⚠️* trigger warning: mention of anxiety, blood, and elements of adultery.
➰
"... Jungkook?" You gasped his name in a startled breath. He noticed your body visibly tensed at the sight of him.
He didn't mean to creep in on you. When he approached the gallery, he thought there would be some attendees but it seemed everyone was leaving once he pulled in. At first, he thought he was going to miss you but that wasn't the case. A part of him feared being alone with you. Alone meant a lot of things and some of it he was certain he didn't want to dive into. For a brief moment, he watched you from afar and it ticked away at him that he couldn't guess what headspace you were in. At one point, it seemed as though a sadness washed over you whether that was because it was your last showcase or something else entirely he wasn't too sure, but there was no doubt you were feeling something. However, what he didn't expect was the frightful reaction. He could never do anything to harm you. Well, perhaps it had nothing to do with him at all. You had been through your fair share of ill-intended surprises and it ached him he could - even for a microsecond - make you feel uncomfortable.
"Jesus, Shorty, I am so sorry." He said as he approached you, the sound of the glass shattering below you continuously echoed through the empty gallery, "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's o-okay."
He recognized that look. Terror. You trembled still and he could sense every fiber of his being wanting to reach for your hand and pull you into a reassuring embrace.
"I didn't mean to--"
"It's okay. I'm fine."
You dismissed his concern as you crouched and collected the shattered glass of the frame from the photo. You were shaking still, even now, even after knowing the person who loomed in the other room. Crouching opposite you, he reached for a few pieces of glass.
"I've got it." You snapped.
"I don't mind helping--"
"I said I got it." You shot him a glare and he spotted the gloss coating your eyes, "What are you even doing here?" With rashness, you carelessly reached for the glass pieces in his hand, "Fuck!" A screech came out of you as one of them met the side of your palm. You jolted upward in an agonizing roar, "Shit, shit, shit."
"Here."
He held his hand out and you approached him with a slight whimper. What possessed you to reach for a sharp object he didn't know but he could tell you weren't completely alright. Although he wanted to pry, he couldn't get himself to ask anything. He wasn't sure why all of a sudden he had a difficult time being around you.
Last he'd seen you he was instructing you to breathe and overcome your anxiety attack and before that, you were arguing, and way before that, you were straddling him. He knew you, sometimes better than yourself it seemed, but there was something unfamiliar about you tonight. Perhaps this was something that always happened and he hadn't noticed it until right this moment. Maybe his heart always jumped a little at the sight of you, a nervousness brewing in his stomach. It didn't matter if he hated you or if he didn't want anything to do with you, those pestering butterflies in his stomach would always be there when he laid eyes on you.
"This week I swear." A light giggle escaped you.
"It's not that deep. I can take it out."
"No."
"No?" He smiled and reached for your hand, "You can't walk around with glass in your palm." When you attempted to retrieve your hand he tightened his grip, pulling you slightly closer as you stared into his eyes, "I'll be careful, okay?" He reassured, unintentionally allowing his fingertips to caress your wrist.
He had almost forgotten how numb he became underneath your gaze. One look and he could drown in those alluring eyes. It took his breath away just how you spoke to him through them. Although he had a hard time reading you in the beginning, he could read what your eyes were inaudibly revealing. Something happened. Recently too. It had you tense. Despite the caution that roamed them, he could sense your entirety easing the longer the exchange lasted.
"Okay..." You said with a small sigh, "I might bleed."
"Nothing we can't handle."
"We are both in white though."
He let out a chuckle, "We'll be alright. Ready?"
"Yeah-huh."
"I'll count from three and on 'go', I'll pull it out, okay?"
You whimper as hesitation pierced through you, "On go?"
"On go. Three, two, one--"
"Hold on, hold on, hold on." You retrieved your hand and jumped in your heels as you squirmed.
He grinned at your little dance, "Are you serious?"
"Yeah... no... Okay, okay."
He clutched your wrist and pulled you closer before you squirmed once more, "Stop being such a baby, Shorty." He ordered in a stern tone but couldn't help but smile at your adorable and slightly pathetic whimpers, "Three, two--"
"Wait, wait, Koo."
"It'll hurt more if you move."
"Wait, wait, wait." You hastily said.
"Look away then."
"Okay." You sang the word in a whiny tone as you obeyed. He began the countdown but once he reached two he yanked the sharp object out of your palm causing a wave of profanities to stream out of you, "You said on go, you lying piece of shit." There was his Shorty.
He grinned at your outburst as he tossed the glass aside before loosening the only item of clothing on him that was black. He approached and you willingly handed him your wrist. With his tie in hand, he began to wrap it around. Luckily, the cut wasn't too deep but it was alongside half the length of your palm and you were bleeding quite a bit.
"This should hold for a while. Do you have any bandaids here?" When you didn't respond he glanced at you only to catch your gaze shift from his lips to eyes. With a smile and a raised eyebrow, he whispered, "... Shorty?"
"Jungkook."
"I asked if you had any bandaids?"
"Does it matter?" You searched his gaze as you asked the question in a soft almost breathy tone.
"We have to stop the bleeding, don't we?"
"Do we?" You licked your lips prompting him to catch the stride of your tongue wetting your upper lip before you shot him a smile.
God, you were always so fucking blunt about things.
You never hid it and he had to admit he could sense those pestering butterflies basking their wings in excitement. It was easy liking you, had been from the moment he refused to give up on the wine bottle, and it was even easier falling for you. However, standing next to you now, it felt like nothing else mattered. The look in your eyes told him as much. Despite the conversation, both of your eyes were speaking in an entirely different language; one of insane attraction and an undeniable pull. To say your presence didn't ignite his being would be an understatement.
Dangerous girl.
He had to remember this wasn't the reason behind his visit. Although a part of him wanted to lean in, he had to remember the agreement. Focus. The good didn't outweigh the bad. It would be practically setting himself up for failure and a sure-fire way of breaking his heart again. He waited for you for two years. There was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to step into the past especially when things with Fatou were just starting. He had his sight on the right woman and you were not her.
The sudden touch of your fingertips caressing the little scar on his cheek forced a small breath out of him. As if he turned into butter, melting underneath your touch while you shared a lingering stare, he, too, couldn't help but wet his lips. You didn't only ignite his being, you caused a damn explosion. He had no control around you. However, as though his past and present self were colliding, when you leaned in he cleared his throat and widened the gap. He shouldn't get too close... not like this and especially not right now. He came for a reason and that was because of your Mother, pure business, anything else would be confusing.
Still manic. He had to remember to control his urges, he couldn't afford to allow himself to slip again. It was right there, creeping in the depths of him, begging to be unleashed while promising to wash away the growing concerns that often occupied his mind.
"I... um..." He murmured as he accidentally stepped on some glass that reminded you which frame you dropped.
"Oh no, my photograph." You approached it when he halted you, don't get hurt again, before he crouched to assure the image's survival, "Be careful with it."
"I will."
"No, I mean it, Koo. Be careful, it's worth sixty thousand."
"Sixty--" he paused as he gazed up at you, "Someone paid sixty grand for this?"
"Yes... Please be careful."
"Okay, I heard you." He pulled his sleeves back, reaching for the corners of the image and making some of the shattered glasses slide against the large photo.
"Be careful."
"I said I heard you, Shorty."
"Be careful, Koo."
"I will, I got you."
"Please!"
"I'll be less careful if you keep screaming at me." He shot you a glare and you backed away, too afraid to look, "I've got this." He reached for the corners once more, carefully sliding the image from its confinements until he successfully retrieved it. With a deep exhale, he asked, "What now?"
"Put it on the counter."
With the image spread out neatly, he watched you as you pulled out a magnifying glass and began to examine the picture, methodically and almost skillfully assuring every inch of the photograph remained intact. Although you were hunched over, fully in photographer mode, he couldn't help but lose interest in the state of your photo.
You were within his grasp. You were right here.
He caught a whiff of your flowery scent and the familiarity of it made his heart do joyful cartwheels. It was one thing to think about you, another thing entirely to hate you but when he was close to you, nothing else ever seemed to matter. As though his surroundings evaporated. The distance often made him remember the bad but nearby, however, the good practically screamed at him.
Your hair was in an up-do, revealing your long neck which his gaze caught and followed the alluring nudity that had your entire back exposed. No bra. You murmured something but his eyes wandered to your chest to confirm his suspicion. As if he won the lottery, when you straightened your posture, he got a glance at your unsupported breasts. Even though you were dressed gracefully, there was something sexy about you. There always had been. It shot a jolt through his entirety to know that underneath this modest dress you were completely bare.
"Yeah, I think we're good." You murmured, still engrossed with the task.
"No scratches?"
"No, I don't see anything. At all." He grabbed your wrist, preventing it from dripping blood on the image, "There's nothing here." You then grinned, excitement making you forget the relationship's status, "You're the best, baby, thanks for the save--"
He shot you a look that made you bite your tongue. It seemed as though you hoped he didn't catch the term of endearment. He heard it, loud and clear, but he didn't want to object to it so instead, he cupped your hand as you exchanged another lingering stare. His body was instinctively reacting to yours as if you were sending out some feromones that were specifically catered to his scent. He didn't have a say or any control over himself.
His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and snapped back up. That invisible red thread appeared again. It screamed at him to pull you in and he obliged. He caressed your hand with his thumb as familiarity with a hint of attraction made its presence known. You leaned into him as your eyes remained glued, knocking the breath out of him and causing his knees to buckle underneath, but it wasn't until he felt your unsupported chest pressed against his that he cleared his throat once more. Focus. Distance. He shouldn't get too close.
"So... um..." You retrieved your hand as he stepped away from you.
What was he doing? He wasn't here for that. It was obvious after your anxiety attack, he only brought out the worst in you. The good didn't outweigh the bad. There was no point in pursuing something he knew wouldn't last. Besides, he was with Fatou now. She was someone he wanted to cherish. He couldn't betray the good thing they were working towards. He didn't come here to flirt, he didn't want to feel this attraction, and he most definitely didn't want to entertain the idea of you. He was over it. All of that pining gave him nothing but a doubtful mind and a broken heart. Enough. You weren't meant to be. He could be happy elsewhere... with Fatou... she was the right girl for him.
"... the gallery was a success?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it was."
"Sixty grand for a picture," he whistled while scanning the other photographs displayed on the walls, "That's amazing, Shorty, congratulations." Stop saying that. It was going to confuse you.
"Yeah..." You flashed a weak smile but it didn't seem sincere, "Thanks."
Oh man, he was confusing you. It was written all over your face. Stupid. He shouldn't call you that. You called him baby... why would you? Ugh. He needed to focus, make a better effort and not allow the pestering red invisible thread to dictate how he acted around you. Fatou. He should think of her. Things would be easier if he did. Keep that in mind. He wasn't here to rekindle, everything you wanted to say to each other had been said, your relationship was a closed chapter.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Huh?" He was too busy admiring the beautifully captured photographs, "I'm sorry... I was just--"
"Looking?"
"Admiring." You giggled into a grin as you lowered your gaze. There it was... this one was sincere, "What did you ask, sorry?"
"The reason you're wearing all white...? You wanted to be at the event?"
"Yeah... no, not really."
You folded your arms and stared at him, "How did you even know about the dress code?" A nervous chuckle escaped him and you murmured the conclusion he didn't utter, "Jin told you about it, didn't he?"
"... Yeah, he did."
"Wow."
"Hey, listen, if it's too weird--"
"I don't have a say." You walked behind the counter, distancing yourself from him as he approached you, "You guys are adults. If you want to hang out and become friends that's really none of my business."
"It's bothering you though..."
"No, it's not." You pulled out a new frame from within the counter, "Honestly, it's not." You reassured as you carefully aligned the new glass to the photograph Hyungwon's boyfriend bought, "It's not a bother at all."
"You do know I know you, right?"
"Yes and thanks to Jin, I now know you think of me as a selfish bitch." You stared at him with raised eyebrows and a grin as a baffled look smeared across his face, "Thanks for that by the way."
You weren't mad? That was a first. Old you would have taken some kind of offense to this. In fact, you would have said he was acting like Namjoon; befriending whomever to get close to you. But that wasn't what he was doing. He was sure you thought the same but you didn't show it. Yet - despite it though - you continued to smile as if you were trying hard to reassure your stance on the topic.
"Well, in my defense, I was drunk when I called you that."
"They do say kids and drunk people speak the truth."
He smiled as he lowered his gaze, "Do you want me to apologize?"
"No need."
"Are you mad?"
"About your friendship or being called a bitch?"
"Both?"
"I thought you knew me?" You teased before you resumed placing the image in, "Besides, it's not like I didn't deserve it. I have been selfish. With you... with him... with everybody really." You grinned but the laughter was coated in sadness, "I guess I took Doctor Jung's advice a little too literal." What was that? No, you couldn't say that. He didn't want you to say that.
"It's okay. Really. I was. I'm not mad at you for venting to him. I have been selfish."
"You... um..." What the hell was he supposed to say to that? "I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything."
He obliged again, watching you examine the photograph once more before reaching for a new frame. The good versus the bad, where were you now? It seemed good, confusing as hell, but good right in this instance. You did seem different. It was as if he didn't know you, a stranger of some sort. Perhaps this was what Jennie was talking about, only knowing one side of you or rather twenty percent or however low she deemed your relationship as. He hadn't seen you this calm since... well, ever.
It was too confusing. Was this a new version of you or simply one he'd never gotten to meet? As weird as it came across, you seemed mature and in a way, he was unsure how it made him feel. Perhaps this was a snippet. A version of you who used your voice to be an actual security and stability instead of a false one. Was he wrong about you this whole time? Maybe Jennie was right after all. How were you going to experience the good when life only threw bad your way?
"I have something for you by the way... before I forget." He pulled out Jennie's book he had hidden under his jacket, "I promised her I'd deliver this to you."
Upon reaching for the hardcover, your fingertips graced his and you exchanged a glance. A baffled giggle then escaped you once recognizing the title and pen name.
"No way!"
"You should see their living room. There are boxes upon boxes filled with books."
"I can't believe she finished it. Wow." You slid your hand against the object, a small exhale escaping you as you opened it, "This is amazing."
"She said there's a note in there--" You waved it at him with a smile before proceeding to read with the book against your chest. Aww's and oh's came out of you as you smiled tenderly at the note. Curiosity then got the better of him and he pried, "What does it say?"
"It just--"
He watched as your expression shifted. You kept reading the note with such focus that it took him aback. He wondered what Jennie said to you but apparently, he didn't care enough to snoop before handing it over. He should have.
There was something about your expression he didn't care for and he wondered if Jennie said something about him. But then again, she wouldn't. She wasn't the type to interfere like that. Moonbyul definitely would but Jennie wouldn't regardless of how much she cared for you.
"When you see her, can you tell her I can't wait to read it? And thank her for the letter."
"What did it say?"
"She was just thanking me." You said with a fake smile before you resumed the framing. He might not know all aspects of you but he knew when you lied, and that right there was a lie.
"Thought we didn't keep things from each other."
"We don't."
"So, it was about me."
"Wow, someone thinks highly of themselves." You sarcastically voiced with a grin.
"See, you looked away."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't." You let out a nervous giggle.
"And you lied. It is about me."
"I didn't lie, you just know my tell-signs."
He sprung his arms out in a victorious stride, "Shorty, you just admitted it."
Bewildered at his quickness, you both chuckle when it occurred to you he got you, "Shut up." You grinned as you placed the glass carefully onto the photo, "God, I hate that you're a lawyer."
"So, what did it say?"
You ignored his question as you skillfully redirected the conversation. While working on the framing, he listened as you explained the backstory of the young girl as his admiration grew bigger. You were a lot of things but there was one thing for certain, you never lacked passion. As though your aura and energy changed, when it came to your work, it was as if you became a different person. You seemed whole and to be honest, you seemed to be in your element. The confidence that exuded out of you was almost enchanting and quite the treat to witness. There was no doubt in his mind you belonged here but he also wondered why you'd willingly give it up for photojournalism.
It seemed as though you weren't entirely done with the art world or rather it wasn't done with you, so why leave it behind?
"I don't know." You snickered as your gaze remained on the frame upon finishing it, "New beginning. I don't really know."
"Doctor Jung hates that sentence."
"What? I don't know...? Yeah... Yeah, he does, doesn't he?"
"His ears turn red whenever I say it."
You giggle a little and his heart fluttered at its sound, "Has he ever gone mute on you?"
"Mute?"
"Yeah. Like... um... Alright, so there was this one session when you and I--" you paused as you met his eyes, "Were not... To--"
"Together? Yeah, go on."
"Yeah, well... um, he refused to ask or engage in any conversation because I apparently used that sentence a little too much."
"Wow." A chuckle escaped him as he leaned against the counter while you reached for your jacket, "What was it about for him to challenge you like that?"
"Umm..."
"Go on."
"No. I think it's best--"
"It can't hurt me if that's why you're holding back." He said with a smile, hoping it was enough to reassure you.
"He asked me what I wanted. I was too much of a chicken shit to answer, so I said 'I don't know'. And he refused to have any sessions with me until I was honest."
He folded his arms, holding his breath after asking you, "And what did you want?"
Two years. He waited almost two years for this. The talk. When he ran into you at the wine aisle with Taemin, all he could think about was why you left or rather why you never bothered to return. The countless times he spent nitpicking and overthinking conclusions almost destroyed him, in fact, it did destroy him; from depressive to manic and repeat of the cycle until one day it stopped and he returned to himself. Since gaining the upper hand, he made it a point to never spiral as bad as he did then.
With the help of Doctor Jung and better-equipped medicine, he was doing better; way better than he ever dreamed. It would always be there like his therapist finalized; 'Some people are born with freckles, others with dimples while some have lazy eyes or a mental disorder.'
He was the ladder. There was nothing to be done. There was no changing what was factual and the fact remained - instead of freckles - he had a mental disorder. The revelation of it hit him like a high-speed train. It was never about controlling it but learning to co-exist with his other sides. Just like you but yours was different from his, Doctor Jung already explained it; where he had to embrace his, you had to rebuild the version of you that Namjoon worked tirelessly to erase.
"... Me." You voiced in a breathy and almost sad tone, "I couldn't get myself to say it... o-out loud, you know? And with Doctor Jung being Doctor Jung, well he--"
"Pushed?"
"Yeah."
"Hard?"
"A little hard, yeah... Harder than I wanted it to be."
"But did you need it?"
"If you asked old me, I would have said 'fuck no and fuck that fucking therapist'."
He chuckled at your sass, "I'm pretty sure you did say that."
"I did." You grinned as you wrapped the spring jacket's belt around your frame, "I don't know... I was too scared to say it to anyone that I wanted me." He didn't realize he glanced away, "I haven't wanted... I'm not even sure how to put it, even now." You giggled to yourself and it fell quiet for a brief moment until whatever expression he was displaying prompted you to say, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Koo. It's just something that happened, you know. It's just... it's... Yeah, you're right I was selfish and I became all about me, me, me."
"Yeah."
"Yeah... I got carried away and... I... I know I broke my promise, Koo." He nodded, whimpering slightly as he fought the emerging tears, unable to look you in the eye, "I am sorry. I do owe you an apology."
Two years later and he finally received what he wanted. But why now? Why were you doing this now compared to a month ago? He wasn't fully stable, it wasn't fair to spring this on him. He was neither emotionally prepared nor strong enough mentally to counter it, to disagree, or anything. You abandoned him. You treated him like something that could be tossed aside and left him to fend for himself in his most vulnerable state. You promised you wouldn't leave but you did. He was supposed to hate you, he did, with his whole heart too. Fuck you. He hated you, he still did, nothing would change that.
Yet, fuck fuck fuck, he sniffed, "You don't. Not really. I get why."
"You don't have to be a good guy."
"I'm not. Really, I'm not. I don't give a shit about being the good guy..." He snickered and glanced at you, "It doesn't even matter at this point. You've moved on and so have I... So."
He couldn't listen anymore. There was nothing about this that was familiar. You, this conversation. God, it was confusing. What was this? He didn't come for this. Focus. He didn't want your fucking apology, not anymore. It didn't matter because the good didn't outweigh the bad. Whatever front you were putting on now couldn't change that fact. You weren't good for each other, never had been. Focus. He came here for the trial.
Then the sound of your phone beeping ripped you both from the moment. You revealed it was a message from Hwasa and that some of your attendees were waiting at Jimin's bar. An after-party in your honor.
➰ YOU ➰
Outside. Alone with Jungkook. On a starry night too.
You walked beside him and listened as he explained the reason behind his sudden visit. It wasn't about you at all but your Mother and the trial. Although you had a hard time figuring out what was up with him, you couldn't exactly get yourself to write it off as pressure. You couldn't put your finger on it. Something was up. Jungkook didn't seem entirely like himself. Sure, some moments confused you but overall, it felt as though he was present but simultaneously elsewhere.
"So, she's the defense's witness?"
"Key-witness actually."
You caught his jaw clenching. He was stress about it. Who wouldn't be? A lot of people were relying on him and his team. If the verdict of the Chungha trial was in favor of Jackson Styles, the tax evasion including the many lawsuits that were inevitably awaiting the man could easily get swept under the rug. He would gain sympathy from those in power and status and that would automatically hurt small-owned businesses.
"Between us, okay?" You nodded when he shot you a stern look.
He wasn't allowed to discuss the trial outside of the courtroom. The consequences of it could hurt him in ways that wouldn't only disbar him but strip away his license.
It didn't make sense to you. Your Mother, a key-witness? You stared at him perplexed, unable to understand her relevance. She wasn't part of the trial when it first began.
Why was there a need for her this time around?
You remember talking to her about the charity event where Miss Chungha was last seen and recall your Mother explaining she didn't hear or see anything. She even went as far as telling you she didn't see much of Jackson after his welcome speech that night.
Why was she a witness for the defense instead of the prosecution?
Upon asking Jungkook, he grew adamant to keep it between you as if he'd forgotten to trust you with things but you reassured, remembering the deep consequences that lied ahead if it ever got out he was revealing parts of the trial to anyone outside the courtroom. This time around it wasn't being televised, the new Judge made sure of it, so you - as well as the rest of the city - patiently awaited the result.
"So, they are making her lie?"
"Well yeah, because she told me she didn't see anything." As if a switch turned on, you could tell by the sudden bafflement but bright look in his eyes he was going to request something but you hastily stated, "And before you ask, it's a no. I will not testify to that."
"Shorty, you could help me big if you did."
"I already told you everything I know, Koo. Keep me out of it."
"Are you sure though?" You nodded and he let out a sigh, "It's just that it would really help me out. You know these people, this is your circle and you hear things--"
"No." You interrupted, "We've been down this road. I won't change my mind. I'll gladly ask my Mother about it or whatever else you need, but I refuse to testify to anything."
"But you're not a criminal defendant, legally you can't plead the fifth."
"Don't do that. Don't start."
"Well are you or are you not in contempt of the court?"
"We are not in court, Koo." You chuckled in bewilderment, "What's the matter with you? Why are you trying to intimidate me? You asked for a favor and--"
"Okay, okay... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." You watched him as he scratched the back of his head, "I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"I appreciate that you're even willing."
"What?" You nudged at his shoulder with yours, "Did you think I wasn't?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I think I know how you'll react to things and other times--" He shoved his hands in his pockets while shrugging, "I just don't know. You're confusing."
"... So. are you."
You stole a quick glance at his profile; his dark and wavy locks brushed against his cheek, hiding his eyes and making it hard to guess what was occupying his mind. However, any thoughts concerning the trial or the weird feeling you'd been receiving since seeing him got replaced.
After leaving the gallery, he offered to drive you to the bar. It was only a few blocks away but despite this, the offer was tempting. However, the thought of sobering up seemed far more appealing to you. Besides, a little exercise would do wonders against those sharp claws that were ripping your uterus apart from the inside. You were used to being emotional and whiny during your period but sentimental...? That was new.
A part of you didn't want Jungkook to hate you any further. Selfish bitch. That phrase. It killed you to know he thought of you as such, not just him but Seokjin as well. The last thing you needed was those around you - especially those you cared for the most - to feel as though they didn't matter.
The offer. It lingered in your mind. How confusing. Didn't he remember the trips? You could never get in a car with him. Alone no less. Or perhaps you should have. Was that his way of trying to rekindle things? On it, inside of it, backseat, front seat. Those late-night drives were the best.
You cherished those memories; from the sex to the long conversations you shared. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer. Perhaps it would have turned into an actual talk, an extension of what you were trying to say back at the gallery. Oh, man... You should have taken the offer but then again... no, if you were to let the alcohol and Mother Nature's cruel sense of humor take over, you probably wouldn't control the heightened arousal that came during your period and straddle him.
You and Jungkook alone meant two things. This much you knew. With you, it was love or hate. Sometimes even both at the same time.
"Shorty?"
"Huh?"
"This way." He grinned as you kept walking forward instead of taking a turn with him.
"Right. Sorry, I was thinking."
"You're always thinking."
"You make it sound like it's a bad thing."
"Only if you're overanalyzing." He turned to you with a smile, "Were you?"
"No."
"Jury's verdict?" He nudged your shoulder with a grin before pretending to slam a hammer into the air, "Guilty, your Honor!" You shoved his arm at the cute animated expression, "You were overthinking."
"I wasn't. Shut up."
"Was it because I offered to drive you?"
"Maybe."
He leaped ahead, facing you as he walked backward, hands still in his white slacks, "What were you thinking about?"
"You're all kinds of curious today, huh?"
"You can't answer a question with a question, baby." He flashed a smile, "Come on."
Baby... Shorty... You raised an eyebrow as you bluntly confessed, "The sex."
"Which time?"
"You called me baby."
"Irrelevant." He dismissed with a click of his tongue, "Besides, so did you. Which time?"
There it was again. Something was off. It was faint but it was there, "No specific time. Just generally."
"We were good at that."
"Mmhm."
"You don't agree?" You exchanged a lingering stare prompting him to then halt when you didn't respond, "You don't agree?"
"Is that what you think? That's the only thing we were good at?"
You studied his face as he contemplated your question. Without answering it, he turned around and resumed walking. No wonder he thought the good didn't outweigh the bad. There was nothing good for him other than the sex.
Well, if that didn't make you feel cheap you didn't know what would.
No, that wasn't true. He was kidding himself. He must be. God, you screwed up big time. What was happening? Perhaps he was doing it deliberately or something else entirely. Maybe he didn't want to remember the good or maybe you managed to taint the relationship with your destructive selves that only the bad remained.
"No. I also think you're fucking good at having an attitude." He shot you a smile.
"What are you doing?"
With a nonchalant shrug, he halted at a red light and you followed pursuit beside him. What was happening? There was something off, a hundred and ten percent. This time you were certain. It was definitely faint but it was there. Was he experiencing a high?
The sound of giggles not too far from you made you shift your gaze behind. Two women dressed rather skimpy with fifty layers of makeup were whispering to each other.
Saturday night. You had forgotten. No wonder the streets were filled with people. Your surroundings disappeared as soon as you left the gallery with him; from the sight of cars passing through on the main road to the different genres of music streaming out from both bars and nightclubs, and the chatter of folks you passed. All of that evaporated into thin air. It was just you and him. Again. Alone.
One of the women, the brunette, pointed at Jungkook and whispered something to her blue-haired friend before they giggled like school girls. It was obvious they were intoxicated and you let out a weak sigh when you caught the brunette checking out his ass. Horny little fucker.
When the light turned green, you spotted the brunette leap over to him and linked her arm with his. Bold horny little fucker. Taken aback by the sudden touch, he grinned when he noticed it was a harmless drunk woman looking for a little male attention. The girls asked him where he was heading and the sound of their school girl giggles made you fold your arms as you walked ahead. Don't get jealous. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"I'm not going anywhere." He grinned, presumably satisfied with the sudden encounter, "Where are you guys going?" Your eyes couldn't have rolled any further back even if you tried. He was entertaining this and in front of you no less.
Ugh, you shouldn't be surprised.
Jungkook loved attention especially when it was the opposite sex or did you forget how you first experienced him? Curtains fully open, lights on, giving or receiving pleasure for anyone to see. A new girl almost every week. A walking orgasm, your orgasm. He became your lover long before he ever touched you. The damn Casanova.
There was no doubt in your mind he was enjoying this little interaction. The long-haired brunette kept clutching onto his arm, giving him compliments and you couldn't help but agree.
He did look good in a white suit.
With his tie wrapped around your hand, he unbuttoned the dress shirt and his tone chest was on display, and along with the long hair and tattoos, you would be surprised if every woman didn't hit on him. He was a charmer especially when he smiled but even more so when he opened his mouth. It was as if he read women well, understood what he needed to say and do to make them succumb. Sometimes he didn't need to say anything at all, his hauntingly captivating eyes would do the talking. He was a raging ball of heat, sex God practically, and like a moth to a flame, women could smell the "good fuck" that oozed out of him.
"I know, I wish I could but I have to go home to my girl." You heard him say and snapped back into reality. The two women then glared at you and you walked ahead with your head high, not slowing down to engage with the bullshit. Don't get jealous. You heard Jungkook parting ways with the girls before you felt his touch at the small of your back, "What's the hurry, Shorty?" He grinned the question.
"Who's the girl?"
"Huh?"
"The girl you gotta go home to? You have a girl now? The one who was spamming you when we--"
"You weren't supposed to hear that." He bit his lips as frustration coated his face.
"Interesting."
"You don't wanna go there."
You halted, forcing him to do the same when you gripped his arm, "Actually I do. Yeah, I do. I do. You have a girlfriend?"
"So, only you can move on?"
"Don't ask a question with a question. Besides, I haven't." He dismissed you by resuming the walk, "I haven't, Koo."
"Right, sure."
"I haven't. I'm telling you, I haven't."
He stopped and turned to you, annoyance streaming out of him, "And that guy in your apartment, in a fucking towel, apartment smelling like breakfast and sex and shit, you gonna tell me that's not moving on?" You shot him a perplexed look, unable to articulate a proper answer before he snickered and walked away, "You're so full of shit."
"Lucas is a fuck buddy, he was a fuck buddy. That's it. I am not you, okay, I can't spread my legs for every man I see. I wish I could but I can't, I'm not programmed that way and you know that." You stated without matching his level of frustration. "Can you please stop pretending like you don't know me?" You reached for his hand but he hastily moved it, "I don't have a boyfriend, Koo, I only have you."
With a click of his tongue, he walked through the brick-made arch that led to an alleyway. Jimin's bar was a few meters away. Destination arrived but you prayed this wasn't how you'd leave each other. He was fueled with something, it was written all over him. You weren't certain before but you were right this moment, he was manic but not just manic but on a self-destructive path. He was deliberately trying to poke and you couldn't help but wonder why.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing." He shrugged nonchalantly.
"No, seriously, what are you doing? What is this?"
"What is what?" He then leaned against the archway.
You flung your arms to the side, bafflement forcing a chuckle out of you as you sized him down, "You're doing it again, Jungkook."
"Doing what?"
"This. All of this."
"You need to elaborate, I don't quite understand what you're getting at."
"Pushing. You're pushing. You want me in a corner."
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
What was happening? He was trying to push your buttons but he seemed so unbothered doing so. You caught his gaze as you approached him with a slow stride and sigh.
"What do you want?" He glanced away, watching a group of friends that passed the archway, "Seriously, what is it that you want? Besides the favor, what is it that you want from me?" When he didn't respond, you exclaimed his name prompting him to look at you. After a brief moment and sunken shoulder, you read the reason in his eyes, "Oh my God."
"What?"
"Oh my God, Koo."
"What?"
"Is that what you want? Do you want me to yell at you? Be angry and throw a tantrum, is that fucking it?" You sighed in defeat, "A punishment, right?" With a few steps toward him, you murmured, "Is that what you want? To say 'bad Jungkook, bad boy' and slap you?" He kept his glare at you, not budging, "Do you want me angry? Provoke like you... like you've been doing to me? Call you an asshole and walk out?"
"Wouldn't be the first time."
You shook your head as you stared at him, melancholy filling your heart, "What's wrong with you?" Every inch of you fought hard not to revert to the past. Selfish bitch. That wasn't you, regardless of how adamantly he tried to shove that version out. You chuckled out of bewilderment as you kept your gaze on his, "You're hurt. I don't know about what's eating at--" You caught the shift in his eyes and chuckled with a loud gasp, "Oh my god. That's it, isn't it? Fuck walking out, you're guilty about something." He lowered his head with a grin, "Oh wow. That's what you want. That's what you fucking want? You want me to be your Mommy, hold you and tell you you're the bestest boy and all that shit with the trial will be okay and cuddle you." The sarcasm in your tone got to him.
"Fuck you."
"Oh look, a genuine reaction. You want me to be your Mommy?"
"Fuck you."
"No, fuck you. Fuck this guilt you're carrying around, fuck you for thinking you're allowed to wallow in your own shit and piss and fuck you for relying on me to make you feel like shit." You shoved him but he caught your arm after the initial blow, "I refuse, you hear me, I refuse to be the reason you succumb to your disorder." You hit his chest, the stain of blood from the tie smeared on his jacket, and you ignored the throb that exuded from your palm, "I fucking refuse to be the reason you spiral. You don't get to make me the villain in your story, you piece of shit."
With a tight grip, he clutched the back of your head, hair strands intertwined with his fist as he leaned into the past and stole a kiss. You both stared at each other during it. It was written in his eyes, he wanted something else from you that wasn't about the trial, that wasn't about handing you Jennie's book, but something so terrifying to him that he'd rather ignore it by kissing you. It broke you momentarily. The warmness of his breath numbed your body and you sensed the brewing anger wither to nothing and get replaced with an understanding; one you had always been aware of but was too ignorant or rather too scared to co-exist with.
"I don't want to be your excuse..." You whispered against his lips as you ripped yourself free, "If you don't want me to be a selfish bitch then quit trying to bring her out."You stepped away from him but halted and turned in defeat when you heard the name that always hugged and filled your heart with eternal calm, "Stop calling me that." Tears threatened to blur your vision, "That's the ninth time tonight. Do you have any idea how fucking con-confusing it is when you call me th-that?" You stuttered as the accelerated beats of your heart made breathing difficult.
"Shorty..."
"Stop it, Koo, just... God, stop it. Just stop it." You glanced away from him, wiping the tears that hadn't yet fallen down your cheeks, "I don't know what is it you want or need from me." Defeat coated your words as your heart cried in agony, "Just don't use me as an excuse. Don't make me the reason the trial fails, don't blame me for your disorder creeping back up." He shot you a puzzled look, "Yeah baby, I can tell."
"Listen, Short--"
"No, I'm tired. I am tired and done being your emotional punching bag."
"That's not what I'm doing."
"That's exactly what you're doing!"
You finally raised your voice. Selfish bitch. Despite the million feelings that were streaming through your entirety, you didn't want to be that. Not anymore. You took Doctor Jung's advice too literally, but you won't any longer. You promised yourself. For those you cared about you had to let them know you did, that they mattered, and that you loved them.
"If you want to feel happy with this girl or whatever and not feel guilty about it or whatever the fuck else you're feeling then by all means go for it. Be happy. You have my fucking blessing if that's what you want." As wholeheartedly as you fought them, they shed but you hastily wiped the tears away, "But anything else, I refuse..."
You exchanged a lingering stare. Long enough for you to catch his eyes glossing until he glanced away.
"Just... Damn it." He said under his breath, "I just want to be free from this." You trembled once he confessed, knowing full well he wanted the one thing you weren't willing to give up but if it meant his happiness, you would, "All of this. I just--" He let out a sigh and gazed at you with tenderness, "Just take away that little hope that's still inside."
"... no."
"What do you mean no?"
"No."
He shot you a perplexed look as he approached you, "What do you mean no?"
"I'm gonna go inside now."
"Shorty?"
"I'm going in."
"Y/N!"
He leaped to you but you hastily closed the glass door that would lead to the staircase to your brother's bar. Surprised by your action, you held the door handle as he stared deeply into your eyes.
"I also refuse to be the one to end us."
"You already did though... Two years ago." You gulped at the profound truth and the devastating look in his eyes, "Just... break up with me already, baby, please."
"No."