▸𝑨/𝑵:
Vent piece. I'm damaged. :)
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•┈┈┈••✦ 🥀 ✦••┈┈┈•
"𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿" ; 𝗜𝗺 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗯𝗲𝗼𝗺 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗪
━ ❝𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺. ❞
✦
𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦:
Mentions of Emotional Manipulation, Passive-Aggression, Pent-up emotions, Angst.
✦
𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦/𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢.
Jaebeom is manipulative and detached, (Y/N) is a passive-aggressive masochist in denial.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you to be alone.
You once preferred them that way, unweighted with the obligation to entertain others and their shenanigans. You liked to sit and take in life without the pressure of social interaction, undisturbed.
It was the one thing the two of you had in common.
What started off as a harmonious moment soon spiraled into the downfall of your entire well-being.
You'd been minding your business, nose-deep in the newest article from your favorite author when he came and sat beside you, offering only a mere glance in your direction before attending to a book of his own.
Surprised by his sudden appearance, you froze for a moment before you decided you fancied his energy and the scent of his cologne.
As long as he didn't spoil your solitude with his voice box, you would not complain.
The two of you read in silence for moments on end until you suddenly stopped, becoming hyper aware of his bare arm brushing against yours. You tried to remain focused, but you the skin ship was a distraction— one bigger than you would've expected.
And because you were too shy to voice your concern, you suffered in silence, stuck between hoping he would leave and that he would press closer.
Soon enough, he stands, brushing off his pants before gathering his belongings and leaving. You looked after him in wonder, concluding that you would not be able to finish your book with the memory of his resting face and homey musk fresh in your mind.
That night, you dreamt of him.
It continued that way for weeks, the constant dance around each other becoming bothersome as the other wondered who would cave first.
Just as you were considering throwing in the towel, he turned to you one day, the sound of his voice nothing you'd ever imagined. Despite his soft features, he was nothing short of intimidating. Hearing his soft, honeyed voice was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.
"Would you like to go get some coffee?"
Stunned, and a little embarrassed at your sudden responsiveness, you nodded, taking his outstretched hand as the two of you set off in the direction of the nearby café.
He didn't say much, but the sight of him was oddly satisfying enough as the two of you skimpily chatted about mundane things, neither knowing how to entirely break the ice.
It was awkward, and painful to watch.
But this was no coming-of-age movie. There were no quirky and outgoing friends or lingering little siblings. Just two painfully awkward and shy college students with clear intentions.
Things began to draw out, and you were beginning to lose hope. Had he changed his mind? Was he disappointed with who you turned out to be?
You became saddened with the thought, knowing it wasn't the first time someone had turned out to be more eager than you expected, agitated with your slow pace.
But he did the opposite.
✦
It was raining.
You sat comfortably at the window seal at the library, eyes skimming along your textbook as you tried to grasp the information. You'd probably reread the same sentence ten times, but you kept at it, knowing no twenty-minute nap was worth your mid-term average.
Classical conditioning is a behavioral mechanism in which a natural stimulus is paired with a neutral stimulus.
You stared at the definition, your vision blurring as you drifted into unconsciousness.
Just as your head was about to hit the wall, a hand was placed on your forearm, soft and warm. You jolted awake, vision returning in tiny specs as you tried to pinpoint who'd disturbed you.
It was him.
He smiled slightly, looking just as gorgeous as usual. His hair was in a half-up, half-down style, his clothing casual per usual. You smiled back, adjusting your posture.
"Do you have a minute?"
He was nervous, you could tell.
His clean hands fumbled, interlocking and breaking over and over again as he rocked on his heels. You raised a brow, shrugging your shoulders as you invited him to sit across from you.
But he remains standing.
"Actually, there's something I need to show you."
So you followed along, occasionally switching which hip you held your textbooks on. He leads you to the end of the corridor, shielding the two of you from the fierce storm.
You gasped.
Before you, was Jaebeom, standing with a bouquet of flowers, offering them to you nervously. "I know I've been out of it lately. But the truth is, I've been thinking about whether or not I wanted to do this. Ive been considering tons of different ways to do it, and here we are. Uh- I know it isn't much, but...-"
"It's perfect," You assured, willing away tears as you reached out to retrieve the flowers from his moist hands.
"I like you, (Y/N). Will you be my girlfriend?"
It wasn't a hard decision to make.
The day ended with the two of you holding hands as you neared the familiar café.
It wasn't much different than before, but as you finally mustered the courage to look at him once or twice only to find him looking right back at you, your concerns had melted away.
It was all downhill from there.
✦
Five years seemed to go by like days.
The layers to Im Jaebeom had slowly began to come down, giving you access to tidbits of who he truly was beyond the handsome face and effortless charm, but still you sort of felt like you were dating a stranger.
It was the moments where he wasn't too careful— letting the more human parts of him show that you held onto, long fed up with the forefront he'd built. When he cried to you for the first time, unsure of where his music career was going. When he got jealous for the first time, pouting over a small encounter you'd had with your classmate. He wasn't rude or vain, nor was he loud about how he felt.
But he had a way of making you feel guilty, ultimately causing you to apologize and give in to whatever he wished. It was silent, subtle, and barely noticeable, but being so deeply in love with him, it stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was as if he worked so hard to seem flawless that his flaws seeped through the narrow cracks in his flawless exterior. You knew it would only end one way, yet you stuck around, figuring that since he'd dealt with so much of what you didn't bother to hide, you could put up with what he did.
And it felt that way for a while.
Then it happened.
You'd been seated at your desk, stuck in between the crippling catastrophes of writer's block when your phone started to ring.
You lit up, expecting his name to pop up across the screen, but you deflated once again when the number showed up as unknown. You exhaled, shrugging your shoulders. He'd been M.I.A once again, avoiding you under the guise of working. You trusted him; he'd never slipped up and given you a reason not to, you had to give it to him, but it didn't mean you were any less upset.
Despite that, you allowed him his space, knowing there was always a reason for the things he did.
You tapped the green button, placing it on speaker, instantly met with the muffled background noise of ...
A night club?
"Hello?" You offered suspiciously.
"(Y/N), hey! Wow. This is totally unexpected. I didn't think you would actually answer. Uh, hi? Damn. I already said that. You there?"
You couldn't help but smile, that voice one you knew all too-well.
"Hello, Jackson. This is a pleasant surprise."
"How are you?" He seems noticeably more comfortable once he realizes you aren't icing him out this time.
He was your best friend. You hadn't talked to him much since you began dating Jaebeom.
Quite frankly, you hadn't been talking to any of your old friends, lately.
"I'm okay, just sitting here trying to finish this report."
"Ah. Same old boring (Y/N). All work and no play."
You chuckled, leaning back in your chair as you almost pointedly focused on something more interesting in response to his accurate summary of you.
It was due a week from now, anyway.
"And you're the same old Jackson," You countered, "Always playing around when you should be working."
He makes a noise over the phone, no-doubt rolling his eyes to the ceiling at your quick comeback.
"Wag! You really haven't changed! Anyway, I want to see you. Come hang out with me."
"Really? Why?"
You remembered him having a large circle of friends he could entertain himself with. Why would he bother calling you?
"Because I miss you. I haven't seen you since you started dating that weirdo. It's like you're dead, or something."
You almost immediately defended him, realizing quickly that this was Jackson, and little to nothing he said was to be taken seriously. So you let the words die on your tongue.
"Uh-oh. Did I screw it up?"
You smiled again, "No. You're right. I haven't just hung out in a minute..."
You glanced at the clock on the wall, considering it briefly before you just said fuck it.
"What club did you say you were at, again?"
✦
You regretted it.
All of the flashing lights, the crowds of people, hundreds of bodies swinging to the nightly tune of the speakers at every corner, and the pungent smell of alcohol floating in the air.
You didn't belong here.
But you would be damned if you passed up a chance to see your best friend in the flesh after being dead, or something, as he calls it.
After five minutes of doing the famous insecure wiggle through the crowd of drunks and party heads, you finally made it to the bar, the sight of the bottle of patron looking all too tempting right about now.
You ordered your drink, watching deftly as the woman behind the counter made it with ease, her movements swift and graceful. Once she began to pour it, you pulled out your wallet, but a large hand stopped you, instead throwing a pile of bills on the table and instructing her to keep whatever was left of it.
You looked over your shoulder, met with the familiar muscular build of your flourishing best friend.
He's grown into his features a bit more since you last saw him, the once lopsided smile replaced with a perfect one, his jaw and cheeks much more defined.
He looked amazing.
"I knew I'd find you here," He chimes, "How are you?!" He asks loudly, the thrumming music around the two of you having nothing on his abundance of energy.
"I'm good!" You shouted over the music, realizing what you'd just told him wasn't that truthful, "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed, though! I'm not much of a party person."
He scoffs, "Duh!"
Scanning the crowd, he lets out a sigh and returns his attention to you, the simple act feeling so much more meaningful than it should. It felt nice to be acknowledged for once.
"You wanna get out of here?"
"Sure!"
When all was said and done, you felt like you could finally breathe again, the jitters from before dwindling down to a subtle boost of adrenaline from the alcohol.
He led you to a restaurant not too far from the club. The lights were dim, and the setup was on the fancier side, but he didn't seem to set it aside from any other as he scanned the menu. You slowly began to feel queasy as memories of being here with Jaebeom flooded your mind.
Jackson, more observant than he was credited for, immediately took notice of your stiff posture and rushed to comfort you the only way he knew how.
"Was this whole thing a bad idea?"
You blinked, taking a moment to process the words that had just been spoken to you.
"What? No! It's just... I was just thinking about him. He's taken me here a couple of times."
He looks apologetic now.
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. We can go somewhere else—"
"It's fine, you didn't do anything wrong." You rushed to assure him, catching sight of the couple adjacent to the two of you. They looked at ease with one another.
They looked happy.
You felt yourself deflate yet again, wondering why you felt so hurt by such a lovely sight.
"Then what's wrong? Did the two of you break up?"
"Well...,"
"If so, then he's an idiot for letting you go."
You smiled, finally feeling some of the tension dissipate.
"That's sweet. But no, we didn't break up. He's just always busy with work so we never really get a chance to be alone together."
He nods quietly, listening wholly.
"But even when we're together, the whole thing just feels so uncomfortable. Either we're sitting in silence or we're discussing the same things. He keeps a wall up and all I want to do is get closer to him. But he won't let me."
"That must feel really shitty."
You didn't hesitate to agree, feeling as if you were finally given an opportunity to voice everything you'd been thinking for the last five years. Even if things went back to the way they were, and he decided you were best left on your own, you needed somebody to hear you.
Especially when the one person you wanted to most simply wouldn't.
"It does! I feel like I'm in this relationship by myself."
"Is he bad in bed?"
You chuckled incredulously, bewildered by his sudden crude question. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He hisses, making a pained facial expression as he takes in your stance, "So yes."
You sputtered, unsure of how to counter him. "He's perfectly fine in that department!" He didn't seem convinced, and you couldn't help but rethink the last time you'd felt satisfied being with him in that way.
It was always good, you thought. He was a gentle lover, thorough and patient, but there was always a certain level of emptiness you felt when it was over. Even with your body satisfied, your heart felt always hollow, a dull ache nesting in your body for days on end.
But isn't that what sex was?
"I just..." You folded your hands on the table, "Feel like every time I get closer to him, I get pushed away."
"So why not dump him?"
You shrugged. The answer was simple.
"I love him."
"But does he love you?"
"Of course he does!"
"How do you know that, though? What does he do for you that you can't do for yourself?"
Suddenly feeling cornered, you leaned back in your seat, feeling plagued with the question. It was bothersome, this feeling. It was as if no matter how many different answers your brain came up with, none of them seemed to fit.
It was the one thing you couldn't run from.
✦
The night wistfully passes by, the ice broken and the warmth surfacing. You found yourself smiling a lot more, holding your side as the dangers of laughter caused you to double over.
"So you're telling me, that was the best thing you could come up with?!"
"Listen, she was coming in hot and I didn't know what else to do!"
"So you make the girl kiss you on the chin?" You asked, crossing your arms at your ridiculous friend. He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sends you a pointed look.
"What would you do in that situation?"
You shrugged, "I don't know if I'd ever be in that situation."
He pouts, "Oh, come on. So you've never been caught in a love triangle?"
"Not that I know of. I kinda keep to myself."
It should be enough, but Jackson is Jackson, so no stone shall be left unturned.
"But that doesn't mean anything. The girls who do the least usually have the most men pining over them. How else do you think someone as brining as Bella was able to capture the heart of two bombshell guys?"
The notion intrigued you, but the buzz of alcohol killed the thought before you could wholly process it.
You chuckled instead, giving him a small shove.
"You're silly."
He counters immediately, not missing a beat, "And hot."
Now that he had mentioned it, you took a moment to take him in, noticing everything you'd dismissed before. Sharp lines and edges, doe eyes, and stern eyebrows. Perfect proportions— overall a gentle beauty with an edge.
Yeah, you thought, hot was the word for him.
Maybe the reality of your life had caught up to you, the thought of the night ending and your life going back to the way it was punching a hole in your chest. In just two hours, he had made you feel more than you'd felt in a while. And to see him leave so soon was not sitting right with you.
Or perhaps it was the alcohol, the buzz of it all preventing you from possessing the presence of mind to be a bit more subtle in your visual evaluation of your best friend's face.
He waves his hand in your face, trying to get your attention, but little does he know. He's had your attention since you first saw him tonight.
Something about him tells you that everything is okay. His presence is so comforting, so endearing. It feels like nothing stops you around him. And though anyone could agree you were simply lonely and vulnerable, you felt the need to make the night count.
"Hey, Jackson?"
The smidge of sentimentality in his eyes tells you that he feels the same. For once, you decide to let go. You could deal with the consequences later.
"Yeah?"
His handsome smile and charming structure would likely be the death of you. That, and your relationship.
"Kiss me."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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