Beneath the surface [BTS JIMIN FF]

33

Days have passed, and I haven't heard from him. I did open up the little message window a few times, and more than once, the little dots showed, signifying that he's typing, but nothing ever came.

I know I asked for time, and I know he's trying to give it to me, but I am kind of disappointed that he didn't break that promise. I wish he had called. But then again, I did it to myself.

I want him close and far away at the same time.
He hurt me, badly, and I wanted him as far away as possible to have time to think, but I want him to hold me and comfort me, because even though he hurt me, he can heal me better than anyone ever could.

Sometimes, it sucks to be in love.

But the worst is over.

I cried it out. He did, too. I had time to think, and no matter what went through my mind, I don't want to lose him.

That feeling when his hands slip around me and his face lights up with that gorgeous smile, that alone seems like it's worth the pain. And I knew what I was getting myself into. Sort of. I know he's been hurt, and now I understand just how much and in what way. But... he has been doing better.

Although the fear of abandonment is drilled deep within him, and I'm afraid it will never leave, he is better than he was when we met. He smiles more. He laughs. He accepted his feelings and wanted to be with me despite his fear. He even stopped hiding it. He is getting there, but it will take a bit more. She was a big part of his life, and that will never change, but as long as he keeps his promise of leaving her in the past, we will be okay.

I took my phone and clicked on his name, pressing the phone to my ear and listening to the line ring.

And ring.

And ring.

'The number you have dialled is currently unavailable. Please lea-'

I hung up at the sound of the answering machine, not really bothering with it. He is probably working. Or sleeping. It is late in the evening.

Fuck it.

I was still in my pyajamas, just putting on my shoes and grabbing my car keys, almost sprinting through the door.

I want to be with him. I need to be with him.

The rush of the feelings bubbled up, and a smile creeped up on my face at the thought of seeing him. I gripped my steering wheel the entire way to his, wiggling my fingers against it in excitement.

I got into the elevator, pressing that number 7 on the pad. It felt like it was taking hours to get up there, but it was realistically maybe 20 seconds. Only the longest 20 seconds of my life.

I nearly ran out of the elevator, almost stumbling over my own foot as I walked down to his door with a hurried pace.

And then I stopped. I stopped walking. I stopped breathing. My heart stopped beating.

Only a dozen feet away, there he was. The man I love. The man I want to have everything with. The man of my dreams.

And her.
The woman that hurt him. Cheated. Left. The woman he kept crying over.

And their lips slammed onto each others as she leans into him, pushing him against his front door, and his hands in her hair.

I get it now. I get why he told me to stay away. I get why he told me that I want nothing to do with him. I get why Yoongi kept warning me.

I understand his lyrics now, too. The same ones he sang to me. When I first saw them, I thought it was about being unable to let go, but I was so wrong. It was about not wanting to let go.