyes, he was putting his life on the line and you knew it. The moment he would say that he stayed he would be seen as a traitor and you all knew the consequences of that. He would be seen as a traitor no matter what, if he choose to go to their side he would be betraying Harry’s side. All you wanted to scream was ‘stay’ but you had to let him make up his own mind. He straightened his back and looked straight at his father. ‘No.’ ‘But Draco-’ ‘I said no. You can't command me any longer, I've had enough.’ A proud smile grew on your lips as you heard his words and you squeezed his hand encouragingly. ‘Foolish boy!’ Voldemort’s words echoed over the schoolyard and you suddenly got struck by a feeling of fear. Before anything else could happen Harry rolled out of Hagrid’s arms and started running towards the castle. Cheers rose from your side and everyone rushed back inside, wands at their ready as they were willing to die for this cause. 

Draco pulled you behind him as the two of you entered the great hall, wielding your wands at every threat you saw. You fought bravely for a couple of hours when all of a sudden every death eater disappeared and the room went quiet. ‘What just happened?’ You mumbled quietly at Draco. ‘I have no clue, y/n.’ People stood still in their tracks as they looked at each other, not knowing what to do. ‘Is he dead?’ It was a Ravenclaw girl who asked the question at no one in particular. Could it be? Was this the end of it? You did not have to wait long for the answer as Harry walked in through the hole in the wall, holding the elder wand. Students started to cheer, tears of happiness and relief rolling over cheeks as praises left their mouths. ‘We did it.’ You turned around so you were facing Draco. ‘Babe, we actually did it.’ You were screaming in your excitement and he laughed when he saw your joy. ‘Come here you.’ He pulled you in a tight hug with both arms tightly wrapped around you. ‘We did it.’ He murmured against your hair. The two of you just stood there for a moment, letting your guards down and enjoying each other's company. 

Your touring schedule was going to be perfect since it would leave you enough time to relax and get ready for the next tour date. The tour was about to start soon, and you should have been focusing on that and that alone instead of those tulips and Puddle of Love’s US closing concert. For some reason, you found it hard not to think about Jungkook, even though there was no contact between the two of you.

It seemed like Jungkook got your message and decided to finally leave you alone. Even though that was what you wished for, you realized that getting what you want isn’t always a good thing. After all, you thought about him all the time, even more so now that you two didn’t communicate in any way, as this just left so many options open and you found yourself worrying about him more often than not.

You only gave one performance of your new album thus far and it was a hit, and now you needed to get mentally ready for the tour. Performing here and there was a lot different than performing on a tight schedule and ensuring that your performance was top-notch every single time, even when you didn’t feel like it.

Puddle of Love’s touring schedule was crazy and you wondered how they were able to keep up with everything. It seemed like they were playing every second or third day. Your schedule was a lot less crowded, but you arranged that with Andre because you were afraid of the trips taking their toll on you. If people paid for your concert, they deserved to see the best version of you and have a great time.

How Puddle of Love did it was beyond you. Their opening night was in L.A. Then, they made their way east all the way to New York, and after they were done, they went back west and were about to have a US closing concert before going to South America.

It seemed like it’s been years since you’d last seen them, but it had only been a couple of weeks. Time dragged on whenever you thought about Jungkook and the way he looked at you or, even worse, sang about you, maybe that’s why it felt so long. Ever since he sent you those tulips and you didn’t respond to the handwritten message he sent, there’d been no word from him. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing.

Jungkook had sent you tickets for the US closing concert in the mail again, like he did for their first show, but you politely declined, saying that he should give the tickets to someone who hadn’t had the chance to see them live yet. It was your way of avoiding seeing Jungkook in the state you’d seen him last time, topped off with the fact that he’d sing those songs live too, tugging at your heartstrings all over again. It wouldn’t do you any good, seeing him perform. He’d be high, you’d get sad and go home and be even sadder about it.

You hadn’t seen Jungkook in a while and if you wanted to get over him somehow, you had to stop meeting up with him any chance you got and talking to him in general. What good could come out of the two of you professing your feelings to each other over text when life was moving on and leaving you behind?

Besides, Jungkook clearly wasn’t going to stop using drugs and your stance on that aspect of his life wouldn’t change. This meant you were stuck in a limbo of sorts, with no way out. Well, the only way out was to pretend Jungkook didn’t exist and avoid him at all costs, which is what Andre had already told you.

Finding these excuses to see Jungkook wasn’t working for you anymore, so with a heavy heart, you stayed in your hotel room instead of going to the concert. You couldn’t fall asleep that night, the regret of not going to the concert keeping you restless in bed, thoughts of possible scenarios running through your mind.

You could have gone and left after the concert ended, without having to go backstage and greet Jungkook, without talking to him. You wanted to see Jungkook and see how he was doing, but then you reminded yourself that nothing good would come out of that.

Since Jungkook didn’t keep pushing after you rejected his invitation, you hoped the silence meant that you’d both figured out staying away from each other was for the better. That is why a knock on your door at 3 am that morning stirred you right from sleep. You were still staying at the hotel, but this still didn’t excuse an early morning visitor—the staff wouldn’t show up that early and you knew no one who’d think it’s a good idea to visit at that time. Well, except...

Something inside had told you it was Jungkook before you even opened the door. Who else would think of you that late? Who else would be crazy enough to come see you at that hour and think that was acceptable?

When you opened the door, you found Jungkook leaning against the door frame, hair messy, curls framing his face, dressed in all black, that leather cap on his head. Of course, Jungkook was reeking of alcohol, an innocent smile on his face once he realized you were finally standing a foot away from him after all that time.

You looked at him questioningly, expecting an explanation on why he was there and what he wanted from you. If Jungkook thought he could just waltz back into your life after a night of partying, drugs, and alcohol, he was dead wrong. You cared about him, sure, but you wouldn’t support him in his self-destructiveness, and you surely wouldn’t reward it. If this was his way of working on your “relationship”, it wasn’t it.

“Hey,” Jungkook said, his voice cracking under the pressure of your stare, and you just glared at him, still waiting for him to explain. You weren’t about to welcome a drunk, high guy with open arms. “I’m sorry to barge in so late. I, I… Just wanted to see you.”

“Seriously?” You asked, looking down at your watch, hoping he wasn’t out of his mind again but he had to have been if he thought this was acceptable. “It’s past 3, what are you thinking?”

“That I have to get on a plane tomorrow right after noon and that the plane will take me to a different continent, and then another one, and then one more, and then God knows where, and that it will be months before we meet up in the same city again, which is kind of depressing considering I really like spending time with you in person and that’s the only way I get to talk to you nowadays since you don’t want to talk to me,” Jungkook said in one breath before sighing, the frown on his face giving away just how upset this thought made him. “I know it’s not the best time, but I have to be at the house at 10, Kijung’s orders, so I won’t be able to come see you tomorrow morning and I just really, really wanted to at least see you. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook gulped loudly, suddenly seeming out of place and insecure, as if he wasn’t sure if he’d made a huge mistake by coming here and waking you up. You guessed he felt that way because of the look on your face—you didn’t even smile, mostly because you were upset he’d come here unannounced in the middle of the night, drunk, and probably high, which is the next thing you wanted to know about.

What Jungkook was saying was sweet, but the question was if he really walked all over everything he’d promised you and then expected you to let him in just like that. If so, Jungkook thought he had a stronger hold of you than he did and he wanted to use that, which you didn’t appreciate.

“Are you high?” You asked a simple question, which made Jungkook take a deep breath and exhale loudly, looking straight into your eyes. You weren’t sure if the look in his eyes signified sadness, anger, or confusion.

“No!” Jungkook responded, still looking at you. His pupils didn’t seem dilated like the last time you’d seen him, and all the jitters and euphoria seemed gone too, his eyes seemed empty once again. “I get why you’d think that, and you have every right to doubt me, but I’m really not. I’m not that stupid.”

You had to chuckle at that and shake your head, feeling glad that Jungkook at least had the decency not to wake you up high since you felt there was no use in talking to him in that state and you didn’t support it in any way. He knew that wouldn’t work around you and that it would all be in vain. “Well, that’s something.”

“I know you hate it,” Jungkook said, finally looking away while you were unable to do so—you finally had him right in front of you, and you wanted to take all of him in. He looked a bit thinner than when you’d last seen him, and a lot more worn-out. “I tried not to… indulge ever since the first concert.”

“Good for you,” you said, this time cracking a smile, despite not wanting to. It was good to hear that Jungkook was trying to better himself and you hoped he would be able to keep it up. He deserved to be happy. “What do you… What do you need from me?”

“I want to be with you,” Jungkook said, his face still expressionless, which made it impossible for you to grasp the meaning of his words. In what way? He didn’t flinch or react to his own words. Instead, he stared right into your eyes, still leaning against the door frame.

“Be?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow up. What he meant exactly wasn’t that clear to you — be could mean a lot of things, most of which you definitely shouldn’t do with Jungkook, despite wanting to.

“Next to you,” Jungkook chuckled, realizing what you thought he’d meant. “I wasn’t asking to have sex with you. I mean, man, I wouldn’t turn that down, but I know it’s not the time nor the place, and I respect everything you told me about why you don’t want to get involved with me. I get it and I don’t blame you. I’m a fucking trainwreck that caught fire,” Jungkook spoke about it in a way that made your chest ache—he acted like he was longing for something unattainable when it was just you, and it really wasn’t like that. “I just want to spend time with you.”

“At 3 am?” You asked another question, now leaning against the edge of the door, your gaze moving down as you thought about his offer.

It hurt just seeing Jungkook, but it would hurt even more if you let him leave in this state—alone, drunk, and clearly sad. Jungkook didn’t seem drunk out of his mind, not at all, but you could tell he’d been drinking and that he was having a bad time. Isn’t this what you had asked him to do, come see you when he felt down?

“I… I was at the concert earlier, then backstage, then greeting all the people and stuff, you know how it goes…” Jungkook spoke, looking up from the floor at you. “And then I had a couple of drinks so I could come here.”

“Because you couldn’t talk to me without that?” You asked, hoping that wasn’t the case. You used to be able to talk to each other completely sober. Did it all really turn to shit in a couple of months? If Jungkook needed to have something in his system to have a conversation with you, he was too far gone.

“No,” Jungkook shook his head, refusing the idea, the look on his face serving as proof of his rejection of it. “For courage, I guess. I fucked up the last time we saw each other, I know. My plan wasn’t to come here. In all honesty, it was to get wasted and find someone to hook up with, so I wouldn’t have to be alone. But then I just… Didn’t feel the need for that,” Jungkook tongued the inside of his cheek and looked away. “Like you’ve said, what’s the point? I don’t care about these people, there’s no fun left in that. So I drank to get ready for something that wouldn’t happen, but it suddenly dawned on me that I could come see you. At least that would mean something, even if we talked for a minute or two, despite the terrible timing.”

Instead of responding, you opened the door and stepped to the side so Jungkook could walk in. His words were enough for you to change your mind and prove to yourself just how weak you were when he was around. Despite everything you stood for, you couldn’t just let Jungkook walk away.

The hotel suite was your temporary home in LA. You owned a house in the suburbs, but you rarely spent time there unless you had some time off—you didn’t want to bring work to your personal space. This apartment was closer to the studio and all your commitments regarding the concert preparations, so it was the perfect place for you. Besides, the place had security and everything else you needed, minus the privacy, so you felt at home there, in a way. Letting Jungkook in meant a lot in your world, even if he didn’t get that.

Jungkook walked into the living room area reluctantly, unsure of whether he was supposed to sit down and relax or if he was just let in so you wouldn’t have to have a conversation in the hallway. You couldn’t let him go this way, especially not after the things he’d told you. The foolish part of you wanted to believe he’d stopped using, but you knew that he used from time to time, at least. It wasn’t something he could quit so easily.

“Do you need to take a shower?” You suggested, hoping that would make the stench of alcohol and cigarettes go away, because both reminded you of the lifestyle you hated.

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy drinking yourself, far from it, you two drank together at the villa—it’s just that it served as a reminder of everything you hated between the two of you. If Jungkook were the type of guy who didn’t have to get drunk or high to do his job, you could have been together. If you were the type of girl who could look past that, you could have been together.

Neither of you were that, though, and that was the tragedy of it all.

Jungkook gladly accepted your offer and once you showed him the bathroom, you went back to your bedroom, knowing he’d be staying the night, even if neither one of you confirmed that out loud. You sure as hell weren’t going to sit in the living room and talk until the morning—you could do that from the comfort of your own bed while trying to resist the urge to touch him and torture yourself that way.

Jungkook joined you not long after, standing next to the door hesitantly, wearing only his underwear, which made your decision not to touch him even harder. He’d lost some weight, probably wasn’t eating or sleeping well, probably drank a lot, anxiety over his mother and his career keeping him up at night. Still, he hadn’t lost any of the attractiveness that always oozed out of him, even when he was feeling self-conscious.

“We can sleep next to each other,” you told him, pulling the cover off the other side of the bed as a way of inviting him to join you, which he gladly accepted.

The decision was messy from the start, but what else was there to do, let Jungkook sleep on the sofa? You hadn’t seen him in weeks and you wouldn’t see him in months, so why let this chance slip right through your fingers as well?

“Great,” Jungkook said once he got under the covers and lay down next to you. He seemed nervous and you weren’t used to seeing the great Jungkook lacking confidence, but it was apparent from the way he chuckled skittishly and instantly felt the need to explain himself. “Fuck!” He scoffed before chuckling and the sound brought you back to the summer and all the nights you’d spent together at the pavilion. “My heart is beating so loud I can hear it.”

“Relax, Jungkook,” you turned on your side so you could face him. You hadn’t been that close to him in a long time and you’d only slept next to each other once before, even though that time was so hard to forget. So, you wanted to make the most out of it and help Jungkook calm down and live in the moment because it was, quite frankly, all you two had. “It’s all good now.”

“It is,” he nodded, sneaking a glance at you, but preferring to stare at the ceiling. “Hey, listen… What I said earlier… Do you want to sleep with me?”

A tinge of excitement ran down your spine, but you knew it wasn’t something you should act on, even if the guy you were pining over was right next to you, half-naked, wanting you, and he happened to be the same guy who wrote love songs about you and wanted you to hear him sing them live so you’d know he meant it. He was everything you wanted except this one flaw that you just couldn’t look past. It seemed like life was playing a huge joke on you. You had everything you wanted, literally, except Jungkook.

“Jungkook…” You let your voice trail off, remembering that you’d just discussed it earlier and that you shouldn’t have to explain yourself twice. If this was his way of trying to get you to give in and sleep with him, it wasn’t going to work—it would only help him get kicked out.

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” Jungkook raised both hands and pushed them forward and backward a couple of times, as if he was trying to slow you down when he was the nervous one here. “I know how you feel about it, we’ve discussed it, it’s not happening—all good! What I meant is, do you want it?” He chuckled nervously, shaking his head before sneaking a glance at you again. “I am an idiot, I can’t even express a question right. I just want to know if I’m alone in feeling this way, is what I mean.”

“What way?”

“Wanting you,” he gulped loudly, his eyes now fixated on your lips, his breath fanning your face since Jungkook didn’t feel the need to face the ceiling again. “In every way possible. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not happening, and this is not me trying to talk you into it. It’s just for my own curiosity, I guess. To make me feel better, to let me know it’s not all in my head.”

“I do,” you admitted, not wanting to make him feel terrible. You could have easily pretended that you’ve never even thought about it, but you have. It was hard not to, considering how good-looking Jungkook was and how well he moved. That paired with his singing would make anyone have dirty thoughts about him, let alone you who’d been on the receiving end of his compliments and flirting during the summer, who’d gotten to kiss him and feel his touch. “It’s not just you. I know that won’t make you feel better, because it doesn’t make me feel better to know you feel the same way.”

“It kind of does, though,” Jungkook grinned at you, suddenly seeming a lot happier than he did earlier. “It means there’s hope. We haven’t been alone together in months, haven’t even had a real conversation, and we’re still… Into each other. That’s a good sign.”

You shrugged, not really thinking of it as something positive—it just meant it would take even more months to get over him, maybe even years. It was difficult to forget Jungkook when you cared about him. Knowing he felt the same felt even worse because what Andre had said was right, it would be extremely difficult for you two to keep a thing alive even if drugs weren’t involved in the equation.

“You don’t think so?” Jungkook asked, throwing the ball in your court.

“It’s not that I don’t think so,” you started in a serious tone, which instantly wiped the smile off of his face. “It’s that it’s just not good for us. You don’t seem happy at all. Honestly, you only seem happy when you’re high. And I’ve become grumpy and closed off. That’s what liking each other got us.”

“No,” Jungkook propped himself up on his elbow, suddenly towering over you, strands of hair falling over the side of his face. “That’s what caring about our images got us. What liking each other got us was some great music on both ends, an amazing work relationship that helped both of our writing processes, it got us a lifelong friendship, at least, and I got to understand that I’m not as much of a lost cause as I thought I was.”

That’s where Jungkook stopped to look at your face, taking every single detail in, it seemed. You didn't move an inch. Instead, you lay there and enjoyed the view, finally looking straight into Jungkook’s eyes. Warmth took over your body and it felt like you couldn’t and didn’t even want to move away.

“What I feel for you... I’ve never felt it before. I’ve never thought about a girl twice,” Jungkook shook his head again. “That’s not something to brag about, but I don’t know how else to say it. I thought I just never would, not unless I quit this job and settled down, which just sounded depressing. This life was all I ever wanted, and now that I have it, it’s not really all that. Well, it used to be. Now you’re all I think about, even when I’m not trying to. And I know that you care about me too, even though you don’t want to say it out loud, but I feel it, so it makes me think I can’t be that terrible of a person if someone like you can care about me, which makes me want to be better,” Jungkook said with a sigh and his warm breath fanned your face, making you want to kiss him and do anything you could just to get him to stop talking.

You didn’t want him to say the words out loud, you didn’t want him to call you out out loud and make you face what you were feeling, but you couldn’t move or say a thing, so you let Jungkook go on.

“I don’t want to keep letting everyone around me down. Maybe I fail from time to time, but I think most people do. I’m at least trying now. I drink from time to time, sure, but I’m a peaceful, loving type of drunk. I drank tonight and I didn’t do anything stupid,” Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up and looked at you questioningly.

“Other than coming to my room at 3 am,” you joked, which made Jungkook laugh, his eyes warm as they looked down at your face.

Your comment was a deflection from everything else he’s said, but these things weren’t new to you. Yes, they were beautiful, they tugged at your heartstrings, and made you never want to let Jungkook go, but you both knew all of that already, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

“That was the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” Jungkook said in all seriousness, making your chuckle die down. You wanted to kiss him at that moment, wrap your arms around him, agree with him, tell him he should never leave, but that would only hurt you both—Jungkook had to leave the first thing in the morning. “I know, it sounds like I’m exaggerating, but when you came to our concert and looked at me that way, I felt like shit. I saw how disappointed you were. You didn’t mention it, you didn’t lecture me, but I know that look. Not trying to make any comparisons here, but it’s the way my mom looks at me when I fuck up, so you know I’ve gotten quite a number of those looks over the years. I knew I fucked up then, and I’ve felt like a fuck up every time I’ve stumbled since then. And I felt like you were over me already, if I’m honest. You didn’t text me once, only in response to my texts. You seemed to be doing great on your own, you looked so happy in all your interviews and I did feel happy for you, but at the same time it felt like you just forgot about it, especially after you returned the tickets.”

“Jungkook… I returned the tickets because I was scared of seeing you wasted like that again,” you admitted, hoping it wouldn’t offend him since that was not your intention. You didn’t want to hurt him in any way. “I’ve been trying to get over it but, clearly, I’m failing. So I thought seeing you would just make things worse.”

“Did it?” Jungkook asked, cocking an eyebrow up, his face seeming sad. You understood how he felt: you didn’t want your words or actions to hurt him, either.

“No,” you admitted. “Weirdly enough, I feel happy.”

“Me too,” he threw himself back on the bed and sighed. “Why can’t we give it a shot then? If we make each other happy? If we feel like shit when we don’t get to talk to or see each other?”

“Andre and my company would implode,” you stated the first and most obvious reason. “We’d be picked apart, everything about us would. You would use and I would feel like shit, and it would just hurt us both even more.”

“Well, you’re not your company, right?” Jungkook asked you and then went on to explain himself. “You keep talking in a way that makes it seem like there’s nothing out there other than the company. They can drop us whenever they want, and we can always find something else. The company is not everything. It may seem that way now, but look at Kyubok, he’s out there under another company doing what he loves. Maybe you shouldn’t worry about them as much.”

“Yeah, Jungkook, that sounds great, maybe we can get together once I’m dropped by my company somewhere down the line,” you muttered the words at him, instantly regretting them when you noticed his frown. “Sorry… I just, ah… I’m frustrated. I get what you mean, I am not my company, but I’m under a contract and they let me do what I love doing. This career makes me happy. You make me happy too, when you’re behaving. So in the end, it’s not about the company.”

“I see,” Jungkook nodded and took a couple of moments to think about it. “I get it. It just sucks that I’m the thing that’s in the way of us being happy.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that,” you pointed out, not wanting to make him feel like shit. There were two of you there and you both had a say in it. “It’s just the circumstances. If we were back home without all this company stuff, when all eyes wouldn’t be on us, I think it could work. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like drugs were a way out then.”

“I no longer feel that way,” Jungkook said firmly, and his tone changed to a more serious one. “I know it sounds ridiculous and desperate, but I don’t. If I did, I’d be high out of my mind now and every day before this one, like almost everyone around me. I don’t get high whenever I feel like shit about something. The opening night… It was just a tradition. Not just mine, the band’s. It was stupid, but I didn’t do anything crazy. I got high, performed well, and then I hoped I’d get to see you and spend time with you. That didn’t happen, I went out, but I behaved. So if that’s the thing you’re worrying about, don’t.”

“Jungkook,” you placed your hand on his naked chest, rubbing it gently, feeling him get goosebumps as you dragged your fingers across his skin. “I’m happy to hear that and I hope you keep doing that. It’s not something that happens in a month or two of five. It’s a great beginning, but let’s see how it plays out, huh?”

Jungkook chewed on the inside of his cheek and you watched his eyebrows furrow as he thought about something. “It feels like you don’t want me to succeed because you’d then have to admit that you just don’t want this.”

“That’s not true,” you said with a sigh, a part of you starting to wonder if there was a chance that Jungkook was right. “If we get together, it… It needs to work. It can’t fail. It would be too… Sad if it failed.”

Jungkook nodded, his breath fanning over your face, his hand moving towards your head slowly so could hook a lock of your hair behind your ear, looking right at you warmly, so much so that it made you feel like you were melting—safe and sound, next to him.

“It will,” he said finally, smiling so sadly that it made you wince. “Someday, somehow, it has to work. What’s the point of feeling this way otherwise? If it’s not meant to be, why would we both be stuck on it?”

“You take care of yourself first,” you patted his chest, hoping your response wouldn’t be as disappointing as it was to you. “And then we can talk about it.”

Jungkook didn’t seem happy with your response, but he couldn’t do much about it. He wasn’t the type to push, you knew that. So, you lay there in silence, listening to each other’s breathing, so close to each other yet feeling like you were worlds apart.

“Do you think that will ever happen?” Jungkook spoke up after what seemed like hours of silence. “Us talking about it?”

“I don’t want to say no,” you admitted in all honesty. You didn’t want to say no—you truly wanted to believe he was going to stay away from drugs and the type of lifestyle that made him feel worse. “I really hope we will.”

Jungkook sighed deeply. “Is it… Is it okay for me to hug you?”

“Sure,” you responded without thinking of the consequences.

As soon as you scooted over so Jungkook could pull you onto his chest so you could rest your head on him, you realized you’d made a mistake. You’d never want to let him go this way, not once you felt his skin against yours, the warmth of his body under you, his hands holding you tight, his chin resting against the top of your head as he pulled you into his frame.

“This feels really nice,” Jungkook said out of the blue, sighing. “A lot better than I thought it would.”

“The hug?” You asked, unsure of what exactly he meant. It all felt great to you and you never wanted it to end. If there was a way for you two to stay locked up in your hotel bedroom, you’d use it.

“You,” he said with a chuckle, now sounding a lot lighter than earlier, like someone had taken a weight off his shoulders and he could be himself again. “Us talking. Us being close to each other, hugging… I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“Jungkook,” you said, sighing. Why did everything have to be so hard? You wanted to stay there with him forever but it wasn’t real, and you both knew it. You felt the same way, but you didn’t want to encourage him to feel this way because it would only prolong his and your suffering.

“I know, I know,” he nodded, rubbing your forearm for a couple of seconds. “I’m just being honest with you. You’re the only person I can share this with.”

Humming in agreement seemed to put an end to the conversation, until Jungkook decided to tilt your chin up with his fingers, making you face him. The look in his eyes gave away his sadness, but he also seemed really calm and peaceful, like back then. In fact, he looked the same as he always did to you—happy to be with you.

You swallowed loudly, feeling the tension in the air as you two stared into each other’s eyes. His eyes, his cheeks, his mouth, everything was pulling you in closer and making you want to have a taste of him, hold him, kiss him, touch him, have him, and you were sure he felt the same way. His eyes gave him away.

“Just one?” He spoke gently, quietly, so much as that his words were barely audible and it sounded like he was whispering. The raised eyebrow told you he was waiting for your consent or it wouldn’t be happening.

“One,” you agreed and let Jungkook kiss you.

Gentle as always, he pressed his soft lips against yours for a couple of seconds, allowing you to breathe in the familiar, warm scent of his skin and remember how good it felt to have him that close. After that, Jungkook pulled away, but you leaned in, deciding that one kiss just wasn’t enough.

If this was goodbye, you could at least kiss him as much as you wanted to. There was no going back anyway. To help you gain better access to his mouth, Jungkook turned to his side a bit and kissed you again, this time running his tongue across your bottom lip, which instantly got you to open your mouth and let his tongue in.

Jungkook grunted as he felt your tongues touch, the warm feeling spreading from your mouth down to your crotch, waking up a long forgotten urge inside of you. He was here, he was real, and you both wanted each other. In fact, you were both desperate to have one another.

Jungkook’s hand moved up to your face and he cupped it, pulling you in closer. His tongue left your mouth and Jungkook pulled away to get a good look at you.

“You are really the best thing that’s happened to me,” he said without hesitation, staring right into your eyes as his thumb slowly moved across your cheek, comforting you, as if he could sense you really needed to be comforted too. “I don’t want to fuck up, I’m so scared of it, but even if I do, know that what I’m saying is true.”

“I know,” you nodded, closing your eyes for a second. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

You were saying those words to comfort yourself more than you were saying them to Jungkook, but he didn’t feel that way. “When you say it, it sounds so simple.”

You nodded and chuckled, realizing it was stupid. Whatever you said wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship, or whatever it was, but you could pretend, at least tonight. “I know it’s really not,” you admitted. “I’m sorry I can’t really help you with anything.”

“Hey, you don’t have to help me,” Jungkook shook his head and hooked a strand of your hair behind your ear before continuing to caress your cheek. “That’s not why you’re here. It’s not your responsibility. You know Ted made sure I understand that.”

The idea of Jungkook talking about you to Ted and Ted reminding him of this made you laugh, so Jungkook laughed too.

“I love seeing you happy,” he said through laughter. “You’re always pretty, but when you laugh from the heart like that, you become the most gorgeous person I’ve met. You know, I really wish we could just drop all of this and go back home and get a place up in the woods and live a quiet life together. But then I remember who we are and what we do. But it’s nice to live in that fantasy for a while.”

“It does sound nice,” you admitted, even though you knew you shouldn’t have said anything that could lead Jungkook on. However, the thought of you two living together far away from everyone else, the media, the nasty online trolls, your companies… The thought was really something else.

“Do you think—?” Jungkook started asking a question, but then stopped himself and scoffed. “This is going to sound so stupid because it’s not something you can even answer, I think. But I’ve wondered about it a lot. Do you think you could be happy with me?”

You cleared your throat, unsure of how to respond to the question. Theoretically? Yes. You were happy with him right then. But, out in the real world, with his vices? Probably not. You didn’t want to hurt Jungkook, though.

“Why are you thinking about that?” You asked, completely deflecting.

“I spend a lot of time thinking about life in general,” he said with a shrug. “About what could have been, what could be, what will be… And I just wonder, even if I do change and stay clean, would I be able to make someone like you happy? Like, am I really the kind of guy who could give you what you want?”

“I don’t want much,” you simply replied. “I have everything money can buy, so I wouldn’t want anything like that.”

“But you’d want someone caring,” Jungkook said. “Someone who’s good with feelings and words. A guy who takes sex seriously? Yeah, I think so. You want to be the only one, and you deserve that. Someone who can take care of you… Not in the material sense, you’ve got that covered.”

“And you’re not that guy?” You couldn’t help but ask, even though you knew you were just playing with fire asking questions like that. Jungkook could be a guy like that, you knew it. Or could he? Would he always have to have someone on the side? Or not even on the side, just some random woman he saw that night because that’s how he functioned, that’s how he’d always functioned.

“I hope I am,” he said after a long sigh. “I want to be. I don’t think much about sex, it’s something to do to fulfill a need. Mostly, I do it so I don't feel alone. But I never feel alone around you and we’ve never touched each other that way, so it’s not about sex at all.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Once again, you felt the same way about this topic. You felt closer to Jungkook than any boyfriend you’d ever had, even though you two had only kissed. Intimacy wasn’t just about sex, you learned through this thing with him.

“Then work on being that guy, but not for me,” you suggested. “Be that for yourself.”

Jungkook nodded, looking away for a couple of seconds. “You sound just like Ted.”

You had nothing smart to say to that, so you cupped his cheek, which made Jungkook look into your eyes again. “It will be alright. Somehow. Someday. We may get there.”

Jungkook gulped, clearly not buying it, before he sighed deeply and leaned in for another kiss, which you gladly accepted. This time, neither of you pulled away. In fact, Jungkook pulled you in closer, pressing his body against yours, pulling you into his frame even closer, so close you could feel him all over you, his tongue inside of your mouth, his hands around you, in your hair, on your face, but never crossing the line.

At a certain point, you wanted him to cross the line. To be honest, you wished for it. You kept telling yourself if he lowered his hand and touched you sexually, you wouldn’t protest. You’d consent and get to feel him finally, but Jungkook never did that. He respected what you’d once told him and never acted like he wanted more from you than just a kiss.

Then, you felt him get erect right against your stomach, which instantly made him pull away and kick his head back, groaning in frustration. “I’m really sorry,” he said, looking away before licking his lips. “I’m just a guy and you’re very attractive.”

“It’s okay,” you said, nodding, but you pulled away, understanding that it would be a mistake, even though you wanted to feel him. Just feeling his erection press against you was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together to get some sort of friction and ease the tension. “Maybe we should… Chill out.”

Jungkook nodded and moved away. “My bad,” he admitted. “I got carried away.”

“I did too,” you wanted to share the blame since it really wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. If anything, you wanted him just as much. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep?”

A while later, you found yourself in his arms, drifting in and out of sleep. While his warm embrace made it a lot easier for you to fall asleep, the fact that he was right there next to you made your heart beat faster whenever you thought of it. Jungkook was right there with you after all that time.

As if he sensed you were on the brink of falling asleep, Jungkook started to play with your hair by running his fingers through it slowly, gently, and humming a tune you’d never heard before.

Was it a new song? Something he’d give to Puddle of Love? You didn’t know, but you enjoyed listening to him sing, so much so that it made you fall asleep.

[link to song]

I feel it, the night will fall And heart will curse the darkness The rain will pass us by I sense a magical sign. Everything will pass...

The sky smells like a flower Sad is the flight of doves It smells like a purple day You and I will trample on sleep.

Touch me, take away the pain This lie ails me The stars are against us And nothing here, nothing, has charm.

Jungkook stayed for a quick breakfast with you and you appreciated the gesture—it felt just like it did back at the villa, even though you couldn’t relax as much knowing he only had minutes to spend with you before leaving the country to tour the world.

You walked Jungkook out, both of you hesitating when you reached the door, unsure of what to say or do. Jungkook didn’t think about it too long and he acted instead, wrapping his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You take care, okay? Call me… if you need to talk or anything,” he cleared his throat and stepped back, scratching the side of his head. “It was so nice seeing you. Peaceful, even.”

“It really was,” you agreed readily, sad to have to let him go, again. “It’s always nice seeing you and spending time together. Please, be safe. Call me if you’re feeling down.”

“Only then?” Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up, his eyes suddenly drooping with what you could only describe as disappointment.

“Isn’t that better for both of us?” You exhaled deeply, suddenly too hurt to look into his eyes. You’d just see how much pain Jungkook was in and it would hurt too much, knowing you were letting him down again. But, it was a choice between letting him or yourself down, and you had to choose yourself, even if it didn’t feel like the right decision.

“You’re right,” Jungkook nodded, stepping outside to the hallway. “It’s better not to stay in touch often. We’ve said it all.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you to stare at his back as he walked away. You stayed there for a while after Jungkook was gone, wondering if you were making a huge mistake, if you were doing something you’d regret, something that brought a lot more pain than the alternative would. Somber, you closed the door, hoping the feeling in your chest would go away soon.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After the short rendezvous with Jungkook in your hotel suite, you started getting involved with your own music and commitments more, burying yourself with work. Your mind was taking every chance it got to think about the way you two said goodbye, so you kept it preoccupied with other things most of the time.

It didn’t feel right, the way you left things off. You didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt, again, and you didn’t see the point in it. But, you could tell that your silence hurt him. He opened his heart to you and told you everything he felt for you, and all you could do was tell him it wouldn’t work because of him. That must have sucked for Jungkook.

You couldn’t change anything about it, so you avoided any kind of news regarding Puddle of Love and steered clear of social media in general while on tour. Sure, there were always wonderful and supportive comments out there and people were generally nice, but somehow, there had to be a negative comment or two under everything. It’s just how the world works.

Since you were touring as well, you didn’t want to hear people talk badly about you.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was clear to everyone that the summer had changed you—you became more quiet, more introverted, always longing for some alone-time, passing out on invites to go grab a drink or dinner with some of the staff or the band that played with you at concerts, doing the same to Andre. Not many people knew why, but you did, even if you tried to deny it.

Jungkook changed you.

He made you understand how good it felt to have someone close, someone you could talk to about the deepest of things without the fear of them using you for something, even being able to talk about anything that came to mind. You never had someone you felt that close to before, someone who was willing to listen without judgment, someone you could be honest with.

It felt like there was no tiptoeing around stuff when it came to the two of you. You could both be brutally honest with each other, which is why you valued the friendship so much and only hoped it would someday grow into something more.

Jungkook made you understand what it meant not to be alone, finally, and then you had to give it all up. That part on its own was excruciating as it is. The album with two songs literally dedicated to you was just a bonus that made you wallow in self-pity over losing the man you’d never even had to begin with.

Due to all of that, you were becoming more sensitive in general, always trying to avoid confrontation and negativity, not wanting to argue, letting people have their way.

That’s why social media wasn’t the thing for you that winter—you didn’t want to read what people had to say about you when you felt like you were dealing with a loss. Clearly, hearing terrible things about yourself wouldn’t help, just like seeing criticism of Jungkook’s behavior wouldn’t either.

You told yourself you shouldn’t watch the live footage from their concerts, the short clips of Jungkook with his fans, some reporters, or random women as it wouldn’t do any good. Much like yours, the comments were supportive, but there were always people who had to compare Jungkook to Kyubok, who had to judge him for who he was, who felt the need to tell him Puddle of Love were better off without him, and similar things that just enraged you.

When these people messaged you saying those things, it didn't hurt as much. After all, you could never imagine being so wrapped up in rage that you’d tell another person such horrid things, so you always thought that whoever felt the need to write such disgusting things was probably a very lonely and sad person. Their opinions couldn’t hurt you.

However, when they talked about Jungkook that way, you did feel upset. You couldn’t help it, not when these people didn’t know the first thing about him and have never even talked to him, but felt the need to tell him the world would be a better place without him. That was such cruel bullshit and you hoped Jungkook would never read anything like that about himself. These people had no respect for others.

Had they known what kind of heavy things Jungkook was dealing with behind the scenes, they would have treated him a lot differently. Sadly, almost no one knew, which is why he was often met with tough criticism, even from his bandmates.

Still, despite steering clear from social media and Puddle of Love in general, one day you caught a glimpse of Jungkook on TV and couldn’t look away. You heard only a couple of words of the interview, but it intrigued you so much that you had to search for the video on Youtube as you wondered what Jungkook was saying.

The reporter was backstage after a concert of theirs, and she seemed to be talking to the members as they walked past her, making their way from the stage to the dressing rooms, all in a great mood and ready to talk, which wasn’t that surprising after a concert.

The reporter greeted Jungkook who seemed extremely happy to see her and greeted her like they were friends, accepting and thanking her for the compliments on their performance. This behavior was nothing new for Jungkook—he always got a bit too friendly with reporters.

Jungkook wrapped his arm around the female reporter’s shoulder and grinned at her, acting like they were lifelong friends, like they were close, even though you thought this was the first time they were seeing each other.

“So, Jungkook, how do you feel? This is your first time selling out Wembley, it must feel grand!” She asked him with a grin on her face, seeming as excited as he was. “Puddle of Love have done it before, but this is your first time doing it.”

“I feel fucking great!” Jungkook almost shouted, giggling right after and you hoped he was as happy as he seemed. It felt good to see him look so happy because he really did deserve it, no matter what. “It’s such a great feeling! A while ago, I was a vocalist of a small town band that disbanded, and nobody knew who I was, and now I’m here, performing at a sold-out Wembley. Of course, it’s all thanks to our fans who came to see us play, thank you all for the support! The atmosphere tonight was mind blowing. Thanks to everyone who came, to all those who wanted to come but couldn’t. I love you!”

Jungkook smiled at the camera warmly while the interviewer continued with the questions. “That's because the album was so brilliant, everyone's dying to watch you perform live! Your hashtag has been active non stop, ever since the album came out, people just love it. It's filled to the brim with emotions and tensions. A wonderful album! I’d be surprised if it doesn’t win any awards, honestly.“

“Wow, thank you, we worked hard on it,” Jungkook nodded, his eyes full of gratitude—that couldn’t be faked. If there was anything Jungkook truly cared for, it was his music.

“This time, you worked on the lyrics to a lot of the songs on this album, a lot more than the first one. These ones are actually quite different from Puddle of Love’s usual stuff in the sense that they are darker, more personal, and fans seem to be eating it up. What inspired you?”

“Hey, what's your name?” Jungkook asked her, the question surprising her as much as the viewers, you were sure. You weren’t certain where he was going with this, but you were dying to know. You hoped Jungkook wouldn’t embarrass himself or cause a scene that Kijung would have to fix.

“It’s Donna,” she smiled at him, clearly enjoying his attention, even though it was a professional situation. You couldn’t blame her, his smile was hard to resist. You caught yourself wondering what he’d been up to since you’d last seen him, which was weeks ago at that point.

“Well Donna, you know when you're in the place we're in, it's so easy to share happiness with others,” Jungkook looked at her until she nodded, which he took as a sign for him to go on. “When, let’s say, I'm happy, I talk to you and tell you about it, I post on my Instagram and share it with everyone who's following, I walk outside my apartment, see fans and tell them, I post it on YouTube. What I mean is, I can tell anyone. So that's a good thing about being where Puddle of Love is,” Jungkook said with a grin and then smiled at the camera before looking at Donna again.

“But, when it gets bad, we can't really share it with a lot of people. I don't feel like sharing it with anyone, can’t be letting the fans down, can't let reporters scoop some blood, no offense. And all the friends you think you have because they're there when it's good? They're not there. Nobody is,” Jungkook kept saying these things with a grin plastered across his face and the reporter’s face changed from excited to worried about him, but he kept going.

It felt a bit surreal to watch Jungkook talk about things that were so personal and upsetting with a smile on his face. In fact, it felt weird hearing him talk about something so personal at all, especially so publicly.

“I always felt like it was important to find someone I can share the bad things with. The deep personal things, the stuff that hurts and bothers me. You know what I mean?” Donna nodded eagerly, too taken aback to speak, completely losing focus and forgetting about asking questions. “Because that's what really matters. Everyone loves you when you're happy, almost no one does when you're down. And you want to know what is behind this album? Finding the person you can share it all with and realizing you're not good enough for them.”

Your mouth dropped when you heard the last line, much like Donna’s. The statement was a real confession of what happened between the two of you and you would have never thought he’d come out and say something like this. What would Kijung say to this? What would his fans think? With that, Jungkook let Donna go, thanked her for the interview and left after grinning at the camera one more time and telling his fans he loved them.

Hearing him say that made you happy in some wicked sort of way because it meant he was still thinking about you. He couldn’t have been thinking about someone else when he said it, you were sure. Still, it also meant Jungkook was clearly suffering, and you didn’t feel happy about that, because what kind of a person would?

Jungkook thought he wasn’t good enough for you and that wasn’t even close to the truth. It wasn’t about who was good for whom, it was about compromise. You two just couldn’t find common ground when it came to drugs, and that was it. It had nothing to do with Jungkook being less worthy than you in any sense of the way.

Did he really think he was not good for you? That was not what this whole thing was about, it wasn’t a question who was better, it was a question of him doing drugs occasionally and you not being able to accept it.

People would rip Jungkook apart for saying this, you were sure. It wasn’t a statement that could just be forgotten. People would want to know more. He was a vocalist loved by many, outwardly seeming like a man with many friends, a large part of which were other celebrities, and him saying that his friends left when he needed them would surely cause drama and commotion. A statement like that meant it was field day for anyone who thought they could write and that their opinion mattered online.

As expected, the headlines were all about him and this interview, even though some places did mention how great of a concert it was and how they filled Wembley. Jungkook once again stole the spotlight from the band and their amazing performance, which you felt would get him into hot water with the band and Kijung.

Jungkook has fake friends and feels lonely!?

Puddle of Love’s Jungkook found the one

Who is Jungkook’s mystery girl? We bring you the 10 possible options—you’d never guess number seven!

Puddle of Love’s friendship is fake?

Is Jungkook’s last night interview a cry for help?

A psychologist comments on Jungkook’s mental state

Even reading the titles felt wrong. These “reporters” were so off, and they were running with any type of story they felt would entice people to read. It was all bullshit and it wasn’t based on reality at all, but Jungkook gave a statement and they ran with it, not bothering to make it factual. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to correct them, so they felt they could say whatever they wanted.

The comment sections on all the videos about the interview and all the articles were about the same things—who was this person Jungkook wasn’t “good enough” for, who were his fake friends, was Jungkook suffering, his fans wanted him to feel better soon. You were glad to see people supporting him, but you hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble by saying the things he’d said.

You wanted to text Jungkook, but you’d promised each other you’d stay away since keeping in touch hurt even more. Talking, but not being together, being on the opposite sides of the world, not being able to spend time with one another, you constantly worrying over his well-being… All of it was a burden.

Maybe you texting Jungkook would have the opposite effect on him and would cause him to feel even worse. No, it would be better if you stayed away.

If Jungkook needed you, he’d call or text, that’s what you agreed on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────