———Aera's
"Are you really okay, sis?" Lana calls from the orphanage as I laid restlessly on my bed, in my flat right above the convenience store.
She'd seen it unfold right before her. She'd seen me drop the broom, seen the blood drain from my face, seen the tears stream down my cheeks. She'd heard the unsteadiness of my voice when I said his name out loud for the first time in years, she'd heard the lump in my throat that failed to die down, she'd heard the sobs that left my mouth when he held me.
"What was Jungkook doing here?"
I shrug, despite not having anyone to see my actions. "I'm not sure, Lana." I speak through the phone.
It's his birthday today. I didn't get to wish him happy birthday, or really tell him much of anything. He heard me cry a lot, that's for sure.
"Let's call it a day." I exhale, feeling the weight of today starting to push down on my shoulders. "We can always talk tomorrow when I go to the orphanage for work."
Lana hums before telling me goodbye and hanging up the phone. Silence returns.
It only takes me seconds, for me to fall to the bed, crying, sobbing, bawling my eyes out as my mind tortured me with the image of Jungkook's fading figure as his driver took him away from me.
I was holding him, kissing him, smelling him, taking in all of him, all of what I've missed for the past three years.
For the first time in three years, I felt at home.
In his arms, I felt like I was truly where I should be.
I've never felt such a strong feeling of belonging like that before. Never.
I shouldn't be crying. I should be celebrating, I should be on cloud nine, I should be smiling until the ends of my lips reach my ears. I should be happy.
But the tears keep flowing.
I was holding up just fine. I'd finally convinced myself that he'd moved on and that this new chapter of my life didn't have him in it.
And then he showed up.
He came and reminded me of what I was missing. He'd shown me how hollow I've been for the past years. With one single hug, he showed me that I haven't been the same without him.
And that I never will.
He reminded me of his smell, his voice, his presence, his warmth. Everything that I loved and endeared.
And now I'm finding it hard to breathe in his absence.
He shouldn't have come.
What scares me is the possibility that I won't see him again. That this was just a one-time thing. That he'd disappear from my life and leave me with even more to hurt over.
It's better to have nothing than to be trapped in a memory that's already swallowed whole by time.
I'm sinking under the sheets, caving into this black hole of dread and saudade. The pain pulls my heart out of my chest and quite literally, feels like a stab in my stomach.
I jolt when what sounds like a thousand constant knocks on my door nearly causes my heart to stop beating.
It's probably Axl. He visits often.
There's no one else in my life right now.
For the past three years, my life's revolved around Lana and Axl.
I quickly wipe my tears dry and sniff. I wipe my snot with my sleeve and stumble out of the bed. It only takes me less than five steps to get to the door. It's easy, moving around in this small flat of mine. It's nice and convenient.
Knowing that Axl would in no doubt see my
puffy face and start bombarding me with a thousand questions, I close my eyes as I opened the door, getting my weak heart ready for his scolding session that seems to always last hours.
The door pushes itself open from the other side once I unlocked it. The breeze from outside tickled my face and my skin shivered in places that my tears had once touched.
I winced, shutting my eyes tighter, not ready to face Axl's wrath.
And yet something completely different takes the air out of my lungs.
I really didn't see this coming.
A pair of lips collided with mine and a warm palm hugs the back of my neck. The door closes behind us and I don't need to open my eyes to know who's visited.
I could find him with my eyes closed.
How could I forget the taste of his lips? The way my skin would burn under his simple touch? Or how it feels when his big frame engulfs me whole into a tight embrace?
I could forget everything.
Everything but this exact feeling that runs through my blood when he touches me, when he's near me.
He's here.
I lay my hands on his chest as I cried into the rough kisses he hungrily leaves on my lips.
He's really here.
His hands roam around my body, from my neck to my thighs, he touches me without missing a single inch. His kisses are rough and passionate, fervent and ruthless.
It takes me not much to realize that he's far from sober. The smell of booze that lingers on his blazer. The odd taste of his tongue. The sloppy yet intentional kisses and the way his hands desperately travel my skin.
Tears slide down my cheeks like melted candle wax. The tears drop to his button-up, and stain his collarbones.
Our lips detach when he starts painting my neck with his lips, sucking on my skin, and leaving light purple blotches all over. We collide to the wall and he rests forehead on my shoulder, panting, as he continued to leave rough, forced kisses on my now exposed chest.
In the heat of it, it's only now that I realized my shirt was unbuttoned—or rather torn—halfway, and his no different.
His kisses start to grow weak and unsteady, and I feel his lips shake against my skin. He's holding in his breath, gulping down the lump in his throat while I let it free. The sight of him falling apart is too much for me.
My heart can't take this.
I continue to cry, heaves with every hiccup and I feel myself almost choking for air just trying to silence the sobs. Tears drop to his hair and I feel my shoulder wetting up.
He's crying too now.
And it's not long until I start to hear strained sobs leaving his lips. The crack in his voice makes my heart tighten.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall, catching my breath as his arms circled around me tightly. He doesn't stop crying, and I feel his body quivering against me.
With a trembling hand, I lift to pat his hair, then left a soft kiss right where my palm was.
His restricted sobs fill the room and echo off the walls. This is far from the euphoric reunion either of us would've dreamed for, but nevertheless, he's here, and for that, I'm grateful.
/
Hair tousled, and disheveled clothes scattered around the floor, we laid in my bed with our naked bodies intertwined, pressed together, and it scares me.
It scares me to believe what had just happened.
Too good to be true.
Too far from my usual reality.
After what seemed like an eternity, he had come back to me, tears and all, not having lost any love, and became my first. I never thought I'd care so much about it, sex never seemed extremely sacred to me, but the thought that we've finally shared this moment together after this distance makes all the difference.
We were clumsy and inexperienced. It was everything. I'd been able to hear him laugh because of it, and it's the most beautiful thing I've heard in a long time. He still laughs the same, still blushes the same, still kisses the same. And the most bizarre bit: he still loves me the same. Maybe even more, it seems like.
I lay my head on his bare chest, hearing his every heartbeat as we breathed calmly next to each other.
"Why didn't you come look for me sooner?" I asked quietly as he reached for my hand and held it up high, intertwining our fingers together. I looked at the sight and a small smile crept to my lips.
"Would you? If you were me?" His voice was hoarse and dry. He's still a little intoxicated and sleepy, leaving his words slurred.
It does bother me just a little that he wasn't fully sober during our first time together, but it then dawned upon me that he probably wouldn't have knocked on my door anyway if he hadn't had a push of liquid courage.
"I did visit you though. After my father passed."
Why didn't I know about this?
I prop myself up with my elbow and look back at him, unable to suppress the confused expression from my face.
"I just stood outside and watched you until you went to sleep. I just felt so lonely," his eyes start reddening, but he holds up, not letting it affect his voice as he spoke. His eyes twinkle, the dim lights reflecting off of the tears that begged to flow.
"I needed to be with you, everything was really heavy on me and it felt like you were the only one that could make it better. But I couldn't let myself."
I put my thumb next to his eye, wiping away his tear before it reached his cheek.
"...so I just watched."
I lay back down and rest my head at the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around his neck as I felt both of his arms tighten their hold on my waist. He held me tightly, but not enough to make me feel strangled or trapped. Only enough to make me feel comfortable and protected.
"I tried not to look at news about you, because they say bad things about you a lot. But you were everywhere, I couldn't shut it out."
I feel him nod, and my hair rubbed against his jaw.
"I'm sorry about your father."
It must've been hard for him. His feelings towards his father have always been complicated and buried deep inside him. He never talked much about this, not even to me. But when he did, it never came to him easily.
It's harder to accept the death of someone that you are still figuring your feelings towards. It leaves with too many untied knots, too many unhealed wounds.
And the worst part is that you're left all alone to fix it, to endure it.
I don't have to hear him talk about it to know that these three years haven't been any easier on him than myself.
The way he'd cried against me earlier was enough proof of that.
"I'm sorry about how everyone treated you afterward too."
It's hard to forget about someone that the whole country is talking about. To everyone else, his name was no more than a headline, bold text on the newspaper. It was more than that to me.
"I don't want to think about any of that right now."
I feel a kiss planted on the crown of my head.
My face flushes as I flame up in his touch.
"Happy Birthday."
He hums deeply.
"I'm sorry I didn't get to give you anything. All I've done today is cry in your face." I groan, digging my face in his shoulder.
"You've given me the best birthday I could've ever asked for." He mumbles, fingers running down my arm softly.
"Can I ask you something?" I speak with my lips on his skin, my hand unconsciously fiddling with his hair. He hums again, in response.
"How did you find my place? Or the orphanage even?"
"I started looking after my father died. I was already looking back then. I'm not too sure actually, my assistant did most of the work. And after today, I couldn't just leave you like that. You wouldn't leave my head, even after I went back to the company."
He lightly squeezes the skin around my waist, then kisses my head again. I didn't know anyone could kiss so much, just for the hell of it.
"I told him to look for you immediately. It didn't take long."
I roll myself onto my back, and he lays his arm out for my neck to rest on. I accept his sweet gesture and take his other hand, hugging his arm as I left soft kisses all over.
"Thank you for coming back for me."
"Thank you for letting me."
I lift my head up to meet his eyes, and he immediately smiles, the sides of his eyes crinkle as he does. I'll never get over these little things.
"Can you stay tonight?"
I'd expect him to say no. The whole country has its eyes on him.
Being here is no good for him.
He is everything to me. He is humble. He is beautiful. He is genuine. He is delicate. He is gentle. He is loving. He is warm. He is the brightest star in this universe, even on his darkest days.
But I don't forget about what he is to other people. What he is to the people that don't understand him.
Owner of Jeon Enterprise, Jeon Jungkook, stays overnight at a mystery girl's flat above a convenience store, seemingly in a drunken state.
This would make a horrible headline.
The last thing I want is to give people more excuses to hate on him.
I want to hide him and keep him in my arms, and protect him from all the harm of the world. He doesn't need any more of it.
"Only if you let me." He sits up and cradles my waist. He gazes down on me and my chest heaves under his hot stare.
I don't know if I should let him stay.
But with his eyes gazing towards me, and his body above mine, I truly can't allow myself to think about anything else. Jungkook dips down and tickles my neck with his lips, all the way from my jaw to my chest. I laugh brightly, holding his big frame in my arms.
Our giggles fill the dull home and at this moment, all I can think is pure euphoria.
Just him, and me, and no one else.