Love Story Short | Jikook/Kookmin

Chapter 17

There goes a handful of happiness, instantly ruined by memories that were mistaken for promises. Jungkook relates, to his dismay. He gets mistaken for being the one who got away, but the truth is, he is always the one who gets carried away. They might have more in common with Yoongi than he thinks.

"That's something," he shrugs. It's barely a hint. It's assuming Hoseok was telling the truth, once again, trusting a liar's word.

"I'll find him," Yoongi taps his shoulder with a spurt of energy. He leaves Jungkook to ponder, advancing up the stairs and merging with the tourists crowding the outlook balcony in Jungkook's near line of sight.

Namjoon was right afterall. It was a quick climb.

He should go, join Yoongi. Take a glimpse of this famous view that apparently makes you fall in love with Italy and life all over again.

He bites at his bottom lip, scanning through the crowd still behind him. Three Koreans from their group pass by. Restlessness eats away at his insides as he gulps some water, keeping his eyes open in case he spots what he is looking for. Over the outlook balcony camera flashes go off, tempting him to join. But he can't. His legs won't work, conscience won't give him a break.

Finally, Jimin makes an appearance through the corner of the staircase. A big breath leaves Jungkook, air finally passing through his lungs. Cheeks puffed, failing at being invisible, he keeps his gaze steady on Jimin, and immediately notices signs of discomfort.

Hand on his back.

Lips pressed into a tight line.

Slow steps.

He is enduring.

Something is definitely up with his back.

Jungkook throws his head back, trying to settle his inner battle. Stars fill his vision. They blink kindly. They remind him of Jimin's eyes. A gust of emotions rushes over, hopping his heart to his throat painfully.

He is letting it get to him. He can't let it get to him.

He turns on his heels and stomps his way up to the lookout.

Guilty of him for caring. He shouldn't have let Jimin sit next to him in the ferry, or answered his questions, or stopped to check. It's just dumb actions for an empty sentiment lingering between them due to forceful togetherness in the same space. It means nothing.

They might be here now, but South Korea wasn't just a nightmare. It was very real, everything that happened was real. It's scary how real and recent it was. It's scary to think of going back to it. Walking to the office in that murky street, tears clouding his eyes, his heart sinking in that alley, running like an eighteen-year-old version of himself, same fears, same disappointments, packing a bag, booking a quick flight, holding onto Yoongi like a lifeboat because he couldn't imagine being left home alone with his deafening, drowning, despicable thoughts — that was reality.

Are you not ashamed to end up where you were five whole years ago? Those thoughts were reality.

Jungkook is scared of how ruthless he has become. To himself, most of everyone. He thought he loved himself. He thought he had healed. He thought he was okay.

His feet come to a stop, hands clasp the railing. Wind flies through his hair. It makes it hard to see initially. But then, eventually, everything comes to view.

People were right. Venezza has a striking view. All the coastal lights, the remnants of a cliff that was a castle that became a city, its entire history sitting right before his eyes. It could make someone fall in love with life all over again. Someone who is at peace with it, perhaps. Because in this moment, the world is small enough to fit in the palm of Jungkook's hands, yet Jungkook feels nothing but emptiness.