http-drabbles

[http-drabbles]

soulmate, soulmate where are you? 3

1k return and there's no tws just food reviews and jungkook offering pizza in search of answers. i actually have a plot laid out for this, everyone chéer it's leaving being drabble.

jungkook can't stop looking at me. his eyes study my hairline, sweep down my forehead to the slope of my nose, slide across my lips to round over my cheeks and then drill into my eyes. every time he tries to make eye contact i look away, i am desperate to maintain distance from him.

when i walked away or tried to flee, i was immediately chased down and ushered into a nearby room by staff. they're a little too good at crowding around me and practically shoving me into a chair. politely, i may add. she was careful not to chip a nail on my squirming shoulder.

jungkook comes in ten minutes after, he looks upset- no more like physically wounded as he sits across from me and the translator begins to speak. she has my consent forms in front of her, i try to calculate if i could reach across and shred them with my bare hands.

"i understand that this might be a little..." she takes a pause like she's trying to be considerate but the pause is too long and followed by a sigh. "too much, given jungkook's popularity but we at hybe can assure you of privacy and safety." she smooths the forms and i notice her finger circles around my signature. fuck.

jungkook is staring at me for an answer, his fingers are drumming unsteadily on the table- it makes me flinch.

"it's not about him," i can't say his name. "in england i have... responsibilities." vague, serious sounding and the translator by jungkook's ear is speaking faster.

he snaps something, another unsteady round of finger tapping.

"he's willing to aid you, financially." isn't the saying throw money at the problem to make it go away? here i am trying to be ensnared.

"it's not a matter of money, it's just a lot." my eyes drift from the consent forms to his fingers, "you're just too much."

-

starting a food diary helps because when hybe isn't pestering me with visits, emails, phone calls and more forms i am enamoured with hotel room service. i was upgraded to a nicer place, overlooking the han river with a memory foam mattress. bibimbap gets a seven out of ten, korean fried chicken a nine and when jungkook surprise visits me with pizza that gets a one out of ten.

there's no gaggle of helpful-unhelpful people, no manager or bodyguard, not even a translator.

"hello..." the drumming begins, the pizza box isn't as percussive as hybe's tables. "i bought pizza, but... korean style."

"oh."

"y-yeah. um.." the lid is flipped, a simple pepperoni pizza. "i like it, do you know mr paik?"

"no."

"he owns this pizza company, it's good."

a beat of silence. there isn't the usual claw of anxiety surrounded by jungkook anymore, more like i have submitted to a life with him somewhere in the picture. he's not just on my ipad anymore, he's presenting me with pizza and fiddling with his lip ring.

"i like pizza." a final conclusion, standing i take a slice and a small bite. okay. the one-star rating reaches a tentative six, pending to see how this visit goes.

"thank you." given i rejected him, us, me accepting this pizza seemed to make jungkook's hunched shoulders sag just the smallest bit.

we eat in silence, i sit on the chair by the window and jungkook perched on the edge of my bed. there's no questions that float in my head, i'm not curious about him. most soulmates are all over each other, in my head, i try to picture kissing him. he would taste like pizza.

"i studied english a little bit.." he sets his half-eaten slice down, wiping away crumbs with a tissue. "but... i'm still not good. the... my phone can help." he sets his phone on the bed and mumbles something in korean.

"i'm sorry i am a lot, and that on the day we met, i made you unhappy, i was just so excited to meet you." the voice is chirpy.

"you didn't make me unhappy, i just... i didn't know what i wanted when i went in, but the last thing i wanted was to be with you. that was unfair to you, i'm sorry." the phone repeats my message and his brows crease together.

"we don't have to get together immediately, or even at all. i'm just happy to know what you look like." his eyes meet mine.

"okay."

-

taking the back entrance to the airport made me weirdly giddy, this is a spy movie but the backup agents are hybe staff and my partner in crime is a pop star. i decided to return home, jungkook visited every day after schedules with food and i listened to every story he told me attentively. most of the stories were about the other members, a food-related fiasco with jimin or early days with jin preparing his lunch for school.

he's filling in gaps to questions i don't ask, tidbits of information i don't want to know.

"i have a dog, he's big but he's friendly. his name is bam."

"i have a motorcycle, a harley davidson."

"i know some magic tricks, card tricks mainly."

my passport and boarding pass are finally in my hand, jungkook gave me his phone number in three different mediums. inputted into my phone, written down on a note tucked into my passport and emailed to me. i wouldn't not text him, i even downloaded kakaotalk to make it easier.

"goodbye, have a safe flight." his fans were right about one thing, his eyes are sparkly and he's taking every inch of my appearance in. a swoop, a dive, rounding across corners and drilling into me.

i nod. "thank you." i bow, which he returns and with a weird little stumble i walk to the gate and disappear from view.

jungkook follows his manager out and back towards the car, eyes drifting to the tiger lily. the petals are beginning to wrinkle and the stem looks limp. he forces his sleeve back down, for right now he doesn't care. he's already tracking my flight and triple-checking that he has my number saved, he's just happy to know what my face looks like and he likes how his mouth stretches and moves when he mouths my name over and over. even the tongue flick across teeth and arch to the roof of his mouth, each sensation is enjoyable.

[http-drabbles]

soulmate, soulmate where are you? 2

1.3k words of absolute crushing angst, it's 7am and i woke up to write. shall i be evil and let this be the final part? mayhaps.

warnings: s/h and making jungkook sad (:W)

fuck fuck fuck.

skimming every question and typing out my answer feels a lot like betrayal. name, age, country of residence, when my soulmate mark appeared, contact details, translator needed, agreeing to a declaration that if my soulmate mark was found to be fraudulent i could face a fine or jail time. i tick the box by his name, attach a photo of my mark and send the form off. the confirmation email is too cheery it makes my jaw ache at how i grind my teeth.

i don't want to talk about the circumstances that lead me to fill out that form, to apply for a loan that covers travel cost and a hotel for this. the woman who helped me fill out the form was again all too cheery, wishing me a good luck and all i could do was smile so fucking limply back at her while noticing lipstick smudged against her teeth.

a month passes and i'm gleeful, maybe it's a network error and my form never submitted. i'm free and can tell the loan company to cancel my plan, i don't go on social media to see what jungkook is up to and in those weeks the nightmare is over and i embrace my loneliness.

the email arrives at 16:21. heathrow to seoul, a contact at hybe will meet me at the airport. id needed. date of when i'm expected to actually meet jungkook, with a disclaimer that it may change due to fluctuating schedule. the tiger lily tingles, and i almost see the petals opening ready to accept him.

"don't get your hopes up, i can always email them back to get out of this."

i don't. of course i don't because i'm standing in a Costa in London Fucking Heathrow next to the hybe contact who is analysing their croissants like it's the key to end all misery. i wished i could look at croissants with that much intensity.

she asked once to see my soulmate mark, gave it a one second glance over and then typed something down in her phone, i wondered how many people she's flown with to Korea. more than ten i would bet. i don't ask, i'm not conversational but when we're waiting in the queue holding out boarding passes i blurt to her.

"i haven't flown before. i've got a fear of it i think."

she passes me a sleeping tablet and i bump her number from ten to a solid fifteen.

korea is pretty, face practically smushed against the taxi window i take in every single detail i can. there's an over-abundance of signs, low hanging wires and roads so tiny it's a miracle a car can pass through them. i don't take photos, i rely on my brain to remember and then forget.

hybe is anything but pretty, more like a grey lump of concrete and glass. i sign two more documents and the translator informs me that in two days time i will be meeting jungkook, but not officially meeting. more like my arm will be stuck through a gap and our soulmate marks will touch, i will have to wear a mitt because some people had become a little too excited and scratchy. my mark is thoroughly inspected this time, deemed official and not a tattoo i'm driven over to my hotel.

i don't unpack, staring at the forms in my hand which are a mix of korean and english i almost laugh. traitor. stupid traitor.

over the next two days i come to two big conclusions, one kimchi is too sour but the rice cakes should be considered a universal delicacy and two, is it too late to back out?

is it too late to back out? i'm in the taxi, i consider clawing the windows for escape but i decide that digging my fingers into my belly helps ease my nerves. can i back out? hybe is cold, the ac is too strong and there's other girls in the room i'm lead into. shy smiles as i plop myself in the back. we are called alphabetically. is it possible to back out? there's four of us left now, i didn't bother counting us as a whole. i can't stop digging my nails into my stomach.

i can't back out. my name is called and somehow my body removes the hand from my belly and i walk myself over to the room. there's a row of grey screen partitions that divide the room, a small slither in the middle presumably where my arm will go. it hits me jungkook is on the other side and i bite my bottom lip hard to avoid laughing. tugging my sleeve up a staff member puts the mitt on securely, another verbal warning to not do anything harmful to the artist.

artist and not his name.

i sit down on the chair, staring into that small space to catch a sight of him but there's nothing. i don't mind a fine, or jail time. i hope it's not real. deliberately slowly i raise my arm, putting it through the gap with my tiger lily facing upwards. the air shifts around my arm and i feel him. warm as his tiger lily presses against mine.

at first nothing, and i almost let out the loudest sigh of relief and then it is everything. in the mitt my fingers jerk, i pull away like i've been electrocuted clutching my arm but it's energy, pure energy. thrum. drum. drum.

he's tearing the partitions apart and i stagger back, nearly falling over the chair to get away from him. frantic korean, something more reassuring from a staff member and then he pokes his head through. beaming smile, he's so happy to see me and i guess i'm somewhere between absolutely mortified and in complete shock. his sleeve is rolled up and i notice his tiger lily has fully blossomed, a quick glance down at mine and i realise mine is the same.

he speaks again, approaching me like he wants to hug me but seeing that i'm backing away like a rabid animal he slows, contains himself and glances at the translator and back at me.

"hello. i'm jungkook. it's nice to meet you finally." oh god. too much. he's too kind and his cologne has infiltrated my nostrils and i'm so glad the mitt is still on because i'd be clawing at my nose to stop smelling it.

"s-sorry.. can't." i give the staff member who brought me in here the universal look of, 'get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here-now.' i am ignored.

"sorry?" he tilts his head in pure confusion, he looks worried. i hate him for it. "don't be sorry. it's okay. i'm happy."

i glance around the room and notice i'm being recorded, i don't know what sets me off more. he's too close, the camera, him, why is he so close? he touches my shoulder to comfort me and i jerk away, i can't stop looking at the camera and the other staff members who are beaming at us.

"i'm sorry," my eyes lock with his, "i don't want you." he doesn't understand and i glance at the translator.

she looks sad and very softly tells him what i've said, he doesn't seem to believe her because he presses his fingers against the tiger lily and shakes his head.

"us. this is us." he's struggling to speak himself and i can see him remembering. he's really looking at my arm now, clearer. the burns, the cuts. all the times i've tried to prune that cancerous flower from my arm. almost physically wounded he takes a step back.

"i'm sorry, i don't want this." the translator repeats my words and all he does is nod.

he nods and i leave.

[http-drabbles]

soulmate, soulmate where are you?

400(?) word drabble about rejection, soulmate!au kinda? jungkook x reader

warnings: s/h and that's it

🪱 first ever post on here, sorry in advance if it sucks major ass and please let me know if i should continue this :3

౨ৎ

jungkook is live, glass of whiskey in front of him as he rocks along to whatever music is playing. weverse live? vlive? i don't think the information is important but my brain seems to search for it, anything to distract myself from that traitorous prickle that comes with looking at jungkook- or anything related to him. i should've been happy, i should be ecstatic even now when i was searching high and low for someone with my matching soulmate mark- realising it was some korean celebrity. not just any korean celebrity, one from the biggest boy band.

he's speaking. he's smiling, eyes crinkled, nose wrinkled talking about something, i don't speak korean but whatever it is has a flood of purple hearts to the chat. i could confess now, he would never see and i'm sure someone would call me a parasocial weirdo if i did.

hi jungkook, i'm not a fan but your soulmate and i'm from england. i don't want to be your soulmate, you seem nice but i'm pretty sure it wouldn't end well.

a message i don't send, instead i turn my ipad off and roll out of bed. it's 4pm, he always seems to go live during the night there, my afternoons are when his sun sets. distract. don't think of his voice, don't think about how i could give in, don't think of his money, don't think of running away. circles. always in circles it's driving me mad.

tiger lily on my arm, and i've tried to cut and burn it off. stubborn cancerous thing, so determined to stay on a body that's rejected the person it's meant to be attached to. pinching it hard i walk downstairs, i hope the force of my pinch is something jungkook feels too, i hoped he felt every time i tried to get rid of it.

five thousand miles away, talking about a recent performance jungkook pauses just a little. his tiger lily hurts, a pinch- but what is a pinch when he's felt it burn before? what is a burn when he's felt it tried to be peeled away? what is a cut when it's the act of rejection behind it? jungkook is a good performer, he's smiling still but his eyes have lost all their happy crinkle.