Kissing Lessons (jikook)

18: "I need to tell you something, Jimin."

The light rain continued. Jungkook turned onto his other side. He was trying to go to sleep early, even though he'd slept half the day. He didn't have much to do other than that. His parents had to leave again in the morning, so they were too busy getting their things packed to pay much attention to their son. His mother still had his phone, despite it.

Even with his phone, though, Jungkook would probably only read the messages between him and Jimin, or wait for his call, or stare at the photo he wanted to see one more time before he had to tap "delete forever". He didn't like it. He didn't like fighting with his best friend, but he couldn't take how Jimin closed himself off like that. Jimin would need to be the one to say sorry, or he wouldn't get any better. It'd just go on in a cycle like that. And Jungkook couldn't put up with that cycle forever.

He breathed. Something he'd been doing all day, but something he was getting sick of hearing. Jungkook was a happy person, not depressed in the slightest. He would never even think of dying intentionally, let alone go through with it. Lately he'd just been going through some kind of slump. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. He barely wanted to speak to his parents, he avoided his friends, he ignored girls. To that, there'd been only two exceptions: Yuri, the one he'd spent effort on; and the other, the one he didn't have to.

Jungkook rolled over onto his stomach and pushed his face against his mattress. What was he even doing with Yuri? He didn't like her. She was attractive, but when she opened her mouth it was like talking to a twelve-year-old pot dealer, and Jungkook only ever liked mature girls.

The restless male rolled onto his back now, his blanket wrapped around him, snug. He knew what he was doing with her, but he really knew it wasn't right of him. He didn't want to admit his intentions behind it. Not out loud, not in his mind, not anywhere. It took him up to then to realize that what he did with Yuri was no different than what he'd done with all the other girls he'd talked to. Everything he'd done was far worse than leading them on. The dissolute things he did, the methods he had, the goals he set. It was those goals mainly that made him such an asshole.

Those goals: getting the girl to fall for him; stealing her from her boyfriend; sleeping with her; all of them varied and all of them were bad. Jungkook was accomplished. For every goal he set, there was not one that wasn't met. And once he accomplished those goals, what more was there for him to do? He got bored. The girl got dumped. Another goal was set, and when a goal was set, Jungkook would not stop until it was met. There was a flaw with his system now, however. With the goal he had set for Yuri, he'd be stuck with her forever. With that goal, he'd be reaching for something he couldn't see, something that didn't even exist. That one, single goal would taunt him for the rest of his life.

Because there was no way he was getting over Jimin.

The rain stopped. Jungkook unwrapped himself from the blanket to the point he had his face pushed against the mattress again. "Stupid meteorologists. Can't even predict the weather right," he grumbled, just to have something to grumble. They'd said heavy rain. Jungkook wished it were heavy rain. The sound made him sleep better and the mood was right for it.

He wished he could cry, too. The regret he wanted to express was built up inside and he had no way of releasing it. Crying for Jimin to stay two days ago had taken too much out of him. Jimin was lucky. He could cry whenever he felt sad. Maybe, in the older's eyes, that wasn't a lucky thing at all. Maybe Jimin would never know what it was like to not be able to cry.

Jungkook turned onto his side once more, one last time. It had to have been five minutes before the sleep he desired began to take him finally. He desired that sleep, but something he desired twice, three times, four times as much was standing outside his window now, tapping softly on the glass. He ignored it at first. It was just in his head.