Vice | j.jk ✔️

forty: the whole truth

I needed to leave. It was humiliating living with him. He pretended to care for me and he led me on because he pitied me? To think I sought comfort in him. I was so frustrated with myself for still not meaning it when I told him I hated him. I didn't hate him, even after everything. It felt like I was betraying myself.

I started to angrily pack my clothing into their bags, huffing and puffing. I was scared to leave, knowing that Yoongi might be looking for me. Maybe Taehyung told Yoongi about my whereabouts and he was waiting outside for me. Despite all that, I was going to leave. I was too far into the action to not complete it. The dangers of pride or maybe stubbornness.

I was almost done shoving my things into the suitcase when my door creaked open and Jungkook was standing there, releasing a sigh.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I looked at him angrily. "I'm going back home,"

"Aira-"

"I know, I know. Yoongi is waiting somewhere for me to do something stupid so he can snatch me away," I said before he could say anything.

He stepped into the room and firmly gripped my hands to stop them from zipping the suitcase up. His touch sent a ripple of chills throughout my body and as much as my brain was telling me to rip away from his grasp, I didn't.

"Stop," he said, staring at me.

"It's all too much," I said, voice weak. "I still don't understand anything and you won't tell me the full story,"

Jungkook's jaw twitched and his eyes hardened. "Look, the details don't matter-"

"But they do," I said, looking in his eyes. "You can't just keep me in the dark and expect me to abide with everything you tell me to,"

"It's a lot to take in," he sighed, releasing my hands and running a hand through his dark hair.

"I can handle it." I insisted.

He turned his head away, seeming set on not telling me anything. I tugged at the fabric of his clothing. "Jungkook, please."

He stood there for a moment, contemplating if he should tell me. Then, he finally nodded. "Alright, sit down,"

I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to begin telling me. He opened his mouth to speak but the loud ring of his phone ripped the words right out before they could make a sound. My shoulders dropped in frustration as he answered the call.

"Now?" He questioned and then listened to the person on the other line speak. Finally, he hummed affirmatively and hung up.

He has to go.

"Emergency at work," he said, starting to rush to the door.

I followed him to the main door as he put on his coat. Before he exited, he took a look at me. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow," he said.

I nodded, obviously disappointed.

"And, Aira," he began to say, voice a little softer.

I looked at him questioningly.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier," he said, followed by one last look at me before he exited.