Hi Denise! Just Wanted To Stop By And Say Your Writings Hold A Special Place In My Heart, You Know That!

Hi Denise! Just wanted to stop by and say your writings hold a special place in my heart, you know that! Here’s a big hug and sending you lots of love!

OMG 😱 Lots of love to you too! You are such a big part of my journey! 💜❤️

4. That time I hated myself the most

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook x Reader (female)

Genre Slice of Life AU | Angst

Word count 1.4k

A/N This drabble collection will not be posted in chronological order.

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©️ dfdph, 2022 - all rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

    The minute Jungkook entered the room, closely followed by Jimin and Taehyung, he knew that that moment was going to leave a painful scar on his memory forever.

     The small room was oddly quiet, different from what he had imagined, different from the movies he had seen.

     They had given Y/N a private room, just big enough to contain a reclining chair and the large mechanic bed where she was laying. The first thing Jungkook noticed were all the tubes and cords coming out of the bed sheets, connected in every direction to different kind of machines and displays. One thing he understood immediately: she wasn’t breathing on her own. The transparent tube coming out of her mouth was a clear sign of it.

     “I know it looks intimidating.” He heard the nurse saying behind them. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’ll explain the best I can.”

     Questions. Jungkook had plenty. Too many to speak coherently.

     He took a step closer, feeling slightly lightheaded. She looked pale, in a way that it scared him, and somehow unnaturally swollen. There was a large white bandage over her forehead and they clearly tried to wash her hair but Jungkook could still see some redness over them that didn’t belong to her. He could only assume it was blood. She was covered from the neck down with a white sheet and a light blue duvet. She was deadly still beneath them.

     Jungkook was just inches away from her, his thighs brushing against the mattress. Yet, he felt as if there was a deep and dark ravine separating them.

     “W-what’s that thing?” Jimin stammered in a quiet voice.

     Jungkook turned his head, following what his friend was pointing and noticing for the first time what was in fact a bulky structure on her left leg. It was the only part of her body that wasn’t hidden, apart from her arms, full of scratches. He felt a retch of vomit coming up in his throat and a cold shiver running up of his spine. It was something he had never seen before: it closely resembled a scaffolding, its metal cylinders, each less than half an inch wide, sticking out of her flesh like miniature skyscrapers.

     “It’s called ‘external fixator’.” The nurse answered calmly. “The bones of her leg are broken, but the surgeons are going to repair them in a second moment. So, they used these to stabilize the bones in the meantime.”

     “Oh.” Jimin exhaled. “And what is that tube?”

     Jungkook followed his finger once again, leading to a large transparent pipe coming out of Y/N’s white gown and ending inside a rectangular box sitting on the pavement. There was a string of deep red blood running down in it, slowly and tantalizingly.

     “It’s a drainage. She has some blood in her chest, we are draining it through that tube.” The nurse explained simply. “Oh, here is Doctor Lee.” She exclaimed as the door opened behind them. “He’ll be able to explain the situation to you.”

     The situation. It sounded ominous to Jungkook’s ears.

     He recognized the man, how could he not. He was the same one that hours ago had given them the worst news.

     “You should prepare yourselves.” He had said.

     Jungkook felt unjustified hate towards him, a completely irrational hatred that he knew the man didn’t deserve. At the same time, he felt like he could kneel and beg him to save Y/N if he needed to.

     He averted his eyes from the doctor, scared of what he was about to say. He looked at Y/N instead.

     A sleeping beauty. Broken, but still beautiful to him.

     This was the first time in months they were this close. He had imagined the moment many times. It was a happy scene in his head, melancholic at most. But never tragic.

     He felt the urge to take her hand, laying pale on the bed sheet. He stopped, his fingers mid-air, scared.

     Scared of hurting her, so fragile under his eyes, even with just a touch.

     Scared of being undeserving, because a part of him wasn’t sure he was supposed to be there next to her.

     She was the love of his life, he always knew it. But who was Jungkook to Y/N?

     Probably no one. A distant memory.

     Yet he was selfish. He didn’t want to go. Even if she suddenly woke up and screamed at him to leave. He needed to be there, right by her side.

     He put his hands in the pockets of his pants, restraining himself, and settling for caressing her with his eyes and with his heart.

     “Good morning, guys. Do you want to come outside? Maybe have a sit?” The doctor asked with a kind smile.

     “I-It’s okay.” Taehyung answered. “We want to stay here.”

     Jimin nodded putting a heavy hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

     The man sighed. “Okay. I must be honest with you. Y/N is very lucky.” He started saying with a heavy tone. “She has different injuries, a lot of them very severe.” Jungkook gulped listening to the man’s voice. “She has three broken ribs that punctured her lungs and caused what we call ‘hemothorax’. It means that there is blood collecting between her chest wall and her lung. Fortunately, the amount is not that big to worry us, it is just enough to be drained through the machine you see on the right side of the bed.” Jungkook looked back at the transparent tube, the red string of blood still falling slowly inside it. “Her left leg is badly broken. It will need surgery, but we will do it once she’s a little more stable.” The doctor paused and took a deep breath. Unconsciously, the three boys mimicked him. “As you can see, we’ve put her under a coma to protect her brain. The trauma caused a cerebral edema. It’s what’s worrying us the most. It’s pressure is obstructing blood perfusion in her brain. As you can imagine, it’s a serious situation. For now we are taking a medical approach, but we might need to surgically release the pressure, so that the swelling has more room to breathe – so to speak.”

     Jimin gulped, his hand slowly falling from Jungkook’s shoulder. “I-I’m sorry, but how are you going to do that? How are you going to … release the pressure?”

     “We will have to temporarily remove part of her skull. I know it sounds really scary, but I don’t want you to worry about it until you need to, okay?”

     Jungkook had no idea for how long he stayed seated in the same position on the reclining chair next Y/N’s bed. Probably hours.

     The nurse was kind enough to get two other chairs for Jimin and Taehyung, but the two of them soon got tired of keeping still and went out of the room to get some fresh air.

     Unlike them, Jungkook couldn’t move. He was glued to his sit, perfectly still like a statue. Even his eyes wouldn’t budge: they were focused on Y/N. Specifically her closed eyes, the only part of her he could manage to look at without tearing up.

     His thoughts were a rumbling confusion. They went from reliving the doctor’s words, to complete blankness. What was constant, on the other hand, was the intense feeling of guilt puncturing his chest. 

     He imagined himself crossing that street with Y/N, hand in hand like they always walked when they still loved one another. He imagined seeing the car approaching at the last moment, pushing her away from danger and being the one getting hit instead.

     Jungkook felt his heart constrict at the thought, tears filling his eyes once again, burning.

     He wished it went that way. He wished he was the one laying on that bed fighting for his life.

     Not her. Not Y/N. Him.

     Some might think the thought was romantic, but the truth was only one: he envied her.

     Some sick part of him, a part he was very much ashamed of, felt that having all of his bones broken was way better than whatever he was feeling in that moment: a mixture of guilt, pain and indescribable fear. He could feel his body burn from the inside as he imagined angry claws scratching his chest repeatedly and something extremely heavy pushing him on the ground. 

     The thought of her dying, the thought of her leaving this world - him - forever, was unbearable.

     He wanted it to end. 

     So yes, he envied the fact that she was oblivious to everything that was going on inside his head. He envied the fact that she was the one dying.

     The saying was true: those who remain suffer the most. 

     This was the most selfish Jungkook ever felt and he hated himself for it.

That Time 

1. That time I wanted to die

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook x Reader (female)

Genre Slice of Life AU | Romance | Angst Fluff

Warnings Mentions of a car accident

Word count 1.4k

A/N This drabble collection will not be in chronological order. (Indicatively) Posting every Monday.

©️ dfdph, 2022 - All rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

     Jimin knew he had to make the call, he knew it was supposed to be him and no other. It’s what Y/N would have wanted.

     He exchanged a pained look with Taehyung sitting across him in the waiting hall. His eyes were red and puffy, his white knuckles clenching over his knees.

     “He needs to be here.” He whispered.

     Jimin nodded, his eyes trailing down to the phone in his right hand. “I know.” He sighed heavily.

     His number was one of the first on the list of his recent calls, they had been talking to each other just the day before, planning a meet-up. With all that happened between their group of friends it hadn’t been easy to get together as before. Jimin took a deep breath as he clicked the green symbol and with a trembling hand raised the phone to his ears. As the call rang, he almost hoped that he wouldn’t pick up. But he did, just as always.

     “Hey Chim! What’s up?” Jungkook answered joyfully.

     Jimin closed his eyes as he felt the tears coming down for the nth time that evening. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his free hand massaging his neck anxiously. He opened his mouth trying to speak, but all he could do was let out a pained moan.

     “Chim?” Jungkook called again. “Can you hear me?”

     Jimin didn’t know how to tell him. He didn’t know how to tell his best friend that the love of his life was at the end of the corridor fighting for her life. He didn’t know how to tell him that he had seen all of it: how the car had hit her, how she went flying for what felt like a hundred feet, how he had held her blooded unconscious body over his, screaming his lungs out for help.

     A sob escaped through his lips as the scene played on the back of his eyelids.

     “Jimin? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, finally getting worried.

     “I’m at the hospital.” He finally managed to mumble.

     “What?” The other exclaimed. “Why? What happened?”

     “There was an accident.”

     On the other end of the call he could hear the sound of a chair scratching on the floor. Jungkook gasped. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked in a rush. “In which hospital are you? I’m coming.” He continued without waiting for an answer.

     Jimin was crying openly now as he listened to his friend breathe heavily, pacing to get out of wherever he was, ready to reach him. “Jungkook, it isn’t me.” He paused as he heard Taehyung sobbing once again in front of him. He looked up and their eyes met once again. Both of them knew too well how Jungkook was going to feel. They both knew how profound the relationship the boy had with Y/N. It was going to kill him.

     There was a pause on the other side. “Who is it then?” Jungkook asked cautiously.

     “It’s Y/N, Jungkook. It’s Y/N.” He finally cried. “I’m not sure she will make it. You should- you should come. Jungkook, you should- ” Jimin couldn’t speak anymore, but there was no need to. The line went dead.

     Three months had passed since the last time Jungkook had spoken or seen Y/N. Four since their painful breakup. Nothing compared to the decade they spent loving each other, yet it was time Jungkook would have gladly spent in a better way.

     He was just beginning to adjust to a life without her, just starting to breathe normally and smile sincerely again. And it hadn’t been easy, not for a day.

     Jungkook thought that watching the door of their once shared apartment slamming behind her was the most painful thing he could experience. He thought that there was no greater pain than knowing the woman he truly and deeply loved didn’t love him back anymore.

     He was wrong.

     He knew he wasn’t supposed to drive. Not in his condition.

     He couldn’t think clearly. He realised too late that he didn’t manage to get the address from Jimin, he was already dangerously sprinting through the streets with no clear direction in mind but that of her. Fortunately, his friend was one step ahead of him and had sent the location through a message.

     Later on, Jungkook would not remember the journey from his apartment to the hospital. It would be just a confused memory. But he would remember how the time seemed to slow down, how far his destination seemed to be, how he had prayed and prayed like never before. He would remember how scared he was of the unthinkable, how he regretted every single moment he spent without her, how he hated himself for letting her go, for not fighting harder.

     As he run towards the ER, unbothered by the fact that he had just left his badly parked car unlocked, Jungkook made a promise to himself.

     If she dies, I die too.

     And he meant it.

     He spotted Jimin easily. He was pacing back and forth, a blank expression on his face. He sprinted towards him, almost run, grabbing the attention of another familiar person who stood up abruptly from his seat at his sight.

     The surprise of seeing Taehyung lasted only a brief moment. Of course he was there: him and Y/N had been inseparable since college, even more after their breakup when he had clearly taken her side.

     His friendship with Taehyung was another of the long list of things Jungkook lost that day.

     The hug was automatic. As if they could read each other’s minds, the two lunged forward, arms stretched towards the other. The two men clung to each other as if not a day had passed, as if nothing had changed, as if they were still the same two boys who used to get drunk together.

     “I’m so sorry.” Taehyung cried on his shoulder. Jungkook nodded in understanding.

     “Jungkook.” Jimin called him in a whisper.

     The boy broke away from the embrace and directed his teary eyes to his best friend. “Please, tell me she’s okay.” He pleaded.

     It was Jimin’s turn to hug him tightly. “I don’t know.” He mumbled. “I really don’t know.”

     Hours slowly passed before someone finally came to speak to them. The three stood up all together when they saw the doctor coming, hearts thumping in their chests. Taehyung put a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, a gesture meant to support both of them.

     The words the man in the white coat had spoken were still ringing in Jungkook’s ears.

     “You should prepare yourselves.”

     Jungkook had laughed at him, an hysterical laugh that had him tumbling over his worried friends.

     Prepare himself for what?

     The tears came running down again soon after that as he felt the shock subside and the pain flow clearly through his veins. It was nothing like he ever felt before.

     “I can’t - I can’t - ”

     I can’t breathe.

     He felt like someone had put a hand through his rib cage, grabbed his heart in a fist and squeezed in punishment. Everything around him became muffled, his sight unclear and his ears ringing. He felt himself hyperventilate, dry sobs strangling his throat.

     “Jungkook!” Jimin and Taehyung called in alarm as they watched him lose his balance and fall knees first on the floor.

     If he closed his eyes he could see her. He could see her smiling at him, looking at him with loving eyes. He could feel her touch on his skin, her tight embrace or her gentle kiss.

     He remembered how she made him fill euphoric, loved and important. He remembered how she would call his name, sometimes lovingly, sometimes not.

     He was very well aware of how every happy moment in his life was related to her. And just as clearly, he was aware of the fact that every sad tear he had shed was for her.

     There was no other but Y/N. Jungkook had forgotten it for a bit, until it was too late.

     Yet it was clear as day now. There was no one but her. No other.

     If she dies, I die too.

I’m so late to this but thank you so so so much for recommending my fics!! 

jungkook pt. 4

Continua a leggere

That Time

3. That time I realized it was over

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook x Reader (female)

Genre Slice of Life AU | Angst

 Word count 2.6k

A/N This drabble collection will not be posted in chronological order.

©️ dfdph, 2022 - All rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

          When the alarm went off at exactly 7.00 o’clock Jungkook was already awake. He let it ring for a couple of seconds, listening to the annoying and acute sound before turning it off. He turned his head towards the window: the curtains were slightly open to let a few rays of sunshine enter the room.

           It was a habit of hers. She couldn’t sleep in total darkness.

           It looked like a beautiful summer day with the sky of a light blue and the sun slowly rising. If he concentrated a bit, he could hear some birds chirping good morning.

           He got up with a sigh and walked towards the bathroom. He emptied his bladder, rinsed his hands and washed his face. He looked at his reflection on the mirror: his facial hair was getting longer, it had now reached the point where it was more than a shadow over his chin.

           He didn’t mind. She always wanted to see him with a beard.

           He went back to his room to dress up: a simple dark suit and a white shirt. He put his nose to the collar, sniffed it a bit and frowned. It was clean, but smelled oddly different.

           His breakfast was just as simple: a cup of caffé latte and a slice of toasted bread with butter. He ate quickly and silently, casually scrolling through his Instagram home feed without really paying attention. He then washed the few dishes, carefully placing his clean navy blue mug next to her ruby red one.

           By 7.30 he was ready to leave the apartment.

           In less than twenty minutes he was at his office building’s underground parking lot, locking his car and walking upstairs towards the entrance hall. The elevator ride to the nineth floor was silent and lonely because, just like every morning, he was one of the firsts to arrive.

           His office was one of the biggest on the floor: one of the perks of being a partner of a big law firm. It was a position he achieved not too long ago, one of the very few good things that happened to him the past month.

           “Good morning, Mark.” He smiled at his long time secretary.

           “Good morning to you.” The guy called back standing up from his desk, papers already in his hands. “Busy day today.”

           Jungkook sighed. “Always is.”

           “First things first, Mr. Lee Jr wants to see you in half an hour. He personally came to my cubicle to ask for you just a few minutes ago.” They both rolled their eyes: a meeting with the boss’s son and wannabe president was often a waste of precious time. “At nine you have a meeting with the Kims for the merge case. Everything is ready, they just have to sign the last paper and we are ready to go. At 10.30 …”

           Mark continued to talk, but Jungkook wasn’t listening anymore. He sat down on his very comfortable faux leather seat, turned his back to the man and faced the full-length windows looking over the city. The view was objectively beautiful, one of the main reasons why he worked his ass off to get the promotion – besides the pay raise, of course – , but for some reason it didn’t bring joy to his heart as he thought it should have.

           “Oh, and J.” his secretary called him with the familiar nickname, grabbing Jungkook’s attention. “Jimin called me this morning, he said he tried to reach you all evening yesterday but you never answered.”

           Jungkook closed his eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the worried tone the man was unsuccessfully trying to hide. “Yeah, had a bit of stuff to do.” He replied vaguely.

           “He said he is picking you up at six for a drink and I quote: he’ll kick your ass if you don’t show up.”

           Jungkook smiled lightly. “Guess I have no choice then.”

           His day at work went slowly and uneventfully, but before Jungkook knew it, it was already time to go clock out and meet with his best friend, Jimin. A part of him – the same part that ignored his calls the day before – was dreading this moment. Despite the love he had for the boy, he was clearly the last person he wanted to see. He already knew what was going to happen, Jimin was so predictable.

           More than a month had passed since the day him and Y/N broke up. Or more exactly the day she stormed out of their apartment crying and he didn’t make a move to stop her.

           It was easy at first: the anger giving him energy and distracting him from the real thing, clouding his vision. He was angry at her for all the things she had said that night and all the nights before that; for the way she didn’t give him room to talk, just like she always did when they spoke about serious stuff. He was angry at her for running away, for the words she said while doing so. They sounded so childish back then, but now … Now they were the most painful memory Jungkook had.

           It didn’t take long for the sensation of loss to replace the anger. He felt lost without her. She was everywhere even if she wasn’t physically there.

           She was in every single object in their once shared apartment: in the red mug next to his, in the embroidered initials on their towel sets, in the dying orchids in the living room. She was in all of his habits: in the way he slept with the curtains open or in the way he only had bread with butter for breakfast now because she was the one who cooked him bacon and eggs.

           He never realized how everything in his life was so deeply linked to her and how at loss he felt alone in the heavy silence of their bedroom, the sheets smelling different than they used to.

           When he slept it was on the right side of the bed because the left was hers, when he woke up in the morning it was because of the white digital clock she bought at Ikea, when he drove to work it was in the car they chose together. When he looked up from his computer in his office it was to look at photographs of her and them together over the years, and when he unlocked his phone it was to see the picture he took of her smile.

           He had thought about calling her more than once, even more than he cared to admit. But some force always prevented him to do so. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just stupidity.

           So the last person he wanted to see today was indeed his best friend Jimin – bubbly, caring, loving Jimin, who knew him way too well, even better than himself. He knew that he was out in a mission: make him admit his feelings, whether good or bad, because he was not a fan of bottling things up. And he was probably going to make him question all of his life choices – more than he was already doing.

           The thirty second elevator ride down to the entrance hall was dreadful as Jungkook battled between running away and the guilt of thinking to do so. Thirty seconds was too short anyways to take a decision, because before he knew it the doors opened and there he was, face to face with Jimin. As if he knew what he was thinking – and he probably did – the boy had waited in front of the elevator, giving him no chance to escape.

           “Gotcha!” he exclaimed, arms crossed over his chest, a sly smile curving his lips.

           Jungkook couldn’t but sigh in defeat.

           “I still don’t understand why you are giving up.” Jimin was saying looking at his friend as he sulkily played with the almost empty glass of whiskey. Of course, he was not one to waste his time and poke around things. “I mean, we are here at six thirty getting drunk with expensive whisky. Clearly, there’s something wrong.”

           Jungkook sighed once again. “I know.”

           “Do you love her?” Jimin asked carefully.

           The other froze. It was the question he dreaded the most. He couldn’t answer.

           “I know you do.” Jimin smiled sadly. “It’s as clear as day.”

           “Is it really?” Jungkook asked quietly, finally finding the courage to voice his fears. “Do I really love her? What if it was only … habit?”

           “Don’t be ridiculous. It was not habit and you know it.”

           “No, I don’t.” Jungkook insisted with furrowed brows. “We … didn’t know.”

           There was a pause as Jimin collected his thoughts. “Is that the reason why you broke up?”

            “One of the, I guess.” Jungkook shrugged.

           “What was it then?”

           “I don’t know …” The man whispered. “We’ve been fighting a lot for … for a lot of things. And … at one point I just didn’t have the energy to fight her anymore.” It was scary admitting these things out loud, but it was a relief as well. Jungkook knew deep down he needed this. “And that night it was the last straw … so when she left … I let her go.”

           Jimin took a sip of his drink, measuring up his next words. “And don’t you regret it?”

           “I don’t know.” Jungkook answered sincerely. “I wasn’t lying when saying I’m not sure it was love anymore. It’s just … we’ve been together for so long, we grew up together, lived through so much together … but what if we care so much about each other and because of it we can’t see that it’s just that … care, care and not love.” As he shared his thoughts Jungkook felt the heavy burden on his heart being slightly lifted and the sensation was so pleasurable that he wanted more. So he kept talking. “There were days that I didn’t want to see her.” He confessed. “There were times that I didn’t want to hear her voice. It’s just that it has been really stressful at work and it is not an excuse, I know that, but the fact that after a hard day the least I wanted to see was my girlfriend made me think.”

           Jimin looked at his friend as if he was some stranger. Nothing of what he had said made sense to him. Being great friends with both Jungkook and Y/N he thought he knew everything about them. If someone asked him a month ago if he believed in true love he would have answered yes and he would have given them as an example. Jungkook who didn’t love Y/N? That was bullshit.

           “And now? Now that you don’t see her anymore … don’t you miss her?”

           Jungkook sat in silence, the heavy burden back with all its weight on his chest. Of course he did. He nodded. “But what if-”

           “What if what?” Jimin interrupted him. “What if it was the habit?” Jungkook nodded. “I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.” Jimin shook his head. “It’s true that I didn’t have a single idea that something wrong was going on between you two, but I saw the way you looked at each other, for years, even when the other wasn’t looking and that … that is definitely not habit.” He exclaimed.

           Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, thinking about his words. The times he had asked himself that same question were uncountable, before but especially after she left that evening a month ago. He also asked himself why didn’t he stopped her when she left, why didn’t he fight for her and why he still doesn’t. If he really did love her, if it really was true love, then why doesn’t he leave that bar right at that moment and run to her and beg her to be with him once again?

           The answer, as it often happens in situations like these, was right in front of his eyes.

           For a second, a part of him thought it funny how destiny – or whatever – seemed to have been listening to their conversation, because there was no reason whatsoever for him to see Y/N again, in that bar randomly chosen by Jimin, after over a month nonetheless.

           The moment after felt like someone had stabbed his right arm, not deadly but painful enough that he wished it was. He thought that hearing her say she hated him as she left him was the worst memory he could ever have, but he was wrong.

           It was this. It was watching her laugh with tears in her eyes, a hand on her stomach and the other on some man’s bicep.

           He wanted to look away but it was as if he was frozen. He really didn’t want to see any of it but not a single muscle in his body moved. And so he watched. He watched as the unknown man laughed as well and leaned towards her, as she didn’t shy away from his vicinity and as he put a hand on her left knee. She had her hair cut, way shorter than she usually did, and wore a summer dress unfamiliar to him which, for some reason, added fuel to the pain he was already feeling.

           Maybe it was because he always liked her in dresses or maybe because she wasn’t wearing it for him but for someone else. Or maybe it was because he couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that with him.

           When was the last time he made her laugh? When was the last time they were happy together?

           And all of a sudden he unfroze: before he knew it he was standing up, startling Jimin who had just caught glimpse of the same scene, and running out of the bar and around the corner of the building. He leaned against the wall, a hand over his chest. He was hyperventilating, his eyes were blurry – maybe for the lack of oxygen or for the tears that he could feel forming in his eyes.

           “Oh my God, Jungkook!” Jimin, who caught up with him, exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

           The man violently shook his head, blindly looking for him with a hand. Jimin readily grabbed it before giving him a tight hug, trying to calm him down.

           “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” The boy sang trying to not tumble under the weight of his semi-conscious friend. “It’s okay.”

           For the first time since he could remember, Jungkook cried. He cried like he never had before, violent sobs shaking his body and pained whimpers coming out of his lips.

And as he felt him clinging onto his back, Jimin couldn’t help but tear up as well, because he never saw his friend like this. It was as if someone had died.

And in a way maybe it did. Because what Jungkook was feeling wasn’t simple jealousy, it was loss: loss of someone who had been such a crucial part of his existence, of something – he was just now realizing – he took for granted.

The past month he had been living in denial, he could clearly see it now. And as he wasted time asking himself stupid and unnecessary questions, Y/N seemed to have found her answers.

           The conclusion was simple. “It’s over.”

Updated: May 2, 2022

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