I Have NO Words...

i have NO words...

woke up to a yoongi update but at what cost

tempted (유혹) — park jimin (박지민)

✧.* 18+

love, in its purest form, was an ethereal dance between two souls that transcended the physical realm. it was the whispered secret shared between the stars and the moon, the silent promise that echoed in the heartbeats of those destined to find one another. soulmates were not just lovers but mirrors reflecting the deepest parts of ourselves—our hopes, fears, dreams, and shadows. they were the gentle caress in the quiet moments, the unwavering support in times of turmoil, and the spark that ignited the fire within us to be more, to feel more, to live more.

the bond between soulmates was an intricate tapestry woven with threads of fate, time, and serendipity. each thread represented a moment, a memory, a shared breath that brought them closer together, intertwining their lives in ways that defied logic and reason. it was a connection felt in the marrow of one's bones, a magnetic pull that drew two individuals together despite the miles, the years, the obstacles that lay between them.

but as we looked closer, we began to see the delicate, almost fragile nature of this connection. love, we realized, was a mere feeling—a powerful, all-consuming emotion, yet still a feeling. it was something that existed in the softest corners of our hearts, in the whispered three words, and the stolen glances, and yet it was fleeting, ephemeral. it was an entity that could lift us to the heavens one moment and leave us stranded in the abyss the next. love was something existent yet nonexistent, a paradox that defined the human experience.

in the end, love was a feeling—nothing more, nothing less. it was a sensation that, while real and profound, was also transient, capable of fading away like the morning mist. love was, and always would be, a testament to the beauty and fragility of human connection.

but what good did that do, when you didn't believe in it? you watched your parents' marriage crumble, each piece of their once-shared life falling apart like a house of cards in a storm. the warmth that had once filled your home turned cold, replaced by silence and resentment. you spent most of your life blaming your mother, seeing her as the catalyst for the disintegration of the love you once knew. her actions, her decisions, her words—all seemed to be the threads unraveling the fabric of your family.

yet, as time went on, you began to see the truth more clearly. in the end, it took two to tango. your father was not without fault; his silence, his absence, his own choices played just as significant a role. the love that once seemed unbreakable had been weakened by both their hands, by misunderstandings and unmet needs, by the slow erosion of patience and kindness. it was a dance they both had learned to stumble through, each step further away from harmony.

the corridors of your new school stretched before you like a labyrinth of polished floors and pristine walls, echoing with the muted whispers of privilege. this high-end, private institution was a realm of immaculate uniforms and designer handbags, a place where status was measured not just by wealth but by the veneer of propriety. you had the fortune to attend this school because of your mother's money, a privilege that came with its own set of burdens. with more money came higher prices, not just in currency but in reputation and expectation.

you had transferred there, seeking refuge from the torment that had plagued your previous school. the memories of harassment lingered like shadows in your mind. the taunts of those girls echoed in your ears, their voices dripping with cruelty. “look at her, the daughter of a hostess. like mother, like daughter, huh?” their words were knives, each one aimed to cut deeper than the last. you remembered the sting of cold water as your head was dunked in the sink, the bitter taste of humiliation as you struggled to breathe. your locker had been defaced with vile words—“slut,” “whore,” “like mother like daughter”—each insult scrawled in angry letters. and the final blow, the moment that broke your resolve, was when your lunch was dumped on you in the cafeteria, laughter ringing in your ears as you stood there, drenched in shame.

the move had been meant to be a fresh start, a chance to escape the ghosts of your past. but even here, the whispers never ceased. as you walked down the halls, you could hear them, soft and insidious, just out of reach. your friend, walked beside you, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of judgment. “ignore them,” she would say, her voice steady. “most of their families are involved in worse things.” you nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine,” you told her, even as the whispers brushed against your skin like a cold breeze.

jisoo’s eyes flickered to the designer handbag slung over your shoulder. “nice bag,” she complimented, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “thanks,” you replied, your smile small but sincere.

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you know, money isn’t forever. you should consider getting engaged soon.” you shook your head, the idea almost laughable. “no way. i don’t believe in love. it doesn’t exist.”

jisoo raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eye. “duh. why do you think people get married for money?” the absurdity of it all brought laughter to your lips, a rare sound in the cold halls of this school. the two of you laughed together, a moment of genuine connection amidst the façade. you walked down the halls side by side, her presence a reminder that even in the midst of whispers and judgment, there were still moments of light to hold onto.

jimin stood basking in the midday sun, the golden rays highlighting the flawless contours of his face. he was surrounded by his friends, an entourage of privileged and spoiled teenagers who reveled in their own opulence. among them was his girlfriend and the undisputed queen of their circle. sua thrived on attention, money, and the luxuries that her wealth afforded her. her laugh was a sharp, crystalline sound, slicing through the air as she regaled her audience with yet another tale of her extravagant exploits.

it was then that you walked by, your presence commanding a quiet elegance that contrasted starkly with the raucous group. the sunlight caressed your features, illuminating your every step with a radiance that caught jimin's eye. he watched you, his gaze unyielding, captivated by the sight of you moving through the world with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. “who’s that?” one of his friends asked, breaking the spell as his curious eyes followed jimin’s line of sight.

sua’s eyes narrowed as she traced jimin’s unwavering gaze. her expression faltered, and a wave of unease washed over her. the pit of her stomach dropped as she laid eyes on you. scoffing, she tried to mask her discomfort with disdain. “you must be living under a rock if you don’t know who that is.” her words only heightened the tension among the group. jimin’s friend looked genuinely puzzled. “who?”

with a withering look, she introduced your name, her tone dripping with condescension. “that’s the daughter of the hostess club owner. her mother used to work there too.” disbelief rippled through the group. whispers spread like wildfire, but jimin’s gaze remained locked on you, unblinking, as if you were the only person in the world. “you’re serious?” his friend’s voice was incredulous.

sua continued, her voice louder now, tinged with a cruel satisfaction. “yeah, her mother owned an underground hostess club. it was part of poseidon hotel until it got shut down. then her husband divorced her.” the shock among their friends was palpable. “what’s she doing here, then?”

she scoffed, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “she must’ve thought this school was a safe haven.” she paused, a sneer curling her lips. “but she’s dead wrong.”

jimin barely registered a word she said. his focus was entirely on you, a smile slowly forming on his lips. he watched you as you walked, each step you took reinforcing his fascination. in that moment, you were the epitome of resilience and grace, a stark contrast to the superficiality surrounding him. and as the whispers and judgments swirled around him, he found himself more drawn to you than ever, intrigued by the story that lay beneath your serene exterior.

as you walked through the sunlit halls, a sense of calm washed over you despite the whispers and sideways glances. you were accustomed to the stares, the judgment, the endless cycle of whispers that followed you like a shadow. yet, as you moved forward, you felt a pair of eyes on you that seemed different—intense, unwavering.

you turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. jimin’s gaze was piercing, a curious mix of intrigue and admiration. his presence was magnetic, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. the noise, the whispers, the world—it all seemed to vanish as you locked eyes with him. “jisoo, who is that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

she glanced in the direction you were looking and scoffed, her disdain evident. “that’s jimin. son of park and co.,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “he’s obnoxious, selfish, and a complete pain in the ass. not to mention, he’s dating kang sua. they’re both equally corrupt—a match made in heaven.” you glanced back at him, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you. his friends, taehyung and jaebum, were laughing and joking around him, their behavior loud and almost childlike. jisoo noticed the way your gaze lingered on jimin and sighed.

“look,” she said, her voice firm, “keep your distance from him. his type is nothing but trouble.” the bell rang, signaling the end of your brief moment of curiosity. she tugged gently at your arm, her voice softening. “come on, it’s time for class.”

you followed her, your thoughts lingering on jimin’s gaze and the strange connection you felt in that brief moment. the halls were bustling with students heading to their next classes, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the encounter over and over. jisoo kept talking, her voice a steady stream of background noise as she led you through the corridors. “trust me, you don’t want to get involved with him or his friends. they’re all bad news.”

you nodded absently, but the memory of his eyes—intense and unwavering—remained with you. as you took your seat in the classroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complex and intertwined than you could have ever anticipated.

class began, and the room settled into a hush as the professor walked to the front and began writing on the board. her chalk traced out a single word in elegant, flowing script. love. the silence deepened as she turned to face the class, her expression thoughtful. “today, we’ll discuss the principle of love,” she announced, her voice carrying a gentle authority. “i want to hear your opinions, your experiences, your definitions. love is complex, multifaceted, and personal. let’s start with you, kang sua.”

sua straightened in her seat, her demeanor poised and confident. “love conquers all,” she declared, her voice smooth and rehearsed. “it’s the most powerful force in the world. when you truly love someone, you can overcome any obstacle together.” the professor nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “thank you, sua. that’s a very traditional perspective.” she turned to another student. “jung jisoo, how about you?”

she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “love is just a contract. there should be money involved to make it worthwhile,” she quipped, earning a ripple of laughter from the class. the professor chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “always the pragmatist, jisoo. alright, park jimin, what’s your take on love?”

his gaze was still fixed on you, his eyes unreadable. “love is cruel, blind, and unexpected,” he said, his voice steady and low. “especially at first sight.” sua scoffed next to him, her irritation evident, but he didn’t waver, his eyes never leaving yours. the professor’s eyes followed jimin’s gaze to you, and she smiled warmly. “and what about our new student? would you like to share your thoughts on love?”

you felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you as you stood up, but you kept your composure. “love is just an illusion,” you began, your voice soft but clear. “it’s a beautiful, intricate mirage that we chase, believing it will fulfill us. but in the end, it’s fleeting and fragile, existing only as long as we believe in it. it's precisely why we shouldn't believe in it.” the room was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. the professor nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “thank you. such a variety of perspectives. love truly is a complex subject.”

as you took your seat, you turned slightly and locked eyes with jimin. his expression softened, and he offered you a sweet smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. next to him, sua’s glare was sharp and unyielding, her eyes filled with a mix of jealousy and disdain. the rest of the class passed in a blur, your thoughts tangled with the exchange of ideas and the intensity of jimin’s gaze. the whispers and judgments seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a new, inexplicable connection that left you feeling both intrigued and wary.

the bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through the classroom. students began to gather their belongings, the hum of conversation rising as they prepared to exit. you stood up, feeling the weight of their lingering gazes, and gathered your books. as you moved towards the door, you caught sight of sua stopping jimin, her manicured hand lightly gripping his arm.

“jimin, wait,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with irritation. he paused, turning to face her. she adjusted the collar of his shirt, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “you seemed to be lost in thought at the sight of her,” she remarked, her glare piercing. “is she that pretty?”

he shook his head slightly, his expression guarded. “it’s not that,” he replied, his voice calm. her lips curled into a thin smile. “a shame, because i had a proposal for you.”

his curiosity was piqued. “what is it?”

sua tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. “do you love me?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. his gaze softened. “of course, i do.”

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “then if you love me, you’ll do me this favor.” his brows furrowed. “what do you want?”

her eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. “the hostess’s daughter seemed to have a poor outlook on love,” she began, her words dripping with malice. “tempt her, make her feel loved.” jimin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “are you serious?”

her smile grew colder. “tempt her, and break her down even more,” she continued, her voice unwavering. “only if you love me.”

jimin hesitated, his gaze searching her face. “why do you hate her so much?” he asked quietly. her expression darkened, her eyes briefly clouded with an emotion she quickly masked. “don’t worry about it,” she replied, her tone dismissive. “i just need to know whose side you’re on.”

his jaw tightened, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. after a moment, he nodded. “alright, sua. i’ll do my best.” her smile returned, her grip on his arm loosening. “good,” she said, satisfaction evident in her voice. “that’s all i needed to hear.”

as they walked out of the classroom together, you watched them, unaware of the twisted plan unfolding. jimin’s eyes met yours one last time, his expression unreadable, while sua’s glare remained cold and calculating. the weight of the coming days hung heavily in the air, the delicate balance of your new life poised on the edge of a precipice.

as you walked towards the bathroom, the bustling noise of the school faded behind you. the bathroom was a surprising oasis of cleanliness and elegance, its marble countertops and polished fixtures starkly contrasting with the chaos you had just left. you approached the mirror, touching up your makeup with practiced precision, the brush of lipstick creating a vivid red against your lips.

the sound of heels clicking on the tiled floor interrupted your solitude. you glanced up in the reflection and saw sua’s cold, piercing gaze meeting yours. she walked with deliberate steps to the sink beside yours, her movements graceful and deliberate. she pulled out a tube of lipstick from her designer makeup set and began applying it with the same meticulous care you had shown moments before.

her eyes flickered to you, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “dior?” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “expensive lipstick. seems like you have taste.” you met her gaze in the mirror, lifting an eyebrow. “yeah, seems like you do too,” you replied, nodding towards her own luxurious makeup set.

for a brief moment, her expression softened, and she gave you a polite nod. “thank you,” she said, the hint of warmth in her voice seeming almost genuine. but her demeanor changed abruptly, the warmth vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “only mine wasn’t bought with the money of a whore,” she added, her voice laced with venom. “can you believe it?”

without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels clicking sharply as she disappeared down the hallway. you stood frozen, the sting of her words lingering as you stared at your reflection, struggling to process the encounter. as you made your way towards your locker, trying to shake off the shock, you heard a new voice call out behind you. “ignore her. she isn’t worth it.”

you turned to find jimin approaching, a smile on his face that seemed almost too genuine. you raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in your gaze. “that’s not a nice thing to say about your girlfriend.” his smile widened, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “she isn’t my girlfriend, can you believe it?” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement.

you stared at him, disbelief etched on your face. “she isn’t?” jimin shook his head. “no, she was nothing more than a friend. nothing more,” he reiterated, his tone casual but loaded with meaning.

you nodded slowly, taking in the revelation. the weight of his words settled over you, but before you could respond, he continued. “i heard your speech in class. isn’t that a bit pessimistic of you?” you scoffed, shaking your head slightly. “there’s a difference between pessimism and realism,” you said, your voice carrying an edge of finality. with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, your thoughts swirling with the day’s events. he watched you leave, his smile fading into a thoughtful expression. the challenge of seducing you, he realized, was more complex than he had anticipated.

as you navigated the bustling halls and classrooms of your new school, jimin's presence remained a constant, subtle influence. each encounter seemed to unravel new layers of his enigmatic demeanor. one afternoon, you dropped your pencil as you were collecting your things from your desk. jimin, who had been seated nearby, swiftly picked it up and extended it towards you with a polite smile.

“you dropped this,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of genuine warmth. “thank you,” you replied, accepting the pencil. the gesture, though small, felt surprisingly considerate.

a few days later, you were walking through the school courtyard when jimin approached you. his gaze lingered on your hair, which had been styled into soft waves that day. “your hair looks great today,” he said casually, his voice smooth and appreciative. “it suits you.” you glanced at him, taken aback by the compliment. “thanks,” you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

later that week, as you were struggling with a particularly heavy door while juggling your books, he appeared beside you, effortlessly holding the door open. “need some help?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze steady. you nodded, murmuring a grateful “yes, please,” as you passed through the door. he held it open until you were safely through, his smile never wavering. “no problem,” he said, his tone as warm as his smile.

despite his seemingly small acts of chivalry, you remained cautious, unsure of his true intentions. as the sun began to set, you walked home with jisoo by your side. the day’s interactions with jimin weighed heavily on your mind. jisoo turned to you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “i can’t believe he was—so nice to you,” she said, her brows furrowing. “and he said he isn’t dating sua?”

you nodded, still processing the events. “yeah, he told me he wasn’t dating her. it was surprising.” she shook her head, her skepticism evident. “i swear i saw them holding hands. maybe i was wrong. it’s hard to keep track of everyone’s alliances here.”

as you neared your home, the familiar, somewhat shabby house came into view. jisoo practically burst through the door, greeting your mother with a burst of enthusiasm. “hi, mrs. (l/n)! it’s so good to see you!” your mother looked up from her work, her expression softening slightly as she took in jisoo’s exuberance. “at least one of you is happy to see me,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

you forced a smile, though the tension between you and your mother still lingered beneath the surface. her activities had tainted the perception others had of you, casting a long shadow over your life. though you had ceased to resent her, the scars of the past remained. your mother turned to jisoo, her demeanor brightening. “are you staying the night?”

she nodded enthusiastically, her smile radiant. “yes, i am. i’ll help with lunch, too.” as she hugged you warmly, you couldn’t help but appreciate her presence. her support was a comforting constant in the whirlwind of your new life. the door closed behind you, the evening settling into a quiet rhythm of familiarity and routine, punctuated by the soft, reassuring hum of home.

the aroma of homemade dishes filled the kitchen as you, jisoo, and your mother gathered around the dining table. the meal was a comforting array of flavors, a stark contrast to the coldness of the school environment. laughter and the clinking of cutlery provided a soothing background to the conversation.

jisoo broke the comfortable silence, in a lively manner. “oh, by the way, i almost forgot to tell you,” she began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she turned to your mother. “your daughter has a not-so-secret admirer.”

you shot her a warning glance, your cheeks flushing slightly. “knock it off,” you warned, trying to downplay the remark. your mother, who had been quietly enjoying her meal, looked up with an intrigued expression. “really?” she asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and surprise. “who is it?”

you shrugged, attempting to brush off the topic. “it’s nobody important. he was just being nice.” your mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “being nice is more than enough given the reputation our family has. who is it?”

jisoo chimed in before you could intervene. “it’s park jimin, the son of park and co.” at the mention of the name, your mother’s expression shifted noticeably. her eyes widened slightly, and a fleeting look of discomfort crossed her face. “is that true?” she asked, her voice laced with apprehension.

you shook your head, feeling a pang of frustration as you shot jisoo a stern glare. “he’s just being nice, mom. nothing more.” your mother’s expression remained tense, and she murmured, almost to herself, “let’s hope that’s all it is.” you chose not to press the issue further, sensing that there was more to her reaction than she was willing to share. the conversation veered back to more mundane topics, but the earlier unease lingered in the air.

as the meal continued, your phone buzzed on the table, drawing your attention. you glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. the text was brief, its content ambiguous: “you looked gorgeous today.” your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a rush of curiosity mixed with apprehension. the timing was too coincidental, given the conversation you’d just had. you stared at the message for a moment, trying to process the sudden shift in your day.

jisoo noticed your distraction and leaned in, her curiosity evident. “who’s that?” you hesitated before replying, “it’s just someone from school.” you kept your tone casual, though the tension of the moment was hard to ignore. your mother looked at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity, but she didn’t press further. the conversation resumed, but the atmosphere had changed subtly. the content of the message weighed on your mind, leaving you to ponder.

as the evening settled into a calm hush, you retreated to your room, a sanctuary of tranquility amidst the day's turmoil. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. jisoo, lounging comfortably on your bed, was indulging in a face mask, her eyes peeking out from behind the mask’s fabric.

you sat at your desk, absorbed in the glow of your laptop screen, fingers poised over the keyboard. the message from jimin lingered in your mind, and you began typing a reply, seeking clarity. “how did you get my number?” you inquired, your fingers hesitating slightly as you considered the implications of his response.

from her spot on the bed, jisoo watched you intently, her curiosity barely contained. “so, who’s the mysterious texter?” she asked, her voice muffled by the mask. you sighed, glancing at her. “it’s jimin. somehow, he managed to get my number.”

her eyes widened in surprise, and she adjusted her face mask, which had slipped askew. “how'd he get your number? do you have any idea?” you shook your head. “that’s what i’m trying to figure out.”

the reply from jimin arrived almost immediately. the message was as enigmatic as ever: “a gentleman never reveals his tricks.” you chuckled softly at the message, finding a hint of amusement in his playful secrecy. jisoo, intrigued, leaned closer. “did he reply?”

you nodded, reading out his words. “he said, ‘a gentleman never reveals his tricks.’” her eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “what a psycho. what if he’s watching us right now?”

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “lay off the slasher movies. i’m sure he’s not lurking around.” you climbed into bed next to her, feeling the comfort of her presence.

her face was a mask of worry, despite the relaxation of the evening. “i’m serious,” she said, her voice earnest. “you should really avoid people like him. they’re trouble.” you turned on your side to face her, the warmth of the room contrasting with the tension of your conversation. “there’s something about him that draws me in,” you admitted, your voice soft but resolute.

she scoffed, her expression both teasing and concerned. “it’s just hormones. you’re probably caught up in the excitement of it all. maybe you should consider visiting a priest or something.” you gave her a playful shove, though her words resonated with a kernel of truth. “oh, come on. it’s not that serious.” despite the light-hearted banter, a part of you recognized the challenge of avoiding someone like jimin. his presence, enigmatic and alluring, had already begun to weave itself into the fabric of your daily life, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the pull he exerted on you.

the morning sun cast a golden glow over the school's fields as students gathered for their physical education class. the crisp air carried with it a sense of anticipation and a touch of chill. you walked alongside jisoo, who was grumbling with an exaggerated sigh. “running around at eight in the morning is basically child slavery,” she complained, her voice dripping with melodrama.

you chuckled, finding amusement in her theatrics. “use that for your college essay. sounds like a hit.” she shot you a playful glare before returning to her grumbling. “and these skirts are way too short for this kind of weather. i can practically feel my ovaries freezing.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you should sell them while they’re frozen.” as you approached the equipment, your gaze fell upon jimin. he stood on the court in a crisp white shirt and sweatpants, the sunlight highlighting the confident smile on his lips as he noticed you. you met his gaze with a smile of your own, but jisoo’s whining pulled you back to the present. “that’s not a bad idea,” she muttered as you both moved to grab the tennis rackets.

the field was soon filled with the rhythmic thwack of tennis balls and the shuffling of sneakers against the ground. you and jisoo took your positions, the coach calling out encouragements and praise as you warmed up, suggesting you to join the team. you excelled at tennis, each stroke precise and powerful, as though the sport was second nature to you. the coach’s praise was a testament to your skill, and he urged you to consider joining the team. jisoo, panting slightly, looked at you with a mix of admiration and exhaustion. “you should definitely do it,” she encouraged, her voice earnest.

before you could offer her help, a voice interrupted your concentration. you turned to see jimin standing nearby, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. “star player,” he called out, “how about you play against me?” surprise flickered across your face, but you nodded, accepting the challenge. the students gathered around, their murmurs and cheers creating a buzz of excitement in the air. the court became a stage, with the intensity of the match drawing everyone’s attention.

the game began, and you and jimin faced each other across the net. his movements were fluid and graceful, but there was a distinct edge to his play—a blend of skill and a hint of showmanship. each serve he delivered was precise, each return a test of your agility and strategy. you matched him stroke for stroke, your rackets slicing through the air with practiced ease. his eyes never left you as the match progressed. he adapted to your style, countering your moves with surprising finesse. the rally between you was a dance of athleticism and precision, the sound of the ball against the racket a rhythmic accompaniment to the growing tension. sweat glistened on both your foreheads as the game pushed both of you to your limits.

in a final, exhilarating exchange, you executed a perfect cross-court shot that jimin couldn’t quite reach. the ball landed just inside the boundary, and the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers blending into a single, enthusiastic roar.

he approached you, his smile genuine and admiring. “congrats,” he said, his voice warm. “you really are the star player.” you met his gaze, smiling in return. “you’re the star opponent.”

jisoo, standing beside you, couldn’t resist a final jab. “looks like he finally found something he sucks at,” she scoffed, her tone playful. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he joined his friends.

you and jisoo sat in the bustling cafeteria, the noise of lunchtime chatter surrounding you. as you indulged in your lunch, you both found yourselves engrossed in a seemingly pointless debate. “so, if you could choose between never having to sleep again or never needing to eat again, which would you pick?” she asked, her tone light and her gaze almost empty-headed.

you considered it for a moment before responding, “definitely never needing to eat again. imagine all the time you’d save.” she laughed, shaking her head. “think of all the delicious food you’d miss out on. i’d choose sleep, no contest.”

as you continued your discussion, sua and her entourage swept into the cafeteria, their presence commanding attention. her eyes narrowed when she spotted you, a smirk spreading across her lips. she strode over with an air of practiced arrogance, her friends trailing behind. without a word, she plopped down across from you, her eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and disdain. jisoo, clearly unimpressed, looked up from her meal. “what do you want?”

her smile widened, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “up to your friend. is bottle service included?” the cafeteria buzzed with murmurs and sidelong glances, the scene quickly drawing attention. you raised an eyebrow, matching her tone with a taunting edge. “how about a lap dance? is that enough?”

her expression darkened, her eyes flashing with irritation. “you seem cheap enough for one,” she snapped. with a sudden, aggressive motion, she pushed your tray onto your lap, sending your food tumbling onto your clothes. the sudden mess caused a gasp to ripple through the nearby tables. jisoo’s face turned pale with anger. “you must be out of your mind,” she growled, her voice trembling with rage.

before she could escalate the situation further, the cafeteria fell into an uneasy silence as jimin walked in, his presence instantly commanding attention. he scanned the room, his eyes quickly locking onto the commotion at your table. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of authority. sua’s lips curled into a smirk as she replied, “just closing a deal.”

his gaze flickered between sua and you, a look of concern crossing his features. without waiting for her response, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. his tone was firm and edged with frustration. “are you done here?” she huffed, her expression defiant. “i haven’t even started.”

jimin glanced back at your table, his eyes searching for you, but you had already stood up, brushing off the remnants of food from your clothes and gathering your things. you felt jisoo’s concerned gaze on you as you hurriedly made your way out of the cafeteria. he turned back to sua, his expression serious. “tone it down,” he said tersely. he began to follow in your direction, his concern palpable.

as he followed you, the cafeteria’s murmur of astonishment faded into the background, leaving you to navigate the hallways with a mixture of determination and unease. jisoo stayed close behind, her presence a comforting reminder of the support you had. you didn’t stick around to see what happened next. you slipped out of the cafeteria, the humiliation burning in your cheeks. you found yourself in an empty hallway, scrubbing at the stains on your skirt and blouse with a moist tissue. the tears threatened to spill over, but you fought them back, determined not to let sua win.

“you’re doing it wrong.”

the voice startled you, and you looked up to see jimin approaching. he knelt beside you, gently taking the tissue from your hand. “let me,” he said softly, wiping your uniform with surprising precision and gentleness. “she’s just jealous of you, you know,” he murmured as he worked.

you scoffed, shaking your head. “she has nothing to be jealous of.” he glanced up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “that’s what you think.”

you watched him, the way his hands moved with careful attention, and a strange sensation stirred within you. it was something you couldn’t quite name, something warm and fluttering in your chest and stomach. “why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “given my reputation and all.”

he paused, his eyes meeting yours. “everyone has their flaws,” he said simply. he smiled again, a genuine, heartwarming smile. “it wouldn’t be fair for such a pretty girl to have no flaws, right?” the unexpected compliment made you feel a rush of emotions. you couldn’t help but smile back at him, the warmth spreading through you. his kindness felt like a beacon of light in your turbulent world, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

the biology classroom buzzed with the low hum of student chatter, the scent of textbooks and lingering antiseptic filling the air. you took your seat beside jisoo, still feeling the sting of the cafeteria incident, though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. she leaned over, her voice a quiet murmur. “are you okay? i swear, i’ll kill her for what she did.”

you managed a small smile, the ghost of amusement flickering in your eyes. “i’m fine. i’ll even help you hide the body.” she grinned, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. before either of you could say more, the professor strode into the room, commanding immediate attention. he was a tall, thin man with a perpetually serious expression, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

“good afternoon, class,” he began, his voice cutting through the remaining whispers. “today, we’re starting a new project, one that will make up half of your final grade.” a collective groan rippled through the room, jisoo’s being the loudest.

“i hate science,” she muttered beside you. “everyone should just turn to God instead.” you might have laughed at her comment, but your attention was elsewhere. across the room, jimin sat with a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours. the connection was brief but charged, a silent exchange that made your heart skip a beat.

the professor continued, oblivious to the undercurrents running through his classroom. “this project will involve both theoretical research and practical application. you will be studying various biological processes and their implications. each pair will be assigned a specific topic, which you’ll need to explore in depth. your presentation should include a detailed report and a demonstration of your findings.”

as he spoke, you barely registered his words, your mind preoccupied with the inexplicable pull towards jimin. it wasn’t until jisoo’s exaggerated whine broke through your thoughts that you snapped back to reality. “that’s not fair,” she protested. you turned to her, puzzled. “what are you talking about?”

her eyes were wide with disbelief as she leaned closer. “you’ve been partnered up with jimin.” your gaze flicked back to him, who was still looking at you with that infuriatingly soft smile. the professor’s voice droned on, repeating the importance of the project and its significant impact on your final grade.

next to jimin, sua scoffed loudly enough for those nearby to hear. “you must be ecstatic,” she spat. he turned to her, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

she sneered, her eyes cold. “i see the way you look at her.” his frustration was evident as he shot back, “i’m only doing what you wanted.” her sneer deepened, but there was something in her eyes, a flicker of something almost like hurt, that she quickly masked with disdain. the tension between them was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel caught in the crossfire of their unspoken conflict.

as the class went on, the professor handed out assignment sheets, detailing the topics and expectations for each pair. you glanced at the paper, trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to jimin. there was something about him, something beyond his charming smile and easy demeanor, that intrigued you. after class, jisoo grabbed your arm, her expression a mix of worry and excitement. “are you okay with this? i mean, working with him?”

you nodded slowly, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “i guess i don’t have much of a choice, do i?” she sighed, shaking her head. “just be careful, okay? i don’t trust him. or sua, for that matter.”

you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “i’ll be fine. it’s just a project.” but even as you said the words, you knew that it was more than just a project. it was an entanglement, a thread pulling you deeper into a web of intrigue and emotion. and as you walked out of the classroom, jimin’s gaze followed you, a silent promise of complications yet to come.

the library was a sanctuary of quiet, filled with the scent of old books and the soft rustling of pages turning. you wandered the aisles, collecting the necessary books for your biology project, the weight of their knowledge promising to lighten your academic burden. reaching for a particularly thick volume on a high shelf, you stretched on your toes, your fingers just grazing the spine when a hand reached up beside yours and plucked it effortlessly.

turning to protest, you found yourself face to face with jimin. he handed you the book with a small, teasing smile. “here you go,” he said. “thanks,” you replied, taking the book and trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. you moved to find a table, and he followed, his presence a constant, warm shadow.

as you settled into your seats, he broke the silence. “i have to admit, i don’t know much about biology. to be honest, it’s all a bit of a mystery to me.” you laughed, the sound light and genuine. “don’t worry, i’ll get you through it.”

you opened the books and began taking notes, trying to focus on the complex terms and diagrams. jimin, however, seemed more interested in watching you. every so often, you’d catch him glancing your way, a soft, thoughtful look in his eyes. at one point, he peered over your shoulder, reading aloud from the book.

“‘oxytocin,’” he said, his voice low and smooth, “‘a hormone that contributes to the biological process that stimulates the feeling of love.’” for a second, your eyes met, and a rush of warmth spread through you. you tried to push past it, scoffing lightly. “see? it’s just hormones.”

he leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eyes. “you really don’t believe in love, do you?” you hesitated, the question cutting deeper than you expected. shaking your head, you tried to muster a nonchalant response. “not really.”

his curiosity piqued, he leaned in closer, folding his arms over the book. “why not?” for the first time, someone had actually asked why, and it took you a moment to find your voice. your heart beat a little faster as you began. “because—”

you paused, the memories flooding back. “i used to believe in it, while my parents were together. then, my mother did what she did.” you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “it seemed like nothing was more important than money. not shame, not her family. and when dad left us, it ruined me, but all she cared about was making money.”

his expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. his touch was gentle, sending shockwaves through you. “that sounds rough, but it won’t always be rough. if you’re not tempted by the wrong things, you’ll always end up with the right things.” you couldn’t help but ease into the warmth of his hand, the connection grounding you. “how do we know what the right thing is?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

jimin smiled, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “you’ll know when you feel it.” and in that moment, you swore you felt it. the sincerity in his eyes, the warmth of his touch—it was like a spark of something genuine, something real. for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a fleeting second, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

the sun dipped low in the sky as you walked home, the air crisp and cool, carrying the scents of autumn. jimin strolled beside you, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable silences that felt more like shared moments of understanding than lapses. as your house came into view, you turned to say goodbye, but your words caught in your throat as your mother stepped out onto the porch.

her face lit up with a welcoming smile. “you’re back later than usual,” she remarked, before turning her gaze to jimin. “and who might this be?”

he smiled politely and took a step forward. “i’m sorry, ma’am. we were studying together. i’m park jimin.” for a moment, your mother’s face seemed to freeze, her smile faltering as she examined him closely. “you look so much like your father,” she murmured, shaking her head as if to clear away old memories. her smile returned, albeit a bit more strained. “would you like to stay over for lunch, jimin?”

you blinked, glancing between the two of them, taken aback by her invitation. his laughter was nervous but genuine as he nodded. “i’d love to. thank you.”

inside, the house was warm, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of simmering soup and freshly baked bread. you helped your mother set the table, the clinking of dishes a soothing background noise. when you placed a bowl in front of jimin, your eyes met, and your heart fluttered inexplicably.

lunch was a quiet, intimate affair. your mother had outdone herself, serving a hearty meal that seemed to ease some of the tension in the air. jimin praised the food, and your mother’s smile was genuine this time, the warmth in her eyes reflecting her pride. “so, jimin,” your mother began, her tone conversational but probing, “i suppose you’ve heard about the scandal.”

he paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth, before setting it down gently. “i’ve heard a bit, yes,” he replied, his voice careful. “but it’s nothing to worry about. these things blow over soon enough.” you tensed at the mention of it, your appetite waning. your mother noticed and gave you a reassuring look before turning back to him. “you’re quite understanding. my daughter mentioned you not too long ago.”

you felt your cheeks burn as you scolded her softly, “mom, please.” jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “oh, really?”

your embarrassment deepened, and you stammered, “it’s not a big deal.” your mother shook her head, her smile unwavering. “she’s never talked about a boy in her life. this is a big deal.”

jimin’s smile widened, his heart fluttering at the mention. “well, i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours a moment longer than necessary. as the meal progressed, the conversation flowed easily. your mother seemed to warm up to him, her initial wariness melting away in the face of his genuine charm. he spoke about his interests, his plans for the future, and every so often, his eyes would flicker to you, as if seeking your approval.

as lunch came to an end, you found yourself reluctant to see jimin go. there was something about his presence that felt comforting, like a balm to your frayed nerves. when he finally stood to leave, your mother pressed a container of leftovers into his hands, insisting he take it. “thank you for having me,” he said, his voice sincere. “i really appreciate it.”

as you walked him to the door, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. “thank you for today,” you said softly. he smiled, his eyes warm. “thank you for having me. i’ll see you at school?”

you nodded, unable to keep the smile from your lips. “see you at school.” and as he walked away, you felt a sense of anticipation, a feeling that perhaps, life was about to surprise you after all.

jimin walked the familiar path to his manor, the weight of the day pressing lightly on his shoulders. the estate loomed ahead, its grandeur a testament to his family’s status. as he entered, the smell of rich mahogany and leather filled his senses. his mother was seated on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, her expression turning to one of concern as she saw him.

“where have you been?” she asked, her voice soft but probing. his father, seated in his favorite armchair, eyed him cautiously. “studying for my upcoming project with a friend,” jimin replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

his father chuckled, a sound that held more skepticism than amusement. “studying, you say? snow must be forecasted for tomorrow.” jimin attempted to laugh it off, but his older sister chimed in. yura was a striking figure, a successful businesswoman who often indulged in wine with their mother. “a friend?” she queried, her tone laced with curiosity. “does this friend happen to be a girl?”

he tried to brush it off, maintaining his nonchalant demeanor. “yes, but she’s just a friend.” his mother’s brow furrowed slightly. “are you still seeing sua?” she asked, her concern evident.

jimin nodded, his voice steady. “yes, i am.”

“then why are you hanging out with other girls?” she pressed. before he could respond, his father intervened, his tone lighter. “he’s young. he has the right to have some fun.” this earned him skeptical glares from both his wife and daughter.

as jimin made his way up the grand staircase to his room, his mother’s voice followed him. “have you taken your pills?” his chest tightened at the reminder. “i’ll take them now,” he assured her.

“good,” she replied. “we don’t need another incident.” he felt a pang of unease at her words but continued to his room, closing the door behind him. the room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could be himself. he crossed to his desk, where a bottle of pills stood as a stark reminder of his responsibilities. he frowned as he took one, the bitterness of the pill a sharp contrast to the sweetness of his earlier encounter with you.

but he couldn't dwell on the bitterness for long. the thought of you brought a warmth to his chest, a happiness that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of his mind. he plopped onto the couch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he couldn't help but think about your eyes, the way they sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about, and the way your laughter seemed to fill the room with light. for a moment, the weight of his family's expectations, the pills, and the memories of past incidents faded into the background.

the following morning, the sun cast a gentle glow over the tennis courts, the light filtering through the early morning haze. you were already on the court, warming up and serving balls with precise, practiced motions. each serve sliced through the air, a testament to your skill and dedication. the rest of the students began to line up, their murmurs a quiet hum in the background.

you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar scoff. looking up, you saw sua standing at the edge of the court, her smirk as sharp as ever. “don't worry, it isn't lunch yet,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. she paused, her eyes narrowing. “let's see if you're as good as they say you are.”

you squared your shoulders, determination settling in your bones. the showdown began, each of you serving and returning the ball with fierce intensity. the rhythmic sound of tennis balls being struck echoed around the court, blending with the rising tension in the air. jimin walked onto the field, curiosity etched on his features. spotting jaebum, he asked, “what's going on?”

jaebum, eyes fixed on the game, replied, “your girlfriend’s getting her ass handed to her.” to his surprise, a smile played on jimin's lips as he watched you. your form was impeccable, each movement fluid and powerful. the way you played was mesmerizing, a dance of skill and tenacity. the match grew more intense. you blocked sua's attempts to send the ball flying past you, returning each one with precision. the final moment came when sua, out of frustration, aimed a ball straight at your face. you blocked it effortlessly, sending it back her way with a force she couldn’t match. she scrambled, but couldn't save it in time.

the court erupted in applause, but sua was far from gracious in defeat. ahe strode over to you, her expression dark. “you have a way with balls,” she sneered. “your mother taught you well.”

fed up, you closed the distance between you, your hand darting out and colliding with the side of her face. the sound echoed around the court, followed by a collective gasp from the students. “i've had just about enough of your shit,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

her eyes widened in shock. “have you lost your mind?” she demanded, raising her hand to strike you back. you flinched, bracing for the impact, but it never came. instead, jimin's grip closed around sua's wrist, stopping her cold. your heart raced as you watched the scene unfold.

“she slapped me,” she practically shrieked, her voice filled with indignation. “did you see what she did?” jimin’s expression remained calm, almost amused. “yeah, maybe you should stop biting off more than you can chew.” he dropped her hand, leaving her stunned and speechless.

turning to you, he grabbed your wrist, his touch firm but gentle. “come on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

“we're ditching school for the day,” he informed you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. you opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips. there was something about the way he led you away, the sense of freedom in breaking the rules just this once, that made it impossible to resist. the two of you walked off the field, leaving behind the shocked whispers and lingering tension of the court.

as you walked briskly beside him, you couldn’t help but ask, “why the sudden idea?” he stiffened slightly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “you seem like you need a break,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

the tension from the tennis court gradually melted away as you both ventured into the city. the world outside school walls felt different, lighter, filled with possibilities. your steps slowed as you approached a quaint coffee shop. the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out as jimin held the door open for you. inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, the soft murmur of conversations blending with the clinking of cups.

you found a cozy corner by the window, and jimin ordered two lattes. when he returned with the steaming cups, he placed one in front of you and took a seat across the small table. “so,” he began, stirring his coffee thoughtfully, “tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.” you smiled, taking a sip of your latte. “i’m not as boring as people think,” you said, your tone playful.

he chuckled, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “i never thought you were boring.” the conversation flowed easily, laughter mingling with the aroma of coffee. you found yourself sharing stories, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders with each passing moment.

after leaving the coffee shop, you both wandered to a nearby park. the trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind. you found a bench beneath a large oak tree, its branches casting dappled shadows on the ground. jimin stretched out beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “you know,” he said, “sometimes you just need to let go and enjoy the little things.”

you nodded, watching as children played nearby, their laughter infectious. “i guess i’ve forgotten how to do that.” he turned to you, his eyes earnest. “then let’s remind you.”

the day seemed to pass in a blur of moments—feeding ducks at the pond, racing each other up a hill, and sharing stories beneath the shade of the old oak tree. each moment felt like a stolen piece of happiness, a reprieve from the usual chaos. as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, jimin suggested one more stop. “let’s go to the beach,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

the beach was a short walk away, and the walk itself was filled with easy conversation and the hum of the active city. when you finally arrived, the sight of the sea stretching endlessly before you took your breath away. you kicked off your shoes, the cool sand seeping between your toes as you walked towards the shoreline. “i haven’t been to the beach in a long time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “the last time i went was when my parents were still together.”

jimin’s gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. “you should come more often,” he said gently. you looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “why?”

he pointed to the sea, its waves lapping gently at the shore. “you’re as pretty as the sea.” you couldn’t help but blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “you’re not as awful as people say you are,” you said, your tone teasing.

he smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “you have no idea.” curiosity piqued, you asked, “what do you mean by that?”

he shrugged, looking out at the horizon. “i’ve got a lot on my plate, too.” you were about to ask him what he meant, the words forming on your lips, when he cut you off with a gentle kiss on your forehead. the touch was soft, lingering, and it sent a rush of warmth through you. you were taken aback, your heart pounding in your chest. he noticed your surprise and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“come on,” he said, taking your hand. “we have a project to study for.” the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle as you followed him, the day’s events playing over and over in your mind. the sun set in the distance, casting a golden glow over the beach, but all you could think about was the boy beside you.

you walked with him, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path as you approached his manor. the sight of the grand, imposing structure took your breath away, its sheer size and elegance making you feel small in comparison. jimin noticed your awe and smiled softly, guiding you through the expansive entrance. “welcome to my humble abode,” he joked, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes—perhaps a reluctance or discomfort with the grandeur of his home.

he led you through the hallways, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached his room. it was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the house, a sanctuary of purity and calm. the walls were adorned with soft hues, the furniture understated yet elegant. your eyes landed on a series of framed baby photos on his bedside table. “is that you?” you asked, pointing to one of the photos.

he laughed, a sound that warmed the room. “yeah, that’s me. ibwasn’t that ugly, was i?” he teased, noticing your lingering gaze. “quite the opposite,” you said, sincerity in your voice. you were captivated by the innocence in the photo, a stark contrast to the composed young man beside you.

jimin picked up the photo you had been staring at, his fingers tracing the edges of the frame. a smile played on his lips, and his eyes softened with nostalgia. “simpler times,” he murmured, almost to himself. he carefully removed the photo from the frame and handed it to you. “take it,” he urged, his voice gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” you asked, shocked by his gesture. he nodded, and your heart fluttered as you tucked the photo into your pocket. the sight of him as a baby made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

as you settled down to study, jimin began repeating the biological processes listed in the book, his voice rhythmic and soothing. despite his efforts, you couldn’t seem to focus, your mind wandering back to the earlier conversation. “what's wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. “you mentioned having a lot on your plate,” you began hesitantly. “what did you mean by that?”

he sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “wait here,” he said, getting up and leaving the room. you waited, curiosity gnawing at you until he returned, a small bottle in his hand. “what’s that?” you asked, though you had a sinking feeling you already knew.

“antidepressants,” he answered, his voice calm. your eyes widened in surprise. “why do you have them?”

he lifted his sleeve, revealing his wrist where faint scars were healing. the sight of them stunned you, a sharp pain piercing your heart. the room seemed to hold its breath, the silence heavy and poignant. “i went through a tough time last year,” he explained, his voice steady but soft. “no one was willing to help. i was suffocating and couldn’t find a way out.”

he paused, a smile tugging at his lips despite the weight of his words. “i’ve never told anyone that before.”

you stared at his scars, your fingers tracing them gently. tears welled up in your eyes, the raw vulnerability of the moment overwhelming you. he noticed, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “hey,” he said softly, his touch tender. “i didn’t show you this so you could cry.”

“i’m just—i’m so glad you’re still here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. his hand cupped your cheek, and in that moment of sheer vulnerability, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. the kiss shocked you at first, but you kissed back, the intensity of the moment deepening. it was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words, the shared pain, and the unvoiced longing.

his arms wrapped around you, and he gently picked you up, carrying you to his bed. the kiss grew more intense, each touch a promise, each breath a declaration. as he laid you down, his eyes held yours, a silent vow of understanding and acceptance. in the quiet sanctuary of his room, you both found solace in each other, a moment of purity and connection amidst the chaos of your lives. the world outside ceased to exist, and for those precious moments, it was just you and him.

his hands began to explore your body, his touch light and reverent. jimin had always been attentive, but now there was something different, something more profound. you felt your heart racing, your skin tingling with every caress. your body responded to his, eager to know him in every way possible. he noticed your nervousness and took his time, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you that he would be gentle.

his lips trailed down your neck, and you felt your breath hitch. you’d never been with anyone before, but in that moment, you knew that this was right. he had become so much more than just a friend—he was the one who had seen through your walls, who had accepted you at your worst, and now he was the one you wanted to give yourself to completely. it made you wonder, what was it exactly that you were feeling? was it the sheer vulnerability taking action, or was it the feeling you had spent nineteen years believing to be nothing more than a mere illusion.

as he entered you, you knew what you were feeling wasn't an illusion. you felt a brief flash of pain, but his tender kisses and soothing whispers helped ease the discomfort. the pain soon gave way to pleasure, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of his movements. your bodies melded together as one, the intimacy of the act leaving you feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

in the aftermath, you lay in his arms, the warmth of his embrace seeping into your very soul. his heartbeat was the only sound in the room, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo your own. his guilt still lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the raw emotion that filled the space between you. jimin had never meant for it to go this far, never meant to catch feelings for someone he was supposed to use as a means to an end. but as he held you, feeling your heart beating against his chest, he knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a bet. the lines had blurred, and now, he was just as invested in this as you were. the realization was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. but for now, he pushed it aside, choosing to focus on the warmth of your embrace and the sweet taste of your lips.

in the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through jimin's window, the world seemed to hold its breath. your heart raced as you lay beside him, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. the quiet hum of the house served as a gentle reminder of the sanctuary you found within each other's company. he turned to you, his eyes searching yours with a blend of curiosity and tenderness. “why did you give yourself to me if you don’t believe in love?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet it held the weight of a thousand unasked questions. the realization of what had transpired began to settle in, and you felt a mixture of vulnerability and courage. you looked into his eyes, the words forming slowly on your lips.

“i was tempted,” you whispered, the truth of it resonating in the quiet space between you. a small, almost shy smile played on his lips. “what exactly was it that tempted you?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

you reached out, your fingers tracing the faint scars on his wrist with a delicate touch. there was something profound in the simplicity of the gesture, a silent acknowledgment of his pain and resilience. “you,” you said, your voice steady as you met his eyes. “you tempted me.”

his smile widened, a mixture of relief and affection lighting up his features. he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress. the vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and in that moment, you felt an unspoken understanding pass between you. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name. you smiled back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “for what?”

“for seeing me,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “for accepting me, scars and all.” the raw honesty of his words touched you deeply, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. the two of you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. the world outside continued its relentless pace, but in the quiet sanctuary of his room, time seemed to slow down. the connection you shared felt sacred, a beautiful intertwining of souls that defied the chaos of life.

the morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of jimin’s room, casting delicate patterns on the walls. he woke up alone, the previous night's warmth lingering faintly in the air. the house was quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes from the kitchen downstairs. he stretched, feeling a strange mixture of peace and anticipation.

as he descended the grand staircase, his mother looked up from her cup of tea, a smile of relief softening her features. “good morning, jimin. when are we going to see sua again? it feels like ages since she’s been over.” he paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he sighed. “actually, mom, i broke up with sua.”

his mother’s eyes widened in surprise. “you what? why on earth would you do that?” he took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he faced the inevitable. “i fell in love with someone else.”

his mother’s shock deepened, her teacup almost slipping from her grasp. “is it that girl you were studying with yesterday?” a gentle smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “yes, it is.”

his mother opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, his father, who had been silently observing from his chair, spoke up. “why don’t you invite her over for dinner? we’d like to meet her.” his mother turned to him, aghast. “are you serious?” his father nodded, his expression calm and composed. “i am. i trust our son’s judgment.”

at school, the memory of the previous night played over and over in your mind as you recounted everything to jisoo. her eyes grew wider with each word, and she let out a shriek that drew the attention of everyone around. “you need to keep it to yourself,” you hissed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

she was stunned, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “i warned you,” she said, hitting you lightly on the arm. before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. “warned her about what?”

you both turned to see jimin approaching, a playful smile on his lips. jisoo quickly brushed it off, trying to act casual. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. you pushed him back, whispering urgently, “people are staring,” he chuckled. “so what?”

“you should be embarrassed to be seen with the hostess’s daughter,” you muttered, trying to step away. but he only pulled you in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he waved at taehyung, who was standing nearby, his jaw practically on the floor. jimin took your hand and waved it at taehyung, much to your mortification.

“are you crazy?” you hissed, trying to pull your hand back. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i have good news,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

“what is it?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “my parents want to have dinner with you,” he said, pausing to gauge your reaction. “are you okay with that?”

jisoo’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and you felt your own heart skip a beat. stunned and flustered, you nodded hesitantly. “i’d be honored.” jimin smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you.

that evening, as you stood before your wardrobe, your hands trembled with anticipation. your mother was out, so you indulged in exploring your options without interruption. fabrics of varying textures and colors slipped through your fingers as you considered each dress. you finally settled on an elegant white dress, its fabric smooth and cool against your skin. the intricate lace detailing along the neckline and hem added a touch of sophistication. you paired it with delicate pearl earrings and a simple bracelet, hoping to make a good impression.

once ready, you instructed your driver to take you to the park manor. the drive seemed both endless and fleeting, the passing scenery a blur of colors as your heart raced. upon arrival, jimin welcomed you with a warm hug, his embrace steadying your nerves. he led you inside where his parents awaited.

his mother’s eyes widened as she took in your appearance. “you’re even prettier than i anticipated,” she remarked, a smile playing on her lips. his father, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. his stomach seemed to sink as he observed you, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. jimin's sister approached you, her eyes lighting up as she hugged you. “you look like a doll!” she exclaimed, admiring your handbag.

jimin beamed at their reactions, but his father’s silence lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over the otherwise warm reception. you were guided to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaited. the soft glow of candles and the elegant tableware created a welcoming atmosphere. you couldn’t help but compliment the decor.

“thank you,” jimin’s mother replied, her smile genuine. she opened a bottle of wine, the soft pop of the cork punctuating the air. “would you like a glass?”

you declined politely. “oh, no, ma'am. i don’t drink.” her eyes sparkled with pleasant surprise, but she insisted, “it’s a special occasion.” she poured you a glass despite your initial refusal, placing it gently in front of you. as the meal began, the conversation flowed smoothly, filled with lighthearted anecdotes and laughter. the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the tension you had felt earlier. however, a shift occurred when jimin’s sister suddenly turned to you, her brow furrowed slightly.

“i just realized, we never got your name,” she said, curiosity in her voice. you smiled apologetically, feeling slightly embarrassed. “i’m sorry, my name is (y/n) (l/n).”

a heavy silence fell over the table, the warmth dissipating in an instant. his mother’s friendly expression quickly vanished, replaced by one of shock. she repeated your last name, her voice barely a whisper. “you’re the daughter of the woman who owns the hostess club,” she stated, her tone now cold and distant. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice. “yes, but my mother is no longer a part of it,” you managed to say, your voice trembling.

his father’s face had turned pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. jimin’s gaze flicked between you and his parents, confusion and curiosity etched on his features. the glass in his mother’s hand suddenly shattered, wine spilling across the table as shards of glass dug into her skin. “get out of my house,” her tone was cold, her voice trembling with rage and horror. “never show your face here again.” you were stunned, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened. jimin stood abruptly, his fist slamming into the table. “what is your problem?” he demanded, his voice shaking with anger.

his mother scoffed, her hand bleeding as she slammed the remaining shards of glass into the table. “don’t you know?” she spat, tears streaming down her cheeks. “don’t you know that your father was her mother’s favorite guest? your father and kang sua’s father?” she paused, her gaze piercing through you. “she tempted them. it’s in their blood.”

the weight of her words hit you like a physical blow. shocked and humiliated, tears streamed down your face as you stammered an apology before fleeing the room. the world outside was a blur of darkness and cold, the warmth and light of the manor replaced by the harsh reality of your situation. as you ran, the tears continued to flow, each step feeling heavier than the last.

the night air was cold against your skin as you ran, tears blurring your vision. humiliation and shame burned hot in your chest, mingling with a fierce, simmering anger. the echo of his mother’s words reverberated in your mind, each repetition deepening the wound. you burst through your front door, sobbing uncontrollably. your mother, who had been reading in the living room, rushed to your side, her face etched with concern. “what happened?” she asked, her voice soft with worry.

you tried to push her away, the sight of your once pristine dress now stained with wine and blood adding fuel to your anger. “it’s all your fault,” you spat, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. she recoiled, her eyes wide with shock. “what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“everything!” you screamed, your voice raw. “dad leaving, the humiliation, all of it. it’s all because of you.” you sank to your knees, the overwhelming weight of your emotions pressing down on you. tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed, each breath a struggle. your mother, tears in her own eyes, knelt beside you. despite your protests, she wrapped her arms around you, her embrace warm and comforting.

“i know,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. “i know you hate me, and no apology in the world will make up for me being the worst mother.” you fought against her hold at first, but your strength soon gave out. you clung to her shirt, your sobs gradually quieting. her presence, once a source of anger, now provided a strange comfort. she held you tightly, her tears mixing with yours as she whispered soothing words.

the house was silent except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional sniffle. the warmth of your mother’s embrace began to melt the ice around your heart, if only slightly. you were still angry, still hurt, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to be held. the weight of the evening’s events slowly began to lift, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion. as your cries died down, you remained clinging to her shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. for the first time in a long while, you felt a small semblance of peace. it wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start. and in the quiet of the night, held in your mother’s arms, you found a glimmer of hope.

the tension in the room was palpable after you fled, leaving an echoing silence that seemed to suffocate the air. jimin’s mother, her hand bleeding and her eyes filled with a mixture of rage and pain, finally broke the silence. her voice was calm, but there was a steely edge to it that brooked no argument. “jimin,” she said, “you will never see that girl again.”

jimin, still standing, fists clenched in fury, shook his head vehemently. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she has nothing to do with her mother’s affairs.” he paused, his gaze shifting to his father, who sat with his head bowed in shame. “or your affairs.”

his mother’s face twisted with anger. she slammed her hand down on the table, causing the silverware to clatter. “see her again then,” she spat. “try your luck.” the room was charged with an almost tangible electricity. her face was a mask of cold determination, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity. she paused, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “see her again, and i promise you she’ll disappear.”

his heart pounded in his chest. he felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. anger, fear, and a desperate need to protect you all warred within him. he knew he couldn’t let his mother’s threats go unanswered, but the sheer intensity of her hatred left him momentarily speechless. the dinner table fell silent once more, the only sound the ticking of the antique clock in the hallway. jimin turned and left the room, his heart heavy with a mix of determination and dread. he knew the battle was far from over, but he also knew that he couldn’t give up on you. not now, not ever.

the morning at school was cloaked in an oppressive tension, and the air seemed to thrum with unspoken words and hidden resentments. jimin, with a determined stride, marched through the crowded hallway, his eyes fixed on sua. as he approached her, the sea of students parted, sensing the gravity of the confrontation about to unfold.

her eyes flickered with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “giving up already?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. jimin’s face was a mask of unyielding resolve. “the game is over,” he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

she raised an eyebrow, her expression one of intrigued disbelief. “what do you mean?” he took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “i’ve fallen in love with her,” he declared, his voice firm despite the weight of his words.

her eyes widened in shock, and then a cruel smile curved her lips. “you must be joking,” she said, her tone icy with contempt. he shook his head, a mix of sadness and resolve in his eyes. “i’m not. i’m sorry, sua.” without another word, her hand lashed out, the sting of the slap echoing through the hallway. jimin flinched, but his eyes remained locked on hers, a silent defiance in their depths. shw turned on her heel, her gaze cold and unfeeling as she walked away, her heels clicking ominously on the polished floor.

as she disappeared into the bathroom, you were making your way down the corridor, lost in your own thoughts. the bathroom door swung open with a sharp creak, and her presence was like a storm cloud. she spotted you at the sink, and her gaze hardened as she approached. you met her gaze in the mirror, your heart sinking. “what do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

her expression twisted into a mask of venomous disdain. “you’ve tempted him,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. she paused, letting her words sink in before adding, “you really are just like your mother.”

in the midst of your panic, her voice cut through the noise once more. “you really thought this was real?” she sneered, her tone dripping with contempt. “you were just a bet. jimin was a part of it from the beginning.” the revelation hit you like a physical blow, your breath catching as you gasped for air. through the blur of water and your own tears, you barely made out her words.

“he was never serious,” she continued, her expression a cruel mix of satisfaction and pity. “it was all just a game to him, a way to amuse himself. and you were just another pawn.” the words echoed in your mind, mingling with the sting of the cold water and the pressure of her hands. the reality of the betrayal was a crushing weight, adding to the turmoil you already felt.

before you could react, her hand clamped onto your hair, her grip like a vice. panic surged through you as she yanked you towards the sink. the cold, unforgiving porcelain met your face as she dunked you, the water gushing forth with a harsh, relentless force. you flailed, gasping for air as the water swirled around you, filling your senses with its icy, suffocating embrace. your mind whirled with disjointed memories from your old school, fragments of humiliation and fear blending with the present moment. the world around you blurred as your vision darkened, the water pressing against your face like a heavy, smothering shroud.

just as you felt yourself slipping into darkness, a powerful force yanked her away. the sudden release was disorienting, and you coughed, spluttering as you gasped for breath. as you tried to steady yourself, the chaos around you began to coalesce into clarity. turning your head, you saw jisoo standing in the doorway, her face a mask of fury and concern. “get lost,” she commanded, her voice a fierce, protective roar.

sua, caught off guard, hesitated before retreating, her expression one of anger and frustration. as she stormed out of the bathroom, the door slammed behind her, leaving you and jisoo in the wake of the confrontation. she hurried to your side, her arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. you clung to her, tears streaming down your face as you trembled with shock and fear. “it’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, her voice soothing and steady. “i’m here. you’re safe now.” the warmth of her embrace was a stark contrast to the cold, harsh reality of what had just transpired. as you allowed yourself to cry, the sobs wracking your body, her presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. her hands gently stroked your back, her voice a constant reassurance that you weren’t alone.

as you left the school, the heavy weight of the day seemed to press down upon you. the hallway, once bustling with the casual chatter of students, now felt hollow and distant. your footsteps echoed in the quiet, a rhythmic reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. as you approached the gates, your phone buzzed sharply, breaking the silence of your troubled thoughts. you glanced at the screen, seeing jimin’s name flash across it. an inexplicable mix of apprehension and curiosity gripped you. you hesitated for a moment before answering, your breath catching as you said, “hello?”

to your surprise, it was not jimin’s voice but his mother’s that greeted you. her tone was clear and authoritative, though tinged with an undertone of cold detachment. “hello,” she began, “i need you to come to the manor immediately.” your heart raced at the urgency in her voice. “is everything alright?” you asked, your concern mingling with anxiety.

“good,” she replied crisply. “it’s in your best interest to come now.” before you could respond, the call ended abruptly. a surge of unease propelled you to the park manor, your mind a whirl of worry and confusion. the grandiose estate loomed before you, its imposing structure now a place of dread rather than comfort. as you approached the front door, you noticed the serene beauty of the manor felt jarringly out of place with the turmoil inside.

you were greeted at the door by three figures: his mother, his father, and his sister. none of them were jimin. the air in the room was thick with tension, and his mother wasted no time in addressing you. “sit down,” she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

you took a seat, your heart pounding in your chest. his mother continued, her gaze cold and unyielding. “you are to cease all contact with my son,” she said, her words slicing through the air with chilling clarity. tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to maintain your composure. “i have nothing to do with my mother’s affairs,” you said, your voice trembling. “i love jimin.” your own declaration took you by surprise, the depth of your feelings for jimin crystallizing in that moment. his sister, standing to the side, regarded you with a sympathetic expression, her eyes softening.

his mother, however, remained resolute. “you have two choices,” she said, her voice unwavering. “you can stop seeing him immediately and remain in korea, or you can continue seeing him for the next two weeks and allow me to send you wherever i deem necessary.” the weight of her words settled heavily upon you. you knew what was at stake—your future, your freedom, and your relationship with him. the thought of losing him was unbearable, and with a steely resolve, you made your choice.

“the second option,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you. a glimmer of approval flickered in his mother’s eyes. “very well,” she said. “time is ticking. he’s in his room. go to him now.”

you rushed through the opulent corridors of the manor, your heart racing with each step. the grandeur of the house, usually so comforting, now seemed to close in around you, intensifying your anxiety. you reached his door and hesitated for a brief moment before knocking softly. the door swung open, and there stood jimin, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and hope. without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, your tears flowing freely. his embrace was warm and reassuring, and you could feel his body trembling slightly as he held you close.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “i’m so sorry for everything.” you clung to him, your own tears mingling with his. the shared pain and the depth of your connection were palpable in that moment. his room, usually a place of calm and order, became a sanctuary of shared grief and solace.

he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and shimmering with emotion. “sua told you, didn’t she?” his voice was a soft murmur, each word heavy with regret and sadness. you nodded, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “she did,” you managed to reply, your voice barely a whisper. the betrayal of her revelation stung, but you were determined not to let it overshadow the fragile moments you had left with him. you needed to hold on to whatever you could before it was too late.

hia face was a canvas of conflicting emotions as tears slipped down his cheeks. “it’s true,” he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “everything she said was true. the bet, the game—everything.”

your heart ached as he spoke, but you refused to let the hurt cloud the remaining time you had with him. you reached up to touch his face, wiping away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. “but,” you said softly, “every word and every embrace we shared—they were real to me. were they real to you too?” he nodded, his gaze unwavering as he took your hand in his. “yes,” he said, his voice firm despite the tears. “every word, every touch—it was all real. i fell for you, truly. even if the beginning was under false pretenses, what i felt for you was genuine.”

you offered him a small, bittersweet smile, trying to keep the pain from overwhelming you. “did i tempt you?” you asked gently, your eyes searching his for the truth. he shook his head, a look of profound sincerity in his eyes. “no,” he said softly. “it wasn’t temptation. it was love.” the sincerity in his words was like a balm to your wounded heart. despite the betrayal and the broken trust, his confession was a glimmer of truth amidst the wreckage. the knowledge that his feelings for you were genuine, even if the circumstances were tainted, offered a fragile hope.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the tennis court as sua stood alone, her figure a stark silhouette against the backdrop of darkness. the once pristine surface, now marked with scattered tennis balls, bore silent witness to her anguish. she moved with a frantic energy, her serve wild and uncoordinated, her tears mingling with the sweat on her face.

her tennis racket flew through the air with each forceful swing, connecting with the balls only to send them careening off into the corners of the court. each miss was a blow to her heart, a physical manifestation of her internal turmoil. the rhythmic thud of the racket meeting the ball echoed through the still night, a harsh reminder of the chaos that churned within her.

with every serve, she attempted to expel the weight of her pain and betrayal. one ball flew off her racket for her father's broken promises, his failure to protect her from the harsh realities of their world. another, driven with greater force, was aimed at jimin’s rejection, his love once desired now an elusive fantasy. the final ball was a direct hit aimed at you, the one who had stolen the affections of the boy she had coveted, the one who had inadvertently exposed her vulnerabilities.

her once graceful movements became erratic, her strokes heavy and labored. she continued to hit ball after ball, her frustration mounting with each missed shot. tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the sweat that glistened under the moonlight. the court was littered with tennis balls, each one a testament to her emotional struggle and the unanswered questions that plagued her.

finally, she collapsed onto the ground, her racket falling from her grasp. It lay beside her, its handle resting against the cold surface of the court. her sobs were uncontrollable now, her body shaking with each cry as she lay on the ground. the silence of the night was broken only by her heart-wrenching pleas. “why not me?” she cried out, her voice raw and desperate. the words echoed through the empty court, a stark contrast to the usually cheerful sound of tennis matches. she looked up at the sky, her tears reflecting the pale light of the moon.

the next two weeks passed in a bittersweet blur, a fragile sanctuary carved out of time amidst the chaos of looming departure. each day with jimin was a delicate dance of stolen moments and fleeting joys. your days were filled with long walks through serene gardens, the crisp air carrying laughter and conversation. evenings were spent in cozy corners of his favorite cafes, where you shared whispered dreams over cups of steaming coffee.

his presence was a balm, soothing the sting of impending separation. his touch was gentle, his smile a constant source of comfort. together, you explored hidden spots in the city, places that seemed to come alive under his animated descriptions. each shared glance and playful banter deepened the bond between you, weaving a tapestry of intimacy and understanding.

the nights were no less tender. you would sit side by side, wrapped in soft blankets, as he recounted stories of his childhood. the light from the flickering fireplace cast a warm glow on his face, making the shadows dance in rhythm with the stories he told. he showed you his favorite spots in his home, each room steeped in memories that he now shared with you. the time together was a precious interlude, a sanctuary from the world’s harshness.

on the eve of your departure, the weight of impending separation hung heavy in the air. jimin had arranged a special evening, unaware of what was to come, filled with your favorite music and a candlelit dinner prepared with care. the atmosphere was serene, the soft glow of the candles flickering against the walls, creating an intimate cocoon around the two of you.

as the night wore on, his eyes held a glimmer of anticipation. he finally spoke, breaking the gentle silence that had settled between you. “i have a gift for you,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. his fingers reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, intricately crafted dreamcatcher. its delicate threads shimmered in the candlelight, adorned with tiny beads and feathers that swayed gently as he held it out to you.

you accepted the gift with a sense of wonder, your eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the dreamcatcher. “what's this for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “it filters out all the nightmares,” he replied, his smile tender as he watched you. “i want you to have it, so you’ll always have sweet dreams, even when i’m not around.”

you wrapped your fingers around the dreamcatcher, feeling its cool, smooth surface against your skin. moved by the gesture, you pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him close. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort you wished could last forever. “i love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly as he pulled back to look into your eyes. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

the words, so earnest and sincere, made your heart swell with emotion. “i love you too,” you responded, your voice filled with a mix of affection and sorrow. “i want that too.” he kissed you then, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and dreams yet to be fulfilled. the kiss was a silent vow, a declaration of the love that bound you together despite the challenges ahead.

after he left, the weight of the moment settled heavily upon you. you closed the door behind him, the silence of the room amplifying the ache in your chest. the dreamcatcher, now held close to your heart, seemed to pulse with the memories of the past weeks. as the door clicked shut, the realization of the imminent departure hit you with full force. you sank to your knees on the floor, the tears that had been held back finally breaking free. they flowed unchecked, each sob a release of the grief and the bittersweet joy of the moments shared with him. the dreamcatcher lay beside you, its delicate threads shimmering softly in the dim light, a poignant reminder of the love you would leave behind.

the room was filled with the soft rustle of the dreamcatcher’s feathers, a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo your sorrow. as you clutched the dreamcatcher tightly, you felt the full weight of the separation, the loss of the future you had hoped for. the love that had blossomed in such a short time now seemed both a blessing and a cruel reminder of the distance that would soon separate you.

the following day dawned with an unsettling quiet. your absence was a stark void in the school corridors, a missing presence that jimin immediately noticed. as he walked past your empty seat, his heart sank. his gaze darted around the classroom, hoping to catch sight of you, but the seat beside him remained conspicuously vacant.

unable to quell the growing sense of worry, he approached jisoo, his voice laced with concern. “where is she?” he asked urgently, his eyes searching hers for answers. jisoo, her expression a mask of indifference, shrugged dismissively. “i don’t know. she hasn’t been here all day.”

the coldness in her tone stung, but he barely registered it. his anxiety mounted as he turned to sua, who observed him with a stony face, her eyes betraying nothing. his heart raced as he called your number, only to be met with the disheartening message that the line was deactivated. panic surged through him, propelling him to sprint out of the school, his mind a maelstrom of dread and confusion.

he arrived at your house, breathless and desperate, only to find the place eerily silent and empty. the front door, once a welcoming entrance, now seemed like a barrier to the answers he sought. the sight of the “for sale” sign in the yard was a cruel twist of the knife. jimin turned to the neighbor, who was tending to her garden. his voice trembled with urgency. “do you know where they went? please, i need to find them.”

the neighbor looked up, a frown forming on her face. “didn’t you know?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “they moved out last night.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. the weight of the revelation crashed over him, a suffocating wave of despair. he turned and ran back to his manor, his heart pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. bursting through the front door, his eyes sought out his mother, who was seated at the dining table, seemingly calm and composed. “where is she?” he demanded, his voice strained. “where did you send her?”

his mother’s gaze was steady, though her eyes carried an edge of disdain. “she’s far away,” she replied coolly, her tone dismissive. the finality of her words shattered something within him. tears sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision. overwhelmed by grief and frustration, he slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing through the quiet house. “where? where did you send her?” he cried, his voice cracking with desperation.

his mother’s face softened for a moment, but she remained resolute. “take your pills,” she said firmly, rising from her seat.

as she left the room, jimin sank to his knees, his body trembling with the weight of his anguish. the room seemed to close in on him, the walls echoing the hollow ache in his chest. his sister entered, her eyes filled with concern and sympathy. without a word, she knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace. jimin clung to her, his sobs wracking his body. between gasps of air, he managed to confess the depth of his feelings. “i love her,” he choked out. “i love her so much.”

his sister’s voice was soft and laced with tears as she whispered, “she’s in gangnam.”

the word resonated through him like a beacon of hope amidst the storm of his despair. he pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes wide with renewed determination. “gangnam?” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. she nodded, her tears mingling with his. “yes. she’s there. you need to go now.” the realization that you were still within reach, albeit at a distance, ignited a spark of resolve in him.

you and your mother had arrived in gangnam late into the night, the city's vibrant lights casting a melancholic glow on your new surroundings. the apartment, though modest compared to the grandeur of your previous residence, was a refuge from the turmoil that had pursued you. your mother’s apologies were a constant murmur, her voice thick with regret and sorrow. she fretted over every detail, her guilt apparent in every word she spoke.

“it’s all my fault,” she repeated, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “i should never have put you through this.” you placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer comfort despite your own swirling emotions. “it’s going to be okay, mom,” you reassured her, though you felt far from certain. “we’ll make this work. it’s a new beginning.”

after some time, you decided to step out and clear your mind. the streets of gangnam were a vibrant tapestry of neon lights and bustling activity. as you wandered through the city, you found yourself drawn towards the beach, a place that had once held significant memories.

the soft, salty breeze greeted you as you reached the shore. the waves lapped gently at the sand, a rhythm that mirrored the bittersweet cadence of your own heart. you sank onto the sand, recalling the day you had spent with jimin at the beach. the laughter you shared, the warmth of his hand in yours, the promises whispered beneath the starlit sky—all these memories surged back, flooding your senses with an ache that was both beautiful and devastating.

tears sprang to your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked out at the horizon. the sea, with its endless expanse, felt like a reflection of your own feelings—vast, deep, and profoundly complex. you had left everything behind because you were tempted. no, not merely tempted—you were in love. you had felt as beautiful and infinite as the sea itself.

a voice cut through your reverie, startling you. “i knew i’d find you here.”

the words were soft but unmistakable. You froze, unable to believe what you were hearing. slowly, you turned around, and there he was. the sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. he was here, but there was an undeniable distance between you, an invisible barrier that seemed almost insurmountable.

he took a few steps toward you, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. “how could you not tell me?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “how could you just leave me like that?”

you shook your head, the tears flowing freely now. “i had no choice,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “it was either leave or risk everything.”

jimin’s eyes softened, his concern etched deeply on his face. “but you didn’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “you should have let me be part of it.”

you backed away slightly, feeling the weight of his presence and the danger it posed. “you have to go home,” you said urgently. “you can’t be seen with me. it’s not safe.” but he closed the distance between you, his determination unwavering. he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. the warmth of his embrace was like a balm to your wounded soul. you could feel his tears mingling with yours as he buried his face in your hair, his emotions raw and palpable.

“you need to come home,” he murmured through his tears. “you don’t have to face this alone. no matter what, we can figure it out together.”

you shook your head against his shoulder, the reality of your situation weighing heavily on you. “i can’t,” you whispered, feeling the hopelessness of the situation. “i don’t have anywhere else to go.” jimin gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his own face streaked with sadness. “no one can do anything as long as you have me,” he said firmly, his voice full of conviction. “i love you. and that’s all that matters.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching with the depth of your feelings. “i love you too,” you replied, your voice trembling. the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle roar of the ocean and the steady you had found something you had once thought hadn't existed. “i never believed it existed,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your newfound understanding. “i didn’t think i could find something like this.”

jimin’s eyes, filled with an earnest intensity, met yours. “it’s real,” he assured you softly. “we found it together.”

✧.*

a/n: this one was a doozy

outdid ur favs

writing a lee taeyong angst fic rn got me feeling like that one tiktok emoji

nevertheless (알고있지만) – jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

attachment was a curious thing. it began subtly, weaving its tendrils through the fabric of your life without notice, like the first soft blush of dawn on a still, sleepy horizon. at first, it seemed innocuous, a delicate thread that merely tugged gently at the edges of your existence, a whisper of a presence that was easily overlooked.

yet, in its essence, attachment was a powerful force, beautiful and treacherous. it painted the world in vivid hues, each moment tinged with a significance that it otherwise wouldn't have possessed. the simplest actions—a smile, a touch, a shared silence—became imbued with profound meaning. your heart swelled, enraptured by the beauty of connection, and your soul reveled in the comfort of knowing and being known.

as the days passed, those gentle threads of attachment intertwined, forming an intricate tapestry. each shared experience, each memory, added a new thread, strengthening the bond and deepening the sense of unity. it was a masterpiece of human emotion, a testament to the power of connection that filled your heart with warmth and light. the world felt richer, more vibrant, as if seen through a lens that sharpened every detail and amplified every sensation. but attachment, for all its beauty, carried a darker undertone. like a vine creeping up the side of a grand old mansion, it began to strangle, its grip tightening imperceptibly. what was once a source of joy and comfort transformed into a source of anxiety and fear. the delicate balance between freedom and dependence tipped, and your heart, once light and free, grew heavy with the weight of expectation and longing.

In this duality lay the true peril of attachment. It was a slow, insidious poison, sweet in its initial taste but deadly as it coursed through your veins. The same connection that brought life and color could, in an instant, become a noose, choking the very essence of the self. Your mind became consumed with thoughts of the other, every moment apart a silent torment, every slight perceived as a dagger to the heart.

you loved attachment. you loved love. the depth of your emotions was a wellspring of inspiration, each feeling a stroke of color, a line in a sketch, a form in a block of clay. you embraced your emotions, delving into their depths because they breathed life into your art. sculpting and painting were your lifelines, your way of interpreting the world and expressing the inexpressible. you found beauty in every raw edge, every shade of shadow and light, every curve and angle that made up the diverse tapestry of art. art was your sanctuary, a realm where diversity reigned supreme. each piece, whether a painting or a sculpture, told a unique story, resonated with a distinct voice. you loved the freedom it granted, the way it allowed you to channel your deepest feelings into something tangible, something that could be seen and touched. the fluidity of art mirrored the fluidity of your emotions, capturing the fleeting, the ephemeral, and the eternal in one breathtaking sweep.

what you didn't love, was attending your boyfriend's opening art show to show your support, only to find yourself standing in front of what he deemed his masterpiece. the centerpiece of the entire exhibit was a sculpture of you, rendered in painstaking detail, nude, in a scandalous position. the marble gleamed under the gallery lights, every curve and line of your body exposed for the world to see. jackson saw it as a pinnacle of his artistic achievement, a celebration of your form and your intimacy. he looked at it with pride, his eyes shining with the fervor of creation. but to you, it was a betrayal, a public humiliation. every whisper, every gaze, felt like a thousand needles piercing your skin, stripping away your dignity layer by layer. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing inward as the weight of judgment and exposure crushed your spirit.

you couldn't breathe. the air was thick, suffocating, filled with the murmurs of the onlookers and the indifferent hum of the gallery. your chest tightened, panic rising as your eyes darted around for an escape. you felt the sting of tears, hot and unforgiving, blurring your vision. without thinking, you turned and ran, the murmurs growing louder, more accusing, as you fled the gallery. you ran until your legs burned, until your breath came in ragged gasps, until the noise and the lights of the gallery were far behind you. you stumbled onto a set of stairs, collapsing onto them, your strength spent. the world around you faded into a blur, and you buried your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body.

the cold stone of the steps pressed against your skin, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. you cried for the trust that had been broken, for the exposure you hadn't asked for, for the art that had turned against you. you had loved attachment, had loved love, had embraced every emotion because it allowed you to create. but in that moment, it felt like those very emotions were tearing you apart, leaving you raw and vulnerable, exposed to the harsh judgment of the world.

your tears flowed freely, each one a testament to the pain and the betrayal you felt. the love you had cherished, the attachment you had valued, seemed like cruel mockeries, twisting the knife deeper into your heart. you had poured your soul into your art, into your relationship, only to have it thrown back at you in the most brutal of ways. and so you cried, the steps becoming your sanctuary, the darkness of the night offering a cold, indifferent comfort as you wept for the love and the attachment that had led you to this moment of utter despair.

jackson trailed behind you, the sound of his footsteps echoing against the cold night air. when he found you on the steps, crumpled and broken, he paused, his silhouette stark against the dim streetlights. for a moment, he simply watched, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you crying, your body wracked with sobs. the indifference in his gaze was chilling, a sharp contrast to the tenderness you had once believed existed between you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “causing a scene like that in the middle of my show?” you looked up, your face streaked with tears, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “you humiliated me,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “you’ve shit all over my reputation.”

his eyes flashed with anger and disdain. “you have no idea what art is,” he spat. “you’re clueless. that sculpture was a masterpiece, a celebration of you, and you just made a fool of yourself and me.” his words struck you like physical blows, each one harder than the last. you struggled to find your voice, to make him understand the depth of your hurt. “it wasn’t art,” you whispered. “it was a betrayal. you exposed me to everyone, without my consent, without even thinking about how i would feel.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. “you’re overreacting. you always do. that piece was about beauty, about vulnerability. you’re just too blind to see it.”

with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone on the steps, your tears flowing freely once more. the echo of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving a void where his presence had been. you felt as if the ground had opened up beneath you, swallowing you in a chasm of despair and betrayal. you knew what art was. art was your lifeblood, your passion, your way of making sense of the world. you understood its power, its ability to evoke emotions and provoke thought. nevertheless, in that moment, you realized you had forgotten what love was. love wasn’t supposed to feel like that. it wasn’t supposed to leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable, abandoned and broken.

the steps were cold and unforgiving beneath you, a cruel reminder of the harsh reality you found yourself in. the night pressed in around you, its silence a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your heart. you had loved him, had believed in the connection you shared, but now it felt like a cruel joke, a painful illusion. you sat there, your face buried in your hands, trying to piece together the fragments of your shattered heart. the art you had loved, the emotions you had cherished, all seemed tainted now, twisted by the betrayal you had experienced. you had thought you understood love, had believed in its beauty and its power, but now it felt like a distant memory, something you couldn’t quite grasp.

and so you cried, the tears falling silently as you tried to make sense of the pain, the betrayal, the loss. you cried for the love that had turned into a weapon, for the art that had been twisted into something cruel. you cried for the trust that had been broken, and for the heart that had been shattered. in the quiet of the night, you felt the weight of your emotions, their depth and their intensity. you had loved deeply, had felt every emotion with a fervor that fueled your art. but in that moment, on those cold steps, you felt the sharp sting of love’s betrayal, and the emptiness it left behind.

the night wore on, the stars glittering coldly above, indifferent to your pain. and as you sat there, alone and broken, you realized that while you understood art, you had forgotten what love truly was. it wasn’t the grand gestures or the passionate declarations. it was the quiet moments of understanding, the gentle touch of reassurance, the unspoken bond that held two hearts together. you had forgotten that love was supposed to heal, not hurt. it was supposed to uplift, not tear down. and in that moment, you vowed to remember, to never let anyone make you forget again. the tears continued to fall, but beneath them, a resolve began to form, a determination to reclaim the love and the art that were rightfully yours, to find the strength to rise from the ashes of your heartbreak and create anew.

the club was a throbbing pulse of music and light, a sanctuary for those seeking to drown their sorrows or celebrate fleeting moments of joy. you found yourself there, the need to escape the pain and humiliation driving you to its neon embrace. the air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and anticipation, each beat of the music resonating through your body like a heartbeat. you made your way to the bar, ordering a drink to numb the ache in your chest. the liquid was a fiery solace, burning down your throat and spreading warmth through your veins. one drink turned into another, and another, as you tried to drink the night away, to forget the betrayal, the hurt, the sculpture that had stripped you bare in more ways than one.

but as the air grew tighter and the room spun slightly with the haze of alcohol, you felt the need for a moment of clarity, of fresh air. you stepped outside, the cool night air a contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the club. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a box of cigarettes, your fingers fumbling as you searched for your lighter. It was gone, lost in the chaos of the night.

“fuck,” you muttered quietly, frustration boiling over. as you looked up, you saw a man standing nearby, a smile playing on his lips as he flicked his lighter open. the small flame danced in the darkness, casting a warm glow on his face. “need a light?” he asked, his voice smooth and warm, like a balm to your frayed nerves.

you nodded, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “yeah, thanks.” he stepped closer, the flame catching the tip of your cigarette. you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and bringing a strange sense of calm. as you exhaled, he cracked a joke, something about fate bringing a cigarette and a lighter together. you laughed, the sound surprising you with its lightness.

he lit his own cigarette, taking a drag as he turned slightly, giving you a glimpse of the tattoo on the back of his neck—a butterfly, delicate and intricate, its wings poised as if ready to take flight. “that’s a beautiful tattoo,” you said, your eyes tracing the lines of the butterfly. he glanced back at you, a faint smile touching his lips. “thanks. i like butterflies. got a few of them at home.”

“they’re beautiful,” you admitted, the honesty in your voice surprising even you. “especially monarch butterflies. there’s something about them that’s just mesmerizing.” he didn’t respond immediately, instead reaching into his pocket and pulling out a marker. taking your hand gently, he began to draw, the marker’s tip gliding over your skin. when he finished, he held up your wrist, showing you the butterfly he had drawn there—a monarch, its wings spread wide in a silent declaration of beauty and freedom.

“now you have a butterfly of your own,” he said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of warmth. “to remind you of their beauty.”

you looked at the butterfly on your wrist, a smile forming on your lips. it was a small gesture, but it held a world of meaning, a moment of connection that pierced through the haze of pain and alcohol. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the city’s distant hum. he nodded, a silent smile on his face, before turning and walking back into the club, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the butterfly on your wrist. the night seemed a little less dark, the weight of your emotions a little lighter.

as you stood there, the cigarette burning slowly between your fingers, you felt a glimmer of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, beauty could still be found. the butterfly was a symbol, a promise that you could find your way back to the love and the art that had always been your sanctuary. you took another drag of your cigarette, the smoke swirling around you like a protective veil. the club’s music thumped in the background, a distant reminder of the chaos you had escaped. but in this moment, with the butterfly on your wrist and the memory of a stranger’s kindness, you felt a small but significant shift within you.

the next day, you found solace in the familiar embrace of your studio. the room was filled with the quiet hum of creativity, the soft scraping of tools against clay, the muted whispers of students deep in their work. your hands moved deftly over the surface of your sculpture, the tactile sensation of the material grounding you, offering a brief respite from the emotional turmoil that still lingered from the night before. your fingers traced the curves and lines, each motion a silent meditation, an attempt to channel the chaos inside you into something tangible, something beautiful. the sculpture began to take shape, a reflection of your innermost thoughts and feelings, an expression of the vulnerability and strength that intertwined within you.

as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your work, the studio door creaked open, and your friend poked her head in. jihyo was a vibrant presence, her energy infectious, and her smile always managing to brighten the darkest of days. “hey, you,” she called, waving you over. “let's step out for a smoke. you look like you need a break.”

you hesitated, your hands still covered in clay, but her insistence was hard to resist. with a sigh, you wiped your hands and followed her out, the studio door closing softly behind you. the fresh air was a welcome change, and the courtyard was quiet, a peaceful oasis amidst the bustling campus. jihyo handed you a cigarette, and you lit it, the familiar act bringing a semblance of calm. she leaned against the wall, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. “alright, spill it. what’s bugging you?”

you took a drag of your cigarette, the smoke curling around you. “jackson and i broke up,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. her eyes widened in surprise. “what? when? what happened?”

you recounted the events of the previous night, the betrayal and humiliation still raw in your mind. as you spoke, her expression shifted from shock to anger.

“he did what?” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “that sick son of a bitch, how could he think that was okay?” you shrugged, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “he called it art. i called it betrayal. we saw things differently.”

jihyo shook her head, her anger palpable. “you deserve so much better than that. he had no right to expose you like that.” as she spoke, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the man from the previous night. he was walking by, his posture relaxed, but his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the recognition in his gaze mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment you had experienced.

he seemed as shocked as you were, but he recovered quickly, a smile tugging at his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, the memory of his kindness a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. “hey, jihyo,” you said, nudging her gently and nodding in his direction. “do you know who that is?”

she followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of him. “oh, that’s jeon jungkook. he works in the building department. total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” her words were blunt, her tone dismissive, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity. jungkook glanced back at you once more before continuing on his way, the smile still lingering on his face. you watched him go, the memory of his smile and the butterfly he had drawn on your wrist vivid in your mind.

you nodded absently, still watching him from a distance. “yeah, sure. i’ll keep that in mind.” as the two of you finished your cigarettes and headed back to the studio, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was different from the way jihyo described him. there was a gentleness in his eyes, a quiet kindness that intrigued you. you didn’t know what the future held, but for now, the memory of his smile and the butterfly on your wrist gave you a small glimmer of hope, a reminder that beauty and kindness could still be found, even in the most unexpected places.

back in the studio, you lost yourself once more in the clay, the rhythm of your movements a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. each touch, each stroke of your tools, was an act of creation, a way to channel the tumult of emotions into something tangible. the world outside the studio faded away, leaving only the quiet hum of creativity and the comforting solidity of your sculpture.

the creak of the door barely registered in your focused state. it wasn’t until you sensed a presence directly in front of you that you looked up, your hands pausing mid-motion. there he was, jeon jungkook, the man from the night before, sitting casually on a stool, his eyes bright with curiosity and amusement. he smiled, a warm, easy smile that seemed to light up the room. “you work with such intensity,” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. “it’s really impressive.”

“thanks,” you replied, your mind flashing back to jihyo’s warning about him. you tried to keep your expression neutral, though his unexpected presence had thrown you off balance.

his gaze drifted to your wrist, where the butterfly he had drawn still lingered. “the butterfly is still there,” he noted with a hint of satisfaction. you looked down at the delicate sketch, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, seems like she likes it there.”

“she does,” he agreed, a playful glint in his eye. “but i think she’d like a drink more. would you wanna grab one with me?” for a moment, you hesitated, jihyo’s words echoing in your mind: “total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” but there was something about him, something that intrigued you. his easy confidence, his unexpected kindness from the night before—curiosity got the better of you.

“sure,” you said, nodding. “i'd like that.” his smile widened, and he stood, offering his hand to help you up. his touch was warm, steadying you as you wiped the clay from your hands. the studio felt different now, charged with a new energy, as you left with him, the door closing softly behind you.

as you and him left walked, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between you. the city lights cast a warm glow on the streets, and the night air was crisp, a perfect backdrop for the unexpected connection forming between you. “so, why have i never seen you around before?” jungkook asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as you walked side by side.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m usually in the sculpting department. it’s a bit tucked away, not many people venture there unless they have a reason to.” his eyes lit up with interest. “sculpting, huh? that’s pretty cool. i’ve always wanted to try it, but my parents insisted on something more practical. hence, the building department.”

you glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “you should chase your own freedom,” you said earnestly. “do what makes you happy.” he chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “all i chase is freedom. it’s a problem, really. but it’s why i resonate with butterflies so much. they’re the ultimate symbol of freedom and transformation.” you walked in comfortable silence for a moment, contemplating his words. jungkook’s outlook on life was refreshing, a stark contrast to the rigid expectations that had been imposed on you by others.

as you approached the bar, the lively atmosphere enveloped you. jungkook led you to a section of the room dedicated to dart throwing. the area was bustling with energy, the sound of laughter and friendly competition filling the air. “ever played darts before?” he asked, picking up a dart and spinning it expertly between his fingers. you shook your head, feeling a bit out of your element. “no, i’ve never tried it.”

he grinned, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “well, it’s time you learned.” he turned to the dartboard, aiming with practiced ease and throwing the dart. It hit the center perfectly, a bullseye. “show-off,” you teased, impressed by his skill. he laughed, handing you a dart. “come on, give it a shot. i’ll help you.”

you took the dart, feeling a bit unsure. jungkook moved behind you, his presence close and comforting. he placed one arm gently around your waist, guiding your hand with the other. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “just relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “focus on the target.”

with his guidance, you raised your arm and threw the dart. it flew straight, hitting the middle of the board. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. there was a shared moment of triumph and connection, your heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze. “see? you’ve got it,” he said softly, a proud smile lighting up his face.

you couldn’t help but smile back, the feeling of accomplishment mingling with a growing sense of attraction. for the rest of the evening, you played a few more rounds, each throw bringing you closer, both physically and emotionally. the drinks flowed, the conversation deepened, and laughter punctuated the night. as the night drew to a close, he insisted on walking you home. the streets were quieter now, the city settling into a peaceful rhythm. when you reached your doorstep, he turned to face you, his expression tender.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere. “thank you for joining me.”

“me too,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i’m glad i came.” he stepped closer, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. the simple gesture was filled with warmth and affection, sending a rush of emotions through you.

“good night,” he whispered, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. you watched him walk off into the night, your heart fluttering in your chest. the evening had been unexpected, a whirlwind of emotions and connections that left you feeling both exhilarated and introspective. as you turned to enter your home, you couldn’t help but smile, the memory of his kiss still warm on your skin.

the morning sun filtered through the trees as you walked to your campus with jihyo. the campus was beginning to stir with activity, the hustle of students preparing for the day ahead. the air was filled with the familiar sounds of footsteps, chatter, and the distant hum of city life. jihyo made sure to get a headstart, indulging in her morning vape, the sweet aroma curling around you as you walked side by side. she passed the vape to you, and you took a slow drag, savoring the fleeting tranquility before the day's demands took over. you exhaled, the vapor mingling with the crisp morning air.

as you continued your walk, you recounted the events of the previous night, your voice animated as you described jungkook’s unexpected kindness and the enjoyable evening you had shared. she listened intently, though her expression remained skeptical, her brows furrowing in concern. “and then,” you finished, handing the vape back to her, “he walked me home and gave me a kiss on the forehead. it was really sweet.”

she took a long drag, her eyes narrowing slightly. “it sounds like you had a nice time, but—” she exhaled a cloud of vapor, “—you’re playing with fire, you know that?” you raised an eyebrow, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “come on, ji. you’re being way too judgmental. he's not like that, he's different.”

she gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. “i’m just saying, be careful. you don’t know him that well yet.”

you were about to respond when you both froze mid-step. your gaze followed jihyo’s, and you saw him up ahead on the sidewalk. your heart skipped a beat, but this time, he wasn’t alone. he was walking with another girl, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. they seemed at ease with each other, sharing an intimate, comfortable closeness. jihyo glanced at you, her expression a mixture of sympathy and concern. “well,” she said softly, “i guess i wasn’t wrong.”

you stood there, feeling the weight of her words. the sight of jungkook with someone else was a jarring contrast to the warmth you had felt the previous night. it was as if the bubble of the evening’s enchantment had burst, leaving you to confront a reality that you had momentarily ignored.

the girl beside jungkook looked at him with a smile, and he responded with a tender gaze. it was a simple, yet intimate exchange that spoke volumes. the contrast between last night’s connection and this morning’s reality was stark, and you felt a pang of disappointment. jihyo’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, her voice comforting. “i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to rub it in. i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. “i know. it’s just, i thought there was something real there. maybe i was wrong.” jihyo sighed, taking another drag from her vape. “you weren’t wrong to feel what you felt, just be cautious. sometimes people aren’t as straightforward as they seem.”

you watched as jungkook and the girl walked further down the street, their figures eventually disappearing from view. the sight had left you feeling unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. the confidence you had felt the night before now seemed fragile, overshadowed by the uncertainty of this new revelation.

as you and jihyo resumed your walk, the campus loomed ahead, its familiar buildings a reminder of the routine and responsibilities awaiting you. the conversation shifted to other topics, but the weight of the morning’s encounter lingered, a reminder that even fleeting connections could carry unexpected complexities. you couldn’t help but reflect on his words about freedom and butterflies, wondering how they fit into this new, unsettling reality. the morning had started with promise but had given way to a reality that was less clear-cut, leaving you to navigate the delicate balance between hope and caution.

the studio was a sanctuary of focused energy and creative chaos. you found solace in the rhythm of your hands working the clay, shaping it with deliberate precision. each stroke was a meditative practice, allowing you to channel your thoughts and emotions into the art before you. jihyo, her boyfriend, and his sister had settled nearby. minho was absorbed in his own project, while jihyo and minyoung chatted softly, their voices a comforting background hum. the three of them had a natural camaraderie that brought a sense of ease to the studio. minyoung’s laughter rang out occasionally, a bright and cheerful sound that contrasted with the solemnity of your own concentration.

as you sculpted, your thoughts drifted back to jungkook. the image of him walking with another girl played over in your mind, like a record stuck on repeat. the warmth of last night seemed distant now, replaced by the chill of reality. you tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the form taking shape in your hands. minyoung’s voice broke through your reverie. “hey, we’re planning to head over to ji’s place tonight for a little get-together. we’re gonna have some drinks and hang out with a few friends from campus. you should come.”

you looked up, momentarily distracted from your work. “that sounds fun,” you said, though your voice betrayed a hint of reluctance. the idea of socializing was appealing, but the thought of seeing jungkook again—especially in a group setting—left you feeling unsettled. jihyo noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be good for you. you’ve had a rough couple of days. a change of scenery might help you feel better.”

uou nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, i guess you’re right. i’ll come.” minyoung’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “great! it’ll be nice to hang out and unwind. we’re all looking forward to it.”

as the conversation shifted back to other topics, you tried to immerse yourself in the rhythm of sculpting once more. the tactile sensation of the clay beneath your fingers was grounding, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions. despite your efforts, your mind kept returning to Jungkook. the casual intimacy you had witnessed, the way he had interacted with the girl—every detail seemed to replay itself in your thoughts. jihyo and minho were absorbed in their conversation with minyoung, their voices a blend of excitement and lightheartedness. Occasionally, jihyo would glance over at you, her expression a mix of concern and encouragement. her presence was a reminder of the friendship and support you had, even when things felt uncertain.

the minutes ticked by as you worked, the sculpting process a meditative balm for your frayed nerves. each detail you added to your piece was a small victory, a way to reclaim a sense of control amidst the emotional turbulence. when the end of the class approached, you felt a mixture of relief and anticipation. the prospect of the evening’s gathering offered a potential escape from the weight of your thoughts, a chance to immerse yourself in the company of friends and let the worries of the past few days drift away.

jihyo and minho packed up their things, and you followed suit, feeling a sense of camaraderie as you prepared to leave the studio. minyoung chatted animatedly about the evening’s plans, her enthusiasm infectious despite the lingering doubts in your mind. as you walked out of the studio and headed toward the campus exit, jihyo fell into step beside you. her presence was comforting, a reminder of the support you had. “remember,” she said softly, “tonight’s about relaxing and having a good time. don’t let your worries overshadow it.”

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you stepped into the vibrant energy of the campus. the evening ahead held the promise of distraction and connection, a chance to shift your focus and enjoy the company of friends. as you walked alongside jihyo and minho, you tried to embrace the hope that tonight might bring a welcome reprieve from the storm of emotions you had been navigating. the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the campus as you made your way to her place. with each step, you hoped for a sense of relief and a chance to momentarily escape the complexities of your thoughts.

the evening's promise of relief and distraction dissolved like smoke as you stepped into jihyo’s house. the warmth and laughter that greeted you were abruptly overshadowed by the sight of jungkook among the group of people already there. the room was buzzing with energy, the clinking of bottles and the murmur of conversation filling the air.

jihyo’s cheerful greeting faltered as her gaze locked onto jungkook. she snapped her neck to minho, a look of surprise and irritation crossing her face. “i didn’t know you’d invited jungkook too,” she said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. minho raised his hands defensively, a sheepish grin on his face. “i had no idea there was tension. i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

you stood there, frozen in the doorway, feeling a chill seep into the warmth of the room. jungkook’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a silent acknowledgment of the situation. his smile faltered slightly when he noticed your lack of reciprocation, the tension between you palpable.

jihyo guided you into the room, her demeanor shifting to one of concern. whe led you to a circle on the floor where the others were already settling in. minho produced bottles of soju, his enthusiasm for the evening evident as he set them down and suggested starting a drinking game. the game began with a lively energy. the group’s laughter and teasing filled the space, but you found it difficult to engage. as the rounds progressed, the questions and challenges became increasingly daring. mina, one of the other girls, challenged jihyo to either take her top off or drink. just as she was about to comply, minho interjected, suggesting she down an entire bottle instead. the room erupted in laughter, a sound that felt distant and hollow to you.

jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching for a reaction. you met his gaze briefly, your own expression unyielding. the game continued around you, the atmosphere growing more frenetic and less comfortable.

jihyo’s eyes sparkled with a new idea as she turned to him, her voice carrying a playful tone. “jungkook, your turn. kiss the prettiest girl in the room or take a drink.” the challenge seemed to electrify the room. his eyes flickered to you once more, his expression a mix of resolve and anticipation. he reached for the bottle of soju, his fingers brushing its neck, before setting it down with a decisive motion. without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

the room erupted in cheers, the sound washing over you in a wave of unwanted attention. jungkook pulled away, his smile radiant and expectant, but you remained unmoved. your eyes were cool, indifferent. the kiss, meant to be playful or provocative, felt hollow and forced. the jubilation of the room contrasted sharply with your own feelings. you took a swig from the soju bottle, the liquid burning as it went down. the alcohol did little to numb the sting of the evening’s events. with a heavy sigh, you excused yourself from the circle and walked toward the door.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a sharp, refreshing clarity. the sky above was dotted with stars, a serene contrast to the chaos you had just left behind. you fumbled with your cigarette box, fingers trembling slightly as you retrieved a cigarette. with a practiced motion, you lit it and inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around you in a calming haze. the solitude of the outdoor space provided a temporary refuge from the din inside. uou leaned against the wall, the cigarette between your fingers a small anchor in the storm of your thoughts. the kiss from jungkook had left you unsettled, and the evening’s veneer of camaraderie had revealed a deeper undercurrent of discomfort and disconnection.

as you stood there, lost in thought, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party inside seemed faint and distant. the cool breeze carried away the heat of the moment, leaving you with a sense of clarity and resolve. you had come seeking relief, but instead had confronted a reality that was as complex and unpredictable as ever. the cigarette burned down slowly, the embers glowing softly in the night. you finished it with a deep, contemplative drag, savoring the quiet before re-entering the fray of the evening. with a final exhale, you flicked the spent cigarette away and prepared to face whatever the rest of the night might hold.

the night air had a crisp bite to it, a contrast to the clamor of the party inside. you were about to step back into the house, hoping to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, when a shadow fell across your path. you looked up, only to find jungkook standing there, his presence as sudden as it was unexpected.

he leaned down slightly, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. his smile was disarming, and his voice carried a playful tone as he spoke. “why’ve you been so cold to me?” he asked, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

you scoffed, the earlier tension bubbling back to the surface. “why don’t you ask your friend from this morning?” you shot back, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

his laughter was soft and warm, cutting through the chill of the night. “soel? oh, she’s just a friend. nothing more,” he said, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. his words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned and silent. the embarrassment of your earlier jealousy washed over you like a tide, coloring your cheeks with a faint blush. he seemed to sense your discomfort and offered a reassuring smile. “don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice gentle. “jealousy looks good on you, by the way.”

your heart skipped a beat at his comment, a flush of heat spreading across your face. the candidness of his words, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made it difficult to maintain your composure. flustered, you looked away, struggling to regain your equilibrium. before you could fully gather yourself, his presence at your side felt oddly comforting. he matched your pace as you turned back toward the house, trailing behind you with a casual, easy stride. the sound of the party inside grew louder as you approached the door, the energy of the gathering spilling out into the hallway.

the night’s revelry had left you intoxicated and unsteady on your feet. the laughter and music from downstairs seemed to blend into a distant hum as you made your way up to jihyo’s room. the stairwell wobbled slightly under your steps, each ascent feeling like an effort as you navigated the dizzying effects of the evening’s drinks. when you finally reached her room, you stumbled through the door and collapsed onto her bed. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a gentle light across the space. the bed felt like a comforting refuge as you sank into its embrace, your head spinning pleasantly from the alcohol.

as you rested, the door creaked open, and you heard the shuffling of footsteps approaching. your hazy vision slowly made out jungkook’s figure as he stumbled into the room, equally inebriated but with a purposeful gait. he looked around, his eyes finally landing on you with a mix of concern and amusement.

“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice a bit slurred. the question hung in the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and the faint scent of perfume. his smile was lopsided, his gaze soft as he settled down on the bed beside you. “i came to check on you,” he said, his voice carrying a soothing warmth that contrasted with the cool night air.

your heart fluttered at his words, a sensation that felt both thrilling and disorienting. as he sat next to you, his presence was comforting and reassuring, an anchor amidst the swirl of emotions you were feeling. he looked at you with a gentle smile, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance.

“you’re just as pretty drunk as you are sober,” he said, his tone affectionate and teasing. the compliment made you blush deeper, and you instinctively raised your hands to cover your face. “my makeup must be a mess,” you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. jungkook shook his head with a soft chuckle, his movements deliberate and careful. “makeup is just art, and you can't mess up art,” he said, his voice tender as he leaned in closer. his face was inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. his fingers gently traced the lines of your face, his touch light as he began to wipe away the smudges of makeup from under your eyes.

the intimacy of the moment seemed to stretch and contract, a space filled with a growing anticipation. jungkook’s gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that matched the softness of his touch. the distance between you closed, the world outside the room fading into insignificance.

when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was hot and heavy, a potent mix of desire and need. it was a kiss that spoke volumes, expressing the unspoken feelings and the intoxicated passion that had been simmering beneath the surface. his lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your heart race, the kiss deepening with every passing second.

as the kiss deepened, the rest of the world seemed to dissolve into a blur. the music from downstairs, the laughter, the people—it all became a distant echo compared to the closeness of his embrace. the kiss was a shared moment of escape, a brief interlude where nothing else mattered but the connection between you and him. “if we continue,” he murmured, his hot breath grazing your lips. “i won't be able to stop myself.”

his eyes searched yours for consent, and even though you were tipsy, you knew exactly what you were doing. with a nod, you let yourself indulge in it, the anticipation building with every step. the room was dimly lit, with the occasional flicker from the candle casting shadows on the walls. the smell of the candle, something sweet and exotic, filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of his cologne. jungkook closed the door behind you, and in that instant, the outside world was forgotten.

once on the bed, your bodies became a tangled mess of limbs and passion. his hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body with a hunger that was almost desperate. you felt his tattoo flutter against your neck as he kissed along your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. you pulled at his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. the fabric gave way, revealing his toned abs and the tattoo that was inked into the flesh at the base of his neck—a delicate monarch, its wings unfurling in an intricate dance.

his mouth found yours again, and the kiss grew more urgent. your hands fumbled with the buttons of his pants, and he groaned when you finally slipped your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. he reciprocated, tugging at the hem of your dress, eager to explore what lay beneath. as the fabric was pushed aside, his eyes widened at the sight of your lacy underwear. “fuck,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire. “so fucking dirty.”

his words were a heady mix of praise and demand, sending a rush of heat to your core. your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. the coolness of the room hit your skin, making your nipples pebble with excitement. his eyes roamed over you, and you felt exposed, but in the best way possible. his hands followed the path of his gaze, cupping your tits and gently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. a soft moan escaped your lips, and he took it as an invitation to lean in and suck one into his mouth. the sensation was electric, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

his hands moved down to the waistband of your underwear, and with a quick motion, he slid them down your legs. you felt a moment of vulnerability, but it was quickly overshadowed by the desire coursing through your veins. jungkook kissed along your stomach, making his way down to the apex of your thighs. his tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, and you gripped the bed sheets tightly. “oh, god,” you breathed, your voice a desperate whisper.

his eyes never left yours as he positioned himself over you, his own pants discarded on the floor. he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on. even in the dim light, you could see the intensity in his gaze, the raw need that mirrored your own. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice gruff with lust.

you nodded, and it was all he yearned for as he entered you. the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that had you gasping. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move. his thrusts were deep and slow at first, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered filthy words in your ear, urging you to let go.

you did, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your hands dug into his back, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he moved. your bodies fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had been searching for their match. the bed rocked gently under you, the rhythmic sound mixing with your ragged breaths and the slap of skin on skin.

you lost track of time as you both chased the high of climax. his dirty talk grew more intense, and your responses grew louder. it was a dance of dominance and submission, each of you pushing the other closer to the edge. when you finally reached it, your body convulsed around him, and you called out his name like a prayer. jungkook followed shortly after, his dick twitching as if it was his first time.

the morning light filtered through the curtains with a muted glow, casting a soft, hazy light across jihyo’s room. you stirred from sleep, the warmth of the bed a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. as you slowly regained consciousness, your eyes fell upon the scene beside you. jungkook laid there, his presence so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. the shocking realization hit you as you took in the sight of him naked beside you.

panic surged through you as fragmented memories of the night before flickered in your mind. the kiss, the heat, the intensity—all of it came crashing back. the vividness of those moments left you feeling both disoriented and mortified. with trembling hands, you scrambled to gather your clothes, hastily dressing as you tried to make sense of the chaos.

in a frantic rush, you stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. the house was still quiet, save for the soft murmurs of the early morning. wgen you reached the bottom, you were met with jihyo’s intense gaze. her expression was a mixture of concern and exasperation, a look that made you feel like you were about to face her wrath. “i could strangle you right now,” she said, her voice sharp and laced with an underlying tension. the threat in her words was softened only by the lack of her morning smoke, a ritual she hadn’t yet indulged in. you stood there, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach. the scolding began, a tirade of reprimands that blended into a blur of guilt and embarrassment.

the weight of your actions pressed heavily upon you, and though you tried to focus on her words, your mind was elsewhere. the guilt of the night before, the uncertainty of what you had done, and the unanticipated consequences all swirled together in a disorienting mix. during class, her scolding continued, her frustration evident. you sat there, trying to stay composed as the minutes ticked by. the lecture on art and technique seemed distant, a backdrop to the internal turmoil you were experiencing. it was only when a familiar face appeared that you were jolted from your reverie.

the girl who had been with jungkook the previous morning walked in and took a seat with you and jihyo. she greeted you with a polite smile, and as she settled in, she mentioned needing help with her sculpture. you gave her your notes, watching her as she began to work with the clay, your mind still reeling from the events of the night. as she sculpted, your gaze inadvertently fell to her wrist. there, clearly visible, was a drawing of a monarch butterfly.

the sight of it sent a jolt through you, your stomach twisting in a sickening churn. the connection hit you like a physical blow, and the room seemed to spin around you. you were frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the drawing that mirrored the one jungkook had drawn on you. unable to stay any longer, you excused yourself, the rush of emotions and physical discomfort becoming too overwhelming to ignore. you hurried to the bathroom, the need to escape the situation pressing heavily on you. once inside, you leaned over the sink and, overwhelmed by a combination of betrayal, hangover, and emotional turmoil, you began to vomit. each heave felt like it was ripping something deeper inside of you, the physical pain amplifying the emotional distress.

as you clung to the sink, the cool porcelain against your forehead offering a small comfort, you were consumed by a storm of conflicting feelings. the events of the night had left their mark, and now, the stark reality of the situation was unfolding with cruel clarity. as you stepped out of the bathroom, the heaviness in your chest felt almost tangible. the earlier discomfort was still fresh, and you were hoping for a moment of peace. instead, the moment you emerged, you heard a voice calling for you. you turned, only to see jungkook walking towards you with a grin that seemed far too bright given the situation.

“running out without a goodbye kiss? that’s pure evil,” he said, his tone light and teasing. but as you met his gaze, you saw no trace of irony or humor—just a genuine, unfaltering smile that made your stomach churn once again.

you forced yourself to look him in the eyes, trying to steady your emotions. “i just talked to soel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “she has a butterfly tattoo on her wrist. the same one you drew on me.”

jungkook’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, he seemed unfazed by your revelation. “oh, that? i draw that on all my friends,” he said nonchalantly. “why does it bug you?”

the casualness of his response left you reeling. you stared at him, feeling a cold wave of betrayal wash over you. “is that what i am to you? just a friend?” his reaction was almost mechanical. “yeah,” he said, shrugging slightly. “is that an issue for you?”

the simple, matter-of-fact way he spoke was like a punch to the gut. you were stunned, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. the realization that you had misinterpreted his intentions, that your emotions had been tangled in a misunderstanding, left you feeling hollow. without another word, you turned away, your heart racing and your mind clouded with a storm of betrayal and shock. you walked briskly, your steps echoing with a sense of finality as you left jungkook behind. the turmoil inside you was a jumbled mess, each step away from him only amplifying the confusion and hurt.

the campus was bustling with the usual midday energy as you joined jihyo, minho, and minyoung for lunch. you sat down at the table with them, the usual chatter and laughter around you feeling like a distant echo. as they talked animatedly about their day, you remained silent, the weight of the morning’s events heavy on your shoulders.

minho finally broke through the silence, noticing the way you said nothing. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentle but concerned. the question was like a dam breaking. you tried to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they spilled over, each drop a mix of frustration, sadness, and disappointment. the raw emotion that had been building up inside you was finally released, and you found yourself unable to stop the flood.

through your tears, you recounted the events of the night before—the drunken mistake, the disheartening conversation with jungkook, and the sting of betrayal. your voice trembled with each word, the hurt and confusion palpable as you shared your story.

as you spoke, you could see the shock and horror on their faces. minho’s eyes widened with disbelief, and minyoung’s expression turned to one of sympathy. but it was jihyo’s reaction that truly struck you. her face darkened with anger, and her eyes blazed with a fierce resolve. “might actually fucking kill him,” she said with a steely determination, her words delivered in a low, dangerous tone. the promise was almost soothing in its intensity, a sign of her fierce loyalty and anger on your behalf.

you shook your head, feeling a fresh wave of guilt wash over you. “no, don’t,” you managed to say between sobs. “it’s my fault. i was too trusting. i should have seen it coming.”

her expression softened as she reached out to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “don’t blame yourself,” she said firmly. “you didn’t do anything wrong. he’s the one who failed you. focus on yourself and your work. you deserve better than this.” but despite her reassurances, you found it difficult to shift your focus. jungkook’s smile, the way he had looked at you, the crushing realization of his indifference—all of it was still vividly etched in your mind. the pain of the betrayal felt like a persistent ache, a constant reminder of your misplaced trust and the emotional turmoil it had caused.

as lunch continued, you struggled to engage in the conversation. your mind kept drifting back to him, replaying the moments and words that had shattered your sense of stability. the comfort of jihyo’s words was overshadowed by the persistent sting of your own emotions. the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, the echoes of your thoughts louder than any external noise. the distraction of the campus environment did little to ease your turmoil, and the weight of your feelings continued to anchor you in a state of unresolved pain.

in the solitude of the studio, the air was heavy with the smell of clay and the faint traces of your exhaustion. the sculpture in front of you was nearly complete, a painstakingly crafted representation of a woman’s head—her expression a haunting blend of serenity and despair. the piece symbolized a submission to love that consumed and overwhelmed. her eyes were hollowed out, the sockets deep and dark, conveying an intense and tragic devotion. the gouged-out eyes were not merely a detail; they were the very essence of her surrender, the ultimate sacrifice for the one she loved.

your hands trembled slightly as you made the final adjustments, the weight of your own emotions interwoven with the piece. you took a step back to admire your work, your heart heavy with the sense of completion mingled with the burden of what it represented. the sculpture was a mirror to your own turbulent feelings, capturing the essence of devotion and its potential for destruction.

the quiet of the studio was suddenly disrupted by a voice behind you. “where are her eyes?” jungkook asked, his tone inquisitive yet casual. you stiffened, momentarily frozen by the intrusion. your gaze remained fixed on the sculpture, trying to compose yourself. “she gouged her eyes out,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of the sculpture’s meaning. “simply because her lover wanted her to. she would do anything for him.”

jungkook’s footsteps approached, and you felt him come closer, his presence a palpable force in the room. he stood behind you, his gaze fixed on the sculpture as he admired your work. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he said, his voice sincere but carrying an undercurrent of something else.

you kept your back to him, your attention focused on the sculpture, trying to ignore the effect his presence had on you. but then, you felt him press closer, his body nearly touching your back. he leaned in, his breath warm and tickling your ear as he gently pushed aside your hair. “are you mad at me?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. you struggled to maintain your composure, the tension between you palpable. “i have no reason to be,” you replied, though your voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

you felt him smirk against your skin, the touch of his lips sending shivers down your spine. his kisses, light and teasing, trailed down your neck, each touch intensifying your internal conflict. “we shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, your voice wavering. his breath was hot against your ear as he replied, “that’s what makes it so fun.”

your resistance wavered as he continued to kiss your neck, the pleasure mingling with your sense of guilt and confusion. You knew it was wrong, yet the allure of the moment was powerful. finally, you turned around to face him, the decision made despite your inner turmoil. you allowed him to kiss you, the contact both electrifying and disorienting.

the kiss was intense, a clash of emotions and desires that left you breathless. jungkook’s touch was both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the complications that had arisen between you. as you surrendered to the kiss, the studio’s quiet solitude seemed to collapse around you, leaving only the swirling mixture of passion and regret. in the midst of the embrace, the sculpture remained a silent witness, its hollow eyes a stark reminder of the emotional sacrifice and the consuming nature of love. the art piece and the reality of your feelings intertwined, creating a poignant reflection of the complicated interplay between desire and devotion.

his hands found their way to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer to him. you felt his arousal pressing against you, and despite your inner reservations, your body responded instinctively. the attraction was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to have a will of its own. his kiss grew deeper, more demanding, as his hands began to explore your body. your own hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscles tighten beneath your touch. the fabric of your clothes felt like a barrier to the connection you both craved, and without a word, jungkook began to remove them. the anticipation grew as each layer fell away, revealing your skin to the cool studio air.

you found yourself bent over the sculpting table, jungkook’s hands tracing your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he whispered dirty words into your ear, his voice thick with desire, and you felt your knees wobble. the reality of the situation washed over you—the illicitness of it, the raw need you felt for each other—and you realized that this was what you had been craving, despite the guilt.

his fingers dipped lower, finding the wetness between your legs, and you gasped into his mouth. jungkook’s touch grew more insistent, and the sculpture beneath your palms seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your heart. you were no longer the artist—you were the art, being shaped and molded by his desires.

his hand slid away, and you heard the sound of his belt buckle. your heart raced as he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his erection teasing your entrance. “are you sure?” you managed to ask, the tremor in your voice betraying your nerves. “do you want me?” he replied, his voice a challenge. your body answered for you, arching back, begging for him to fill you. and with one powerful thrust, he did.

the sensation was overwhelming—his bare skin against yours, the heat of his body surrounding you. his grip tightened on your hips as he began to move, the rhythm punctuated by your moans and the slap of skin against skin. the intensity grew with each stroke, the pleasure a wildfire that consumed every rational thought. you could feel his breath on your neck, his voice a gruff whisper of praise and desire. your eyes closed, and the sculpture, the studio, the world outside—it all faded away, leaving only the two of you and the primal dance of your bodies.

his thrusts grew harder, deeper, as he claimed you from behind. the sculpture was forgotten, a symbol of a love that was now a tangible reality in the form of this explosive union. you reached back, your hand finding the base of his cock, and you felt his body tense with pleasure. the air was thick with passion, the scent of sex and clay a heady mix that intoxicated you both. jungkook’s movements grew erratic, and you knew he was close. with one final, powerful push, he reached his climax, his warmth filling you as he groaned your name.

you collapsed onto the table, spent and trembling, as jungkook leaned over you, his breath ragged. for a moment, there was only silence, the two of you trying to find your bearings in the aftermath of the storm.

but the quiet was broken by the sudden sound of the studio door opening, and you both froze. your eyes widened with panic, and jungkook’s grip on you tightened. “we can’t get caught,” you whispered, your heart racing with fear and excitement. he smirked, his eyes dark with mischief. “we won’t,” he assured you, his voice low and seductive. “not until we’re finished, anyway.” the tension grew as the footsteps grew louder, and jungkook began to move again, slower this time, his strokes long and deliberate. the game of hiding in plain sight was thrilling, a dangerous edge to the passion that had overtaken you both.

the newcomer to the studio called out a greeting, and his hand covered your mouth, muffling any sound you might make. you bit down on your lip, stifling a moan, as he continued to fuck you with an urgent need that seemed to defy the danger of being discovered. your heart hammered in your chest, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

his movements grew more deliberate, his hips grinding into yours with a silent rhythm that matched the beat of your racing pulse. you could feel the eyes of the sculpture on you, the hollow sockets seeming to judge you even as you writhed in pleasure beneath his touch. the footsteps grew closer, and his grip tightened. he leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispered, “be quiet, baby. come for me.” the words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you did as he asked, your orgasm building like a crescendo.

just as the person entered the room, you reached the peak, your body convulsing around jungkook’s cock. he groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your neck, and you clamped down on his hand to keep from crying out. the wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling and exposed. his strokes grew shallower, his cock still hard and pulsing inside you. the footsteps stopped just outside the partition that separated the main studio from your makeshift private corner. the tension was unbearable, a tight coil of excitement and fear that made every nerve ending in your body feel alive.

his eyes locked with yours, and you saw the challenge in them. you knew he was enjoying this as much as he enjoyed the sex itself—the risk, the danger, the thrill of the secret. your breathing was ragged, your body still quaking from the orgasm that had torn through you, and yet you remained silent, waiting. the person in the room spoke, their voice muffled by the wall of clay that separated you. jungkook’s thrusts grew more gentle now, almost tender, as he slowly pulled out of you. you felt the warmth of his seed inside you, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

you both waited, your breaths syncing as the footsteps grew fainter, moving away from your hiding spot. once the room was empty again, jungkook leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing yours with a softness that seemed at odds with the ferocity of your encounter. “see?” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “no one will ever know our little secret.”

you pushed him away gently, sitting up and adjusting your clothes. your mind was racing, a whirlwind of emotions—shame, exhilaration, fear of being found out. but there was also something else, a dark satisfaction that seemed to hum in the air.

the sculpture loomed before you, the woman’s expression now a reflection of your own complex feelings. jungkook pulled on his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. “we can’t do this again,” you said, the finality in your voice unmistakable. but as he zipped up his pants, the smug smile on his face told you that he didn’t believe you. and deep down, neither did you. the line had been crossed, and the taste of the forbidden was too sweet to ignore.

his eyes held a promise of more to come, and despite yourself, you felt your body respond. the next chapter of this illicit story was already being written, the plot thickening with every shared glance and stolen touch. and you knew that no matter how much you tried to resist, you would be drawn back into the tumultuous dance of desire and deceit that was your relationship with him.

as jungkook stepped out of the studio, his silhouette fading into the dim light of the hallway, you were left alone with the echo of his departure. you hastily pulled your clothes back on, your hands trembling uncontrollably. each movement was a struggle against the storm of emotions raging inside you.

the studio, once a sanctuary of creation, now felt like a cage closing in around you. the quiet was oppressive, amplifying the shattering of your composure. you fought to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they began to fall, each drop a release of the turmoil you had been trying to suppress. you sank to the floor, your body trembling with the force of your sobs. the statue stood before you, its eyeless gaze a haunting reflection of your own despair. the sculpture, a representation of sacrifice and devotion, seemed to mock you now. its hollow eyes, gouged out as a symbol of surrender, mirrored the emptiness and heartbreak you felt inside.

unable to bear the sight, you were overcome by a furious, anguished energy. the intensity of your emotions erupted uncontrollably. you launched yourself at the statue, your hands and feet flailing as you knocked it over. the crash of clay against the floor was loud, a jarring sound that matched the violence of your grief. you kicked at the broken pieces, the fragments scattering across the studio floor. the destruction was cathartic yet devastating, a physical manifestation of the chaos within you. as the statue lay shattered, the pieces symbolized the fragmented state of your heart. each kick was a release, each broken shard a representation of your pain.

exhausted and overwhelmed, you slid down against the wall, the tears still flowing freely. the destruction of the sculpture had not lessened the weight of your sorrow. instead, it left you staring at the remnants, the once-beautiful work now reduced to a broken mess. you continued to cry, your body wracked with sobs as you gazed at the ruined statue. the eyeless gaze of the sculpture, now in fragments, seemed to reach out to you in a final, tragic understanding. the intense emotion of the piece was mirrored in your own shattered state. the studio, with its scattered pieces and your anguished cries, was a poignant testament to the overwhelming pain and anger you felt.

the contrast between the beauty of the sculpture and the violence of its destruction spoke to the raw intensity of your emotions. the studio, once a space of artistic expression, had become a stage for your most profound heartache. as you wept, the remnants of the statue lay around you, a somber reminder of the intricate connection between art, love, and the devastating effects of betrayal. in the end, as your sobs quieted and you sat amidst the broken pieces, the sight of the ruined sculpture served as a haunting reflection of your own emotional wreckage. the tears continued to fall, mingling with the clay fragments, a final, tragic testament to the depth of your despair.

as you gathered your belongings, the weight of the night’s events clung heavily to your shoulders. the studio, once a place of solace and creativity, now felt like a space of ruin and disillusionment. your hands moved mechanically, shoving your scattered materials into your bag. each motion was devoid of purpose, driven by a numbing emptiness rather than intent.

the soft sounds of your packing were abruptly interrupted by distant noises—low grunts and muffled groans—emanating from the studio down the hall. the sounds were raw and unsettling, a contrast to the quiet destruction you had left behind. your curiosity and dread compelled you to investigate, despite the turmoil within you.

you approached the door to the neighboring studio, its glass panel offering a distorted view into the dimly lit room. peering through, your heart sank as you recognized the scene unfolding inside. jungkook was there, engaged with a girl you couldn’t identify. the sight of them, entwined in an intimate and brutal display, was a dagger to your already fragile heart.

the cold reality of the moment was a sharp contrast to the warmth you had briefly experienced with him. you were paralyzed, unable to tear your gaze away from the scene before you. each grunt and moan was a reminder of your own vulnerability and the painful contrast between the connection you had felt and the stark betrayal unfolding before you. the sight of him with another, the passion and disregard apparent in their movements, left you feeling hollow. you had no tears left to shed; the emotional reservoir had been drained dry by the night's turmoil. the image of their bodies, entwined and fervent, was seared into your mind—a brutal symbol of your own sense of abandonment and betrayal.

turning away from the glass, you felt an eerie emptiness consume you. the world seemed to blur as you walked down the hallway, your steps heavy and unsteady. your mind was a void, a blank slate where thoughts and emotions once swirled with intensity. the encounter had left you drained, each step echoing with the weight of your disillusionment.

the cold air of the hallway seemed to press against you, a stark reminder of the isolation you felt. as you made your way home, the world around you was a distant haze. the vibrant life of the campus and the remnants of your art—the shattered statue, the chaotic emotions—faded into the background, leaving only the crushing emptiness of your thoughts. each step felt like a journey through fog, the clarity of the night’s events slipping away with each movement. the betrayal, the emotional wreckage, and the raw intensity of the moments you had witnessed had left you numb. you walked forward, but within, you remained frozen—trapped in the silence of your own heartache.

the sun rose reluctantly on the campus the next day, its light casting a dull glow through the classroom windows. you stumbled into your class, exhausted and hollow-eyed from a night spent in sleepless turmoil. the world outside felt distant, its vibrancy lost to you as you trudged through the motions of daily life. your movements were mechanical as you took your place among the scattered students. the studio, once a sanctuary of creativity, now felt foreign and unwelcoming. the empty canvas in front of you was a glaring testament to your lack of inspiration. the urge to sculpt, to create, was absent, replaced by a void of emotional fatigue and despair.

jihyo tried her best to offer comfort. her words were gentle, her presence a constant reassurance in the face of your turmoil. despite her efforts, the pain within you remained insurmountable. her attempts to console you seemed to fall short of reaching the deep chasm of your heartache. the betrayal and the haunting images from the previous night left you adrift, unable to focus or find solace.

the professor’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, announcing a new student would be joining the class. you barely registered his words, your mind elsewhere, wandering through the fog of your sleepless night. it wasn’t until you heard the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of surprise among your peers that you looked up.

your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with the new student. it was jackson. the same jackson who had once been a part of your world, now standing before you with a familiar, if unwelcome, presence. the shock of seeing him in this context, amid your already tumultuous emotions, was almost too much to bear. he met your gaze with an expression that was a mixture of apprehension and resolve. the smile he once wore with ease now seemed strained, an acknowledgment of the shared past that had ended in such distressing terms. the air in the room felt charged, the atmosphere thick with an unspoken tension. his arrival was a jarring reminder of old wounds, reopened with his unexpected reappearance.

you forced yourself to focus, trying to ignore the way your heart raced and the way your mind spun with fragmented memories of him. the professor introduced jackson, guiding him to a seat, and the room’s atmosphere shifted. the familiar face was a painful reminder of a time when things had been different, when trust and affection had colored your world.

jihyo, noticing the way your gaze lingered on him, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. you offered her a weak smile, her concern evident in her eyes. yet, despite her support, the emotional storm inside you remained uncalm. you felt as though you were caught in the eye of a hurricane, where the calm was an illusion masking the chaos within.

as jackson settled into his new spot, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the unresolved issues from your past, created a sense of disquiet. you tried to refocus on your work, but the blank canvas before you was a stark reminder of the numbness that had consumed your creativity. the rest of the class droned on, his presence a silent but heavy weight in the room. every glance in his direction felt like a step back into a storm you had barely escaped. your hands remained idle, the sculpting tools untouched as you struggled to regain some semblance of normalcy.

the day dragged on, each minute a reminder of the fractured pieces of your recent past. as the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the class, you gathered your things with a sense of resignation. the encounter with him had been a jarring disruption, but it was also a harsh reminder that the echoes of past relationships often resurface when least expected. you walked out of the classroom, your mind still clouded with the weight of your emotions. the campus, with its usual bustle of activity, felt distant and surreal. the familiar paths and faces seemed altered, as though you were navigating through a dream that had turned unsettlingly real.

the day seemed to drag endlessly as you walked out of the classroom, feeling the heavy weight of jackson’s unexpected reappearance. the campus, once a place of refuge and creativity, now felt like a labyrinth of memories and unresolved emotions. you walked with a purpose, desperate to escape the lingering sense of disquiet that his presence had stirred within you.

as you moved through the crowded hallways, lost in your thoughts, a voice called out to you, breaking through the fog of your mind. you turned slowly, your heart skipping a beat as you saw hin standing a few steps away. his expression was earnest, eyes filled with a mix of regret and hope. for a moment, you felt paralyzed, caught between the urge to flee and the reluctant desire to hear him out.

jackson took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. the touch was light, almost pleading, and you could feel the warmth of his skin through your thin sleeve. his eyes were filled with an apologetic softness that seemed to convey a depth of remorse you hadn’t anticipated. “what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the memory of the sculpture and the pain it had caused still fresh in your mind.

his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours with a sincere gravity. “i wanted to focus solely on my work,” he said, his voice laced with an honesty that was both surprising and unsettling. “it’s been difficult since you left. i lost my muse.”

the words struck you with a sharp edge, stirring a storm of conflicting emotions within you. the image of the sculpture, the public humiliation, and the way he had dismissed your feelings—all of it came rushing back. you remembered the pain and betrayal that had clouded your heart.

“you don’t get to just come back and pretend like everything’s fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “you can’t erase what you did.”

his face fell, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “i know,” he said quietly. “and I’m sorry. i had the sculpture removed. i understand that nothing will ever be the same. i just wanted to let you know that, if nothing else, i’d like to be your friend.”

his words were both unexpected and profound, offering a semblance of closure that you hadn’t anticipated. the notion of friendship, after everything that had transpired, felt both distant and comforting. you stood there, absorbing the gravity of his apology and the genuine regret that seemed to hang in the air between you. for a moment, the chaos inside you quieted, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. his offer of friendship was an olive branch, a gesture that acknowledged the hurt while striving for something different. yet, the wound was still fresh, and the idea of moving past it was daunting.

“i need time,” you said finally, your voice steady but tinged with a quiet resolve. “i can’t just pick up where we left off.” he nodded, his expression a blend of understanding and sadness. “i know,” he replied softly. “take all the time you need. i just wanted you to know i’m here if you ever want to talk.” with a final, lingering look, he turned and began to walk away. each step seemed to echo with the weight of the past and the uncertain promise of the future. you watched him go, your mind awash with a storm of emotions—anger, relief, and a bittersweet sense of closure. as you stood there alone in the corridor, the bustling noise of the campus seemed distant, as if you were enveloped in a cocoon of introspection. the conversation with jackson had stirred up old wounds, but had also offered a glimmer of resolution.

lunch on campus was always a comforting routine. the sun was high, casting dappled shadows through the leafy canopy above. you, jihyo, and minho had claimed your usual spot at a worn wooden table, the comforting hum of student chatter surrounding you. jihyo animatedly recounted her latest project, while minho nodded, occasionally chiming in with his dry wit. you were halfway through a bite of your sandwich when you saw him—jackson. he passed by with his characteristic easy grace, a slight smile playing on his lips as his eyes met yours. respectfully, he sat on a separate bench a few feet away, not wanting to intrude.

jihyo's eyes narrowed, her conversation with minho faltering as she followed your gaze. “why is he here?” she muttered, her voice barely audible but dripping with disdain. you stood up, your decision made in an instant. as you approached him, his smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of concern.

“is everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, yet tinged with uncertainty. “come sit with us,” you replied, your tone gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” his hesitation was palpable.

you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. with a grateful nod, he followed you back to the table. minho raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but it was jihyo's reaction that was most striking. her eyes widened, and she sat back, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

“jackson, this is minho,” you introduced, and he gave a polite nod. “and this is jihyo.” jackson extended his hand to her, but she simply stared him down, her gaze icy. “she may have forgotten what you did, but i sure haven’t,” she said, her voice like steel.

he withdrew his hand slowly, nodding in acknowledgment. “i understand,” he replied softly. you placed a comforting hand on jihyo’s arm. “he came for a fresh start,” you explained, your voice calm and steady. “he even got the sculpture taken down.” jihyo’s skeptical glance lingered on him, but she didn’t press further. the tension in the air was almost tangible, but his presence gradually began to feel less intrusive.

he smiled at you, a look of genuine gratitude and perhaps a hint of hope in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling a sense of warmth and relief. the past might not be easily forgotten, but in that moment, it felt like a step towards something better, something new. as the conversation slowly resumed, you couldn’t help but feel that this lunch, under the sunlit canopy, marked the beginning of a significant change—a moment of reconciliation and new beginnings.

unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure stood in the background, having noticed your whole ordeal. jungkook, leaning casually against a nearby tree, had been chatting with his friends, their laughter mingling with the warm air. but his attention had been subtly drawn to you the moment jackson appeared. his dark eyes followed every movement, every gesture you made. the way you approached jackson with a calm demeanor, the soft reassurance in your voice, and the unyielding kindness in your eyes—it all piqued his curiosity. his friends were engrossed in a lively debate about the upcoming exhibition, but he found himself only half-listening, his mind occupied with the scene unfolding at your table.

he watched as you led jackson back, noticed the tension between him and jihyo, and observed the way you mediated with such grace. jungkook brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, trying to focus back on his friends' conversation. yet, the feeling tugging at his heartstrings was undeniable, a peculiar mix of curiosity and something he couldn’t quite identify.

the laughter of his friends brought him back to the present moment, and he forced a smile, joining in their conversation. but his eyes betrayed him, darting back to you occasionally. he noted the genuine smile you exchanged with jackson, a smile that seemed to light up your entire being. he couldn’t put his finger on it. was it admiration? perhaps a touch of jealousy? he shook his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts. after all, he had no reason to feel this way. you were just another girl, albeit a talented one, whose work he respected. yet, there was something in the way you handled the situation that stirred something deep within him.

back in the studio, the familiar scent of clay and the quiet hum of creativity enveloped you. the light filtering through the tall windows cast an ethereal glow on your workspace, illuminating the clay sculpture taking shape beneath your deft fingers. you shuddered, recalling the tumultuous scene you had caused, the emotional outburst that had led you to destroy your previous work of art.

determined to push back any thoughts of jungkook, you focused entirely on the clay before you. each movement was elegant, deliberate, as your hands moved with a grace born from years of practice. your mind, however, raced with a whirlwind of emotions—freedom, butterflies, liberty, independence. the sculpture was coming to life beneath your touch: an extended hand, its fingers gently curved, and a string of butterflies, delicate and intricate, laid one on top of the other. they seemed to be chasing the freedom they so desperately desired. yet, as you worked, their wings began to wither, the fragile clay starting to crumble under your touch. they had flown for so long, yearning for independence, before finally finding solace in the palm of a hand. it was a poignant realization—that the only thing they needed more than freedom was the touch of love.

you were so absorbed in your work that you barely noticed when jackson entered the studio. he said nothing, simply standing and watching you. his presence was quiet, respectful, and he observed as you caressed the butterflies, shaping each one with meticulous care. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he finally said, his voice soft, breaking the silence.

startled, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. you hadn’t realized he was there, so engrossed in your work. “jackson,” you breathed, your hands stilling. “i didn’t see you come in.”

he offered a gentle smile, stepping closer to the sculpture. “i didn’t want to disturb you. you looked so focused.” you glanced back at the sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies. “they’re chasing freedom,” you explained, your voice thoughtful. “but their wings are falling apart. they’ve been flying for so long, seeking independence, but they realize that what they need more than freedom is love.”

jackson studied the piece for a moment, nodding slowly. “you have a way of seeing the world, of expressing it through your art. i was wrong. you know art better than anyone.” his words were sincere, and they touched you deeply. you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, a tender gesture, it struck you—you knew art, its nuances, its depth. nevertheless, you didn't know love. that was a realm you had yet to truly understand.

the studio felt different now, not just a place of creation, but a space where emotions, complex and raw, intertwined with every sculpted form. and in that moment, with jackson's reassuring presence and the delicate clay butterflies, you realized there was more to learn, more to feel, beyond the confines of your art.

his eyes, warm and curious, met yours. “what has you so fascinated with butterflies?” he asked, his voice soft yet probing. you paused, your mind inevitably drifting back to jungkook. the memory of the monarch tattoo on the back of his neck was vivid, a symbol of his own desperate need to chase freedom. the thought made your blood run cold, a shiver running down your spine. you forced a smile, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away. “i admire them,” you said, your voice steady but distant. “they chase their own freedom, rather than love.”

his gaze softened, understanding flickering in his eyes. “everyone deserves love more than anything,” he replied gently. you said nothing, the words lingering in the air between you. the silence was filled with unspoken emotions, a depth of feeling that you couldn’t quite articulate. “especially you,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

the moment felt fragile, delicate like the butterflies you sculpted. before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open, and jihyo walked in, her presence breaking the intimate silence.

“hey, you two,” she called out, her tone light and cheerful. “the group's going out for drinks. you’re both welcome to join.” you hesitated, the weight of the day’s emotions still heavy on your shoulders. the idea of socializing felt overwhelming, but before you could decline, jackson spoke up.

“you deserve a break,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be fun.” with a sigh, you nodded, feeling a mix of reluctance and gratitude. his encouragement gave you the push you needed. the prospect of stepping out of the studio, even for a short while, seemed like a small reprieve.

as you gathered your things, the studio’s comforting hum faded into the background. you cast one last look at your sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies, and felt a renewed sense of purpose. perhaps, amidst the chaos and the quest for freedom, there was room for love too. walking out with jackson and jihyo, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting, a subtle change in the air. the evening stretched ahead of you, filled with possibilities, and for the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

the walk to the bar was filled with a mixture of anticipation and unease. the streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced with each step you took. jihyo walked ahead, her laughter echoing down the empty street, while jackson stayed close by your side. as you approached the entrance of the bar, a sudden chill washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you couldn't quite place the feeling, but it was a foreboding sense that something was about to happen. the moment you walked in, the dim lighting and the low hum of chatter enveloped you. But it was the pair of dark eyes that you locked with immediately that sent a jolt through your entire being.

it was him, it always seemed to be him. he was sitting at a table with a few friends, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. your body tensed involuntarily, and jackson, ever perceptive, noticed immediately. he placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “ease up,” he whispered in your ear, his voice calm and reassuring. “i’ve got your back.”

you finally broke the gaze, nodding at jackson, and made your way to a table as far from jungkook as possible. jackson's arm remained draped around you, a steadying presence in the storm of emotions brewing inside you. the two of you indulged in drinks, jackson leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “just so you know,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m a lightweight.” you laughed, the tension easing slightly. “i know,” you whispered back, your smile widening.

despite your attempts to ignore him, you could feel jungkook’s eyes on you the entire time. he downed his drink, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he watched you with jackson. you could almost feel the intensity of his thoughts, wondering who jackson was and why you were with him. minho’s voice broke through the haze of tension. “how about a round of darts?” he suggested, his tone light and carefree.

your mind immediately flashed back to playing darts with jungkook, the way he had stood behind you, guiding your hand, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered instructions. the memory was sharp and painful, and you shook your head. “no, thank you,” you replied politely, trying to keep your voice steady. jackson noticed the flicker of emotion in your eyes. “i’ll play for you,” he offered, a confident smile on his lips.

you nodded, grateful for his support. jackson stood up, heading over to the dartboard, and jungkook’s eyes narrowed. his fuse had blown, the thin veneer of calm shattering. “i’ll play against you,” he announced, his voice low and challenging.

the room went quiet, the tension palpable. your face went pale, and you glanced at jackson, who scoffed, clearly unfazed by his challenge. “fine,” he said coolly. “let’s play.”

the game began, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. each throw of the dart was accompanied by backhanded remarks, the words sharp and biting. “nice throw,” jungkook commented, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “didn’t know you had it in you.” jackson smirked, his eyes never leaving the dartboard. “you’d be surprised what i can do,” he replied smoothly. “unlike some people, i don’t need to show off.”

jungkook’s eyes flashed with anger. “careful,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “you might bite off more than you can chew.” jackson shrugged, his expression unfazed. “i think i’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. the game continued, each round more intense than the last. finally, with a final, precise throw, jackson won. he turned to you, a triumphant smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but hug him congratulatory. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the cold glare jungkook sent your way.

his gaze never left the two of you, his eyes dark and stormy. the tension in the air was almost suffocating, but in jackson’s arms, you felt a sense of safety and support. the night was far from over, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, grateful for the small victories amidst the chaos.

the tension inside the bar had become suffocating, a palpable force that seemed to press down on you. excusing yourself, you made your way to the door, needing a moment of solitude to clear your mind. as you stood up, jackson placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and reassuring. “hurry back,” he said softly, his eyes full of warmth. but you didn’t miss the way jungkook’s gaze hardened, his jaw clenching as he watched the small exchange.

you stepped outside, the cool night air a welcome relief. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a cigarette, the flick of the lighter breaking the stillness. as you took the first drag, the smoke curled around you, its familiar scent grounding you in the moment. your peace was short-lived, however. a voice broke through the quiet, low and unmistakable.

“is that your boyfriend?” you didn’t turn around. instead, you scoffed, exhaling a plume of smoke. “he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s tone was unreadable as he remarked, “you two seem close.” you took another drag, the cigarette glowing softly in the darkness. “we have history,” you replied. “we might even make up at some point.”

he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “don’t even think about it,” he said, his voice hardening. finally, you turned to face him, anger flaring in your chest. “what does it have to do with you?”

he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “the sight of you with another man makes me unreasonably angry,” he confessed, his voice low and intense. you were silent, your heart pounding as he stepped even closer. his presence was overwhelming, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension. without breaking eye contact, he reached out, taking the cigarette from your hand. he brought it to his lips, taking a slow puff, a small smile playing on his lips.

“mind your own business,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “we’re nothing but friends, according to you.” he took another puff before leaning in, his gaze never wavering. in a swift motion, he pulled you in for a kiss. for a moment, you kissed him back, lost in the familiar warmth and intensity. but reality snapped back, and you pushed him away, anger and confusion swirling inside you.

“i have no interest in playing your games anymore,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. he was taken aback, his expression one of surprise and hurt, but he stayed silent. you stepped back, your eyes meeting his one last time. “stick to your usual players,” you told him, your voice laced with finality.

turning on your heel, you walked back into the bar, leaving jungkook standing alone in the night. the door closed behind you, the noise and warmth of the bar enveloping you once more. jackson looked up as you returned, concern flickering in his eyes, but you gave him a reassuring smile, trying to push the encounter from your mind. as you rejoined the group, the weight of the moment lingered, a heavy reminder of the complicated web of emotions you were entangled in. the night carried on, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

the night blurred as you indulged in the haze of alcohol, the edges of your reality softening with each drink. jungkook had returned to the bar, his presence a sharp contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. he made a deliberate effort to ignore you and jackson, his attention directed toward the girl beside him. she was a stranger to him, her name unimportant as she pressed kisses to his neck and traced her fingers along his collarbone.

you hadn't planned on drinking as much as you did. but when you caught a glimpse of the butterfly on the girl's wrist, the sight stung like a needle, memories of jungkook's monarch tattoo flooding back, memories of your own cherished drawing flooding back. you stared at the bottom of your glass, realizing you had lost count of how many times it had been filled and emptied.

jihyo noticed first, her eyes filled with sympathy as she took the glass from your hand, ignoring your feeble protests. jackson, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation, leaned in close. “you've had too much,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. you wanted to argue, to push away his words, but the truth of them settled heavily on your shoulders. you felt too relaxed, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddled. jackson announced to the group that he was taking you home, his tone leaving no room for debate.

that was when jungkook's attention was drawn back to you. he watched, his eyes darkening with an emotion he couldn't name, as jackson helped you to your feet. jungkook's heart twisted painfully as he saw the way you clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. he wanted to intervene, to take you in his arms and carry you home himself, but the weight of his own pride held him back. all he could do was watch as jackson guided you out of the bar, the girl's touch losing its allure entirely.

the walk home was a stumbling journey, your words slurring together in a drunken rant about what an asshole jungkook was. jackson did his best to console you, his voice soothing even as a pang of jealousy tightened in his chest. the sight of you in pain, tears glistening in your eyes, was almost more than he could bear.

when you finally reached your front door, he paused, his hands gentle as he steadied you. “seeing you cry was one of the worst experiences of my life,” he confessed, his voice low and earnest. “any man who makes you cry doesn't deserve you.” you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through the fog of alcohol. he leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, the touch tender and bittersweet. “take care of yourself,” he whispered before turning to leave, the weight of his unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

you watched him go, your heart heavy with the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. the night was quiet now, the world around you still as you stood on your doorstep, the echo of jackson's words ringing in your ears. inside, the emptiness of your home seemed to mirror the void in your heart. you stumbled to your room, collapsing onto your bed, your mind replaying the events of the night. the taste of jungkook's kiss still lingered on your lips, a reminder of the complicated web of feelings you couldn't untangle. as sleep finally claimed you, your dreams were a tangled mess of memories and emotions, a reflection of the chaos that had become your reality.

the next day dawned with a dreary sky, the clouds heavy and swollen with impending rain. the rhythmic patter of raindrops against your window was a somber lullaby, pulling you from the clutches of a restless sleep. you groaned, the pounding in your head a relentless reminder of the previous night's excesses. forcing yourself out of bed, you prepared for the day, each movement deliberate and slow, as if the weight of your thoughts had seeped into your very bones.

the campus was a blur of umbrellas and hurried footsteps, the rain a persistent curtain that blurred the edges of your vision. you pulled your jacket tighter, shivering as the cold droplets kissed your skin. as you made your way to your morning class, a voice called out, stopping you in your tracks. “wait! could you come with me to the office?”

you turned to see one of the teachers, her expression unreadable. nervousness clawed at your insides, but you nodded, falling into step beside her. the walk to the office felt interminable, the walls closing in as a sense of dread pooled in your stomach. once inside, she gestured for you to sit, her demeanor serious. you complied, the anxiety almost unbearable as you waited for her to speak.

“the school’s program sends ten students from different departments every year to japan,” she began, her voice measured. “they spend a year at our sister art academy to strengthen their future as artists.” you nodded, your heart pounding. “i’m aware.”

she leaned forward, her eyes intense. “your sculptures have caught the eyes of many. you’re the top candidate. would you be interested?” the words hung in the air, your mind reeling. excitement surged through you, momentarily banishing the remnants of your hangover. “yes, absolutely!”

a smile ghosted across her lips. “you’ll need to create one more simple piece, something that speaks to you. can you do that?” you nodded, your thoughts already racing. “yes, i’m on it.”

“good. finish and present it as soon as possible.” you left the office, the rain still falling in relentless sheets. the excitement that had bubbled within you was quickly overshadowed by a gnawing hesitation. the reality of what the opportunity meant settled in, heavy and unyielding. you would be leaving everything behind—your friends, your school, and jungkook.

the thought of leaving him sent a fresh wave of uncertainty crashing over you. despite everything, despite the confusion and the pain, he was a part of your world. the idea of being an ocean away from him was almost too much to bear. you found yourself wandering aimlessly, the rain soaking through your clothes, each step feeling heavier than the last. your mind was a tempest, torn between the excitement of a new adventure and the fear of the unknown. the prospect of creating another sculpture loomed before you, a task that now felt monumental under the weight of your emotions.

the memory of your last piece resurfaced, the butterflies chasing freedom only to realize they needed love. the irony wasn’t lost on you. as you trudged through the rain, you realized that this new piece had to encapsulate everything you felt—the excitement, the fear, the longing, and the love. you headed back to the studio, the familiar scent of clay and plaster a strange comfort. as you began to work, the world outside faded away. your hands moved almost of their own accord, shaping and molding, each touch a cathartic release of the turmoil within. the rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, a melancholic soundtrack to your efforts.

hours passed in a blur, your focus unbroken despite the emotional storm raging inside you. the sculpture began to take shape, a raw, unfiltered expression of your heart. it was a simple piece, yet it spoke volumes—a delicate balance of freedom and love, the very essence of your struggle. by the time you stepped back to admire your work, exhaustion had settled into your bones, but there was a sense of accomplishment too. the piece was a part of you, a fragment of your soul made tangible.

as you stepped into the bustling café where you had arranged to meet jihyo and jackson, the atmosphere was charged with the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups. the light rain that had persisted throughout the day drummed gently against the café’s windows, adding a soothing rhythm to the scene. you were greeted by their warm smiles as you took your seat, the weight of the day’s revelation still heavy on your shoulders.

jackson leaned forward, his eyes alight with genuine enthusiasm. “you know, this opportunity is amazing. your talent has always been evident, and this chance in japan is well-deserved. i’m so proud of you.” jihyo nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same pride and encouragement. “you’ve worked so hard. this is the kind of break you need to truly shine. i know you’re feeling hesitant, but remember how much you’ve accomplished. this is your chance to take it to the next level.”

you smiled weakly, your excitement mingling with apprehension. “i definitely plan to take it. it’s just, everything’s happening so fast, and i’m not sure how to let go of everything I’m leaving behind.”

jackson reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours. “your art is the best thing about you. it’s not just a part of you; it’s a reflection of who you are. anyone who gets to experience it, anyone who gets to know you through your art, is incredibly fortunate. you’re meant for great things.”

“thank you,” you said softly, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with unease. it was then that you noticed a familiar figure through the café’s window. your heart skipped a beat as you saw jungkook sitting outside, his presence an unexpected jolt to your already fraught emotions. your breath caught in your throat as you observed him with another girl, who sat comfortably in his lap. they were sharing an intimate kiss, the tenderness of the moment starkly contrasting with the chaos swirling inside you.

the sight was a knife to your heart, the image of their closeness slicing through your resolve. you felt the world around you narrow, the laughter and chatter of the café fading into a distant hum. every beat of your heart seemed to echo with the impact of what you were witnessing. the gentle curve of jungkook’s smile, the way he held her—it was a brutal reminder of what you were losing. struggling to maintain composure, you excused yourself with a shaky voice. “i think i need some air. i’ll walk home.”

without waiting for their response, you stood abruptly, the café’s warmth feeling stifling against the cold storm brewing inside you. you pushed through the door, the crisp rain and cool air a sharp contrast to the suffocating emotions that had taken hold. each step felt heavy, the rain drumming against your skin a harsh, unrelenting reminder of the turmoil within.

as you walked, the image of jungkook and the girl replayed in your mind, a relentless echo that seemed to drown out all other thoughts. your heart felt like it was being pulled in a hundred directions at once—toward the excitement of your new opportunity and the painful reality of what you might be leaving behind. the rain continued to fall, mingling with the tears that slipped down your cheeks, unnoticed. the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts a chaotic whirl of feelings and memories. the prospect of the future was overshadowed by the haunting present, and the weight of your choices seemed almost unbearable. you trudged along, the journey home a silent testament to the internal struggle you faced. the thought of him and his effortless connection with someone else was a harsh reminder of the emotional complexity you had to navigate, and the path ahead felt uncertain and fraught with both hope and heartache.

the rain fell in heavy, unrelenting sheets as you walked home, each step a painful reminder of the emotional weight you carried. the sky was a somber gray, the clouds a reflection of the storm raging inside you. your body felt frail, your legs weak, as if the very essence of your being was being drained away. the weight of what you had seen, the raw pain of feeling worthless, clung to you with an almost tangible heaviness. jungkook had meant the world to you, yet now it seemed that even that precious world was slipping through your fingers, leaving nothing but a hollow ache.

you trudged along the empty streets, the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the pavement blending with the chaotic rhythm of your thoughts. the cold rain soaked through your clothes, chilling you to the bone, but it barely registered against the emotional frost that had settled over your heart.

suddenly, you heard your name being called out. the voice was distant, but unmistakable. you recognized it instantly. it was him. you kept walking, trying to push the sound away, as if ignoring it could somehow make it disappear. but then, you heard it again, more urgent, cutting through the rain-soaked night. your steps faltered, and you turned around, your heart sinking as you saw him running towards you, his figure becoming clearer with each stride.

jungkook was drenched, the rain pouring down his face, mingling with the anguish that seemed to be etched into his features. his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. he reached you, breathless and soaked to the skin, but his presence was like a burning beacon in the storm.

“don’t go,” he said, his voice breaking through the relentless roar of the rain. you stared at him, confusion mingling with the pain in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

“i heard about japan,” he continued, his voice raw and pleading. “don’t go. please.”

the words struck you like a blow, but you fought to keep your composure. “i have no reason to stay,” you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain firm. to your surprise, jungkook took your hands into his, his grip warm and desperate. “i need you here,” he said, his eyes filled with a pleading intensity. “i need you to stay.”

the tears that you had been holding back began to well up, blurring your vision. you pulled your hands away from his grasp, your voice cracking as you spoke. “i need to be as far away from you as possible. i like you too much, jungkook. i care for you, but i can’t give you the freedom you want. i need to chase my own freedom.”

you turned away, but his grip was swift and unyielding. he grabbed your arm, pulling you back, his fingers digging in with a desperation that matched your own inner turmoil. you could hear the ragged breaths escaping from his lips as he clung to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “please, just stay. don’t go.” you tried to pull away, but he held on, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close until your back was pressed against his chest. his embrace was both comforting and agonizing, a paradox of warmth and sorrow. you could feel his heartbeat against your back, a rhythmic reminder of the pain that was being shared between you.

he whispered into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “i need you. please don’t leave me.”

the tears streamed down your face uncontrollably as you remained silent, the weight of the decision pressing heavily upon you. his pleas were a bittersweet melody that tore at your heart, the pain of leaving him and the freedom you sought intertwining into a tormenting dance. with a final, wrenching sob, you pulled your arm away, turning to face him one last time. his face was a picture of heartache, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you, his expression a mixture of longing and devastation. the sight of him, so vulnerable and broken, was almost too much to bear.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you turned away once more. the rain seemed to pour harder, as if the heavens were weeping for the love you were leaving behind. you walked away, each step feeling like an eternity, the pain of leaving jungkook and the promise of your future battling within your heart. the finality of your decision was a heavy burden, but you knew that you had to forge ahead, even as the sorrow of what you were leaving behind threatened to consume you.

the night had been a long, dark tunnel through which you stumbled, your steps muffled by the weight of your sorrow. the rain had pattered relentlessly against your window, a haunting lullaby that matched the rhythm of your tearful sobs. you had cried yourself to sleep, each tear a silent testament to the heartache that coursed through you, mingling with the cold emptiness of the night. the warmth of your bed was of little comfort, overshadowed by the turmoil that roiled within your chest.

as dawn broke, its pale light filtered through your curtains, casting a somber glow over the room. the sun’s early rays were a stark contrast to the storm inside you. you rose, your movements slow and weary, the exhaustion from the previous night clinging to you like a second skin. with a heavy heart and leaden steps, you prepared yourself for the day ahead—the day of your presentation.

the studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead. you walked to your piece, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. the sculpture you had created—a delicate representation of butterflies and an outstretched hand—stood in the center of the room, bathed in the cold light of morning. the clay had been shaped with painstaking care, each butterfly a testament to your emotions, each wing a silent echo of your heartache.

you gazed at the sculpture, your breath catching in your throat. the butterflies, which had once been a symbol of your freedom, now seemed to mock your sorrow. their fragile wings, once vibrant and hopeful, were now a muted reflection of your internal struggle. the hand beneath them was extended as if in an eternal gesture of solace, yet it seemed to grasp at something forever out of reach. the piece was a paradox—a representation of the freedom you yearned for, coupled with the love you were leaving behind.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your teacher’s voice, cutting through the silence like a lifeline. “everyone's waiting,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. the words jolted you into action, and with one final, reluctant glance at your sculpture, you lifted it with trembling hands. the weight of the piece felt like an anchor, dragging you toward the theatre room where your presentation awaited.

as you entered the room, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. the space was filled with an array of faces—jihyo and jackson, their supportive expressions a stark contrast to the tension that gripped you; the professors from japan, their keen eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and evaluation; and jungkook, who sat among them, his presence a palpable ache in your chest. he looked worn, his face haggard as if the night had been a battleground of its own. when the room fell silent, you began your presentation, your voice wavering as you started to speak. your gaze frequently flickered to your piece, but it was jungkook’s eyes that held you captive. the connection between you was electric, a silent conversation that spoke louder than words.

you began to explain your sculpture in intricate detail, your words a poignant reflection of the emotions you had poured into it. “the butterflies,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, “represent the pursuit of freedom. they chase after an elusive goal, their wings a delicate dance of hope and struggle. eventually, after chasing freedom for so long, their wings began to wither. fall apart. they become weak, as they search for solace from the hand that awaits them,” each phrase you uttered felt like a resonating dagger piercing through jungkook’s heart, each description a painful reminder of what you were leaving behind.

the room’s ambient noise faded into a background hum as your focus remained solely on jungkook. the intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe, and despite the precision of your words, you could not hide the tears that brimmed in your eyes. the sculpture, which you had hoped would be a beacon of your artistic achievement, was overshadowed by the rawness of your feelings. as you concluded, your voice cracked with emotion. “all they’ve ever known was freedom,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper, “nevertheless, all they ever needed was love.”

the professors responded with polite applause, their approval a distant echo to the tumultuous storm of your emotions. Your heart was focused solely on the sight of jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on the sculpture with an expression of profound sadness. a single tear slid down his cheek, tracing a path that seemed to embody all the words left unsaid between you.

he turned abruptly, his face a canvas of heartbreak, and you watched as he walked away, your eyes following the path of his butterfly tattoo. the symbol, so intricately tied to your shared history, seemed to pulse with a haunting resonance. it was as if the butterfly was an echo of the love and freedom you both had chased, now left fluttering in the storm of your separation. the finality of his departure was a bitter pill, and as you stood there, the weight of the moment pressed heavily upon you. the sculpture, the presentation, and the love you were leaving behind melded into a poignant tableau of loss and longing.

the presentation room, once filled with the fervor of evaluation, gradually settled into a subdued murmur as the professors gathered their thoughts. their voices, though hushed, carried an air of reverence. one of them, an elderly man with a sharp gaze softened by years of experience, approached you with a warm smile. “your work is extraordinary,” he said, his voice rich with genuine admiration. “the way you’ve captured the essence of freedom and love through your sculpture is nothing short of brilliant.”

another professor, a woman with a commanding presence and a graceful poise, nodded in agreement. “indeed,” she added, her eyes sparkling with approval. “your piece speaks volumes. the subtlety and depth of emotion conveyed through your butterflies and the extended hand reflect an understanding of art that goes beyond technique. it’s a rare gift.”

you stood there, feeling their praise wash over you like a gentle tide. despite their words, a hollow emptiness lingered within you, a void that seemed impervious to their accolades. they continued, “we are pleased to inform you that the academy in japan has reviewed your work and welcomes your arrival as soon as tonight.”

the words were a formal acknowledgment of what you had anticipated, but they did little to stir excitement within you. you simply nodded, your face an impassive mask that concealed the whirlwind of emotions brewing beneath. your teacher, who had been a silent witness to the exchange, gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and empathy.

as you prepared to leave, jihyo and jackson were by your side, enveloping you in heartfelt congratulations. “you did it!” jihyo exclaimed, her voice a mixture of joy and sadness. “this is such a great opportunity for you.” jackson joined in, his embrace firm and reassuring. “we’re so proud of you,” he said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “this is your chance to shine, to make your mark on the world.” yet, amidst their praises and supportive words, you felt a profound emptiness. the accolades, the approval, even the opportunity felt distant, overshadowed by the weight of your own emotional turmoil.

just as you were about to leave to pack, jackson’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “wait,” he called softly. you turned to face him, curiosity mingled with trepidation in your eyes.

he took a deep breath, his expression a blend of melancholy and resolve. “i knew it would never be me,” he began, his voice steady yet laden with unspoken emotion. “when i saw your work, and when i saw jungkook’s tattoo, i understood that this was something i could never be a part of.” his words were an acknowledgment of the deep-seated truths that had been woven into the fabric of your shared experiences.

his gaze softened as he pulled a sleek black box from his pocket. “i have something for you,” he said, holding it out with a tender gesture. “jungkook asked me to give this to you.” with a final, gentle kiss to your forehead, he wished you a safe journey, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and resignation. “i’ll always be waiting for you,” he said softly.

you accepted the box, feeling the weight of it in your hand. as you turned to leave, the heaviness of your heart seemed to magnify with every step. the box felt like a tangible piece of the emotions you were grappling with, a silent witness to the complexity of your feelings. once you were home, the task of packing your bags seemed almost secondary to the allure of the box. you set your belongings aside, your gaze fixed on the small, unassuming container. the anticipation was almost unbearable as you slowly opened it.

inside, nestled in a bed of soft black velvet, lay a silver necklace. the pendant was an exquisite butterfly, its delicate wings capturing the light with a subtle sheen. the craftsmanship was impeccable, every detail of the butterfly’s form rendered with a delicate precision that took your breath away. your hands trembled as you lifted the necklace, the weight of it feeling like a physical manifestation of the emotions you had been suppressing. with a mixture of reverence and sorrow, you clasped the necklace around your neck. the cold metal brushed against your skin, and you could feel the butterfly resting over your heart.

as you fastened the clasp, the floodgates opened, and the sobs that had been building up erupted uncontrollably. the tears streamed down your face, each one a reflection of the anguish and longing that had been bottled up inside. the necklace, a symbol of love and departure, seemed to echo the pain of leaving behind the things and people you cherished.

you sank onto your bed, the weight of the necklace a bittersweet reminder of jungkook's affection and the heartbreak that had marked your journey. the room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a space where your emotions were laid bare, each tear a testament to the complexity of your farewell. the necklace glistened softly in the dim light, a silent witness to your sorrow and the new chapter that awaited you. as you lay there, the tears slowly subsiding, the butterfly pendant against your skin felt like a fragile promise—a delicate symbol of the freedom you sought and the love you had to leave behind.

the airport buzzed with the ceaseless motion of travelers, each with their own stories of departure and arrival, but for you, it felt like the world had stopped. every step toward the gate was weighted with the gravity of what you were leaving behind. the butterfly pendant lay cold against your chest, a stark reminder of the connection you still felt to jungkook, its delicate form pressed close to your heart.

the evening was draped in a shroud of melancholy, the terminal lights casting a pale glow over the bustling scene. you walked through the throngs of people, each stride a battle against the urge to turn back, to run away from the decision that tore at your soul. the departure board loomed ahead, and you searched for your gate, the numbers and letters blurring together through the haze of your emotions.

when you finally reached your gate, your heart sank. the moment had come, and the reality of your departure hit you with a force that nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. the weight of your chest was unbearable, the ache of leaving everything behind more than you had anticipated. your mind swirled with thoughts of jungkook, the memories of your time together interwoven with the pain of parting. just as you were about to resign yourself to the inevitable, you heard your name being called. it was a voice you would recognize anywhere, even amidst the cacophony of the airport. you turned slowly, your breath catching in your throat. there he was, running toward you with an urgency that mirrored the turmoil in your heart.

you stood frozen, unable to move as jungkook reached you, his breath ragged from the sprint. his eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and love, locked onto yours. “don’t leave,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions. the tears were quick to follow, faster than your words could form, streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of unspoken pain. he continued, his voice trembling. “i don’t just need you,” he said, his hands trembling as he reached out to cup your face with a gentleness that broke your heart. “i love you. i can’t bear the thought of you being so far from me.”

the background noise of the airport faded into nothingness as you sobbed, your vision blurred by the flood of tears. his touch was a balm to your aching heart, his words a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. he repeated himself, his voice steadying with conviction. “i love you.” in that moment, the world around you ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, standing at the precipice of a decision that would alter the course of your lives. you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold metal of the necklace against your skin.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the sobs that wracked your body. the admission was a release, a catharsis of the emotions you had held back for so long. you clung to him, feeling the strength of his love envelop you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in ages. but even as you surrendered to the moment, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered the harsh truth. you knew it wasn’t love, not in the way that was meant to last. it was a tempest of passion and pain, a connection born from the shared scars of your pasts and the unspoken longing that had drawn you together.

as you stood there, entwined in each other’s arms, you knew that this love, however flawed and fleeting, was all you had ever wanted. it was the reason your heart ached, the reason your soul soared, and as you buried your face in his shoulder, you made a silent promise to cherish this love for as long as it lasted, no matter how brief or bittersweet. no, it wasn't love. nevertheless, you were in love with him.

✧.*

a/n: if there's one thing i'm gonna do it's add jackson wang as a random side character...this was inspired by my favorite horror kdrama aka nevertheless