love to hate you | jjk [viii]
“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: 18.351
— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3
— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!
You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.
The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.
Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.
“Fries?”
Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything.
“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head.
“No.”
The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.
“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”
“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.
“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.
They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit.
“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”
“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”
There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get.
“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.
“About what?”
She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”
You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.
“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”
And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”
“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”
Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak.
“What if… you don’t go?”
“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.
“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”
You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it.
“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”
Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.
“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”
“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”
“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself.
And what if that wasn’t enough?
You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,
“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.”
No one protested.
By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days.
“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.
“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”
She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.
“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”
Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.
“Just tell me.”
You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.
“I-I don’t know.”
You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.
“Ji?”
But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.
“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”
“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”
You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm.
“You texted Jeon?”
If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.
“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”
Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”
She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning.
“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”
An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.
“Go home.”
“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead.
“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”
Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips.
“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”
“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”
Jungkook laughed, thanking her.
“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.
You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.
“You’re wearing the scarf.”
“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold.
The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.
“Go home.”
“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”
He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”
Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”
His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.
“I’ll walk-”
“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?
“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”
“Do you even know where the next bus station is?”
“I can look it up.”
“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”
You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.
“I never asked you to pick me up.”
It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.
He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it.
“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”
And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.
He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you.
Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.
“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.
“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,
“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”
There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)
“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”
You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”
He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”
His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.
Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill.
You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.
“You should show me what you got.”
The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.
“I think you should.”
You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-
“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”
It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.
You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”
Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.
“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”
He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect.
“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.
“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.
It was sealed for you then.
“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”
“What? Why?”
“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”
Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”
“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”
He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.
“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”
You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,
“Sorry.”
The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.
“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-”
“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.
“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.”
But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.
“Can I look?”
You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.
“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”
“No.”
It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.
“What? But you look-”
“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”
You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.
With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.
Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling.
You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it.
And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.
You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.
“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.
“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.
“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”
“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”
He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his.
“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.
“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.”
His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable.
“You look incredible.”
He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.
“Don’t you like it?”
You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line.
“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head.
“But?”
“I don’t like it for…”
“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”
You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”
You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”
“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”
You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.
“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.”
You tilted your head to the side.
“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.”
He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.
”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”
“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.
“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”
“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”
You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before.
“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.
“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.
“That’s so mean, cabbage!”
“Oh, just shut up.”
Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.
“So, what do we think?”
You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”
He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”
And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.
“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes.
You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.
“Yeah, it is.”
He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”
You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-
“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”
Just eight days.
“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.
“It’s gonna be fine.”
There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.
“I promise you.”
“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”
And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”
His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room.
“It’s gonna be great.”
Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.
“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”
He tightened his arms around you.
(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.
“What?”
“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”
You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”
“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”
The past few years it had always only snowed in January.
“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)
“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”
Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”
“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all.
“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.
You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go?
“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”
“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”
“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same.
“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”
“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.
“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”
“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.
“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”
Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”
Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”
“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.
“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”
You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.
“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”
Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.
Oh.
Your friends followed your gaze.
Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-
But it wasn’t Narae.
It was Taehyung.
He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.
“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.
“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.
“How would I know?”
“You’re his girlfriend.”
“So?”
“Go find out.”
“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”
Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”
“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”
“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”
“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”
“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!
But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.
But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”
Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”
Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.
Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.
“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.
“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.
“Ow!”
“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”
Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.
“We weren’t arguing.”
And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.
Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.
“Is everything-”
“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”
Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”
And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.
“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.
You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”
There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.
“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.
You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.
What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?
Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.
You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.
Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.
Oh God.
You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?
There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.
“Hey.”
Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know.
“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.
Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.
“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.
“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you.
Neither of you said anything.
Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-
“Everything’s alright.”
You paused. “What?”
“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”
And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.
“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”
What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from.
“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice.
You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”
Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”
And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.
“Do you want to come over?”
The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-
“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”
Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess.
He didn’t want you to meet his parents.
“Hm.”
It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.
You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did.
“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.
He never liked you.
“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact.
“Goodnight-”
You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope.
It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.
A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.
[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?
And a text was all it took.
Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.
You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways.
His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all.
“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”
Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.
You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.
“Jeon?”
“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.
“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”
He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you.
“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”
You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.
“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”
Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious.
You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.
“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart?
You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask.
Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”
Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.
“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him.
“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name.
You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too.
When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.
Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.
“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you.
“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart.
Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?
Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-
The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.
You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.
“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”
But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.
“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”
You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.
“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”
Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?
“But we will figure this out, okay?”
Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.
“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”
You had lied.
“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.”
You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.
“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”
He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious.
“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”
You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?
It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.
Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him.
I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway.
You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?
“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”
You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too.
“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”
There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.
“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”
The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.
“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”
You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.
“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”
“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”
“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be?
“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.
He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”
You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand?
A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”
“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”
And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.
You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him?
Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.
The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes.
Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.
But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.
You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.
Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack.
“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”
Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”
Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him.
“Let’s-”
Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.
“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.
“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.
Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.
“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”
You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.
“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”
Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.
“I really-”
“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”
The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.
Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no.
You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed.
Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”
With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.
I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?
It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down.
You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.
“Do you want the seat warmer too?”
He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.
“I-It’s okay.”
“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window.
Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”
“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”
You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.
“Warm enough?”
He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him.
You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.
Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?
You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.
It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.
You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son.
Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.
From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.
Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes.
What were you doing here?
The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.
You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?”
His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.
“In the car. She’s sleeping.”
“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”
“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”
His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”
“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him.
You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into.
“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”
“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”
“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.
“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”
His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.
“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”
And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did.
You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.
Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything.
Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs.
Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen.
Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you!
He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?
But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.
You could no longer do this.
The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat.
Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.
No.
And then you took off.
“Y/N!”
You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy.
You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.
You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-
“Y/N!”
And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now.
You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run.
You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.
His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand.
You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.
“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!
“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”
Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.
“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”
Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?
“That’s alright.”
He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more.
“I’ll give you a ride home-”
“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”
Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”
“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”
His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”
You flinched. How could he still call you that?
“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”
“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”
“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”
“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”
“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”
None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again.
He had to hate you.
You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.
And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.
“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”
Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.
“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”
“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”
He shook his head, hands running through his hair.
“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”
“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”
You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.
“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”
He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.
“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”
“Y/N!”
Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists.
“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”
And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.
You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.
“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”
“No, you idiot!”
His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale.
“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”
Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point.
You’d never trust him.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”
“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”
“No, no-”
“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”
Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”
“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”
“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”
His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.
“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”
You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.
“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!”
You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.
“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”
“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”
Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?
“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”
He leaned forward, searched for your eyes.
It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.
“Y-yeah, I do.”
Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.
“You don’t mean that-”
“Yes, I do-”
“Y/N, no, no, you-”
“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”
It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead.
The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.
“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”
Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much.
“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”
He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground.
Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.
“Okay.”
You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-
The keys looked cold to the touch.
“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”
Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood.
“It’s fine, I can-”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.
Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.
→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
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✧ "THE SCORCHING BLAZE OF APPLE MIST"
☆ synopsis ↺: you, a rich and affluent descendant of the gojo clan, attend a luxurious school reunion after a year of attending jujutsu high. unable to take the constant pressure of your former classmates, you call up a friend to appease the tough audience.
☆ content ↺: fluff, fake dating, rich people stuff, female reader, megumi x reader, based off queen of tears ep 2
☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: mabagal — by daniel padilla & moira dela torre
☆ w/c ↺: 4.8k
in jujutsu society, long bloodlines of talented sorcerers create influential and tight-knit clans; clans contribute to the financial support of jujutsu tech, and influence jujutsu to outside organizations and public figures. in this world, there are 3 strongest sorcerer clans:
first, was the kamo clan—a bloodline known for its conservative and traditional beliefs. Like the ultra-rich, they practised old traditions to preserve their sacred bloodline. the people of this clan decide to live in a reserved manner, as the population is predominantly composed of the older generation.
second, was the zenin clan—a bloodline of toxicity, control and archaic values. if you didn't meet your family's standards as a sorcerer and person, you were shunned out by your blood, left to fend for yourself. their sorcery is potent, but their values are strict and unruly.
third, the gojo clan—your very own blood, cursed energy, and soul. they are the descendants of michizane sugawara, renowned as one of japan's big three vengeful spirits. predominantly, the gojo clan is highly respected for its bloodline's sheer talent. but, upon private family gatherings, you knew that the current strength of the clan was only held by the current head of the family. the one with the six eyes; the limitless technique—your relative, gojo satoru, was the gojo clan's invincible ace card. he made the decisions, the desire, the drive; gojo satoru is allowed to do whatever he pleases—because he is gojo satoru.
however, perhaps that was enough of your nonsensical inner dialogue, it was time to face the truth:
you stood beneath the polished white staircase, an entrance to a pair of huge, wooden double doors. for a descendant of a wealthy clan such as yourself, even if you were a little nervous at the raw size of this mansion. smoke enveloped the nooks and crannies of the luxurious establishment, and only the finest woods and architecture were crafted and delicately constructed here. to you, a school for the rich wasn't a place of friendships and recreation, it was simply a place to make connections.
which is why you attended a middle school reunion party, hosted by one of your former classmates, whose family is in the top 1% of japan's sustained wealth. as you stand before the mansion in front of you, you bite nervously onto a manicured nail. you were in high school now, not the high school that all your former classmates attended—which was one of the most prestigious academies in japan. but you attended a highly religious private institution with no more than 10 students, also known as jujutsu high.
yes, jujutsu high is an education recognized as the foundation of jujutsu society. but civilians, especially wealthy civilians, don't have the knowledge or mental capacity to understand the innate prestige that jujutsu high has in store for its students. to your middle school classmates, you disappeared into the outskirts of tokyo to become a monk.
you walk past the open double doors, inhaling and exhaling sharply to yourself. 'this is just another rich gathering holding moody teenagers, nothing new.' though immediately, you were met with the pungent smell of expensive fragrances lingering in the air and the accommodation of partying students in lavish dresses and suits.
you pause, intaking the crowd density of your environment, until you hear an excited yell: "[name] came! I just saw her enter!" suddenly, a rush of familiar high-schoolers surrounded you with surprised gasps and some noticeably hostile glares, "gojo [name]! you came out of hiding!" a teenager screams, earning a polite chuckle from you in return.
a few minutes pass, and you were already getting doted on by your girlfriends: "oh my god, you look stunning, I could kiss ya right now." your old friends take turns twirling you around, wrapping their arms around yours and your shoulders to show you around the place, "c'mere, bitch! I have to tell ya about takeda's dad's stock market scandal!" one of your friends yells, the excitement in her tone suspiciously slurred—you wonder what kind of drinks they served in this party.
once settled in, you linger around the establishment by yourself. looking at the people around you; the drinks served, the bright lighting of chandeliers, and the freshly waxed marble flooring.
you did notice one thing, though, sighing in disappointment, almost everybody was paired into neat assortments of young couples. you understood that relationships in youth, especially high school, have very slim longevity. but, it did sting you a bit; a feeling of subtle loneliness subsiding over you. even your friends had boyfriends—some good-looking, some not, but all well-off.
you twirl the base of your mocktail between delicate fingers, processing your observation bitterly. until, the soft sound of heels clicking behind you captures your attention, "ah, gojo," a feminine voice calls out to you. dressed in a raven cocktail dress, her presence reeked of chanel.
your former academic rival and classmate, yukina tominaga; a bitch dressed in prada.
you decide to leave the past behind you, politely smiling: "how are you, yukina?" you casually ask, no bite in your tone. you were here to make allies, not enemies, you thought, inhaling softly. the girl twirls a strand of her raven hair around her finger, smiling eagerly, "i'm good, my dad just opened up another mall in yokohama." she boasts, earning a nod from you. "i've heard. it's really popular right now, congratulations."
an awkward silence precedent in the massive party hall, the loud and giggly chatter in the background subsiding.
her amber gaze meets yours for a second, fleeting with a sense of animosity mixed with a hint of surprise, "thank you." yukina's lips curve into a smile, "you're attending jujutsu high, right? congratulations." you tilt your head slightly in confusion, a compliment from your peers about your source of education? that was entirely new to you. "hm? well, thank you." you reply, sipping your fruity drink carefully. "yeah, my dad won't shut up about how 'it's the backbone of society or something." she rolls her eyes teasingly.
"i like your dress, by the way." the girl adds, watching as you glance down at the cutting-edge navy blue party dress. it wasn't anything similar to a gown or tight skim dress—just fitting for the occasion, yet classy and expensive. it felt too bland in your honest opinion, the silk loops of your sleeves exposing the expanse of your shoulders and collarbone. "thank you, again." you smile, nodding graciously.
yukina adjusts the sleeves of her black cocktail dress, scoffing slightly in bemusement as she stops sipping her drink, turning to you. "no boyfriend yet?" she asks, quirking a mischievous brow, "no," you reply instantaneously, shaking your head. the girl almost smiles brightly, giggling softly. "really? not even a date over here?" you take another look around the expanse of couples doused in high-quality fabrics and drinks. "well, i'm not sure, i have to catch up with friends, after all."
"pfft," yukina stops twirling her hair, snickering softly, causing you to quirk a brow. "[name], do you not see that everyone here has a partner? this place is known for being one of the best ball-dancing establishments." you take a glance at your drink, pondering your life choices for a second, before looking off to the side: "i see, must be exciting for someone like you." you reply, earning a mocking gasp from the raven-head.
"tsk, i mean, did you even get asked out?" she questions, a cocky smirk present on her face. "by some, i refused, though." you sip into your drink again, running a few nervous fingers through the silk of your hair. "wow, that's surprising." yukina snickers, "knowing your personality, i wonder how you even had suitors that lasted more than one conversation."
the air gets tenser in the room once the grumble of words even threatens to escape past her lips, you glare expectantly at the shorter girl.
you scoff dryly, "excuse me?"
raising a brow, you grip the glass of your drink a little tighter, steadying yourself. "listen, you want some advice?" she asks, a bite of superiority and confidence in her tone. you tilt your chin curiously, "well, if you want to give it so bad.. go ahead."
yukina inhales sharply in annoyance for a second, before pursing her glossed lips into a smirk, "well, my boyfriend and i have always had this thing where we face the same direction on everything. i've never had one argument with him, yet… you argue with men all the time even if you're not dating. how interesting," she chuckles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her decorated ear, taking another sip from her glass. "your point?" you question, crossing your arms. "all i'm saying is, you should be more pleasant to men, that's what they like, anyway." yukina snickers, brushing some dust off your shoulder teasingly, pulling an audacious scoff from your throat. "maybe then, you can get a boyfriend," she slyly walks past you, bumping the shoulder she just brushed.
you stare at her walking off, knitting your eyebrows in suppressed anger, your glabella forming a line between them. the girl then turns around once more, a humourless laugh in her tone: "or at least a date, since you couldn't get that either."
you scowl, snapping back a reply instantly, "that's becau—" yukina completely ignores you, instead running off to her boyfriend, cutting you off: "babe!" she giggles, disappearing into the crowd of chattering and partying.
this night couldn't get any worse, you thought.
you stood in one of the crystal white bathroom stalls, looking into the contacts of your phone:
"no.." you mutter, teeth pinching into the gold of your necklace. "itadori's too normal." brushing over his contact, your shoes clack against the waxed flooring. "inumaki would show up in a t-shirt and sweats," you mumble, scoffing momentarily as you brush over your upperclassman's contact.
"damn it.. who is tall, handsome and at least seemingly rich?.." you think to yourself, tapping a finger on your chin, before coming to a brilliant revelation. you press onto the contact of one of your classmates, pushing the phone to your ear. the line dials; one.. two.. the other line connects with a beep: "hello?"
you clear your throat nervously, whispering into the speaker of your phone, "fushiguro, do you like dior or tom ford?"
he didn't get you.
not yesterday, not tomorrow, and not today.
megumi sat in his dorm, fiddling with a recent non-fiction book he picked up at the library—scoffing abruptly to himself as you suddenly hung up the call. carding nimble fingers through spiky dark blue locks, the teenager sighs, dialling your number again.
"what is she on about.." he mutters as the line beeps patiently, waiting for you to pick up.
beep.
beep.
his eyes widen as the line picks up, "the number you called isn't available right now. please leave a voicemail at the bee—" end.
megumi sighs, grumbling to himself as you decline his call, before receiving a sudden message, a message of the address to the party you were currently attending, and a polite "can you please be there?" text present on his screen.
the boy was silently contemplating; pretending to be your boyfriend at some rich party? It's odd coming from his classmate nearing the end of the school year. on one hand, there was a deal—3 free dior sauvage perfume bottles at his doorstep, or really, any deal of choice that you could achieve for him.
but, he thought, megumi would have to spend some time getting ready, picking the correct suit for the occasion and a piece that would get him complimented by you at the door, and play the part by calling you his girlfriend: buying you drinks, holding your waist, and possibly dancing with you?—no, he couldn't do that.
although, out of the only gojo's he knew, you were the more competent one. megumi dearly respected you, as a friend, classmate and jujutsu sorcerer. the teenager often believed gojo satoru needed to take notes from you regarding efficiency, scoffing as the white-haired man would quirk a brow whenever megumi would talk about you is much better than gojo satoru—the six eyed greek god, or so he claimed.
megumi didn't want to let you down, the secret affection he felt towards you melting away in the back ropes of his heart. but then again, he would have a big role to play. being somebody's boyfriend, it took plenty of work. he heard the potency of relationship dilemmas from nobara, who kept up with celebrity scandals and drama. megumi thought about it, he didn't want to do it, he simply wasn't going to. even the thought of being lovey-dovey with you itself made the teenager's stomach churn in distaste. the teen shook his head, knowing he already had dior sauvage, he could get another bottle right now if he wanted to.
—megumi thought, buttoning up his fanciest white button-up as he searched for fine-clad suits to wear tonight.
"this is stupid, i'm being framed," he muttered to himself, closing his closet door begrudgingly.
was it begrudgingly, fushiguro?
his blurred vision outlined the bright lights of the establishment, loud music and the rich smell of attendees laughing and singing. megumi was surrounded by party-goers as soon as he walked through the double doors, clutching the raven of his cashmere blazer, stuffing a hand into his pocket.
"who is that?" a girly voice asked, earning curious glances from other people. "why's his hair so spiky?" soft giggles from the right whisper feverishly, though not so quietly: "that's what you're worried about?" another girl voices, smirking to the crowd, "why is he so handsome?"
"pfft—" the group of people surrounding the tall teen choked back a laugh, until a gruff voice spoke out playfully, "i mean, i get it, and i'm a dude, so.."
"ew!"
"get help, ryu."
"i'm just saying!"
megumi ignored the chatter in front of him, azure eyes only gazing at one thing; the very reason the rest of his vision was blurred.
you.
you—wearing a silk navy blue dress, an enchanting dip and curve to your shoulders, down your neck, and your natural hair clasped into a half-risen bun. you—who glossed lips parted in surprise, eyes sparkling gently under the chandelier's lighting. you—who currently stood next to another guy.
was it begrudgingly, fushiguro? he couldn't help but stare. the sudden realization that he was supposed to be your boyfriend at this exact moment kicking into his noggin. megumi had to act like it, he had to accommodate you, he had to like you. this feeling, made his knees feel like jelly, oceany eyes darting to the marble ground, megumi gasped softly as his knees buckled unexpectedly, clutching the nearest table beside him.
"oh my god, is he gonna die!? who even is that?" voices scramble in the back, watching as the teenager fumbles around in the front foyer.
"[y/n]," megumi wrinkles his flushed nose, the embarrassment of losing his balance over quite literally nothing in front of the wealthy crowd sinking in. "sorry i'm late."
everyone at the foyer turned to gawk at you and back to the boy, repeating this process an obscene amount of times. "gojo, is he your?.."
you froze in place, fingers nervously tangling in the strands of your hair, "—he's my date!" shuffling your drink onto the counter before you, your eyes widening by the second, "sorr.."
about to apologize, your gaze darts to fushiguro, brows immediately furrowing at the sight before you: he was a complete nervous wreck. a hand tightly clutching a countertop, the other one clasping over his mouth, a faint pink tinting his cheeks and ears. even his dark hair looked sad, the spikes drooping down ever so slightly. you fiddle with your fingers while a strange feeling reels in the pit of your stomach.
"sorry.. for the commotion." you choke out.
awkward gazes and unbothered shrugs filled the room before everyone left to do their thing. they made some comments about his refined looks, his weird stomach problems—assuming he just had IBS or digestive issues, and how you, of course, got lucky. coming to an anticlimactic revelation, you scratch the back of your neck sheepishly: maybe fushiguro megumi wasn't as competent as you thought.
patting a handkerchief against the boy's temple, collecting the dampening sweat near his hairline, your gaze softens, "you can stop covering your mouth, you've been frozen for how long?" your eyes stare at the teen for a few moments, narrowing in mock-disbelief as fushiguro remains silent. his slim hand still covering the lower half of his face, a prominent adam's apple bobs in the smooth expanse of his throat. fushiguro swallows thickly as he adjusts the white collar of his suit, "i.. didn't get to brush my teeth before i arrived."
what a liar. you thought.
"your ears aren't invisible, y'know, you don't have to lie." crossed your arms over your chest, curving your lips into a small smile. the teen flushes and bites his tongue at the old memory of gojo convincing him that his ears turn pink when he lies—in which megumi knew was also a lie as he grew older. but he couldn't help but purse his lips and cover his ears quickly in the spur of the moment.
you scoff mockingly at this little action. however, a hint of subtle endearment lingered in your gaze: "hey, what's gotten into you tonight?" fushiguro grumbled softly, removing his hands from his reddened ears, "nothing."
you quirk a brow, eyes drowning in mirth.
"no seriously, it's nothing." he assures, fingers prodding at the soft spikes in his hair, "your favour—it just makes me uneasy." you nod in soft agreement, "yeah, i understand." pausing for a brief moment, before waving delicate hands in defence, "but, it's not that hard. just stay near me and give people rude stares, like you always do."
megumi glares at you from the side in offence, an airy giggle threatening to pull from your chest.
"fine," he mutters reluctantly, before his lithe fingers suddenly find home in the silk of your hair, causing you to grumble. "you're ruining my hair, do you wanna die?" you sneer, earning a light chuckle from the taller boy. "shut up and let me rudely stare at the guy that's been looking at you."
your stunned eyes widen as your lips part ever so slightly; the sight of you alone sends the familiar, wobbly feeling in megumi's knees to buckle.. again. "i've noticed him for a while," the teen mutters, gazing down at you affectionately, "you attract weird men." he scolds. biting your inner cheek nervously, you begrudgingly let megumi stroke and ruffle your hair for quite some time. gazes darting to your old classmate, whose disappointment washed over his face as he stared at you two.
but was it begrudgingly, [name]? you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn.
you had never felt his hand before this close.
yes, there were times you've high-fived, times where he brushed a hand against your shoulder, but that was in battle. you knew the precautions of sorcery, so many of your classmates have already touched you. this, however, felt different. perhaps it was because megumi was always so stuck up—the only time you could admire the faint smile painted on his snowy lips was when yuji and nobara weren't looking. softly smiling as the two walked away snickering about something stupid, as per usual. you noticed it; you always did, because his smile was like the sun shining on snow. when the purity of soft white snow captures the gaze of a hint of light, bright and fuzzy. that's the closest thing you could pinpoint to his smile, even if it was so fleeting. perhaps it was his slim hand tangled in the locks of your hair and the same smile he held only for himself planted on his lips was why you felt different.
you questioned why he was acting so different in the first place—it made you wonder what kind of drinks they served at this party.
squinting your eyes softly, your gentle gaze follows from the lining of his white button-up to his cashmere suit pockets, to his sculpted jawline, then to the expanse of ivory skin; smooth and delightful. your eyes would follow rosy cheeks, to finally the shining sea of his eyes; one that was already looking into yours.
one—you swore time stopped for a second, your heart dropping in your chest. could there be cockroaches in your stomach? you could've sworn there was a better insect to represent this feeling.
two—have his eyes always been this gentle? must they be so glassy? Even his long eyelashes were gorgeous; not saying he was, of course.
three—those lips of his in which you dearly admired the smile of. you remembered it was only his smile, not his lips itself. you liked the hue, the shape, the colour. gosh, if only you could get a lip gloss in that shade, it would be a designer product. your gaze mindlessly returns to his eyes,
…
you both snap your heads away, his hand immediately jolting back into his pocket. pink coating the pads of your cheeks.
even you felt a little disappointed, but couldn't understand why.
yukina tominaga—the very reason you invited fushiguro to this party in the first place.
perhaps you should thank her because the night has been going smoothly; no, more than smoothly. megumi didn't talk to anyone else, didn't make a fool of himself other than his strange stomach problems upon first his entrance, and reeked of wealth. no seriously, how could he act so posh? The teen held his chin high, refusing to look at any other woman in the room, and only spoke to the more sophisticated teenagers at the party; he simply looked straight out of a conglomerate family.
and you quite enjoyed smirking at the raven-head, cocking a brow at her while making eye contact. her response only gripped the sleeve of her boyfriend's tuxedo, who was a taller man with a bowl cut and constantly had his mouth stuffed with food.
"here you go," — a waiter from behind the marble counter draws a glass towards her, she swallows thickly before taking the glass. you walk over to the girl, elbows planted beside her, "i'll have a mocktail, please." you smile at the waiter as he nods and draws you another glass. pausing to look at yukina, she nervously tangles her fingers at the chain of her diamond necklace. a furrow in her brows, and narrowed look in her gaze. "what was it you said?" you question suddenly, twirling the glass in between nimble fingers, "that you and your boyfriend like to face the same direction on things?" she merely scoffs in response, head facing the other direction. "well, i didn't understand what you meant until i saw him myself." you chuckle softly, an obvious bite crawling in your tone. the girl grits her teeth, snapping her head to glare at you, "what was that?"
you snicker, "It's just that, with my boyfriend, i prefer it when we face each other." yukina scoffs, fingers slipping away from her drink, glaring as you tap a mocking finger on your chin. "so i can look at his face, y'know?" cooing, you grab the base of your mocktail before smiling, "but i'm sure you know nothing about that." you sneer, walking away from the girl.
she tilts her chin towards the ceiling in disbelief, teeth grinding at her inner cheek. that bitch, she thought, adjusting the top of her satin dress. until a sudden voice calls out, excited and smiley, "baby!" yukina's boyfriend greets, chocolate plastered all over his cheeks. the girl tries to smile back, her gaze betraying her of her annoyance, "babe! what happened?.."
"i.. there's so much free food!" her boyfriend giggles, stuffing another piece of chocolate cake into his mouth, "i love it! i mean, i love you—" the girl bites her lip in irritation, finally snapping, "shut up and wipe your mouth, will you?!"
…
how comical.
"it's finally over," you sigh in relief, feet stumbling on the concrete ground. you were currently outside of the rich establishment, tired and relieved that the party ended. the boy put his hands in his pockets, scoffing softly, "you owe me one." he bites, though a hint of affection lurking in his tone. your brows raise in delight, elements of your phone call coming back into your memory, "oh right," you pause, finger tapping at your cheek. "you said you didn't want perfume in return, what do you want?"
megumi bit his inner cheek in a silent wince, gaze darting to the ground, "well, i think.." he whispers, before returning his eyes to yours, "i want you to use my first name, call me megumi." your gaze softened, jaw slacking slightly in surprise, "eh?" you question, "that simple?" the boy sighs with hesitance, "it's because i don't wanna call you gojo, i wanna call you [y/n]." he mutters, fingers wiping at his nose nervously. "ah, so you don't get confused with gojo, correct?" you smile, "i understand."
megumi pursed his lips into a hidden pout, you don't, how could you be this dense? he thought. "okay, I'll get going then. bye, megumi." you wave at the teen, your other hand pulling out your phone to call your driver.
until, a lithe hand wraps around your wrist softly, pushing your phone back into your purse. "don't." he whispers, his words demanding, but his innovation ever so pleading. "we practically live next to each other, why don't we just walk home together?" your lips part in a soft gasp, about to speak, until a sudden blush betrays your cheeks, "what?.. are you sure? i can just call my driver for both of u—"
suddenly, a blazer drapes over your head, not around the curves of your shoulders, but covering your entire head. "fushiguro?" you call out in confusion, until a gruffer voice responds, "it's megumi for you, and you can't be this stupid, right? it's not a far walk." he tuts, a certain sass within his tone, but you couldn't gouge his face for a reaction, so you fix the blazer on you around your shoulders. "i'm even giving you warmth while i walk in the cold." you scoff in amusement, "you're so dramatic. it'll still be too cold, let's drive." the boy rolls his eyes, muttering, "i'll get you ice cream."
you scorn with arrogance, "hey, y'know i'm rich, right? i can buy my damn ice cream—"
you find yourself licking an ice cream cone in the early hours of the morning, walking on the street next to your dear classmate, megumi fushiguro. his raven blazer draped over your shoulders, hand stuffed in his pockets as he watched you shuffle in heels, licking at his cone. "you didn't have to do this, you did enough by coming." you chuckle, staring softly at the melting ice cream.
the boy stares at you under the soft everglow of the moonlight, blue bangs falling over his face. he watches you in this view, catching a faint smile painting his lips, glad that you won't be cold wearing his jacket. megumi turned back to his cone, brows raising in surprise at the melting dessert, how long was he staring for?
the teen grumbles, licking the dripping ice cream from the soft cone, "it's the least i can do," he pouts gently, ears reddening as you giggle, "i should at least walk you home." you gaze into his eyes softly, softening up, "your future girlfriend is so lucky." complimenting casually, your lips curve into a smile as you shuffle awkwardly from the structure of the heels.
megumi huffs, "oh so now, you're the future? the gojo's seem to be everywhere now."
you and your stupid hair, he thought. fushiguro megumi swore he hated everyone, that he was done with everybody's bullshit, and that he didn't want to focus on anything else but school. so why did he blurt that out? that to him, he wanted you as his future. the teen watched plenty of romance movies with his friends, who gouged very different emotional reactions compared to his scoffs and eye rolls. so, why does the thought of you with another person rub him the wrong way?.. could there be cockroaches in his stomach? no, there must be a better insect to represent this forsaken feeling.
it wasn't only that, he yearned for more opportunities to see you wearing his clothing, to be the reason he smiled, the reason he'd walk home every night. it was really strange, and megumi didn't believe that this was a curse's doing. even when a rush of blood and nervousness wracked his brain, flourishing into a sweet colour of pink.
"hah, hah?" you tilt your head in everlasting confusion, "i'm what?.." the boy's eyes shoot up, the blush travels from his ears to his face. "what?!" he huffs,
you repeat after him, both cheeks flushed crazily, "what?!"
megumi stammers, "uuh, the ice cream's melting." he points, both of your desserts dripping onto the floor, "right, right! should hurry," you stutter out.
✧ chocsra™
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