#failaise

Two days of class lectures, out the window.

All because you couldn’t face your problems like a regular, normal human being.

Biting on the nail of your thumb, you stepped climbed up the cobblestone steps. It was still cold outside, colder than you could’ve handled in just a hoodie, but you persevered, reminding yourself just a couple more hours before you’d have to face the music. Swallowing, you squared your jaw and gazed up at the old trees, admiring their shape and following the path they made.

With a sigh, you plopped down on a nearby bench, legs pulled close into your body. It was morning here on this viewing hill, proudly named Haknam Hill, and was empty- for the most part. Before you, the sprawling city of Seoul was at perfect view, the lights beginning to dim as the sun rose behind the trees. At least here, you thought, no one could touch you. Here, you didn’t have to pretend that you didn’t have feelings. You could just… be.

Suddenly, the alarming idea that Somi might’ve called your family, told them you ran away, that you were missing class appeared. This was the last day, you reminded yourself curtly. You deserved one more day to not be okay, before you came home and dealt with the remnants of Jungkook’s shattered memories. Somi didn’t deserve this though. You remembered her confused, worried face when you gathered a backpack of clothes and stormed out the door that day.

Pursing your lips, you hastily whipped your phone out of your back pocket. With cold, shaky fingers you typed a message, then curled into yourself.

 Two days.

You’d been gone for two days, and Jungkook was so worried he could barely focus. The lecture hall was full today, meaning nearly no one was absent- except you, of course. Where you usually sat with your notebooks and eager-to-learn gaze, was empty. He swallowed and forced his gaze away from your seat, down to the notebook where he’d been scribbling the outlines of a face and eyes. He stared down at the cartoonish image of you and frowned, suddenly slamming his book shut. Unable to handle the thoughts of you somewhere, cold and sad and all because of him, Jungkook jumped to his feet, messily shoving his things into the messenger bag at his side. The professor’s lecture skipped in surprise and he looked over to him, curiously watching Jeon Jungkook storm out of the hall.

His eyes burned the further away he got. Some time ago, the sun had risen, but he still felt cold, hugging his arms into his body. His jog turned into a sprint, bag jumbling at his side, feet hitting the pavement at alarming rates. It was only a matter of minutes before he showed up at your door, knocking loudly and obnoxiously until it finally opened.

Somi appeared, looking tired and strung out in pajama pants and wrinkled jeans.

“Have you heard from her yet?” Jungkook demanded, staring down at your roommate in concern.

Somi pursed her lips and stepped aside from the door. Jungkook thanked her and entered, kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag.

“So have you?” Jungkook insisted. He was glad for the heat that your dorm offered, but the idea that it was still cold, and he still had no idea where you were, was beginning to eat away at him.

Somi nodded with her arms folded over her chest. “She texted me around five this morning,” she announced, holding herself close. “‘I’m fine, I’ll be home soon’.”

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the floor. On one hand, he was ecstatic that you finally had spoken. On the other, it hurt more than he could imagine to know that you were blatantly ignoring him. Hell, when you came back, he couldn’t even be sure that you’d want him- that you’d even speak to him. Your last attempt to cut him off only opened his eyes to who you were, what you could possibly want from him.

And if you didn’t want that…  

“So she’s okay?” Jungkook swallowed and looked over at Somi with hope.

Somi pursed her lips and sighed, stumbling backwards onto the couch as she’d done every night since you left. “I hope so.”

Jungkook plopped down next to her, staring blankly at the television screen. Beside him, Somi shifted, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Jungkook looked over at her. “What’s wrong?”

Somi closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands, running her fingers through her hair. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and let out one long, heavy sigh. “Jungkook,” she began, “you’re a great guy. I know that… I- I’m sure of it. But _______… she handles her… emotions in different ways.”

Jungkook blinked, confused and worried. “‘Different ways’?” He repeated, eyebrows pinned down.

Somi would barely look at him. Her voice had grown soft, broken, as if she were the one who’d run away. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight, holding herself in her own arms, shaking ever so slightly. “I’ve known ______ since we were freshmen,” Somi said, her words tiny. “When she was little, she liked to get in, uh, fights. She told me so. When she got older, it just… became the way she dealt with emotions. Do you remember last exam week?”

Jungkook’s gaze had grown in intensity, staring down Somi to understand what she was saying to him. “Yes..” He remembered that week very clearly, mostly because you’d shut him out then, too. You came to school with a bruise on your jaw and more underneath, but you said it was because you’d been mugged the night before. He wondered why that week- why you wouldn’t file a police report or come with him to the station.

“She deals with stress by picking fights,” Somi dropped her head into her hands again. “I just… I don’t want you to be surprised when she comes home with bruises, or something.”

Jungkook looked away finally, his eyes dropping to the floor. If he understood Somi correctly, you liked getting in fights. And he could picture you, fists hitting your face and your own flying right back- you with swollen, discolored eyes.

You, getting hurt, because of him.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jungkook mumbled to himself. Somi looked up at him suddenly. Jungkook projected himself onto his feet and stumbled towards the bathroom down the hall, holding a hand over his mouth. All he could see now were those eyes, those beautiful, sparkling eyes. The ones that crinkled when you grinned, the ones that twinkled when you laughed, that held a certain amount of intimacy when they were staring at you- now, hidden behind swollen skin and colored with purple, blues, and-

Jungkook emptied himself into the toilet, dropped to his knees. Somi ran him from behind, rubbing a hand along the contours of his back. And although he’d finished vomiting, there were tears now prickling his eyes.

“Come on,” Somi heaved him to his feet on her back, flushing the toilet with the slightest hint of disgust. Jungkook stopped to wash his mouth in the sink, eyes squeezed shut. Somi pulled him into your bedroom and pushed him onto the sheets. Jungkook nestled into your blanket and pillows immediately, suddenly enveloped by the clean, vanilla fragrant your clothing held. “You should try to get some sleep, Jungkook.”

Huh. He hadn’t even thought of that. For the first time in his life, something had been so utterly important that even sleep couldn’t have been accounted for. But now he was here, wrapped in your scent and the unbearable comfort of your old comforter. Suddenly, sleep was everything, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy, staring at the image of your photo hanging on the wall.

Slumber grasped him, burning the sight of your smile into his dreams.

   When he woke, his bones felt heavy and tired. Gold light was streaming through the window of your bedroom, suddenly jerking him back to when he would lay here with you, inhaling your scent of vanilla, holding the warmth expanse of your body against his. Except now he was alone- utterly and devastatingly alone in this room of yours. Swallowing, Jungkook pulled himself up until he was sitting, staring across the floor to the window. Some part of him thought you would climb up a ladder and come in through the glass, smiling and apologizing for leaving him.

In the corner there were your pictures. Framed images of you and your friends laughing at the beach, some of you camping with your family, your graduation pictures. Each of them you wore the same grin, eyes lit up with happiness. Often, he would see those same eyes looking up at him, sparkling at him from across the lecture hall- those eyes held more secrets than he knew. The idea that you were someone he didn’t truly know, someone he’d fallen for quite some time ago, yet there were still so many parts of you that he didn’t know about.

With another glance around the room, Jungkook felt like his throat was closing in. His eyes stung at the images of your smiling face surrounding him, and although you were the person he knew, at the same time you weren’t. You were both the person he knew and cared for, and also someone he didn’t know.

Hurrying for the bathroom, Jungkook washed the foul aftertaste of his earlier action out, then made for the front door. Asleep on the couch, Somi barely noted his leaving, or the sound of him zipping up his jacket. He shoved his feet into his shoes and laced them up, grabbed his phone off where Somi laid, then rushed out the front door.

The air outside was cold and bitter, the unforgiving oncoming of winter undeniably around the corner. His cheeks burned from the breeze, nose and cheeks becoming the same shade of pink as the cherry blossoms had been before the cold had come. Wrapping his arms around his torso, Jungkook marched for the nearest place he could think of- somewhere he could clear his head, remove images of you from his thoughts. It was pointless to, though, as he knew he could never truly rid himself of you.

Not if he tried.

The sun was beginning to set, you realized upon awakening from what happened to be the most uncomfortable nap of your life. Pushing yourself up into a seated position, you exhaled a long breath, releasing rivulets of white air up into the sky. Though it was cloudy and cold, the sun managed to paint its daily picture across the expanse of Seoul. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing your cheeks tiredly. Staring out across the railing at the top of the hill, you admired the vibrant, yet somehow dulled colors that spread out across the rainy sky. The sight was enough to twitch your lips into a smile.

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the sun finally appearing after a week of rain and cold and clouds was a sign that you needed to get back home. The warmth of the rays that landed on your face had to be.

As you pulled your hood up over your head and made to stand, the sound of boots crunching leaves stopped you. They were timid and soft, moving behind you, then around you. You watched, eyes wide as the image of a boy wearing a long, dark jacket came into view. He barely noted your presence, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he leaned up against the railing. Head tilted back, his eyes fluttered shut, and Jungkook let out a long white breath.

The sight of him flipped your stomach, caused your heart to thump erratically in your chest. You felt sick just at the sight, like you might throw up at any second. Swallowing, you tore your eyes away from him, forcing yourself to retrieve your backpack and silently move to leave. Behind you, Jungkook shifted, somehow turning to look.

It felt like eyes burning into his back, except this gaze was different. This gaze made his cheeks burn and eyes glaze over with worry and happiness- an odd combination, but with you, it made sense. Raising his brow with hope, Jungkook turned on his heel, in time to see the profile of your face disappear beneath the hood. You swung your backpack onto your shoulders and squeezed your eyes shut, still trying to leave.

“________?”

His voice was different. You’d never heard it like this. Jungkook’s voice hardly shook; it was a constant resonating baritone that was confident and steady. Yet, as you stood there with your back to him, his voice trembled with fright, shook with uncertainty. It was enough to make you stop.

Jungkook’s boot crunched more leaves as he took a step towards you. His hand outreached, fingers shaking, to land on your shoulder and spin you around.

Suddenly, he was looking at the image of the girl he’d spent the last few days pining over. Though, if he was being honest, he’d pined after you for longer than a few days. Yet now, seemingly out of thin air, you were standing before him, one eye discolored around the edges, but nonetheless it was those eyes- the ones that had haunted him since you left, that ghostly gaze peering up at him through dark lashes and fear. Jungkook had nightmares about seeing you like this, bruised and scared- of him. Your hair was disheveled yet it looked as soft as it had felt running through his fingers, your face lit up from the cold, lips trembling ever so slightly. If he listened carefully, he could hear more than feel his heart beating in his chest, his throat closed tightly and eyes stinging with tears.

“I’m fine,” you immediately whispered, noting his lingering gaze on your bruised eye.

Somi had warned him about this. He had time to prepare for this. And now he you were, standing before him as he pictured you might look. No amount of time could prepare him for seeing you hurt.

“Who?” Jungkook’s hand moved to your cheek, his thumb skimming the area just below your eye.

You turned your head and grabbed his hand, holding it inches from your face. “Don’t,” you demanded. “Don’t pretend like…”

Jungkook blinked, chewing feverishly on his bottom lip. “Don’t pretend like what?” He repeated, hurt written across his face.

“Like you care,” you took a step back from him and let go of his hand. It didn’t fall back at his side, instead frozen in outreach for your touch.

His eyebrows screwed in confusion, “Like I care?” He said, searching your face for a fraction of truth. He blinked rapidly, gaze falling to the floor. Jungkook inhaled, then exhaled one long breath. “Somi told me what you thought- when you saw that picture.”

Him bringing it up stung. You closed your eyes and curled your lips, trying your best to keep your emotions in check. “What I thought?” You smiled bitterly at him. “Isn’t it true?”

“No,” Jungkook rushed to get his words out, reaching for your face again. This time you looked at him, eyes wide and open in shock. You let him hold your face with his warm fingers, a stark contrast to the cold you’d felt- partly due to loneliness, partly due to the oncoming winter. He stared down at you, looking just about concerned as you’d always wanted him to. “No, no, no. Never. We were never… I never…”

“I know you slept with her,” your gaze fell down to the ground. Admitting it out loud was worse than admitting it to yourself.

Jungkook shook his head. His stomach churned at the memories of being with someone that wasn’t you, but he couldn’t lie. Not to you.

“I…” Jungkook closed his eyes, then sighed. “I did.”

Your voice felt small, tight, like you couldn’t speak. It hurt to hear him say it. It hurt to hear the boy you… loved, being with someone else.

“But only because I thought you didn’t feel the same as me,” Jungkook rushed out, holding your face slightly tighter than before. He moved closer, this time so that he could look down at you, see the way you looked in the setting sun. Its glow caused you to appear as an angel, though without it you would’ve appeared the same. Your lips, soft and reminiscent of home, were curled. Your eyes, sparkling in the light, filled with confusion and hurt and curiosity, were ones he wanted to stare at him forever.

You swallowed, “Wh...what?”

Jungkook smiled, though this time he had crystalline streaks running down his face. This was the first time you’d ever seen Jeon Jungkook crying, gazing down at you with all the romance he’d ever felt. He held your face closer, admiring every contour, while you did the same. He was so inhumanely perfect that it hurt just to look at him. It hurt more to note that his fingers weren’t shaking anymore, instead steady and caressing your cheek as if you were some porcelain doll.

For the first time in his life, Jungkook was sure about what he felt.

“I love you.”

The world seemed to slow until everything was still.

Staring down at the most amazing, beautiful girl he’d ever set sight on, Jungkook felt completely at ease with what he’d said. There was no lie that he loved you, not with what his heart was telling him, in agreement with his brain. His heart thumped from just being this close to you, his thoughts serene and filled with images of your slowly-forming smile. He knew what he wanted. There wasn’t a hint of a doubt.

“Jungkook,” you whispered.

You’d been wrong this whole time. You ran from the man who loved you because you were… wrong. Days spent away from him when you could’ve been holding his hand, could’ve been holding him as if he were yours and you were his. You felt sick at the very thought- you overreacted, got your ass beat, holed up in some run down motel just because you were scared of him and what he could do to you.

“I..” you swallowed, and looked up at him. “I love you too.”

The most gorgeous smile you’d ever seen broke out across his cheeks. That bunny-like, childish grin of ecstasy made your heart flutter uncontrollably. He adjusted his hands on your cheeks and laughed out loud in relief, eyes twinkling in the setting sun. As if your minds were one, the two of you leaned up and down, allowing the space between you to close. For that moment, there was not Jeon Jungkook and ______ _______. It was one person, one mind, one heart, beating together in unison.

Your lips were soft against Jungkook’s, unbearably moist despite the cold. You tasted like vanilla chapstick and love, pressed close to his frame. He could feel the bones of your jaw and cheeks underneath his palms, holding you close, in complete and absolute love with the texture of your skin and the girl standing before him. You laughed against his lips and he moved his hands to hold you against his chest, feverishly finding any piece off your soft skin that he could.

“I love you,” Jungkook said again. “I love you so much. Please don’t ever run off like that again.”

You smiled up at him.

“I won’t.”

When you returned to his dorm, you admired the pure woodsy scent that Jungkook carried with him. Whenever you were over, you were always reminded of camping, what with the dark brown walls and creaking floorboards. He hurried to light his fireplace and ushered you to his room, claiming you could wear whatever of his clothing that you wanted. Listening to him struggling with lighting the fire, you stepped into his room, slowly stripping out of your old hoodie and cold jeans. Dressed in a bra and underwear, you hurried to pull on one of his sweatpants, then one of his soft cotton white t-shirts.

Footsteps stopped at the entrance to his bedroom. As his shirt dropped around you, you turned to find him standing at the doorway, leaned up against it. His eyes were half-lidded, admiring your image, and a small, soft smile formed on his lips.

“I love you,” he announced, smile becoming a grin.

Your cheeks flushed, “Yeah. I love you too.”

Jungkook leaped onto his bed, sprawled out across the sheets. With an affectionate glance, he said, “Come here.”

You obliged easily. Sliding onto the comforter beside him, your head fell onto his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart through his jacket. Jungkook’s arm slinked around you and held you close against his side.

“You scared me, you know,” his voice was soft and low, his fingers brushing your hair from your hands.

You closed your eyes and sighed, “I’m sorry. I was just… I’m not good with emotions.”

“Really?” Jungkook propped himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at you. “I couldn’t tell.”

You blushed, fighting the smile that wanted to form. “Shut up.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his own. The smile that threatened faltered, lost in the movements of his mouth against yours. Your free hand flew up to cup his face, holding his jaw, feeling it move beneath your fingertips. His lips slid from your bottom lip, where it stopped to suck, before they attached to your neck. You inhaled and ran your fingers through his hair, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Jungkook’s fingers teetered at the edge of his t-shirt. The sight of you wearing his clothes had to be on the top 5 most beautiful wonders of the world, especially with the heat that you emitted. They hesitated on your waist, gently pushing your shirt up. You looked down at him, nodding ever so slightly. Your go-ahead allowed Jungkook to push the shirt up until it was just beneath your breasts, reviewing a familiar yet new expanse of skin to explore. This was his first time being with you, just you, feeling every feeling that he could allow himself. It was just him, just you- no politics of a friends-with-benefits type of relationship.

You were his, and he was yours.

Finally.

anyone want a finalé?

The night was cold enough that Jungkook eventually decided to run. 

Having rushed out the front door without so much as a goodbye, his forgotten coat hardly lingered in the back of his mind. Teeth chattering and toes nearly frozen, Jungkook fell into a light jog in an effort to keep warm and to get to your dorm faster. The light poles were dim and cast a long-legged shadow of himself against the sidewalk, each stride harder than the last, each one more eager. His eyes burned with the memory of what you had said, replaying each syllable over and over again. He imagined the different ways you could’ve said it, how your face could’ve looked when you sent it. He wondered if it even mattered to you, or if getting rid of him was as easy as throwing out the trash.  

Jungkook couldn’t remember you talking to anyone else. Your phone never lit up with messages from anyone other than your manager or Somi, and he never saw anyone lingering around you during classroom hours. Your focus was always him when he was by. 

His stomach hurt. He felt like he’d throw up any second now, or that his throat would tighten until he couldn’t breathe anymore. His lungs burned from the cold air he inhaled, and his eyes stung with each short blink forced by the breeze. It seemed like years until he saw the light of your dorm come into view, a sight that used to be cathartic now his only stressor. Swallowing, he jogged to the front door and let himself in, suddenly enveloped in warmth and the scent of laundry. 

Jungkook never once stopped running. When he got to your door, he paused, halting with one fist raised to the door. The image of you on the other side, maybe crying or maybe unbothered- both of them made his stomach ache. After the moment of tight lungs passed he finally ratted on the door with his knuckles, nervously licking his lips and pushing his hair behind his head. 

Footsteps pitter-pattered on the other side of the door. He listened as they walked up to him, and glanced through the peephole to see who was there. Jungkook looked down at it and ran his fingers through his hair. “_____? Can you let me in?” There was silence, and not a move was made on either side off the door. “Please?” 

Still silence. 

Jungkook forced out a breath of exasperation, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. He pressed his hand against the door and flattened his palm, tapping it with his fingertips. He imagined your hand on the other side, pressing back. 

“_____-ah? L-Look... I don’t know what I did, but... but I can make it up to you,” Jungkook dropped his forehead against the door and leaned inwards. Some part of him wished he could walk right through that god damn door and hug you, just to feel your bones against him. “______-ah, please-” 

The door handle clicked, unlocked, and turned. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” she forced a tight-lipped, bitter smile. 

Jungkook stared at her, part of him disappointed to see who answered. “Where is she?” 

Somi rolled her eyes and looked outside in the hall to see if anyone was looking. Jungkook watched her, a mixture of emotions and all of them having to do with you. Pursing her lips, Somi assessed him and his lightening skin as a result of the cold, the slight chatter of his teeth, and sighed. “Come on.” 

She reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. With a hard yank, Jungkook came stumbling into the apartment, startled by the second influx of warmth that encased him. 

“What do you want?” Somi demanded, arms folded over her chest and eyes cold as glass. 

“Where did she go? Where is she?” Jungkook looked past her to see if he could catch a glimpse of you, but Somi’s death grip on his forearm kept him in place. 

“She left a while ago,” Somi declared. “I don’t know where she went. She grabbed her bag and left.” 

Jungkook jerked his arm out of Somi’s grasp and used it to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt hot, overheating, like at any moment he might succumb to death by fire. Wiping his brow, he glanced in the direction of your bedroom, then back to Somi. “Do you have any idea where she could’ve gone?” 

“No, asshole,” Somi glared at him, “I don’t. Do you?” 

Jungkook blinked. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, or something?” Somi rolled her eyes again, teeth ground together. “Shouldn’t you be off with some dumb blonde bitch fucking, or something? Isn’t that all you’re good for?” 

Blonde...  bitch? The only blonde he could think of was Minjoo, but what was Somi even talking about? He’d been dodging the subject of her for fear of hurting her feelings, but you’d been acting so weird lately. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Give up Minjoo for someone who might not feel the same? Give up you for a girl who begs to fuck him every day of the week? 

“Yeah, idiot,” Somi dug through her back pocket. She searched for something while Jungkook watched, eyes wide in confusion and mouth suddenly gone dry. She turned it around and held the screen up to his face. “We know you’re dating Minjoo, so why even come here?” 

The picture was of himself, staring down into his latte. He remembered that moment, trying to figure out why the flower you painted with cream was suddenly so evil, glaring up at him. The caption read “everyone look how handsome my man is”, paired with a pink heart emoji. Being called Minjoo’s man made him sick to his stomach, but the idea of you seeing this, thinking he’d been lying to you, hurt more. 

“She... She posted that?” Jungkook blinked, delicately trying to reach for the phone. Somi locked it and shoved it back in her pocket. 

She stared at him. “You didn’t know?” 

Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself up against the wall. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, tugging on it tightly, wondering why the hell she would do that. Suddenly he was going through all his memories with her, trying to piece together when she would’ve thought the two of you were dating. He was reminded of the day at the coffee shop, your cold eyes. The time in your bed when he got texts from her. That time in the library. 

You thought he was dating her. 

“I fucked u-” 

“Yeah,” Somi sighed, closing her eyes. “You did.” 

“What can I do?” Jungkook chewed on the bottom of his lip, voice earnest and hopeful. 

Somi straightened up. She figured she could give him the benefit of the doubt, if nothing else. 

 “Explain everything to me. I’m sure she’s fine.” 

Every blow to your face was another numbing thump, a soft tap on a bruise. Your head snapped to the side, then to the other, though you’d gone cold with pain a long time ago. Leaned up against the sparring mat, you listened to the sound of a whistle signal for your partner to get off, to allow you to recoup. 

It wasn’t that you were doing this because of Jungkook. Sure, Jungkook caused it, but you weren’t some type of Bella Swan. You weren’t going to lock yourself away. You were going to do what you knew best, regress into a stage of life where the only romance issues  you had were with Fanfictions and the only thing you had to worry about was getting your ass completely handed to you on the mat. 

You blinked, staring blankly across at the man who was meant to be your opponent. He was pacing back and forth, readjusting the strap around the gloves he wore. He wasn’t watching you anymore because he didn’t see you as a threat. He must’ve picked up on the way you allowed him to hit you, with little defensive moves to stop him. You were an easy target- young, hurt, trying to forget. 

You blinked again, but suddenly it wasn’t the man pacing before you, but another. A short, stocky build jumped to a tall, lean one, stepping across the mat with long, calculated strides. You watched the way his eyes changed to that homely shade of brown, dazzling in the dim lights. Now he was watching you, through the tops of his lids with lips twitching upwards into the sleepy smile he’d always given you in the morning. 

“Oh,” you muttered to yourself as you straightened up, cracking your knuckles in your palm, “fuck you.” 

The short man was back now, but it was too late for him. 

You were already charging at Jungkook with guns blazing. 

“She’s not answering,” Somi heaved, defeated on the love sofa of her apartment’s living room. Legs crossed and a pizza slice in hand, she took another greasy bite and chewed, staring angrily down at her phone. Across the couch was Jungkook, who might’ve now been on his thirtieth phone call that evening. 

“You haven’t seen her?” He asked Minjae, a student in one of his health classes. “Are you sure?” 

On the other end, Minjae suggested that she might’ve been somewhere in Seoul, or that she could have left the city altogether. The idea that this event might’ve driven her out of her own home and comfort made him sick. With a final thanks, Jungkook locked his phone and tossed it aside his thigh in exasperation. 

He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, throwing his head back against the sofa. 

“She’ll come back,” Somi sighed. “We have finals next month anyway. Worst comes to worst, we wait a month.” 

“I’m not waiting a fucking month,” Jungkook pushed himself off the couch, angrily shoving his feet back into his shoes. Somi watched, surprised at his sudden movements as he hurried to the front door. 

“Where’re you going?” Somi demanded, rising to her feet. 

Jungkook didn’t even spare a glance at her over his shoulder. “Wherever I can look,” he tugged his hoodie down and sighed. “The forecast said it might rain tonight. If she’s not indoors, she can catch a cold, or worse.” 

“She’s strong,” Somi declared, though half of her wanted to run out with him. 

“Don’t care,” Jungkook reached for the door handle. In half a second, Somi allowed that half of her to take control, rushing towards him. 

“Fine. Then I’m coming with.”  

This time, Jungkook glanced down at her. Somi squared her chin and glared at him, snatching her jacket off the hook. 

“What?” Somi snapped. “She’s my best friend. Plus, you’re the one who sent her into this.” Huffing, she yanked open the front door and proudly marched out, leaving Jungkook to stare at his feet. It was his fault. Somi was right. He sent you running- it was his fault. 

But it was someone else’s, too. 

“Wait,” Jungkook stopped in the middle of the dorm hallway, lips curling inwards and a muscle in his jaw flexing. Somi turned around to look at him, realization dawning on her. A sinister smirk twitched at the edges of her mouth. 

“Let’s go get that bitch.” 

The hotel room seemed superbly empty. 

And alone. 

You wondered why they would paint the walls such a dull shade of orange, or why the stain on the carpet looked suspiciously like blood. Generic paintings hung by the bathroom, which was not much more supreme. The bed was all springs beneath your sore limbs, squeaking with each movement you made to rest. 

All you heard was silence. 

Maybe you were being dramatic. You could go home, you thought. Face your problems for once instead of running away to cope. Why was it that you couldn’t cope like most people? Why couldn’t you stay in your dorm, waiting for Jungkook to come running, as though he hadn’t made you his second option in the past week? Why was your method of coping a fist to your face and your knuckles in another? 

Your phone had been off for the past few hours or so, though the temptation to turn it on was almost suffocating. A part of you, the addicted part, wanted to go on Twitter and see the latest funny posts- just so you could feel the ache of a smile. The other part was reminded that it was social media that led you to feeling this way. The caption replayed in your mind and in that silence, all you could hear were the words telling you that you’d been wrong to feel that way all along. 

Why weren’t you good enough? It didn’t come as a surprise that you asked yourself this question often. You thought you were used to being let down, to being disappointed. Yet now, this ache that you felt in your chest and the tightness of your stomach- this painful feeling of heartbreak was one you hadn’t felt since adolescence. 

You were pretty enough. Symmetrical enough to pass for ordinary, though as you stared at your bruised reflection across the empty hotel room you couldn’t help but think that there was nothing spectacularly special about your features. Hair was okay, eyes were detailed enough. Well, the one eye that wasn’t coming down from swelling, at least. Though, the longer you stared the more it seemed like your face wasn’t yours, and you closed your good eye shut tight to avoid seeing the stranger in that forsaken mirror. 

You wished you hadn’t caught feelings for a boy in college. Every story you read warned you, but the hope in your heart had led you to believe that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would feel the same. The mornings the two of you spent together warmed your core and you couldn’t help that. You couldn’t help how hopelessly you’d fallen for him, and you wished that you’d felt cold in his memories, but your lips still threatened a smile at the thought of him. 

A Morning Never Forgotten 

“Sleepy head..” 

A voice was singing above your face, yet your body knew that it was far too early to be up already. Helplessly tugging your blanket over your face, you managed to roll over, back to whoever was pestering you, and snuggled into the warmth and scent of the shirt you wore. Unexpectedly, the blanket was pushed closer onto you, tucked in around your shoulders by careful, hesitant fingers. 

“Hey,” that same voice whispered again, though this time it seemed less determined to wake you, and more as if it were speaking to the air. You felt two hands press down against your thighs, laying you flat against the mattress. A pair of sleepy eyes began to flutter open, and chapped lips yawned a nine-hour nap into the room. 

Jungkook hovered beside you, leaned up against the headboard with one shoulder and the other angled towards you. His disheveled head hung over yours, his own sleepy eyes sparkling down at you. A slow, relaxed smile spread across his face at the sight of your consciousness and he reached out to push strands of your hair back onto the pillow. 

You probably had three chins at that point in time. And granted, you liked to snore, so a dried trail of drool was definitely stuck on the side of your jaw. You couldn’t remember how much of your makeup you took off the night before, or how much melted off onto the sheets, but some part of you were certain that you had dark circles. 

For whatever reason, Jungkook didn’t mind. In fact, he admired the speckles of mascara on your cheekbones, and the rubbed side of your left eyebrow against the pillow case. Your disheveled, knotted hair wasn’t off-putting, but instead inviting, and he thought for a moment he could sit there and untangle it for hours, even if he couldn’t tangle it again. There was something about the way your tired eyes were lighter in the morning, something about the way they sparkled in the streams of sunlight barely managing to escape through the closed curtains. 

“Want some water?” Jungkook offered, trying to hide his amused smile. 

You blinked slowly and yawned again, tiredly rubbing at your eyes. “Please?” 

Chuckling lowly, Jungkook reached over to grab a half-drunk bottle off the nightstand. You watched how the muscles in his arm flexed as he leaned over your figure, and admired the tiny bruise just above his collarbone- your unintentional handiwork. 

“What?” 

Your gaze darted from his bicep to his eyes, which were squinted mischievously. 

“See something you like?” Jungkook teased, settling down beside you to hand you the water. You scoffed and took it, sitting up straight to drink from the bottle. Jungkook watched the way your jaw flexed- an action subtle, that reminded him of the way you’d looked last night, staring up at him in the dim lights with your lips perfectly wrapped around- 

“See something you like?” You swallowed your last gulp and brushed your fingers through your hair, fighting your sideways grin at the man beside you. 

Jungkook snatched the bottle from your hands and slammed it down onto the nightstand. You watched him, eyebrows raised in surprise, though they instantly lowered the moment his fingers cupped your jaw and pulled you in close. Warmth flooded your chest cavity, filling you up from head to toe and burning your cheeks a delightful shade. Something inside you changed that morning, that one blissful time the two of you were graciously allowed to spend alone. You weren’t sure what it was at the time, but you knew that this feeling, this inescapable emotion of pure home wouldn’t leave quite so easily. 

As for Jungkook, part of him already knew what this feeling was. 

“Minjoo!” 

Three hard knocks banged on Kim Minjoo’s door, resounding throughout the otherwise quiet living room. Startled, Minjoo looked up from her textbook, glanced at her phone screen, lit up with ignored messages, then to the door. 

Who could be visiting her at this hour? 

Confused, she pushed herself back from the small, round table and rose to her feet, treading hesitantly towards the front door. Rising to her tiptoes, Minjoo brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and looked through the peephole. 

Big brown eyes stared back at her. Jeon Jungkook looked utterly disheveled, what with his messed locks of hair and panic on his face. Beside him, Minjoo spotted someone she recognized, though she couldn’t recall a name. It was the brown-haired girl with the one who worked at the coffee shop, and for a moment she wondered what the two of them could’ve possibly needed from her. 

“...Hello?” Minjoo pulled the door back and stared at the both of them curiously. Her gaze lingered on Jungkook, the more familiar of the two, and a smile twitched at her lips. 

“Minjoo,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, “we need to talk.” 

She stepped back, glancing at the hallway to see if there were any other people watching. “Come in.” 

“Alright, look, bitch,” the brown-haired girl came barging through the door before Minjoo could even get the words out. Dragging mud underneath her boots, the girl marched right into the living room and folded her arms stubbornly. 

“Woah,” Jungkook eyed the stranger, “chill.” 

She glared back at him. 

Minjoo watched the interaction with pursed lips. “Excuse me?” 

“Look,” Jungkook paced around the living room, looking about as stressed out as he’d ever been. Minjoo’s expression filled with worry at the sight of him. She stepped towards the man to comfort him, though Jungkook flinched, taking a step back from her outstretched hand. “You posted a picture of me on Twitter. You called me... ‘your man’.” 

Minjoo blinked. “And?” 

The girl snorted. “What do you mean ‘and’? You and Jungkook aren’t dating.” 

Minjoo looked over at Jungkook, eyebrows furrowed down so far her eyes became shadows. “What’s your problem with me posting things of us, Jungkook?” 

“We’re not-” Jungkook frustratedly paced back towards Minjoo, towering over her height. His jaw clenched angrily. “We’re not dating, Minjoo. And someone I care about very, very much saw that picture.” 

The realization began to dawn on Minjoo. She remembered seeing him and the girl who works at the coffee shop together after class sometimes, but their laughter always seemed friendly. Looking back on it now, maybe Jungkook was looking at her in the way Minjoo had convinced herself he wasn’t. She remembered seeing the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the sound of his name being called from that girl’s lips, and the way they fell onto his coffee cup, as if it had burned right through his skin. 

“The girl,” Minjoo assumed, looking up at him, “from the coffee shop.” 

“Her name is ______,” the stranger declared suddenly, glaring at Minjoo over the coffee table. 

“Yes,” Jungkook sighed. He couldn’t meet Minjoo’s eyes. Had he led her on this whole time? Had he ever done anything to make her think he felt something close to love for her? 

“You love her?” Minjoo tilted her head. While her words were smooth, calculated, her heart felt as if it might snap, and her eyes burned more than they ever had without sleep. 

Jungkook froze, startled by the sudden question. “Excuse me?” 

Minjoo laughed bitterly. Her glare was piercing when she looked back at him, arms folded over her chest and bottom lip threatening to quiver. “I said, do. You. Love. Her?” 

The question had taken aback Jungkook. He’d never been asked so straightforward how he felt about someone, not ever. For some reason, the word “love” made his heart beat right out of his chest, in some cartoonish fashion he prayed no one could see. That single word had the ability to bring him back to memories he had with you, the ones in the morning, particularly the one after a long night of carnival games. The way your smile sparkled in the fairy lights flipped on a switch within him. 

He didn’t have a word for it then, but he supposed “love” might be able to capture the feelings he felt for you. 

“Yes.” 

Minjoo blinked, eyes falling to her feet. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How many people had seen the photo she posted? For how long had she led herself on to believe Jeon Jungkook might actually feel something for her, too? 

“I’ll take it down,” she stepped back from him, spinning on her heel to head for her cell phone. “I got the wrong impression. I’m sorry.” 

The stranger seemed confused at Minjoo’s actions. Had she doubted her intentions? Her feelings? Had Minjoo portrayed herself as such an ass that it was a shock to that girl that she had truly felt something for the idiot boy standing in her living room? 

Jungkook chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Have you... did you see _____ earlier at all?” 

Minjoo glanced at him over her shoulder. She debated on telling him the truth- that she’d seen the girl heading downtown with a dufflebag and a black eye. Or that she knew that there was only one hotel she could be staying at that was cheap and effective- benefits of being a psychology major. 

Minjoo squared her jaw and looked at the two of them. “No idea.” 

It was beginning to rain. 

Jungkook looked up at the sky angrily, pulling his hood up over his head to keep his hair from becoming wet locks in his eyes. Beside him, Somi searched quickly on her phone, looking for any hotel in the area that was cheap. 

“Dammit, ______,” Jungkook cursed, pacing worriedly in the courtyard. Seated on the bench, Somi glanced up at him. She could see that there was genuine concern on his face. She wished that you would just answer your fucking phone, just to tell her that you were okay- she deserved more than to be ignored. 

Jungkook heart was pounding so fast he thought it might implode. He kept picturing you, somewhere out in the rain, cold and alone and teeth-chattering. The image was enough to send his body into fight or flight mode, activating all of his senses to start running, to start frantically searching for you. 

One lazy arm was strewn over your stomach. It rose and fell with each soft snore and mumbled sleepy words. You could feel the warm of the sun streamed through the window landing on your cheek, stirring you from your dream. Torn from a fantasy dealing with a brown-haired boy, your tongue wet your dry lips and your eyes fluttered open. 

The first thing you saw were piles of clothes in the corner of the room, any of which would become your outfit for that day’s lecture. Sunlight landed on any surface it could, illuminating the room with a soft, gold glow. For a moment you felt you were alone in that room by yourself, listening to your steady breaths and the soft hum of the radio on the nightstand, before you realized that your bed was occupied. 

Lately, it seemed it always was. 

Eyes trailing down the expanse of your body, you found an arm thrown across your waist, hugging you close against a warm chest. A soft inhale proved that it was Jeon Jungkook, snugly asleep behind you. His usual scent of cotton and laundry enveloped you. The tiniest hint of a smile crept up on your lips, twitching up the corners. You caught yourself before your teeth could show, and slowly turned to look at him. 

Jungkook, of course, was sound asleep. His jaw was agape, his snores rumbling low against his makeshift pillow. You fondly brushed a strand of his light hair out of his eyes, and sighed. 

Your situation was getting worse. You promised yourself those feelings you felt were just because of the things the two of you had done together. They had to be. 

Jungkook’s mouth moved and he pressed his lips together with a tiny sigh, “Are you watching me sleep?” 

Your gaze darted up to his eyes, which were slowly peeling apart to look up at you. Those long, feather-like eyelashes brushed the bone of his structured cheek. Warm and sleepy, Jungkook stared at you through the tops of his eyes, lips curving into a smile. 

You coughed and looked away, face burning. “What? Pffffffft,” you scoffed, immediately pulling back from him, “no, that’s, like, so weird.” 

Jungkook’s grip tightened around your waist. “Yeah?” He laughed, a deep, rumbling noise that matched his morning voice. Leaning upwards, he caught your cheek with his lips, softly planting kisses along your burning face. You felt your heart expanding, your chest tightening with whatever feeling this was. You’d never felt it before- this curdling, suffocating feeling. 

Jungkook’s lips captured yours in one long, savored kiss. Instinctively you reached up to caress his jaw, but caught yourself. That was too much. He wasn’t your boyfriend, you reminded yourself. You couldn’t hold him like that, not in the way other girls were. 

“I, uh,” you pulled back, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I have class in thirty minutes.” 

He pushed himself up so that he was above you, his height an advantage that allowed you to look up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t have possibly known what he was feeling in that moment- if his heart was tight like yours, if his breath was caught in his throat like yours. 

“So?” Jungkook pursed his lips in rejection. “You don’t have to get dressed nice or anything.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, but you swiftly turned to grab your phone, acting as if you hadn’t seen his move. He hesitated inches away from your face. “What’s wrong?” 

Your mind flashed back to the tiniest hint of a hickey you’d found on his throat. It wasn’t yours, and you knew it. Your stomach clenched and fell between your legs, though you fought to keep this bit of information out of your expression. You forced your best smile and looked sideways at him, as if he were the one acting odd. “Nothing, weirdo.” 

Jungkook pouted and placed his hands on either of your thighs. “Can I have a kiss then?” 

You imagined, for a split second, what this could be. If he was your boyfriend. If he’d bring you lunch to work, if he’d send you cute messages or comment nice things on pictures you posted, if he’d show you off on his social media- or to his friends. Jungkook would be an amazing boyfriend, and you were sure of it. 

He just wouldn’t be yours. 

Your gaze faltered. “I really… I should really go take a shower.” 

On the nightstand, Jungkook’s phone buzzed. You glanced over, saw the message, and looked away. He watched you as you pushed yourself off the bed and brushed your hair behind your ears, hurrying towards the restroom. Jungkook pressed his hands to his face and groaned, falling sideways onto the bed. 

He always messed things up. Did he say something wrong? Was he coming on too strong? Did he have morning breath? 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself as he snatched his phone off the nightstand, angrily checking what message had sent you running away. 

+70291739472: heyyyy cutie, wyd tonight? (;

Who even was this? Jungkook couldn’t remember which girl it was texting him, but after scrolling up he suddenly recalled who she was- some girl in his environmental science class that he used to mess around with that was way too clingy and horny. But, he knew it was dumb to drop all the girls he ever talked to for one girl, for you, and in doing so he would get hurt. It had happened too many times before- where he gives  up everything for someone who doesn’t feel the same. 

He couldn’t have you. He couldn’t have the obnoxious snores you made during psych when you fell asleep, or the drool that you would readily wipe away upon returning to consciousness. He couldn’t have your awkward jokes mumbled under your breath to keep your spirits up, or the jovial smile you gave to every customer you tended to. He’d ruin you. 

Right? 

jungkook: nothing, wbu? (;

“That’s not even true,” you laughed, shaking your head as you scribbled down a definition into your notebook. Across from you, a black-haired girl threw her head back and snorted, nearly spitting her coffee all over your book. 

“Is, too,” Somi persisted. “On my life, I swear she watches horse porn.” 

An onlooker in the aisle beside your study space looked over at the two of you. You laughed into your hand and fought your instinct to slam your hand on the desk in amusement. By far, you and Somi were the two loudest people in the library, even amongst the subtle hum of chatter that buzzed around the entrance. Hidden in the back corner, you were propped up in a comfortable reclining chair, legs crossed and textbook in your lap. A pop-up table allowed you to copy vocab into your notebook. Across from you, Somi laid on her stomach on the floor, giggling uncontrollably into her hoodie. 

“Hey,” Somi suddenly said, looking up at you with red cheeks. “So how about J?” 

J was the codeword the two of you used for Jungkook. Your eyes darted towards her at the mention of him. Pursing your lips, you huffed and scribbled down the definition for ‘manifest content’. “What about him?” 

“When’re you going to ask him on, like, a real date?” Somi questioned. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting cross-legged, gazing up at you speculatively. 

“Um, like, never,” you mocked, rolling your eyes. 

“Why not?” Somi demanded with a large and heavy sigh. “If it’s some bullshit reason like ‘he’s the guy so he has to do it’ I will shove my foot up your 19th-century ass hole.” 

You scrunched up your face. Before you could shoot back with some pithy remark, your words died on your tongue, and your stomach dropped. 

From your seat, you could clearly see the entrance, and Jungkook sauntering in. He had to be dressed casually- of course he did. His white v-neck and sweatpants would most certainly be the death of you. You watched as he paused at the entrance, looking around as you hid underneath the hood of your sweater. His lips curled into a frown and he pulled his phone from his back pocket, typing a quick message. 

jungkook: hey, you working? 

Your phone buzzed on your lap. Carefully glancing at it, you looked up to make sure he didn’t see you, and shot back a quick response: 

you: yup. 

“Look at him,” Somi whispered, dragging herself closer to your chair. “He looks totally conflicted.” 

“Somi,” you sighed, “no one uses that word in a real conversation.” 

“Shut up.” 

But he did, or at least you thought so. You watched him stare at his phone, fingers lingering over the keys and typing messages. The little bubble formed at the bottom of your screen, disappearing and reappearing in unison with Jungkook’s thumbs. You thought, maybe, he’d shoot you a response- or, the hopeful part of you did. 

You never knew what his message said. His thumbs stopped when someone called out his name, drawing his attention and jerking his head up. Someone was jogging towards him, weaving their way through the crowd of sleep-deprived college students. Not even the scent of your coffee by your lap could calm you, not when some blonde haired girl was hurrying towards him. You watched, stomach tight, as she threw her skinny arms over his  shoulders  and pulled him close. You knew this proximity, the way she guided herself over his height so easily. She’d left the hickey. 

“Oh,” Somi’s eyebrows fell in disappointment. She quickly glanced towards you, placing a hand on your knee comfortingly, “He’s an asshole.” 

“No,” you smiled tightly at her, shrugging it off, “he’s just a friend with benefits. He can do whatever, whoever, he wants.” 

Somi chewed her lip. “_____-” 

“Seriously, Somi,” you shook your head and looked down at your book. You didn’t think you could bare to see the way Jungkook and that girl would look at one another. Maybe he looked at her in all the ways he never would with you. Maybe he sent her text messages saying “thinking of you” throughout the day. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not-”

“I should get ready for work,” you closed your book with the notes inside it. 

Somi stared at you, lips parted. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t bother you,” she announced, chin lifted high and eyes soft. “Not with me.” 

You smiled slyly and shoved your book into the bag sitting on the floor. “Somi,” you sighed, shaking your head as if she couldn’t possibly understand. “I knew what I was getting myself into. He doesn’t feel that way about me.” 

Somi jumped to her feet the second you rose to yours. Her eyes bore into yours, concerned and urgent, begging you to stop and talk to her. Your gaze darted from her back to the entrance, watching Jungkook and that girl head to the back corner you and Somi were stationed at. Your breath caught and you slung your bag over your chest. 

“I’ll text you,” you told her in a hushed voice. Somi called out for you as you hurried towards the exit, fingers cold and practically shaking at your sides. You kept your head down, eyes averting his as you pushed past. 

Jungkook saw your hoodie and he knew it was you, even though you tucked all your hair away and forced a shadow across your face. His stomach sank when he realized you were avoiding him- you weren’t at work, and your texts were short. 

As you practically ran past him, Jungkook was tempted to grab your wrist, to ask why you were acting weird, to demand an explanation. He wanted to badly to feel the comfort of your warm smile aimed at him, or to at least know you still wanted him. His feet moved on their own and swiveled around to look at you, watching your hooded figure shuffle out the sliding doors. 

“Who’s that?” Minjoo wondered, staring at your back disappearing down the  street. 

Jungkook caught the word on his tongue before he said it. “Uh.. a girl in my intro to psych class.” 

Minjoo nodded, as if she could possibly understand. 

The other part of Jungkook whispered in his ear the word his heart ached to claim. 

girlfriend. 

p.2

“Earth to _____?” 

The vibrating chatter of Sunrise patrons hummed against your skin, lulling you into some state of hypnosis as you pressed a cup of coffee down into the machine. Your eyes were stuck open, staring blankly across at the posters on the brick-styled wall. Fatigue weighed heavily down on your shoulders, a stark reminder that for the past weeks you’d spent your time during the night doing the opposite of sleeping- a bad choice on your part, and you knew it. With heavy eyelids, you forced a long, drawn out blink, tethering yourself back down to the present. 

“Sorry,” you pushed out a laugh and foamed the top of the drink, sheepishly gazing sideways at a coworker. Taehyung stared at you curiously and took the drink from your shaking fingers, which he too eyed suspiciously, then called out the customer’s name. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Taehyung muttered as he walked around your back, letting his sights travel over your rolled jeans and loose-fitting t-shirt. There were no signs of you being hurt anywhere, and he pursed his lips in part worry, part confusion. 

You moved to look at the next given order, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. “Yeah, Tae,” you reassured him, “I think I did too much coke last night, though.” 

Taehyung snorted. You grinned sneakily at him, and began to press another cup of coffee down once again. 

“You can tell me,” Taehyung announced sideways at you as he handed a customer back her cash. The woman smiled softly at him and dropped change into one of the two jars: one reading ‘Mario’ and the other reading ‘Luigi’. The cups changed tip names once a day, depending on whoever was working. Sometimes it was Hamlet vs. Caesar, Jackson vs. Jefferson, etcetera. 

You slid the next mug onto the counter and called out the name. The first syllable rolled off your tongue before it hit you-  who the name belonged to. Raising your eyebrows, you felt your stomach clench with nervousness, eyes wide and surprised as you looked across the room. 

Seated by the decorative board with lists of ads probably decades old was none other than Jungkook. He was still wearing that God forsaken boyfriend-esque outfit, but now there was a beanie pulling his hair back from his face, allowing those curious brown eyes to roam over the posters. The midday sunlight was streaming in through the glass wall, illuminating his tan skin with an angelic haze that made you want to choke the life out of him. And although your fingers twitched to punch his stupidly handsome face, his profile struck a chord within you, reminding you of a time much simpler than this one.

The living room was cold and smelt of pizza and wings, both of which had occupied ample space on the coffee table by your chest. Cross-legged and dressed in only a lengthy, long t-shirt, you chewed at your third slice of pizza ravenously. Beside you, Jungkook watched you out of the corner of his eye, smiling softly to himself when he spotted the smear of barbeque sauce on your cheek. 

“That’sh sho dumb,” you huffed, angrily staring at the television. Jungkook felt his smile turn into an amused grin. You swallowed, and for a moment he thought you would (for once) speak with your mouth empty- at least, until, you tore another piece of chicken off and continued. “Why can’t Leshlie mm Ben jusht dade?” 

Jungkook glanced at the show, where two characters sadly stared at each other across a table, then back to you. He couldn’t help but admire you like this- no makeup, hair a mess and tied back so you could eat easily, his shirt and underwear on. You were a vision with or without looking like this, but he always had a thing for unknown beauty. And while you were confident, you couldn’t have possibly known the things your smile did to him. 

You felt his stare burning a hole into your cheek. Glancing at him oddly out of the corner of your eye, you turned to look at him, finally swallowing. “What?” You demanded, confused. “Something on my face?” 

Jungkook tilted his head to the side, smiling. You furrowed your eyebrows and reached up to wipe your face clean, but his hand shot outwards and caught your wrist before you could. “Yeah,” he lowered your hand, though his other one came around to wipe the sauce off. Your cheek pushed against his fingers, soft and warm and brightening at his touch. 

He stared at your wide, surprised eyes. Although the two of you had been messing around for a month now (he was counting), you still were always delightfully shocked at his actions. Your blush and that bashful look you got was his favorite of your expressions- well, that and your happy one… and your mad one… actually, all of them were his favorite. 

You blinked, gulping. Jungkook leaned forwards on natural instinct, unable to stop himself from feathering his lips against your cheek. Your chest expanded with something indescribable at the gentle gesture, a stark difference from how he’d been only just an hour ago. You remembered the way he looked at you from above you, how he held onto your waist tightly and roughly and panted your name into your shoulder. 

Something warm and soft found your lips. You melted into Jungkook’s touch as you always had, hands moving up to cup his jaw, feeling the structure beneath your palm. Your mouth felt as if it had lit up, eyes closed and everything dark, but your lips were neon red, pulsing in the absence of light like a beacon. Wherever he touched you was vibrant yellow, glowing against the color of your skin, a mental map outlining the dance of his fingers. 

And oh, his fingers….

You blinked, jerking yourself back to the then and now. 

Jungkook jumped to his feet. For a moment, you felt excited- here he was, the boy you tended to obsess over, walking towards you, about to speak to you- but that feeling shattered at the now visible sight of a blonde sitting across from him. Disappointment felt onto your chest, weighing you down against the tile floors. She looked too perfect seated there, with her hair immaculately straight and her eyes a dazzling hue of emerald. If you were Jungkook, you’d probably be with her instead of you, too. 

“Hey,” Jungkook’s pink lips curved into that annoying smile of his. His eyes scrunched up as he reached for the drink, fingers curling around the handle of the mug. He glanced down at the foam design you made out of boredom- a generic, tiny little emblem of a flower. His heart grew warm at the sight of it. 

You reminded yourself to breathe and forced your gaze away, “Hi.” 

He wasn’t an idiot, and you knew that he knew you were avoiding him. The disappointed look on his face said it all, but you had to remind yourself that to him, you were a quick lay and the person he could text when he didn’t do the study packets. “Um, _____, do you think we could maybe-” 

“I can’t tonight,” you looked back over at him with cold eyes. You couldn’t do that- not anymore, not knowing that he’d been with other girls- in other girls. And you knew it was ridiculous of you to feel this way, to even act this way. Jungkook wasn’t yours, he never said he was yours, and vice versa. Yet, your heart had already given itself away, knocking on the closed door of Jungkook’s chest. 

Jungkook blinked. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to say-” 

You laughed lightly, bitterly, to yourself, knowing very well that people were watching and Taehyung was nearby to sweep you away whenever he pleased. “You don’t have to talk to me,” you shot back bitingly, “you don’t owe me that.” 

Jungkook wasn’t sure where this was all coming from, but he knew that it hurt. He knew that he didn’t like when you smiled at him like that- not the smile he kept as his hidden wallpaper, but a smile that was all business, that wasn’t his smile, not the one reserved just for him. It wasn’t the sleepy morning smile you gave him. 

Frowning, he glanced backwards to see that Minjoo was watching him now, her head cocked to the side and confusion written all over her face. 

“Hey,” Taehyung’s suddenly comforting voice interjected. Your head swiveled  around in his direction, eyes silently thanking him for pulling you from that delightful conversation. “Can you cover the register?” 

Without so much as a goodbye, or even a glance, you wiped your gloved hands down on your apron and nodded. As you passed by him, you muttered Taehyung a soft “God bless your grandparents” and hurried to punch in your sign-in code. 

Jungkook’s mouth felt dry. The mug in his hand, that tiny little flower, no longer felt warm, but cold. He swallowed, trudging back to his seat, and plopped down in defeat, staring longingly at the dissipating flower as if your face might pop up, all smiles and kind, loving words. He wasn’t sure what he meant to you, now. Maybe he was just a fuck to you. Maybe all that you cared about was his dick and now that you’d gotten what you wanted on more than one occasion, you were done. 

But your smile used to be so warm. 

Now it was so cold. 

“Long day?” Somi wandered into your bedroom. You were unashamed, laid out in nothing but a robe scrolling through Twitter posts. You flashed her a grin and flipped over. 

“Do we have any bleach in the dorm?” You wondered, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m thinking of adding it to the menu.” 

“Bleach frap?” Somi toed over to your bed and fell onto her chest, sighing long and dramatically against the comforter. “I’ll gladly take buy it.” 

There was silence as you counted scuff marks of the popcorn ceiling. You could feel the question on Somi’s tongue, though she never asked it. The tension in the room was tight and high strung, so much so that you were tempted to get up and perform an impromptu rendition of PPAP.

“What?” You finally rolled over, glaring at your roommate suspiciously. 

Somi blinked. “What?” 

“Ask your question,” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. Somi glanced away and pursed her lips comically, muttering to herself before she finally sat up. 

“I don’t have a question,” Somi announced with a shoulder shrug. 

You stared at her, “Seriously?” 

Somi casually looked out the window and nodded, “Seriously.” 

“Well,” you scooted closer to her, chewing on the inside of your cheek with squinted eyes, “then what do you wanna tell me?” 

She shook her head, “Nothing, you weirdo.” 

“Somi,” you tilted your chin and folded your arms, as if you were scolding a child. 

“____,” Somi returned. 

“Somi,” you looked at her through the tops of her eyes, hoping that you looked somewhat threatening. 

“I-” 

“Just tell me you fuckhead,” you pushed yourself up to your feet, glaring at her. Somi rolled onto her back and sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her face dramatically. You watched as she mumbled to herself, debating over something of which you had no idea about, before she finally came to what seemed like a decision. She dug through her back pocket for her phone and curled her lips into a thin, unamused line. 

Without warning she was tossing her phone in your direction. You quickly caught it, fumbled for a moment, then turned it over to take a look at whatever had been bothering her. 

The picture was of Jungkook- of course, it had to be. You couldn’t have one day where he wasn’t intruding in some way or another, though if you were being honest with yourself you weren’t too torn in seeing his face on your timeline. 

The twitter handle was @minjoowinchmajor, a name you weren’t familiar with, but you were with the picture. It was taken at your job, in your cafe, in the same chair you remembered seeing him sitting at. You assumed the person who had taken the picture was the girl he was with, the immaculate blonde one, judging by the angle. Jungkook wasn’t even looking at the camera, he was staring down into his coffee cup, and you had to wonder if he knew she posted this of him.

The caption read “everyone look at how handsome my man is”, paired perfectly with a cute little pink heart emoji. The fond term coiled your stomach into knots, suddenly turning it into a pro-gymnast on crack. On top of your fatigue now was anxiety, bubbling in the very core of your chest, making it feel tight, like you couldn’t breathe. 

That was his girlfriend? Jungkook had a girlfriend? Since when? Had he been cheating on her with you? You, of all people he could cheat on her with? 

“I know,” Somi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “They’re such little snakes-”  

“It’s fine.” You locked her phone and handed it to her calmly. 

Somi closed her eyes tight and shook her head, “____, it’s not. He’s an asshole, okay? He doesn’t deserve you.” 

While your insides sparked with an intensity you hadn’t felt in years, with such an anger that your head spun, you moved slowly towards your phone. Somi watched in confusion as you typed out a message, fingers moving carefully and precisely. “What’re you doing?” 

Your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ button. It was such a petty, simple move to send the message. You knew everything you could’ve wanted, could’ve had, would be gone with a simple press of a button. You knew you’d ruin it, whatever you had with Jungkook. But an image formed in your mind- an image that spoke volumes, an image of him and a beautiful blonde girl curled up in bed together, watching movies and listening to music and doing everything you’d ever wanted with him. 

Jungkook made his choice. 

And now you were making yours. 

A mile away, locked inside the boy’s dorm with a brown-haired boy seated on the couch in the living room, Jungkook returned with a bucket of popcorn and a pretend smile. He plopped down besides his roommate, Park Jimin, and was about to press play on the Vine compilation meant to lift his spirits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Jungkook’s heart skipped when he saw the name- one of the only names in his phone, since he never took the time of day to put other people’s names in. 

Jimin watched as Jungkook’s raised, spritely eyebrows fell, how his eager smile faltered and twitched into a straight, blank line. He couldn’t tell what expression Jungkook was wearing, but the boy’s eyes were… were they shining? In the dark, they looked like they were sparkling, and after a beat of confusion he realized they were watering. 

Jimin looked up, concerned. “Dude,” he began, rising to his feet as Jungkook pushed the bowl off his lap and onto the floor. The popcorn spilled like a splatter across the rug. His first instinct was to scold his younger friend, but the curse died on his tongue when the twenty year-old rushed out the front door. 

Eyebrows furrowed, Jimin reached down to grab the phone out of the mess he’d made. 

sunshine: whatever this is, whatever we’re doing, i think it’s better if we end it. im sorry. please dont contact me again. thanks for all the “fun” times. i hope everything goes well for you.