tip tap tip click
My eyes were concentrated on my computer screen, wrist hurting after hours of drawing.
I stretched my fingers shortly, before moving on to the next panel, drawing yet another stark naked character that had painfully much resemblance with Jungkook.
God, I'm an awful person.
"That's how you like it, right?" I made Fictional Jungkook ask, "Rough and deep."
I used to feel embarrassed about writing dirty convos like this, but you grow out of that quickly.
In retrospect, it's pretty fucking weird that I just accepted Jungkook as my inspiration to draw, but hey, can you really judge me? This man is a whole five course meal, is it that unusual to have fantasies about someone like him? Sheesh.
It is weird, maybe, considering how well him and I get along.
My head was spinning and back ached once I was finally, finally finished, joints cracking when I stretched my arms over my head.
A glance at my phone told me that it was 2am only - reasonable time to stop, I think. Another thing I noticed was a message from Hoseok saying that I should got o sleep.
"I will, don't worry."
"Liar." Was his prompt answer, "Jungkook exposed your weak sleep pattern."
"What did he do????"
"He told me that you aren't sleeping well."
This little-
I got up abruptly, phone landing on the floor with a crash as I made up my mind of waking this fucker up to ask him why he felt the need to do that.
There was a reason why I wasn't fucking telling Hobi the truth. I didn't want him to worry about me.
Anger, frustration, but mainly shame about lying to my best friend clogged up my mind as I left my room with heavy stomps.
I'm not sure if I really would've gone through with my plan of waking him up, but that wasn't important since the lights were switched on in the living room, making me make an abrupt stop - Jungkook was sitting in the middle of the room, prints of what I recognized as my first tries for my college project sprawled around him.
"What the fuck are you doing there?"
He held up one print, "Did you make these?"
"Yeah, it's shit I know. What are doing here?" I repeated my question, fists clenched at my sides.
He snorted incredulous, averting his attention back to the pictures in his lap, "That's what you do at 4 in the night?"
"No, I never do college work at night." I lunged forward, trying to snatch the paper out of his hand, "That would be terrible."
He scanned one of my newer sketches in his one hand, keeping me away with the other as if I was some tiny dog trying to climb onto his lap.
"So you draw all these in your free time? Damn."
"I, uh- am used to draw a lot in a short amount of time." Manga panels, specifically.
"Then, what do you do in the night?" He looked up from the prints, eyeing me with an expression that wasn't as gloomy as usual.
"My online Zumba course." I answered blandly, finally able to snatch the pictures out of his grasp.
His lips twitched downwards, vexed, "Tch, I'm being serious for once."
"Well, it's none of your business." I fired back, "Just like telling Hoseok about my damn sleep pattern, you dipshit."
"-You can hardly even call that a sleep pattern-"
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" I hadn't meant to be so loud, heart stopping when I saw Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise. God, he was gonna be so mad.
"None of this is your business." I said a little more composed, "You're lucky I'm letting you live here. No need to stick your nose into things that don't regard you."
I collected the remaining other prints quickly, as long as Jungkook was still silent, wanting to get away quickly.
I was already half out the door when I heard him speak: "Don't treat me like crap just because you made some bad experiences with some unimportant high school jerks."
My entire body stopped, pictures dropping out of my grasp, slowly gliding onto the ground, "...what?"
I turned around, "Are you fucking kidding me? WHAT DID HOSEOK TELL YOU?" I was screaming again, not on purpose, heart hammering in my chest.
Bad experiences with some unimportant high school jerks?
I felt my throat tightening, bit my lip to prevent it from quivering like some idiot pussy.
Jungkook got up with a grunt, lifting his arms in surrender, "He didn't tell me anything, actually. He just said that I should be understanding or whatever, because you went through some shit."
I felt like throwing up. Oh my god.
"And then you automatically assume that I have a petty little grudge against... guys?!"
He blinked, "...Yeah."
"Are you serious? Do you- do you really think that- that." Fuck, I was crying, "That this would be enough to make me into this-" I wiped my tears away angrily, hating myself for crying in front of Jungkook of all people.
The man's expression switched quickly, from annoyed to shocked, eyes running over my face in a frantic manner I would've laughed at if I wasn't crying in the moment, "Hey, hey, hey what- Jesus, are you okay?"
"F-Fuck off." I swatted his hand away that had reached out to touch my face, teeth clenching in an attempt of stopping the tears to flow, "Just- leave me the fuck alone. Fuck, I didn't a-ask for any of this." My voice broke, sobs interrupting my words.
It was embarrassing. I never wanted to cry in front of anyone ever again.
Panicked, I did the only thing I could think of and ran away, shutting the door to my room with a loud bang, heavy weight on my chest making it harder to breathe.
___
Jungkook stared at the place he had seen her stand last, arm still lifted to where he had wanted to touch her.
His gaze dropped to the floor, where all these prints of these fucking masterpieces she had called 'shit' were scattered across the carpet.
He could hear her sobs from the other room, sounds cutting through the air like icy blades.
Never had he thought that she was even able to cry. For him, she'd always been this indestructible powerhouse of temper and emotions. Not the kind of person that would cry, ever.
"Do you- do you really think that- that this would be enough to make me into this-"
He'd been stupid, he saw that now. Making assumptions based on little to no information at all, doing exactly what Hoseok had asked him not to do.
Instead of trying to understand her, he had judged her based off of nothing but weird prejudices. And now he had made her cry.
His mother might be a fucking harpy, but she sure as fuck taught him that making girls cry was like, the lowest a man could get.
The hurt in her eyes, the way she had so obviously desperately tried everything in her to hold back her tears and sobs - it made Jungkook feel so fucking shitty.
Sure, they didn't get along well at all, but this was just-
He hesitantly knocked on her door, "Y/N?" He tried to sound as soft and compassionate as possible, not wanting to sound threatening, "I'm sorry..."
Her sobs died down, probably trying to muffle any sounds she was making, no other reactions coming from her.
"What I said was stupid. I shouldn't have made assumptions like that." Still, no answer, "Can I come in?"
"No." Well, at least this was a answer.
"Please. Talk with me so that I can understand-"
"F-Fuck you, did you have to make a girl cry first to start caring?"
He bit his tongue, guilt settling in his chest like rocks, "I don't want this to happen again. Please?"
It was dead silent for a really long time- Jungkook was already about to give up, thinking that he had to accept if she didn't want to talk, when the door opened, her puffy eyed face glaring at him.
___
jungkookie is mean
xx