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jysmloves · 3 years ago

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even winter ends | jjk

↳ synopsis: jeon jungkook is winter, but like all seasons, winter eventually comes to an end.

↳ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

↳ word count: 3k

↳ genre: angst, tiniest hint of fluff if you squint?

↳ warnings: none

↳ a/n: i actually originally wrote this fic way back in june of last year because i suddenly got inspired even though christmas was literally six months away. i planned to post it during the holidays, but i was busy visiting my family, and i am not waiting another year to release this around wintertime! i hope you guys enjoy my first ever tumblr fic, and happy (not really) reading!

Jeon Jungkook is the personification of winter.

He is your favorite Christmas song, distinct and melodious, blasted on repeat as you dance around your apartment in your favorite red and black plaid pajama pants and black oversized tee shirt at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning.

He is the string of rainbow holiday lights adorning each and every one of the houses in your neighborhood, bright and captivating and inconceivably beautiful.

He is your favorite holiday movie, cheesy, flawed, and downright ridiculous at some points, but still managing to make a smile stretch across your face every time you watch it.

He is your favorite pair of thick, woolly socks, having come across them by chance and not particularly caring about them before eventually growing to realize how much you need them, especially during frigid and difficult times.

He is your favorite chipped mug, the one you fill to the brim with hot chocolate to sit with in front of the roaring fireplace as snow gently blankets the ground outside, the mere taste of the beverage warming you inside and giving you ecstasy.

He is the present that you’re most excited to open underneath the Christmas tree, because you can plainly see that it is wrapped delicately and with care. It’s certainly not the largest or the prettiest one, but it’s the most appealing to you.

And when you’re finally able to open that present, what’s inside is even better than its wrapping paper. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, and he is all you ever wanted, all you ever needed. He is kind and generous and funny, loyal and trusting and sweet. He is good, and oftentimes it makes you wonder if he is just a dream, if his existence is a mere figment of your imagination.

But those thoughts are always dispelled when you’re in his embrace, his arms warm and strong and steady. He’s your refuge from the horrors of the world, from the stress placed upon your shoulders due to school and work, and from the weight of the future that lies ahead.

When you’re in his embrace, the two of you are the only ones in the galaxy, in the universe. It is the two of you alone, without the presence of lingering worries or intrusive thoughts. You are frozen in time, eyes closed, bodies still, hearts beating in the same musical rhythm.

Unfortunately, as much as you wish you could, it is impossible to stay in Jungkook’s embrace forever, just like how it is impossible for the winter season to last year round. It is just that: a season.

Jeon Jungkook is your favorite Christmas song, now attached with an entire film reel of painful memories, eventually removed from all of your playlists once you discovered that you couldn’t listen to it without crying, despite its joyful tune.

He is the string of rainbow holiday lights adorning each and every one of the houses in your neighborhood, including your own, which you couldn’t have managed to put up in the first place without his assistance.

He is your favorite holiday movie, cheesy, flawed, and downright ridiculous at some points, now permanently stashed away in the very back of your large pile of DVDs, out of sight and out of mind.

He is your favorite pair of thick, woolly socks, now two sizes too small and much too itchy and inconvenient to wear, stuffed in the back of your socks drawer and forgotten amongst all of the other pairs.

He is your favorite chipped mug, the one that is no longer chipped but shattered to pieces, no longer in your possession but in a landfill somewhere far away where you’ll never be able to get it back. He is your favorite chipped mug, the one you accidentally dropped onto the floor in shock after hearing the following six words leave his mouth: “I think we should break up.”

He is your favorite shattered mug, the one he immediately rushed to clean up by your feet and make sure that you weren’t harmed, all while you stood there like an imbecile trying to process his words. He is your favorite shattered mug, the one thrown carelessly into the trash can after being with you for two years, impossible to be repaired.

He is the present you are still most excited to open underneath the Christmas tree, because you can obviously tell that it is wrapped delicately and with care. In comparison to the others, it still isn’t the largest or the prettiest, but it remains the most appealing to you.

When you’re finally able to open that present, what’s inside is even better than its wrapping paper, because it’s none other than Jeon Jungkook. He is all you ever wanted, all you ever needed. And you love him. You love him more than he will ever be able to fathom, and that is a fact.

It is also a fact he doesn’t love you back. At least, not anymore.

Jeon Jungkook breaks up with you exactly a week before Christmas. He shoots you a text at ten o’clock on the dot when you are already in the middle of your weekly Saturday dance session, so you don’t see it until a few minutes afterward.

The text message has no underlying tones, just a simple “hey, can i come over?” It isn’t out of the ordinary since the two of you are typically always at each other’s places; Jungkook’s apartment is your second home, just how yours is his. However, it’s been a while since either of you have gone over to each other’s residences, too caught up in the hustle and bustle of life. You swiftly reply with a “you already know the answer” before heading into the kitchen to prepare a mug of hot chocolate for when he arrives, your own mug already in hand.

Three distinct knocking sounds against wood approximately fifteen minutes later prompt you to make your way over to the front door, and without even having to look through the peephole, you already know that it’s Jungkook outside. (He’s the only one who chooses to knock rather than ring the doorbell.) When you open the door, he’s standing before you wearing a plain black short sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants, which his hands are stuffed in the pockets of.

You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips to his cheek like you always do when you see him, greeting him with a “good morning” before leading the way back into the kitchen. Jungkook crosses the threshold of your apartment silently, shutting the door behind him before murmuring a barely audible “good morning” in return and following after you.

Instantly, your gut tells you that something is up with Jungkook. His demeanor is off and his attitude is noticeably much less enthusiastic than the several other times he’d visited your apartment before. However, you try to ignore the nagging feeling, shoving it away to the best of your abilities as you hand Jungkook his hot chocolate, supplied in the mug he always uses when he comes over. You chalk it up to the fact that Jungkook is just not a morning person. He never has been and never will be, and you don’t blame him because you aren’t either. Having Jungkook there with you admittedly makes mornings a lot better, though.

He takes his hot chocolate from you without a word, bringing it up to his lips for a fraction of a second before setting it down on the kitchen island. You aren’t sure who he thinks he’s fooling, because anyone can tell that he didn’t take a sip of the drink.

Rather than push him to speak his mind, you lift your own mug up to your lips, finishing the last of the hot chocolate you’d made for yourself earlier. Jungkook calls your name quietly once you’re done drinking and you turn to look at him, patiently waiting to hear whatever it is that’s been plaguing his thoughts since before he arrived.

“I think we should break up.”

The hand that’s wrapped around your mug involuntarily loosens out of shock and your mug slips from it and falls to the floor, meeting it with a raucous crash that shatters the mug into several small pieces, scattering all around your feet and miraculously none piercing your skin. You don’t comprehend what’s just happened even as Jungkook rushes to the supply closet in the hallway to grab the broom and dustpan and returns to the kitchen in the blink of an eye. He hurriedly sweeps a safe path to you and kneels down, checking to make sure that none of the shards injured you. After a thorough examination, he begins silently sweeping the pieces of the mug around you into a neat pile, and does so without meeting your eyes.

Throughout all of this, you remain silent, though finally having come to your senses and stepping out of the way as he works to clean up the mess you made.

You can’t help but wonder if perhaps that’s why he’s breaking up with you. Is it because you always make messes that he has to deal with the aftermath of? Are you too high-maintenance for him to handle?

Once he finishes sweeping all of the broken pieces into a pile and then moving them into the dustpan, he opens up the trash can and pours everything in, every last piece of your favorite mug. You can't help but feel a tad bit resentful about the action. Obviously, the mug is shattered beyond repair, but he still chooses to throw it away without hesitation, without a second thought, just like that.

Perhaps that’s why he’s breaking up with you. Not necessarily because of your attachment to inanimate objects, but because of the sentimental value you hold to things, the powerful emotions you feel. Although he feels things just as deeply as you do, Jungkook has always had difficulty expressing his emotions. It was one of the obstacles you had to overcome in the early stages of your relationship, and nowadays, he showers you with love and affection.

At least, he used to. Somewhere along the line, apparently something went wrong.

Jungkook leaves to return the broom and dustpan to their places in the supply closet before entering the kitchen again, eyes on you with the intention of providing an explanation. He yearns to clarify what he means, and you can tell he does. Words tumble out of his mouth at the speed of light, stringing together sentences revolving around the typical “It’s not you, it’s me” blather, which really means “It is you, but I still care for you and I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” You can’t help but notice that the pet name “baby” falls from his lips exactly twice, most likely out of habit.

Everything he says goes in one ear and out the other as you selfishly try to memorize the way he says that one word, how melodious it is to your ears and the shape his mouth makes when he does so. Instead of focusing on whatever it is that he’s telling you, you try to memorize those things, and you hope with all of your heart that you’ll be able to recall it for a long time, because you know you’ll never hear him call you that again in this lifetime.

Jungkook seems to have finally ended his nonsensical and unnecessary speech slash apology, but you don’t dare meet his eyes, unsure of how you’d emotionally and verbally react. This will probably be your last time seeing him, won’t it? Do exes typically keep up with each other’s social media? Aren’t they supposed to cut off all contact with each other, never to cross paths again? That seems to be a common occurrence with all of your friends and their past lovers.

“Please say something,” Jungkook begs quietly, the silence from you eating away at him. “At least look at me.”

Your body reacts before your brain can, and you’re doing as he requested, elevating your gaze from the floor in order to meet his eyes. Looking at him, you don’t feel anger. You’re not sure if you can ever feel that emotion toward him. You don’t feel hurt either, you realize surprisingly. You just feel… sentimental, in a way. You trace the shape of his nose with your eyes, follow the line of his jaw, outline the curve of his lips, count the beauty marks on his face. This is the face of the man you’ve grown to love. This is the face of the man who no longer loves you back.

Perhaps another person standing in your shoes would fight for your relationship and dig those broken mug pieces out of the trash can to glue together in a desperate attempt to fix it. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see this coming. It’s the reason why you were so afraid of getting attached to Jungkook in the first place. The process of him falling out of love with you was just as effortless and smooth and accidental as the process of him falling in love with you was.

Finally, you open your mouth to speak. “I don’t really know what you want me to say, Jungkook.”

“I don’t want you to say anything specific, I just…” He sighs and his hand stretches out toward you, as if he wants to hold your hand in his and rub his thumb over the back of it soothingly like he’s done so many times before, but he stops himself and shoves his hand back into his pocket. “I just don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” you reply, because it’s true. You could never hate a single bone in his body, could never wish to harm a single hair on his head. You could never, and it all comes down to the fact that you love him. So you decide to tell him that, because you know that you’ll never get the chance to do it again. “I love you too much.”

“I love you too,” he says, but you can tell he only says it out of habit. It is so blatant that the intimate phrase is meaningless to him, and that there are no true feelings behind those words. You can’t help but wonder if it’s been like that throughout the entirety of your relationship, and if you were just too blindsided by your own love to notice.

“Is that, uh, all you came over for?” you ask, unsure if you can handle being in his presence any longer now that the two of you were officially broken up and your now ex-boyfriend is just standing there in your kitchen like it’s nothing.

“Um… yeah,” he says awkwardly. “I didn’t want to do… you know, it, over text or call. I feel like that would’ve been insensitive.”

“Yeah. Thank you for that,” you reply genuinely and he nods. You’re glad he cares enough not to break your heart in one of the aforementioned ways. You don’t know what you would’ve done if he did, but it probably would’ve been something much worse than accidentally dropping your favorite mug.

You keep sending casual glances over in the direction of the front door, hoping for Jungkook to get the hint instead of you having to verbalize your request for him to leave, and thankfully, he does.

“I think I’ll get going now,” he says quietly, and he begins walking over, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he moves past you to get to the exit. You ignore the spark you receive from the split second of physical contact. He stops in front of the door, one hand on the knob, and turns back to where you’re standing.

“Baby,” Jungkook breathes, and suddenly your heart rate is speeding up twice its normal rate. You were wrong earlier. That is the last time you’ll ever hear him call you by that name. “Can I please…”

“Can you please what, Jungkook?” you ask, and you can tell by the way his breath hitches that he, too, is memorizing every last bit of you, from the way you part your hair to the way you say his name.

“Can I please hold you?” he asks, his grip on the doorknob already loosening. “One last time?”

If you thought your heart rate was erratic before, it’s even worse now. You could hardly hear his words over the rapid thumping of your heart against your ribcage. What was he trying to do, playing with your heart by asking to hold you one last time when he was the one who made the decision to give up on you? You don’t know if this is some sick tactic to get you to miss him more when he ultimately leaves, but you do know that you aren’t going to decline his request.

Not for his sake, but for your own. You deserve to be selfish just this once.

You exit the kitchen and run over to Jungkook, throwing your arms around his neck. You take him by surprise and knock him backward a couple of steps, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your smaller figure with the same degree of tightness that you’re holding him. He buries his face in your neck and you feel him inhale deeply against your skin, taking in your aroma. It’s taking everything in you not to burst into tears in his embrace, the last one he’d ever grace you with.

“Thank you for being the first person I ever loved,” he says, effectively shattering your heart into pieces, just like your favorite chipped mug.

You shut your eyes tightly and savor the moment. You’re in Jungkook’s warm, strong, and steady embrace, and he is your refuge. You’re in Jungkook’s warm, strong, and steady embrace, and the two of you are the only ones in the galaxy, in the universe. You’re in Jungkook’s warm, strong, and steady embrace, and you are frozen in time, eyes closed, bodies still, but hearts no longer beating in the same musical rhythm as they once did.

You force yourself to pull away first, and the moment is gone all too quickly. Jungkook seems to have difficulty letting go of you, but he still does so, albeit unwillingly. He almost looks like he regrets his decision to end your relationship, like he wants to change his mind about it. You decide not to give him a chance to, though, because what’s done has been done, and if Jungkook no longer wants you in his life, then so be it.

You pull open the door and look back at Jungkook, who, despite his tall stature, seems so small standing there beside you. His hands are back in the confines of his pockets and as he stares at you, he’s biting down on his bottom lip so hard you worry it might bleed.

You open your mouth to bid him farewell and the typical “I love you” crawls up your throat out of habit, but you prevent those words from slipping out of your mouth.

Instead you opt for, “I guess this is where we go our separate ways.”

“I guess it is.”

You muster a small, tight-lipped smile, not wanting your last moments together to resemble anything of the negative sort. “Goodbye, Jungkook,” you say, and you almost add, “I’ll miss you,” to the end but decide against it.

Jungkook seems crestfallen, though you don’t know why. He takes a look around your apartment, one last good look, before turning back to you, managing a small, tight-lipped smile of his own. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

And just like that, he leaves. You silently shut the door behind him and make your way back into the kitchen and over to the sink, pouring out his full mug of hot chocolate that’s now gone to waste. You walk into the living room afterwards, collapsing onto the couch, and stare into space for several moments. Then you begin to cry.

Jeon Jungkook is the personification of winter.

But like all seasons, winter eventually comes to an end.

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