happy (early) birthday our beloved starshine nugget! i hope you have the most fabulous birthday ever ♡
as for the bday fic.. *nudges you gently to a dark alley*
jumin. classic enemies to lovers. it's just pure heated anger. obliterates everyone within the vicinity. but while they are throwing comebacks at eachother, they cant help but think about holding them, having them. pining. LOTS OF HEART WRENCHING PINING.
HELLO DEAR — *is nudged into da dark alley* ouo… *listens to yo idea* … O U O
OKIE BUT LIKE. I’m totally twisting this a bit, like: enemies to lovers to enemies >w>
I think I have some leftover pent-up anger to make this!!
The honeymoon period in any relationship lasts three months. Six if you were lucky.
After that time has passed, you’ll begin to see, smell, and experience things about your partner that begin to make you wonder why.
Why you chose them, why you didn’t see these things before, why it took you so long to understand what you would have to deal with for the rest.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love Jumin. No, you loved him a great deal. You were just tired. Tired of his sideways glances when you’d laugh too loud at a company dinner — tired of how he gradually took control of your wardrobe, making you wear longer dresses with pinned hats — tired of how dismissive he seemed every time you went to show him something you’d made, or shoot him a silly video.
You could hear his voice in your mind. You could hear the disinterest because he didn’t try to hide it anymore. It was like he was bored of you.
And you were bored of him.
Dinners would consist of Jumin’s utensils scraping against ceramic plates — a sound you detested — and you noisily sucking your wine glass while you drank — an act that clearly annoyed him. You knew it, too; as soon as you heard the heel of his foot slamming repetitively against the tile, you knew you had gotten to him.
He wouldn’t say anything to you, though. Nor would you say anything to him. Why bother? Active communication turned into rigid expectations, something both of you failed at horribly.
Things has gotten so tense that, eventually, you had a difficult time being around Jumin all together. His quiet, judging eyes following you around the room, jaw clenching when he saw something you were doing that he didn’t like…
And you, trying your damndest to ignore him and go about your day, purposely finding ways to piss him off.
You decided to pick up extra shifts at work. That was a good start; if he asked where you were or what you were doing, you would simply say that you were at work. Just as he would say to you with no other detail.
And you were satisfied for some time, coming home to the lights off and a quietly snoring Jumin in the guest bedroom. You’d even make a game of it; whoever arrived home the latest, lost.
At what, you didn’t know. You didn’t care.
But maybe it would give you the courage to leave.
All the nights he didn’t stay up waiting for you would only confirm his lacking interest. An unfair judgement, but one you would make anyway.
Slipping your winter coat on, you trudged your way to work. A solid eight hours awaited you, followed by another hour or four at your contracting job. The work was exhausting, sure… but it wasn’t as exhausting as being around Jumin.
You went about your day without a care, happily assisting customers and even walking with a pep in your step. Your eyes occasionally fell to your watch, that you could keep track of both your schedule and Jumin’s.
17:30. He was done for the day. But maybe he was still at the office. Maybe he was catching a late meeting. Maybe he was following in his father’s footsteps and screwing another woman.
It didn’t matter. You didn’t care.
Shuffling your way to your next job, you ignored the dull pain in your chest from the slight overexertion.
Maybe staying at a hotel tonight wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
The thought amused you. It wasn’t a bad idea, the more you thought about it. Actually… you had your own savings account with money you had personally earned stashed inside. Maybe you could look into moving out.
While the idea danced in your mind, your gut felt otherwise. Churning uncomfortably, to the point of endless nausea, you left work much earlier than expected of you.
Walking along the snow-kisses sidewalk, your thoughts wandered. Except now, these thoughts were hopeful. Hopeful, yet… strangely unsettling.
Arriving at the landing of the building you and Jumin shared, - the word home having no meaning anymore - you moved into the elevator and pushed the button taking you up to the most luxurious hell you had ever known.
Your mind began to wander as you mindlessly made your way home. Truthfully, you already had a small bag packed and hidden away in your personal closet. The last thing you needed was for Jumin to ask questions. Getting the bigger things would be a challenge, but —
Stopping in your tracks, you turned to see your husband. He looked as exhausted as you felt; from where you stood, it looked like he had at least ten new creased lines on his face. He sat as elegantly as ever, one leg crossed over the other, but you noticed his foot shaking. Why was he so jittery.
“Work,” you answered, throwing your coat over the kitchen island. “Good night.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
As soon as Jumin rose to his feet, your heart fell. Was he about to ask you for a divorce now? Was it time for you to put your plan of moving out into motion? Why did it make you feel so vulnerable?
Fingers running over your wedding ring, teasing it back and forth over your finger, you held your breath as Jumin approached you.
He didn’t stand too close, but you could still smell his faint cologne — sandalwood and lavender.
“What do you want?” You asked, hugging yourself defensively.
“I haven’t seen you in days. And you expect me to believe that you’ve only been at work?”
“Yeah?” You scoffed. “Look, what ever you’re trying to say, can you spit it out now? I’m tired.”
“Explain to me, then, why you’re at work more than you’re at home.”
“Because I have two jobs, and both of them require my attention.”
“And I don’t?” Jumin’s voice rose. Just slightly.
“You haven’t asked. I’m not a mind reader.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Besides. Why do you expect from me what you refuse to offer?”
“How can I offer you anything when you aren’t here.”
Your brows shot up. Oh, he sounded impatient now. “Well? I’m here now, so if you have nothing to offer within the next three minutes, I’m going to sleep.”
“What has happened to you.”
You tilted your head. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not repeating myself. You heard me.”
Your laugh agitated him. “You have a lot of nerve. Have you ever considered that you might be the problem?”
Jumin leaned forward. “The problem?”
“I’m not repeating myself, you heard me.”
“Well, what do you want me to tell you, Jumin? Do you want me to agree that I’m the problem, is that what you want? Okay! Fine. I’m the problem. I’ve always been the problem. I’m the sole reason why our marriage is dangling by a thread. It’s all because of me. There. Are we done?”
Turning from Jumin, you felt yourself getting dizzy, the rush of confrontation getting to your head. The dizziness worsened when your husband grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him.
“Don’t walk away from me. We aren’t done.”
Yanking your arm away from his grip, it took every ounce of strength in you to keep your hands to yourself. “What, was that not enough for you?”
“Listen to me,” Jumin seethed, his fingers throbbing, remembering the brief sensation of your skin against his. “It’s no secret. Our relationship has taken a massive shift in the wrong direction. I’ve noticed it, too.”
You shook your head. “Right, and accusing me of cheating is the first step in the right direction.”
“Neither are your smart ass comments.”
“Am I wrong? Did you not just accuse me of doing just that? For all I know, you’re giving it to some intern in a vacant boardroom. Like father, like son.”
The silence that lingered after your careless comment was so palpable that it made you uncomfortable. Yikes… you may have crossed a line, here.
“You’ve turned into the most cynical, heartless woman I’ve ever known.” Jumin’s voice was steady - he meant every word. “You were right. You aren’t cut out for this life, a life with me. I wish I had listened to the source.”
You looked away, fighting the tears in your eyes. His words hurt you deeply. “I’ll leave. No problem. But before I do?” You stepped closer, knees shaking. “These last few months have been a nightmare. I’m happier with the scrutinizing eyes of my parents than the dead-eyed look you give me.”
Jumin’s brows furrowed. “Pardon?”
“You look at me like I disgust you. Like I’ve run my course with you, like you have no other way to utilize me. Ever since I got my first job, you stopped caring about whether I was coming or going. Well, you don’t have to worry about it anymore, Jumin! I’m going.”
“What will you take, this sorry piece of luggage?” Tossing your bag - the bag you had skillfully hidden away - to the floor, Jumin nudged it disdainfully. “I thought you’d be more resourceful than this.”
You pursed your lips angrily, staring at the sorry knapsack by Jumin’s feet.
“If I was being such a horrible husband, ignoring you and shunning you, why didn’t you say anything. Why did you allow it to fester, woman.”
“Because I couldn’t talk to you, asshole. You were always too busy with work. What was I supposed to do, ring you up and rant to you over the phone?”
Jumin’s booming response surprised you. It even seemed to surprise him.
“Right, so I should have done everything I could have done to fix our relationship. Why was it all on me?!”
“Did I say that? Besides. My efforts to reconnect with you were clearly ignored. The nights I stayed awake waiting for you to come home so I could talk to you. The meetings I canceled, the connections I ignored —”
“I never asked you to give any of your time up!!”
“Didn’t you just do that?”
“Screw this.” Throwing your hands in the air, you grabbed the bag on the floor. “I’ll have all my shit out by the end of the week.”
“Cynical, heartless, and a coward. Fitting.”
Rage blinded you. You spun around, your open hand almost connecting to Jumin’s cheek. He grabbed your wrist before you could make contact, pinning you against the wall behind you. An unmistakable fire raged within his eyes, one you saw up close and personally.
Your ragged breathing gradually matched with his. It was the first time you had been this close to him in…
Jumin noticed the dawning realization in your eyes; the fire within him dimmed, leaving traces of compassion and adoration.
Looking away from him, you tried to pull your hand back. Jumin wouldn’t allow it, gripping your wrist a little tighter.
“Your wedding ring is still on your finger.”
You paused. “Yeah… yeah, it is. And so is yours.”
A beat passed. Jumin’s lips brushed over your forehead; a simple form of intimacy. But one you craved immensely. Lifting your head, butterflies crashed against your stomach. He was looking directly at you.
“You’re right.” Jumin’s grip on your wrist loosened. “I haven’t been as attentive to you, or your needs. I’ve… been taking advantage of you. You were always there, until you weren’t. And when you weren’t, I grew very insecure. So insecure that I accused you of the greatest sin between married couples.
You closed your eyes slowly. Tears spilled out of your control; the dam you held inside was cracking open. “I got careless, too. I was so afraid of approaching you, and I was so frustrated that you couldn’t read my mind, so ignored you and your good heart, Jumin. I had forgotten just how gracious and good you are.”
Jumin tilted your chin up, his fingers catching the tears coursing down your cheek and off your chin. His pull irresistible, you leaned into him as he timidly pressed his lips to your cheeks.
“Please,” you whispered. “Please don’t kiss me unless you love me, Jumin… don’t play any games with me…”
And after a pause that lasted a lifetime… Jumin pulled back.
