Moonleeai

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, November 13th

You lie with your head against Jungkook’s chest, his heartbeat a steady melody in your ear. It’s almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it’s still early, and tonight is the last night you have with him. You’re watching a movie in your hotel room, lying in bed scarcely dressed, yet you can’t focus on the movie.

The clock is ticking, and dread has been slowly taking over you, so thoroughly you barely talked today. Jungkook doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are, and he’s held you all day as you spent it in bed.

Earlier this week, you went to stay at his house for a while. But it was hard, even though people don’t show up at his door like they used to before. The proximity of the alley made you uneasy, until you found out that they tore down the whole alley to make room for a new condominium complex.

The place your assault took place doesn’t exist anymore. Like the assault never happened anyway, like it happened in an alternate universe, and it’s strangely catatonic. You’d imagined you’d feel cathartic about it, but you just don’t feel… anything. Truth be told, you’ve never really felt anything about the assault in and of itself. It always was like it happened to someone else.

The only thing that lingered for a while was your uneasiness when it came to being with Jungkook, and so you’ve given yourself a week to experience how it feels to be with him. But you haven’t really gone outside, and no rumors sparked about you and him. No one knows that you’re with him, and so the uneasiness feels distant.

Yet, you’re aware it will come back to slap you in the face if you do try to make things work with Jungkook. And maybe that’s why you’ve been dreading tomorrow. Indeed, you’ve been dreading the end that’s been drawing itself for you and Jeon Jungkook, despite the idyllic moments you’ve shared all week.

It makes it so much harder that he’s been everything you’ve always dreamed of in a relationship this week, taking care of you better than anyone ever has. He cooked for you again when you were at his house, he holds you every night as you fall asleep, he lets you talk for hours about your ideas for the fantasy book without interrupting, letting you bounce from one thing to the other like it’s not annoying… He washes your hair, washes your back and most of all, he makes love to you like no one has before.

He’s a dream in the form of a man. And this week, you’ve allowed yourself to believe he’s yours. From this moment on to the end of line. But though you’ve always been a hopeless romantic, one thing your assault did do to you is turn you into someone realistic.

And a relationship with Jungkook is not sustainable. Not with the distance. Not with what happened the last time you were in a relationship with him, even though you never called it what it was. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself all week. Every moment of every day, you’ve just been trying to commit everything to memory. To write it all down in the pages of your mind, to revisit when you’re gone.

When you’re back home, on the other side of the world. Because you can’t risk being with him again. Not when you almost died the first time.

Your heart strains in your chest, and you shut your eyes, nuzzling your face in Jungkook’s neck. He wraps his arm around you tighter, kissing your forehead.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, but it’s weak. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

There’s a long silence, and then he says, “I know.”

You search for words to say, for how to tell him that you’re scared. That you know you’re about to break the two of you again, and you feel horrible for it.

It’s been more than a year. Last Wednesday, you spent the day at Jungkook’s house, remembering how it ended three-hundred-and-sixty-five days ago. And you don’t think you have it in you to risk everything again. Even if that means losing him. 

You’re all over the place. Unable to focus on one thing or the other, because you’re terrified, yes, and despite everything, you don’t want to lose him either. It makes it hard for you to figure out what to say, and Jungkook must sense that you’re struggling, because he speaks up in a gentle tone.

“It doesn’t have to end there, you know?” he says. “We could try to make it work.”

You trace a circle on the skin of his chest, trying to focus on him. On this precious moment before the bomb drops, where the world holds its breath hoping destruction won’t come. 

But destruction always comes. Everything is meant to be broken, after all.

“I don’t think we should,” you reply.

You think you hear Jungkook’s heartbeat quickening. It starts hammering in your ear, a physiological response to the words you just said.

“Why not?”

“I genuinely do not want to do long distance.”

It’s not just that, but you can’t bring yourself to say the full truth, yet. Like it’ll make it all worse, all so much realer.

Jungkook shifts, his arm falling from around you. But you lay your hand flat on him, trying to keep him from getting away.

“Then what was this week for?” he asks as he stops moving.

It’s bitter. So bitter you can taste it on your tongue.

“I just wanted us to enjoy each other’s company before I leave,” you say. “We never got to spend time like this together.”

“So it has to end?” He chuckles. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Even if it’s the last thing you want to do, you sit up, meeting his gaze. “Jungkook, you can’t tell me you want to do long distance.”

His eyes shine, unshed tears collecting on his waterline. “I’d do anything for you, Y/n. I don’t care about the distance.”

You close your eyes again as a lump forms in your throat. It’s big enough to choke you up, and breathing gets hard. The air that does get to your lungs burns, and you wish the universe would be kinder to you and Jeon Jungkook.

Haven’t you gone through enough?

“But I do,” you whisper. “I don’t want to do the distance, Jungkook.”

“I’ll move to where you live, then.” He says it with so much determination you allow yourself to believe it for a few seconds.

When those seconds pass, your eyes flutter open, and you meet his gaze once more. There’s a tear on his cheek, but he does nothing to dry it. So you reach forward, wiping it for him.

“You’d give up your whole life here to move to America?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

But from the way more tears escape his eyes, you know he’s also realizing that it’s not possible.

He can’t leave his group and his company. He has responsibilities here in Seoul, and you have responsibilities back home. You could try long distance, that’s for sure, but…

But you don’t have it in you. Not when you know you’d be miserable.

You might be miserable regardless, but at least you had this week to get ready for the rest of your life without him.

“Please, Y/n,” he whispers.

You’re crying too. You wish you weren’t, wish you could be strong tonight but…

But you aren’t. You’re breaking, but you’re breaking together with him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Jungkook, you can’t move out of Seoul, and I can’t move here…”

“But you could,” he says, frowning. He wipes his cheek angrily. “You were here for a long time before.”

“I was on a visa, and I can’t get the same visa again.”

“We can figure it out.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook.”

He pushes his hair back. “Don’t run away from me again, Y/n.” He holds your gaze despite the fact that you’re both crying, and his features are blurry. “Don’t.”

You can’t look away. In truth, it would likely be possible for you to move here. But…

But you’re terrified at the idea of it. Of leaving behind your agent and your family, for good this time. You know you had a life here, a life you put on pause when you went back home and could just resume but…

What if the trauma sneaks up on you while you’re here, though? What if it’s just waiting for you to get comfortable before it comes up to you, ruining the progress you’ve made since last year? More than that, what if his fans get enough of you again when they find out you’re dating once more, and you get killed this time?

Though you don’t remember the assault, and though you mostly feel catatonic about everything surrounding it, fear lingers. Being with Jungkook causes that fear. Or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

“It’s not about running away, Jungkook,” you gently say. Your heart reaches for his, and you think it finds it. You wrap it in a warm embrace, and you add, “The last time we were together, I almost died. I can’t live with the fear that it might happen again.”

There it is. The truth. The one where you stop pretending that it’s about the distance. Because in the end, you know the distance doesn’t really matter. You know you and Jungkook would figure it out. But the fear… you’re not quite sure you can live with it. Not when it could trigger the trauma.

So the truth drops like a bomb on the bed between you and Jungkook, and you wait for the shockwave to destroy everything on its passage. You wait and wait… But it never comes. No. There’s a calm silence instead, and Jungkook melts, pulling you to his chest. He holds you tight, presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“I understand,” he says softly as he rocks you from side to side ever so gently. “But…” he trails off, and you hear him gulp. “People don’t come anymore,” he whispers. “And I could also move into an apartment in a safer building. Then you wouldn’t have to be scared.”

You imagine it. You imagine building a home with him here, and it’s so beautiful you cry even harder.

“But the danger will always be there,” you point out as tears keep pouring out of your eyes. “Whenever I step outside, I’d be in danger.”

“I’ll protect you,” he promises. “Always.”

You chuckle, but it’s sorrowful, broken. “I know you would.”

He stops rocking you from side to side, instead rubbing your back soothingly as he holds you even closer. You hide your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “I could get you a dog,” he suggests after a few moments of silence. “A Doberman or something. To help you feel safer.”

“I’ve always wanted to have a dog,” you admit, and your crying recedes, replaced by curiosity at this utopia he’s building for you and him.

“Then you’d get a dog.” His arms tighten around you, and he leans his chin on top of your head. “We’d move to a safer place, and I’d beat up whoever approaches you.”

“That sounds excessive,” you say with another chuckle, but it’s not quite as sad this time. “What if it’s a friend?”

“Well, I won’t beat up Jennie or Hyunseok,” he replies. “But I bet they’ll also help make you feel safe.”

“I know they would.”

He pulls back, just enough to glance down at your face. “Let’s try, Y/n. Let’s please give it a try.”

You suddenly become exhausted, looking into his beautiful eyes. There’s so much hope in his gaze and all you can feel is exhaustion. Like the tears that were running down your cheeks a second ago drained all of your energy, replacing it with deep fatigue. 

You don’t have any fight left in you. In truth, you didn’t really have any to begin with. You’d imagined Jungkook would just accept your decision – you don’t know why you didn’t consider the fact that he’d fight for you.

But it makes sense. After everything, it makes sense that Jeon Jungkook would fight for you. It fills your heart with peace, lessening the fear, and you sigh deeply.

“I don’t know,” you let out as you’re still just holding his gaze.

You genuinely don’t. You’ve spent the week trying to gather the courage to tell him you didn’t want to try, and seeing that hope in his eyes takes away the limited amount of strength you’d gathered. 

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he reassures you with a soft smile. “You still have to go home tomorrow after all. But please think about it.”

That you can do. Because, even if you tell him no right now, even if you tell him you don’t want to try, you know your mind will come back to this conversation for the rest of your life. Haunting you with the what if you said yes? What if you gave it a try and it worked? What if the fear stayed at bay, and you managed to finally be with Jungkook, for real this time?

You reckon, after everything you’ve been through, you’d deserve it. You’d deserve a happy ending, but you’re too tired to make a decision right now. 

You need some time.

“Okay,” you let out. “I’ll think about it.” He nods, and tears roll on his cheeks again. You dry them for him, your hands lingering on his face before they fall in the space between you again. “But I genuinely don’t know, Jungkook. I don’t know if I want to move here.”

“That’s okay.” He pulls you closer until you’re resting your head against his chest once more. “It’s a lot to ask for sure. I just want you to think about it.”

“I will,” you whisper. “I promise I will.”

You don’t know how long you hug each other like this. You only know the movie you’ve never paid attention to comes to an end on the TV, the credits rolling as you’re still holding each other, and you do feel at peace with this moment.

With the fact that you’re not ending things right now. Maybe it’s just pushing it back to a later time, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it right now.

Not when you have less than twenty four hours before you’re going home. So when you do eventually pull away from the hug to find that Jungkook’s cheeks have dried on their own, his tears disappeared, you glance at his mouth.

It doesn’t take you much longer than a heartbeat before you’re leaning in, pressing your lips on his. And Jungkook kisses you back desperately, one hand going to the back of your head and the other grabbing your jaw. 

You scared him. You realize you scared the shit out of him as he kisses you like he’s never kissed you before. Like he’s trying to make every swipe of his lips count, in case it’s the last time he gets to kiss you. 

And then he’s kissing down your neck, pausing at your perked nipples on your chest. He worships every inch of skin between your breasts to your pussy, leaving little love bites on the way down. He diverges to your scars, kisses each of them once, and then he keeps on heading down, until he’s breathing a warm breath on your clit after he’s pushed your panties to the side.

It doesn’t take long before your legs are on his shoulders, and your hand is lost in his hair, pulling at the strands as he pushes his tongue into you. You moan, and you grind your hips on his face. He groans against you, and he makes out with you, pulling endless pleasure from you.

He’s good at this. Has always been good at this, and you reckon he’s been made for you.

Jeon Jungkook has to have been made for you.

Then why is the universe so cruel to the two of you?

Jungkook only allows himself to bury his dick in you when you’ve already come twice. And he only does so after having put a condom on, spurting a blob of lube on his dick, too. He’s found out over the week of fucking with condoms on that you get uncomfortable with them, and so he’s been insisting on using an indecent amount of lube.

It works. He’s been able to make you come with just his dick this week, and you really doubt anyone is ever going to make you feel like this again.

Jungkook fucks you slow, his shining gaze never looking away from yours. You get lost in his eyes, much like he gets lost in yours, and you try to ignore the occasional painful beating of your heart in your chest when you consider that you’re almost gone.

Your eyes flutter close when he kisses you then, so languid and deep that you forget you’re leaving at all. And when you open your eyes again, you look at each other with three little words written in your gaze.

You want to tell him. But at the same time, what if you can’t do it in the end? What if you put the weight of those three little words on his shoulders without ever giving yourself to him in the end?

You can’t do that to him. Even after he comes and you just lie in each other’s arms, those three words a loud cry in your head, you still don’t say it. You hold the words back, and so does he. You wonder, is he too haunted by them?

He must be. He has to be. His eyes truly hold the weight of them after all. 

You’re at peace. You’re scared, but you’re also at peace. And though you’re not sure yet what decision you’ll make in the end, you can say that it was all worth it. That spending this week with him was worth everything.

He’ll be the one, or the one that got away. And you really are at peace with it.

Thursday, November 19th

You stare at the words on the screen of your laptop. At the first sentence of this book you’ve finally decided to write, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Unlike Atlas, you’ve been allowed to put the world down, and you close your eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

It’ll all work in the end, won’t it?

Your mother knocks on the doorframe of the office, startling you. Your eyes shoot open, and you look at her as she stands there.

“You need to stop coming downstairs without telling me first,” you tease.

She leans against the doorframe, folding her arms on her chest. “You live in my house, so get used to it.”

You glare at her, but you don’t really mean it. She must see it in your eyes, because she pushes off the doorframe, walking in. She takes a look at your laptop, and a grin splits her face open.

“You’re writing!”

You chuckle. “Yeah, but I was just interrupted.”

She wraps her arms around you, leaning her chin on the top of her head. 

“In a land far, far away eons ago, a young princess jumped off a bridge into the sparkling water of a swirling river,” your mother reads out loud. “You did make her a princess in the end?”

“For now,” you reply. “I feel like it was the best option.”

It was also Jungkook’s pick amongst all of your ideas.

Your mother nods. “I’m so excited about this.” She shakes you from side to side. “It’s going to be a phenomenon.”

“You say that about all of my books,” you say, laughing lightly. 

“And I’m right about it, too!”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the way you’re smiling. 

Your parents’ support has always meant the world to you, after all.

“Dad will love this, too,” your mother adds. “You know he’s a sucker for fantasy.”

“He said he won’t read fantasy anymore because he’s waiting for the rest of Game of Thrones to be released,” you remind her.

“We both know that book is never coming.” She lets go of you, leaning against the desk instead to look at you. “And he reads all of your books. I know he’ll make an exception for you.”

You know he will. In fact, you have no doubt that he will, because your father is like that. He’ll probably talk about it to everyone at the golf range too, and you already know you’ll have to sign books for all of his friends.

He gets more excited about your books than you do, and you love it.

“Hope it doesn’t disappoint, then,” you joke.

Your mother glares down at you. “Your books never disappoint. You know that.”

“Yes, yes.”

She seems unconvinced that you’re being genuine, but she lets it go, instead saying, “Are you having dinner with me tonight? Dad will be out with your uncle, so it’s just me.”

“I will,” you reply. “What time do you want me to come up?”

She glances at the time on your laptop. “In two hours?”

You nod. “Alright. I’ll come up. But let me focus now. I really want to write something for Stella today.”

Your mother claps her hands excitedly. “She will be over the moon.”

She will. She has been slowly pestering you about writing again lately, though you know it’s all in good fun.

You wave your mother goodbye as she starts to walk away, and she looks at you over your shoulder. “Good luck with writing. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, mom.”

In truth, you find you didn’t need any luck. Indeed, it seems that brainstorming with Jungkook last week really worked, because you pound out nearly five thousand words before you have to go up for dinner, setting up the wartorn city.

Hence why the princess had to jump in the water, after all. Indeed, the neighbouring kingdom has invaded, and they killed her father, taking over the throne. Her mother helped her escape, not wanting her daughter to be forced to marry the new king.

It’s a rough draft. You know you’ll have to rework everything to make it work, but you’re excited to be writing again.

You’ve truly healed. More than you realized you had.

You find your mother in the kitchen as she finishes making a sauce to go along with the steak she cooked. She tells you to set the table, and you do so quickly, before helping her with bringing the food over.

“So, how did it go?” your mother asks as you start eating,

Her steak is devilish, and you take a moment to appreciate the taste before you swallow. “It went really well,” you tell her. “I’ll write some more after dinner, and send it all to Stella before bed.”

“That’s amazing.” Your mother takes a sip of water, and then adds, “It must feel good to be writing again.”

You nod. “It does. I thought it would be scary, but it isn’t at all.”

“It’s because you love it,” your mother points out. “You’ve always shone the brightest when you’re writing.”

“Thank you?” you say like a question, unsure if it’s a compliment.

“It’s true!” your mother insists. “I still have the stories you wrote by hand while you were in middle school somewhere. They were the start of a passion.”

“Gosh, I do not ever want to see those,” you admit before taking a bite of the pasta she made along with the steak. The flavours melt on your tongue, and you widen your gaze. “This shit is so good,” you tell your mother once you’ve swallowed.

“It’s a recipe your dad has been bothering me about for a while,” she says. “It got on my nerves, so I made it today because I know he won’t have some.”

“Mom,” you let out before bursting out laughing. “That’s petty.”

“He deserves it.”

You snort, and then the conversation moves to your cousin Chelsea, who just found out she’s pregnant with twins. After that, you talk about everything and nothing, staying at the table for a while even when you’ve finished eating. You’re sipping your glass of water when your mother almost makes you choke as she asks, “Have you made a decision about Jungkook?”

You put the glass down, coughing. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, we’re having dinner, and it’s just us two, so you will talk about it.”

You stare at her, cocking an eyebrow. She doesn’t back down though, and you end up sighing deeply, glancing down at your empty plate. “I still don’t know, honestly.”

“How come?”

You shrug. “It’s just… scary. I don’t know if I want to move away from you and dad.”

“You know we’re thinking about selling the house to move to a condo instead,” your mother points out, and a wave of nostalgic sadness flows through you.

They’ve mentioned it a couple of times. You have a tendency to brush it off, mostly because you don’t want to think that soon, your childhood house will become another family’s to make memories in, but you know it’s coming.

“So you’re going to have to move anyway,” she continues.

“I know.” You sigh again, and then you meet her gaze. “Aren’t you afraid that he’s dangerous for me, though?”

She frowns. “Why would I be? He loves you.”

Your mother is not shy to tell you Jungkook loves you every occasion she gets. It never gets easier to hear.

“Because I almost got killed because he’s famous,” you reply.

Your mother just holds your gaze for a little while. It seems like she’s analyzing you, and your intuition is confirmed when she says, “He was with you every day while you were in the coma last year,” she reminds you. “He brushed your hair and cleaned your face every day. He talked to you, sang to you, and held your hand while we were sitting next to you. I have not for a single moment doubted that he believes you are the love of his life.”

“But what if I get hurt again?” you whisper in a small voice.

“You might get hurt walking down the stairs of the house,” your mother replies. “You might get hurt while driving your car. If you wanted to avoid everything that puts you at risk, you would never leave your bed. Yet you still do.”

“I can’t believe you’re not more scared than that.”

She purses her lips, tilting her head to the side. “Oh, honey. I am terrified. But I’m not going to be selfish and lock you in a room just because I don’t want you to get hurt again. You deserve to experience life to its fullest, especially when it was almost taken from you. And I know Jungkook. He would do everything in his power to keep you safe.”

You know he would. He’s made it clear before you left.

“I don’t know,” you let out, and you cower away from her gaze, looking down at the table again. “I know that realistically, there’s not a lot of chances of it happening again anyway. I wouldn’t put myself at risk like that again. But…”

“Before you continue,” your mother interrupts. “Take back what you just said.”

You frown. “Huh?”

“You never put yourself at risk,” your mother says. “You didn’t know that that was going to happen. You couldn’t have known. And you were in a city with a safe reputation. Don’t blame yourself for what happened.”

You find your gaze growing wet all of a sudden. “Mom…”

“I’m serious,” she insists. “You know I don’t like when you make it sound like it was your fault, because it never was.”

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches towards you, grabbing your hand. “Don’t be sorry,” she gently says. “Just don’t make it seem like you had anything to do with what happened, because you didn’t.”

You blink the tears away, nodding once. “Okay. Yes.”

She smiles at you, and then says, “So, you were saying there isn’t a lot of chances of it happening again?”

You nod. “Yeah. Mostly because I’d be more careful, but also because I know Jungkook would never allow it to happen. He said he’d get me a guard dog, mom.”

“I’m pretty sure he’d get you a lot more than a dog if you just let him.”

You know she’s right, and your heart beats just a little faster in your chest at the thought.

“But I’m scared.”

“Honey.” She squeezes your hand. “Was it scary to start writing again?”

It was. She knows it was, and you already see where she is going with this. But you decide to let her finish her thought, mostly because you reckon you need to hear it.

“Yes, it was,” you answer.

“And how did it go?” she asks.

“It went well.”

She nods, smiling. “And why do you think that is?”

“Because it’s my passion,” you reply. “Because I love writing. Writing is what makes sense to me.”

“Don’t you think he makes sense to you, too?”

You take a deep breath. “He does. But it’s a lot scarier to be with him than to write, mom.”

“Love doesn’t come without risk, ever,” she says. “I think you need to stop letting the fear stop you. You did it with writing, and it went well.”

“I’m not going to be killed by writing a book, though,” you point out. “That’s like the least risky shit I could do.”

“Fair,” she concedes. “But you’re not going to avoid being in a relationship for the rest of your days because you’re scared either. You deserve to love and be loved.”

“It wouldn’t be scary with someone else, though.”

“But would you love them?” she asks, and hell, you think you wouldn’t. Your heart has belonged to Jungkook for far too long for it to ever belong to someone else. “I doubt you would.”

“So you think I should do it? I should risk it all to be with him?”

“Yes,” she says without a doubt. “He is so in love with you. Love like that only comes once in a lifetime. You don’t want to lose it.”

You really don’t. You’ve never wanted to lose it, but you’ve also always believed that, even if you weren’t together, Jungkook would still love you. So you wouldn’t lose the love in the end, even if you never shared it. But then again… 

You look at the kitchen of your childhood house. You take it all in – the memories of happy family dinners, of your parents dancing in the kitchen when they thought no one was looking. Of your parents kissing and you and your brothers pretending to throw up because you were too young to understand what love was. You think about when they celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary two years ago. You think about the love you were fortunate to grow up witnessing…

Your parents are soulmates. You’ve never doubted it, not for a second. They’re the reason why you became a hopeless romantic. You’ve always believed you’d find your person too, like they found each other.

And it occurs to you that you’ve found your person a while ago, in the basement of a fancy club in Gangnam. You’ve found your person in a starry gaze and a sleeve of tattoos. You’ve found your person in the scariest time of your life, too. 

Because he was there for you through it all. He stuck with you, through thick and thin, through sickness and health, through life and death. But you pushed him away, because you’re terrified.

You’re terrified, yes, but you also love him. More than you even thought it was possible to love someone. And your mother is right – you would never be able to love someone again. And you doubt you want to live a life of celibacy, even though you think there is some sort of peace to such a life.

There is much more peace in the arms of the man that you love. In his sweet smiles and gentle kisses.

In the way he chose you, over everyone else.

“Should I just say fuck it and go back to him, then?”

Your mother laughs. “Yes. You should say fuck it–” she winces at the curse word – “and tell him you love him and that he’s worth the risk. He needs to hear it.”

He does. You reckon he does, and you need to tell him, too. To finally accept that, though it might be the scariest thing you’ll ever do, it’s also going to be the thing making you the most happy in the end.

At the end of the line, when you’ll look back on the life you’ll have had the chance to live with him, you doubt it will matter that you were scared. And even if something does happen, at least you will have given you and him a try, and you’ll go without regrets.

“I need to talk to him,” you declare.

Your mother nods. “Do it.”

Friday, November 20th

Jungkook is sitting on the bench in his home gym, watching Jennie and Taehyung at the squat rack. Though he isn’t really paying attention to them – he’s been lost in thoughts of you since last week, anxious at the fact that you haven’t reached out since you went home.

He’s giving you space, though. You asked for it, and he said he’d give you time and space to think. And even though you’ve only been gone since last Saturday, it’s been getting harder and harder to live with your silence.

He’d rather you just pull the band-aid off right away if you don’t want to give it a try. Because the wait is tiring, and he hasn’t been able to focus on anything since you left. 

“Did you want to do some squats too?” Jennie asks.

Jungkook raises his head, only then noticing that she’s walked over to him. Taehyung is at the mini fridge, and he comes back with water for himself and Jennie.

“Nah, I’m all good,” Jungkook replies.

Jennie slightly frowns, looking at him like she wants to say something. Jungkook waits for it, but it never comes. Instead, she drinks from her bottle, and then says, “Well, we’ll do some cardio now.”

Jungkook nods, and they walk over to the treadmill and elliptical machine he got recently. Jennie takes the treadmill, Taehyung choosing the elliptical, and Jungkook looks away, pulling at his piercings.

He stays for about a minute more before feeling the need for air, and he goes upstairs, to his inner yard. He hasn’t really smoked cigarettes in a hot minute, but this week, he’s fallen back into old habits.

The smoke in his lungs helps with the stress. More than it should, and he smokes a full cigarette, shivering in the cold day – today has been uncharacteristically cold – before going back downstairs, though he avoids the gym and heads to the studio instead.

He sits in front of the monitor, moving the mouse around so that it turns on. It’s still on the last thing he was doing, and Jungkook closes the article, opening the software in which he produces his songs.

The article was about Sara. About how she beat cancer and is back to modelling now, and though he’s happy for her, they haven’t talked in a year, and he has no intention of talking to her even now. Especially not now, when he’s just waiting for you to come back to him.

If you ever do. 

The software finishes booting up, and he clicks on the last song he’s been working on, titled ‘Before You Go’ for now. He isn’t sure if he’ll end up naming it something else when he’s done with it, but he feels like the ‘Before You Go’ part at the beginning of the chorus sticks out the most, and so he gave it the title.

The song starts playing. It’s just the guitar track right now, as he’s yet to figure out how to record the lyrics. He glances behind, trying to see past the open door of the studio to the gym to see if Jennie and Taehyung are done working out. He obviously can’t see shit, and so he gets up, walks over to the door and manages to spy them still on the treadmill and elliptical. 

So Jungkook shuts the door, walks back to the computer to press play on the record button for the mic, and he grabs the paper with the lyrics before walking into the recording room. He pulls out earbuds from his gym shorts, putting them on quickly, and then he settles in front of the mic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, and then he presses play on the guitar track on his phone, and he starts singing.

He didn’t really need the paper with the lyrics. At first, he refers to it every few seconds, but as the song progresses and he hits the first chorus, his eyes flutter shut and he lets himself sing. And he sings with the emotions in his chest, with the fear that you might never come back to him. It’ll make for a sad song. Though he reckons the lyrics of this song are the most heartbreaking of this album, so it makes sense.

Nightmare was hard to record because of the trauma that it refers to. But Before You Go… it’s a cry for you. And he hopes you can hear it, from where you are on the other side of the world.

He finishes singing, surprising himself that he did it in one go, and he turns the music off on his phone, opening his eyes to see Jennie staring at him from the other side of the window. It startles him, and he curses loudly into the mic, which only makes her burst out laughing.

He walks out of the recording room, pressing pause on the mic. He’ll have to cut the audio to make it fit with the guitar track, but Jennie is sitting in the chair in front of his computer, so it’ll have to wait.

“That was a pretty song,” she says as he’s putting his earbuds back in the case. “But it’s really fucking sad.”

“Well, they say to sing about what you feel, so…”

Jennie’s features turn apologetic, and Jungkook looks away, unable to stand the pity in her gaze.

“She hasn’t reached out yet?” she asks.

Jungkook shakes his head no. “I’m thinking about texting her on Sunday if she doesn’t text me first.”

“I don’t think you should.”

Jungkook expected Jennie to say that, but it still sucks to hear.

“In truth, I think you should prove to her how serious you are about making things work with her,” Jennie adds.

Curiosity piqued, Jungkook meets his friend’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Y/n is a romantic,” Jennie explains. “Her books are all about romance, and she clearly wants something like that for herself, you know?”

Jungkook nods, but remains silent, not quite sure as to where Jennie is headed with this,

“In her three romance books, the guy character always does a big gesture to win back his love interest,” Jennie adds. “I think she would fall for a big gesture.”

“The big gesture was to take her to Lotte Tower two weeks ago,” Jungkook points out.

Jennie furrows her brows. “But that was… not even a date, in Y/n’s words.” She must see that it hurt Jungkook, because she adds, “Sorry.”

“No, I know.” Jungkook sighs, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “She’s made that clear already. But I don’t know what I can do that is more than that.”

“Well, use your big guy brain and figure something she would like!” Jennie says, and Jungkook’s confused at hearing the annoyance in her voice. But it fades quickly as she continues, “You know her, Jungkook. What would she like?”

He frowns. “She asked for space. I’m not going to go and fuck that up.”

“Right.” Jennie pouts. “She’s been ghosting me too, you know? It’s starting to piss me off.”

Ah. So that is why Jennie’s annoyed. And though Jennie usually has good advice, Jungkook highly doubts that you want a big gesture right now. You needed time to think, and a big gesture would likely just make you feel pressured into making a decision.

He doesn’t want to pressure you at all. Especially not when he might get a lifetime with you after. What’s a few weeks of waiting compared to a full lifetime in your company?

Indeed, if you tell him you want to give it a try, Jungkook is never going to let you go. Even if you get tired of him, he’ll stay by your side. Until he draws his last breath.

“It sucks,” Jungkook agrees with Jennie. “But I asked her to make a big decision. It makes sense that it’s taking her some time.”

Taehyung appears in the doorframe, and Jungkook and Jennie look at him. “What are you guys doing?”

“Talking about Y/n,” Jennie replies in Jungkook’s stead.

“Ah, I should have expected that,” Taehyung replies. He walks in, plopping down on the couch. “What’s up with her?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says. “She hasn’t reached out yet.”

“She hasn’t talked to me either,” Jennie points out. “I’m worried.”

“You both need to give her some time,” Taehyung says, and he takes a long sip from the water bottle in his hand. “She just needs to think. Although… she did ghost you last year.”

Jungkook’s heart sinks in his chest at the reminder.

“Thanks, Tae, that was so needed right now,” Jennie deadpans.

Taehyung shrugs. “I genuinely think she’ll text you when she’s ready, though. She had her reasons to ghost last year, but she doesn’t have any now.”

“Except that I literally asked her to move here,” Jungkook points out, and he cringes internally.

You guys aren’t even dating and he said you should move here. No wonder you haven’t been reaching out.

“Is that really what you said?” Jennie asks.

“Well…” Jungkook trails off. “It was more of a suggestion because she said she didn’t want to do long distance.”

“Oh,” Jennie lets out. “Right.”

“But honestly, she’s just scared,” Jungkook adds. “With everything that happened last year, she’s afraid she might get–” He takes a sharp inhale of breath, finding himself unable to finish the sentence. “But I know we can figure out a thousand ways to keep her safe.”

“You could probably get Mr Lee to bodyguard for her,” Taehyung suggests. “I think he’s getting tired of the whole group thing.”

Mr Lee has been their bodyguard since they first debuted. But he’s been getting older, so Jungkook reckons he might indeed be starting to feel the need to slow down. And working private like that, for just one person, might just be what he needs.

“I told her I’d get her a dog,” Jungkook admits. “I even found a breeder that seems very legit.”

Indeed, during the long hours he spends every night looking at the ceiling as he waits for you to reach out, Jungkook found a breeder that breeds Dobermans. She seems like a genuinely good person, and he’s already let her know that he’d be interested in buying a dog.

Because if you tell him you don’t want to give you both a chance, Jungkook knows he’ll need a companion around to keep him from going insane like he did last year.

“That’s adorable,” Jennie lets out. “Woah, Tae, can we get a dog too?”

Taehyung snorts. “I’ll think about it.”

Right when Jungkook is about to say he can let them know who the breeder is, his phone dings. He’s muted everything on his phone except his conversation with you, and his hands immediately grow clammy at the knowledge that you’ve reached out.

Finally. The wait is over.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and the sight of your name on the screen almost brings him to tears.

“It’s her,” he whispers.

Jennie’s gaze widens as her eyes shoot to him. “What did she say?”

“She asked if she can call.”

Jennie springs up, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and pulling him up, too. “We’ll give you some space. But you tell me what she says the second you hang up.”

Jungkook nods, and he watches his friends go, thankful that Taehyung took the time to shut the door behind them. And then Jungkook stares at his phone again, before sitting in the chair Jennie just vacated.

[2:08 pm] Jungkook: yes, ofc you can call

Your reply comes all of ten seconds later.

[2:09 pm] You: are you available right now?

Instead of waiting, because his heart literally cannot take this anymore, Jungkook presses on the phone icon at the top of his chat with you, and it starts ringing a few seconds later.

You pick up on the third ring, like you might have needed some time to collect yourself.

“Hey,” you let out.

Jungkook wants to cry at hearing your voice. Hell, his eyes fill with tears, and he shuts them, trying to picture you on the other side of the line.

On the other side of the world, too.

“Hey,” he lets out, his voice small and scared.

What if this is the last time he’ll ever talk to you?

“You’re not busy?” you ask.

Not for you, no.

“Nah, I’m just at home,” he replies.

You hum, and he hears you sigh. His heart starts shattering already, and he wishes he wouldn’t have to hear you say you’re over.

He can’t hear those words from your lips again.

“I’ve started writing the book,” you tell him.

He smiles, even though his heart is bleeding out. “I knew you would.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” You chuckle. “Your album is almost ready, and we had a deal.”

Indeed, back in Okinawa, you made a deal that he’d release his album if you wrote your book. And he knows now that the album will see the light of day.

No matter the outcome of this conversation with you.

“You made her the princess, yeah?” Jungkook asks.

He kept telling you you should last week.

“I did.” He smiles victoriously, though he doesn’t quite feel the joy that he should at you going with his suggestion. “It made the most sense.”

“I told you,” Jungkook lets out.

You chuckle again, and then there’s a long silence. It’s painful, stretching into an eternity he hates, and he taps his foot on the floor, his leg bouncing up and down as he waits for you to speak up.

“What have you been to this week?” you ask, clearly avoiding the subject.

Jungkook opens his eyes, looking at the monitor. “Just been working on the album and working out, honestly.”

“Right.” There’s another stretch of silence, and then Jungkook hears you take a deep breath. He prepares for impact, readying himself for the way you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. “I miss you, Jungkook.”

Your voice is small and weak, scared, and it is definitely not what he was expecting to hear. Yet he starts crying all the same, and he leans his head back against the chair.

“I miss you too,” he replies softly.

“I’m scared, you know?”

“I know. I’m scared, too,” he admits. 

“Why are you scared?” you ask, and you sound genuinely confused.

He thinks it’s a stupid question, but then again you’re not in his head.

How can you know if he doesn’t tell you?

“I’m scared that you’ll realize you and I aren’t worth it,” he admits, and fresh tears roll on his cheeks. “I’m scared that I’ll have to learn how to live a lifetime without you by my side. Because I don’t think my feelings for you can ever fade. And it’s terrifying.”

“You would heal,” you reply softly. “You’re one of the strongest persons I know.”

“Y/n…” He chuckles bitterly. “The nightmare started again this week. I am not as strong as you think I am.”

“But you are,” you insist. “Because after everything, you’re still here. You’re still talking to me, you’re still willing to put your heart in my hands. It takes the highest level of courage to put your heart into the hands of someone that’s hurt you in the past.”

“It takes courage, or stupidity?” he asks.

“Courage,” you reply. “Because you’re you. You’re unabashedly you, no matter the odds that life throws your way. I need to be more like you.”

That makes him laugh, somehow, and he slightly shakes his head. “I think you’re a lot better than I’ll ever be.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he says. “Because you got out stronger from what happened to you. You never let it affect you, never let it tear you down. I spent so long running away from everything instead of facing it while you faced it head on from the first day.”

He reckons that’s why you healed when he got stuck in a cycle of toxic coping mechanisms. Because you weren’t afraid to face the dirty truth.

He was always just trying to escape from it.

“Maybe it took you longer to get there, but you did get there too, Jungkook,” you gently say. “The album is proof of that.”

“Is it?”

“It is. It’s proof that behind all the pain, there’s a beautiful soul.”

He doesn’t know if it’s a compliment, so he says, “You think I have a beautiful soul.”

“Oh yeah,” you say with more conviction than he expected. “I think you have the most beautiful soul. Because despite everything, like I said before, you’re still your authentic self. And there’s nothing more beautiful than that.”

“I’m a mess, Y/n,” he reminds you. “Don’t gas me up like this.”

“You’re bad at receiving compliments, aren’t you?”

It’s said in a teasing tone, but he’s so scared you’re about to end everything that he’s not able to laugh. “I guess.”

You sense his unease. He can almost hear the frown in your voice when you say, “I guess that what I’m trying to say is I really like the person that you are, but I don’t think I made it sound like that.” You clear your throat, and then you say, “I think you’re amazing, Jungkook. And I think you’re strong because you’re not afraid of the things that could happen if we were to give us a chance. You follow your heart unapologetically, and you’re not afraid to make it known to the world. And I admire that about you.”

“Y/n…”

“Wait,” you add, and he can tell you’re crying now. Your voice is wavery, shaking at the edges, and he wishes he could hold you and wipe your tears for you.

He knows you would wipe his, too.

“I admire a lot about you,” you continue. “Your work ethic, the way you live life to its fullest, your energy when it comes to the things you love. But also, the way you can find solutions in the darkest of places, even though you don’t realize that you do.”

He doesn’t deserve that last compliment. Not when he spent months self-destructing after you, but you’re speaking too fast for him to say it so.

“I think you’re beautiful in and out, and I honestly don’t know what you see in me that makes you want to be with me, but I think I want to find out. If you’ll have me.”

…

What?

“You’re not ending things?” he asks, sounding just as shocked as he feels.

“No,” you reply softly. “I’m done running away from the one I love.”

Love…

You love him?

“Y/n, I wasn’t expecting this.”

He thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe. But it’s okay.

Everything is okay in the end, after all.

There’s a silence, and then you say, “Well, if you’ve changed your mind, I understand it too. And I won’t be mad at you.”

Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because you’re not ending things. You’re not ending things at all. As a matter of fact, you want to give you both a chance. One he doesn’t think he’ll ever deserve, but he’ll do his best to live up to the expectations every day.

He owes you as much.

“I’m going to book a flight to come see you, okay?” he says with a shaky voice. “I need to see you.”

“So…” you trail off. “Does that mean you still want to give us a chance?”

“Y/n,” he scolds gently. “Of course, I do. I am so completely in love with you, I’m never going to let you go again.”

You laugh, and he thinks you’re sobbing at the same time. He needs to hold you close. Needs to feel your body against him, like a confirmation that this is all real.

That he really does get to be with you in the end.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

Jungkook is crying too. Yet this time it’s tears of joy, cascading down his cheeks like a testament that he finally did it. He made it through the hardest time of his life and came out of it on the right side. On the one where he gets to be with you.

Fuck. He could scream it from the rooftops. The world needs to know that you’re going to give you a chance. That you and him is a thing that will exist in more than just his wildest hopes and dreams.

You love him, for fuck’s sake. 

“I’m coming to you,” Jungkook says, and he immediately starts looking for flights on his computer. 

He finds one that leaves at 6:00 pm. It’s a direct flight, which means he should get to you by the end of the day tomorrow your time. He buys the ticket, not even waiting for you to say anything.

He thinks you’re too busy crying happy tears to actually reply anyway. 

“I’ll be there tomorrow night,” he tells you once he gets the confirmation number.

He has to run to the airport right away.

“Jungkook…”

“Yes?”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

He smiles, grinning wide. “I can’t wait to see you either.”

There’s a world of fireworks and butterflies and softness and warmth in his chest. He’s never felt so many beautiful feelings at the same time, and it’s a little overwhelming. But it’s oh so healing, too.

He really made it through, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry I put you through so much shit,” you whisper a few seconds later.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassures you. And it really is. He’d do it all over again, knowing that it leads to you in the end. “You don’t ever have to apologize for it, okay?”

“Okay,” you let out, and you laugh softly.

He echoes it, his heart filling with so much more warmth and love he thinks the sun has bloomed behind his ribcage.

You love him. And he loves you.

Holy shit.

There has never been more beauty in this world than at this exact instant in time.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

i love them so much and i would go to war for them. hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!! only one more left :') let me know what you thought of this one here!

Choose one member -

BTS:

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Jeon Jungkook

Ateez:

Kim Hongjoong

Park Seonghwa

Jeong Yunho

Kang Yeosang

Choi San

Song Mingi

Jung Wooyoung

Choi Jongho

GOT7:

Mark Ryan

Im Jaebeom

Jackson Wang

Park Jinyoung

Choi Youngjae

Bambam

Kim Yugyeom

Choose one Genre:

Smut

Angst

Fluff

Choose one troupe:

One night stand

Wedding guest

Office colleagues

Stranger you see every morning

Coffee shop barista

Your best friends brother

Blind date

Childhood friend to lovers

Ex-boyfriend to lovers

Established relationship

Idol x non idol

Personal trainer

Mafia boss

Secret admirer

Business rivals

Marriage proposal

Finding out your pregnant

Forced proximity

Meeting someone on holiday

Fake dating

☆☆☆☆☆

Tuesday, November 4th 

Seoul is sunny today. Yet it’s colder than you’d expected it to be, and you pull at the lapels of your coat, folding your arms on your chest as you seek warmth. But the sun is shining, the vast blue sky void of any clouds, and it’s much better than back home.

It snowed yesterday at your parents’ house. It didn’t stick around for long, but your mother sent you a picture telling you that you left at just the right time. You reckon you have – you’re not mentally ready for it to be winter yet. Not when you feel like summer was just a few seconds ago. Especially with the trip to Okinawa.

You haven’t been able to stop thinking about Okinawa. About how you collided with Jeon Jungkook once more, inevitably so. You haven’t spoken since then, but he’s been on your mind constantly for the last month, and for the first time since last year, it’s been a good thing.

The thought of him hasn’t been hurting quite as much anymore. Perhaps because you planned to see each other during your two weeks here in Seoul. You’re excited about it – it’s like you’ve found some innocence in the thought of him again, and it’s healed a part of you that was refusing to heal over time.

Maybe you just needed more time. Maybe one day, you would have truly forgotten Jeon Jungkook. But somehow, thinking that you don’t have to forget him just yet, if ever…

It’s brought peace to your every moment. Because even though you haven’t talked, there’s peace in the thought of him. In the way the memory of his lips on yours the night of Taehyung and Jennie’s engagement party keeps invading your thoughts whenever you least expect it.

Your mother asked you the reason why your smiles have become so easy, so frequent, and you told her about Jungkook. Her eyes were shining brightly when you did, and the only thing she said was, “I told you so.”

You haven’t spoken about it with her again, and she hasn’t pushed either. But you know she really hopes your trip here helps you to reconnect with him. You heard her tell your father a few days before you left, when they were cooking together not knowing that you had come up from downstairs.

A gush of wind startles you, a piece of paper flying right into your chest. It flies away before you can get a hold of it, and you look behind yourself to see it catching on a pole behind you. 

You’re headed to the coffeeshop the producer sent you, where you’ll meet and talk about what happened. You don’t really know what she expects you to tell her, considering you don’t remember much of it, but she insisted on meeting in person, so here you are today.

Back where you were a year ago, before everything went to shit. And though maybe it should make you feel anxious, the sun above pushes the dark thoughts away before they can truly surface.

It helps that Jennie will be there. Indeed, she’s worked with that producer before, and so she suggested being there with you during the interview to make sure you’re okay. 

You haven’t seen her since the week in Okinawa, and you’re excited to ask her about her and Taehyung’s plans for the wedding. It seems they aren’t planning to elope in the end, like Jungkook said they would, though Jennie mentioned wanting to wait for the weather to be warm outside again before they get married.

You reach the coffeeshop, a cute, aesthetic ancestral building not too far from the hanok village in Insadong. You’ve been here before with Hyunseok, at the beginning of your friendship with him, and you’re excited to be here again.

The food is amazing, and so is the coffee. 

There’s a line when you get there, and you take your phone out of the tote bag on your shoulder to text Jennie to ask if she’s already here. She texts you to just walk in, that they’ve given your name to the girl at the door, and so you do so, finding the girl in question. She lets you in, and you head to the inside part of the building on the other side of the inner court. You take off your shoes before getting in, and you find Jennie and the producer, Shin Jaebom, at the very back of the coffee shop sitting on little cushions on the floor on each side of a round table, both of them with food on trays. 

Jennie grins as she catches sight of you, and she gets up to give you a hug. You’re well aware of the gaze of the people around you, but you ignore it as best as you can, especially considering this place is relatively touristic.

You tell yourself none of these people actually know what happened and why you’re here today, and it eases the anxiety that was threatening to churn in your gut.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Jennie says as she hugs you tight.

You pull away, meeting her gaze. “So happy to see you too.”

Jaebom got up while you were hugging, and you shake her hand with a polite bow of your head as she says, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you return.

And then the three of you sit down around the small round table, and Jennie pushes your food towards you – you sent her your order and she got everything for you already. You take a shy bite of the strawberry dessert, and you close your eyes as the sweet taste fills your mouth.

“It’s even better than I remember it,” you tell her, and she chuckles.

“You should have seen me eat mine before you got here,” she says. “I will come back here for sure.”

“Told you!”

Jaebom has just been watching the exchange, and you meet her gaze, offering her a small smile.

“You look even better in person than in pictures,” she says, and you feel your cheeks burning furiously from the unexpected compliment. “You’re right, Jennie, she would look amazing on screen.”

You glance at Jennie. “On screen?”

“We were just saying that, if you weren’t a writer, you definitely could have made it as an actress,” she explains.

You wince, tilting your head to the side. “I cannot act for the life of myself, unfortunately.”

Jaebom chuckles, and she takes a sip of her iced americano. “I’m sure you could learn if you wanted to.”

But you don’t. You think being in front of the cameras like Jennie is would make you panic. It’d throw you out in the public eye even more than you already are and, with your baggage, you’d likely get a heart attack from it.

“Maybe,” you let out, not wanting to be rude and tell the director you doubt it. 

She doesn’t sense your unease, especially not as she says, “But we’re not here to discuss that, are we?” You and Jennie both nod, and she adds, “I’m actually glad you’re here too, Jennie. I think your insight is going to be helpful in constructing this series.”

And then Jaebom starts explaining the idea behind the series she’s been working on. It’s a story about a female idol who’s been in the public eye since she was very young. She’s loved by everyone, but she has a stalker that progressively becomes bolder and bolder, until he eventually attacks a man she goes on a date with. The series is meant to delve into thriller vibes, and to show the darkest part of what being an idol is like. She’s interviewing you for your take on what it’s like to date someone in the public eye when you aren’t part of it, and she doesn’t mention your assault as much as you thought she would.

“Dating someone in the public eye is not for the faint of heart,” you tell her. “It got stressful at times, and it really limits the kind of things you can do with your partner.”

Indeed, back then, you and Jungkook never went on dates. You’d always just hang out at his house, and sometimes at your apartment.

“Mmh,” she lets out pensively. And then you feel the shift in the air. You know she’ll ask what truly happened last year, and you steel yourself as you hold her gaze. “Jennie mentioned you don’t remember much about the assault, but what was it like to wake up and be told that it happened?”

Your heart aches, and Jennie grabs your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. You interlace your fingers, and you reply, “It was scary. At times, I wanted to believe it was all a lie, but I could see how the people around me acted after. Especially my family. They came all the way here to be with me at the hospital, and it made me feel like I was dying.” You wet your lips, glancing at Jennie quickly before resuming your attention on Jaebom. “Which I know I almost did, but it still feels unreal to think about it a year later. Especially when the memories never came back.”

Jaebom makes a non-committal sound. “So it’s just like… a void when you try to think about it?”

You nod. “Yeah, there’s just nothing there.”

“That could be a good take for an episode…” she trails off, looking down at her coffee, which is just ice now. “The viewers being left in the dark along with the character…”

And you can imagine it, too. Just a blank scene, with maybe only the sound of sirens in the distance. The story being told backwards, with the first real scene being at the hospital… You think that could do great. You say so, and Jaebom agrees with you, taking notes in a little notepad.

“I’m surprised you’re so open about it all,” she says some time later, when you’re concluding the interview. “You are extremely strong.”

You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “I wouldn’t have made it here without the people supporting me.” You glance at Jennie, and she smiles softly. “What got me through it all are the friends I made. And the help from my family, obviously.”

“It’s admirable,” Jaebom says. “And Jennie?”

Jennie meets her gaze. “Yes?”

“Want to play the role of the idol?”

She looks at you. “I would love to.”

*****

Jungkook knows you’re in town. Jennie told him, but you still haven’t reached out, and it’s been stressing him out.

What if you changed your mind since last month? What if you don’t want to see him anymore?

He’s been asking himself that question all afternoon as he works on his album, and he eventually gives up on it. He can’t focus, the thought of you way too loud to let him think about other things, and though usually it’s a good thing with this album, today it makes it too hard.

Instead, he decides to work out, to lose himself in the repetitive motions of his regular back, shoulders and triceps day. It still doesn’t get you off his mind, so he runs on the treadmill for a while, hoping that might help.

Nothing does. It’s been like this for a few days, even before you actually landed in Seoul. It’s like he can sense your proximity, and he’s constantly on edge, expecting to see you wherever he goes. 

You’re driving him insane. Though he reckons he went insane over you a long time ago. Part of him went insane that first night he touched you, right here in this gym…

“Fuck,” he curses loudly, and he stops the treadmill.

It slows to a halt, and he breathes in and out, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He hears it in his ears, and it seems louder than even his drumset is whenever he plays. 

But he’s horny. Can’t help it, not when all he can remember is the way you came all over his hand that night, before leaving in a hurry.

To think he was going to fall in love with you after that…

His heart strains, and he takes a deep breath, stepping off the treadmill to head to the mini fridge. He grabs a water bottle from it, chugging half of it in a few long sips, and then he leans against the wall, looking at the spot by the door where the events took place.

You’re everywhere in this house. Even though you haven’t been here in almost a year, you’re everywhere. 

He still sees you in his bed, your hair like a crown around your head on the pillow. He still sees you in the shower, your skin glistening with water drops. Still sees you sitting at the kitchen island, watching him cook.

Still sees you as you ran out that night, only to never come back. He remembers the good and the bad, but the bad doesn’t kill him like it used to. Okinawa really healed something in him.

He still had the nightmare a few times since then. But he woke up, drank water and was able to fall back asleep after. It helps that he started therapy for good, and finally managing to talk to someone about everything without the fear of being judged has been freeing in its own way, too.

He’s been doing better. Hasn’t hooked up with anyone since before Okinawa either. He’s just been focusing on the album, on working out and on spending time with his friends. He even spent a weekend down south in Busan with his family, and his mother was so happy to see him she kept crying randomly.

It was adorable. But then again, it also hurts to think that the reason why she tends to get emotional when it comes to him now is because Jennie reached out last December, when he was at the bottom of the barrel, and it’s been haunting his mother.

But she was smiling when he left. A wide grin he recognized from whenever she was proud of him as a kid, and he thinks she’s been healing from it all, too.

He pushes off the wall, clutching the water bottle, and he grabs his phone where he left it on the treadmill. There’s still no message from you, and he tells himself it’s okay, that you’re busy, but it doesn’t stop his heart from sinking in his chest. He heads upstairs to take a shower, and then he busies himself with cooking dinner.

His phone is on the counter, face up, and it turns on with an incoming text. His hands are dirty with egg yolk, as he was too lazy to use a spoon to separate the yolk from the white, and he groans as he jumps to the sink, rinsing his fingers as fast as he can. He made a mess on the floor, but he ignores it, grabbing his phone with wet hands.

Only to see he’s received an ad on Kakao from a store he went to ages ago. It pisses him off so much he almost throws his phone across the room, but then he reminds himself that he needs it in case you text him.

If you ever do.

Later that night, long after Jungkook has eaten dinner and cleaned the kitchen behind himself, he lies on the couch, watching a drama his mother told him about while he was in Busan. He finally manages to get you off his mind as he’s invested in the story, and he binge watches three episodes without checking his phone.

He’s yawning, debating going to bed or checking another episode, when he grabs his phone from where he abandoned it on the coffee table earlier. And his heart literally drops out of his chest and onto the floor at the message that sits in his notifications.

[9:34 pm] unknown number: hey, it’s y/n [9:35 pm] unknown number: how have you been

It’s hours later, and Jungkook thinks you’re likely asleep by now. He still replies right away after having saved your phone number under your contact, hoping you’re not asleep yet.

[11:56 pm] Jungkook: hey! i was waiting for your message [11:57 pm] Jungkook: i’ve been good. just busy recording the album [11:57 pm] Jungkook: you?

You don’t reply right away, but Jungkook can’t stop smiling as he stares at his phone, and at the message you sent him. It’s a new conversation thread, and it feels like more. It feels like the beginning of something new, and he reckons it is.

This is the beginning of a new story, with you. Or at least he hopes it is. At least he hopes you haven’t been able to forget Okinawa either. 

When he’s brushing his teeth after having finally watched another episode, Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. He grabs it, heartbeat quickening, to see your name on the screen for the first time since last year.

[1:37 am] You: sorry, i was asleep [1:38 am] You: i’ve been good too. i was stressed about today’s interview, but it went well

Jungkook frowns as he looks down at his phone, wondering what interview you’re talking about. Jennie was evasive when she mentioned you were hanging out today.

He finishes brushing his teeth quickly, spitting the toothpaste in the sink and rinsing his toothbrush thoroughly before leaving it in the glass by the tap. He heads to his room, lying back on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as he replies to you.

[1:42 am] Jungkook: the interview?

It doesn’t take you long to reply, as if you were just waiting on the conversation for him to say something.

[1:43 am] You: shin jaebom is making a show about the dark aspects of being famous, and she wanted an interview  [1:44 am] You: for research for a character that will get hurt on the show in similar circumstances that i did [1:45 am] You: that’s why i’m in seoul

Jungkook can’t help the disappointment that takes over his chest. For some reason, he’d stupidly wished you had decided to move back here, but he reckons it wouldn’t make sense for you to.

Your whole life is back in America, after all.

[1:46 am] Jungkook: oh, i didn’t know [1:46 am] Jungkook: it must have not been easy to talk about everything

He sees the three dots appearing and disappearing a few times, and he just watches, stress flooding his bloodstream slowly. But then a text comes in, and he reckons he’s lighter than a feather flowing down from the ceiling.

[1:49 am] You: can i call?

He’s smiling. He’s smiling wide when he replies that yes, of course you can call. 

It takes a few seconds before the call comes in, and he’s a little disappointed that it’s just a regular call, and not a Facetime one. But then again, he’s getting to hear your voice, and it’s so much more than what he thought he was getting tonight.

He’s more excited than a schoolboy with a crush, and it’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t you. But it’s you. It’s you, and there’s nothing more natural than getting to talk to you again as if no time has passed.

“Hey,” he greets you as he takes the call and places his phone against his ear, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” you say back. There’s a short silence, and then you say, “Sorry I didn’t text you before.”

He rolls on his stomach, looking at the calluses in his free hand. “Don’t apologize. You were busy with your interview.”

You stay silent for a time, and he wishes he could reach through the phone and hold your hand. It’s visceral, and he feels it in his entire body, like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you. But then you’re talking again, and the feeling passes.

“Yeah so,” you let out, and he hears you yawn. “Shit, my bad. So, it wasn’t actually as hard as I thought it would be.”

“No?”

“No. I’ve healed a lot,” you say. “Like I told you in Okinawa, I didn’t develop PTSD or anything, and I’ve been good at dealing with the anxiety. I think…” you trail off, and he waits patiently for you to finish your thought. “I think I was kind of using this as a test to make sure I’ve truly moved on, you know?”

He hums. “Yeah, I get that. Did you pass the test?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he imagines you laying on your back, looking at the ceiling much like he was earlier. Are you at the hotel, or are you staying with a friend?

“I did,” you say with quiet conviction. “It’s been a year, but it feels like so much longer.”

True. It’ll be a year next week. But it does feel like so much more for him too. Maybe because touring felt like it lasted forever, and he’s felt… changed since he returned from Okinawa. Like he’s a completely new person.

It’s all thanks to you.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, and it takes so long for you to reply he questions if the phone picked up his voice at all.

But then you say, “Thank you, Jungkook,” with the smallest voice ever, and he just really wants to hold you for a time.

To hold you and let an eternity pass before he lets go. If he ever does.

“Of course,” he gently murmurs.

He swears he can hear you smiling when you talk next. “So you’ve been working on the album?”

He nods even though you can’t see him. “I have. I have a few more songs I’ll show you when I see you.”

“I can’t wait.”

Fuck. he’s got butterflies and the whole thing. It’s scary, so fucking scary, but at the same time, he hasn’t felt this carefree in so long, and he’s not going to let his stress damper it.

Like he discussed with his therapist, he wants to try and make it work with you. His therapist mentioned it’d be a good idea to have a conversation with you to make sure it’s something you want, too, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

He’ll figure it out when you’re in front of him.

“When did you want to hang out, by the way?” he asks then, and he wonders if you can hear how loud and fast his heart is now beating.

“I have things planned up until Friday, but I’m free Friday evening,” you reply. “Are you?”

He made sure to keep his full schedule free this month so that he wouldn’t miss you when you’re available. So he says, “Yes, of course.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he echoes, and you chuckle, and he really is a schoolboy with a crush.

Despite everything that happened, he still feels the same.

“Where are you staying?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.

“I got a hotel not too far from Jennie and Tae’s place,” you answer. “It’s a tiny room, but it’s right next to a subway station.”

“You’ve been taking the subway?”

You chuckle. “No choice. I can’t afford to get a driver like you guys do.”

Jungkook frowns. “Didn’t you make good money with your book?”

“I did,” you say, and you sigh. “But I don’t know, I haven’t written anything in so long and I’m a little worried I’ll run out of money.”

“You won’t,” Jungkook reassures you. “I’m making the album, you have no choice but to write.”

“I was hoping you didn’t remember that,” you grumble, and he can’t help his laugh.

“Of course, I do.”

Of course. He remembers everything when it comes to you. The good and the bad.

“Well,” you let out. “I guess I’ll have to write that fantasy book, then.”

“You sure do.” He smiles, and then rolls on his back. “Did you think about it more?”

“I did, actually,” you admit. “I’ve started making character sheets.”

“Oh? Hit me with them.”

“No.”

He frowns. “What do you mean, no? I want to know!”

You laugh. “Let me figure it all out first. I don’t want to give you half of an idea, you know?”

“Fair.” He pouts, looking up at the ceiling. The conversation ends there, and he tries to figure out what to say next, settling on a truth that fills his entire body with warmth. “I’m excited to see you Friday.”

“Me too,” you reply softly.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admits. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but I really have.”

“I have been thinking about you a lot too,” you reveal. “So don’t feel bad about it.”

He’s grinning to the ceiling when he says, “Good.”

“Good,” you echo, and you both laugh again.

This is easy. So fucking easy. And Jungkook wonders, why did the universe try to pull you away from each other?

Why did you need to go through all of this pain?

And maybe, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out without the pain. Hell, maybe he’s getting too excited. Maybe it won’t even work out now either. But he’s so hopeful, so fucking hopeful, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in a year, and he’s not going to let it go.

Not for now. He’ll try, and if you push him away again, then he will have tried. He won’t have to live with the regret and the what-ifs that would surely haunt him if he didn’t try with you this time around.

Yes, you might not even want to try. Yes, he might just see you Friday and never see you again. But there’s light and hope tonight.

There’s been light and hope since Okinawa, in all truth.

“What do you want to do on Friday?” Jungkook asks.

He hears you yawn, and he waits for a few seconds before you reply, “I honestly don’t know.” You let out a small laugh, and then you say, “I realized today that we’ve never gone on an actual date.”

“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, and he feels stupid the second the question is out.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call this a date but… yes?”

His heart does a weird thing in his chest. It hurts and fills with joy at the same time. Maybe because you’re not sure if you want to call it a date, but you still want to see him.

Surely it has to mean something, right?

“I can plan something,” he tells you. “I can pick you up at the hotel around 7 pm?”

“That works for me,” you reply. “Just let me know what I should wear.”

“Dress pretty,” he immediately says. “Not that you usually don’t. You always do. But if it’s a date…”

“I’m not saying it’s a date.” You laugh, and then you add, “But alright, I’ll dress pretty.”

He doesn’t like that you’re insisting it’s not a date. It puts a damper on the light at the end of the tunnel, but he still heads towards it, because it’s the only thing he knows to do.

You’ve been at the end of every road for him for a while now.

“And don’t eat before,” he adds. 

“I won’t,” you say, and you yawn again. “Shit, I’ll have to go back to bed soon. The jetlag is killing me.”

“I won’t keep you up any longer, then,” Jungkook says. “Please rest up.”

“I will. I’m hanging out with Hyunseok tomorrow, then seeing Jennie and Mingyu on Thursday… but I’ll rest up.”

Jungkook frowns. He didn’t even know that Mingyu took a day off from the army, but then again you and Mingyu have always been good friends, and Mingyu hasn’t seen you in a year. It makes sense that he wants to see you while you’re here.

They hung out last month, right before Okinawa. And Mingyu was glowing, the perfect picture of a man in love. So Jungkook doesn’t feel threatened about you and him hanging out. Not like he did last year.

“I hope you’ll sleep well,” Jungkook gently says.

“I will.” You sigh, adding, “Can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you either.”

He’s smiling like a kid on a Christmas morning.

“Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night,” you echo.

He falls asleep with that same smile on his lips that night, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. And he doesn’t visit the alley of his nightmare for once. No. Instead, he dreams of the sun and the sea, of pretty eyes that sparkle as they look at him and of a smile he’s come to know more than his own.

It’s a beautiful dream that almost rivals the fact that he’ll see you soon.

Almost.

Thursday, November 5th

The restaurant Mingyu chose is one you’ve been to before, at the very beginning of your friendship with Jennie and him. It’s coincidentally one of his favourite restaurants, and so you and Jennie didn’t have it in you to ask to go somewhere else when he’s been stuck in the army for nearly a year now.

You get there early. You didn’t mean to, as you were initially supposed to get here with Jennie, but she got stuck in a shooting for longer than expected, and so you get to the restaurant alone, finding Mingyu sitting at the table by himself.

You ended up never replying to the message he sent you last year, when you were in the hospital. You’ve reread it on the way here, and your heart has been sitting uncomfortably in your chest, beating just out of its usual rhythm.

[1:11 am, November 26th] Mingyu (flexing emoji): hey y/n. it was great to see you today, even though we couldn’t really talk. as i was sitting there next to you, i realized i’ve been repressing a lot of feelings when it comes to you, as i was trying to be respectful of you and jungkook’s relationship. but now that i’m leaving for the next year and a half, i can’t help but regret not being honest to myself and to you before. i’m not expecting this message to change anything, and i honestly don’t think i want it to. i’m very happy with us being just friends, even though i sometimes think about what could have been if i told you i liked you before you and jk got closer. but i only understood after seeing you guys together, and by then it was too late.  [1:20 am] Mingyu (flexing emoji): i’m not the type to do relationships. i’m not the type to really ever fall in love. but there’s something about you… ever since i first saw you at the club in gangnam. before we even talked, you were sitting at the bar with jennie and i just remember thinking damn. i thought it was just physical attraction, but over the months i realized it was more. you’re an amazing person. beautiful inside out, and it really was easy to develop feelings for you even though i knew it was never going to be reciprocated. and you’ve made me realize that maybe, maybe i do want a relationship. not with you, ofc, but i want to love someone, and i wanna be loved back. i have a lot of work to do on myself before i get there but… yeah.  [1:28 am] Mingyu (flexing emoji): anyways, i know this will be a lot to read when you just woke up a few days ago, and i’m not expecting you to reply. i just won’t have my phone for a while starting tomorrow, and i just wanted to get this off my chest. i love you, y/n, as a little more than a friend, but as a friend first and foremost, and i will be praying for your healing. please take care of yourself, and be kind to yourself over the next few months. i’ll see you again when i’m out of the military

And now, Mingyu is sitting at the table, raising his head as he sees you walking towards him, and you do wonder… What would have happened all those months ago if he’d told you how he felt before you could get closer to Jungkook?

You can almost see it… You would have had fun, you’re sure of it. A relationship that feels more like a friendship than a relationship in the end. You doubt it would have lasted – you’re too much of a sucker for romance, and eventually you would have felt like being with him was lacking something. 

You likely would have ended up breaking his heart in the end, which you reckon he did not deserve. So it’s a good thing that you didn’t play out like that, that you and he remained in friendship territory.

“Y/n,” he says as he gets up from the table with a wide grin on display. He hugs you for half a heartbeat, and then you sit down next to each other, mostly facing the empty restaurant. “Wow, you look amazing.”

You smile, your eyes darting to the muscles on his arms. “Look at yourself. You look like you could split a log open with your hands.”

He makes a show of flexing his arms, and gosh, they are huge. “Being in the army has its advantages.”

“Visibly.”

You take off your jacket, getting up to shove it in the barrel you’re sitting on along with your purse. Mingyu laughs as you do so, and then he motions at your own arms.

“Have you also joined the army or something?”

You chuckle. “I am now a five days a week-at-the-gym type of girl.”

“Love that.” He smiles, falling silent for a few seconds. “You really look good, Y/n. I’m proud of you.”

A lump forms in your throat, silver gathering on your waterline. You don’t try to push the emotions away, content just sitting with them for a moment. Mingyu gives you the grace of waiting for you to collect yourself, and when you do, you chuckle, punching him in the shoulder.

“Don’t make me cry, weirdo,” you say.

“Yah! I didn’t say anything!” he lets out, pouting. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too,” you reply, meaning it. 

“What have you been up to?”

A waitress comes at that moment, and Mingyu tells her you’re waiting for someone else. You watch her leave, and then you reply, “Honestly, mostly just the gym and reading. Spending time with my family. Nothing too crazy.”

“Sometimes, that’s just what you need.” He takes a sip of a glass of water, and then he pours you one. “I’d tell you what I’ve been up to, but it really is just boring army shit.”

“Is it that boring?” you ask.

He winces. “More than you think. Most of the time we don’t have much more to do than train. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Yeah, I bet.” You drink some water. “But you’re more than halfway done, aren’t you?”

“It’s nearly been a year,” he says with a nod. “I get out in the first week of June.”

“See, you’re almost there!” 

You try to be encouraging, but the serious, annoyed look he gives you makes you burst out laughing.

“Listen, at least you don’t have to do the longer service that Min Yoongi had to do,” you point out.

“I mean, yeah, for sure.” He chuckles, glancing at the empty restaurant before resuming his attention on you. “But at least he got to stay home most of the time. I cannot sleep for the life of me in that dormitory.”

“Too much snoring?”

He nods, eyes going up towards the ceiling. “You can’t even imagine it. It’s like there’s a train in there every night.” You scrunch up your nose in disgust, and you’re about to talk, though he adds, “Actually, you can understand. They snore like Jungkook does.”

In truth, you’ve always found Jungkook’s snoring to be calming. Most of the time, when  you would share a bed, it would be like a weird, soothing track to your dreams.

“That he does,” you still say.

Mingyu gauges your reaction for a time, and then says, “He mentioned you’re hanging out tomorrow.”

Your throat dries out, your heart stops for a few seconds, and you drink a sip of water, putting the stainless steel glass down slowly. “Yeah, we are.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Mingyu seems genuinely interested in your answer, and you reckon maybe time really has come and gone to a point where he doesn’t feel uncomfortable with the idea of you and Jungkook.

“I’m stressed, honestly,” you reply. You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip for a moment. “I can’t tell if it’s good or bad stress yet. But I’m excited to see him.”

“I’d say it’s good, then,” Mingyu reassures you.

“I hope so.”

“He’s been going nuts about it,” Mingyu tells you conspirationally. “It’s kind of funny.”

You gulp. “He’s told you about it?”

“Yeah. He asked for date suggestions in the group chat.”

It’s cute. It’s cute, and your heart quickens in your chest at hearing it. “Date suggestions, mmh?”

“Well, he said hang outs suggestions,” Mingyu precises. “But we all know it’s a date.”

You don’t say anything to that, losing your gaze in the water in your glass. Mingyu seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans forward, trying to meet your gaze.

“Do you not want it to be a date?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “It’s been a year. And yes, we had fun in Okinawa, but… I don’t know if we still have that spark, you know?”

Which is a full blatant lie. You know you still do, and you’ve seen it in his eyes in Okinawa, heard it in his voice the other day on the phone. You know it’s still there, but you just don’t know if you can date him again.

The baggage between the two of you just seems infinitely heavy. And you don’t know if you’d be able to carry it in a relationship. Especially not in a long distance relationship.

“Well, I hope tomorrow helps you figure it out,” Mingyu gently says after a stretch of awkward silence. “Jungkook really cares about you a lot.”

“I care about him too.”

And you do. You really fucking do.

“I know.” There’s another silence, and Mingyu sighs, glancing at the door. Like he’s hoping that Jennie will arrive soon, but she’s still nowhere to be seen.

She told you she’d likely be forty minutes late, so you still have a long time to go.

“By the way, I did want to talk to you about something,” Mingyu says.

You know exactly what he means, so you reply, “You’re right. We should talk about it. And–” he was about to talk, and he shuts his mouth as he waits for you to continue. “I want to apologize for never replying to your message. I didn’t know what to say, and then it was too long after and it felt like it was worse to say something then.”

“Honestly…” he trails off, his eyebrows moving closer on his forehead, a crease appearing between them. “I was glad you never replied,” he admits. “I said that when I was deep in my feelings, and I did need to say it all, but it was the worst time to tell you any of it. So for that I apologize.”

You give him a gentle nod. “I understand why you said it then, though. And I was never upset with you for telling me how you felt. I’m glad you did.”

“If it can reassure you, I’ve long since figured that what I felt for you was platonic,” he admits. “There was always a little maybe, but it never was more than that. And it hasn’t been more than that for a really long time now.”

“I’m glad,” you tell him, and your lips stretch into a small smile that he echoes immediately.

“In truth, I actually met someone,” he says, and the way his cheeks dust with pink is a work of art.

You’ve never seen Kim Mingyu flustered before.

“What?” you let out. “Who? How? You’re in the army.”

“She’s a nurse on the base where I’m doing my service,” Mingyu explains after laughing at your questions. “We actually know each other from high school.”

“No way.”

“Yeah.” He looks away, and he laughs again, the perfect picture of a man in love. “We dated in high school. We broke up when I debuted in the group I initially was a part of.”

“What!”

“Stop saying that,” he grumbles, but it’s all in good fun, like the smile on his lips tells you. “Yeah, we did. And it’s hilarious, ‘cause I cut myself–” he motions at a scar on his forearm – “and she did the stitches, and the whole time I was like, ‘holy fuck, it’s Im Daeun’.” He smiles to himself. “She was pissed. But we spent one of my days off together in September and now… now she’s my girlfriend.”

You don’t know how the friends you have in common never thought to supply that information to you. You feel like they should have, but then again, you were so busy catching up about other stuff that the conversation never turned to Mingyu.

And maybe a part of you was avoiding that conversation, afraid that they’d tell you Mingyu was upset with you.

“Only you would actually start dating during your military service,” you say, shaking your head slightly, though your lips are still curved upwards. “I’m impressed.”

“Why did Seungcheol say the same thing?” Mingyu asks, frowning cutely, his lips jutting out in a small pout. 

“Because you’ve literally never dated before,” you point out, snorting as he just shoots daggers at you. 

“Well, I dated Daeun before.”

“Right, right,” you let out. “Because you had one girlfriend in high school and never dated again.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You laugh together, and he sighs deeply after, his eyes shining from within. “Maybe part of me was just waiting for her this whole time.”

“Stop, that’s so cheesy” you tease him. “Where’s the fuckboy I used to know?”

“He retired,” Mingyu jokes. “And honestly, it’s all thanks to you. And Daeun, but I don’t think I would have been able to seriously date her if it wasn’t for the things you made me realize.”

You fall more serious, though the smile lingers on your lips. “Well then, I’m glad it helped. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” He grins his lopsided grin, and then adds, “She’s amazing, I hope I can introduce you both one day.”

“We’ll find time,” you promise. “Just get out of the military, and then we can plan a trip or something.”

“With Jungkook,” Mingyu says, and he smirks as you choke on your saliva, winking at you when you glare at him.

“You’re annoying.”

“Hey, I’m just hoping you guys work your shit out!” He opens his arms as if to prove his innocence. “I’m a romantic, now.”

You keep the glare on, but you do see the romantic in him. It shows in the way he talks about his girlfriend. It makes his eyes sparkle in a way you’ve never seen before, and you’re happy for him.

Happier considering the message he sent you last year. Because this whole time, you were feeling guilty. Thinking he probably was sad and grieving what could have been, but instead, he was building something with someone new. Or someone he used to know, that became new again. 

There’s love in everything Mingyu does and says today, and it’s a beautiful sight to see. Even when Jennie gets there later, and you ask her why she didn’t tell you. He admits he wanted to tell you himself, and Jennie tells him he’s stupid for waiting so long. It’s fun, the easy friendship the three of you have always shared not having changed at all despite the year apart, and you find yourself smiling wide as you’re returning to the hotel while the sun is slowly lowering in the sky, kissing the horizon when you finally reach your destination.

You’re excited for tomorrow. You see it with newfound hope after the conversation you had with your friends and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope. You allow yourself to hope and dream, and it makes you far happier than you’ve been in a while.

Because, what is wrong with hoping you might get it right this time?

Friday, November 6th

Jungkook is so nervous he’s been constantly wiping his clammy hands on his pants, and he reckons he needs to stop before he leaves a wet spot on the fabric.

Thankfully, his pants are dark, so it doesn’t show, but he’s so nervous he wonders if it’s actually a good idea to see you. His heart feels like it’ll explode, his blood pressure likely through the roof, and it makes it hard to breathe. 

He’s driving towards your hotel. You’ve agreed to meet in the underground parking to avoid paparazzi and the likes, which was your idea, and he’s so nervous he purposely drives past the entrance of the parking twice before actually turning into it.

As if that’ll lower his anxiety. It does nothing at all, and he wonders if he’ll have a heart attack upon seeing you.

He’s too much of a weak man when it comes to you.

He’s drumming his fingers on the wheel to the beat of an imaginary song – the playlist he put on when he left his house drove him crazy as he got closer to your hotel, so he turned it off a while ago. He’s waiting not too far from the elevator, and he swears he might die from all the anxiety.

What a way to go, though. To die because he’s nervous to see you. 

But then you step out of the elevator corridor, and his heart slows down in his chest, settling to a rhythm he’s grown familiar with whenever you’re around. You smile at his car, and he realizes he’s an idiot for not stepping out, so he rushes to get out of the car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he got for you on the way.

Your smile brightens as he steps out, and you brush a strand of hair behind your ear. You look so pretty, like a goddess in this underground parking, and Jungkook feels emotional. His chest fills with warmth, with the sum of his longing and yearning for you, and the feelings are so earnest, so potent he forgets how to breathe for a time.

“Jungkook,” you say as you stop in front of him.

Not hello. Not hey. No, you say his name, and he almost drops to his knees at the sound of it.

“Hey,” he replies, and then he smiles, adding your name. 

You look at the flowers, chuckling. He hands the bouquet to you, and you take it, smile widening. “These are going to die, you know that right?”

“Well, I thought they looked pretty, and they reminded me of you. So…”

“Wish I had a vase for them,” you whisper, and he watches as you breathe in the scent of the flowers. 

“We can probably get one,” Jungkook suggests, wishing he’d thought of it before.

“I’m leaving in a week,” you point out. “No need.”

The reminder that you are not here to stay is like a cold shower, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, nodding once. “Right.”

You’re still smiling when you meet his gaze. “Should we go?”

“Yes.” He walks around the car, opening the door for you to get in. You laugh, standing there for a time, and then you follow him.

“Didn’t realize you were such a gentleman,” you tease.

Is he doing too much?

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Just trying to make you smile,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a sheepish look on his face.

You don’t say anything to that, but you are still smiling, your eyes shining from within, and you’re genuinely so beautiful he wonders if he’s dreaming.

Once you get in the car, Jungkook shuts the door behind you, before walking around to get back in the driver’s seat. He then puts the address of your destination in the GPS, and you laugh as you read it.

“You’re taking me to Lotte tower?”

He pulls at his piercings. “I booked us a restaurant at the top. It’s a great view at night.”

“Oh, right.” You shake your head, chuckling again. “I’m dumb. Didn’t even think of that.”

He just smiles, not knowing what to say, and then he’s driving away, getting out of the underground parking to head to the restaurant. It’s already dark out, so you won’t get to see the sunset together, but you seem to enjoy the view either way, looking out the window as you cruise along the streets of Seoul, heading to your destination.

Jungkook puts music back on as he drives, and you nod your head along to the beat, seemingly far more relaxed than Jungkook feels. Because part of him can hardly believe that you’re right here, in his car. With him, in Seoul, for the first time in a year.

You got assaulted almost a year ago. He’s been dreading the one year mark, but you’ll still be here when it comes to pass, and if he plays his cards right, he reckons you might be together on that day.

It’s next Wednesday after all. 

“It’s a lovely night,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“It is,” he agrees. “We’re lucky it’s not freezing.”

“It might during the night, though,” you say. “That’s why I made sure to grab a coat.”

Indeed, you’re wearing an elegant jacket with a thick wool layer on the inside. It looks comfortable, almost like a large blanket, and Jungkook thinks he should have thought about a jacket, too.

But you’re not really going to be outside at all tonight. Unless you want to go for a walk after, but he has a feeling walks at night might not be your forte after what happened.

“Smart choice.”

This idle chatter is… unusual for the two of you. Though it reminds Jungkook of how awkward he was with you at the very beginning. How he never knew what to say, and always ended up saying the wrong thing somehow. And he reckons it might be a good thing for you to be back on those grounds.

You’d been able to build your way up from there, after all. Maybe you can do it again today. 

“So, do I get to hear the songs?” you ask, taking him by surprise.

“Right now?”

You nod, and he glances at you quickly before looking at the road again. “Yeah, why not?”

“Huh…” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs his phone, opening it with face id. He then goes to the files app, and he hands you his phone. “They’re labeled as demos,” he explains. “Just choose whichever you want to hear first.”

“There’s one called Okinawa Beach,” you muse, and the song that was playing on the radio stops, replaced by the first chords of the song.

It’s a somber song. A song of longing for a love that seems to slip through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold onto it. It’s born of how he felt in Okinawa that night when you walked on the beach, before you said you wanted to see him again while you’d be in Seoul. He’d felt like you were sand in the palm of his hand, and the melody for the song came naturally, elusive guitar chords mixed in with the sound of waves recreating the ambiance of that night.

His voice comes on, and he feels embarrassed for a time, much like he always does the first time he shows a new song to someone. But it’s you, and you were there that night, and he can see by the way your eyes glow more and more every time he glances at you that you, too, remember how it felt to walk on the beach.

The song comes to an end, or at least the singing does, and you listen to the waves and the guitar as he keeps on driving. It’s peaceful, a piece of that night in Okinawa blooming in the car along with you, and you lean your head against the headrest, glancing at him.

“I think this one is my favourite so far,” you whisper.

He laughs shyly. “You haven’t listened to the rest yet.”

“I don’t care,” you insist, shaking your head. “This is the one.”

Another laugh. “Okay, okay. Got it.”

You’re smiling wide, eyes shining just like the stars were shining that night, and then you look at the names of the other songs.

“Which of these have I listened to already?” you ask. “You showed me four songs already.”

“You’ve heard November, Moonja, Don’t Forget, and If the World Ends,” he replies. “There should be a bunch more.”

You nod, and you click on one of them. Jungkook waits for the track to start, and then he recognizes the beginning of the song Lips of Honey. It’s the most upbeat song of the album, and he can’t help but hum along to it as it plays, singing along with the chorus.

The song ends, and all you say is, “Adorable. Next.”

He snorts, and you go through the album like that, the whole six songs of it that you didn’t listen to yet, and then you end up playing Okinawa Beach again, your eyes on his profile.

“This is really the best,” you confirm. “I really liked…” You look at his phone. “Naenyeon and I Still Do. But this one is the best.”

Jungkook nods, touched that you’d choose this song. It’s his favourite, too. He’s thinking of making it a hidden track on the album, for fans to find as they listen through it. Because that moment with you was special, a little piece of a dream he’s been replaying in his mind every night when he falls asleep.

“But Jungkook,” you add.

You’re stopped at a red light, so he turns his head to look at you at the heaviness of your tone. “What?”

“Nightmare is…”

You don’t need to say it. It’s a rough song to listen to. It was the hardest to record, too, as he’d just keep bursting out crying every time he sang it. You can still hear it in his voice in the demo. He sounds raw, naked and vulnerable, and he’s not sure it’ll make it to the album, but it was part of his healing journey.

It needed to be out, and now it is.

“I know,” he lets out, holding your gaze.

You reach out, gently brushing his cheek. He wasn’t expecting it, and he freezes, up until a car behind honks for him to go. 

“I’m proud of you for making all these songs,” you say after a moment of silence. “This album will be very touching to a lot of people.”

But especially to you, he almost says. Because all the songs are about you in the end. But like you said in Okinawa, “Heartbreak is one of the most universal things there is.” He’s been thinking about making a variation of that sentence the title of the album, but he hasn’t figured it out yet.

And he’s in no rush to release anything for now. Especially not when the group is working on a mini album to release on the band’s anniversary next year, and so he’s also been having to record some stuff with them.

They’re going slow. Slow and steady this time, instead of trying to pump some music out right away after their service. It’s much less hectic, and much more appropriate to the kind of life they’re all wanting to live now.

Last year, Jungkook would have been horrified at the thought, but he too wants to settle down now. To focus on building a life outside of music, too. 

“I really hope so,” he says, playing with his piercings mindlessly. “But I want to try and make more happy songs for it,” he admits. “Because love isn’t just heartbreak, you know?”

“Of course.” You’re silent for a few heartbeats, long enough for him to meet your gaze. “In the end, heartbreak is just one of the phases of love.”

“Exactly.”

The conversation naturally ends there, and you’re surrounded by comfortable silence for a time, up until you finally reach Lotte tower. Jungkook’s made arrangements for the underground parking here, too, and he ends up leaving the car to the valet as a bodyguard is waiting to escort you both to the restaurant. 

You take the backrooms to get to the elevator, and then you’re shooting up towards the sky, up until you reach the upper levels of the tower. You’re so high it feels like you’re amongst the stars, and you look out at the city with awe in your gaze.

“You know, I’ve never been here before,” you admit, glancing at Jungkook over your shoulder. 

You’re standing in front of the glass windows that circle the tower, and though Jungkook’s never been scared of heights before, he’s almost afraid the window will break and you’ll fall. It’s stupid, as he’s aware this place is extremely safe, so he shoves down the fear, blaming it on his general nervousness.

He’s been calmer since you listened to his music in the car, but somehow, getting here reminds him of everything that’s come to pass between the two of you, and the insecurity in which you’re both standing in regards to what is going on between you now.

Is it the start of something new, or really just exes catching up?

You walk around for a bit, looking at the city from all the angles. Jungkook takes pictures of you when you ask him too, and you pose with a cute smile, eyes closed. You’re adorable, and his heart beats a little harder as he watches you, and even more so when you take your phone back from his hands, your fingers barely even touching his.

But it’s enough to send shivers skittering up his arms, and he swallows, almost gulping around a sudden lump in his throat.

“Let’s take a picture together,” you suggest, and you sound pensive, like you’re not even sure it’s a good idea.

Jungkook is quick to pull his phone from his pocket, though, and you end up taking a selfie with his phone high up so that you can see part of the city behind. You seem happy with it, sending it to yourself as you take his phone from his hands to look at it, and again the feeling of your fingers on his scatters his heartbeat to the wind.

How you can still have such an impact on him after so long is beyond his comprehension.

After that, you’re told your table is ready at the restaurant, and Jungkook leads the way, pulling your chair for you. You look around, frowning at the sight of the empty room, and you meet Jungkook’s gaze.

“Did you reserve the whole restaurant or something?” you ask. “Why is there no one?”

“I reserved the three floors, actually,” Jungkook answers sheepishly. “No one can come tonight except us.”

“Why did you do that!”

You sound flustered, your cheeks dotted with red, and Jungkook laughs.

“I figured we’d want privacy.”

“Oh.” You let out a small chuckle. “Right, that makes sense. But you’re crazy for booking the whole place. It must have been crazy expensive.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t think about it,” he reassures you. “I’ve got connections.”

“Of course, you do.”

You’re interrupted by a waitress bringing you the menu, and then you sit in silence as you both choose what you want to eat. You mention hesitating between a couple of meals, so Jungkook suggests ordering all of them to try them out. You laugh at his suggestion, only to see he’s serious.

“Gosh, Jungkook,” you let out, slightly shaking your head. “This is going to be expensive.”

“Y/n,” he says in a scolding tone, though he’s smiling when he says it. “You really don’t have to worry about it. I got you.”

You just hold his gaze, lips curved upwards, and then you nod. “Alright then, Jungkook. Get the fanciest items on the menu. Bet they have really expensive wine bottles, too.”

“You want wine?”

You nod. “I do not feel like this is the place to order a cocktail so, yes, I’d take wine.”

You end up choosing the wine, going for an option that’s a little more on the cheaper end but that you claim is good from having had it before. Jungkook trusts you – he’s never been too difficult with wine – and he’s glad he did, as the one you chose ends up being a lot more fruity than he expected.

“Wow,” he lets out. “This is good.”

“I know! But it’s dangerous,” you say. “It’s easy to get wasted with this wine.”

Jungkook laughs. “Imagine getting plastered in a restaurant like this one.”

“Looking down at the city like we’re on clouds or something,” you muse. “Like we’re Dionysus.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Really, Greek mythology?”

“I’ve been rereading the Percy Jackson series,” you admit. “So, yeah, Greek mythology.”

He laughs, way too endeared by you. 

The conversation flows naturally then, much easier than it was in the car at the beginning. Like you just needed a time to get readjusted to the feeling of talking to each other, and Jungkook is smiling and laughing along with you as you wait for the food. 

You chat about everything and nothing. He tells you about visiting his family in Busan, and you tell him about your brothers and their families. You talk about what your plans are for the book idea you’ve had, and you tell him you’re going to try and finish worldbuilding before you actually go into writing. You show him the map you’ve made for your world, and Jungkook whistles, impressed.

“This is really cool,” he lets out. “You’re amazing.”

You turn red. “Well, I just used an app. But… thanks.”

He smiles, loving the sight of you flustered. Especially when you meet his gaze after, and you just end up giggling lightly.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m just happy,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

And fuck, the things it does to his heart…

“I’m happy too.”

You get the food not too long after that, the array of dishes in front of you a little overwhelming. But Jungkook puts a little bit of everything on your plate, and you taste the food together. Everything is good, though Jungkook has a preference for the steak. You seem to really like it too, so he cuts it up for you, taking only a few pieces for himself.

“Have more,” you tell him.

“You like it.”

“Jungkook, don’t be annoying,” you scold. “Have some more meat. We both need it for the gains.”

He laughs. “I almost forgot you’re a gym bro, now.”

“A gym bro?” You snort when he nods. “I’m not a gym bro. A gym rat, maybe? But do I look like a bro to you?”

“Flex your arms,” he challenges.

You glare at him, but you still do so. And for a girl, your shape really is impressive. It makes you even more attractive to Jungkook, and he lets his gaze drop to the piece of steak on his plate.

“Yeah, a gym bro,” he teases.

“I hate you,” you grumble.

He looks up, his smile wide. “No, you don’t.”

You just keep on glaring at him, but then you break into a small laugh, slightly shaking your head. “You’re annoying.”

It’s said with a touching fondness that just makes his chest warm all over again. He wonders if you can see it on his face – are his cheeks dusting with pink like yours tend to do? He wouldn’t be surprised.

He really is a weak man when it comes to you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because, despite everything that happened, despite the pain he went through at losing you…

His feelings have never changed, haven’t they? As he sits across from you, they fill his chest, fill his whole body.

In truth, he thinks they fill his whole soul, too. Like he was an empty glass before, and you’ve poured water into him.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” you say when you’re done eating, just sitting at the table talking about everything and nothing.

“Mmh?” he lets out.

“You mentioned…” you trail off, your eyes falling to your empty plate. “That you hooked up a lot over the last few months.”

His heart hurts in his chest as he thinks about all the girls he used to try to get over you, failing miserably every time. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering… what was it like?”

“Honestly?” You meet his gaze, tilting your head to the side, and he hates the sadness passing in your gaze. “I was trying to get over you. And it never really worked. Most of the girls I only saw once, except one of them that I saw both in New York and Toronto because she was staying at the same hotel as we were.” He cringes internally as he sees you tensing, and your gaze falls away from his again. “But I didn’t care about any of them. I always felt miserable about it, too. It helped in the moment, I guess, but I felt worse waking up the next day.”

“Then why did you keep doing it?” you ask, and there’s no bite in your question. Just genuine curiosity, and Jungkook thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

“I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again,” he admits, careful with his words as he doesn’t want to hurt you again. “And it was hard. I needed to stop thinking sometimes, and sex worked for that. But like I said, it never really helped for more than a few hours, if even that.”

“That’s sad,” you whisper.

It is. He was sad, all those months. Longing for another moment with you, believing he didn’t deserve it.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Losing you was really hard. I was just trying to cope.”

“I struggled a lot, too,” you reveal, and he wants to reach across the table, to pull you into a tight hug. But he refrains as you add, “I tried seeing someone once. I had a panic attack and stood him up.”

“Oh, Y/n…”

“But I understand why you would use sex to try to move on,” you continue. “It works for a lot of people. I guess I was just wondering… if you felt a connection with any of them.”

He almost laughs at the idea. As if he’ll ever be able to have a connection with someone else again.

“No, I didn’t,” he reassures you. “It was never more than sex.”

“Even that girl you saw twice?”

“Even her,” he says.

He doesn’t even remember her name now. Like all the others, she was more a body than a person. Which he reckons is disgusting, but he was lost without you.

Part of him still thinks he’s lost here in front of you, too.

“Okay.”

You don’t say anything else, and Jungkook just looks at you for a time. You meet his gaze again, and you smile. He breathes a sigh of relief, before saying, “You really don’t have to worry about any of that, okay?”

“I just… feel weirdly jealous, I guess,” you admit, cheeks turning red, and you let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s stupid.”

It isn’t. In truth, it makes his mind spin to think you’d be jealous when you’re the one that ended things. His heart beats a little faster, and he has to take a moment to breathe before he replies lest he says something stupid.

“It’s not,” he gently says. “I get it.”

And he does. He genuinely does. To think you tried to go on a date… it makes him feel jealous, too.

You hold his gaze, and then you nod once. “Alright. Let’s just… not talk about that anymore.”

He chuckles, and you laugh along with him, and he’s surprised that the conversation hasn’t brought heaviness to the atmosphere at all. Instead, it seems like you feel relieved, and you’re lighter starting from then, like you shed a layer of heaviness that was clinging to you.

You order desserts, and you eat them with some more idle chatter, sipping your wine slowly. Seoul shines endlessly outside of the window, and Jungkook feels small as he takes in the world at your feet out there. As he takes in the light shining in your eyes, too, little sparks of reignited nostalgia and fondness appearing whenever you look at him.

He doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way that you do. The weight of your gaze is heavy, yet softer than a flower petal. It’s a weight he missed since last month, but also since you ended things with him back in February. Looking back, all the pain he felt over the year feels inconsequential. It feels unreal tonight, with you by his side. At the same time, it all feels worth it.

Every second of heartbreak is worth this moment with you on top of the world.  He’d do it all over again if it meant another moment with you, another minute under that watchful, shining gaze of yours. And as he sits there, he realizes he’ll never feel like this ever again. You’re the closest to heaven that he’s ever been, and maybe one day, when life ends he’ll find such peace again, but here on this Earth, you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel this way.

Back in Busan, his mother told him that there are connections that you get to experience once in a lifetime and, whether they work out or not, you never forget about them. And he feels peaceful as he looks at you, as he realizes he’ll never forget you no matter the outcome of tonight.

He wonders, will you ever forget him? Or has he ingrained himself in your memory the way that you have in his?

Even if it ends tonight, he hopes you don’t forget. There’s beauty in memories shared never to be forgotten. Even if they come to an end inevitably.

“Thank you for tonight,” you tell him once the evening does come to an end, and you just sit watching the city while sipping on the last of the wine.

He smiles softly. “Thank you. For giving me the chance to organize this for us.”

You mirror the smile, though your gaze falls to the city down below. To the glimmer of the Han river as it snakes its way through Seoul. To the hundreds and thousands of lights that shine like stars down there, and to the real ones that shine in the sky, though very few are visible from here.

“I’d stay here all night,” you whisper.

He takes that truth, hides it in a corner of his heart. “I would, too.”

Almost like a twisted prank of the universe, the bodyguard from earlier comes up to the two of you, clearing his throat. You both look over your shoulders at him, and he looks like he wishes he wasn’t there.

It’d be funny, if not for the words he says next. “I hate to be telling you this, but you will have to go soon. They need to close up for the night.”

Jungkook nods curtly. “Can we have five minutes?”

“Sure.”

The bodyguard walks away to give you privacy, and Jungkook’s gaze slides to yours only to find you already looking.

“You know,” you let out, your tone gentle. “I’m only leaving at the end of next week.”

Jungkook’s heartbeat picks up in his chest. “Yeah?”

You nod, though you remain silent for a while as you both just look at each other, entirely forgetting the beauty of the city outside. For a small eternity, it’s just you, your shining gaze and the soft lines of your face.

And then you say, “Do you want to come back to the hotel with me?”

*****

You weren’t sure what Jungkook would say to your invitation. You felt like you didn’t deserve him saying yes. Not when you were the one that pushed him away all those months ago. But the second you extended the invitation, he lit up from within, shining brighter than the stars and the city lights. 

So, you head back to your hotel together, fingers interlaced on the console between the two seats as Jungkook drives, humming along to the songs you’ve been playing.

You’ve been playing his album again, replaying your favourite song over and over again, if only to let the emotion of it sit in your chest along with all the other emotions you’ve been feeling tonight. His thumb is rubbing the back of your hand soothingly, and every time he stops at a red light or a stop sign, he looks at you like you’re the star he orbits.

It makes your heart race, your chest tighten with anticipation, and you want to collide with him. You want your orbits to clash together, even if all that’s left at the end is dust to be carried away on a cosmic wind. 

You get to the hotel, and Jungkook lets go of your hand to focus on parking. You just watch him as he does so, your eyes finding his hands as they spin the wheel, and you feel your cheeks burning.

He’s coming with you. You’re not letting him go, just yet.

You don’t even know if you’ll be able to let him go, at all. But then again… You live on the other side of the world. You might not be able to let him go, but the universe will do it for you.

Once Jungkook turns off the engine, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, until he says, “Let’s go?”

It spurs you both into action, and you get out of the car, heading to the elevator in front of which he picked you up earlier. Jungkook holds the door open for you to walk into the small room, and you press on the button to call the elevator before turning to face him again.

He’s looking at you, a pensive look on his features, and he extends his hand in the space between you like an invitation, and you interlace your fingers with his again. He pulls you closer, though he stops before wrapping his arms around you, as if to make sure you want it, too.

You don’t hesitate. You close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist as you lay your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and strong in your ear. Jungkook lowers his head, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, and your eyes flutter closed as you take in the sensation of his strong body against yours, again.

You missed this. You missed it so much, and you’re done missing it. You don’t want to miss him tonight. Not when you’ve spent so many months longing for him despite the distance, the heartbreak, and all the other obstacles that lie between you and him. They don’t matter anymore.

At least not for the next few hours. It might matter come dawn, but you’ll face it then, and then only. For now, you’ll live in the present.

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open, and you step away from Jungkook’s warm embrace to walk into the elevator. He follows you, grabbing your hand again, and he leans against the wall, looking at you as the doors slide close. You stand in front of him, looking up into his dark eyes, though they’re still shining.

It’s endless. The light in his eyes when he casts his gaze upon you is endless. You feel yourself leaning in, tiptoeing and he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a barely there kiss that still leaves yours tingling as he pulls away, leaning his head back against the wall.

And then he’s cupping your cheek with his free hand, and you instinctively lean in his palm, still lost in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “How can you be so beautiful?”

The elevator reaches your floor, the doors sliding open, and you lead him to your tiny room. You press in the code on the dial pad at the door, and it unlocks, the lock whirring softly. You open the door, stepping in, pulling Jungkook in behind you. He closes the door behind himself, leaning against it.

For a moment, you just stand there looking at each other. And then you clash. But it’s gentle, in slow motion, his hands grabbing your face and pulling you in. He kisses you softly, gently, like he’s afraid to break you, yet your heart goes wild in your chest, each beat longing for him.

For more of him, always.

So you kiss him back. Slowly, softly, getting lost in the eternity of this moment with him. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue, and you sigh, hands flat on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in your palm as it matches the rhythm of your own. Yet, despite your hearts racing, you still kiss slowly.

You have all night in front of you. And it seems he’s just as keen as you to take advantage of every second with you. He doesn’t want to rush things. It shows in the way he slowly undresses you, taking off your coat first. He pushes off the door, and then you’re kicking your shoes off, forgoing to put on slippers.

No, you’re too busy letting him push you back towards the bed. Though he stops to take your shirt off before you reach your destination, and you stand there with your lace bralette on, watching him as he watches you. As his fingers brush up your side, scattering goosebumps in their wake. His eyes are darker now, though they’re burning like embers as he takes you in.

“You really are beautiful,” he says then. “An angel, really.”

You blush, not knowing what to reply. Instead, you reply with actions. With pulling on the hem of his shirt, pushing it up until he takes the cue and takes it off, letting it fall on the floor along with yours. 

Now, it’s your turn to take in the sight of him. Of his hard muscles, and of his skin that glows like honey in the light of the lamp on the bedside table. He really is stronger than he was last year, having gained a good ten to fifteen pounds of muscles. It’s intimidating, really, though you still gently graze your fingers on his abs, going up between his pecs until you’re loosely wrapping your hand around his throat.

He gulps. You feel it in your hand, and you pull him down into a kiss. His pink lips are still just as soft as they were a second ago, but the kiss turns more languid, sloppier, his tongue exploring your mouth. You taste all of him, and the lingering taste of the wine, too. It makes your head spin, especially as he pushes you to the bed again.

You stop when your legs hit the side of it, and he pulls away from the kiss to look at you. Your hand has slid on his chest now, resting on his warm skin, and he grabs your wrist with the softest grip, pulling on your hand until he can leave a soft kiss on your palm. 

He’s beautiful, too. You might not have said it back, but he’s so beautiful right now, a strand of hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at you. It doesn’t seem to bother him, and when you reach up to brush it back, it just falls in his eyes again, so you let it be.

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Jungkook asks then.

You know what he’s referencing right away, and you give him a nod. “Yes. I want you, Jungkook. I’ve wanted you for months.”

His eyes shut like it pains him to hear it. But then he’s looking at you again, and you see so much love in his gaze that you can’t breathe for a time.

If this were your last day on Earth, you’d die happy. Because you feel known, here in his gaze. You feel seen like you’ve never been before, and it’s a feeling you doubt you’ll ever forget, even if tonight is the last night you get with him.

Jungkook opens his eyes, and then he gently pushes you back until you sit on the bed. You move back on it so you can lie down, and his gaze falls to your side. You see the moment he looks at your scars, and he clenches his jaw, his features turning hard. Insecure, you cover them with your hand, but he climbs on the bed next to you, pushing your hand away. And then he’s leaning in, pressing a soft kiss on the two scars.

Your eyes are wet when he meets your gaze again. He gently brushes your hair behind your ear, and he kisses you. 

You’re in love with him. Even after all the months apart, even after what you went through, you’re still in love with him. It makes you feel like crying even more. If he senses it, it doesn’t seem to make him want to pull away. He just keeps on kissing you, emptying your mind with every swipe of his tongue. Soon, your heart settles in your chest, the tears pass, and you hold onto his forearm.

This time, the kiss doesn’t stay soft and sweet. It catches fire, grows fiery in a way you can’t quite comprehend but that has always made sense between the two of you. It leads to him ridding you of the rest of your clothes before he takes his off, too. And then he’s kneeling between your legs, dick proud and tall as he jerks himself off, looking down at you.

You look down at him, too, take in the sight of the precum sitting on his slit. It glistens in the light of the lamp and, fuck, you can’t believe you made it back to him like this.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask.

He freezes, most likely because you’ve never worn a condom before, but after what he’s told you about the hooking up… 

You don’t want to risk it.

“Yeah,” he lets out, and he gets up to grab his wallet from his pants. He takes a condom out of it, and he tears the tinfoil package open before rolling the condom on. A few seconds later, he’s back to kneeling between your legs, and he says, “Ready?”

You are. You’ve been ready for a while now. So you nod, and he aligns himself with your entrance. He stops there for a time, gaze finding yours, and then he’s slowly pushing in, one inch at a time. It hurts, just a little. Most likely because you haven’t had sex in almost a year now. And so your mouth falls open on a pained sound, and Jungkook stills.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern interlaced with the words.

You nod. “I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re bigger than I remember.”

He smirks. “You can take it, baby. You’ve always taken me so well.”

The praise sends your mind in a spiral of lust for him, and you raise your hips, trying to get him to push in deeper despite the burning stretch you already feel. His hands find your waist, helping to hold you a little higher, and then he glances at the headboard. He seems to consider something for a second, and then he’s grabbing a pillow, putting it under your ass.

He’s quick to push inside of you this time around. It’s unforgiving, and you let out a broken moan as he fully sheaths himself in you.

“See?” he says as your walls clench around him. “I knew you could take me.”

“Jungkook…”

“I know, baby.” 

He bends down, kissing you deeply, and then he starts slowly fucking you. It’s deep, his hips hitting yours in a slap of skin every time, and you wrap your legs around his waist to feel him deeper. He groans, and you suck on his piercings.

“Fuck,” he curses. He leans his forehead against yours, never slowing down his rhythm. You just softly moan as he fucks you – as he makes love to you – and he says, “I can’t get enough of you. I can never get enough of you.”

And then he’s accelerating the rhythm. It feels good, infinitely so, and you moan his name. It makes him kiss you again, languidly, all tongue and lips and grunts and moans, and you get lost in him while he gets lost in you. He fucks you like that for a while, but eventually, he pulls out and flips you around.

He pushes one of your legs up, and then he’s fucking you from behind, too. His lips are on the side of your head, and then he’s biting at the lobe of your ear, prompting shivers to run up and down your spine. It makes your pussy clench around him, and he groans as he stills deep inside of you.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “Like your pussy was made for me.” He starts moving again, back to a slow and steady rhythm. “I just want to be inside you for the rest of the night.” He kisses your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this.”

You reach back, cupping his cheek. He kisses your palm once, and you feel so full of him, so full of emotions, of love and yearning and longing and everything in between, that you don’t see your high coming until it slaps you in the face.

You moan his name, and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you come. He fucks you slow and steady through it all, coming to a halt when he’s sure to have milked your high out of you. He lets you breathe for a time, and then he presses a kiss on your cheek before kneeling back.

“I’m going to come now, m’kay?” he says, and it’s all the warning you get before he starts fucking you rough, chasing his own high. 

You’re crying out under him, and it feels so good you think you might come again. You’d forgotten how good sex always is with him, and you grab onto the sheets as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier until he stills deep inside of you, groaning your name as he shoots his load into the condom.

His dick twitches inside of you, and you’re so sensitive that your walls pulse in return. It’s heavenly, and you’re swimming in bliss when he leans down to kiss your cheek again.

He slips out of you a few heartbeats later, and he lies down next to you, pulling you into his chest. He’s sweaty, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want him as close as possible, and you turn so that you can nuzzle your face in his neck. And then you lie there, limbs entwined, for a small eternity.

It feels like you’ve come home. After all this time, you’re finally home, and you hold him tighter, trying to pull him in even closer.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in a whisper as he runs his hand through your hair.

“Good,” you murmur. “You?”

You hear his smile in his voice when he says, “Better than I felt all year.”

You press a soft kiss on the mole on his neck. “Me too.”

A sweet eternity passes, the world outside paused for you and him. Jungkook rubs your back, tracing idle shapes into your skin, and you just breathe in the scent of him. You commit the feeling of his body against yours to memory…

Just in case. Because you never want to forget this moment in time. When you die, you want it to be the scene your mind decides to revisit one last time.

“Can we spend the week together?” you whisper against his skin.

Jungkook pecks the top of your head. “Yes. Fuck. Yes, we can. I’ll stay with you.”

You smile, holding him a little tighter.

And even if the week comes to an end, you know that this, this is it. A core memory was born tonight, and you hope he feels it too.

You hope the knowledge of it is shared between the two of you. One last thing to share before you go.

Before the universe decides if it’ll split you and Jeon Jungkook up, again.

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☆☆☆☆☆

i am very soft for these two and i love them so so much. let me know what you thought of this chapter here <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, October 5th

The waves lap at the shore, slowly, endlessly. Seagulls cry out in the sky up above, chasing each other across the vast blue expanse over your head. Their shadows chase them on the floor, eaten by the waves as they reach up to where you’re walking, the water fresh despite the hot day.

It’s your first time in Okinawa. You’d only heard of it in passing before, and in a song you’ve been listening to on repeat since you got here yesterday. It’s peaceful, much like the palm trees are as they sway in the breeze. The mountains in the distance loom tall and green, and you feel like you’ve stepped into paradise.

When Jennie called you on FaceTime two weeks ago to reveal that she and Taehyung got engaged, you did not know what to say. It felt sudden to you, but then again you haven’t been in Seoul since February. It feels like the lives of the people over there have been put on pause during your absence, but you’re aware it’s not the case.

Taehyung proposed to her over a romantic dinner the day he got home from the tour. Jennie said that he promised to love her every day of his life, till his heart gives out. It was romantic, much like something you’d write in a book, and the ring he got Jennie is…

Well, simply put, the ring outshines the sun in the sky up above. The rock that sits in its center is slender, surrounded by a group of smaller stones that just makes it sparkle like it’s lit from within. You didn’t expect it to be something Jennie would love, as she usually does not wear big jewellery, but she’s in love with it, so you love it, too.

When Jennie invited you to Okinawa for their engagement party, you considered claiming that you were too busy with writing a book. Which would have been a lie – you haven’t written anything since last year, though you’ve started thinking about what your next story could be. You’ve thought about fantasy, even though it’s a genre you’ve never written before. Maybe a fantasy world of secret societies that compete against each other to rule the world.

You don’t have much more than that, and so you couldn’t bring yourself to lie and tell Jennie you couldn’t come. Especially considering you haven’t seen her since she and Hyunseok helped you with packing your stuff at your apartment back in February. 

You miss her. She’s become one of your closest friends, and you have spent months missing her. So you said yes, and she sent you the information of the villa where you’re now staying, along with a message telling you that Jungkook said he would not come if you were there.

It hurt. To think that he does not want to see you, but you understood. You told Jennie to tell him you didn’t mind if he were to come, as Jennie and Taehyung have been his friends for much longer than you have, but Jennie never confirmed or denied if he was coming.

You don’t know what Jungkook has been up to since the last time you talked in February. You fully cut ties after that, even unfollowing him on social media, and your phone number has changed since you’ve moved back home, so if he tried to text or call, you obviously did not see it.

He still follows you with his burner account. You’ve checked while you were at the airport, waiting for the flight that was going to bring you here. And Jungkook was still there, and another quick search later, he’s still liking your posts, too.

Not that you’ve been very active on social media. You have put your online life on pause since you went home, needing to really disconnect with everything for a time. It helped tremendously, and you reckon you’ve made great progress in healing from your trauma.

It’s almost as if it never happened. But part of you doesn’t want to forget it did, so when a producer from Seoul reached out to say that they’d like to adapt your story to the screen, you agreed to meet with them.

You’ll be meeting them next month, and it’ll be your first time back in Seoul after so long. You don’t know how to feel about it.

The song that’s playing in your earbuds ends, and you look down at your phone to restart it again, the gentle voice and soft guitar chords filling your ears once more. And then you keep on walking down the beach, your sunglasses perched on your nose to protect your eyes from the sun. You push them up, as the sunscreen you’ve put on earlier has been making them slide down your nose constantly.

It could be annoying, but you feel so peaceful right now, lost in the paradise that Okinawa is, and you reckon you might come back here again some time. 

You’ve been walking for a while. Your goal was to reach the limit of the private beach, which you did not realize was so long, but you finally see the sign that indicates the end of the private beach and the start of the public one.

A lot of people are lounging on the other side of the sign, and you turn back around before any of them can recognize you, though you doubt people would actually recognize you here.

You walk back the way you came, following the tracks you left behind on the way to the sign. The waves keep on lapping at your feet, climbing around your ankles. It tickles, but it’s so damn peaceful.

You stop, facing the sea. For a moment, you just look out at the clear water, at the waves as they reach the island. You close your eyes, too, breathing the salty air in, your feet slowly digging in the sand as the waves keep on coming, relentless in their pursuit of the coast.

Your serenity is interrupted by your phone vibrating in your hand. You crack an eye open, looking down to see you’ve received a message from Heryung.

[2:37 pm] Heryung: you’re here?!?

You chuckle at the sight, and you quickly reply that you are, before resuming your walk back to the villa.

Originally, Jennie and Taehyung wanted to rent the villa in Jeju island where you stayed in August last year, but it wasn’t available under such short notice, and it was also too small to host all of their friends and family members. So they ended up renting this villa, though it’s more of a resort with multiple smaller villas.

You’re staying at the biggest one, where Jennie and Taehyung are also staying, but you’re in another wing along with Hoseok, Heryung and Jimin. The other members have another villa a little further away from the beach as Jennie and Taehyung’s family settled in the ones on each side of yours.

It’s nearly three o’clock when the first villa comes into sight, and you notice Park Seojoon and another actor you can’t remember the name of standing outside of it, rinsing their feet at the shower outside. The actor you don’t know notices you, and he offers you a polite bow that you return before he turns to reply to Park Seojoon.

The latter doesn’t see you, and you continue on your way to your villa. It’s nestled between two palm tree groves, with wooden walkways that lead to the other villas. A bird with a bright orange beak is walking in the grove, and it pauses as it catches sight of you, assessing you for danger.

You’ve taken a picture of it earlier, so you leave it alone this time around as you reach the two steps that lead up to the deck behind the villa. You climb them, heading to the sliding glass doors behind which you can see Heryung and Hoseok standing in the kitchen area. Heryung catches sight of you, and she waves enthusiastically.

You slide the door open, a gush of air conditioner hitting you in the face as you step inside. Heryung is upon you before you’ve even had time to close the door behind you, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Hey there,” she says. “I’m so happy you’re here.” She pulls away, still holding your shoulders as you awkwardly take off your Airpods. “I had no idea you were going to be here.”

“Surprise!” you let out, and she laughs.

Her eyes then go down your frame, and she whistles. “Girl, you’ve been working out.”

You have. You did even before, but when you returned home, you felt the need to busy yourself with something, to always be on the move. So you started working out nearly every day, and you now have the results to show it.

It was a good way for you to regain power over your own body too, as your therapist said. And it allowed you to decrease the strength of your meds, which you’re hoping to stop taking some time soon.

You’ve healed. You’ve healed so much over the months, and you think you’re lucky to have been able to reach such a calm state of mind, such a physique even after what happened to you.

“Yeah, five times a week, baby,” you reply.

She laughs. “Damn, I’m jealous. I wish I had thighs like yours.”

Hers are dainty, skinny, as her job as a model requires.

“Become a sportswear model,” you suggest. “I’ll go to the gym with you and get you those gains.”

She smirks. “I bet that gives you sick endurance in the...”

You roll your eyes, a light blush dusting your cheeks at the innuendo. In truth, you haven’t had sex since nearly a year ago, since the last time you and Jungkook had sex at his house before everything went down. So you wouldn’t know about endurance in the way Heryung means, but you do have good endurance on the stairmaster, if that counts.

“Doesn’t she look amazing?” Heryung says to her boyfriend over her shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n,” Hoseok greets you when you meet his gaze, ignoring Heryung.

“Hey, Hobi.”

Jennie appears at the bend in the hallway, and her gaze lights up at the sight of you. “You’re back!”

She walks over to you, looking behind her as if someone is following, though no one appears. She meets your gaze again, and then glances at Hoseok and Heryung. 

“How was the walk?” she asks as she stops next to you, and Heryung finally lets go of your shoulders to let her arms fall at her side.

“Great,” you reply, frowning in suspicion. “What’s up with you?”

“Okay so,” she starts, and then she shuts her eyes and winces. “Remember when I said Jungkook would not come?”

Your heart skips a painful beat in your chest as anticipation fills your ribcage. “Yeah?”

“Well, turns out he’s here.”

Your throat dries out, and you just stare at her for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.

“You said to tell him it was fine to come, and he never confirmed, but he…”

She trails off, because loud voices come from the hallway, and you recognize Jungkook’s laugh.

You’d recognize it anywhere. Panic grips at you as Taehyung appears first, followed by Jimin and, last but not least, Jungkook. You think your heart entirely stops pumping blood, and you don’t think you’re breathing as Jungkook catches sight of you, too.

He stops in his tracks, mouth half open like he was going to say something, and he closes it, blinking once. Jimin and Taehyung seem unaware of the fact he’s stopped, because they pour into the kitchen, talking loudly.

“Oof,” Heryung lets out.

Oof indeed. 

Jimin and Taehyung finally grow aware that you are there, and they both spin to look at Jungkook, who’s still just staring at you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to ease the tension that’s growing in the room, and he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement back, though he doesn’t smile.

He doesn’t smile, and if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve really been so good at healing, you think you might shed a tear. Instead, you look away, meeting Jennie’s gaze. She’s staring at you as if expecting something to happen, but when you just give her the same smile, her shoulders relax.

“Sorry for not letting you know before,” she mouths.

You shrug, and then you look back towards where Jungkook was standing. He’s moved to where Taehyung and Jimin are, and they start talking again, Hoseok joining them.

Your Korean has grown a little rusty over the months of disuse, but a few seconds of listening to their Satoori dialect tells you they’re talking about the flight over. You stop focusing on them, instead looking between Jennie and Heryung that are exchanging a gaze.

It’s awkward. This whole thing is really fucking awkward.

“He and Jimin are going to share a room,” Jennie says, and she scrunches up her nose.

Because that means he’s staying in this villa, too.

You kind of wish you could dig a hole in the sand outside and hide in it.

“Oof,” Heryung repeats.

You snort. You don’t know why you do, but you snort, and you reckon you’ll be fine. Despite the pain of how it ended, you and Jungkook are on good terms. And it’s only a week. You surely can cohabit for a week without anything happening, can’t you?

Tuesday, October 6th

Jungkook thought that seeing you again would hurt. He thought it’d push him back months in the progress he’s made since you ended things in February. And though seeing you did hurt, his heart straining in his chest uncomfortably, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

He still drank more than necessary last night, just to make sure he wouldn’t have a nightmare. Jimin drank with him, and they stayed up far later than everyone else, the sun already lightening the sky outside when they ended up crashing. And crashing they did, only waking up in the middle of the afternoon.

The villa is empty when Jungkook ventures outside of the bedroom while Jimin decides to stay in bed. He heads to the bathroom – the one he shares with Heryung, Hoseok, Jimin and you. He notices your toiletry bag, the same one you had last year, and a wave of nostalgia hits him as he turns the shower on, seeing your shampoo in there too.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk to you. To cohabit with you should be doable, but losing you hurt so bad, and he doesn’t want to go there again.

Hell, he reckons he might find someone to lose himself in like he’s been doing at every stop on the tour. Sex was a good way to not think about you for a time, until it became easy to see another girl and not wish it was you.

Sort of.

As he washes his hair, Jungkook’s eyes fall on your shampoo bottle. And he can’t help but wonder, have you been hooking up with other people too? A lump forms in his throat at the thought, and he clears it away, pushing you away from his mind.

He’ll likely see you again today. He does not need to be thinking of you. It’s hard not to, though, especially when he walks out to the kitchen once he’s done with his shower to see the juice you like in the fridge.

He pours himself a glass, and then grabs a fruit. He sits at the dinner table, eyes cast towards the beach outside, and he sees a group of people playing volleyball. He can’t see you, and he’s almost disappointed at the thought.

But it’s okay, he tells himself. 

He bites into his apple, the satisfying crunch filling the air around him. It’s juicy, sweeter than he expected it to be, and he wipes his chin as some of the juice drips on it when he takes a second bite.

The day is beautiful outside. The blue sky is empty of clouds, and he reckons he might go for a run on the beach if it’s not too hot. 

He eats as he watches the people playing outside, wondering where they got the net. Jennie is there, and she serves with precision, aiming right between Taehyung’s siblings on the other side. The ball falls in the sand, and Jennie highfives her teammates.

Jungkook spies Minha standing to the side, a hand on the swell of her belly. She and Seokjin finally managed to get pregnant during the summer, and they’ve both been glowing with joy and pride since then, their love seemingly renewed. It’s beautiful to see, though Jungkook has found he struggles with witnessing love in general now.

Most likely because his heart feels like it turned to stone after losing you. It was the only way to protect himself from the pain as he had to focus on the tour instead. He grew numb to feelings in general, and he’s been riding that wave since February.

He did try therapy, like you suggested he should. It became quickly clear that with the rhythm of the tour and the jetlag with Korea, doing therapy wasn’t really sustainable, though. And so he stopped after a few appointments, focusing on the gym and on the concerts instead. 

And then, in March, he hooked up with that first girl, and he started focusing on the sex, too. He also started drinking again, though never to the extent that he did last December.

He never wants to go back to where he was last December.

“Holy fuck,” Jimin says as he walks into the kitchen, hair dishevelled. “I feel like a truck hit me.”

“Good morning to you too,” Jungkook says with a chuckle.

Jimin squints his eyes at the brightness on the other side of the sliding doors, and then heads to the fridge, where he grabs a water bottle.

“I’m too old to drink like that anymore,” he says before opening the water bottle, downing half of it in one go. “Way too old.”

“You’ll survive, grandpa,” Jungkook teases.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Jimin’s threat falls flat as he sways, leaning against the counter. Jungkook just laughs at him, and then takes a bite of his apple.

“You should take a cold shower,” he says once he swallows. “It’ll get you right back up and running.”

“I’d rather shoot myself, thanks,” Jimin grumbles.

The sliding doors open, and both of their gazes turn to see you as you freeze there, looking between the two of them. 

Like yesterday, Jungkook is hit with a wave of nostalgia and pain at the sight of you. He lets it wash over him, tries to stay impassive, but it’s hard when you meet his gaze, and you offer him that same awkward smile as yesterday. He doesn’t bother to return it, instead biting into his apple, and your gaze drops to the floor as you step in, closing the door behind you.

“You guys are up late,” you say to no one in particular, but Jungkook foolishly hopes you’re trying to talk to him.

He immediately douses that hope with a fat dose of reality, because you’ve made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him last February.

“It’s his fault,” Jimin grumbles. “And I’m going back to bed before my head explodes.”

Jungkook watches him leave, and then glances at you again. You’re already looking at him, and his heart skips a beat in his chest. You smile once more, and then you push a strand of hair behind your ear.

This time, Jungkook mirrors the smile. It comes naturally, before he can stop it. It’s helped by the fact that it’s the first time you’re actually alone since last winter, and he also doesn’t want to make things harder for you.

“You cut your hair,” you comment, and Jungkook frowns, surprised that you would notice.

Indeed, he let it grow over the months of touring, but he got it cut shorter again before he came here, mostly because he knew he’d have trouble with supporting the heat if he still had long hair.

“Yeah,” he lets out.

You nod awkwardly, and your gaze drops to the floor again. Jungkook takes the opportunity to actually look at you, his gaze roving down your frame and back up.

You look amazing. Hell, you look like you’ve been putting work in at the gym, the muscles you had before having grown tremendously since the last time he saw you. You look strong, like someone to not fuck around with, unless one wants to find out how it feels to get punched in the face. It’s attractive, especially as you’re not wearing any shorts over your olive green bikini. You are wearing a shirt, though, and Jungkook thanks his stars because he definitely would have made a fool of himself if you didn’t.

As he looks at your face again, he sees you looking, but he doesn’t let it show that you caught him. Or at least he tries not to, taking another bite of his apple.

“The weather is amazing outside,” you comment. “You should come out before it’s too late.”

Jungkook nods. “Just going to finish eating this, and then I’ll go for a run.”

“You run?” you ask.

He tilts his head to the side. “Yeah.”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and then you look at the hallway. You seem to hesitate, and then you take a step towards it, before glancing his way again. “Well, I won’t bother you any longer.”

You don’t wait for him to say something before you’re walking away, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. The breath hurts, burns like he’s breathing water instead of air. Because talking to you…

It was a lot harder than he thought it’d be. Mostly because of the awkwardness, and of this feeling that you are just strangers now. But then again… his next breath fills his lungs with the realization that he did talk to you, and he survived. 

He’s moved on more than he thought he did. Or not enough, because he finds himself looking in the direction you disappeared, hoping you’ll come back so he can tell you that he’s glad to see you. 

His emotions are conflicting, and it’s far too frustrating for him to just sit there. So he quickly finishes eating, chugs the glass of juice, and then he heads outside, waving to the people that notice him before he runs down the beach, heading towards the horizon.

Hopefully, the run will clear his mind. And it does, but he reckons it’s all owed to how incredibly peaceful Okinawa is. Especially at this time of the year, when it doesn’t feel like the humidity is trying to replace the oxygen. And running on a beach, on the spot where the sand is wet from the high tide, is something he’s always loved, even though he’s only really taken a liking to run on the last months of the tour. But here, on the beach, he feels like he could run up to the mountains in the distance, though he’s forced to turn around when he realizes that there’s a public beach up ahead, filled with tourists.

He has no intention of getting recognized here, so he turns around, running back the way he came. And as he gets closer to the people playing volleyball, he sees that you’ve joined them.

You’ve taken the shirt off, too, and he slows down to a walk as he takes in the sight of you. You jump to try and block Lisa’s hit, but you’re small and your fingers don’t even reach the top of the net. It makes everyone laugh, but Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlight, like he’s suddenly been dumped in space, at the sight of the scars on your side.

You haven’t gotten the scars removed. He knew it, as the doctor reimbursed him even though he insisted that they keep the money, but seeing them standing stark on your sunkissed skin makes his brain zoom back to that night in November last year, and for a second, all he sees is blood and your eyes clouding over.

He’ll throw up. He’s going to fucking throw up, and Minha notices him standing there. Before she can say anything, he turns towards the sea and kicks off his shoes before jogging in the waves and diving in.

He stays under the water, eyes closed, as the waves pass overhead. It’s calm here, so calm he can hear the sirens in the distance. He can hear the doctor telling him to let go of your hand, and he sees you being wheeled away on that stretcher.

He thought you’d never come back. But you did, and you asked him to leave.

What a fucking mess.

He surfaces as his lungs are starting to burn, and he realizes he’s been pulled out at sea more than he intended while being under, the current stronger than he imagined it to be. But he’s always been a decent swimmer, so he doesn’t let it worry him as he starts swimming back to shore, up to a spot where his feet can touch the soft sand. He stands there, the waves crashing into him, and he looks at the horizon, at the blue sky and the sea and the seagulls.

The sun chases away the darkness of his memories, and the feeling that his heart was plunged in acid fades away, replaced by his familiar numbness. He clings onto it as he breathes.

He wasn’t expecting the strength of that reaction. Hell, he thought he was doing better.

He was just not expecting to see your scars. To be reminded that you almost died last year, and no amount of telling himself it wasn’t his fault was enough to convince him he was guilt free.

“Everything okay?” Taehyung says next to him, startling him as Jungkook didn’t hear him approach over the sound of the waves.

He glances at his friend. “Yeah.”

“You panicked,” Taehyung pointed out.

Jungkook looks back towards the horizon. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to say you’re okay if you aren’t, you know?”

Jungkook gulps, and they’re both forced to take a step back as a stronger wave splashes into them. “I know,” Jungkook says once the wave has passed. “For the most part, I am okay, though.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung lets out.

Jungkook nods. “Yeah. I talked with her earlier.”

“You did?”

Another nod. “It went well.”

Except he was awkward, barely even engaging with you, and he left on a run thinking it would help only to panic at the sight of you after.

“That’s good,” Taehyung says, and he sounds far happier than Jungkook is.

It’s hard to blame him, as he just got engaged to the love of his life.

“Are you going to try to talk to her again?”

He doesn’t know. Hell, he doesn’t know if he can without breaking down. Because even as he stares at the horizon, at the spot where the sea and the sky meet, all he sees is the pink and white scars on your side.

They look painful. And he knows they were. He knows how much you bled out that night, and he knows a part of him died with you on the ambulance ride, in the hospital after. He just wasn’t faced with it for months, and he had stupidly forgotten.

Now, he remembers. He remembers the pain, the fear, the excruciating wait with your mother. He remembers you telling him to leave, and then he remembers the drinking. Breaking down with Jennie, returning to the tour. Breaking down during the tour, too, seeing you the day after.

You ending things.

And maybe over the months, the sex and the alcohol and the concerts helped with chasing the pain away, helped with that numbness he felt, but his heart hasn’t forgotten what it felt for you, and being near you is awakening everything again.

It’s dangerous grounds to tread – what healed could break again, irreparably. And he’s so tired then, staring at the horizon, that he wishes a wave would just take him out at sea and leave him to die.

“Fuck,” he curses. 

Taehyung stares at his profile. “You don’t have to talk to her,” he carefully says, unaware of the spiral Jungkook’s mind just went down.

“I know.”

But he wants to. He wants to and he wishes you don’t. Because it really is dangerous grounds to tread, and he can’t afford breaking again. He barely got out alive last time.

“Just go with the flow,” Taehyung suggests. “She told Jennie she’s glad you’re here.”

And on that treacherous thread of hope thrown towards Jungkook, Taehyung leaves, not once looking back.

Conflicting emotions. Jungkook reckons it’ll be the theme of this week here, after all.

Wednesday, October 7th

You haven’t talked to Jungkook since that awkward moment yesterday. You think he’s avoiding you, and it’s been made clear when you all had dinner at the dining hall of the resort. You tried to ask him how his run was, and he just walked past you, ignoring you.

It hurt, and you decided not to reach out first again. You have to respect his boundaries, and he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You cried about it last night, after everyone went to bed, and you’ve been tired all day, falling asleep for a nap on the beach.

You’ve been tanning, not having the energy to play volleyball today, and Heryung and Minha have been staying with you, along with Namjoon’s girlfriend, who just got here today. Minji is her name, and she’s been very sweet, though much like Minha, she doesn’t speak a lot of English. So you’ve mostly stuck around with Heryung instead, as Jennie has been spending the day with her family.

So a nap on the beach it was, and you wake up feeling sore, your skin slightly burning. You blink a few times, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light until you see that clouds have gathered in the sky, looking rather menacing. You sit up straight to notice the girls have left, and where Heryung used to be, Jungkook is sitting.

His gaze widens when he sees you looking at him.

“You’re awake,” he states, as if it wasn’t obvious.

You close your eyes, rubbing a hand over your features. “Huh?”

There’s a short silence as you look at Jungkook again. He’s still staring at you, and you feel so confused by his sudden willingness to talk you wonder if you’re still asleep.

“It’s going to rain soon,” he says. “The girls went inside, but you were sleeping, so I said I’d stay with you and wake you up if it started to rain.”

Well, that explains why he’s here, and why you’re alone with him. Indeed, a glance behind shows that the beach has been vacated, and a strong gust of wind sends your hair flying around your head.

“Ah,” you let out flatly.

You make no move to get up, though, and neither does Jungkook. You both just glance at the sea, the churning waters way more aggressive than you’ve seen them before.

“Do you think there will be a storm?” you ask as the dark clouds on the horizon seem to be rolling towards you.

“Probably,” he replies. “Not a big one, though. We’re out of season.”

You nod, and another gush of wind carries a spray of salty water all the way to where you’re sitting.

“Guess I won’t get a tan today,” you comment.

Jungkook chuckles. He chuckles, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him chuckle because of you since way before February, and your heart stops in your chest.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and he offers you a small smile.

A truce it is, then.

Your chest fills with warmth, and you look at the horizon again. The storm doesn’t look so bad with him sitting next to you.

“How was the nap?” Jungkook asks, initiating the conversation for the first time since you got here.

“It was good,” you admit. “I haven’t been sleeping too well with the jetlag.”

“Yeah, a thirteen hour difference is brutal.”

It is. It was easier when you moved to Korea in April forever ago, but maybe that was just because it wasn’t for only a few days. You had so long to get adjusted to it that it didn’t really matter if you were tired at the beginning. Here, you’ve been trying to get up early, to enjoy the days as much as possible since you’re only here for a week.

“It is,” you agree with a sigh.

There’s a silence, and though you wish you would find how to fill it, it doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable as it could be. You’re just thankful he’s decided to talk to you, but you also don’t want to scare him away.

“How was the tour?” you ask him when the silence stretches for longer than it needs to.

“It was great,” Jungkook replies. “I’m glad it’s over though. Touring is exhausting.”

“I bet. It’s a lot of travelling.”

He makes a non-committal sound, and silence resumes around you, only interrupted by the sound of the wind and the waves. You think it might even be raining a little, but Jungkook isn’t moving, so you stay seated on your towel.

“How have you been?” he asks, and you glance at him.

He’s already looking your way, and your gazes connect in an embrace you got used to last year. 

More than a year ago, actually. The summer before his tour, when you were slowly falling in love unaware of what was going to come.

You’d give a lot to reconnect with the innocence of those days. With the excitement they carried, like you were young and infinite and nothing would ever take you down. How wrong were you.

“It’s been hard,” you admit, because you can’t lie to him when you’re looking into those doe eyes. “But I’ve been healing. I’m not as dependent on meds as I was initially.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He sounds genuine, yet there’s sadness in his gaze. Or maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe he too is remembering the months of you and him falling in love despite his busy schedule.

“What about you?” you ask. “How have you been?”

He clenches his jaw. A muscle feathers under his skin, and his chest goes up and down as he takes a big breath. “I’ve been slowly getting better.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, and his gaze moves to the ocean. “Tried therapy, like you suggested I should. But the schedule was too hard to sustain with the tour.”

You scan his profile, try to read the lines of his face like you did before, but he’s changed. So much. He’s… gotten big over the months apart, gaining his weight back and then some. But he seems more serious than he used to be. Like he’s always deep in thought, which you reckon might be the case when you’re around.

You’re practically exes after all.

“But I found ways to get my mind off things,” he adds. “It’s been working well.”

“I’m glad,” you gently say.

He chuckles, his head hanging low as he stares at the sand in front of his feet. There’s something condescending in that chuckle – it’s unlike the one from earlier, and you can’t help the way a frown slowly overtakes your features.

“What’s funny?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

The frown remains as you look out at the sea, and a fat drop of water lands on your knee. You look at it, wiping it absentmindedly.

“It’s raining,” you let out.

“Yeah.”

But still he doesn’t move, so still you don’t, either.

“What helped you with healing?” Jungkook asks.

Not expecting the question, your frown falls.

“I think it’s mostly the distance,” you admit. “Being so far from what happened, physically, helped. And then the support that my parents gave me, and the therapy. Things like that. But also just… time helped.”

“It hasn’t even been a year,” he states.

“It’ll be a year next month.” You worry at your bottom lip, because the way he said it makes you think of the guilt you feel around your trauma. Around the fact you’re not as traumatized as you believe you should be. But trauma works in mysterious ways, like your therapist said. It’s better to be thankful about it than resentful that you weren’t more affected by what happened.

Though you reckon the anxiety has been a lot to deal with. And you haven’t been able to be alone outside at night since then, but it’s not like you actually needed to. The true test will come when the sun will be setting way too early in the months to come.

Only then will you see if you’ve truly healed as much as you tell yourself you have.

“I’m glad you’ve been better,” Jungkook eventually says. “That it… didn’t leave a lasting impression on you.”

He says it awkwardly, and you throw him a look, the corners of your lips curved upwards. “That it didn’t traumatize me too much?” you ask.

He winces, meeting your gaze for half a heartbeat before he’s looking at the sand again. “Yeah, kind of.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I’m glad too. I’m lucky I didn’t develop PTSD.”

Jungkook meets your gaze again, though he shies away from it just as fast as a few more drops of rain fall around you, creating tiny craters in the sand.

“You are,” Jungkook agrees. He finds a small rock in the sand, and he throws it in the water. 

“And what about you? What helped you?” you ask when the conversation stagnates there.

“I don’t think you want to know,” he replies, mysteriously, and he throws another rock.

It fully starts raining then, but it’s been so hot and humid today that it just feels refreshing.

“Well, I asked the question, didn’t I?” you tease, but he doesn’t even crack a smile. You frown, and then add, “What, you went for sex and drugs?”

He throws you a look that makes you want to disappear, the truth written all over his face.

“Ah,” you let out, your heart dropping in your chest.

“Not drugs.” Another rock thrown at the sea. “Just sex.”

He was right, you did not want to know.

You get up, grabbing your towel as the rain doubles up, turning into an aggressive shower. 

“Told you,” he says bitterly as he remains seated.

“I’m glad you’ve been fucking,” you say, a lump forming in your throat.

You don’t even know why. You were the one to want to break up, if you can even call it that. He was allowed to seek sex with whoever he wanted after that.

“Yeah, me too,” he replies. He pushes up, meeting your gaze as you just stand there, clutching your towel to your chest. “It was meaningless.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

You glance at the waves, at the dark clouds and the lightning streak that cuts across the sky before a loud boom resonates around you, made louder by the echo on the sea.

“I thought we were having a conversation,” you say, and you push your hair back.

The rain is pebbling at your skin by then, so strong it feels like you’re standing under a pressure hose. 

“We were,” Jungkook says. 

“Okay.”

You turn around, and you start walking up the beach towards the villa. Jungkook stops you, grabbing your wrist. The feeling of his fingers on your skin makes lightning skitter up your arm, much like it skitters through the clouds.

“We need to get in,” you practically yell as you turn around. “It’s not safe out here.”

“Don’t be upset,” Jungkook says, ignoring what you just said. “It was just sex.”

“I got it, no need to repeat it.” You attempt to walk up to the villa again, but Jungkook stops you again, making you stumble closer to him.

“Why are you upset?” he asks.

You aren’t. Or at least you wish you weren’t. But you’re crying, your tears mingling with the rain, and you wish you’d be anywhere on Earth right now rather than next to him.

“I’m not,” you still choose to say. “It’s just fucking weird to talk about that!”

“You’re the one that asked!”

You’re both yelling now, partly because of the loudness of the storm, but also because of the emotions lashing at your hearts.

“I did not think that would be your answer, okay? You made it seem like you weren’t going to be able to move on. I’m just surprised you moved on so fast.”

You haven’t even been able to consider sex with anyone else, and you were the one to decide to end things.

“So you haven’t been fucking other people?” Jungkook throws back at you.

“No?” you yell. “I’ve been healing, not trying to avoid healthy coping mechanisms.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. It reveals the tall column of his neck, and you remember days of sucking on his Adam’s apple.

“That’s rich coming from you,” he says. “You just ran and pushed away everything that reminded you of November.”

“Maybe I pushed you away because you fucking lied to me to see your ex, huh? Ever stopped to think about that?”

“I apologized a hundred times for it,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl. “I’ve hated myself for it ever since it happened, and you didn’t even give me the grace to listen. You just ran like a coward.”

“Don’t call me a coward when I’m the only one that did the work to try and heal,” you spit back at him. “I did not use sex as a getaway. I did my therapy, did my homework.”

“Try to go on tour when the person you’re in love with gets assaulted and then dumps you. We’ll see how well you’ll cope.”

He’s stepped closer. He’s looming over you, water dropping from the wet strands of hair in front of his eyes. It falls on your face, but you stand your ground. 

“I bet I’ll cope better than you did,” you snarl. “You’re so fucking upset about it months later. Clearly the sex did not –”

Jungkook is upon you. His hands cup your cheek, pulling you into an angry kiss, and you freeze for a few seconds, eyes wide open before you push him back hard. He stumbles a step back, his shoulders going up and down rapidly, and you just stare at him for a few heartbeats as thunder rumbles in the sky above. Then you turn around, storming towards the villa.

He doesn’t stop you this time. When you reach the deck, you glance over your shoulder to see he’s still standing out there on the beach, rain lashing at him.

He’s not looking at you, so you walk into the villa without another glance back.

Thursday, October 8th

The storm from yesterday turned into rain that kept on well into the night. 

When Jimin woke Jungkook up from his nightmare earlier, Jungkook knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep even though the sun hadn't risen yet. So he told Jimin that he’d just get a glass of water, but he’s on his second glass of whiskey now, sitting in the living room of the villa, watching the TV on mute.

He doesn’t care for the show on the screen. He feels sick, and he knows it’s because he fought with you earlier. He can hardly believe the things he told you in the heat of the moment, and he’s been considering booking a flight and leaving before you get up just to avoid having to face you.

When he walked into the villa after you did yesterday, you were already locked up in your room, and Jennie and Heryung were glaring at him. So he went and locked himself up in the bedroom he shares with Jimin, too. He didn’t even go out for dinner, Jimin bringing some food back from the dining hall for him instead.

He barely even ate. Didn’t even reply to Jimin when he asked what happened between you and him. He couldn’t talk when all he could think about was you, and how he just majorly fucked up. 

He’d meant to try and talk to you, to test the waters and see if there was a possibility you could reconnect. But there’s a world of differences between you and him now, and when you said you’d healed and moved on like it was nothing, Jungkook took it personal.

Because he didn’t. He never did. It’s still all about you after all this time. Even the fucking – it’s just to escape all the thoughts of you. And he got so jealous that you were doing genuinely better…

He’s a horrible fucking person. 

But he thought about you all night last night, as he was editing some songs he’s been working on. You were on his mind when he went to bed at the same time as Jimin did, if only because he didn’t want to bother Jimin. So it’s no wonder the nightmare caught up to him, no wonder he was thrashing in the sheets so hard he punched Jimin in the face.

Jimin was pissed, too sleepy to truly understand what was going on, so Jungkook got up.

He stares at the ice at the bottom of his glass, twirling it. It clinks on the sides of the glass, the amber liquid sloshing around. He takes a sip, and the whiskey burns on the way down, but it doesn’t do anything to the rawness he feels in his throat and in his lungs, like he was screaming in his sleep.

He doesn’t usually scream when he has the nightmares. But maybe, after fighting with you…

He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and leans back against the couch. He’s such a fucking mess. It’s embarrassing, really. 

He hears the scuffle of feet on the ground, and he straightens, looking over the back of the couch to see you appear in the arch that separates the living room from the hallway. You catch sight of him, your eyes going round, and you make to retreat.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, his heartbeat skyrocketing at the sight of you.

Of you, safe and sound and breathing, with no blood tainting the white t-shirt you’re wearing.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he adds quickly.

You still, halfway turned. And then you glance at him, and he wishes he could read your features like he did back then. But you’re closed off now.

He deserves it.

“What are you sorry about?” you ask, your voice colder than the ice in his glass.

“I did not mean what I said,” he explains. “I was just jealous.”

You frown, and you face him fully again, folding your arms on your chest. “You were jealous?”

He nods, sucking on his piercings. And you seem to believe him, because you walk into the living room, sitting at the end of the couch, so far away from him it feels like the Pacific lies between you and him.

“I’ve been miserable,” he admits. “I haven’t really gotten better. It just… it hurt to see you were doing better. That you healed. When I’m still stuck back then.”

He hasn’t told anyone this before. He blames it on the fact he’s exhausted, it’s the middle of the night, and he’s two drinks in already. But your frown falls as he talks, replaced by pity. He hates it, prefers the frown over the pity, but it’s too late.

The truth is out.

“You really need therapy,” you whisper.

He glances at the TV, and at the ad on the screen that makes no sense without sound on. 

“I know,” he replies. “I’m planning on starting again soon now that the tour is over.”

He wasn’t, actually. But after that fight with you, he figured he needed it. And you are right – he needs to stop pursuing unhealthy coping mechanisms like sex, no matter how much it helps. Because it only helps for a few minutes before reality settles back in.

“That’s… good.”

You don’t say much more, and he doubts he deserves more anyway. Not after what happened yesterday. 

You both sit in silence for a minute or two, and Jungkook finishes his whiskey, putting it down on the coffee table in front of him. And then, unable to resist, he glances at you. You’re staring at the TV, but you meet his gaze when you feel his eyes on your profile.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks.

You wet your lips, turning your head back towards the TV again. “Couldn’t sleep. I…” You glance at him, and he balks at the silver in your gaze. He wants to reach out, to dry your tears, but then your next words make him freeze. “You were screaming.”

Ah. So that indeed explains the rawness in his throat. He faces forward, unable to hold your gaze anymore.

“Sorry about that.”

“You still have nightmares?” you ask.

The TV blurs, and he blinks away the tears. “I told you. I haven’t really gotten better.”

“Jungkook…”

A tear rolls on his cheeks, and he does nothing to dry it. “I still dream about it every night.”

Except when he just fucked, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, not when it led to that fight yesterday.

“There are meds for that,” you gently say.

He knows. He knows, because you told him about them last February. But he never got around to seeking to get them prescribed. Not when the only place he could visit you was in his dreams.

“You don’t need to pretend to be strong and that you don’t need those meds,” you add, as if that is the reason as to why he doesn’t want them. “They would help you.”

“You know what helps?” he lets out, meeting your gaze. 

You don’t say anything, just give him a small nod of your head.

“It helps to see you,” he says. “To know you’re doing great, and that you’re healing. That I’m the only one stuck back in that alley. It doesn’t seem like it’s helping right now, I know, but it will help.”

He hears you take a sharp inhale of breath, and then you’re getting up, sitting back down right next to him on the couch. You’re so close he can see your eyes shine as you blink away the wetness gathering in them.

“And I’m doing great because of therapy… Therapy really does help, Jungkook.”

He shuts his eyes for a few seconds before looking at you again. “Listen, I don’t want to think about therapy right now. Let me just look at you for a moment.”

You gulp, nodding your head once more. Giving him permission to stare unashamedly, and he does. He looks at you, remembering days where such a look between the two of you would lead to you straddling his lap and kissing him like your life depended on it. It’s strange to believe that such passion came and went, that you won’t ever share a moment like that again when he still feels that pull for you so deep in his chest.

“You’re alive,” Jungkook whispers.

He doesn’t know where the words come from. They came on their own, fell from his lips without him realizing he was going to talk, and you smile, your eyes so sad, grabbing his hand. You put it on your chest, between your breasts, and he feels every single of your heartbeats under his palm.

“I’m alive,” you confirm. “I’m alive and safe.” Your smile grows a little larger as you hold his hand in place. “And I’ve been taking self-defense classes, too.”

He glances between your two eyes a few times. You’re so close he sees the pores under your eyes, on your cheeks and on your nose. They look so perfect in the white cast from the TV, so natural, and he reaches forward with his free hand, brushing his fingers on your cheeks.

“You have?” he murmurs. 

You nod. “I can defend myself now. My mother took the classes with me, and we both can beat ass now.”

He smiles. He remembers your mother – she was a saint, a gentle soul that he immediately liked, and he’s happy that she’s been there for you like she has. 

You have an amazing mother.

“That’s great.” And he means it. It must have helped so much with you feeling safer after what happened to you.

“It really is.”

You fall silent, and your gaze drops to his lips as he plays with his piercings. You furrow your brow, like you’re upset about it, and you let go of his hand. He pulls it back, though he still feels your warmth on his palm when he drops his hand in his lap.

The small frown sticks on your features though, and he wishes he could erase it. Wishes he could see you smile again, hear you laugh again.

That would help with the nightmares, too. But it’s too much to ask for, isn’t it?

“What else have you been up to?” he asks.

The frown thankfully dissolves, and you tilt your head, leaning it against the couch as you look at him. “Not much, honestly. I’ve been reading a lot, but I haven’t written since before everything went down.”

“Do you still want to write?” he asks.

You look away, eyes glossing over as you get lost in thought. “I think so. I might do a fantasy series next.”

“A series?” he lets out.

You nod, meeting his gaze again. “Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of commitment.”

“It is,” you agree. “And honestly, I just have the basis of a setting so far, so I don’t even know if I’ll ever get around to it one day. I don’t even know if I have what it takes to write fantasy.”

“Why not?”

You pout, scrunching your nose up. “I feel like fantasy takes so much more work than romance, or even mafia stories. Since you have to create a whole new world, and give magic laws to it and all.”

“You don’t necessarily have to create a whole new world, no? Twilight was not in a whole new world.”

You snort at his reference, and the sound wraps around his heart, warming it gently. “Yeah, contemporary fantasy is a thing. But I just… I really don’t know if I’d be able to write it. I usually do romance, and even my last book was far from my usual style.”

Jungkook knows. He saw the comments about it all over your social page.

“And why don’t you write your usual style?”

You sigh, and it sounds heavy, resigned. “I think I’ve lost my interest in romance.”

He hates the way his heart breaks at hearing you say that. You used to talk about it with stars in your eyes, but after everything you went through… He understands why romance might not be of interest to you anymore.

“That’s unfortunate,” he replies.

You shrug. “Honestly, it started way before…” you trail off, making a vague encompassing gesture with your hands. “That’s why I was writing a mafia story. To have more than just the romance aspect, you know?”

He nods.

“And I think maybe I could do that with fantasy, too,” you continue. “I used to read it a lot as a kid, and I’ve been rereading some of my favourite series lately and I just feel like it could be fun to write it, too.”

“Then you should,” Jungkook encourages you. “I’ll read it.”

You chuckle. “You don’t read.”

“I promised I’d read your books, though,” he points out with a smile. “I meant it.”

He did. He promised in February, and he bought all of your books and carries them with him everywhere. He just hasn’t gotten around to reading them yet.

He didn’t feel ready. But he reckons, after tonight, maybe he’ll finally be ready.

“Well then, I’ll put easter eggs in there for you to find,” you tease. “I’ll quiz you about them to make sure you really read.”

You’re talking of a future. A future in which you and him are… in  good terms enough for you to quiz him about your books. And maybe such a future could be possible. Not one where your lovers like you were before, but maybe…

Maybe you could be friends. Jungkook reckons he would love that.

“Hopefully, the easter eggs will translate in Korean,” he says with a wince. “I don’t think my English is good enough for that.”

“What do you mean?” you say, eyes widening in surprise. “Your English is amazing.”

“Thanks.” He chuckles, wetting his lips. “I can speak just fine, I’m aware, but reading? I don’t even read in Korean.”

You laugh. It’s a clear sound that takes him way back, that reminds him of how awkward he used to be around you. Hell, he could barely even hold your gaze at the beginning, like his body already knew to expect pain when it came to you.

Maybe he was trying to protect himself instinctively.

But hearing you laugh tonight, after the fight you had yesterday… It’s so fucking healing he could cry. And he almost does, silver growing on his waterline, but he’s quick to blink it away. He doesn’t even think you notice, especially not when he’s smiling when you meet his gaze next.

“I am touched you’re going to read my books, then,” you say. “I feel special.”

You are. You are so fucking special. The one that got away, and all that.

“Can I show you something?” he asks out of the blue.

He’ll serve you his soul on a platter tonight. It feels like the night for it – he can see it in the wrinkles around your eyes as you smile.

“Yeah,” you say.

He can’t resist his own smile, and then he’s getting up, heading to his room. He sneaks in, making sure not to wake Jimin again, and he grabs his laptop and headset where he left them earlier. And then he walks back to the living room, finding you sitting with your knees to your chest in the spot where he left you.

He sits back down next to you, opening his laptop. You watch curiously, and then he hands you the headset. You take it, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“What do you want to show me?” you ask.

“I’ve been writing some songs,” he says. “I’ve spent the last two weeks recording some of them. It’s not much but…” He only realizes then how naked he’s about to be in front of you. But it’s 4:44 am, and it’s the perfect moment for it. Because he’ll probably never have the occasion in the future. “I want to know what you think of them.”

You nod, giving him a small smile as you put the headset on. It’s too big for you, and Jungkook chuckles, helping you to adjust it to a smaller setting before he looks at his laptop again.

This music… It's different from what he’s done before. It’s guitar and voice only, with no drums even though he’s famous for being a drummer. He doesn’t know yet if he’ll ever release it, but it needed an out over the last few months.

Writing and music are better coping mechanisms than sex, he reckons. Maybe he should have led with that yesterday instead. It would have saved you both the fight in the rain. And saved him the embarrassment of trying to kiss you only for you to walk away.

He pushes the thought away, not wanting to think about that fight anymore. Not when you’re right next to him, about to listen to music he wrote about the months with you.

About the months after you, too.

He starts the first song, and he watches the timer advancing on it, unable to look at you. No, he feels self-conscious suddenly, like he truly is naked in front of you, and he’s afraid of what you’ll think.

What if you get mad at him again? What if he lost you so thoroughly that hearing those songs makes you run?

But it’s too late to go back now, and when the first song finishes, he says, “There are three more, if you want to–”

“Yes,” you interject before he’s even finished talking. “I want to.”

He chuckles, and it sounds a little choked from the lump in his throat. You don’t seem to notice, too busy waiting for him to start the second song.

You’re crying by the time that one ends.

“You don’t have to listen to the rest,” Jungkook says, slightly alarmed. He looks around, trying to find tissues, but there’s nothing to dry your tears. 

“Put the next one on,” you insist.

He feels like crying, too, but he obeys, pressing play on the next file. That one makes you smile, but tears still roll down your cheeks. You dry them with the back of your hands, and Jungkook just watches you carefully.

“The fourth…”

“Jungkook, just play the song,” you admonish, and he laughs, pressing play.

When the song ends, you take off the headset, putting it down on the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, waits for you to say something, and you just wipe your cheeks in silence before chuckling.

“Those songs are beautiful,” you say, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know you played the guitar.”

He gulps around the lump in his throat. “Why do you think I have guitars at home?”

“I don’t know, in case some of the other members of your group would want to record at your place.”

He shakes his head. “No, I play all the instruments I own,” he says with a small laugh. “You really think the songs are beautiful?”

You point to your face. “My crying didn’t make it obvious?”

He takes a deep breath. “Well, you could be crying because it’s horrible,” he points out. “I used to cry when people would scratch their nails on the chalkboard in school.”

“You’re an idiot,” you let out. “A fucking idiot.”

It does not sound like an insult. It sounds like some other words he would have loved to hear in another life.

He wrote a song about it. You listened to it, and called it beautiful, and you’re looking at him with so much admiration in your eyes he reckons it doesn’t matter if he never hears it in this life. 

In this life, he got to experience a love so strong it didn’t change through the months apart. A love so strong it doesn’t need to be reciprocated for him to cradle it in his heart. Though it might be sad that he lost it, and didn’t get to share it with you, that love is the most beautiful thing he’s ever experienced, and he’ll always be thankful that he got to experience it with you.

It hurt. It really fucking did, but tonight, sitting next to you, it doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore.

“So you like them?” he asks.

“I’ve always loved your voice,” you reply. “With just a guitar track like this, it really shows it… better? Your fans are going to love this. Bet it’ll make its way to a lot of crying sesh playlists.”

“Ah,” he lets out as he scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks burning. “I am not planning to release any of this.”

“Why not?” you ask. “It’s beautiful, Jungkook. The world deserves to hear it.”

“But it’s…” He holds your gaze, once again gulps around that stupid lump in his throat. “It’s too personal. I don’t know that I want everyone in the world to know how I feel, you know?”

Your eyes turn sad, and you reach up, thumb drying a tear he didn’t realize had spilled on his cheek. “You’d be surprised at the amount of people that can relate to this.” Your lips stretch in a smile that holds the weight of the universe. “Heartbreak is one of the most universal things there is. Love and heartbreak are.”

You’re right. Of course you are.

“You really think I should release it?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Definitely. I know listening to it will be good inspiration for me to write, if I ever start writing again.”

“What about this? I’ll release it if you promise to start writing again,” he suggests.

You chuckle. “Well, it’s a given that I’ll write again some day,” you point out. “So you better release this soon.”

Fuck. 

“Right.” He chuckles, slightly shaking his head in defeat. “Well, I guess I will have to release it when it’s ready then.”

You smile victoriously, your eyes shining like they used to last year and you’re so fucking beautiful it steals the breath from his lungs. “Bet.”

He’d kiss you. He’d kiss you right now, but he knows he can’t. Not anymore. And though it does hurt to think that he won’t get to love you in this life like he spent so long wishing for, he feels at peace with it.

Healing really did start here tonight, by your side. Because it was always about you, after all.

Friday, October 9th

The reception hall for the party is beautiful. Lavishly decorated, and as you stepped in earlier, you wondered if Taehyung and Jennie are actually getting married today, or if it really is just a party to celebrate their engagement.

You’ve never seen people go all out like this for an engagement, but Jennie is your only celebrity friend. Maybe they just do it differently. Or maybe she’s just extra.

You think it has to be the latter.

The room is decorated with flowers that scream tropical island, with large petals glowing from red to orange to yellow, and their perfume is gentle and sweet, floating throughout the room. There are strings of fairy lights hung to the ceiling, with colourful garlands entwined, and there’s a huge table with a mountain of food in a corner.

Most of all, the room has no walls, and the breeze dances amongst the guests, playing with your hair and your dress as it blows. Tall vases with dark green leaves also decorate the space, and you’ve seen more than one of them almost falling, though so far none have been destroyed.

You think it’s just a matter of time. With the champagne fountain next to the food table, people are bound to get drunk. Especially when they play bangers after bangers, and everyone is on the dancefloor, smiling and singing and dancing like there is no tomorrow.

The night feels infinite. You feel young, restless, and though you did dance for a while, you’ve just been sitting with Minha and Minji for almost an hour as they chat away about their jobs back home.

Turns out they’re colleagues, so you’ve been feeling a little left out of the conversation, but it doesn’t matter. 

No, your spirits have been high since yesterday. Since you woke up on the couch, your head in Jungkook’s lap while he snored with his head leaned back. It looked uncomfortable, yet he pretended his neck was fine when he woke up, but you’ve noticed him rubbing it multiple times since then. Not that you told him. Because it would mean admitting you’ve been staring, and you don’t know if you’re there yet.

You talked until the sun was rising that morning. In truth, you don’t even remember falling asleep. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up with his hand lost in your hair.

For a moment, you pretended you weren’t awake, but then you caught sight of Jennie staring at you with her mouth hanging open, and you snorted and sat up, which in turn woke Jungkook up.

There has been a full truce between you and Jungkook since then. You haven’t had a chance to be alone once more, but it’s not like you tried either. You’ve just been enjoying the familiar camaraderie, the easiness of talking to him like no time has passed. 

Sometimes, you really do find yourself staring, just because he has grown so much more handsome than you remembered him to be. And sometimes, he catches your gaze. Holds it hostage, like it’s his to keep forever. You like to tell yourself it is, even though you’re aware that that time has come and gone a long time ago.

You’re not foolish enough to believe you and Jungkook would work now. Not with the baggage you both carry. But here, on this paradise of an island, you like to pretend nothing ever happened. That you just picked up the book where you left it off, and it really does feel like it.

There’s no animosity left. Just stolen glances and careful touches. Just some shy laughs and short conversations while you’re in a group. 

He hasn’t tried to be alone with you again. And you’re glad he hasn’t pushed his luck – you doubt the universe is kind enough to let you be close to him like that again without it ripping your heart from your chest.

You tried once, and it didn’t work. You won’t risk it again.

“Stop staring and go talk to him,” Minji says in Korean, startling you.

You look away from Jungkook, who looks amazing in his pale suit. Your gaze trails to Minji instead, who has a knowing smile on her lips.

“I don’t know,” you reply, your cheeks burning from being caught. And then you try your luck with your broken Korean, saying, “I don’t want to push it.”

“Push it?” Minha says from the other side of Minji. “I’m sure he’s just been waiting for it.”

You gulp, glancing back towards Jungkook. You catch him looking then, and he tilts his head to the side with a soft smile that takes you way back.

Way back to the months of summer last year, when you were falling in love.

You smile back, and then you look down at the empty glass of champagne you’ve been holding for the good part of the last hour. 

“You think?” you let out, and you lean forward to glance at Minha.

She has her hand on her belly, and she rubs it mindlessly, nodding her head. “Go talk to him. Put him out of his misery.”

You chuckle, and then you nod. “Okay, okay. I will.”

“Have fun!” Minji says as you get up, and you give the two girls a thumbs up before you head to the champagne fountain. 

You grab a new glass, taking a sip of the rich, bubbly liquid, hoping for it to give you liquid courage. But it seems you don’t need it.

Indeed, Jungkook stops next to you, his tattooed hand reaching for a glass of his own. He holds it up in the space between you and him, and you can’t hold your smile in as you clink glasses, taking another sip.

“What do you think of–” He motions around – “all of this?”

“It’s lavish,” you reply as you scan the room.

Jennie is looking your way, and she gives you a wink before bursting out laughing as Taehyung pulls her to him.

“Lavish,” Jungkook repeats pensively, and then he chuckles. “That’s one way to put it.”

You nod. “I wonder what the wedding will look like if that’s the engagement party.”

“Honestly, I think they’ll elope.” Jungkook takes a sip of champagne. “Like I’m ninety-five percent sure.”

“Oh?” you let out, and you glance at Jennie and Taehyung again. At the way they’re swaying side to side, foreheads touching, so out of beat they stick out like sore thumbs from the dancing crowd. And you see it – you would not even be surprised if they revealed they’re already married. “You know what, that would make sense.”

“I know, right!” Jungkook seems enthused that you agree with him, and he adds, “They even got the extended family to come. It has to be because they are not planning to get married in front of anyone that’s here tonight.”

“Good for them,” you say. 

Jungkook nods with a laugh, clinking his glass with yours again before you drink.

“Though,” he lets out once he’s swallowed. “They might just do a small ceremony back home. Weddings in Korea aren’t as intense as American ones are.”

“You don’t usually do receptions, do you?” you ask, even if you know they don’t.

“Some people do, but it’s rare,” Jungkook answers. “Take Seokjin and Minha, for example. They got married in a tiny church, and then we all had dinner at a restaurant together and they went home.”

“That sounds boring.”

Jungkook lets out a small laugh. “What? You want a big reception and the whole thing?”

You nod, meeting his gaze for half a heartbeat before you resume your attention on the dancing crowd. “If I ever get married one day, I want to be a princess for the day.”

“Yeah?”

Another enthusiastic nod. “I want a lot of flowers like this, I want the dress and the dancing. I just think…” you trail off, falling more serious. “It’s a beautiful celebration of love, and love deserves to be celebrated.”

Jungkook is staring at your profile when you glance at him again, and you feel shy under the scrutiny of his gaze, so you evade it, glancing at the bubbles in your glass of champagne.

“It does,” Jungkook agrees, his voice low.

You barely hear him over the music, and it feels intimate somehow. It only makes your cheeks burn brighter than you’re sure they already are. But you do have a good foundation on – hopefully it covers the redness.

“What about you?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything else.

Jungkook doesn’t look away from your profile when he says, “It’ll be up to my fiancee to decide what she wants.”

You gulp, meeting his intense gaze for a heartbeat before you’re looking at the dancefloor once more. “You want to get married?”

Jungkook finally looks away, and you take your first full breath in a minute. He doesn’t seem to notice your unease, just saying, “I think so. If I fall in love again, I want it to be the real thing.”

It hurts. It hurts to consider he might love someone else one day. That you might too. That what you held in your hearts will truly be something of days past one day.

Though… it already is, isn’t it?

“You deserve it,” you reply, voice soft.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. He just nods, draining the rest of his champagne. You follow suit, mostly to hide the pain and nostalgia that grabbed ahold of you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asks then, and it’s a vague echo of something he once asked you, at an afterparty when you still believed he hated you.

You look at his extended hand, and meet his doe eyes. There’s a hint of nostalgia in there, and you really can’t say no.

“Don’t complain if I crush your feet,” you tease, but you interlace your fingers with his, letting him guide you towards the dancefloor.

He does so by walking backwards, his eyes never leaving yours. “I remember you being a good dancer, Y/n,” he says. “You won’t step on my feet.”

You’re surprised he remembers. You’ve only danced with him once or twice before. But then again, Jungkook seems to remember a lot of things when it comes to you.

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you anymore.

Bad Bunny is playing as you reach the dancefloor, and Jungkook leads you into a simple bachata. It’s fun as he holds your hands, and you can’t look away from his big eyes as he looks down at you, grinning.

Fuck.

It’s like you get stabbed in the chest. Because he looks so happy like this, so carefree. So different from how you found him yesterday morning. He looked haunted then. Grieving, even. But now… now he looks like the weight of the world was taken off his shoulders. He’s even more beautiful like this, and you hope he’ll never lose his spark again.

Jeon Jungkook is the kind of person that’s meant to glow. To shine brightly, to outshine everyone in a room. You hope nothing ever puts a damper on him anymore. 

As the Bad Bunny song comes to its end, replaced by a slower rhythm, Jungkook pulls you closer, hands falling to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers mindlessly toying with the short hair at the back of his head.

It’s just as soft as you remember it to be. Maybe even softer, like he’s been using some oil to make it feel like silk. 

“You’re beautiful tonight,” Jungkook whispers as you move in slow circles.

The room has faded around you, like you’re standing alone on the dancefloor. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back, cheeks burning with blush.

“This pink is a good colour on you,” he adds.

You wet your lips. “It matches the flowers!”

Indeed, you noticed earlier, taking a picture that will surely make its way on your Instagram some time tomorrow while you’re waiting for your flight at the airport.

Jungkook chuckles, his eyes sparkling. “It does. But you eclipse all of them.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips still curve upwards. “You’re cheesy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You’d expected him to deny, so his reply surprises you, making you snort. His smile grows wider, the dimples in his cheeks appearing, and for a moment, you just wish you could kiss him, right here on the dancefloor. Wish you could say fuck it with the past and start again like nothing ever happened.

You wish it was so simple.

“When are you going home?” Jungkook asks.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” you admit. 

His grin decreases, and you don’t miss the flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Already? Everyone is staying for a few more days.”

“I know.” But you have a family event at the beginning of next week, even though you insisted on having it next weekend instead. “But I can’t stay longer.” You take a deep breath, offering him a smile you hope is comforting. “That means you and Jimin won’t have to share a bed anymore.”

Jimin, who’s been complaining of his nose hurting ever since yesterday morning. Apparently, Jungkook punched him in his sleep while he was having his nightmare.

“Oh, true,” Jungkook lets out, but he does not look too happy at the perspective of having a bed for himself.

The sparkle in his eyes is lesser. You hate it, wish you could bring it back, yet you feel like it might be better like this. 

You and Jeon Jungkook are not meant to be together anyway.

You purse your lips, only then realizing that you haven’t been following the music anymore. Maybe because the song ended, and this one is more upbeat.

You catch Jennie’s mother looking at you, and you feel like you need air for a time.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you suggest.

Jungkook seems to like the idea, a small smile growing on his lips. “Yeah, I could use a breather. It’s getting hot in here.”

It hasn’t really, at least not in your opinion, but you’re wearing a summer dress while he’s wearing a suit, and you know he’s always the type to be warm anyway.

So you head outside, following the walkpath that leads towards the beach. The waves replace the sound of the music the further you get from the reception hall, and soon you’re kicking off your heels, holding them in one hand as you step into the cold sand.

Jungkook takes a moment longer to remove his dress shoes and socks, and then he’s following you onto the beach.

The sky is moonless tonight. Dotted with an infinity of tiny pinpricks of light, stars shining on and on overhead. It reminds you of the night sky in Jeju last year. It’s peaceful, so, so peaceful, and you wonder if you’ll find a swing again tonight.

“Wow,” Jungkook lets out as he looks up at the sky. “The stars are shining tonight.”

You nod, gazing up. “It’s beautiful.”

“Doesn’t it remind you of Jeju?” he asks.

You’ve gotten closer to where the waves reach up on the shore, and you stop, glancing at Jungkook. You wonder if he can read the nostalgia in your gaze as much as you read it in his.

“It does.” You stare at the stars, emotions swirling in your chest, toying with your heart. “I wonder if we’ll be lucky enough to see some shooting stars.”

“You want to make a wish tonight?”

You glance at him. “Don’t you?”

He just holds your gaze. Doesn’t say anything, but it’s written all over his face. You think it’s written all over yours too, and it’s dangerous. Too dangerous. So you turn and start walking towards the horizon, stopping a few steps away when he doesn’t follow you. 

You look over your shoulder to see him still staring at you. “Are you coming?”

He plays with his piercings, and then lets out a small disbelieving chuckle before following you. It makes you smile softly, your heartbeat racing in your chest. You wait for him to catch up to you, and then you’re walking along the shore, eyes cast on the spot in the distance where sky, beach and sea meet. 

“Are you cold?” Jungkook asks a little while later, after you’ve walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

You glance at him, chuckling. “A little. It’s way colder at night than during the day, isn’t it?”

He bends down, dropping his shoes in the sand before he straightens, removing his jacket. He puts it on your shoulders, making sure it’s secure before he bends down again to retrieve his shoes.

It’s cheesy. Cheesy and romantic and it makes you feel way too many emotions towards the man at your side. You shove them away, remind them that it’s impossible, yet you’re still smiling dumbly as you resume your walk.

“Thanks,” you tell Jungkook.

He’s adjusting the sleeves of his satin shirt. They’re wrinkled from being stuck in his jacket, and he mindlessly tries to flatten them as he shoots a glance your way.

“Don’t mention it.”

You nod, scrunching your nose up, and then you’re just staring ahead again, seeing Jungkook struggle with his sleeves in the corner of your gaze.

“Do you need help with that?” you ask when it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fix his sleeves on his own.

He chuckles. “Yeah, please.”

You step closer to him, handing him your heels before you start fixing his sleeve. He’s looking at you as you do it, and you focus on the sleeves and the sleeves only, refusing to look up and meet his gaze right now.

He’s too close. You don’t know if you’d survive.

You clear your throat as you finish up, and then you take a step back, grabbing your heels from his hands again. He’s just watching you, and you meet his gaze, gulping.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Nothing.”

You know there is something. But you also know you can’t afford to ask about it, not when your resolve is dissolving faster than ice cream melts in the summer. So you just resume your walk, shortly reaching the sign that separates the private resort beach to the public one. There’s no one there tonight, yet you still turn around.

You can’t afford to be seen together, not after everything that happened.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asks when you’re on your way back to the resort.

You glance at him, meet his gaze for a few seconds. “I wish I was staying longer.”

It’s as much truth as you dare give him

“Me too.”

There’s a lump in your throat, and you swallow around it with a small cough. 

“I’m glad we’re spending time like this together,” he admits, and you throw him another look. But he’s not done, adding, “I’m really sorry we fought the other day.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out. “You really don’t have to apologize for that.”

Especially not when it makes you think of why you fought in the first place, and you remember what he said about hooking up. It douses the feelings that were treacherously distracting you, though, and you internally thank your stars, along with those above.

You were way too close to making a mistake as it was.

“I really do, though,” he insists. “But thank you for saying I don’t.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you choose to remain silent as you keep on walking, the cold sand and the soft breeze your only companions for a time.

Beside the man next to you, that is.

Jungkook only speaks up again when you see the first villa some time later. “We’re already back.”

“Yeah.” You wet your lips, trying to pretend you didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice. “The beach isn’t too big.”

“Right,” he lets out.

You throw him a glance. “Let’s go back to the party?”

He looks down. “I’ll have to wash my feet before I can put my socks back on.”

“Oof, yeah.” You chuckle. “That would be a sensory nightmare.”

“Yeah.”

So you follow him towards your villa, and you both try to brush the sand off your feet once you’re on the deck. The outside shower seems very uninviting in the dark, especially with the spider that’s lurking in the corner, so you instead head inside once you’ve brushed most of the sand off.

There’s only one bathroom on your side of the villa, and you refuse to go to Taehyung and Jennie’s side just to be quicker in case they’ve ventured back for a time, like they have been doing a lot today. 

Instead, you drop your shoes by the sliding door and then walk to the bathroom you’ve both been using. Jungkook takes care of turning the shower on, grabbing the shower head from the wall. He motions for you to get closer, and you narrow your gaze at him.

“You’re not going to spray me, are you?”

He laughs. “And risk getting the whole bathroom wet?”

It sounds so suspicious you stay rooted in your spot by the door. “I don’t trust you.”

“Come on, Y/n.” He tilts his head to the side, lips jutting out in a small pout that makes you feel so weak in the knees you almost cry. “You have nothing to be scared of.”

But you do. You have so much to be scared of, because what if… What if the memories and the trauma come back if you let him back in? What if they’re just waiting around the corner to jump at your throat?

“I’ll kill you if you get my dress wet,” you threaten, glaring at him.

“I promise I won’t,” he says with a hand on his chest like he’s solemnly swearing it. “On my honor as a man.”

“What is a man’s honor worth anyway…” you grumble, and he widens his gaze, mouth falling open.

“That’s mean!”

“You know what I mean, though!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Do I?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He snorts, and then he gives up on convincing you, spraying water on his feet and ridding himself of the sand. “Then keep your sandy feet.”

“There’s almost nothing left anyway,” you say, pointing at your feet. “And I’m wearing sandals.”

He doesn’t say anything, cleaning himself thoroughly, and then he’s straightening to meet your gaze again. “You sure you don’t want to at least rinse?”

You sigh, holding his gaze. “Please don’t get my dress wet.”

“I won’t.”

He’s more serious than he was earlier, looking even a little annoyed, so you finally give in, walking over to him. You pull your dress up before stepping in the shower, and then he directs the water to your feet. You watch little grains of sand drifting away, and he turns the water off once he deems you’re rinsed enough.

“See, you had nothing to be scared of,” he says with a pout.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

He makes a non-committal sound, and then looks at you for a time. It takes you a moment to realize he’s waiting for you to step out of the shower so that he can get out too. You blush at the realization, and then you’re getting out, grabbing a clean tower to wipe your feet. 

Jungkook ends up drying his feet with the same towel, and then he throws it in the hamper the employees of the resort have left in here to collect dirty towels. You can sense the annoyance wafting off of him, and you wish you could take everything back.

You were only teasing.

“You okay?” you ask.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah.” He must see that you’re unconvinced, because he adds, “Yes, I am. Want to go back to the party?”

You nod. But you don’t move for a time, just holding his gaze. And then you blurt, “I’ll be in Seoul next month.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”

“Maybe we could…” you trail off.

You trail off, because you shouldn’t, and you shouldn’t have said anything.

Jungkook must see the moment you shut off from him, especially as you turn around to make an escape. But he’s quicker, grabbing your wrist much like he did when you were fighting on the beach.

“You’re not walking away from me again,” he says, pulling you back towards him. He’s frowning, a crease between his eyebrows. “Never again.”

There’s a moment of you both staring at each other, and you know you can’t resist anymore. Know you were always meant to give in tonight.

Then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him back, the months of longing and yearning crashing into you both at the same time. It steals the breath from your lungs, and you’re pretty sure your heart stops for a few seconds before it starts back up again at a wild rhythm that has to be unhealthy.

Especially as Jungkook pushes you back against the wall, caging you there. His lips are insistent against yours, his piercings warm as they press into your lower lip. And he kisses you so thoroughly, so languidly, that your mind goes blank, and you forget why you weren’t supposed to do this in the first place.

There’s just him. Just him, and his lips, and his hands, and the desire that’s never been extinguished between the two of you. The stars outside knew, you think, as he cups your cheek to tilt your head to the side while he deepens the kiss. They knew tonight was leading to this, to a jump in the past.

Nostalgia is an emotion you’ve always been weak to. So when he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you suck on it, revelling in the grunt that he makes. One of his hands grips your hip, fingers dipping in the supple skin and for a moment, you wish he’d lift your dress. You wish you could feel his fingers on you directly. You wish you could feel so much more, too. Feel the weight of him on you again, and it makes you so fucking nostalgic.

Nostalgia is everywhere tonight. It was in the stars, in his gaze and in the walk on the beach. It was in the conversation you had before you even went on that walk, and you were always meant to succumb to it.

You’re weak when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. So, fucking weak.

It cost you so much in the past.

Yet it feels so right to kiss him tonight, like two puzzle pieces connecting perfectly like they were always meant to. It’s like the universe breathes a sigh of relief, or maybe that’s your soul.

It was longing for him for so long, after all.

You pull away from the kiss what feels like an eternity later, breathing raggedly. Jungkook is not faring any better, and he leans his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a time, eyes closed, refusing to let the moment end. But you hear fireworks outside, and Jungkook pulls away, glancing outside the bathroom.

He looks at you again a few seconds later, kissing your forehead ever so gently, and tears build up behind your closed eyelids.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to do this,” Jungkook whispers as if he noticed the tears.

“It’s not that.” But maybe it is a little. Because you’re terrified of where that would lead. So you wet your lips, tasting him there, and your eyes flutter open to meet his dark gaze. “I just… I don’t know if we should.”

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let it show. “That’s okay. There’s no pressure.”

You smile softly, blinking the tears away. It works, for the most part. “I want to see you while I’m in Seoul.”

You do. You really fucking do.

Maybe you’re not meant to leave everything about you and Jeon Jungkook in the past. Kissing him still feels so right, after all.

“I’ll be there,” he promises. “Just text me, and I’ll be there.”

A single tear manages to escape the blink of your eyes, and it slides on your cheek. Jungkook looks at it, smiling softly like it’s the treasure he’s been looking for, and he gently dries it before leaning in to press a featherlight kiss on your lips.

Later that night, when you go to bed, you can still feel the warmth of his lips against yours.

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☆☆☆☆☆

oh gosh i love love love this chapter. finally a silver lining for you all <3 let me know what you think of this chapter!

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, February 11th

You haven’t been back in your home country for a while now. Last time you were here, summer blasted at the world outside, Chelsea’s wedding at the summit of it all, but now winter has closed its clutches around the city you grew up in, and part of you wishes you were back in Korea, where the weather has been a little warmer over the last few days.

But now that your ribs have healed, you’ve decided to come home for a while, to stay with your family and visit Stella in person, along with the publishing house. They were wanting to set up a meeting with you whenever you were ready to discuss your plans in terms of writing for the next few months considering you haven’t done anything since…

Since your assault.

They’ve made it clear that there is no pressure though, repeating it multiple times while you were sitting across from them earlier. They said that they pushed you to release your last book a lot faster than they usually do, and they want to give you a break while you focus on healing.

They claimed they’ll be there whenever you’re ready again, but you know the publishing world is cutthroat. There’s a chance they’ll have moved to the next big sensation by then and, strangely, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not because of being numb like you were in December, but just because your energy is focused elsewhere right now.

After consulting the doctors back in Korea, you’ve managed to convince them to lower the dose of your meds just a little bit. Indeed, you’ve been wanting to feel something, craving emotions other than the overwhelming sadness you get whenever you end up thinking about a boy with doe eyes and soft lips. It’s been a strange adjustment, but you like it better like this. 

You want to face the emotions head on to be able to heal instead of just pretending that nothing ever happened. You’ve been practicing going outside alone back in Seoul, just to stand outside of your building for a little while before coming back in. You even managed a short walk five minutes away from your condominium not too long before you came back to your home country, but that’s all you’ve managed to do on your own so far.

So Jennie came all the way here with you, as shooting for her movie wrapped up at the end of January. With her, or with Hyunseok, you’ve been able to live some sort of a… normal life. You’ve gone to a restaurant twice, visited Jennie’s place once, and you even went shopping with Hyunseok last week, but they always had to come meet you at your place first.

But this is good. Being back home, so far away from all the trauma, is good. It’s practice from being away from your comfort zone, and it’s been healing.

You don’t think you’ll ever get back to how you were before the assault, some innocence forever stolen from you, but you’re already doing better. 

Support goes a long way, in situations like this one. And maybe you won’t ever be able to walk around at night alone again, but at least you have people that understand it. And you don’t think it matters – you can always take a taxi if you need to get to places alone. But you haven’t had to do anything alone once since it all happened, Hyunseok coming with you to every single one of your medical appointments.

Your therapist thinks you’re doing admirable progress, and fast. You reckon it’s all because of her. Her clinical insight, her gentle approach, and the way she makes you feel seen and understood has really been helping with dealing with the anxiety you’ve developed. 

You haven’t developed PTSD. She said maybe it’ll show up later, in ways you just haven’t encountered yet, but you have been trying to be positive. 

The anxiety is enough, and how would you even develop PTSD about something you don’t remember? You’re no expert in mental health, though, and you know the brain works in weird ways. You could indeed eventually develop PTSD, but so far you’ve been okay. You reckon that it helps that you take meds that fully prevent you from dreaming.

You still remember the nightmares that you had before they gave you the meds. Well, you don’t remember the nightmares exactly, but you remember the fear, the terror that lingered after you woke up from them. Maybe that was PTSD, and maybe you’ve just been keeping it at bay with medication. But if it works, it works, and you won’t complain. You want to learn to be as normal as possible again. You want to be independent from people, you want to move on from what happened. With that drive, your therapist thinks you’ll be able to learn to manage everything faster than most people do.

What she doesn’t understand is, you need to go back to normal. You need to be able to do the things you used to, or else you’ll go insane. One of the reasons why you really wanted to come back home was because it allowed you to be away from your apartment for a while. It’s a nice apartment, though very small, but it’s been driving you insane these past weeks, making you feel like an animal in a cage.

But being here, even though it’s cold and there are feet of snow on the lawn in front of your parents’ house in the suburbs, has been freeing. You left some heaviness back in Korea that you hope won’t return when you go back…

If you go back. You’ve been starting to think of cutting your year abroad short to come back here instead, but you haven’t made a decision yet.

“That went… decently well,” Stella says next to you as you walk out of the publishing house, snowflakes swirling down from the clouded sky. 

They’re lazy, chasing each other in a slow waltz as they fall, and they’re already littering the sidewalk, snow crunching under your feet as you walk towards the coffeeshop where Jennie is waiting for you.

“It did,” you agree. “But honestly Stella… I don’t know if I’ll be able to write anytime soon.”

“That’s okay,” she reassures you. “I am ready to fight tooth and nail to keep them off your back. You’re allowed to take all the time that you need.” She flashes a quick smile. “Besides, they’re kind of biting their tongue now that they’ve had bad reviews about how the book felt rushed.”

Indeed, those have come out since you’ve published. You didn’t really pay it any mind as you were lost in the daze induced by your assault, but there has been a lot of comments about how the book felt rushed compared to your other books. 

It was rushed. They pushed you like crazy to get a book out in under a year. You felt like you could do it, and you’re proud of what you did with the time that you had, but it was to be expected. Indeed, typos were found in the book, which they wouldn’t have had it undergone more revision. Some of the prints had pages missing, others were printed the wrong way…

A lot of mistakes that would have been avoided if the book wasn’t rushed. But thankfully, the story has only received praises, so the bad reviews haven’t gone to your head too much.

You’d warned the publishing house that this would happen, and they refused to listen. So it’s on them, and you won’t take responsibility for their shortcomings.

“Yeah,” you let out.

“You take your time with everything, okay?” Stella says. “And if you need to stop writing for a while, know that I’ll be there whenever, or if ever you decide to write again.”

“Thank you.” You glance her way, lips curled upwards. “I’m sure I’ll go back to writing eventually. It’s just, with the concussion and healing I just… don’t feel like it.”

“Which is totally normal and expected,” she replies. “No one is actually expecting you to start writing right now. And if they do, I’ll beat the shit out of them. Metaphorically.”

If she realizes that she accidentally alluded to your own assault, she doesn’t let it show. You’re thankful for it – the hardest part of it all is when people act like something happened to you. Like your brothers, who have been incredibly awkward since you came home.

Like they expect you to break if they say something. It makes it all too real, and it’s the last thing you need.

You snort. “That sounds a little excessive.”

“You know I’d go to war for you,” Stella adds. 

You do know. Your mother told you she almost flew to Korea when she found out what happened to you, claiming she wanted to bring justice to the assholes that attacked you. Like she was the heroine of a book, maybe even the main character from your book, who did fly to Korea after her father was killed after all.

“I’d go to war for you too,” you tell her.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a half hug. She’s taller than you, and she leans her head on yours for a few seconds. “I love you, Y/n. I know I’m your agent and you literally pay me for this, but I love you.”

Your gaze grows wet, and you quickly blink it away as you reach a red light. You stare at the hand indicating for you to wait before crossing the street, taking a deep breath.

“You’re family at this point,” you tell her. “My mother said you and Allie should come have dinner this weekend. She’ll make her roast beef.”

“I would kill for your mother’s roast beef,” she declares. “I’ll check with Allie, but we could probably come Friday. We have something with the in-laws on Saturday.”

“I’ll let my mother know.”

The hand turns to a little person walking, and you cross the street, reaching the coffeeshop. Jennie is inside, and you see two teenagers talking to her excitedly through the window. She’s smiling to them politely, but you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.

“Gotta go rescue Jennie,” you tell Stella, and she glances inside, wincing.

“You’d think she would get recognized less here,” Stella says with a sigh. “I’d help, but I have a meeting with another author.”

“Cheating, I see,” you tease.

She chuckles, and then she pulls you into a tight hug. “I’d never cheat on you.”

You snort, returning the hug. “I know you wouldn’t.”

You say goodbye, and Stella waves as she heads towards where her car is parked a little down the street. You get into the coffeeshop before she reaches it though, and the bells above the door ring as the door shuts behind you, the warm coffee-scented atmosphere wrapping around you like another warm hug.

You head towards Jennie, and she spots you between the two girls in front of her. Her features relax as she notices you, and she gets up from her chair.

“Well, it was nice to meet you two,” she says as you near her, and the two girls look at you, gaze widening.

“Oh, Jungkook’s girlfriend!”

You think your heart drops to the floor. Hell, you think it turned to glass and shattered upon impact. 

You are not Jungkook’s girlfriend. You’d never be his girlfriend, not after everything that happened.

“Let’s go,” Jennie says as she sees the look on your face. “Hope you girls enjoy the concert.”

She walks to you as she’s putting her coat on, her scarf and purse clutched in one hand, and she grabs your arm, pulling you behind her. It doesn’t take too long before you’re back outside, winter grasping at your exposed skin once more. It makes your cheek prickle, and you wish you had a scarf to hide your face in.

You forgot it in Korea. And didn’t bother to get one here, though you reckon you could have stolen one of your mother’s scarves.

“Oh my God,” Jennie lets out as she quickly wraps her own bright red scarf around her neck. “They were not leaving me alone.” She sighs, glancing at you. “I’m sorry they said that.”

You shrug. “A lot of people have assumed we’re dating after what happened.”

And it’s true. The comments on your posts on Instagram are filled with such thoughts, mixed throughout the comments about your book.

“I hate that people just assume,” Jennie grumbles, and then she looks across the street, where your father’s SUV is parked. “Want to go home?”

You nod, digging in your purse to retrieve the keys. “Yeah.”

You’d originally planned to stop for food on the way, but as you’re driving home, your mother calls to say she made your favourite soup, and that she can make you grilled cheese when you get home. She doesn’t ask about the meeting, which you’re relieved about.

You’re kind of tired of talking about writing for today. You just want to go home, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch some stupid show on Netflix with Jennie. But Jennie did not get the memo, because the second you hang up with your mother, she says, “Hope your meeting went well.”

You wince internally, checking your mirrors as you switch lanes for the slower one. “Yeah, it did. They seemed…” you trail off, searching for the right word. “Understanding, but I’m not sure if it was a load of bullshit.”

“Hopefully not.” You feel her gaze on your profile, and you quickly glance her way before resuming your attention on the highway. “I feel like that whole meeting could have been an email. Kind of cruel to make you come all the way here for that.”

“Well, I was coming here regardless,” you point out. “Might as well just go, you know?”

“Fair.” There’s a short silence, only interrupted by the squeak of the wipers as they move across the windshield. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“In general?” you ask, but you don’t wait for her to reply. “Good. Just… tired.”

“I mean, it was a long day outside of the house,” she says, even though it wasn’t that long. “Makes sense that you’d feel tired.”

You meet her gaze for a heartbeat or two. “Honestly… It’s easier here.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “It’s so far from everything that happened, you know?” You shrug. “Makes it easier to forget it ever happened.”

“That’s good,” Jennie gently says. “Really good.”

You smile, but it’s sad. “Maybe I should move back here.”

The silence that follows is heavy, though filled with understanding. Especially when Jennie breaks it to say, “You have to do what is right for you. If you think that that is what you need, then I fully support it, even if I’ll miss you.”

“I just think…” You chuckle, even though there is nothing funny about it at all. “I just think it’d be better, you know?”

“That makes sense.”

And you really think it does. The more you think of it, the more it does make sense. You’d move back in with your parents. You could claim the basement as your own, as it’s already an apartment that one of your brothers stayed in during college. It even has its own separate door. You could take time away from everything, with the other half of your support circle, to heal and rebuild yourself. You’d have to change therapists, but you had a therapist here in the past and could probably reach out to her.

And you’d be far away from him. From the reminders of him, from the moments you shared together. You wouldn’t have to live with those memories, to be haunted by them anymore.  

You doubt there’s any better way to heal than to be far from everything about him. Or far from almost everything. 

They have concerts here this weekend. Two of them, one on Friday and one on Saturday. Jennie mentioned it in passing to you as you were flying home, and you pretended you didn’t hear. She hasn’t talked about it again, and apart from the posters and ads you’ve seen in the city, it’s like he’s not here.

He isn’t. He’s most likely still in some other city. At least you’ve been telling yourself that constantly.

Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to leave the house for a whole other reason.

Later that evening, when you and Jennie sit on the couch in the basement under a thick, fluffy blanket, binge-watching some reality TV show, you glance at Jennie. She’s been on her phone the whole time, most likely talking to Taehyung, and you watch as she smiles softly. She looks younger like this, without any makeup, her celebrity personality stripped away.

“You’re not even paying attention,” you tease her, gently kicking her under the blanket.

She chuckles. “Mingee likes Seungil,” she says. “And Mina Sue is just mad.”

“Okay, maybe you’re paying attention a little,” you admit. “But who are you texting like this?”

“Tae,” she replies. “He wants us to go to the concert on Saturday.”

You freeze for the second time today. This time, your heart stays in your chest, but you immediately say, “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going to their concert.”

Jennie just stares at you unblinkingly, clearly unimpressed.

“What?” you let out.

“Why not?” she asks.

You widen your gaze, pausing the TV. “What do you mean, why not?”

“It’s been better here, yeah?” 

You frown. “It’s been better because I’m away from everything.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jennie sighs, glancing at her phone. “Would you be upset if I went without you?”

“Of course not!” you quickly say. “You miss Tae, and he’ll be right next door. Go see him.”

“But I’m here for you, not for him.”

Fuck, you love her so bad.

“Babe, he’s your boyfriend, I’m just happy you get to see him after all this time apart.” 

Indeed, Taehyung only managed to go back to Korea for a few days during the holidays, though some of them were spent with his family while Jennie was with hers.

“I’d stay with him Saturday evening, though. You sure that would be okay with you?”

You smile. “Yeah, I’ll just stay here with my parents. They’re not bad company.”

She snorts. “Your parents are adorable.”

Indeed, they are. They’ve always loved each other deeply, which is definitely why you grew up to be such a romantic, and a romance writer too.

That settles the conversation, as Jennie smiles a little wider while she replies to Taehyung, clearly telling him that she’ll go. And you can almost imagine yourself in her position, texting someone else.

For a moment, you see the scene from an outside perspective like it’s a movie playing on the TV. You see it as you stand on the edge of the gaping hole in your chest, looking down at it.

In another universe, you never get assaulted by the sasaengs outside of Jungkook’s house. In that universe, you would have made your relationship official while he was in Korea. You’d be here on this couch with Jennie excited to go to the concert with her, to see him after the months apart. 

You’d be backstage, cheering for him, holding him close whenever he’d get off the stage even though he’d be sweaty. He’d tell you he loves you, and you’d tell him you love him back.

In that universe, you got your happy ending. Not this bullshit that has fucked you up so bad you doubt you’ll ever be the same again.

You’re crying. You don’t know when you started crying, but Jennie looks up, putting her phone down.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” she asks. “I’ll stay, it’s okay.”

You put your hands on your face as a sob wracks through you, making you choke around nothing. And you try to speak, but no words come out, staying lodged in your throat. Jennie pulls you to her chest, holding you tight.

You wish she could hold you tight enough to keep all your pieces together, but you fear only one person could do that, and you don’t want to ever see him again.

You can’t see him. Not when you know it’ll awaken trauma and pain and you just seek healing. But fuck, you wish the conditions surrounding you and him were different. You wish the end wasn’t so fucking dramatic, like something you’d see in a horror movie.

But you don’t fit in his world. Not when there will always be people threatening you for what you are to him.

“What’s wrong?” Jennie asks again as you cling to her like you would to a buoy in a storm.

“He’ll be here,” you choke out.

She rubs your back. “Oh, babe.”

“I’m so tired, Jennie, I’m so fucking tired.”

You think she’s crying too. She’s shaking, and she’s so sympathetic you know your pain breaks her heart just as much as it breaks yours.

“I know.” 

She rocks you from side to side as you cry, but you just keep on breaking, like you should have when you first woke up from the coma.

You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of clinically ill jealousy. You didn’t deserve for him to lie. You didn’t deserve every single shitty thing that happened.

Where would you be, if you’d never gone to Korea?

Home. You’d be home. Here, not the one you found in his arms. 

You wish you’d never gone to Seoul at all.

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do,” you say when the sobs have lessened, even though the tears just keep on coming. “Everyone just says that I just need time to heal, but my body has healed, and I don’t remember shit about it all, yet it all just still fucking hurts.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Jennie sounds desperate, and you hate it so much you wish you’d never burdened her with the darkness in your head.

It’s been there since the assault. You were just good at pretending it wasn’t.

“There’s nothing to say.” You pull back, sitting back in your spot as you glance at the paused TV. “I think part of me will always see him as responsible for what happened in some way, and I feel so fucking bad about it.”

Silence follows the truth. It’s heavy, weighing a thousand pounds, and a glance Jennie’s way shows that she’s indeed crying.

“I think that’s the problem,” you say as she blurs behind a new onslaught of tears. “I’m aware it’s not his fault, but if he hadn’t been a celebrity… None of this would have ever happened. And maybe we’d be together today. Maybe we’d be in love and I’d be able to be with him without thinking I might get killed for it. How crazy is it that I almost was killed just because I know him?”

“Y/n…”

“No, but it’s different for you, cause you’re a celebrity too. People expect him to be with someone like you. Not with the random writer from another country.”

“You should never listen to what the fans say,” Jennie whispers, and then she adds, voice stronger, “Y/n, and trust me when I say this, but it doesn’t matter who you are. They hated me for years when I was first dating Tae, long before the military service. And then they saw how depressed he got after we broke up the first time, and when we got back together, everyone was happy.” She pauses, wipes her cheeks. “At the end of the day, true fans just want them to be happy. The people that did that to you…”

You’re crying so hard again you have to pull the blanket to your face. 

“The people that did that to you weren’t fans. They were criminals, and they’re in prison for it. And honestly part of me thinks they deserve much worse than prison, because I see the impact it had on you and I fucking miss the girl that you were before.”

She chuckles sadly. “Like, who’d just randomly go to the basement of a club with someone she just met? More than that, who cheers up someone they don’t know like you did that night? You were so strong, you still are so fucking strong, but I met you and I was like ‘Damn, I wish that I was like her’. And that’s why I wanted to be friends with you, because you were so down to earth and fun to be around and just…” 

She stops, taking a deep breath.

“I see the way they broke you. I see you fighting to stay afloat and I wish they got a lot worse than prison time.” The words are said with so much anger you feel its fire. “And I wish I could fix everything for you.”

She falls silent, like all the fight suddenly drained out of her. You look at each other, and you wish you could go back a few months ago and tell Jungkook to not come back to Korea. Maybe none of this would have happened in the end.

“I wish you and Jungkook would have gotten to love each other,” Jennie adds in the barest hint of whisper. “I wish you both were not hurting like you are now. And I wish he’d never lied. I know he hates himself for it. Hates himself for everything that happened.”

“It’d break him if he knew what I told you,” you say when she stops talking again. “Jennie, I hate it so bad. But I feel like, if I see him, everything will come rushing back.”

“I know.” She wipes the silver lining her gaze again. “I understand now. And I’m so, so sorry you feel this way.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad?” You give her a nod, and she tilts her head to the side, confused. “No, why would I be?”

You shrug. “Because it’s unfair that I feel this way. That I feel like it’s his fault.”

“Babe, you went through hell. I think that gives you the right to feel any way you want.”

“Does it, though?”

She thinks about it for a moment, and then says, “Listen, I wish you wouldn’t. I obviously wish my two friends could be happy together, because you guys seemed so happy in Jeju. You both lit up whenever the other was there, or was mentioned. But what happened got in the way of that, and it’s just life. It’d be useless and stupid to be mad at one of you for it. Neither of you is responsible.”

A tear slips on your cheek, streaming down to your chin, where it lingers without falling. “I know I promised you I would speak to him one day, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“You don’t have to,” she reassures you. “Babe, you really don’t have to.”

“I just…” you trail off.

And as you trail off, another one of those things you’ve ignored comes bursting out of the hole in your chest. Because what if you don’t talk to him, and spend a life regretting it? What’s a lifetime of regret over a conversation that might hurt?

What if you need to face the trauma to finally move forward?

What if talking to him would bring more peace than pain? And what if it does bring more pain? Wouldn’t the pain catch up to you eventually anyway? You can’t spend a lifetime trying to pretend you and him ended that night. Because you didn’t. The feelings are still down there in the gaping hole in your chest, just waiting for the moment to come out. Like they did earlier as you imagined what it would have been like in another universe. And even though it’s painful, even though you don’t think you’ll still be standing by the end of it all, maybe you should confront the feelings.

Maybe closure is what you need.

It’s like the storm cloud passes suddenly. Breathing becomes easier, the hole in your chest decreases until it’s not crushing your lungs anymore. You feel like you’re lighter, though that might just be post-crying clarity. But the storm cloud does pass, and there’s sunlight on the horizon. Piercing through it all, painting the clouds with gold. 

And maybe you and him were just that. The golden hour before the sun sets. No matter how ephemeral it was, no matter how it ended with darkness thicker than a moonless night…

You deserve closure.

“Actually,” you let out. You gulp, meeting Jennie’s gaze. “Actually, I want to talk to him.”

She blinks a few times, and a tear escapes and falls on her cheek. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

And you realize it’s the first time you haven’t lied since you woke up from the coma.

Friday, February 13th

Performing has never been so hard as it is tonight. Jungkook plays with a lump in his throat, his energy off all night. He’s been trying his best, telling himself that even if you’re not here, performing for your city is like having a piece of you here with him…

But the more he plays, the harder it gets, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it through the full concert. Especially not when they finally have a break, and he runs off stage first, Taehyung close behind.

He needs out. He needs to breathe, to drink something so that the pain can fade for just a few seconds. But he’s been good at avoiding alcohol. It’s dangerous when he’s in this mental state. And though he was able to have a beer the other day without anything bad happening, he was not here.

He was not in the city you grew up in. 

Hell, he feels like he sees you in the crowd. You’re fucking everywhere here, and he can’t do it anymore.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, grabbing Jungkook’s shoulders.

Jungkook realizes he’s crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Namjoon appears next to them. “Breathe, JK. You’re okay.”

Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because it’s absurd to think that he’s okay. 

He’ll never be okay again.

“Do you need to sit the rest of the concert out?” Namjoon asks. “We got the track ready to play if needed.”

“I want to play,” Jungkook says. “I just can’t, I see her everywhere out there.”

“Then take a break,” Taehyung says. “Every single person in the arena understands.”

Jungkook knows they do. The outpour of love he’s been on the receiving end of since he’s returned to tour with the boys has been unlike anything from before. It’s been healing in some way. To think that at least he didn’t lose that. To see that the fans, the real ones, understood.

But they’ll never understand the pain that he carries every single fucking day. 

“I just want to be strong for the fans,” he says.

Taehyung pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight. “You are strong, JK. Some concerts are just harder, and that’s okay.”

Jungkook nods as he pulls back from the hug. He feels nauseous, and he reckons he really needs some air.

“I’ll try to come back for the encore.”

He doubts he’ll be able to, but he feels too guilty for abandoning the boys like this. So as they return on the stage, he drinks water, sits with a blanket on his shoulders. And he tries to meditate, tries to do some breathing exercises that were recommended to him in the single therapy appointment he managed to go to. It helps a little, and he feels calmer when the boys return backstage before the encore.

“You sure you can do this?” Namjoon asks as they all stand in a semi-circle around Jungkook.

He nods. “I have to.”

Namjoon holds his gaze, and then claps Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

And then he’s back on the stage, sitting at his drumset. He grabs the sticks, and they feel foreign in his hands. Less so when he closes his eyes to play, and the rhythm carries him through the first song of the encore.

But then he makes a mistake on the second song. It’s a minor mistake, but it hurts so bad he starts crying, right there in the spotlight. He stops playing, unable to continue, and Taehyung looks at him from where he’s been playing the trumpet, and he runs over to Jungkook as the song loses yet another instrument.

Jimin is the next to join them, and then all the members run to Jungkook, and they hug him, like they’re protecting him from the world outside. The fans are screaming, and Jungkook wonders if he can just disappear through the floor.

It’s one thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of your closest friends, in front of your family. It’s an entire other thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of the whole world.

To think it’ll get to you…

He almost texted you earlier today. Being here in your city made him feel closer to you than he’s felt in months, but when he opened the conversation thread to see all the drunk texts he sent and you ignored, he broke down yet again. 

He doesn’t know how to heal from losing you. From being responsible for what happened to you. From not running out in the street when he should have the second you went outside. 

Where would he be now if he had? He likes to think that you would have made up, walked back into the house and he’d told you he loves you. But he was stupid, and prioritized someone that he never should have over you, and his mistakes led you to where you are now.

When the members pull back to reveal the crowd, Jungkook sees himself on the big screen. He looks terrible, and he chuckles as he wipes his cheeks. And then he grabs Seokjin’s mic, and gets up from his stool.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes to the crowd, and the scream goes wild. “I just want to say…” He looks at all the members, and then dries another tear on his cheek as the arena quietens. “Please tell the people you love that you love them before you lose them. Please don’t let your pride get in the way.” People scream, and he knows it’s clear he’s speaking of you, but the fans have been there for him. “Love is the most important thing in life. Don’t ever forget that.”

He’s then crying too much again to say something more, and he hands the mic back to Seokjin as the members wrap him in a hug again. They end up leaving the stage without playing the rest of the encore, and though the fans scream outside for them to come back, Namjoon tells the staff to turn on the lights in the arena.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks Jungkook as they sit where he was earlier.

It’s strange and cold in here – it’s clearly a locker room for whatever hockey team the arena that they are in is for – and Jungkook doesn’t know what to reply.

He’s not feeling great. He’s feeling horrible. Broken, astray, part of his heart forever lost in the blood spilled that night. In the light going out of your eyes. In your cold skin and the ambulance ride.

Hell, he really thinks part of him really did die that night. He doubts he’ll ever recover from that.

“I wish I could just sleep through the next year,” Jungkook says.

He rubs his face, though it does nothing to soften the edges of his broken heart.

“If you need to go on hiatus again, you know that we’ll all support you, right?” Taehyung gently says.

Jungkook nods. “I know. But I don’t want to fail the fans.”

And mostly, he doesn’t want to have time to get lost in his head more than he already is. He barely found the way back the last time. Most likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Jennie.

“I don’t think the fans would feel like you’re failing them at all. What you went through…” Taehyung trails off. “Most people would not be here today if they were in your position.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I’m just doing what I have to do.”

“I know.” Taehyung sighs, and then he looks to the side, where Jimin’s been sitting in silence. “Listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you before.”

Jungkook raises his head from the vague spot he was staring at on the floor. “What?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look that seems to hold a full conversation. “I thought it was better to not say anything before the concert tonight, so I didn’t say anything,” Taehyung says. “But Jennie and Y/n are here.”

Jungkook’s heart stops. “Here?”

Taehyung nods. “Not at the concert tonight but…”

“They’re coming tomorrow,” Jimin finishes for Taehyung. 

Jungkook is sure he’s heard it wrong. He pinches his arm, trying to make sure he’s not stuck in one of his nightmares. “What?”

“Y/n came to visit family, and Jennie came with her,” Taehyung explains. “Since we were having concerts here, I invited Jennie.”

That makes sense. She’s his girlfriend, and they haven’t seen each other in months.

But why the fuck would you want to come?

“And Jennie told me she’d come with Y/n,” Taehyung adds. “I think she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

His heart squeezes painfully, blood dripping between his ribs at the thought of you not being able to be left alone.

Are you doing as bad as he is? You went through worse than he did, after all.

He’s just a pathetic coward.

“Oh,” he lets out.

“They’ll be backstage,” Jimin adds. “If you think you can’t… see Y/n, you’re fully allowed to sit the concert out tomorrow.”

Another absurd thing to even consider. Because why wouldn’t he want to see you?

He’s been dying to see you. Been dying to talk to you, to hear your voice…

It’s like one of his nightmares turning into a dream come through.

“At the same time, figured you guys might need to talk?” Taehyung adds after he and Jimin exchange another long look. “What do you think?”

He thinks his heart is beating so fast all of a sudden it might just go into heart attack territory.

“I’ll be there,” Jungkook says with a nod.

“Just…” Jimin lets out. “She might not want to talk at all, you know? Just don’t get your hopes up.”

It doesn’t matter if you want to talk or not. The fact that he’ll see you, in the flesh…

It really is a dream come through.

Saturday, February 14th 

You didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day. Like the universe decided to bring you back to Jungkook on some sick, twisted joke of the holiday that represents everything you’ve lost. When you saw the date earlier while getting ready for the concert with Jennie, you cried.

She held you, rubbed your back soothingly, and said it was okay if you didn’t want to go. That she understood. You know she does, but ever since Wednesday, you’ve been feeling some sort of gentle peace at the idea of seeing him. So you held onto that peace, dried your tears, and steeled yourself to finish getting ready.

And now you’re being ushered backstage after Jennie showed the passes on her phone to security. You’re anxious, hands shaking, throat closing, and you reckon this might be a bad idea. But Jennie senses your unease, grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. The quiet show of support makes you grow emotional, but you blink the tears away, refusing to break down in front of strangers.

You cried enough last Wednesday. Now is not the time for tears anymore.

The first of the members you see is Taehyung, just as expected as he and Jennie have been texting. She let him know you got here the second you did, and so you’re not surprised he’s waiting outside of the dressing room, just wearing a white tank top. It’s tucked in his black pants, and he somehow looks elegant despite the simplicity of the look.

It makes sense. He and Jennie both have a simple elegance that just goes well together, even though they also can get extra sometimes.

Taehyung looks up from his phone as he hears you arrive, and his gaze catches on Jennie. You let go of her hand, pushing her towards him, and they run to each other, Taehyung picking her up the floor and spinning her in a circle before putting her down. It reminds you of the way Jungkook greeted you all those months ago, and you blink some more tears away as your gaze drops to the ground.

“Y/n,” Taehyung says once he’s done greeting his girlfriend.

Not expecting to hear him say your name, you look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles at you, so genuine you wonder what’s going on.

“I’m so happy you’re here today.”

Jennie gives you an encouraging nod next to him as you glance at her.

“Huh, thank you,” you let out, cheeks burning. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“How have you been doing?” he asks next.

Your throat is dry, uncomfortably so, and you clear it as you hold onto the strap of your purse tighter, wishing maybe Jennie would still be holding your hand.

“I’ve been okay,” you say, and it’s not quite a lie.

You haven’t been good, obviously, but you could be worse. You could be at the bottom of the barrel like you were on Wednesday, but you’re not. You’re standing in the arena where they’re having a concert later tonight, and you feel stronger than you’ve felt in months.

Taehyung nods, glancing at his girlfriend. “Are you guys ready to go in?”

You know the question is more for you than it is for Jennie, especially as they both look at you. You just stand there for a few seconds, wondering if you are, as a matter of fact, ready to see Jungkook, but then fate decides to choose for you, the door opening to reveal Jungkook on the other side.

He slams the door shut the second you meet his gaze like he’s a child caught doing something he shouldn’t, and you can’t help the small smile on your lips. Though you reckon the smile might be more nervous than anything, especially as it dies when the door opens again, only to reveal Jimin this time.

“Y/n!” Jimin lets out with far more enthusiasm than you expected from him. 

You got along well in Jeju, that is true. But you haven’t had a single interaction with him since then, so you didn’t expect the camaraderie to have lingered all this time.

“Jimin,” you greet him with a small bow.

He walks over to you, leaving the door open, and you peek over his shoulder to try to see Jungkook, but he’s disappeared from view.

You hate that it disappoints you. That your heart sinks in your chest, but what could you expect? You’ve been ignoring him for months, and the last time you saw him, you just asked him to leave.

Jimin opens his arms, stopping in front of you with an eyebrow cocked in question like he’s not sure it’s okay to hug you. You were unaware you were on hugging terms with him at all, but the familiarity of the gesture is sweet, so you wrap your arms around him loosely. He pats your back gently, and then steps back to look at you.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he says, and then he looks behind. He freezes in that position for a second, and then looks at you again. “I thought he was right behind me.”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “No worries.”

“I just want to say…” Jimin starts, and he glances around to make sure that no one is paying attention. 

Besides Jennie and Taehyung, the staff that led you here left, and there are some body guards by the door that you recognize from having seen them before.

You think one of them is actually the one that was there when you first met Jennie and Jungkook at the club back in May.

“Be patient tonight?” Jimin finishes. “JK has been shitting himself all day, so…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Taehyung says from behind.

Jimin winces. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I guess you’ll see for yourself.”

It’s ominous. And there are shadows in Jimin’s eyes as he says it, like it’s worse than you might be expecting. It makes you even more anxious than you already were, and you gulp as you nod, meeting Jennie’s gaze.

“Okay,” you let out.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, and then Taehyung says something you don’t care to listen to, and you’re all filing into the dressing room, closing the door behind you. 

The dressing room is hectic. There are stylists and makeup artists and hairstylists bustling around, getting everyone ready to go on stage. There are a few chairs in a corner, and the walls are lined with benches, a clear indication that this room is also where the hockey team gets ready before matches. You think the smell of sweat lingers in the air, typical of locker rooms like this one, but it’s mixed with the fumes from hairspray, so it’s hard to tell.

Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi are getting their hair done, and you glance around, trying to find a familiar doe-eyed boy. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you do spy Seokjin by a door that most likely leads to the bathroom. Seokjin spots you at the same time you do him, and he waves at you with a smile before walking into the bathroom.

Taehyung and Jimin leave you and Jennie shortly, having to get dressed, and Jennie pulls you to a table with an array of food – sandwiches, vegetables and water bottles. You grab a water bottle, opening it to take a swig of water that you hope will calm your nerves. 

“You still okay?” Jennie asks.

You nod. “All good.”

“You let me know if you need to leave,” she adds, repeating what she’s already said a thousand times.

All you do is nod again, and then you glance toward the door leading to the bathroom. It opens, and Jungkook walks out, and for a moment, everything pauses around you – the sounds, Jennie’s arm as it was raising to her mouth, a cucumber in hand. The chatter fades, the hecticness of the room being replaced by a calm void. And in that void, there is you and Jungkook, your gazes meeting.

He’s changed. He’s lost a lot of weight over the months, something you’ve already realized from the pictures you saw of him online. His cheeks are gaunt, his hair longer than it was the last time you saw him. There’s a hollowness to his gaze, a sensation of deep emptiness that makes you feel like you’re falling, with nothing to catch you this time. He doesn’t smile at the sight of you. The corners of his lips twitch, which you reckon might have been his best try at a smile, but all you can see is the sadness in those doe eyes.

The longing and yearning that echoes in the hole in your chest can be found in his eyes, too. And it’s only then that you truly understand how bad he’s been doing.

It was one thing to hear it said. But it was hard to conceive that he was doing as bad as you were, yet seeing him standing there, with those dark circles under his eyes, his jaw clenching, you realize that Jungkook has been suffering too.

And it hurts. It hurts like someone put an iron stake in fire before planting it in your chest. It burns and splits you apart, and you turn around, eyes falling to the cucumber plate. The world returns to its regular speed around you, the sounds crashing back into you, and you take a deep breath that chokes on the way down.

Jennie wraps her arm around you, dropping her head on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you say before she speaks, sounding almost defensive. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” she replies encouragingly. “You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and if there’s anyone that can do this, it’s you.”

You lean your head on hers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

You feel him behind you, your senses going in overdrive. Goosebumps prick at your skin, and you’re thankful you’re still wearing your coat to hide the evidence of how aware you are of him.

“Hey, Jennie,” Jungkook says behind you. “Y/n.”

You weren’t ready to hear him say your name. Hell, you could have had a thousand years to get ready to hear him say your name again and it wouldn’t have been enough. Indeed, it clutches at your heart so tight you think it might burst.

You turn around, taking a deep breath. Jungkook’s looking at Jennie, and you hate that it makes you sad. But it allows you to take a look at his face, to truly take in how much he’s changed, and you hate to see the heaviness on his features.

He looks like he’s at a funeral. Not getting ready for a rock concert. Though their newer music wasn’t as much rock as it is… a mix of funk, pop and rock music. 

“Hey JK,” Jennie greets him back, and then she looks at you.

Which only leads him to look at you too, and air wooshes out of your lungs like he just punched your gut.

“Hey,” you let out, voice weak and small and so not strong like you wanted to be tonight.

He tries his luck at a smile again. It works more than it did earlier, though it doesn’t come near his eyes. His eyes remain sad, forlorn, and fuck it makes you want to hold onto him. It’s a visceral need, one you ignore by looking away, glancing at Jimin and Seokjin behind him, looking at you.

Gauging the situation, seeing if they’ll need to intervene. At least you think that they’re looking at you like they are for that reason.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asks, much like Taehyung did outside this room.

He’s asking you. Not Jennie, and Jennie taps your arm before walking away, giving you space. She doesn’t stray too far, like she too wants to make sure she’s close enough to intervene if needed. It makes you feel like she’s your chaperone, and you’d laugh at the thought if it wasn’t so fucking hard to stand in front of Jeon Jungkook.

“Honestly?” You wet your lips, glancing down at your hands as you fumble with the strap of your purse. “It’s been hard. But not as much as it could have been without the people around me.”

Jungkook smiles, and it once again does not quite reach his eyes. “That’s good to hear.”

You gulp, flashing a hint of a smile before returning the question to him. “What about you?”

He remains silent. His eyes gloss over like he gets lost in thoughts, and he stares at a spot behind you. You’re tempted to look behind to see if there’s something there, but you haven’t seen him in so long and he’s just, right, there, in front of you, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“I’ve had better days,” he eventually replies, and he pulls on his piercings.

It attracts your gaze to his lips, and you notice that they’re chapped, like he’s forgotten what chapstick is.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “It is what it is.” He sighs, hands digging in the pockets of his pants. “It’s great to see you.”

“Likewise,” you echo.

It’s awkward. You both just stand there in silence for a little while, a world of unsaid words sitting between the two of you. But you don’t know where to start, don’t know what to say to bridge the gap between then and now. Jungkook doesn’t seem to fare any better than you, yet he holds your gaze. Says words with his eyes that you know his mouth won’t form. Because you’re not there anymore.

Too much has changed between you and Jeon Jungkook to ever say those words aloud. But you feel them on your skin, in your heart, deep in your soul, too. You feel them in the gaping hole in your chest, echoing off the walls over and over again.

Unable to stay in this silence, you say, “I hope the concert goes well tonight.”

He freezes, blinking a few times, and you reckon he might be blinking away tears. “You saw what happened yesterday?”

You did. And it only made you want to come here tonight even more. Because he clearly needs closure too.

“Yeah,” you let out. “I’m sorry.”

Another shrug of his shoulders. “It happens. It’s a little embarrassing when it’s in front of so many people, but it is what it is.”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. “I’m glad I get to see you perform again.”

That same smile but not a smile reappears. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“I will.”

Silence. You haven’t run out of things to tell Jungkook since way before August. Hell, after you hooked up after that concert in July, conversation with Jungkook was always easy. Never like this. Never like you have to pull the words out of each other.

It’s unnatural where it used to be as easy as breathing.

“Do you plan on staying after the concert?” he asks.

You glance at Jennie, who’s with Taehyung now, but she looks your way the second she feels your eyes on her.

“I don’t know,” you tell Jungkook as your gaze returns to him. “Are you guys doing something after?”

Jungkook pushes his hair back, though a stubborn strand falls on his forehead again. “They are. Pretty sure Tae and Jennie will just go back to the hotel.”

“They?” you repeat.

He sighs. “Yeah.”

A crease appears between your eyebrows. “You’re not planning to join them?”

His gaze drops to the ground. It takes him a few seconds to reply, and you almost wish he hadn’t. “I can’t really afford to be around alcohol too much.”

Oh.

“Ah,” you let out, and you gulp. “I understand that.”

He nods, remaining silent this time around. And for a short moment, you feel like you’re back in the hospital room, telling him to leave. You wonder, did his heart stay in that room, too?

“I wanted to –” he starts at the same time as you say, “It’s good that you –”

He gives a pained smile as he stops talking, motioning to you to keep going.

“It’s good that you know to avoid alcohol,” you say. “It’s a depressant.”

He frowns, yet nods his head. “Yeah.”

You wish you hadn’t said anything.

“You were going to say?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for…”

“Jungkook, we need you to get ready,” a staff member says as she stands awkwardly to the side. 

Jungkook looks at her, and you gaze at his profile, at his nose you used to peck under the sheets in his bed. The memory flashes in your head, so real you think you could reach out and touch it. Grab it, and put it in your heart, too.

Maybe it’d fill the hole in your chest.

“Okay,” he lets out, and then he looks at you again. “I’ll talk to you later?”

His eyes are begging. Asking you to stay, to not leave again, though he was technically the one to leave in November. You give him a nod, and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your mouth for a second. He frowns imperceptibly, and you just stare at those doe eyes, wondering how it is that you went from whispering sweet nothings to each other to whatever this is.

But you know how. You know it all too well. It’s scarred in your side, and definitely in your mind too. Even though you don’t remember it exactly, you remember the how all too well.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s talk after the concert.”

His smile is truer then. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes still, but it lessens the gauntness of his features just enough for you to momentarily catch sight of the man he was before. 

“We will.”

And with that, he’s walking away. You watch him go, your heart reaching for him as he looks over his shoulder to look at you. For a moment, you think he might walk back to you, might say what he was about to say before the staff member interrupted, but he doesn’t. He grabs the clothes he’s handed by a stylist, and he disappears in the other room to get dressed. 

It takes a moment, and you’re all ushered to the actual backstage area before he comes out. You’re worried, looking back the way you came wondering if he realized he couldn’t do it. The members seem concerned too, but then Jungkook jogs to where you are, giving you a quick glance before he grabs his drumsticks from someone from production. 

And then you watch them file onto the stage, and the music starts. It’s different to experience it from here, yet you feel yourself swaying to the beat, and you let it wash over you, let it carry you through the songs that they play out there. Jennie is beside you the whole time, and then they’re running off stage to quickly change and grab some water. Jungkook looks at you as he drinks, and you give him a smile that seems to give him a boost of energy. Indeed, he goes back on stage with a bounce to his steps, and it does ease some of the ache in your chest to see it.

The stage is healing for him. He’s told you that in the past, but you witness it in person tonight. Especially after the concert, when you all return to the dressing room, and congratulations are thrown around. Jungkook is smiling then, and you think it’s genuine. Because there’s a familiar twinkle in his eyes, though it burns out when he meets your gaze, his features growing serious.

And though everyone is talking around you, hugging and smiling widely, Jungkook just looks at you, and you look at him, and it’s like you’re alone again.

If you were in that universe you imagined last Wednesday, you’d be throwing your arms around his neck right now. You’d be kissing him in front of everyone, happy and careless and lighter than a feather.

Instead, you’re filled with lead, staring at each other across a crowded room, strangers again.

You hate that you and Jungkook are turning into strangers. He must hate it too, because he walks over to you, and he nods towards the other room. You understand what he wants, and you follow him there to see that it’s indeed a bathroom, with showers on one side for the hockey players. 

“You performed well tonight,” you tell him as the door finishes to close behind you, muffling the sounds from the dressing room.

The light is dim here, the neons above turned off. There’s only some light next to the mirrors, and it casts half of Jungkook’s face in shadows.

“Thank you,” he lets out, and he leans against the sink, folding his arms on his chest.

There’s another one of those excruciating silences, and you’re the one to interrupt it this time.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry for how things went down,” you say.

The words pain him. He shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and then says, “You have nothing to be sorry about. None of it was your fault.”

You look down at the floor. “I know. But… I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

You wait for him to continue, but it takes him a moment to collect himself. 

“If I hadn’t lied…” he starts, and he lets out a bitter chuckle. “None of this would have happened.”

It’s true. But then again, you both didn’t know that those sasaengs were crazy enough to hurt you. 

“You wouldn’t have run out, you wouldn’t have gotten assaulted…”

You wince at hearing that last word in his mouth. To hear that truth said aloud by him. But mostly, to hear the bitterness and guilt coating his words. They’re dripping with it, and it makes the hole in your chest expand.

“We couldn’t know that that was going to happen,” you remind him. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves for it.”

It’s strange to say it when you’ve spent months telling yourself the opposite. But as your therapist said during your appointment yesterday, the blame is not on you or Jungkook, but on the people that attacked you.

“Say it as much as you want, Y/n, but it was my fault.”

His words fall like rocks on a thin layer of ice, shattering it. And then they plunge in icy water, sinking in your chest to lodge themselves between your ribs.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, taking a step towards him.

Your eyes are wet. He’s blurring behind the tears, and you blink them away. And you feel guilty, so so fucking guilty, because you know a part of you is putting the blame on him. It’s a disgusting part of you, one that searches for a reason for what happened to you. It’s one thing to tell yourself that only the attackers were to blame, but it’s another to believe it.

Though you reckon you don’t actually think Jungkook is to blame for it. He’s to blame for the lie that got you to run, but he asked you to stay.

How many times did he ask you to stay before you ran outside?

“We both know that’s a lie,” Jungkook says, and he sighs deeply, pushing his hair back before folding his arms on his chest again. 

“Jungkook, it wasn’t your fault,” you repeat with more conviction. “It’s important that you tell yourself that.”

He just looks at you as you step closer to him until you’re right in front of him, so close you can see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his lip.

“You didn’t stab me. You didn’t plan for those people to attack me. You couldn’t know it was going to happen.”

You don’t know who you’re trying to convince here. And as you keep talking, you realize you’re trying to convince yourself.

You’re tired of that ugly part of yourself trying to hold him responsible for things he didn’t do.

“Yes, you lied. Yes, that was shitty. But you didn’t tell me to leave that night. You told me to stay. I’m the one that didn’t listen and ran out and…” You frown, because you’re once again faced with the void in your memories. “And then those crazy people were there. But you saved my life. I’m still here because of you.”

A tear rolls on his cheek, and you don’t resist the instinct to dry it for him. Your thumb lingers on his skin for a second, and then your hand falls at your side again.

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”

He looks at you, his eyes shining silver. And then you’re cupping his cheek, and he’s leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I just can’t get the image of you lying there out of my mind,” he admits in a whisper. “It’s engraved so deep in my brain.” He gulps, and you see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I dream about it every single night.”

“I have meds for the nightmares,” you tell him. “Maybe you could look into those?”

He straightens, and your hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a heartbeat before you drop it.

“I tried therapy, and it didn’t help.”

You frown. “Of course it didn’t. It’s only been a few months.”

Jungkook remains silent this time, just looking down at you with that same gutwrenching sorrow in his eyes.

“You have to do it for longer,” you tell him. “I’ve been seeing the therapist every couple of days ever since I was out of the hospital. And I still have a long way to go.”

Still, he just stares at you.

“Please try, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Don’t give up on yourself.”

He chuckles, and it’s a choked sound that seems more painful than anything. “What’s the point, though? I still lost you in the end.”

You don’t know what else there is to break in you, but it does break at hearing his words. “But you don’t have to lose yourself.”

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that week in November,” he reveals, and tears roll down your cheeks, coming too suddenly for you to try to stop them. “I loved you.”

You don’t miss his use of the past tense, and you think it’s better that way. It’s better if the feelings died with the pain of the last few months. Because you wouldn’t be able to be with him.

You don’t think you’d be able to heal by his side. Because he’s a reminder of what happened, whether you like it or not.

The universe made it impossible for you and Jeon Jungook to be together in the end.

“And I would have said yes,” you reply, your voice wavering with the tears. “I would have told you I loved you back, but that didn’t happen. And it’s unfortunate, and really fucking sad, but we both need to move on.” You wipe your cheeks, closing your eyes to try and find strength for your next words. “We owe it to each other.”

He’s crying too. You’re both two broken fucking messes, but you’re allowed your closure. No matter how much it hurts.

“But what if I don’t want to move on?” he asks. “I’m still in that fucking hospital room with you, Y/n. I was so scared you were never going to wake up.”

“But I did.” You meet his gaze, standing strong in the face of the grief breaking his eyes. “I did and I’m here today, and I want us both to be able to move on and heal.”

“You came here to tell me this?” he lets out, like he can’t believe it. “I thought…” He pauses, shuts his eyes tight. “Jimin said…” Another pause. “I wanted to believe you wanted to reconnect.”

“Jungkook, I can’t…”

“I miss you so much. So fucking much, every day. It doesn’t make sense without you.”

“Jungkook.”

“No!” he practically yells. “You don’t get to say my name like this. Why did you even come here if it was to tell me this?”

You don’t know where that anger is coming from, but anger is a lot easier to face than grief.

“Because we deserved closure.”

He laughs, and it’s so pained, so sad, and you need to leave. 

You’re about to break irreparably, and you don’t want him to witness it.

“You don’t think I got closure when you asked me to leave after I was at your bedside for a week and a half?”

“You texted me for weeks after that,” you remind him. 

He turns around, gripping the side of the sink. “So you saw those texts, but never got around to reply?”

You sob. It wracks through you even though you try to stop it, and Jungkook curses loudly.

“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit, and it’s true.

Just like with Mingyu, you didn’t know what to say. So you chose the coward way out, and stayed silent instead.

“That’s fucking bullshit.” He turns the faucet on, and then bends down to splash water in his face. You don’t know why he does it, but when it’s done and the tap is off, he straightens, meeting your gaze in the mirror with water dripping down his face, mixing with his tears. “I nearly killed myself during those weeks. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, couldn’t spend more than a minute awake without being drunk because all I could see was you in that fucking alley. And I was hoping you’d come back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply to me.”

“I was healing from getting beaten up and stabbed,” you throw back. “I did not have energy for anything else, Jungkook.”

The fight leaves him, and his head hangs low, his hair hiding his features from you. He takes a deep breath that breaks on a choked sob, and you just watch him cry while you cry too, and you wonder if that’s the last thing you’ll do together.

Cry.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers when he’s calmed down. “I’m sorry I got mad.”

You reach out, almost touching his back, but you stop yourself before your fingers find the fabric of his shirt. “It’s okay. It really is okay.”

And it is. Because it’s better if all the feelings are out instead of festering in his chest or yours, isn’t it?

“How can it be okay?” he asks.

“We promise each other we’ll move on,” you whisper. “We move on and we heal.”

He’s crying again, and he turns back around to look at you. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Try therapy for real,” you tell him. “It will help.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” you insist. “I promise.”

There’s a silence of you holding each other’s gaze, and you take his features in. Commit them to memory, locking them in your heart next to that hole. Though, as you put them there, you realize that hole was always shaped like him. 

Will always be shaped like him, too.

“So, this is it?” he asks.

You nod, finding yourself unable to speak. Jungkook curses, and then he pulls you to him, wrapping you in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as you cry again. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and he holds you tight. For a second, you think the pieces of you are glueing back together, and you hold onto him, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. You let his scent wrap around you, let him hold you.

Your heart beats in sync with his, breaking along with his. Jungkook is the first to break the silence.

“I’ll miss you.”

The tears come faster, and you hold him tighter, too. “I’ll miss you too.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll read all of your books,” he promises, his voice heavy with emotion.

“And I’ll listen to all of your songs,” you promise back.

“I’ll never forget you.”

You know he won’t. And you won’t either. In another life, Jeon Jungkook was your soulmate.

“Me neither. But I promise I will heal, and I really want you to heal, too.”

He doesn’t say anything for a time, just holding you close. And then he whispers, “I promise I will try.”

You really hope he does.

Prev | Next

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i am fucking sobbing again and again. this story really is the saddest i've ever written, i'm so sorry. let me know what you think of this chapter! and feel free to scream at me

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, February 11th

You haven’t been back in your home country for a while now. Last time you were here, summer blasted at the world outside, Chelsea’s wedding at the summit of it all, but now winter has closed its clutches around the city you grew up in, and part of you wishes you were back in Korea, where the weather has been a little warmer over the last few days.

But now that your ribs have healed, you’ve decided to come home for a while, to stay with your family and visit Stella in person, along with the publishing house. They were wanting to set up a meeting with you whenever you were ready to discuss your plans in terms of writing for the next few months considering you haven’t done anything since…

Since your assault.

They’ve made it clear that there is no pressure though, repeating it multiple times while you were sitting across from them earlier. They said that they pushed you to release your last book a lot faster than they usually do, and they want to give you a break while you focus on healing.

They claimed they’ll be there whenever you’re ready again, but you know the publishing world is cutthroat. There’s a chance they’ll have moved to the next big sensation by then and, strangely, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not because of being numb like you were in December, but just because your energy is focused elsewhere right now.

After consulting the doctors back in Korea, you’ve managed to convince them to lower the dose of your meds just a little bit. Indeed, you’ve been wanting to feel something, craving emotions other than the overwhelming sadness you get whenever you end up thinking about a boy with doe eyes and soft lips. It’s been a strange adjustment, but you like it better like this. 

You want to face the emotions head on to be able to heal instead of just pretending that nothing ever happened. You’ve been practicing going outside alone back in Seoul, just to stand outside of your building for a little while before coming back in. You even managed a short walk five minutes away from your condominium not too long before you came back to your home country, but that’s all you’ve managed to do on your own so far.

So Jennie came all the way here with you, as shooting for her movie wrapped up at the end of January. With her, or with Hyunseok, you’ve been able to live some sort of a… normal life. You’ve gone to a restaurant twice, visited Jennie’s place once, and you even went shopping with Hyunseok last week, but they always had to come meet you at your place first.

But this is good. Being back home, so far away from all the trauma, is good. It’s practice from being away from your comfort zone, and it’s been healing.

You don’t think you’ll ever get back to how you were before the assault, some innocence forever stolen from you, but you’re already doing better. 

Support goes a long way, in situations like this one. And maybe you won’t ever be able to walk around at night alone again, but at least you have people that understand it. And you don’t think it matters – you can always take a taxi if you need to get to places alone. But you haven’t had to do anything alone once since it all happened, Hyunseok coming with you to every single one of your medical appointments.

Your therapist thinks you’re doing admirable progress, and fast. You reckon it’s all because of her. Her clinical insight, her gentle approach, and the way she makes you feel seen and understood has really been helping with dealing with the anxiety you’ve developed. 

You haven’t developed PTSD. She said maybe it’ll show up later, in ways you just haven’t encountered yet, but you have been trying to be positive. 

The anxiety is enough, and how would you even develop PTSD about something you don’t remember? You’re no expert in mental health, though, and you know the brain works in weird ways. You could indeed eventually develop PTSD, but so far you’ve been okay. You reckon that it helps that you take meds that fully prevent you from dreaming.

You still remember the nightmares that you had before they gave you the meds. Well, you don’t remember the nightmares exactly, but you remember the fear, the terror that lingered after you woke up from them. Maybe that was PTSD, and maybe you’ve just been keeping it at bay with medication. But if it works, it works, and you won’t complain. You want to learn to be as normal as possible again. You want to be independent from people, you want to move on from what happened. With that drive, your therapist thinks you’ll be able to learn to manage everything faster than most people do.

What she doesn’t understand is, you need to go back to normal. You need to be able to do the things you used to, or else you’ll go insane. One of the reasons why you really wanted to come back home was because it allowed you to be away from your apartment for a while. It’s a nice apartment, though very small, but it’s been driving you insane these past weeks, making you feel like an animal in a cage.

But being here, even though it’s cold and there are feet of snow on the lawn in front of your parents’ house in the suburbs, has been freeing. You left some heaviness back in Korea that you hope won’t return when you go back…

If you go back. You’ve been starting to think of cutting your year abroad short to come back here instead, but you haven’t made a decision yet.

“That went… decently well,” Stella says next to you as you walk out of the publishing house, snowflakes swirling down from the clouded sky. 

They’re lazy, chasing each other in a slow waltz as they fall, and they’re already littering the sidewalk, snow crunching under your feet as you walk towards the coffeeshop where Jennie is waiting for you.

“It did,” you agree. “But honestly Stella… I don’t know if I’ll be able to write anytime soon.”

“That’s okay,” she reassures you. “I am ready to fight tooth and nail to keep them off your back. You’re allowed to take all the time that you need.” She flashes a quick smile. “Besides, they’re kind of biting their tongue now that they’ve had bad reviews about how the book felt rushed.”

Indeed, those have come out since you’ve published. You didn’t really pay it any mind as you were lost in the daze induced by your assault, but there has been a lot of comments about how the book felt rushed compared to your other books. 

It was rushed. They pushed you like crazy to get a book out in under a year. You felt like you could do it, and you’re proud of what you did with the time that you had, but it was to be expected. Indeed, typos were found in the book, which they wouldn’t have had it undergone more revision. Some of the prints had pages missing, others were printed the wrong way…

A lot of mistakes that would have been avoided if the book wasn’t rushed. But thankfully, the story has only received praises, so the bad reviews haven’t gone to your head too much.

You’d warned the publishing house that this would happen, and they refused to listen. So it’s on them, and you won’t take responsibility for their shortcomings.

“Yeah,” you let out.

“You take your time with everything, okay?” Stella says. “And if you need to stop writing for a while, know that I’ll be there whenever, or if ever you decide to write again.”

“Thank you.” You glance her way, lips curled upwards. “I’m sure I’ll go back to writing eventually. It’s just, with the concussion and healing I just… don’t feel like it.”

“Which is totally normal and expected,” she replies. “No one is actually expecting you to start writing right now. And if they do, I’ll beat the shit out of them. Metaphorically.”

If she realizes that she accidentally alluded to your own assault, she doesn’t let it show. You’re thankful for it – the hardest part of it all is when people act like something happened to you. Like your brothers, who have been incredibly awkward since you came home.

Like they expect you to break if they say something. It makes it all too real, and it’s the last thing you need.

You snort. “That sounds a little excessive.”

“You know I’d go to war for you,” Stella adds. 

You do know. Your mother told you she almost flew to Korea when she found out what happened to you, claiming she wanted to bring justice to the assholes that attacked you. Like she was the heroine of a book, maybe even the main character from your book, who did fly to Korea after her father was killed after all.

“I’d go to war for you too,” you tell her.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a half hug. She’s taller than you, and she leans her head on yours for a few seconds. “I love you, Y/n. I know I’m your agent and you literally pay me for this, but I love you.”

Your gaze grows wet, and you quickly blink it away as you reach a red light. You stare at the hand indicating for you to wait before crossing the street, taking a deep breath.

“You’re family at this point,” you tell her. “My mother said you and Allie should come have dinner this weekend. She’ll make her roast beef.”

“I would kill for your mother’s roast beef,” she declares. “I’ll check with Allie, but we could probably come Friday. We have something with the in-laws on Saturday.”

“I’ll let my mother know.”

The hand turns to a little person walking, and you cross the street, reaching the coffeeshop. Jennie is inside, and you see two teenagers talking to her excitedly through the window. She’s smiling to them politely, but you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.

“Gotta go rescue Jennie,” you tell Stella, and she glances inside, wincing.

“You’d think she would get recognized less here,” Stella says with a sigh. “I’d help, but I have a meeting with another author.”

“Cheating, I see,” you tease.

She chuckles, and then she pulls you into a tight hug. “I’d never cheat on you.”

You snort, returning the hug. “I know you wouldn’t.”

You say goodbye, and Stella waves as she heads towards where her car is parked a little down the street. You get into the coffeeshop before she reaches it though, and the bells above the door ring as the door shuts behind you, the warm coffee-scented atmosphere wrapping around you like another warm hug.

You head towards Jennie, and she spots you between the two girls in front of her. Her features relax as she notices you, and she gets up from her chair.

“Well, it was nice to meet you two,” she says as you near her, and the two girls look at you, gaze widening.

“Oh, Jungkook’s girlfriend!”

You think your heart drops to the floor. Hell, you think it turned to glass and shattered upon impact. 

You are not Jungkook’s girlfriend. You’d never be his girlfriend, not after everything that happened.

“Let’s go,” Jennie says as she sees the look on your face. “Hope you girls enjoy the concert.”

She walks to you as she’s putting her coat on, her scarf and purse clutched in one hand, and she grabs your arm, pulling you behind her. It doesn’t take too long before you’re back outside, winter grasping at your exposed skin once more. It makes your cheek prickle, and you wish you had a scarf to hide your face in.

You forgot it in Korea. And didn’t bother to get one here, though you reckon you could have stolen one of your mother’s scarves.

“Oh my God,” Jennie lets out as she quickly wraps her own bright red scarf around her neck. “They were not leaving me alone.” She sighs, glancing at you. “I’m sorry they said that.”

You shrug. “A lot of people have assumed we’re dating after what happened.”

And it’s true. The comments on your posts on Instagram are filled with such thoughts, mixed throughout the comments about your book.

“I hate that people just assume,” Jennie grumbles, and then she looks across the street, where your father’s SUV is parked. “Want to go home?”

You nod, digging in your purse to retrieve the keys. “Yeah.”

You’d originally planned to stop for food on the way, but as you’re driving home, your mother calls to say she made your favourite soup, and that she can make you grilled cheese when you get home. She doesn’t ask about the meeting, which you’re relieved about.

You’re kind of tired of talking about writing for today. You just want to go home, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch some stupid show on Netflix with Jennie. But Jennie did not get the memo, because the second you hang up with your mother, she says, “Hope your meeting went well.”

You wince internally, checking your mirrors as you switch lanes for the slower one. “Yeah, it did. They seemed…” you trail off, searching for the right word. “Understanding, but I’m not sure if it was a load of bullshit.”

“Hopefully not.” You feel her gaze on your profile, and you quickly glance her way before resuming your attention on the highway. “I feel like that whole meeting could have been an email. Kind of cruel to make you come all the way here for that.”

“Well, I was coming here regardless,” you point out. “Might as well just go, you know?”

“Fair.” There’s a short silence, only interrupted by the squeak of the wipers as they move across the windshield. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“In general?” you ask, but you don’t wait for her to reply. “Good. Just… tired.”

“I mean, it was a long day outside of the house,” she says, even though it wasn’t that long. “Makes sense that you’d feel tired.”

You meet her gaze for a heartbeat or two. “Honestly… It’s easier here.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “It’s so far from everything that happened, you know?” You shrug. “Makes it easier to forget it ever happened.”

“That’s good,” Jennie gently says. “Really good.”

You smile, but it’s sad. “Maybe I should move back here.”

The silence that follows is heavy, though filled with understanding. Especially when Jennie breaks it to say, “You have to do what is right for you. If you think that that is what you need, then I fully support it, even if I’ll miss you.”

“I just think…” You chuckle, even though there is nothing funny about it at all. “I just think it’d be better, you know?”

“That makes sense.”

And you really think it does. The more you think of it, the more it does make sense. You’d move back in with your parents. You could claim the basement as your own, as it’s already an apartment that one of your brothers stayed in during college. It even has its own separate door. You could take time away from everything, with the other half of your support circle, to heal and rebuild yourself. You’d have to change therapists, but you had a therapist here in the past and could probably reach out to her.

And you’d be far away from him. From the reminders of him, from the moments you shared together. You wouldn’t have to live with those memories, to be haunted by them anymore.  

You doubt there’s any better way to heal than to be far from everything about him. Or far from almost everything. 

They have concerts here this weekend. Two of them, one on Friday and one on Saturday. Jennie mentioned it in passing to you as you were flying home, and you pretended you didn’t hear. She hasn’t talked about it again, and apart from the posters and ads you’ve seen in the city, it’s like he’s not here.

He isn’t. He’s most likely still in some other city. At least you’ve been telling yourself that constantly.

Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to leave the house for a whole other reason.

Later that evening, when you and Jennie sit on the couch in the basement under a thick, fluffy blanket, binge-watching some reality TV show, you glance at Jennie. She’s been on her phone the whole time, most likely talking to Taehyung, and you watch as she smiles softly. She looks younger like this, without any makeup, her celebrity personality stripped away.

“You’re not even paying attention,” you tease her, gently kicking her under the blanket.

She chuckles. “Mingee likes Seungil,” she says. “And Mina Sue is just mad.”

“Okay, maybe you’re paying attention a little,” you admit. “But who are you texting like this?”

“Tae,” she replies. “He wants us to go to the concert on Saturday.”

You freeze for the second time today. This time, your heart stays in your chest, but you immediately say, “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going to their concert.”

Jennie just stares at you unblinkingly, clearly unimpressed.

“What?” you let out.

“Why not?” she asks.

You widen your gaze, pausing the TV. “What do you mean, why not?”

“It’s been better here, yeah?” 

You frown. “It’s been better because I’m away from everything.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jennie sighs, glancing at her phone. “Would you be upset if I went without you?”

“Of course not!” you quickly say. “You miss Tae, and he’ll be right next door. Go see him.”

“But I’m here for you, not for him.”

Fuck, you love her so bad.

“Babe, he’s your boyfriend, I’m just happy you get to see him after all this time apart.” 

Indeed, Taehyung only managed to go back to Korea for a few days during the holidays, though some of them were spent with his family while Jennie was with hers.

“I’d stay with him Saturday evening, though. You sure that would be okay with you?”

You smile. “Yeah, I’ll just stay here with my parents. They’re not bad company.”

She snorts. “Your parents are adorable.”

Indeed, they are. They’ve always loved each other deeply, which is definitely why you grew up to be such a romantic, and a romance writer too.

That settles the conversation, as Jennie smiles a little wider while she replies to Taehyung, clearly telling him that she’ll go. And you can almost imagine yourself in her position, texting someone else.

For a moment, you see the scene from an outside perspective like it’s a movie playing on the TV. You see it as you stand on the edge of the gaping hole in your chest, looking down at it.

In another universe, you never get assaulted by the sasaengs outside of Jungkook’s house. In that universe, you would have made your relationship official while he was in Korea. You’d be here on this couch with Jennie excited to go to the concert with her, to see him after the months apart. 

You’d be backstage, cheering for him, holding him close whenever he’d get off the stage even though he’d be sweaty. He’d tell you he loves you, and you’d tell him you love him back.

In that universe, you got your happy ending. Not this bullshit that has fucked you up so bad you doubt you’ll ever be the same again.

You’re crying. You don’t know when you started crying, but Jennie looks up, putting her phone down.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” she asks. “I’ll stay, it’s okay.”

You put your hands on your face as a sob wracks through you, making you choke around nothing. And you try to speak, but no words come out, staying lodged in your throat. Jennie pulls you to her chest, holding you tight.

You wish she could hold you tight enough to keep all your pieces together, but you fear only one person could do that, and you don’t want to ever see him again.

You can’t see him. Not when you know it’ll awaken trauma and pain and you just seek healing. But fuck, you wish the conditions surrounding you and him were different. You wish the end wasn’t so fucking dramatic, like something you’d see in a horror movie.

But you don’t fit in his world. Not when there will always be people threatening you for what you are to him.

“What’s wrong?” Jennie asks again as you cling to her like you would to a buoy in a storm.

“He’ll be here,” you choke out.

She rubs your back. “Oh, babe.”

“I’m so tired, Jennie, I’m so fucking tired.”

You think she’s crying too. She’s shaking, and she’s so sympathetic you know your pain breaks her heart just as much as it breaks yours.

“I know.” 

She rocks you from side to side as you cry, but you just keep on breaking, like you should have when you first woke up from the coma.

You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of clinically ill jealousy. You didn’t deserve for him to lie. You didn’t deserve every single shitty thing that happened.

Where would you be, if you’d never gone to Korea?

Home. You’d be home. Here, not the one you found in his arms. 

You wish you’d never gone to Seoul at all.

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do,” you say when the sobs have lessened, even though the tears just keep on coming. “Everyone just says that I just need time to heal, but my body has healed, and I don’t remember shit about it all, yet it all just still fucking hurts.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Jennie sounds desperate, and you hate it so much you wish you’d never burdened her with the darkness in your head.

It’s been there since the assault. You were just good at pretending it wasn’t.

“There’s nothing to say.” You pull back, sitting back in your spot as you glance at the paused TV. “I think part of me will always see him as responsible for what happened in some way, and I feel so fucking bad about it.”

Silence follows the truth. It’s heavy, weighing a thousand pounds, and a glance Jennie’s way shows that she’s indeed crying.

“I think that’s the problem,” you say as she blurs behind a new onslaught of tears. “I’m aware it’s not his fault, but if he hadn’t been a celebrity… None of this would have ever happened. And maybe we’d be together today. Maybe we’d be in love and I’d be able to be with him without thinking I might get killed for it. How crazy is it that I almost was killed just because I know him?”

“Y/n…”

“No, but it’s different for you, cause you’re a celebrity too. People expect him to be with someone like you. Not with the random writer from another country.”

“You should never listen to what the fans say,” Jennie whispers, and then she adds, voice stronger, “Y/n, and trust me when I say this, but it doesn’t matter who you are. They hated me for years when I was first dating Tae, long before the military service. And then they saw how depressed he got after we broke up the first time, and when we got back together, everyone was happy.” She pauses, wipes her cheeks. “At the end of the day, true fans just want them to be happy. The people that did that to you…”

You’re crying so hard again you have to pull the blanket to your face. 

“The people that did that to you weren’t fans. They were criminals, and they’re in prison for it. And honestly part of me thinks they deserve much worse than prison, because I see the impact it had on you and I fucking miss the girl that you were before.”

She chuckles sadly. “Like, who’d just randomly go to the basement of a club with someone she just met? More than that, who cheers up someone they don’t know like you did that night? You were so strong, you still are so fucking strong, but I met you and I was like ‘Damn, I wish that I was like her’. And that’s why I wanted to be friends with you, because you were so down to earth and fun to be around and just…” 

She stops, taking a deep breath.

“I see the way they broke you. I see you fighting to stay afloat and I wish they got a lot worse than prison time.” The words are said with so much anger you feel its fire. “And I wish I could fix everything for you.”

She falls silent, like all the fight suddenly drained out of her. You look at each other, and you wish you could go back a few months ago and tell Jungkook to not come back to Korea. Maybe none of this would have happened in the end.

“I wish you and Jungkook would have gotten to love each other,” Jennie adds in the barest hint of whisper. “I wish you both were not hurting like you are now. And I wish he’d never lied. I know he hates himself for it. Hates himself for everything that happened.”

“It’d break him if he knew what I told you,” you say when she stops talking again. “Jennie, I hate it so bad. But I feel like, if I see him, everything will come rushing back.”

“I know.” She wipes the silver lining her gaze again. “I understand now. And I’m so, so sorry you feel this way.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad?” You give her a nod, and she tilts her head to the side, confused. “No, why would I be?”

You shrug. “Because it’s unfair that I feel this way. That I feel like it’s his fault.”

“Babe, you went through hell. I think that gives you the right to feel any way you want.”

“Does it, though?”

She thinks about it for a moment, and then says, “Listen, I wish you wouldn’t. I obviously wish my two friends could be happy together, because you guys seemed so happy in Jeju. You both lit up whenever the other was there, or was mentioned. But what happened got in the way of that, and it’s just life. It’d be useless and stupid to be mad at one of you for it. Neither of you is responsible.”

A tear slips on your cheek, streaming down to your chin, where it lingers without falling. “I know I promised you I would speak to him one day, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“You don’t have to,” she reassures you. “Babe, you really don’t have to.”

“I just…” you trail off.

And as you trail off, another one of those things you’ve ignored comes bursting out of the hole in your chest. Because what if you don’t talk to him, and spend a life regretting it? What’s a lifetime of regret over a conversation that might hurt?

What if you need to face the trauma to finally move forward?

What if talking to him would bring more peace than pain? And what if it does bring more pain? Wouldn’t the pain catch up to you eventually anyway? You can’t spend a lifetime trying to pretend you and him ended that night. Because you didn’t. The feelings are still down there in the gaping hole in your chest, just waiting for the moment to come out. Like they did earlier as you imagined what it would have been like in another universe. And even though it’s painful, even though you don’t think you’ll still be standing by the end of it all, maybe you should confront the feelings.

Maybe closure is what you need.

It’s like the storm cloud passes suddenly. Breathing becomes easier, the hole in your chest decreases until it’s not crushing your lungs anymore. You feel like you’re lighter, though that might just be post-crying clarity. But the storm cloud does pass, and there’s sunlight on the horizon. Piercing through it all, painting the clouds with gold. 

And maybe you and him were just that. The golden hour before the sun sets. No matter how ephemeral it was, no matter how it ended with darkness thicker than a moonless night…

You deserve closure.

“Actually,” you let out. You gulp, meeting Jennie’s gaze. “Actually, I want to talk to him.”

She blinks a few times, and a tear escapes and falls on her cheek. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

And you realize it’s the first time you haven’t lied since you woke up from the coma.

Friday, February 13th

Performing has never been so hard as it is tonight. Jungkook plays with a lump in his throat, his energy off all night. He’s been trying his best, telling himself that even if you’re not here, performing for your city is like having a piece of you here with him…

But the more he plays, the harder it gets, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it through the full concert. Especially not when they finally have a break, and he runs off stage first, Taehyung close behind.

He needs out. He needs to breathe, to drink something so that the pain can fade for just a few seconds. But he’s been good at avoiding alcohol. It’s dangerous when he’s in this mental state. And though he was able to have a beer the other day without anything bad happening, he was not here.

He was not in the city you grew up in. 

Hell, he feels like he sees you in the crowd. You’re fucking everywhere here, and he can’t do it anymore.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, grabbing Jungkook’s shoulders.

Jungkook realizes he’s crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Namjoon appears next to them. “Breathe, JK. You’re okay.”

Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because it’s absurd to think that he’s okay. 

He’ll never be okay again.

“Do you need to sit the rest of the concert out?” Namjoon asks. “We got the track ready to play if needed.”

“I want to play,” Jungkook says. “I just can’t, I see her everywhere out there.”

“Then take a break,” Taehyung says. “Every single person in the arena understands.”

Jungkook knows they do. The outpour of love he’s been on the receiving end of since he’s returned to tour with the boys has been unlike anything from before. It’s been healing in some way. To think that at least he didn’t lose that. To see that the fans, the real ones, understood.

But they’ll never understand the pain that he carries every single fucking day. 

“I just want to be strong for the fans,” he says.

Taehyung pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight. “You are strong, JK. Some concerts are just harder, and that’s okay.”

Jungkook nods as he pulls back from the hug. He feels nauseous, and he reckons he really needs some air.

“I’ll try to come back for the encore.”

He doubts he’ll be able to, but he feels too guilty for abandoning the boys like this. So as they return on the stage, he drinks water, sits with a blanket on his shoulders. And he tries to meditate, tries to do some breathing exercises that were recommended to him in the single therapy appointment he managed to go to. It helps a little, and he feels calmer when the boys return backstage before the encore.

“You sure you can do this?” Namjoon asks as they all stand in a semi-circle around Jungkook.

He nods. “I have to.”

Namjoon holds his gaze, and then claps Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

And then he’s back on the stage, sitting at his drumset. He grabs the sticks, and they feel foreign in his hands. Less so when he closes his eyes to play, and the rhythm carries him through the first song of the encore.

But then he makes a mistake on the second song. It’s a minor mistake, but it hurts so bad he starts crying, right there in the spotlight. He stops playing, unable to continue, and Taehyung looks at him from where he’s been playing the trumpet, and he runs over to Jungkook as the song loses yet another instrument.

Jimin is the next to join them, and then all the members run to Jungkook, and they hug him, like they’re protecting him from the world outside. The fans are screaming, and Jungkook wonders if he can just disappear through the floor.

It’s one thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of your closest friends, in front of your family. It’s an entire other thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of the whole world.

To think it’ll get to you…

He almost texted you earlier today. Being here in your city made him feel closer to you than he’s felt in months, but when he opened the conversation thread to see all the drunk texts he sent and you ignored, he broke down yet again. 

He doesn’t know how to heal from losing you. From being responsible for what happened to you. From not running out in the street when he should have the second you went outside. 

Where would he be now if he had? He likes to think that you would have made up, walked back into the house and he’d told you he loves you. But he was stupid, and prioritized someone that he never should have over you, and his mistakes led you to where you are now.

When the members pull back to reveal the crowd, Jungkook sees himself on the big screen. He looks terrible, and he chuckles as he wipes his cheeks. And then he grabs Seokjin’s mic, and gets up from his stool.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes to the crowd, and the scream goes wild. “I just want to say…” He looks at all the members, and then dries another tear on his cheek as the arena quietens. “Please tell the people you love that you love them before you lose them. Please don’t let your pride get in the way.” People scream, and he knows it’s clear he’s speaking of you, but the fans have been there for him. “Love is the most important thing in life. Don’t ever forget that.”

He’s then crying too much again to say something more, and he hands the mic back to Seokjin as the members wrap him in a hug again. They end up leaving the stage without playing the rest of the encore, and though the fans scream outside for them to come back, Namjoon tells the staff to turn on the lights in the arena.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks Jungkook as they sit where he was earlier.

It’s strange and cold in here – it’s clearly a locker room for whatever hockey team the arena that they are in is for – and Jungkook doesn’t know what to reply.

He’s not feeling great. He’s feeling horrible. Broken, astray, part of his heart forever lost in the blood spilled that night. In the light going out of your eyes. In your cold skin and the ambulance ride.

Hell, he really thinks part of him really did die that night. He doubts he’ll ever recover from that.

“I wish I could just sleep through the next year,” Jungkook says.

He rubs his face, though it does nothing to soften the edges of his broken heart.

“If you need to go on hiatus again, you know that we’ll all support you, right?” Taehyung gently says.

Jungkook nods. “I know. But I don’t want to fail the fans.”

And mostly, he doesn’t want to have time to get lost in his head more than he already is. He barely found the way back the last time. Most likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Jennie.

“I don’t think the fans would feel like you’re failing them at all. What you went through…” Taehyung trails off. “Most people would not be here today if they were in your position.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I’m just doing what I have to do.”

“I know.” Taehyung sighs, and then he looks to the side, where Jimin’s been sitting in silence. “Listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you before.”

Jungkook raises his head from the vague spot he was staring at on the floor. “What?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look that seems to hold a full conversation. “I thought it was better to not say anything before the concert tonight, so I didn’t say anything,” Taehyung says. “But Jennie and Y/n are here.”

Jungkook’s heart stops. “Here?”

Taehyung nods. “Not at the concert tonight but…”

“They’re coming tomorrow,” Jimin finishes for Taehyung. 

Jungkook is sure he’s heard it wrong. He pinches his arm, trying to make sure he’s not stuck in one of his nightmares. “What?”

“Y/n came to visit family, and Jennie came with her,” Taehyung explains. “Since we were having concerts here, I invited Jennie.”

That makes sense. She’s his girlfriend, and they haven’t seen each other in months.

But why the fuck would you want to come?

“And Jennie told me she’d come with Y/n,” Taehyung adds. “I think she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

His heart squeezes painfully, blood dripping between his ribs at the thought of you not being able to be left alone.

Are you doing as bad as he is? You went through worse than he did, after all.

He’s just a pathetic coward.

“Oh,” he lets out.

“They’ll be backstage,” Jimin adds. “If you think you can’t… see Y/n, you’re fully allowed to sit the concert out tomorrow.”

Another absurd thing to even consider. Because why wouldn’t he want to see you?

He’s been dying to see you. Been dying to talk to you, to hear your voice…

It’s like one of his nightmares turning into a dream come through.

“At the same time, figured you guys might need to talk?” Taehyung adds after he and Jimin exchange another long look. “What do you think?”

He thinks his heart is beating so fast all of a sudden it might just go into heart attack territory.

“I’ll be there,” Jungkook says with a nod.

“Just…” Jimin lets out. “She might not want to talk at all, you know? Just don’t get your hopes up.”

It doesn’t matter if you want to talk or not. The fact that he’ll see you, in the flesh…

It really is a dream come through.

Saturday, February 14th 

You didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day. Like the universe decided to bring you back to Jungkook on some sick, twisted joke of the holiday that represents everything you’ve lost. When you saw the date earlier while getting ready for the concert with Jennie, you cried.

She held you, rubbed your back soothingly, and said it was okay if you didn’t want to go. That she understood. You know she does, but ever since Wednesday, you’ve been feeling some sort of gentle peace at the idea of seeing him. So you held onto that peace, dried your tears, and steeled yourself to finish getting ready.

And now you’re being ushered backstage after Jennie showed the passes on her phone to security. You’re anxious, hands shaking, throat closing, and you reckon this might be a bad idea. But Jennie senses your unease, grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. The quiet show of support makes you grow emotional, but you blink the tears away, refusing to break down in front of strangers.

You cried enough last Wednesday. Now is not the time for tears anymore.

The first of the members you see is Taehyung, just as expected as he and Jennie have been texting. She let him know you got here the second you did, and so you’re not surprised he’s waiting outside of the dressing room, just wearing a white tank top. It’s tucked in his black pants, and he somehow looks elegant despite the simplicity of the look.

It makes sense. He and Jennie both have a simple elegance that just goes well together, even though they also can get extra sometimes.

Taehyung looks up from his phone as he hears you arrive, and his gaze catches on Jennie. You let go of her hand, pushing her towards him, and they run to each other, Taehyung picking her up the floor and spinning her in a circle before putting her down. It reminds you of the way Jungkook greeted you all those months ago, and you blink some more tears away as your gaze drops to the ground.

“Y/n,” Taehyung says once he’s done greeting his girlfriend.

Not expecting to hear him say your name, you look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles at you, so genuine you wonder what’s going on.

“I’m so happy you’re here today.”

Jennie gives you an encouraging nod next to him as you glance at her.

“Huh, thank you,” you let out, cheeks burning. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“How have you been doing?” he asks next.

Your throat is dry, uncomfortably so, and you clear it as you hold onto the strap of your purse tighter, wishing maybe Jennie would still be holding your hand.

“I’ve been okay,” you say, and it’s not quite a lie.

You haven’t been good, obviously, but you could be worse. You could be at the bottom of the barrel like you were on Wednesday, but you’re not. You’re standing in the arena where they’re having a concert later tonight, and you feel stronger than you’ve felt in months.

Taehyung nods, glancing at his girlfriend. “Are you guys ready to go in?”

You know the question is more for you than it is for Jennie, especially as they both look at you. You just stand there for a few seconds, wondering if you are, as a matter of fact, ready to see Jungkook, but then fate decides to choose for you, the door opening to reveal Jungkook on the other side.

He slams the door shut the second you meet his gaze like he’s a child caught doing something he shouldn’t, and you can’t help the small smile on your lips. Though you reckon the smile might be more nervous than anything, especially as it dies when the door opens again, only to reveal Jimin this time.

“Y/n!” Jimin lets out with far more enthusiasm than you expected from him. 

You got along well in Jeju, that is true. But you haven’t had a single interaction with him since then, so you didn’t expect the camaraderie to have lingered all this time.

“Jimin,” you greet him with a small bow.

He walks over to you, leaving the door open, and you peek over his shoulder to try to see Jungkook, but he’s disappeared from view.

You hate that it disappoints you. That your heart sinks in your chest, but what could you expect? You’ve been ignoring him for months, and the last time you saw him, you just asked him to leave.

Jimin opens his arms, stopping in front of you with an eyebrow cocked in question like he’s not sure it’s okay to hug you. You were unaware you were on hugging terms with him at all, but the familiarity of the gesture is sweet, so you wrap your arms around him loosely. He pats your back gently, and then steps back to look at you.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he says, and then he looks behind. He freezes in that position for a second, and then looks at you again. “I thought he was right behind me.”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “No worries.”

“I just want to say…” Jimin starts, and he glances around to make sure that no one is paying attention. 

Besides Jennie and Taehyung, the staff that led you here left, and there are some body guards by the door that you recognize from having seen them before.

You think one of them is actually the one that was there when you first met Jennie and Jungkook at the club back in May.

“Be patient tonight?” Jimin finishes. “JK has been shitting himself all day, so…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Taehyung says from behind.

Jimin winces. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I guess you’ll see for yourself.”

It’s ominous. And there are shadows in Jimin’s eyes as he says it, like it’s worse than you might be expecting. It makes you even more anxious than you already were, and you gulp as you nod, meeting Jennie’s gaze.

“Okay,” you let out.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, and then Taehyung says something you don’t care to listen to, and you’re all filing into the dressing room, closing the door behind you. 

The dressing room is hectic. There are stylists and makeup artists and hairstylists bustling around, getting everyone ready to go on stage. There are a few chairs in a corner, and the walls are lined with benches, a clear indication that this room is also where the hockey team gets ready before matches. You think the smell of sweat lingers in the air, typical of locker rooms like this one, but it’s mixed with the fumes from hairspray, so it’s hard to tell.

Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi are getting their hair done, and you glance around, trying to find a familiar doe-eyed boy. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you do spy Seokjin by a door that most likely leads to the bathroom. Seokjin spots you at the same time you do him, and he waves at you with a smile before walking into the bathroom.

Taehyung and Jimin leave you and Jennie shortly, having to get dressed, and Jennie pulls you to a table with an array of food – sandwiches, vegetables and water bottles. You grab a water bottle, opening it to take a swig of water that you hope will calm your nerves. 

“You still okay?” Jennie asks.

You nod. “All good.”

“You let me know if you need to leave,” she adds, repeating what she’s already said a thousand times.

All you do is nod again, and then you glance toward the door leading to the bathroom. It opens, and Jungkook walks out, and for a moment, everything pauses around you – the sounds, Jennie’s arm as it was raising to her mouth, a cucumber in hand. The chatter fades, the hecticness of the room being replaced by a calm void. And in that void, there is you and Jungkook, your gazes meeting.

He’s changed. He’s lost a lot of weight over the months, something you’ve already realized from the pictures you saw of him online. His cheeks are gaunt, his hair longer than it was the last time you saw him. There’s a hollowness to his gaze, a sensation of deep emptiness that makes you feel like you’re falling, with nothing to catch you this time. He doesn’t smile at the sight of you. The corners of his lips twitch, which you reckon might have been his best try at a smile, but all you can see is the sadness in those doe eyes.

The longing and yearning that echoes in the hole in your chest can be found in his eyes, too. And it’s only then that you truly understand how bad he’s been doing.

It was one thing to hear it said. But it was hard to conceive that he was doing as bad as you were, yet seeing him standing there, with those dark circles under his eyes, his jaw clenching, you realize that Jungkook has been suffering too.

And it hurts. It hurts like someone put an iron stake in fire before planting it in your chest. It burns and splits you apart, and you turn around, eyes falling to the cucumber plate. The world returns to its regular speed around you, the sounds crashing back into you, and you take a deep breath that chokes on the way down.

Jennie wraps her arm around you, dropping her head on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you say before she speaks, sounding almost defensive. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” she replies encouragingly. “You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and if there’s anyone that can do this, it’s you.”

You lean your head on hers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

You feel him behind you, your senses going in overdrive. Goosebumps prick at your skin, and you’re thankful you’re still wearing your coat to hide the evidence of how aware you are of him.

“Hey, Jennie,” Jungkook says behind you. “Y/n.”

You weren’t ready to hear him say your name. Hell, you could have had a thousand years to get ready to hear him say your name again and it wouldn’t have been enough. Indeed, it clutches at your heart so tight you think it might burst.

You turn around, taking a deep breath. Jungkook’s looking at Jennie, and you hate that it makes you sad. But it allows you to take a look at his face, to truly take in how much he’s changed, and you hate to see the heaviness on his features.

He looks like he’s at a funeral. Not getting ready for a rock concert. Though their newer music wasn’t as much rock as it is… a mix of funk, pop and rock music. 

“Hey JK,” Jennie greets him back, and then she looks at you.

Which only leads him to look at you too, and air wooshes out of your lungs like he just punched your gut.

“Hey,” you let out, voice weak and small and so not strong like you wanted to be tonight.

He tries his luck at a smile again. It works more than it did earlier, though it doesn’t come near his eyes. His eyes remain sad, forlorn, and fuck it makes you want to hold onto him. It’s a visceral need, one you ignore by looking away, glancing at Jimin and Seokjin behind him, looking at you.

Gauging the situation, seeing if they’ll need to intervene. At least you think that they’re looking at you like they are for that reason.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asks, much like Taehyung did outside this room.

He’s asking you. Not Jennie, and Jennie taps your arm before walking away, giving you space. She doesn’t stray too far, like she too wants to make sure she’s close enough to intervene if needed. It makes you feel like she’s your chaperone, and you’d laugh at the thought if it wasn’t so fucking hard to stand in front of Jeon Jungkook.

“Honestly?” You wet your lips, glancing down at your hands as you fumble with the strap of your purse. “It’s been hard. But not as much as it could have been without the people around me.”

Jungkook smiles, and it once again does not quite reach his eyes. “That’s good to hear.”

You gulp, flashing a hint of a smile before returning the question to him. “What about you?”

He remains silent. His eyes gloss over like he gets lost in thoughts, and he stares at a spot behind you. You’re tempted to look behind to see if there’s something there, but you haven’t seen him in so long and he’s just, right, there, in front of you, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“I’ve had better days,” he eventually replies, and he pulls on his piercings.

It attracts your gaze to his lips, and you notice that they’re chapped, like he’s forgotten what chapstick is.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “It is what it is.” He sighs, hands digging in the pockets of his pants. “It’s great to see you.”

“Likewise,” you echo.

It’s awkward. You both just stand there in silence for a little while, a world of unsaid words sitting between the two of you. But you don’t know where to start, don’t know what to say to bridge the gap between then and now. Jungkook doesn’t seem to fare any better than you, yet he holds your gaze. Says words with his eyes that you know his mouth won’t form. Because you’re not there anymore.

Too much has changed between you and Jeon Jungkook to ever say those words aloud. But you feel them on your skin, in your heart, deep in your soul, too. You feel them in the gaping hole in your chest, echoing off the walls over and over again.

Unable to stay in this silence, you say, “I hope the concert goes well tonight.”

He freezes, blinking a few times, and you reckon he might be blinking away tears. “You saw what happened yesterday?”

You did. And it only made you want to come here tonight even more. Because he clearly needs closure too.

“Yeah,” you let out. “I’m sorry.”

Another shrug of his shoulders. “It happens. It’s a little embarrassing when it’s in front of so many people, but it is what it is.”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. “I’m glad I get to see you perform again.”

That same smile but not a smile reappears. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“I will.”

Silence. You haven’t run out of things to tell Jungkook since way before August. Hell, after you hooked up after that concert in July, conversation with Jungkook was always easy. Never like this. Never like you have to pull the words out of each other.

It’s unnatural where it used to be as easy as breathing.

“Do you plan on staying after the concert?” he asks.

You glance at Jennie, who’s with Taehyung now, but she looks your way the second she feels your eyes on her.

“I don’t know,” you tell Jungkook as your gaze returns to him. “Are you guys doing something after?”

Jungkook pushes his hair back, though a stubborn strand falls on his forehead again. “They are. Pretty sure Tae and Jennie will just go back to the hotel.”

“They?” you repeat.

He sighs. “Yeah.”

A crease appears between your eyebrows. “You’re not planning to join them?”

His gaze drops to the ground. It takes him a few seconds to reply, and you almost wish he hadn’t. “I can’t really afford to be around alcohol too much.”

Oh.

“Ah,” you let out, and you gulp. “I understand that.”

He nods, remaining silent this time around. And for a short moment, you feel like you’re back in the hospital room, telling him to leave. You wonder, did his heart stay in that room, too?

“I wanted to –” he starts at the same time as you say, “It’s good that you –”

He gives a pained smile as he stops talking, motioning to you to keep going.

“It’s good that you know to avoid alcohol,” you say. “It’s a depressant.”

He frowns, yet nods his head. “Yeah.”

You wish you hadn’t said anything.

“You were going to say?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for…”

“Jungkook, we need you to get ready,” a staff member says as she stands awkwardly to the side. 

Jungkook looks at her, and you gaze at his profile, at his nose you used to peck under the sheets in his bed. The memory flashes in your head, so real you think you could reach out and touch it. Grab it, and put it in your heart, too.

Maybe it’d fill the hole in your chest.

“Okay,” he lets out, and then he looks at you again. “I’ll talk to you later?”

His eyes are begging. Asking you to stay, to not leave again, though he was technically the one to leave in November. You give him a nod, and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your mouth for a second. He frowns imperceptibly, and you just stare at those doe eyes, wondering how it is that you went from whispering sweet nothings to each other to whatever this is.

But you know how. You know it all too well. It’s scarred in your side, and definitely in your mind too. Even though you don’t remember it exactly, you remember the how all too well.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s talk after the concert.”

His smile is truer then. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes still, but it lessens the gauntness of his features just enough for you to momentarily catch sight of the man he was before. 

“We will.”

And with that, he’s walking away. You watch him go, your heart reaching for him as he looks over his shoulder to look at you. For a moment, you think he might walk back to you, might say what he was about to say before the staff member interrupted, but he doesn’t. He grabs the clothes he’s handed by a stylist, and he disappears in the other room to get dressed. 

It takes a moment, and you’re all ushered to the actual backstage area before he comes out. You’re worried, looking back the way you came wondering if he realized he couldn’t do it. The members seem concerned too, but then Jungkook jogs to where you are, giving you a quick glance before he grabs his drumsticks from someone from production. 

And then you watch them file onto the stage, and the music starts. It’s different to experience it from here, yet you feel yourself swaying to the beat, and you let it wash over you, let it carry you through the songs that they play out there. Jennie is beside you the whole time, and then they’re running off stage to quickly change and grab some water. Jungkook looks at you as he drinks, and you give him a smile that seems to give him a boost of energy. Indeed, he goes back on stage with a bounce to his steps, and it does ease some of the ache in your chest to see it.

The stage is healing for him. He’s told you that in the past, but you witness it in person tonight. Especially after the concert, when you all return to the dressing room, and congratulations are thrown around. Jungkook is smiling then, and you think it’s genuine. Because there’s a familiar twinkle in his eyes, though it burns out when he meets your gaze, his features growing serious.

And though everyone is talking around you, hugging and smiling widely, Jungkook just looks at you, and you look at him, and it’s like you’re alone again.

If you were in that universe you imagined last Wednesday, you’d be throwing your arms around his neck right now. You’d be kissing him in front of everyone, happy and careless and lighter than a feather.

Instead, you’re filled with lead, staring at each other across a crowded room, strangers again.

You hate that you and Jungkook are turning into strangers. He must hate it too, because he walks over to you, and he nods towards the other room. You understand what he wants, and you follow him there to see that it’s indeed a bathroom, with showers on one side for the hockey players. 

“You performed well tonight,” you tell him as the door finishes to close behind you, muffling the sounds from the dressing room.

The light is dim here, the neons above turned off. There’s only some light next to the mirrors, and it casts half of Jungkook’s face in shadows.

“Thank you,” he lets out, and he leans against the sink, folding his arms on his chest.

There’s another one of those excruciating silences, and you’re the one to interrupt it this time.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry for how things went down,” you say.

The words pain him. He shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and then says, “You have nothing to be sorry about. None of it was your fault.”

You look down at the floor. “I know. But… I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

You wait for him to continue, but it takes him a moment to collect himself. 

“If I hadn’t lied…” he starts, and he lets out a bitter chuckle. “None of this would have happened.”

It’s true. But then again, you both didn’t know that those sasaengs were crazy enough to hurt you. 

“You wouldn’t have run out, you wouldn’t have gotten assaulted…”

You wince at hearing that last word in his mouth. To hear that truth said aloud by him. But mostly, to hear the bitterness and guilt coating his words. They’re dripping with it, and it makes the hole in your chest expand.

“We couldn’t know that that was going to happen,” you remind him. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves for it.”

It’s strange to say it when you’ve spent months telling yourself the opposite. But as your therapist said during your appointment yesterday, the blame is not on you or Jungkook, but on the people that attacked you.

“Say it as much as you want, Y/n, but it was my fault.”

His words fall like rocks on a thin layer of ice, shattering it. And then they plunge in icy water, sinking in your chest to lodge themselves between your ribs.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, taking a step towards him.

Your eyes are wet. He’s blurring behind the tears, and you blink them away. And you feel guilty, so so fucking guilty, because you know a part of you is putting the blame on him. It’s a disgusting part of you, one that searches for a reason for what happened to you. It’s one thing to tell yourself that only the attackers were to blame, but it’s another to believe it.

Though you reckon you don’t actually think Jungkook is to blame for it. He’s to blame for the lie that got you to run, but he asked you to stay.

How many times did he ask you to stay before you ran outside?

“We both know that’s a lie,” Jungkook says, and he sighs deeply, pushing his hair back before folding his arms on his chest again. 

“Jungkook, it wasn’t your fault,” you repeat with more conviction. “It’s important that you tell yourself that.”

He just looks at you as you step closer to him until you’re right in front of him, so close you can see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his lip.

“You didn’t stab me. You didn’t plan for those people to attack me. You couldn’t know it was going to happen.”

You don’t know who you’re trying to convince here. And as you keep talking, you realize you’re trying to convince yourself.

You’re tired of that ugly part of yourself trying to hold him responsible for things he didn’t do.

“Yes, you lied. Yes, that was shitty. But you didn’t tell me to leave that night. You told me to stay. I’m the one that didn’t listen and ran out and…” You frown, because you’re once again faced with the void in your memories. “And then those crazy people were there. But you saved my life. I’m still here because of you.”

A tear rolls on his cheek, and you don’t resist the instinct to dry it for him. Your thumb lingers on his skin for a second, and then your hand falls at your side again.

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”

He looks at you, his eyes shining silver. And then you’re cupping his cheek, and he’s leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I just can’t get the image of you lying there out of my mind,” he admits in a whisper. “It’s engraved so deep in my brain.” He gulps, and you see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I dream about it every single night.”

“I have meds for the nightmares,” you tell him. “Maybe you could look into those?”

He straightens, and your hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a heartbeat before you drop it.

“I tried therapy, and it didn’t help.”

You frown. “Of course it didn’t. It’s only been a few months.”

Jungkook remains silent this time, just looking down at you with that same gutwrenching sorrow in his eyes.

“You have to do it for longer,” you tell him. “I’ve been seeing the therapist every couple of days ever since I was out of the hospital. And I still have a long way to go.”

Still, he just stares at you.

“Please try, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Don’t give up on yourself.”

He chuckles, and it’s a choked sound that seems more painful than anything. “What’s the point, though? I still lost you in the end.”

You don’t know what else there is to break in you, but it does break at hearing his words. “But you don’t have to lose yourself.”

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that week in November,” he reveals, and tears roll down your cheeks, coming too suddenly for you to try to stop them. “I loved you.”

You don’t miss his use of the past tense, and you think it’s better that way. It’s better if the feelings died with the pain of the last few months. Because you wouldn’t be able to be with him.

You don’t think you’d be able to heal by his side. Because he’s a reminder of what happened, whether you like it or not.

The universe made it impossible for you and Jeon Jungook to be together in the end.

“And I would have said yes,” you reply, your voice wavering with the tears. “I would have told you I loved you back, but that didn’t happen. And it’s unfortunate, and really fucking sad, but we both need to move on.” You wipe your cheeks, closing your eyes to try and find strength for your next words. “We owe it to each other.”

He’s crying too. You’re both two broken fucking messes, but you’re allowed your closure. No matter how much it hurts.

“But what if I don’t want to move on?” he asks. “I’m still in that fucking hospital room with you, Y/n. I was so scared you were never going to wake up.”

“But I did.” You meet his gaze, standing strong in the face of the grief breaking his eyes. “I did and I’m here today, and I want us both to be able to move on and heal.”

“You came here to tell me this?” he lets out, like he can’t believe it. “I thought…” He pauses, shuts his eyes tight. “Jimin said…” Another pause. “I wanted to believe you wanted to reconnect.”

“Jungkook, I can’t…”

“I miss you so much. So fucking much, every day. It doesn’t make sense without you.”

“Jungkook.”

“No!” he practically yells. “You don’t get to say my name like this. Why did you even come here if it was to tell me this?”

You don’t know where that anger is coming from, but anger is a lot easier to face than grief.

“Because we deserved closure.”

He laughs, and it’s so pained, so sad, and you need to leave. 

You’re about to break irreparably, and you don’t want him to witness it.

“You don’t think I got closure when you asked me to leave after I was at your bedside for a week and a half?”

“You texted me for weeks after that,” you remind him. 

He turns around, gripping the side of the sink. “So you saw those texts, but never got around to reply?”

You sob. It wracks through you even though you try to stop it, and Jungkook curses loudly.

“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit, and it’s true.

Just like with Mingyu, you didn’t know what to say. So you chose the coward way out, and stayed silent instead.

“That’s fucking bullshit.” He turns the faucet on, and then bends down to splash water in his face. You don’t know why he does it, but when it’s done and the tap is off, he straightens, meeting your gaze in the mirror with water dripping down his face, mixing with his tears. “I nearly killed myself during those weeks. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, couldn’t spend more than a minute awake without being drunk because all I could see was you in that fucking alley. And I was hoping you’d come back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply to me.”

“I was healing from getting beaten up and stabbed,” you throw back. “I did not have energy for anything else, Jungkook.”

The fight leaves him, and his head hangs low, his hair hiding his features from you. He takes a deep breath that breaks on a choked sob, and you just watch him cry while you cry too, and you wonder if that’s the last thing you’ll do together.

Cry.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers when he’s calmed down. “I’m sorry I got mad.”

You reach out, almost touching his back, but you stop yourself before your fingers find the fabric of his shirt. “It’s okay. It really is okay.”

And it is. Because it’s better if all the feelings are out instead of festering in his chest or yours, isn’t it?

“How can it be okay?” he asks.

“We promise each other we’ll move on,” you whisper. “We move on and we heal.”

He’s crying again, and he turns back around to look at you. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Try therapy for real,” you tell him. “It will help.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” you insist. “I promise.”

There’s a silence of you holding each other’s gaze, and you take his features in. Commit them to memory, locking them in your heart next to that hole. Though, as you put them there, you realize that hole was always shaped like him. 

Will always be shaped like him, too.

“So, this is it?” he asks.

You nod, finding yourself unable to speak. Jungkook curses, and then he pulls you to him, wrapping you in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as you cry again. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and he holds you tight. For a second, you think the pieces of you are glueing back together, and you hold onto him, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. You let his scent wrap around you, let him hold you.

Your heart beats in sync with his, breaking along with his. Jungkook is the first to break the silence.

“I’ll miss you.”

The tears come faster, and you hold him tighter, too. “I’ll miss you too.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll read all of your books,” he promises, his voice heavy with emotion.

“And I’ll listen to all of your songs,” you promise back.

“I’ll never forget you.”

You know he won’t. And you won’t either. In another life, Jeon Jungkook was your soulmate.

“Me neither. But I promise I will heal, and I really want you to heal, too.”

He doesn’t say anything for a time, just holding you close. And then he whispers, “I promise I will try.”

You really hope he does.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

i am fucking sobbing again and again. this story really is the saddest i've ever written, i'm so sorry. let me know what you think of this chapter! and feel free to scream at me

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re swimming in bliss. You hear voices sometimes – you recognize them, but they speak a language you know you should understand, yet you can’t grasp the meaning of their words. You recognize names – Jungkook, Jennie, Mingyu. 

They’re telling Jungkook that he needs to sleep.

But then you’re gone again, and you don’t recognize the voice that speaks up next. She’s telling you that they’re changing you, whatever that means.

You see your parents while you sleep. You dream of home, you dream of the night club where it all started. Sometimes you’re here, sometimes you’re not. 

You hear your mother and Jungkook speak at some point, and then there’s just darkness.

It’s like sleeping while awake, unable to move. Someone’s brushing your hair at some point, and you almost manage to move a finger. But then you’re gone again, and you dream of lips on your skin and a tattooed arm wrapped around your waist while you sleep.

And then, as if no time has passed, you open your eyes.

Saturday, November 22nd

Jungkook hasn’t moved from this chair next to you in almost a week and a half. He’s only gotten up to go to the bathroom when he couldn’t wait anymore, and then come back to keep his watch over you. They’ve tried to get him to go home and rest, but he much prefers to sleep here next to you in case you wake up.

He can’t miss when you wake up.

If you wake up.

The nurses have been kind to him. Bringing him food and giving him a new blanket every night. One of them even tried to get an empty stretcher in here for him, but he only had it for one night before they needed it again. Your mother also has been kind ever since she got here the day after your assault, and she’s currently gone back to her hotel for the night, as she has been struggling with jetlag.

Jungkook feels horrible. That you’re in this position, on the other side of the world from your family. And only your mother could show up, though she informed him earlier today that the rest of the family should be coming in the next two days.

He didn’t think he’d meet your family so soon. Definitely not like this, with you in a state between life and death that’s been the longest wait of his life. But he didn’t end his vigil once, except for his bathroom breaks, eating and sleeping in here every single day.

Though, he doesn’t think he has really fully slept in a while now. Every time he starts falling asleep, he dreams of you, bleeding out on the ground of the dark alley, though no matter how much he runs, he never seems to get to you. He’s forced to watch you bleed out and die, and he always wakes up in cold sweat.

He’s cried in your mother’s arms. She’s a saint, and he understands where you take it from now. She’s cried in his arms too, and he’s glad your family will be arriving soon so that she doesn’t have to do this alone anymore.

It’s his fault. It’s his fault, and he’ll have to carry the weight of it for the rest of his life. But he just needs to make sure you’ll wake up, needs to make sure you’ll survive. The doctors say there is no danger to your life anymore, and that you should be waking up in the next few days. You probably would have woken up before if it was just for the blood loss, but you have some broken cartilage in your ribs too, and a minor concussion that “is the least of our concern” according to the doctors.

To think he almost ran out right after you. He should have, and will forever hate himself for stopping himself. He just thought you might need space, and so he wanted to wait until the next day before going to see you. But then he saw your phone on the couch, and he got scared. So, so fucking scared, and he knew he had to follow you.

The doctors have told him he saved your life by finding you when he did. But he’ll never be able to forget the way he saw the lights go out in your eyes when you passed out. 

No matter how much he’s washed his hands since then, he still sees your blood on his skin, like he’ll forever be scarred by it. It’ll forever stain him, no matter how many times he rubs soap into his skin.

The boys are having a concert tonight. The ones last weekend were canceled, the company wanting to give him time to collect himself, but he ended up deciding to sit out for the next concerts, and the company refused to just postpone the tour. So they’re going to be playing with a drum track instead of him, which hopefully will not ruin the whole experience for the fans.

But Jungkook can’t bring himself to care about the fans right now. It’s been made very clear that he has history with you, the company releasing a statement that explained everything when Jungkook said he’d leave if they lied. It isn’t explicitly written that you’re his girlfriend, and Jungkook only has himself to blame for that.

He never got around to ask you. Stupidly thought he could bring you to some botanical gardens on Wednesday to explain everything to you and ask you, because he thought just a single bouquet was not enough.

Maybe it would have been. He’ll never know now.

It’s late. The sun has set a long time ago, and Jungkook starts his usual bedtime routine. The one he established when the nurses understood he wouldn’t leave, and they showed him how to move you a little so you won’t get wounds from being bedridden. 

Jungkook’s hands gently wrap around your wrist, and he starts moving your arm. Your skin is warm under his touch, but it lacks its usual colour, like you’ve been drained of your life. 

Which you were. You were so close to dying that night.

Tears sprout from his eyes, like they always fucking do every time he breathes and takes a look at you. One of the nurses mentioned that he needs to talk to a doctor, but he hasn’t bothered replying.

It can wait until you wake up. Until then, he’ll pursue his quiet vigil next to you.

Jungkook moves to your legs, massaging your calves a little to get the blood moving. And then he grabs the brush on the table next to the bed, bringing it toward your head.

You’re looking at him.

He almost screams, the brush falling out of his hand and clattering on the floor. And then he’s clicking on the button the nurse showed him to call for them, and he grabs your hand. Your fingers twitch, and he really is crying then, tears streaming freely on his cheeks.

He says your name, and you blink once, a tiny drop of water rolling out of your eye. He reaches forward, dries it for you, and his fingers linger on your cheek as he realizes the wait is over.

You’re awake. You’re finally awake.

He wants to tell you he’s sorry and that he loves you and that he regrets even letting Sara talk him into going to see her. But you just stare at him, more tears coming, and he can’t speak around the lump in his throat. 

A nurse comes in – she’s the one that got him the stretcher that one time. She tells Jungkook to sit as more people come into the room, busying themselves with checking your vitals and seeing how reactive you actually are to stimuli. Jungkook texts your mother to let her know you’re awake, and he just watches attentively, his sleep-deprived brain unable to keep up with the flurry of activity now surrounding you.

A male nurse hands him the hairbrush he dropped, and Jungkook holds it in his lap, fingers flexing and unflexing on the handle. It takes a while, but then a doctor appears in his line of sight, and he meets her gaze.

“Everything seems to be healing well,” she tells him. “She’s breathing on her own, so we removed the tubes, but she might have trouble with talking for a few days. She still needs some rest even though she woke up.”

“Understood,” he says. “Thank you.”

She smiles, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No. Thank you. She’s here because of you.”

He knows she’s meaning to be comforting, but if only she knew how much she’s right about it. Because it’s all his fault that you’re in this situation.

Your mother gets to the hospital some time later, her eyes still riddled with exhaustion. But you cry at the sight of her, and she tells you a story she’s told you every day since she got here. It’s a tale she said she used to tell you when you were falling asleep as a kid, and you visibly relax as she holds your hand through it all. Jungkook sits on the other side of you, listening to your mother’s soothing voice, and he feels his eyelids growing heavy. He tries to fight it, but he hasn’t truly slept in so long, and there’s nothing to keep him up now that you’re awake…

He falls asleep before your mother finishes the story.

*****

The alley is dark, endless. Jungkook stumbles down the length of it, and he’s slow like he’s stuck in some molasses. Every step closer to you costs him so much, and he watches the blood blooming like a red rose around you as he tries to get to you. But he’s too slow, too fucking slow and you’re dying. But then you’re sitting up, looking at him.

“This is all your fault,” you tell him.

Sunday, November 23rd 

Jungkook jerks awake next to your bed, and you turn your head to look at him. You’ve been awake for a while now, the morning light spilling into your room from the half-drawn curtain at the window. Your mother told you she’d stay until you fell asleep last night, or maybe it was early morning already. You wanted to say you didn’t feel like sleeping anymore, but everything hurt and you grew sleepy as she sat next to you, stroking your hair, a long time after Jungkook fell asleep.

Your memory is… fogged. You have trouble remembering what happened. There’s a hole after you left his house, a vast expanse of darkness that leads to last night. You don’t even know how long you’ve been sleeping, and you just know from what your mother said that you got assaulted.

Maybe it’s a blessing that you don’t remember exactly what happened. Or maybe it’s just a coping mechanism of your brain, but no matter what it is, you’re relieved you haven’t had to relive the experience in your head now that you’re conscious.

But what you do remember is the fight. It’s the bottomless need to leave that you felt when you found out that Jungkook lied about seeing his ex. And as you look at him, at the way he seems like he’s out of breath, waking up from a nightmare, all you can do is start crying.

He says your name, comes closer, sitting on the edge of your bed. He makes to dry your cheeks, but you turn your head the other way, not wanting him to touch you.

He stayed with you while you were asleep. Your mother said so last night, but you wish he hadn’t.

“Y/n,” he says again.

You gather your strength, speaking the only word that comes to your mind upon hearing his voice. 

“Leave.”

Your voice croaks out in a poor excuse of talking, but it’s clear enough for him to have understood. Yet he doesn’t move, stays next to you in silence as you feel his gaze on your profile.

So you look at him again, watch the way tears are falling in an infinite sequence along his cheeks. They collect at his chin before falling in his lap and you wish he understood that it’s not personal.

You don’t want him to see you like this. Not when the last time you saw each other – that you were conscious of – was when you fought.

When he lied.

You’re saved by your mother coming into the room, and she takes in the sight of Jungkook sitting on your bed. She gives him a gentle smile and a nod that you assume she’s meaning to be a bow, and then she hands him a cup of coffee.

It’s a strange sight to see, especially as she reaches for tissues and hands those to him too. He takes them, wipes his cheeks, and then he gets up to return to his chair. You want to tell him to leave again, but you don’t find the strength to, not when your mother sits in the spot he was in earlier and says, “Dad and the boys are going to be here in a few hours.”

You’re crying again. In truth, you don’t think you’ve stopped crying ever since Jungkook woke up. But you cry because your family will be here soon, and it feels safe. 

You haven’t been reunited in so long, and though the conditions may be dire, you know it will be like a balm on your heart to see everyone at the same time.

Hopefully, Jungkook will understand that he has nothing to do with your family being here, and go. Because you really doubt you’ll have the capacity to ask him to leave again.

*****

Jungkook sits in that same chair he’s been sitting in for days now, your mother next to him. You fell asleep not long after breakfast – applesauce from the looks of it, though you only managed to take a few bites. And he’s been silent the whole time, while you carefully talked to your mother in hushed tones. You didn’t speak a lot, if he’s honest. It was mostly your mother, and you replied with short words he couldn’t really hear from his spot.

He only has a single word burnt in his mind though.

Leave.

He’s been hearing it on repeat since you said it earlier, and it aches so deep he feels it in his bones. He feels it in his soul, and he’s so fucking heavy, so fucking exhausted.

He doesn’t know why he believed you’d be happy to see him by your side when you woke up. He was so focused on making sure you did that he didn’t realize it’d upset you. And now he’s just sitting in his stupid chair, his heart bleeding out, trying to find the courage to get up and leave. But he wants to talk to you, to apologize, yet he thinks the words might stay forever lodged in his throat.

“Are you okay?” your mother asks next to him.

He blinks, gazing at her. All he can do is give her a nod, and he resumes his attention on you, on your serene features as you sleep.

“You know, she talked to me about you.”

Your mother’s words are so sharp they cut through him, nearly beheading him.

“She did?”

She chuckles lightly, though it’s sorrowful on the edges, induced by this tiring week and a half of waiting for you to wake up. “Oh, she did,” she says. “I don’t even think she realized she did it. But it’s always about the boy in Seoul.”

He clenches his fists as pain flows through him. “She asked me to leave,” he whispers, the revelation so heavy and loud he thinks the windows might shatter.

But they don’t, and the world outside remains blissfully unaware of his breaking.

“What happened between the two of you?” your mother asks carefully.

We fell in love, he thinks. We fell in love and I fucked everything up.

But admitting his guilt to your mother feels like too much of a failure. He doubts she’d let him stay if she knew.

“We got in an argument that night,” he admits, his throat drying out as a lump grows at the top of it. “Before she…”

He can’t say the rest. Not when his hands are still fucking covered with your blood.

“I hope you don’t feel responsible,” your mother says.

He breaks. Again and again, he breaks. He’s so shattered by now he doubts he’ll ever be able to collect all of his pieces one day.

He really died with you that night, and the pieces are scattered through the alley where you almost passed away.

“It’s hard not to,” he chokes out, and your mother puts her hand on his arm, trying to be reassuring.

“Jungkook,” she says sternly. “It’s not your fault.”

He’s sobbing, because she doesn’t understand. Can’t understand he’s the one that drove you out of his house. Shouldn’t understand because she’d hate him, too. He doesn’t want her to hate him too.

“She asked me to leave,” he repeats in between sobs, and your mother pulls him to her, wrapping her arms around him. 

She rubs a soothing hand on his back as he cries, and he’s embarrassed. So damn embarrassed that he’s crying in her arms again, but everything just

hurts

so

bad.

He doesn’t know how long he cries. Just knows he’s fully empty by the time the tears recede, like he’s cried all the water in his body. The wave of exhaustion that hits him then is so potent he almost passes out on the spot, his mind spinning, but he clenches his fists, clenches his jaw, and the spinning recedes, too.

“She will need time,” your mother says after a long moment of silence.

Not expecting her to talk, Jungkook startles, and then the meaning of her words catches up to him. He glances at her, finding her already looking at him with a gentle smile on her lips that reminds him so much of yours.

“You think I should go?” he asks.

Unsurprisingly, tears manage to gather in his gaze again, though they don’t fall this time.

“I think you need rest,” she replies. “And you need to eat a good meal and spend some time away from this hospital room.” She’s asking him to leave, too? “And I’m not saying that for her. I’m saying it for you.” Her smile is sad, infinitely so. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”

But how is he supposed to do that when he almost lost you?

He nods, and he looks around the room. Takes it all in, like it’s going to disappear the second he leaves. And he thinks it might – he doubts you’ll want to see him again.

It’s the end. Or rather, it ended already, and he’s just been delaying the inevitable. 

But no one can stop the inevitable from coming. It came and passed, and now he has to leave. 

He doesn’t know how he does it. He barely remembers getting home. He makes it three steps inside before he breaks down.

He hasn’t been here since you left. 

You’re gone.

Monday, December 1st

The doctors give you the go to get out of the hospital on the first day of December, when an early flurry of snow is falling upon Seoul. You’ll have to come back in a week to make sure that your ribs are healing well, and to most likely take out the sutures on the wounds in your side, which have apparently been healing remarkably well.

You’re not surprised. Jungkook paid to get you the top of the country care, and you refused to ask how much it cost. Refused to acknowledge that Jungkook did that for you, even though you know he can afford it.

You’ve also refused to acknowledge that he stayed by your side the whole time while you were in a coma. Your mother tried to talk to you about it the day after he left, but you told her you just wanted to spend time with your family, and then you brushed her off every time she mentioned him.

You don’t want to think about him. Don’t want to face the gaping hole in your chest whenever the thought of him crosses your mind. You just want to focus on healing, and not look back. 

The nightmares started on the third day after you woke up. They got so bad after the fifth that the doctors prescribed you strong sleeping meds, and you’ve been sleeping a dreamless sleep every night since then, slowly recuperating.

Slowly healing, except that gaping hole in your chest you doubt will ever heal. You’ve been signed up for therapy without your consent, though you were told you can stop whenever you want to. So far, you’ve only had one appointment from your hospital room with the psychiatrist, and they were the one to suggest that you will need sleeping meds.

You also have calming meds, but they’ve been making you so dizzy you’ve tried to avoid taking them, begging the nurses to not force you to take them. You think they believe you’re crazy. Hell, you think you might be. Because you should be traumatized, shouldn’t you?

But you don’t remember anything. You don’t remember the assault at all – there’s just a blank space in your mind whenever you try to think about it. The nightmares also didn’t leave a lasting memory for you to think about at all. They disappeared from your mind like dust in the wind, but the terror they held lasted for hours after you woke up. But with the meds…

With the meds, it’s like nothing ever happened at all. Except your body is still hurting, the bruises still fading away. And you’ll have scars on your right side, though the doctors said Jungkook already paid for you to get surgery to remove them, if you so wish.

You don’t think you will. They’ll be the last testament that you went through hell and came back. At least that’s how you’ve been feeling about it lately.

Your mother told you a few days ago that one of the people involved in your assault came forward after all the pressure in the media, and gave the police the names of the other assailants. They’re in prison, waiting for trial, but you don’t think you’ll go.

You don’t want to risk going and being hit with the memories. 

You don’t want to risk going and seeing Jungkook, either. You don’t even know if he’ll go. but Jennie told you about his hiatus, showing you what the company wrote about you and him, and you think he might.

He’s out for justice. At least that’s what Jennie said, and you won’t tell him to stop. No, you do think you deserve justice, you just don’t have the strength to do it yourself.

“I love your apartment,” your mother says, taking it all in with a spin in the living room.

Your brothers and your father had to go home already, all of them having to return to their jobs now that they know you’re safe, but your mother is retired and decided to stay a little longer, to make sure you’re not alone for the first few days back home in case something happens.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve been craving some alone time. She’s been so helpful over the few weeks she’s been here, taking care of communication with Stella while you couldn’t bring yourself to face your phone.

You still haven’t. You know you were trending in the days after it happened, and also when you woke up. Jungkook’s fanbase has raised money in your name to give to organisations that help women victims of various crimes. It’s touching that they would do that for you, but you need to be away from this all for a time.

You want peace and quiet, but not enough so that you’ll be forced to look down at the gaping hole in your chest to see what’s at the bottom.

“Thank you,” you tell your mother as you walk in behind her, sitting on the couch.

You feel restless. Have felt restless these last two days as you were waiting to be dismissed from the hospital, but you still feel tired from the ride home. It’s a weird combination that makes you feel crazy, which you think might be one of the manifestations of your trauma.

But you’re not going to psychoanalyze yourself. You don’t want to spend a second in your head at all, if you can avoid it.

And you can. You can, because your mother is here, and Jennie will come later too, and then it’ll be Hyunseok’s turn tomorrow. Mingyu sent you a long, heartfelt message after he visited you in the hospital the day before his enlistment, but you haven’t been able to read it yet.

Like everything when it comes to your phone, you just can’t touch it.