#scriptaed

her side;

“So do you like him or not?” 

This must be the first time someone, besides yourself, has ever raised suspicions at your blossoming fondness for a particular man. The last time you had questioned your affections was at the pinnacle of a relation you’ve so desperately attempted to smother. You can still recall the pull of his magnetic force, his hands on your cheeks, and the way the touch of his lips are enough to envelop you with warmth, even whilst in the midst of a pool at midnight. Your feelings for him were confirmed then, it’s unequivocal; and despite burying such an epiphany after all these weeks, your heart still grows tender over a memory you wish had never existed in the first place.

“What?” you turn to give Yezi the most bewildered face you could muster just as you plop your hamper onto the floor. “Like who?” 

Your friend glares at you with her crossed arms and deadpans, “you know who I mean and if I need to say his name aloud for you to answer, you bet I will.” 

Knowing full well just how seriously Yezi takes her words, your eyes bulge at her bold proclamations before frantically scanning the laundry room of your apartment for possible witnesses. Just as you’re about to exhale in relief, your friend follows through with her promise a level or two higher than you would have liked. 

“Wait, Yezi—”

“—Jungkook! Your colleague, your ex partner! Jeon Jungkook!” she throws her arms up. “Do you like him or what?”

“Shh,” you almost jab a finger at her mouth and hiss, “are you trying to start rumors about me at work?” 

“Well, no, but it doesn’t matter if they’re not true, right?” she somehow manages to say with your fingers pressed against her squished lips. “Why have you been avoiding him lately anyways?”

“What do you mean I’ve been avoiding him?” The crease of your brows is the best look of disbelief you could gather. “I haven’t been avoiding him.”

Her chest heaves as she lets out a frustrated sigh, “oh, really?” 

It isn’t much of a surprise to you that Yezi could see right through you. Typically, after all the training you’ve undergone at pretending to get along with your coworkers, you’ve done an adequate job at masking your organic thoughts; but ever since you met him, Jeon Jungkook, you’ve caught yourself slipping up more than you would like. From genuine laughter to unapologetic cackles, from daring staring challenges to bashful peeks through the corners of your eyes, and from greeting him whenever you had the chance to going out of your way to avoid him at all costs, any fool could tell your affections for the man has changed with time. Whether the change is for the better or worse, Yezi couldn’t tell because not even you could explain it yourself. 

If Yezi knew you had attempted to cover your face as you crossed paths with Jungkook only for your pitiful efforts to be in vain when he calls your name out wide into the open because you were shy, she would have made fun of you. If she knew you had almost completely turned around while going up the stairs because you spotted him climbing down the stairs only for him to call out to you once again and for you to freeze because you noticed just how well his new ear piercing suited him, she would have rightfully suspected your growing infatuation; but if she were to discover you had meticulously planned out your paths at work in order to avoid the man of such admirations, she would have never understood your logic. 

The only conclusion you could surmise of your seemingly contradicting actions would have been a dreadful punishment to have to say aloud: you’ve never been the unconfident type before, but to put it simply, the boy is just too gorgeous for you to be unfazed...

...and luckily, you don’t have to explain yourself, because the second reasoning behind your complexity has arrived. 

“Hey Y/N, are you using that washer?”

She knows your name…? Jennie? Of all people?

“Oh, uh,” you snap out of your thoughts and nod, “yeah, I am. Sorry.”

“No, that’s fine,” she presses her lips into a tight, small smile, “I’ll come back later.” 

And with that, the girl gently shuts the door behind her and the silence left behind is almost as if she had never entered before. Turning to glance at each other, you and your friend are nearly at a loss for words over the sudden appearance of the very person you had been on the lookout for; but before you could switch the topic, Yezi beats you to it. 

“Since when did she know your name?” 

“I don’t know. Never talked to her before,” you blink blankly, barely able to mumble as you proceed to squat to floor level and insert a quarter into the washer, “I didn’t even know she lived in this complex.” 

“Neither did I,” Yezi leans against the machine as she warily observes your every expression before proceeding, “do you think the rumors about… him… and her are true?”

Shit—you think to yourself, even as you try to conceal the sudden restriction in your chest—who knew even the thought of them two together could make you feel like this.

“Jennie, just listen—” 

—the two of you turn heads to find Jungkook at the doorway; and while Yezi walks up to confront him, you quickly whip your head around and position your back on him in a desperate attempt to hide your presence… because out of all times and places, your crush just has to appear in your apartment complex with you in your most vulnerable, unseen state, bare-faced and in your pajamas. 

Not to mention, how are you supposed to hide the dreadful drop in your stomach that wrings you dry? Why is he here? And why is he calling out to Jennie?

“Jennie actually just left,” you can hear Yezi’s voice fading into the distance as she exits the room, “here, in this direction, over heeere.”

...and finally, when the door clicks closed and you internally finish thanking Yezi for her efforts in luring the boy elsewhere, you let out a bated breath. Without having to worry about your untidy appearance, you toss the remainder of your panties, bras, and bright pink pillowcases into the washer. Standing to your feet and heaving a sigh of relief as you watch the washer dispense heaps of water onto your undergarments, you whirl around and—

“—hey—”

“—holy shit,” you almost yelp when you find Jungkook standing right before you, pressing his lips into a crooked smile at you. Why does he always have to go out of his way to seek you out? And even though you had been fussing over your appearance just a few seconds prior, you find yourself frozen and distracted by his presence once again. Today, you’re blaming that mustard sweater of his; because even though he tends to stray from colors outside of navy, gray, white, and black, the boy had somehow made mustard his color. All you can muster is a wide-eye and an uttered, “whoa.”

The boy lowers his eyes to glance at his own sweater, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. Looking back at it now, you should have explicitly complimented him instead; but before you could snap out of your frenzy and save yourself from the guilt, Jungkook persists, “how has life been for you?”

“Huh? Life?” you repeat. Oh, right, what else is there to talk about now that you two are no longer acquainted at work? Then why is he trying to strike up a conversation? You hope to God he won’t be mentioning the kiss on that particular night. “I mean, good, I guess. What about you?”

“Really? ‘Good?’” he scrunches his brows and cracks a grin of disbelief. “I guess I’m asking the wrong person.”

“What?” you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips. “What do you mean?”

“It hasn’t been too great for me,” he buries his hands into his pockets and grins helplessly. “Work and life, I mean. I’ve fucked up at both.”

“Oh… really? I’m sure it’ll be okay—” for the first time, less words come to you than the boy before you “—why are you here? You don’t live here.”

“How do you know that?” he raises a brow.

“Because you told me you live on the other side of the bridge.”

“Oh, I did?” he chuckles. “Why can’t I be here?”

“Not saying you can’t—” because, really, you’re more concerned over the possible relations between him and the girl who had “coincidentally” entered just seconds prior “—I was just asking.”

“You own this whole complex?” he quips, cocking a wry grin at you. “Can’t I hang out with some friends?”

“Right, friends…” you mutter to yourself, even if you don’t believe it yourself. “No, go right ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

The faded smiles and playful bickers, however, ring a different tone from your last remark. It’s almost as if Jungkook could read right through you. The tension, the distrust, and the discomfort, nothing has been the same since that particular moment. Sure, you had obviously been avoiding him because of your bashful nature and you’re sure that even he could tell from your abrupt movements, albeit his awareness of your reasons is more than likely nonexistent, but his relations to not only Jennie but to Jieun and his reluctance to disclose said relations has you boarding up walls once again. 

To be led on by a man would be the demise of your pride—the very last thing you’re holding onto; and whilst there was a moment in time when you thought two could play at such games, your heart has betrayed you and the tides have turned against your favor. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook begins firmly, “about that night—”

“—weren’t you looking for a friend?” you cut him off, pressing a thin smile as he glances at you with a raised brow. “What was her name again? Jennie?” 

The boy only stares at you for a silent ten seconds. Confusion and conflict flashes across his eyes until, finally, he settles for a helpless competence. “Yeah,” he utters, taking a step back and nodding, “I’ll see you around, then.” 

It was the dirtiest card you could pull. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean you’re in the right. It doesn’t mean you’re proud of it… but, sometimes, the best trump to win a futile game of tag is a refusal to play at all. 

This just happens to be one of those pivotal moments. 

Glancing at the remaining countdown on the washer and checking the clock on your phone, you almost laugh at the coincidental time plastered across the screen. 

11:11 A.M.

And you wish he never realizes that your refusal to play is, in fact, a confession of love.

-

his side;

“So do you like her or not?”

Unfazed by Jennie’s outburst, Jungkook simply answers, “what does that have to do with you losing your shit?”

“I am not,” she spits, pointing an accusing finger at him, “losing my shit.”

“Then why talk shit about me to Jieun?” 

Jennie pauses in her tracks, eyes lowering to the floor covered in Jungkook’s clothes. Her voice comes out meekly, “...she told you?” 

“No shit,” he remarks, catching the t-shirt he had lent Jennie as she hurls it at him. “Why do you hate me all of a sudden?”

“Does it matter if I hate you?” she rebuttals as she balls up another tee and tosses it at his face with a huff. The girl persists on her mission without a single glance at the boy towering beside her. “Do you even care what I think of you?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Her hands pause and she mutters, “don’t say that when you don’t mean it,” before continuing to sort through her pile of clothes intermixed with his.

“I don’t get it,” he runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Didn’t we both agree this would be a casual thing? You went on dates and I was okay with it—”

“—I didn’t!” she abruptly cuts herself off, scrunching his gray tee in her hands until her hands turn pale. “...I didn’t want you to be okay with it.” 

“Jennie…” Jungkook considers consoling her but she shifts her body away from him. “Sorry. I thought you were over this—”

“—I was over this!” she snaps, whirling around to reveal the scowl on her face as she hurls another sweater at him. “I was over us! And I was okay with you moving onto Jieun until one day, she comes to my front door and bawls her eyes out because you did a one-eighty just like you did with me. Is it because of her, Jungkook? Why does it always have to be her?” 

Jungkook says flatly, “Jieun and I were never dating,” 

“I said,” Jennie bites her tongue to repress her anger, “was. it. because. of. Y/N?”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Jennie when the boy remains silent with those unreadable eyes of his. Jungkook’s choice to protect her, however, only fuels the fire. He can’t choose to protect Y/N and expect Jennie to act as if nothing had happened between him and her; but when he finally answers...

“It isn’t Y/N’s fault. I should’ve figured things out beforehand. Sorry.”

...his reluctance to blame her scapegoat and willingness to assume accountability infuriates Jennie to a level she never knew she could harbor toward Jungkook. She knows she doesn’t deserve an apology and she knows Jungkook still felt slightly remorseful despite knowing full well that their relations were born of nothing but lust; and yet, it’s the only thing she craves that could quell the emerald fire within her. 

“And what about Jieun?” she speaks under her breath. “What about leading her on?”

“I fucked up. I know that,” he utters. “I apologized to her.”

“Whatever…” she sighs the remainder of tension pent up in her system as she stands to her feet and tosses the last gym shorts at his chest, eyes narrowing and lips downturning when she spots the irregular shade of his hoodie. 

“What?” the boy chuckles. “You think this looks shitty too? Remind me to burn this shit when I get home.”

“Did Y/N say it looks shitty?” Jennie asks, arching a brow. “Does she even like you?”

The grin on his face gradually blends into his usual illegible look of apathy as he states, “...no. Probably not.”

To which question he’s answering, Jennie would rather not ask. Instead, she places a hand on his chest, gently pushing him step by step in the direction of her bed with each following remark.

“Are you still with Jieun?”

Step. The answer is clear.

“Do you remember all the fun nights we’ve had?”

Step. He doesn’t answer.

“Does Y/N even like you?”

Step. Neither of them knew the answer. Finally, the back of his knees hit the bedframe and Jennie gently seats him to the ledge of her mattress where the two had spent many nights together in her long-coveted past. One hand on the mattress beside where he sits and the other hand pressed against his chest, Jennie stirs on. 

“You know, we could forget anything ever happened and return to the way things were before. I could forgive you, you could move on, I could wear your sweaters again, and you could spend your nights with me whenever you’re feeling down. We could be together, you and me,” she coos but something about her voice comes across as a plea. The unfazed beat of his heart beating against her hand almost has her clutching the sweater in self-pity. Her voice nearly cracks as she persists, “you know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

Not a second passes before Jungkook firmly shakes his head, peering his eyes up at the woman and speaking straight from his heart, “you’ve been a great friend and I don’t want to lose that, but I don’t feel the same. Sorry.” 

“You’re—” Jennie suddenly retracts her hand, standing upright and taking a step back with a constrained huff “—whatever. Have fun with her if that’s what makes you happy, but you’ll regret this.” 

Jungkook frowns as he helplessly watches the departure of a friend he had shared countless nights with, occasionally indulging in their beneficial relations and other times counting on her to bear his midnight blues. He might not have felt the spark that he experiences around Y/N, but Jennie had been his friend all along. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” Jennie shrugs without a single glance back at Jungkook, “anywhere away from you, really.” 

To sacrifice one friend in pursuit of someone whomst, from all he could tell, has no intentions of reciprocating similar convictions, he can’t help but feel as though everyone has abandoned him. The worst part of it is, he doesn’t know who else to blame but himself. 

Junghyun [11:55 A.M.] Yo you interested in a blind date? 

The boy rolls his eyes at his brother’s ill-timed proposition. 

You [11:55 A.M.] The fuck. No.

Junghyun [11:56 A.M.] Okay, I know you hate strangers, but TECHNICALLY this isn’t a blind date. Jieun wanted me to set up a dinner with you for her…

You [11:57 A.M.] ? 

You [11:59 A.M.] If she asked you this last week, then forget it. We aren’t a thing anymore.

Junghyun [12:00 P.M.] No, she begged me just yesterday. She said she wants to start over. 

Junghyun [12:00 P.M.] C’mon, just one dinner? 

Junghyun [12:01 P.M.] Just cause you messed things up with her, doesn’t mean you should mess up my friendship with her! >:(

Staring at the texts on his screen, Jungkook fiddles with his phone until finally falling backwards and collapsing onto the bed with a loud sigh. He can still remember the wrath painted across Jennie’s expression during her uproar and the pain he had inflicted upon Jieun when he confessed he had not intended to have led her on; but most predominantly, the evident discomfort on Y/N’s face when she had avoided him in the past month or when he had mentioned their shared moment of intimacy still stains his mind hours after. 

The mere thought of hurting her the same way he must have hurt Jennie and Jieun evokes more gnawing pain against his chest than he ever thought he would experience. Realizing that he would never hear a more explicit rejection to his confession has him lingering onto a hope that he has more than now recognized as fruitless.

Maybe a new start would be the best choice. 

Not only for him but for her, too. 

her side;

A dreadfully long hour has passed but your search for a certain something remains unceasing amidst a room filled of boredom—what that certain something is, however, you, yourself, would never hear the word of. Too deep into the workshop to leave, you roam around the room without a particular destination or goal in mind akin to a lost child swamped by a swarm of adults with ambition greater than yours. Familiar colleagues from workshop sessions outside of the small bubble that is yours are scattered throughout the cramped room, bustling about and acquiring the help of your supervisors. Some faces wear scowls as a subtle albeit inept form of protest against their already overflowed stack of responsibilities, whereas others glimmer with an edge of hunger for a potential although never-coming promotion in their eyes. 

The friend whomst you make sure to stick elbow-to-elbow with falls in the latter category, whilst you, on the other hand, remain distracted by the shrouded haze in your eyes; and as if peering through the opaque mist that is the crowd, your search trudges on for a familiar look of resilience masked by the impression of indifference that should have stood a stark contrast to the rising swarm of the dead that you like to describe as your colleagues. 

You aren’t exactly looking for something. After all, you had sought the company of your friend with the thought of extra cash in your mind, yet here you are now: unable to see clearly and focus obviously elsewhere and undetectable in this room.  

“Y/N?” Yezi interrupts her explanation to your own question to allure you back into reality. “Are you looking for something?”

“Huh?” you only manage to utter before frowning and shaking your head. “No, why?”

“Because you keep staring at the door,” Yezi responds to your unconvincing denial with a scoff, “but alright, if you say so.” 

You would never admit it even if you were on your deathbed, but who are you really kidding? Yezi could see right through you. In fact, you could see right through you. Maybe the discretion of your wandering eyes had initially been unbeknownst to you, but once every minute of your long passing days become a painful reminder of your eternal trek to retrieve your sanity into your own hands once again? The true whereabouts of your consciousness becomes evident. 

It isn’t something that you’re looking for, but rather, it’s someone… and once that someone comes striding into the door with his usual gym shorts and a bottle in hand, the fog clears along with the identity of that very someone. Your heart pounds to the beat of flutters that dust your insides as well as the pump of thrill that travels from your core, but the grand relief of your efforts to come here in the hopes of bumping into him having not been in vain are short-lived when your tunnel-like vision is accompanied by the woman beside him. 

“Oh,” Yezi pauses, eyes following your line of sight, “isn’t that your workshop partner, Jungkook? I thought you said he wasn’t coming to Q&A.”

“Well…” your voice withers by the second. “He didn’t tell me he was.” 

“Why’s he with someone else?” she quirks a brow at the odd pairing that neither you nor her had ever fathomed for an aloof man like Jungkook. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to attend with your partner?” 

She’s right. It would make more sense and it’s definitely a thought that had crossed your mind before you opted for a safer, more viable and less embarrassing option of inviting your friend instead. Jungkook has always been the type to unapologetically speak his mind so it occurred to you that if he really needed the help, he would have reached out to you, his partner, and not her… his friend whom you never knew he was even acquainted with. 

“Who’s she again?” you ask nonchalantly, glimpsing between the workshop packet at hand and the woman beside Jungkook. 

“You don’t know her? That’s Jennie,” Yezi snorts, blowing her bangs along with the roll of her eyes. “Quite pretty, isn’t she?”

The more your eyes flicker, the more you find yourself staring at the woman in silent awe. You’ve seen her around work before, but you never really had the chance to introduce yourself nor did you ever really want to; because even now, you’re scared of prolonging your ganders and comparing yourself to her undeniable beauty. 

Jungkook would be a foolish man not to recognize it himself, you realize with a weight settling in your chest, so it really shouldn’t be much of a surprise that the two are acquainted. You’ve never been the insecure type, but when you search for a possible reason behind his trust in Jennie over his trust in you, a daunting epiphany dawns upon you: maybe Jungkook has a thing for her. 

“...I guess,” you mutter with a shrug, quickly darting your eyes to focus on the packet of questions before you when you notice the pair making their way toward you. “Anyways, which number were we on?”

The indifferent front you put on is nothing but that, for the following hour consisted of you dragging your friend and shuffling into the opposite corner of the room each time you caught them approaching your direction. The unsettling twist of a sensation in your gut comes as an unexplained surprise to you, but the aching burden only doubles in magnitude with each moment you have to catch yourself glimpsing at the perfect pair from afar. 

Sometimes, you swear your flickering eyes must have locked with his for even the most fleeting of seconds and it only deepens the cut further. 

“Hey,” Yezi pauses, looking up at something behind you. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice utters behind you and you can’t help but freeze. 

For some reason, you decide to play it off as if you hadn’t heard a thing and somehow the problem would just disappear on its own. That, however, obviously goes badly when a firm finger taps on your shoulder. 

“What?” you finally snap, whirling around to face Jungkook. You might have put on the most apathetic look you could muster, but the bite of your tongue for having poorly greeted a man out of spite is almost as great as the surprise elicited by the empty spot beside his elbows. “Oh, you came?” 

“Yeah,” he answers, “how long have you been here?” 

“Pretty long.” Guilt builds with every second of silence shared between you two until it consumes you. “What about you?”

“Just got here not long ago.” 

Right, so he decides to leave the Jennie part out. 

After a few seconds of stagnant silence, you nodding your head and him staring blankly at you, he decides to prolong the conversation—a rarity for someone like him. 

“How long are you staying?” 

If he had come walking in today without anyone—or maybe even if it was someone other than her—you would have lied and stayed to capture an extra hour of interaction with him, but that just isn’t the case. Seeing how he’s only approaching you now once Jennie has left to whatever whereabouts, your heart of steel decides it’s unwilling to be the second option for tonight.  

“...uh, about to go,” you say, ignoring the arched brow of your friend’s. 

It’s a lie, but hopefully a harmless one at that. 

“Oh, ‘kay,” he prims, “could we share our resources afterwards?” 

You only realize it then. He’s only there when he needs to use you. Maybe it’s an overreaction and maybe you’re just insecure, but it doesn’t change the fact that every beacon of hope and every gesture you had suspected to be a reciprocation of your feelings have been nullified. If you were to survive the next months whilst working with a man like Jungkook, you know things would have to change. 

You would have to change. 

“Sure.” 

And nothing has been the same since. 

-

his side;

“Is something on your mind, Kook?”

The man turns around in bed to face the woman beside him before propping himself up, careful not to undrape the woman’s bare chest as the shared blanket falls from that of his own. Hair tousled and chest heaving from the thrilling high just minutes prior, his voice croaks after an hour long of lewd groans that once filled his room. 

“No,” he turns to meet his frown reflecting off the mirror across his bed, “why?”

“Well, you were kind of… submissive today,” she chuckles as she sits up beside him and starts to untangle his hair. “Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, as always, but I miss the assertive Kook.” 

Jungkook arches a brow at her, “yeah?”

A cocky grin spreads across his lips, as if to challenge her to try him, and an overjoyed giggle tumbles from her own as they edge each other on for another round when, suddenly, an alarm goes off on the nightstand beside his bed and his darkened orbs flicker back into reality. Eyes widening and arm reaching over for his phone, he stares and ponders at the screen with his head low and his gaze shrouded by bangs.

“Ugh, really? Is it that alarm again?” Jennie groans when Jungkook’s choice of silence is the only answer she retrieves. “Who even sets up an alarm to remind them to attend workshop?” 

Jungkook only chuckles, eyes still glued to the phone, “my partner, probably.”

“And you, too, apparently,” Jennie articulates.

“She’d kill me if I were late.”

And, he recalls, he did make a certain promise to her after all. 

“I thought you turned the alarm off an hour ago,” the woman clutches the blanket to her chest as she continues, “were you planning to go after… this...?”

 Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder, “are you not going?” 

“No, I don’t need to,” Jennie shrugs. “They’re not really helpful at all. If you want, you can ask me for help and I can always help you.” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, turning to stare at his phone once again, “but…”

Nothing ever follows through with the latter half of his sentence but having spent countless nights with Jungkook, Jennie is well acquainted enough to understand that not even Jungkook, himself, understood what he wanted to say. In fact, she would be the only to ever know exactly what kept him from accepting her offer on that very night. 

“Did your partner say she was going?” 

“No,” Jungkook pauses before adding, “but I know she will.” 

Half the time the two spent together are more often spent in silence than not, whereas the other half of the time is occupied by salacious sayings and wanton activities that had one blushing in the morning and the other coming back for more. This moment in time follows the steps of the former. 

“So you’re going, aren’t you?”

Flipping his phone in his hands, Jungkook contemplates with the sight of 6:00 P.M. glaring from his screen. Y/N must have gone at the stroke of 5:00 P.M., so even if he were to go now and search for her help, she would have either been well on her way home or found him too burdensome to lend a helping hand. 

After another second of silence, Jennie finally sighs, “I’ll go with you.”  

Jungkook raises a brow at Jennie’s proposal, despite the genuine relief that washes over him. The rare sight of a caught off guard Jungkook is enough to flip the frown of the girl Jennie spots in the reflection of his doe-like eyes; and even though Jungkook has no clue of the implications behind his odd sense of obligations, it’s in that moment that Jennie realizes the night of her dreams would not be so easy to acquire from a man like Jungkook after all. 

For some reason, something about the obligation that stirs in Jungkook’s chest only tugs at his already quickened pace, as if his very entity is drawn to a magnetic force somewhere within the depths of his company’s building; and when he finally bursts through the doors, it comes to his surprise to find the reason behind an extension of relief in his weighted chest. 

Because there his partner stands in the middle of the room, and whether by fate or happenstance, she is the first one his eyes land on in the swarm of dozens. 

Jungkook has never been the type to stutter or hesitate, so it only confuses him further when he contemplates between two choices: either he stays in the room with Jennie and pretends he never saw Y/N in the first place or he awkwardly greets her and her friend even though he really has no reason to. Seeing how Y/N had not met his gaze since he walked in, the latter choice seems to be the safer one. 

At the end of the day, it really isn’t up to Jungkook when Jennie drags him around the room to find her fellow colleagues who specialized in the areas of difficulty Jungkook needed help on. For a man who has never been too active at work, however, it takes his every ounce of attention to keep up with the two hours worth of information crammed into a half hour flood of a spiel. Despite catching her eyes from across the room and chuckling softly to himself over how quickly she looks away, having not crossed paths with Y/N even once during the entire ordeal doesn’t register until Jennie’s phone rings and Jungkook can finally catch his breath. 

“You have any other questions?” Jennie peers up from her phone. 

“No,” he answers plainly, “why?”

“Okay, good,” she resumes texting on her phone, “let’s go then.”

Jungkook leans slightly forward, as if he had heard her wrong, “now?”

“Yeah,” she looks up once again at Jungkook. 

Eyes darting between the clock displayed at the front of the room and his partner that stands before it, Jungkook barely catches Jennie frowning at him in disappointment… why exactly, he could not for the life of him figure it out. 

“Actually,” Jungkook mutters, “I’ll stay for half an hour more.”

“Why?” she presses, brows furrowing. “I have to go now.” 

As much as Jennie’s sudden urgency surprises Jungkook, he remains visually unaffected. “You can go first.” 

“I,” Jennie scoffs, flabbergasted, “I have a date, Jungkook.” 

The world continues buzzing around them but neither could hear a thing. A tense silence is exchanged between the two. Jennie’s glare burns with a desperate plea and Jungkook’s gaze reflects nothing but utter confusion. 

“Okay, have fun,” Jungkook finally answers. “Thanks for your help.”

“...yeah,” Jennie meekly answers after what seems to be an eternity, turning around and mumbling, “good luck.” 

Something about the way her eyes softened with defeat and strided out the door without the usual persistence he knew of Jennie strikes him with guilt. Is she upset with him? Did he do something wrong? But Jungkook being Jungkook, he figures that would be a matter to deal with in the future, for the clock is ticking and his only reason to stay remains at the front of the room. 

“Hey,” he hears Y/N’s friend whispering as he approaches the familiar back of his partner. 

Seeing as she remains affixed with her back on him, Jungkook calls out, “Y/N.” 

That, however, doesn’t seem to be enough for his partner who not only seems to have a bad eyesight but a bad hearing as well. This time, he pokes her in the shoulder. 

“What?” she snaps, finally turning around to face him. “Oh, you came?” 

Is every girl in a bad mood today? Jungkook can only wonder. 

“Yeah,” he answers, “how long have you been here?” 

“Pretty long.” Jungkook waits for her to continue. “What about you?”

So all those times when he thought his eyes had met hers are just his imagination? 

“Just got here not long ago.” 

Y/N only nods her head, to which Jungkook finds odd for someone as talkative and giggly as her. Maybe she’s tired… or maybe he really is a hindrance to her like he had feared. 

“How long are you staying?” Jungkook tries once more, secretly hoping maybe he wouldn’t be left here alone. 

“...uh, about to go.” 

“Oh—” he ignores whatever that drop in his chest means “—’kay, could we share our resources afterwards?” 

It’s a rarity for Jungkook to give any shits about what others thought of him, unless they were someone he actually cared for. Work is work. If he had to be an annoying piece of shit to get that paycheck, then he’s more than willing to be that annoying shithead… but when it comes to Y/N? For some reason, being a burden to her is the last thing he wants to do, yet at this point, the burden he places on her seems to be the only thing retaining their connection. 

“Sure.” 

At this very moment, Jungkook would have never foreseen the future that would divide the path between himself and the woman before him, but when the time comes and he reflects in retrospect, one thing’s for sure. 

her side; 

Jungkook [9:23 A.M.] Happy Birthday!!

You can still recall every fluctuation in the mayhem that he always brought along, particularly on that very hour of your day. A beacon of light had peeked through your curtains and perfectly struck your already-squinting eyes, but it isn’t the sun that has your heart racing like the end of a marathon that marks the start of your special day—rather, it’s the aftermath of its gentle shake that engraves this particular moment amongst the myriad of otherwise mundane, forgetful birthday mornings. 

It’s an overly cliche scene straight out of those young adult rom-coms you used to roll your eyes at, yet even you couldn’t remain immune to the flutters of your stomach and the drums of your chest when you awaken to the sight of his name first thing in the morning. You won’t admit it now, but the undeniable stretch of your grin upon reading his message is enough proof to your prideful self that he still manages to evoke an emotional response from you—even after all this time. 

A relieved sigh escapes your restricted chest as you prop yourself against the bed frame and dally with the unexpected task at hand. Flipping your phone from palm to palm, you mull over just how blindsided you had been to this incoming text. You had been arranging dinner plans for a girl’s night out in preparation for the one day you get to celebrate your ever-so-slow descent into adulthood and eventual retirement that you hadn’t even paused to anticipate this year’s annual texts from colleagues and classmates you had not heard from since… your last birthday; and even though Jungkook doesn’t exactly fall into that category, for you two had really only connected half a year ago, he was the last person you would have expected to be reminded of today. 

Come to think of it, it’s been a while since your mind had stumbled upon the ephemeral memories shared with him, a while since you caught him staring at you in the corner of your eyes, a while since you fidgeted with your hand and contemplated your choices of fight or flight. Ever since your project had ended and your excuses to strike a conversation with your partner dwindled to zero, you had convinced yourself that fate had finally given up on you and is now punishing you for leaving the myriad of granted opportunities to wilt; because you still bumped into him at work from time to time—but after that particular night of a gut-wrenching revelation, your ultimate decision to cut your ties came abruptly. 

It was no easy feat, that’s for sure. After having reality slammed before your eyes and accepting that maybe this red string that tied you to him is nothing but a silly fantasy, you had to somehow train yourself to forget everything you’ve come to know in the span of a month. You avoided him at work and on the walk home, you adjusted your daily routine to ensure your paths never crossed with his, you even archived his messages that you once found yourself daydreaming over the endless possibilities now burnt to ashes, until slowly but not certainly, he had become an afterthought.

Yet here he is, just as you’re about to forget him, like an old habit that trickles its way back into your daily routine, you find yourself smiling at the thought of him once again… and after all that has come to light? To be the first person to send you birthday wishes? You can’t help but snort at yourself and him, shaking your head at the naive skips of your heart and the audacity of a man who just doesn’t understand the repercussions of his alluring charm. 

Because even if you could no longer feel the same way about him like you did in a fleeting fragment of the past, you would never be able to deny this attractive force of his. He’s different from the others. He’s quiet, aloof, and intimidating, but his reputation can’t hold a candle to the real Jungkook you know. He’s more than the apathetic look he wears more often than not and he’s gentler than the devilish smirk that he adorns when he had witnessed something less than worthy of an arduous, feigned laugh, because the crinkle of his nose when you finally manage to crack a toothy grin on that face is worth every bit of intimidation. 

He doesn’t give a shit about what others thought of him because he sticks to his virtues and he treats every guy and gal—lame or popular, average or gorgeous—equally. He says he doesn’t give a shit about the opinions of others’, but he takes careful consideration into the delicate response of those affected by his actions. He does what he does because he believes in doing the right thing and not because he wants those extra points that has you believing in chivalry again. 

And all of that still holds true, that is, if the motives you suspect behind his text proves false. 

It’s a good thing your birthday came well after you had mostly gotten over whatever thing you had for him—otherwise, you’re sure things would have gone awfully awry today had you not been. You would have been clinging onto that last bit of hope and wondering what it means for him to have remembered your birthday and even go through the effort of sending you a message after all this time apart, but now, knowing what you know about him, you hold your head high with a smile hiding more than he could have ever had. 

Two can play at this game. 

You [10:12 A.M.] Thanks!! 😊

And for once, it really doesn’t mean anything more than that. 

-

his side; 

Notification [9:18 A.M.] Y/N’s birthday is today! 

Jungkook had just finished downing his first bottle of today’s many, hoping that his favorite drink, also known as water, would be enough to dilute the distasteful coffee he had willingly subjected himself to soon, when his phone vibrates against the kitchen island. The boy had leaned over the counter and grabbed ahold of his phone fully expecting to internally roll his eyes at social media and its pesky birthday reminders of people he doesn’t know well enough to just casually drop a wish for, but the familiar name that pops onto his screen freezes him in his tracks. 

It doesn’t occur to Jungkook how long it’s been since Y/N’s name had taken residence at the top of his notifications. A crooked grin cracks his precedent frown as he recalls the persistent messages Y/N had once bombarded him with in their time together. He can still remember the click of his tongue as he indulged in his cathartic workouts only to be disturbed by the seemingly endless stream of texts and reminders of work. Who would’ve known those memories would be revisited with a tender fondness that has even Jungkook dumbfounded? 

It isn’t like he totally forgot about Y/N. After all, out of everyone he’s met at work, she’s been the most peculiar one by far. Although their time was short, the fidgety hands, wavering eyes, and curt responses intertwined with the most giggly of laughs, she always kept him on the edge of his seat, wondering just what was going on in that mind of her’s—particularly when he came into work that one day and nothing was ever the same. 

Because some days he would spot her from the top of the stairs and try to greet her from afar only to watch her pivot on the balls of her feet and shuffle in the opposite direction. Sometimes he would bump into her on the way to their cubicles in the morning only to find himself searching for the girl in the following days turned into weeks and months, even. At times, he would even lock eyes with the girl across the hall, waiting for a response and wondering if he had mistaken himself when she passed by without a single greeting. 

Sometimes he felt like a ghost, not to the colleagues, not to the world, but to her. He couldn’t quite put the unsettling drop in his chest into words—because it isn’t exactly disappointment nor dejection. It was almost as if she had awoken one day, swept by the winds and the mystical moon, and for whatever reason, decided to sink a ship that had long set sail. 

But as Jungkook has come to learn, time flies by quickly, even for a man like himself; because whatever he was feeling, the heightened consideration catered toward her, the amusement he found in whatever she had in the works, the profuse feeling that something was fueling the two and something was inevitably bound to manifest, and the crash of confusion when it all came to an abrupt stop, had faded with each passing week. 

Still, even the sight of her name brings a grin to his lips. 

Seeing as how Y/N had shot him a birthday wish last time—and being the first and few ones to remember, at that—Jungkook figures it would be rude of him to swipe the notification into the abyss, even if the two had an unexplained, rocky interlude up to this point. 

Draft [9:22 A.M.] Happy Birthday

Jungkook cocks his head at the blunt message. Short and to the point, it’s a message he would have sent any other colleague… but seeing the fond birthday wish and gratitude the two had shared just a scroll above his drafts, he finds himself scratching at the task before him. 

“Jungkook?” a familiar voice calls from outside his apartment door. “Are you in there? You ready?”

“What? Oh, shit,” he curses when he notices the time on his phone. “Yeah, give me one second!”

You [9:23 A.M.] Happy Birthday!!

The phone is tossed to the side as Jungkook dashes to open the door to a girl who stands before him with a pout and crossed arms. Peering down at his partner, the chuckle that leaves his lips depart along with the thought of what he had left behind. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our coffee date,” she mutters. 

“And what if I did?” he laughs, freezing when he locks the door behind him. “Oh, shit.”

“What? Did you forget something?”

“Oh, uh,” he pauses, contemplating, “it’s nothing. Let’s go.”

He may have forgotten his phone, he may have forgotten having sent a message to someone he no longer held any ties to, but when he returns to the apartment and checks to see a heart next to his message and a reply right under, he would never forget the thought that crosses him in that very moment.