#and id already drawn and coloured the hands so it was too late to fix it and i drew the keys around it

[ctubbolore]

OOOIGUHHH COUGH SYRUP I MISS YOUUU. last year i got sick and spent 3 days working on a drawing and I really want to post the full thing it but it's like. there's things I like about it and things I reeeeeaalllyyy don't like about it so.

[jikook-love]

Heartwrecker

CHAPTER 14 | atonement

Love had always been a literal game to Jeon Jungkook. His targets would be the playing pieces, and their emotions the mere obstacles he had to seduce, manipulate and alter through his acts. Win their hearts? Win the game. But when Taehyung asks Jungkook to deal with the relationship of his childhood best friend Park Jimin, Jungkook quickly discovers that "love" isn't at all as simple as he thought would be...

read on ao3

Hazy lights, and loud music played vividly in background as the world spun around him in a dreamlike state. Unfamiliar hands grazed his covered skin, taking advantage of his drowsy state, touching what didn’t belong to them. How much alcohol had he consumed up until now? It’d be a miracle if he could even remember how he’d gotten here in the first place. It’d been like this for awhile now, night after night after night. Repetitive and mundane, yet the only way he could afford to keep his state of mind—by forgetting. He remained seated, lounging almost, on the torn up red leather couch, his body limp and his eyes faded.

One of the bolder ones suddenly got on top of him, straddling him with her uncovered legs. He remained compliant, not even bothering to shuffle in discomfort. He merely turned his head away, but allowed her to do whatever she wanted.

Why should it matter? Nothing mattered anymore.

She called the name that he had told her awhile ago and he finally obliged to look at her. She immediately took advantage of this, grabbing his face and slamming her lips onto him. He could vaguely hear the shrieks all around them, cries of jealousy followed by aggressive tugging to give them a chance as well. He ought to have felt disgusted. At the very least, he should’ve pushed her away.

But of course, he felt absolutely nothing.

Not even as she was trying to pry his lips open. There was no sensation, not even a tingle. Nothing. It was as if his body had gone numb a long time ago. He let her push him deeper into the couch, trace his cheeks and doing whatever she thought was pleasuring him. But it was all on the contrary.

At last, she pulled away, having satiated her greed. Before anyone else could clamber onto him, he tugged himself away from their grasps, hearing whines of anguish and grief as he straightened his jacket and stumbled his way over to the bar.

“Bartender! What should I drink next?!” he drawled to the best of his ability. When he was given no immediate answer, he pointed to the drink of the customer sat next to him and said, “Give me that one.” Despite the subtle concern, the bartender obliged, grabbing the liquors and proceeding to make the drink.

“Don’t you think you’re causing too much of a scene in a classy place like this?” entered a new voice.

He looked up to see a woman sitting right beside him, hand pressed again her chin as she watched him intently. She was wearing red lipstick that matched the shade of her drink. The slight smirk on her ruby lips indicated that she found him more amusing than irritating.

The man nodded at her. “Why does it matter to you anyway?”

“It does actually,” she responded casually. “I came here to have a quiet drink before meeting up with someone, yet here you are, drinking up the entire bar and flirting with every girl in the palce.”

He tilted his head, finally absorbing what she looked like. Suddenly, he leaned forward, smiling deviously as he barely trespassed into her personal space.

“You seem different from the other girls,” he spoke smoothly. “How about you ditch your date and come with me for a while? Let’s go have some fun. Just the two of us.”

“No thanks,” she replied at once. “I’d prefer not to be a scapegoat for all the self-pity you’re dealing with right now.”

He was taken aback. He hadn’t been refused for a while, not like this. Not since he’d fully adapted this alter-ego of his, venting his distress by displaying himself as an amorous man in search of fulfilling his desires.

“Self-pity?” he asked.

She smiled again, the redness of her lips haunting him momentarily. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “You’re repenting right now, acting like such a sorry person. Going out every night, drinking even though you don't even like to drink, dousing the pain to ease the emptiness within you, and tonguing everyone you meet to declare to the world that you’ve truly given up on love. It’s quite obvious really, and you should give up, cause no one’s really watching you. You’re just ruining yourself.”

He stared at her, not entirely sure how to respond to her harsh accusations.

“What makes you say that?” he glared, wanting an explanation for her sharp words.

She tilted her head to look at him, smiling once again.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she said.

Despite his drunken state, he froze up at the sound of his true name. “How do you know my—”

“You’re heartbroken, aren’t you? Completely and utterly shattered.”

He stared at her with wide eyes, sobriety momentarily returning at once. He suddenly felt extreme resentment towards her, for fully conjuring the image of the one he’d tried so hard to forget. But he knew, he always secretly knew that that person had never left his mind at all, always laden in the depths of his subconscious, haunting him and constantly punishing him for his betrayal. It brought a chill to his body, and before he knew it, he was on his feet, staring at her in horror.

She wasn’t even looking at him at anymore, as she typed away on her phone and smiled elatedly to herself, satisfied by the reaction she’d evoked in him.

“Ah, well, he’s waiting for me outside,” she said nonchalantly. She tucked her phone away before looking him in the eye and saying, “I’d get this whole situation fixed if I were you, before you go completely crazy.”

He said nothing, as she swung her purse onto her shoulder and prepared to leave the bar.

“Oh! One more thing,” she said abruptly.

He wondered what more she could say when she suddenly pointed at the counter top behind him.

“You should put your ID away, by the way,” she said courteously. “Wouldn’t want to lose that, Jungkook.”

One last smile, and then she was finally gone, out the door to pursue a future that was most definitely more hopeful than his own.

Her words echoed in his mind.

“You’re heartbroken, aren’t you? Completely and utterly shattered.”

No. She’s wrong, he thought to himself with reassurance. That wasn’t love. That was…something else. Entirely.

At that very moment, the bartender placed down a glass of deep red liquid, reminiscent of the colour of the lady’s lips, the mouth that had spoken all those accusatory words.

“I’d get that fixed if I were you, before you go completely crazy.”

He stared at the glass for a few minutes, contemplating a complex mess of thoughts inside his head.

But then within the next second, he had already grabbed the glass, mixing the contents inside.

Eyes lidded and lips parted, he downed it all it in one gulp.

  Jeon Jungkook left the bar in a miserable state: hair tousled, clothes dishevelled and no rhythm to his walk. He seemed hopeless, and so different from the person he’d been only a month ago. He walked alone, beneath the somber night, with only the dim street lights to shine his way. And for some reason, despite his numbed state, his chest felt unbearably painful, as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart tightly from the inside.

Ever since that self-righteous lady spoke to him he couldn’t stop thinking about that person. Even when those girls were crooning in his ears he pushed them all away, despite their persistence. All he could think about was that smile, that smile that once had the power to light up his entire world, but was a smile he would never see again.

And it was all his fault. Right from the beginning, he should’ve never gotten involved. He should never have waited until the very end to realize that a sleazy, cheating con man like himself could never be with such a charming and kind-hearted person. He should’ve realized it from the moment he laid eyes on that person. He should’ve known his place—he was worthless, and he had nothing.

I could never make someone like him happy.

As if still trapped in his deepest nightmares, the sound of that person’s laughter resonated through his ear, the melody akin to a siren’s call—the only sound that could heal his abandoned heart. Jungkook daringly raised his head for the first time upon exiting the bar, wanting to properly take in his surroundings.

And that’s when he saw him.

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he saw a familiar silhouette in the distance. It couldn’t be. Instinctively, he stepped in the direction of the person standing in the distance. It was clearly a well-dressed man, with black hair and short but proportionate stature. His face was turned away from Jungkook, so he couldn’t be sure, but every thing else was so reminiscent that he even felt his heart skip a beat or two.

No way…

He was about to retreat in the opposite direction and walk away before the person could see him, but it was too late. The person turned around and looked Jungkook squarely in the eye, his face fully revealed underneath the street lamp perched above him.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief.

It isn’t him.

But for some reason, this stranger kept staring at Jungkook, with slanted eyes that reminded him way too much of the person who he'd once left. Before he even realized it, he was rooted to the spot by the person’s gaze, controlled by a stimulating combination of supressed desires and nostalgia. And even when he was approached by the man, he remained still, not moving an inch.

“You look like a deer in the headlights,” the stranger said. “You alright, boy? Not lost or anything?”

He really does look like...  Jungkook couldn’t help but think to himself upon seeing the man up close.

Stiffly, Jungkook shook his head. “No, I—I’m fine. Just a little…out of it.”

The man brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, not too differently from how that person used to do it. Jungkook felt drawn to him, even in the slightest. And when the man gazed him up and down with his sharp eyes, he seemed to notice this.

“You should go home, boy,” the man said, his voice deeper than how Jungkook remembered Jimin’s. “It could be dangerous. You know what this place is, don’t you?”

When he noticed that Jungkook looked confused, he continued by himself, nodding to a bar across the street.

“That right there is a hotspot for guys like me,” he spoke slowly. “We come out to find other men to hook up with to ease a lonely night. You should leave before they mistake you for their prey…”

And then he noticed Jungkook gazing in the direction of the bar, almost as if he was contemplating to go inside.

His eyes sparked eagerly as he stepped closer to Jungkook, who was immediately startled.

“…unless you’re one of us, you cute little bunny,” he murmured. He was close enough that Jungkook could smell the cigarettes on his breath. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t get quite so lucky in there tonight, so how about you come with me tonight and restore my luck, hmm? I’ve been looking for a cutie like you for quite some time now.”

Jungkook hesitated, staring at him with wide eyes. “Well, I—uh—”

“I’m your type, aren’t I?” he edged on. “I could feel you staring from all the way over there. Come on, bunny, I’ll make you feel so good. You definitely won’t regret it.”

He positioned himself so that Jungkook was forced to look him in the eye again. Jungkook felt his breath hitch in his throat when his brain connected the resemblance once again.

Those eyes…

What difference did it make at this point? He didn’t know if it was the post-haze of the alcohol or his actual brain thinking at this point but perhaps this stranger was the exact thing that Jungkook had been looking for this whole time.

The only person that could restore at least a tiny bit of his empty heart, with no commitment whatsoever. 

Hesitantly, Jungkook nodded. The man smiled kindly, opening his arms and allowing Jungkook to slowly walk himself into them. His embrace was warm, much warmer than Jungkook expected him to be.

“There we go,” the man sighed happily, running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair (which, surprisingly, didn’t feel too bad). “I’ll definitely make you satisfied, little one.”

“Jungkook? Is that you?”

Jungkook reopened his eyes, pushing himself away to see a familiar young man staring at him disbelief.

“Yoongi hyung?!” Jungkook gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“I could say the same thing about you, you disappearing bastard,” Yoongi snarled. “And who the hell’s this guy?”

“I—I don’t know,” Jungkook stuttered. “I—I just met him so—”

Yoongi glared furiously at the stranger standing between them. “Get the fuck out of here, you perverted creeper,” he shouted angrily.

The man was extremely startled. “What the hell, man? I was just—”

Yoongi was pointing accusing fingers at this point. “I know your shitty type, you come out at night to lure out unknowing young boys, don’t you? You sick pervert.”

“I didn’t do anything! Just ask your friend, I was just—”

“I said, get the fuck out of here. Before I spit on you.”

Horrified, the stranger stared, petrified, at Yoongi for a second before immediately bolting away into the darkness, never to be seen again.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think?” Jungkook mumbled, as stably as he could.

“What? You think trash like that deserves anything better?” Yoongi was still grumbling.

“To be fair, I did come onto him a little…” Jungkook said, scratching the back of his neck.

Yoongi nearly snapped his neck turning around to look at Jungkook. “Are you serious? Why?” He paused for a moment, recollecting himself, recalling there were more urgent situations at hand.

“Anyways, I’m so glad I bumped into you here—where have you been for the past month, anyway?” Yoongi asked firmly, grabbing onto Jungkook's shoulders. “Taehyung’s been worried sick about you. Says you haven’t been going to class and every time he tries to visit your apartment, you’re not there. Despite the fact that it’s you guys, I feel like this is more than just an elaborate game of hide and seek. So what’s up, kid? Tell me what’s wrong.”

The young boy twirled about on his feet, not wanting to answer. As glad as he was that Yoongi just saved him from what could’ve been a horrible predicament, he was quickly beginning to sense the burden which came with consoling in others—it was hard to tell who really cared, and who were merely feigning concern in order to expose weaknesses.

“I’ve just been out and about. Enjoying youth,” Jungkook shrugged. “Having fun.”

Yoongi scoffed, glaring at Jungkook in frustration. “You crazy bastard, you call this fun?” he scowled. “Look at yourself!” Yoongi’s fingers gestured towards Jungkook’s subpar and messy appearance. “You were never like this before…”

Yoongi’s voice trailed off, as he caught sight of something on Jungkook’s clothes. Stepping closer, he grabbed onto the collar of Jungkook’s black jacket and pulled it back to reveal a bright pink stain on the white collar of the dress shirt beneath.

“What’s this about?” Yoongi murmured. “Don’t tell me some girl’s got you on a leash?”

“It’s not like that!” Jungkook snapped, tugging his jacket back and pulling himself away from Yoongi.

“Really then? Whose lipstick is that?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How many girls could you have…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off as he began to consider what Jungkook could’ve been up to these past nights.

“Jungkook…” Yoongi spoke slowly, approaching him with careful steps. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong. I know you’re not usually this kind of person.”

The words flipped a switch within Jungkook, as he suddenly surged with the courage to fight back.

“How do you know I’m not this kind of person?” Jungkook asked, his tone reaching a precarious edge. “Since when did any of you guys care anyway? You all knew what I did for a living, yet not one of you dared to tell me it was wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi asked, flabbergasted. “You said you only broke up couples who deserved to be that way! Don't make it sound like you were some sort of...prostitute or something.”

Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists, speechless for a moment. It was true. He had managed to convince everyone—including himself—that what he was doing was for the greater good somehow. That breaking up all those couples would make the world a better place in some way.

He snorted to himself—he should’ve known better than to play hero at his age.

“Hyung…can we stop talking about this, now?” Jungkook grimaced. “I have a headache. Please.”

But Yoongi wasn’t about to back down so easily. “No. Not until you clearly explain to me why you haven’t been going to school for nearly a month and no one knows where the hell you’ve been. I swear to god I had to trade away all my luck for the rest of the year in order to find you here tonight. So tell me everything, before you run off again.”

“What if I don’t wanna talk right now?” Jungkook mumbled, stumbling over his shoes again as he tried to walk away. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Since when did you become such a disrespectful asshole?” Yoongi grumbled. “You’ve had too much to drink, you idiot. Now stop acting like a problem child and tell me now, or I’ll punch it out of you.”

“Good night, hyung,” Jungkook mumbled as he turned away. “I’ll see you later…”

“Jeon Jungkook, I’m asking you one last time.”

“…or never,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath. His steps quickened, to allow himself to disappear into the darkness for good. They were foolish. All of them. They were all talk—not one of them had ever done a thing to pull him away from this hell.

“JUNGKOOK!”

The bellow caused Jungkook’s entire body to shiver, and he no longer felt at ease like before. His entire body tensed up, preparing for the punch that Yoongi had promised. 

But instead, he felt a pair of warm arms wrap around, fastening tightly and not letting go.

“Let me go!” Jungkook yelped. He found that he had no strength to resist despite that Yoongi was supposed to be much smaller and lighter than him. It was two men, struggling in the middle of the streets at an hour way past midnight, with no one else to witness the ridiculous scene.

“Nope,” Yoongi replied. Hanging on with one hand, he fumbled into his pocket and pulled out his phone, calling someone that was quite obviously near the top of his speed dial.

“Hey, where are you right now?” Yoongi asked. “Can you come help me for a second? I got a package I need to deliver. Thanks. Bye.”

Jungkook tried to break out of Yoongi’s hold, but his older friend was a lot stronger than he'd thought. Plus, his intoxicated state was doing nothing to help his focus.

“Calm down,” Yoongi said softly, patting Jungkook on the back, doing his best to sooth him. “Now let’s get you some real help.”

    That feeling when your body no longer belongs to you, when the same air that once was solace seemed to toss and turn your body, squeezing at your organs and tearing your breath away.

He was falling.

It was a terrifying sensation. But Jungkook couldn’t even struggle—his limbs no longer belonged to himself. It was a freedom that he never asked for, a freedom that was most certainly hell-destined.

But suddenly, it was over as abruptly as when he’d started. The impact was much lighter than he’d expected it to be. He groaned as he struggled to his feet, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings.

A black fountain. Stone benches. Walls of forest green looming over high above. An overarching sky as dark as ink itself.

It was a place that was much too familiar for comfort.  

“Jungkook,” a voice called him name, echoing along the walls of flora.

He looked up and there he was. The apparition that he feared the most. This Jimin had a much crueller look in his eyes, yet somehow he was so many times more beautiful. He was wearing all black, almost as if to mourn for their past, with his eyes dark, alluring and tempting. Jungkook desperately wanted to hold this Jimin but also feared for his well-being in his presence, wanting to scream and run away all at the same time. It was a terrifying feeling. 

“You’re all alone again, aren’t you? Poor, poor Jungkook,” Jimin's voice was supposed to be a whisper, but t he venomous words seeped through his ears, creeping through his blood like poison. It rendered his body paralyzed and his eyes frozen.

“It’s what you deserve isn’t it?” the Dark Jimin sneered. “That’s what you get for messing with people for so long, trying to convince yourself it was all a good deed. It’s a shame you fell in love with me, otherwise you might've gotten away with it again. But of course, you couldn’t resist. Many people couldn’t. You were never the only one.”

He paused for a moment, before his lips curved into the most devilish, evil smirk.

“It’s not like you were special or anything, after all,” Jimin asserted, on the equivalence of shoving a knife straight through Jungkook’s heart. "You're so stupid, Jungkookie~"

Click. Click.

That sound…

Click. Click. Click. Click.

A pair of heels.

And then she appeared, almost out of nowhere. She was wearing a tiny black dress as she wrapped her pale, thin arms around Jimin, nuzzling her face into his shoulders lovingly. Even she appeared stunning in this world, enchantingly matched as she stood next to Jimin.

“Ah, honey, so this is where you were?” she drawled out, her tone drivelling, mocking, as Jungkook could only watch them powerlessly. Park Jimin reciprocated her touches, smoothly running a hand over her waist and pulling her closer as he brushed his nose in her dark hair.

“What on Earth was I thinking?” Jimin spoke harshly, not caring that Jungkook could hear his every word. “Picking him over someone like you.”

Her laughter echoed through the place, resonating like an eagle’s cry.

“More like what was he thinking when he thought you would pick him over me,” she crooned loud and clear. "God what an idiot he must be. You've got absolutely no future with him. And who knows? When would be the next time he'd do his 'job' again behind your back?" 

Before Jungkook could retort or relinquish in the pain, his surroundings suddenly changed again. In this distorted world where anything went, his surroundings of darkness suddenly evaporated into white, flashing by like a rapid snapshot.  

Within the next second, there were white flower petals cascading down upon him, akin to a scene from a fairy tale. Everything was white and glowing, and raucous laughter and cheers around him indicate that this truly was a joyous event. Even his own tormented heart was lifted for a moment, seeing the countless smiles and happy faces all together in in an uplifting crowd…

And then he saw it.

Undeniably, it was a couple on the altar. They were enchantingly beautiful, their smiles pure and rejuvenating to the crowd beneath, almost as if they were the kind, treasured royals of a worthy nation. She wore a simple, yet billowing white dress, and her genuinely elated expression made her seem the most gorgeous Jungkook had ever seen her, while he…

He was…

A knot formed tightly in his chest. He suddenly felt weak in the knees, wondering if he could even move. The world was still basked in flowers and joy yet he only felt a crushing sadness welling up within. Again, he could only watch, as the happy groom pulled his lovely new wife in for a kiss on the cheek.

Tears formed in his eyes. He was on his knees before he knew it. People were starting to stare at him, point at him now, wondering what a depressing person was doing at such a happy occasion. It hurt, it hurt so bad. It tore at him and gnawed at his chest, begging for an unrequited love that he could not control. It was as if everyone could see him at this point—everyone but the bride and groom, so absorbed in their own world of love and happiness that they couldn't care less for anything else.

In desperation, he tried calling out the name of the person he wanted most, but all that came out was emptiness. They couldn’t hear him, no matter how much he screamed, no matter how much he begged for a second chance.

It didn’t matter anymore. It was much too late to change anything now.  Despite that, he kept silently crying out, until the point where his throat felt hoarse and his lungs threatened to burst.

And then, everything was fading, fading once again. All to black.

The couple was disappearing into nothingness. He could finally hear his own cries, sounding so mangled and distressed, yet they still heard nothing.

He called the name one last time in desperation. The only name that could bring him comfort.

The person froze, as if finally hearing him for the first time. Jungkook’s heart welled up in hope as he glanced in his direction, lips parted almost as if in recognition—

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

And then he turned his back. And was gone. Faded away into nothingness.  

The deafening silence was more than enough, and without even the strength left to cry out, Jungkook felt the stream of empty, worthless tears sliding down his cheeks…

 "It's for the best," he whispered to himself like a mantra. "It's for the best it's for the best it's for the best it's for the best it's for the best it's for the best it's..."

Jungkook jolted awake in a cold sweat. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just gone through several ordeals and back. He pressed a hand against his forehead, trying to separate his delusions and reality.

He wasn’t entirely sure what happened after Yoongi had grabbed him.

He might’ve blacked out, or was merely too out of it remember. He vaguely recalled trying to break free from a firm grasp, but it had all been to no avail. Now that he’d finally regained his senses, he found himself leaning against a pile of comfortable pillows with a blanket covering him. His jacket and tie had been removed and hung up on a chair in a room that he did not recognize.

“Sobered up yet?” a voice called out.

Jungkook looked up and saw the person he least expected to see. Taehyung’s friend, Jung Hoseok, was leaning on the doorway, arms crossed as he watched over him. Hoseok was fully decked out in his pajamas and his hair was an absolute puffy mess, a direct sign that he’d been rudely awoken at ungodly hours.

“Hoseok hyung?!” Jungkook gaped in shock. “Why are you here?”

“This is my room,” Hoseok replied calmly. “You’re the one who shouldn’t be here right now, especially at this hour.”

Jungkook held a hand to his head, a sudden throbbing pain coursing through his brain. “How did I get here again?” he groaned. “Where’s Yoongi hyung?”

“He went out for a bit after we got back,” Hoseok replied calmly, making his way towards Jungkook. “He doesn’t really cope well with people crying in front of him so he decided to make a run for it in the meantime.” A mug of something warm was placed gently on the bedside table next to Jungkook.

“You know, none of us are very happy with you right now,” Hoseok continued, donning the tone of a stern mother.

Jungkook breathed out a sigh. “I know…” he muttered honestly. “And I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“Are you really though?” Hoseok grumbled unsympathetically. “Not to sound harsh but wasn’t that just your way of calling for help?”

Jungkook was completely taken aback. “What? I—”

“Next time,” Hoseok insinuated. “Just ask for help. No matter how ashamed you feel. Anything is still better than wasting yourself away like that.”

Jungkook had nothing to say in response. Hoseok’s sentiments were highly reminiscent of the words of the lady in the red dress at the bar, and they were certainly damning to the ego.

But right now, he sensed that it was what he needed most right now, and his moments of drifting in the clouds were finally about to come to an end. It would be for the best.

“You know you can always talk to us.”

Jungkook’s ears perked at the sound of the new, yet familiar voice. His breath caught his throat when he looked up and saw who it was standing in the doorway.

Jungkook couldn’t believe his eyes.

Namjoon. Seokjin. Taehyung. Yoongi. They were all there. Waiting expectantly, and gazing at him with mixed looks of disappointment and concern.

“You guys…” he managed to croak out in his surprise.

Namjoon was the first one to move.

“He’s right, you know,” Namjoon spoke through a yawn. “We really aren’t that happy with you.”

“What on Earth have you been thinking, Jeon Jungkook?” If Jungkook had thought Hoseok sounded like an angry mother, Seokjin was magnitudes worse.

“You know what this means, brat?” Yoongi was grumbling. “You can’t run away anymore.”

All eyes were on him. If he were anyone else, he would’ve thrown a tantrum, called for the injustice of the situation and stormed out of the room. But the fact that they were all there, staring down at him at such a late hour at night spoke more than enough on its own. He rapidly reflected in his head, desperately trying to go through what he had become in the past few weeks, and why it had all led up to that.

“Time to start talking, Jungkook,” Taehyung huffed. “If you don’t, I will.”

Naturally, he hesitated. They were intimidating unlike Jungkook had ever seen them in the past.

But right now, this was what he needed. He knew he wouldn’t change if they went easy on him. His head was still throbbing, and he needed anything to distract himself from the pain his body was enduring internally.

He took another quick glance around the room, before giving them a quick nod.

“Fine,” he spoke. “I’ll tell you guys everything.”

Currently working on the next chapter (slowly). Sorry for forgetting to update on tumblr oops ;-;