CHARADES (Namjin.)

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE.

Jungkook.

Treading lightly through the living room, I make my way to the glass staircase, forcing my legs up the steps. I am surprised they even let me in the house after everything today; I half expected Seokjin to have my luggage waiting at the door, I wouldn't have blamed him, not after everything I have done.

I don't think I have fully comprehended the events of today, I don't think I have wholly internalized the magnitude of everything going on, which is why I am still able to walk around, to breath the way I am doing. I don't know if it's fear that has made me detached, or I just haven't had time to process all of it, but regardless I know the weight of everything is yet to hit me, and when it does I don't think I'll be able to survive it.

Hoseok is in the hospital, out of danger but still hospitalized in the same. He looked to be in so much pain when he woke up, and it broke me apart to see him hurting so badly, but what hurt even more was the fear and the pain in his eyes when he saw me. He had instantly gone into a panic attack, the monitors beside him had beeped rapidly, and in the end they had had to sedate him again, and to send me away. I only caused him pain, so much agony, it was evident in his face, in the way numerous emotions had flicked on his eyes, and I understand why he would want to be away from me.

I let him be by myself, let him struggle with the aftermath of our wrongdoings, let him bear the most weight of it. When he told me two days ago that he was pregnant, I still can't explain what my thought process was like. I just remember being confused, dumbfounded. Other than being caught on the affair that we were ending, he was pregnant too, he was carrying my child, he told me so, and I just...I just wanted the world to swallow me whole, I wanted to vanish, to just go back and do it right.

I have always wanted a child, always thought a kid would be the most precious thing to me, but I've always imagined myself with Jin, my children with him, so when Hoseok told me about the baby we had made, it was just a ball of self confliction, accompanied by self loath and desperation. I didn't know what to do, or even where to begin. I just ran, and when I came back to my senses, when I tried to man up -talk to Jin and tell him, so I could figure out a way from there, it was already too late.

He must have probably thought I abandoned him, he must have thought I left him by himself, that I didn't want him or the child, and it must have driven him over the edge. I swear it on my life that I was gonna take responsibility, I was gonna man up, and own up after myself like he had told me too. He was having my baby and I wasn't gonna let that slide under the rug, or him for that matter. I had taken too much from him to leave him, we had dug too deep of a hole to walk out of. I had just realized my feelings for him, I had just gotten the clear picture of him and me, and I was gonna do the right thing, yet this happened.

I deserved it, I deserve all the pain that is bound to befall me, I deserve every bad thing that is coming my way. I don't deserve Hoseok, or anything from him. I didn't deserve that baby, or his pure soul that I took. I don't deserve any good thing. I am a terrible person, quite frankly I don't know who I am.

I should probably steer clear of Seokjin's path at this time, especially after everything that has taken place these past few days, but I know the more I put this off, the more trouble and more pain I would be causing him. He must not want to see me right now, but I know I need to give him answers, to set him free from his suffering, it's the least I could do.

The door to our bedroom is unlocked, the two lamps on each side of the bed the only thing illuminating the room. It's eerily quiet, deserted, and for the first time in a while I realise our absence in this room. It's so full, yet so strangely empty, just another space, not how a bedroom should be like. There are no fond memories of us in here that I vividly remember, there are no favourite spots or favourite things, no particular attachment, or any strong sense of belonging or dependence. I don't know when I stopped seeing it as my room, don't know when I started regarding another as mine, but it's clear to me that this isn't what a couple's intimate space should look like. It shouldn't feel this way either.