#skimping on the editing for now oops

[jaket-fanatic-gvf]

You Belong With Me (Part 2)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Summary: Part 2 of the duology! Read Part 1 here

Warnings: Mentions of sex, otherwise pretty fluffy

A/N: This was later than I said I'd post this (oops), but it's here now! I mildly edited this, but we're just going with it!

Word Count: 5.7k

- - -

You don’t normally dream, but when you do they are extremely vivid. Laying in bed this morning, you can picture the whole thing clearly. Sam laughing. Sam with his arms wrapped around you. Sam’s lips on yours…

Of course, none of it is real. Sam is with Madison and you’re all on your own. Sighing, you reach for your phone to read the time. 9:32 a.m. The football game isn’t until 2:00 today, so you have plenty of time before you need to be in the band hall to pick up your trumpet. 

When you get out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your roommate, Andrea, is already at the table studying with a full mug of coffee next to her. She looks up when you shuffle into the room.

“Hey, babe, the coffee just finished so it’s pipin’ hot.”

“Thanks Annie, awful early in the weekend for homework, no?” You query. 

“Ya, but I have a big test on Monday and I think tomorrow I’ll be too hungover to think properly,” she sighs.

“Going partying?”

“Uh.. ya,” Annie takes a sip of coffee, “I assumed we’d all be going out tonight. I feel like it’s kinda become a tradition.”

That was true. You, Andrea, Sam, and Daniel had been going out pretty much every Saturday this semester; sometimes joined by others, but sometimes just yourselves. Annie knew about your crush on Sam, and has tried to get you to tell Sammy; but that’s just as likely as Annie telling Danny about her crush on him. Which is to say, not likely at all.

“Okay, ya… so, um… I need to tell you about last night.”

“Oh my god!” Annie exclaimed. “You guys admitted your feelings for one another?”

“What? No,” you frowned, “obviously not. Because one, I’d die from embarrassment if he ever found out. Last night proves that. And two, he has a girlfriend, so he doesn’t have feelings for me.”

Annie gives you a skeptical look. “Danny and I don’t think they’re endgame. We want Sam to be happy, and he’s just not happy with her.”

This causes you to raises an eye brow at her. “Danny and I?” You repeat back to Annie. “We?”

“As, like, friends.” Annie tries to hide the fluster, but is extremely unsuccessful. She clears her throat before doubling back down on you. “What happened last night, Y/N? Don’t change the subject.”

“Right… so… I accidentally called Sam pretty.” You cringe as you admit this outloud to your friend. It doesn’t help when Annie throws her hands in the air and squeals.

“Yes! Finally! What happened? I need all of the details, ‘nd don’t skimp on me. Even the ones you think are insignificant!”

You fill her in on the whole night. She squeals again when you tell her that he called you pretty back, but you make sure to add on that he probably felt obligated to return the compliment. She rolls her eyes and has you continue on. Once you finish, she takes a couple seconds to get her thoughts in order.

“He really needs to break up with Madison. I just really don’t like her.”

Sighing, you can only reply, “Well thats not really up to us.”

“I wonder if he has said anything to Danny,” she ponders and starts looking for her phone. You reply quickly.

“You can’t ask him, Annie! He can’t know about how awkward last night was or he’ll never let me live it down. I think he already kind of knows about my crush on Sam.”

“Y/N,” she deadpans, “you can’t be serious.” When you only reply with a confused look she looks up to the sky almost as if she were praying to God. “I think the only person who doesn’t know about your crush on Sam,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “is Sam. Don’t make that face, Y/N, it’s fine. I think the feelings are mutual.”

“Annie, he has a–” you start, but she cuts you off.

“He has a girlfriend, I know, but like I said before, I don’t think they belong together. Things are changing, I feel it in my bones.” she states matter-of-factly.

“Whatever, I don’t think I have the mental capacity to talk about this any longer.” This back and forth reall has drained you. When you look at the time again, you notice that only about 45 minutes has passed. “I’m gonna go shower and then maybe do some studying too.” Annie waves you goodbye and on the way to your bathroom, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: Partying is a go for tonight

You: Annie is studying already so I think she’d kill me if we don’t go

Sam replies instantly.

Sammy: Great! Pregame at our house? I’ll make Dan cook us supper :)

Sammy: You can come over whenever, we’re not going to the game

You are a bit disappointed in that news. Even if you couldn’t sit together, you always sit on the edge of the band, and Sam and Danny try to sit as close to you as they can get so you can still talk to each other. 

You: Okey doke, let us know if you need anything before we come over!

Sammy: 👍

Since it’s the weekend, you take your full shower. Afterwards, you feel like a brand new person and decide to continue on with the self care. You paint your nails for the first time in months and decide that you have enough time to start a new book before you have to go. You quickly get sucked in, and when your alarm goes off signalling that it’s time to leave, you briefly debate bringing the book to the football game before you decide against it.

The game actually goes quicker than you thought it would. It’s probably good that Sam didn’t come to the game because Madison is very obviously flirting with a few members of the football team. She doesn’t even stop when she catches you watching her. She just glares at you and seems to amp it up. Honestly, the nerve of her. When the game its over, you practically sprint home. Annie left you a note on the fridge saying that she already went over to the boys’ house and to go over as soon as you’re ready.

You change out of your school shirt and jean shorts, and opt for a denim shirt, a crop top, and your tride-and-true chuck taylors. Right before leaving, you circle back to grab a sweater because it’ll probably be cold once you leave the party.

You text Sam saying that you are on your way over and in true Sam-fashion, he’s waiting for you on his front porch holding the door open for you. He’s wearing a crewneck sweatshirt from your school and short shorts. God, the short shorts. You’re staring at his thighs as you walk up to him and just hoping that he doesn’t notice. When you get closer to him, you meet his eyes, and you think he could definitely tell you were checking him out from the little smirk he wore, so you decide to play it off.

“Isn’t it a bit late in the season for hoochie mama shorts, Samuel?” you scold him without any real intent.

He throws his head back and barks out a single laugh. “Says you! It’s a cute outfit, Y/N, but it’s not going to keep you warm,” he quips back.

The outfit might not, but the blush from his compliment sure will. You try to laugh it off and reply meekly, “I brought a sweater.”

Sam laughs again. “Love, that sweater is so hole-y that’s it’s practically just a clump of yarn, it’s not gonna do shit,” he replies a bit condescendingly, “A for effort though!” Sam ushers you through the door and you can smell whatever it is is that Dan is cooking, and it smells heavenly. Down the hall, you hear Annie’s laugh and soft music playing. Even though this isn’t your house, this place truly does feel like home.

When you walk into the kitchen, there truly is a sight to behold. Annie and Dan are standing only inches away from each other and you can tell right away that they were about to kiss. You just freeze, but Sam bumps into you, and they immediately notice the movement in the corner of the room and practically leap away from one another like they both got burned. It takes everything in you to not jump for joy right there. You can’t stop the shit-eating grin that comes to your face though.

“Oh I’m sorry, we’re not interrupting, are we?” You ask sweetly…Too sweetly.

Annie looks mortified, but fixes you with a glare and replies just as sweetly, “Oh not at all! Wow, Y/N, you look very pretty.” She makes sure to emphasize the word pretty, and you can take the hint. However, she doesn’t stop there. “Doesn’t she, Sammy?”

Obviously, you start to blush, and it deepens when you look at Sam right as he squeaks out, “Yeah, she always does.” He’s looking a bit rosy now too, so now it’s just the 4 of you standing awkwardly in the kitchen, all blushing in various shades like idiots.

Daniel is the one to break the silence, forever the mediator. “So, supper is ready! Can someone grab plates?” Once the tension is broken, you all quickly set off to do different tasks. Danny and Annie bring the food to the table while you grab the plates and silverware. Sam goes off to grab drinks for everyone. The rest of the meal goes off without a hitch, and as soon as you’re all done eating, the boys clear the table and start setting it up for beer pong.

For the next couple hours, the 4 of you just hang out and slowly get more tipsy as you consume more alcohol. Eventually, the same bottle tequila from last night is getting passed around and you’re all just taking swigs. When you guys leave for the frat houses down the road, you are feeling pretty toasted. You and Annie walk hand in hand down the road and the buys follow behind you.

Since you are feeling pretty good at the moment, you lean into Annie and whisper (although not too quietly), “I’m sorry I interrupted your kiss earlier. It would’ve been a good one.”

Annie shushes you and giggles, “Be quiet, they’re right behind us.”

“But I’m whispering!” you exclaim, most definitely not whispering anymore, and Sam chuckles.

The frat house is crowded when you get there, and this time, you let the boys lead so they can make a path through the crowd. You get drinks and suddenly, Annie and Dan are gone. Sam has his hand on your arm so you two don’t lose eachother in the crowd, and you eventually make your way to one of the couches. There is a couple making out on the other end, but you’ve both seen worse things, so it doesn’t stop you from occupying the left over space. 

You didn’t recognize the song that was playing, and you you about to tell Sam that you weren’t a big fan of it, but he beat you to it.

“They should let me DJ. My music is way better than this.”

Smiling, you reply. “I agree, although I see why they chose this. It’ll be good to dance to later.”

Sam smirks at you. “Oh, it’s a dancing night? You must be pretty drunk already.” Sam taps the tip of your nose with his beer bottle, and if you had been sober, you probably would have been flustered, but Sam was right. You’re pretty drunk.

“Sammy, we drank like a whole bottle of tequila before we got here and then some. Of course it’s dancing night!” You started to get up, but Sam pulled you back down while laughing. You ended up more in his lap than next to him, and when you try to scootch off of him, he wraps his arm around your waist holding you against him securely. Again, if you were sober, you definitely would have reacted differently, but you just settled into Sam’s lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Let me finish my drink first, antsy pants,” he whispers into your hair.

You could have stayed like this forever. Sam smells so good and he’s rubbing his thumb against you. You can also feel his heartbeat and you swear it’s going a bit fast, like he’s nervous. You’d ask him about it if you weren’t so content where you were. Soon enough though, Sam is shaking you from your reverie.

“Come on, love, let’s go dance. I actually know this song!” Sam stands up before you get the chance to move and you’re impressed by how easy it was for him to manuever you around. With Sam holding your hand, you make your way to where the music is the loudest, which is in the basement. You’re happy you put your hair up earlier, because the lower you descend down the stairs, the hotter it becomes. 

“I guess your outfit choice was the right call,” Sam yells back to you. The music is so loud now that even though he’s right in front of you, you can barely hear him. 

“And so are your hoochie mama shorts!” you tease back.

He gives you a big lopsided smile and replies, “Oh but you like these shorts. I already knew they were going to be a good idea.”

You didn’t quite understand that, but you gave him a shrug back anyways. And once you reached the basement, the conversation didn’t matter anyways because you were sucked into the crowd to dance. It seems like you two have been dancing for hours by the time you’re ready to call it a night. You thought you would’ve run back into Danny and Annie at this point, but you never did. It doesn’t really worry you though, some nights were like this, and you guys would get separated. The boys always made sure to never leave one of you alone though.

Sam is watching you, and without you having to say anything, he knows you’re ready to go. He really is perfect, and you have the mind to tell him so. So you do.

“You’re perfect, Sammy,” you stare up at him. It’s pretty dark in the basement, but there ae colorful lights dancing around the room illuminate his face just enough to show you the confusion there.

“What did you say?” Sam yells back. Suddenly, you feel very sober as the realization hits you of what you just said.

“Nothing!” You shout. “I’m ready to go!” You turn around and make your way for the stairs before he can say anything else. You feel his hand find yours and he pulls you to a stop just long enough for him to move around you so he can lead the way. As soon as you step foot outside the house you feel the chill and gasp.

“No! I forgot my sweater at your house!” you whimper. You wish you still felt more of a buzz. Your houses are only a few blocks away, but it’ll be a chilly couple of blocks.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you can take my sweatshirt.” Sam pulls his crewneck off with ease and when you don’t take it right away he adds, “Seriously, I’m still hot from the basement, it feels really nice out here.”

With that confirmation, you take the sweatshirt from his hands and slip it on. It smells so much like him that you have to resist the urge to hold it to your nose and inhale a deep breath.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Of course, love, that’s what friends are for.” He smiles and nudges your shoulder with his arm. 

Feeling like you’ve been doused in cold water, you sober up once again. Friends. You feel embarassed as you remember parts of the night. You definitely weren't being a strictly platonic friend tonight, and if Madison had seen you, she could have been justifyingly pissed. What had gotten into you tonight? What had gotten into Sam? Thinking back on it, the flirting definitely hadn’t been one-sided. If anything, Sam had been progressing it. As much as you didn’t like his girlfriend, you still respect her enough as a person to not want to be a homewrecker. 

The two of you start walking back in silence, but it’s a content one. There is a little park on this block and Sam grabs your arm to redirect you down the path through the park instead of taking the stright way home. When you come up to the first bench he plops down unceremoniously and looks up at the stars.

You sit down on the other side, hugging yourself for warmth, and do the same thing. Since you’re in the city you really can’t see any stars, but you like to pretend you can anyways. The breeze is light tonight, but you can feel it on the backside of your legs through the wire bench and begin to shiver.

“Are you still cold?” Sam rolled his head to the side to look at you. 

“A bit, but I’m fine.” you chatter back.

He looks unamused and opens his arm up, giving you the opportunity to tuck into him for warmth. You wish so badly that you could, but you know it wouldn’t be right to Madison.

“Sam… that’s probably not a good idea. I don’t want Maddie to hate me more than she already does.” He tries to reply, but you keep going. “No, Sam. I’m so sorry for being so flirty with you today; the alcohol really got on top of me I guess.”

He just looks at you for a couple of seconds before saying, almost hesitantly, “Were you only flirting with me because of the alcohol?”

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You reply as quickly as you can, “Yeah, Sam. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have been. Although you were flirting right back, so you must have been feeling it too.”

Sam huffs out a laugh without any humour in it. “Yeah, something like that.”

You wish you could get rid of the awkward tension. What can you say though? ‘Break up with your girlfriend, Sam! I’m in love with you!’ Ya, that wouldn’t go over well. Suddenly, the thought of how to ease the tension rushes to you.

“Oh! Oh my god, what is going on between Andrea and Daniel?!”

It’s like a switch has been flipped and Sam sits up quickly with a huge grin on his face.

“He’s been dying to kiss her for months and I think we ruined it for him. He’s got it bad for her, but don’t tell him I told you that.”

You make the motion of zipping your lips and throwing out the key. “Okay, as long as you don’t tell Annie that I’m telling you about her massive crush on him. This is perfect! I think they’d be great together; I’m always telling her that.” You leave out the part where she always replies saying that you and Sam would be perfect together as well.

“That’s a deal!” Sam grabs your leg just above your knee and gasps, “I wonder if they left us to go kiss somewhere. What if they are already back home? If they’re fucking in my house I’m coming over and sleeping on your couch.”

You cackle and Sam continues on with his theories. He looks more at peace now than he has in weeks. His smile is huge, and you can’t help but think to yourself how easy it would be to be with him. The two of you just click; there isn’t a better way to explain it. You know in your heart that he is the person for you, you’ve known it for years. And who knows, maybe someday he will think so too, but today is not that day.

“Okay Sammy, can we keep walking? I’m getting tired.”

He smiles sweetly at you, “Of course, love.”

The rest of the walk back home was filled with your normal laughter and jokes. It felt good to be back to normal with Sam. When you got closer to your houses, you could see the lights turned on at Sam’s place. He noticed at the same time as you and stopped walking.

“Yeah, we definitely had all of the lights turned off before we left.” He looks down at you with an amused grin. “Right?”

You giggle, nod your head, and continue to walk. “I’m going to come get my sweater.”

“You just want to spy on them!” Sam calls after you which just makes you giggle more. 

“Maybe!” you sing back and bound up the stairs of his porch. You try to peer in the window while Sam is fishing his keys out, but when he turns the handle of his front door, it’s already unlocked. He quickly shushes you before opening the door and immediately closes it again.

At the swiftness of it all, you just stand there startled. Sam turns to you and whispers, “They are definitely fucking.”

“What? How do you even know? Oh my god, are they in the living room?”

Sam is blushing and replies while locking the door, “No, thank god… but Annie’s panties are.”

You couldn’t stop the bark of laughter if you tried. Instead of trying to shush you again, Sam just picks you up and carries you off the porch. 

“Sammy, put me down!” you laugh, and he doesn’t concede until you’re across the street. You get to your door, unlock it, and let Sam inside. 

“I fucking called it!” Sam says giddily. “I’m gonna give Daniel so much shit for this,” he grins lopsidedly and its adorable.

“Well, I’m happy someone is getting lucky tonight,” you reply while continuing to laugh. “I’ll grab you a pillow and some blankets.” You run into your room and grab a pillow off your bed and 2 of your extra blankets. When you return to your living room Sam is already laying on the couch with his eyes closed. You crouch by him and your knees pop in the process, but his eyes remain closed. He’s always been quick to sleep, but you think this has to be a new record.

“Sammy,” you whisper, but he still doesn’t wake up. His hair is falling in his face and you reach to move it away, but stop midway remembering that you shouldn’t be too touchy with him. It’s perfectly friendly to move someone’s hair out of their face though, right? You think if it were Danny or Annie sleeping on your couch here instead of Sam. You would move their hair out of the way for them. With that, you tuck the lock behind Sam’s ear and he sighs contently in his sleep.

You leave the pillow on the ground next to him and lays the blankets over him. Right before you turn to leave, you run your hand over his hair one more time. Someday, you think. Someday maybe he’ll see that you belong together.

- - -

When you wake up the next day, Sam is already gone. You know he has to work on  Sundays, but you thought he’d stay for breakfast. However, when you look at the clock and see that it’s just about noon, you are quick to forgive him. Annie doesn’t come back until later that afternoon which gives almost just enough time to finish your homework. She walks in the room wearing one of Danny’s shirts and you practically scream.

She rolls her eyes at you, but you still catch her subdued grin and the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh, shut up, Y/N. I know for a fact that Sam slept here last night too, so don’t be too cocky. And you’re still wearing his sweatshirt!”

“Ya, but only because he walked into his house to see your underwear on his living room floor!” you scoff back at her, then quickly add, “As they should be, by the way, I’m so happy for you!”

She smiles a knowing smile, for what you have no clue, and replies, “I’m sure your panties didn’t end up in the right place either.”

“What?” you state simply. “I can assure you that they did.”

Annie seems taken back by this statement a bit and takes a moment to reply. “Wait… did you guys not have sex last night?”

“Oh my god, Andrea, no. I don’t like Madison as much, if not more, than anyone else here, but I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Annie looks even more taken back by this statement and just asks blandly, “What?”

“I know I don’t like Maddie, but I would never be a homewrecker. I can’t believe you would think that I would,” you frown and then remember all of the flirting from last night. “Actually, you know, that’s kind of justified. I was so flirty with him yesterday that I actually apologised to him for it.”

“Babe, wait, hold on,” she’s talking over you slightly as you try to explain. “He didn’t tell you?”

That question makes you stop your rambling. “Who didn’t tell me what?”

“Sam?” Annie starts and waits to see if you know where she is going with the statement, but you don’t have a clue. She huffs out a breath.

“Babe, Sam broke up with Madison yesterday.”

The world buzzes for a second and you think you heard her wrong.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sam broke up with Maddie, Y/N. He told Danny and I yesterday while you were at the game. He was supposed to tell you last night.”

There are so many thoughts running around your head at this moment that you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of them. A bit of time must have passed because Annie snaps her fingers in your face to bring you back to the present.

“Did he really not tell you? We even told him that you’d be ecstatic with the news.”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Um…” Andrea cringes a bit and rushes out, “Okay, you can’t be mad because we knew it would work out in your favor, but Danny and I told Sam that you like him.”

“What!” you yell, but she continues on.

“And he was so happy, because he really likes you. I know this for a fact because he told me, Y/N. Listen to me.” Annie grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes, which are still blown wide from everything that she has just admitted to you.

“Sam likes you, Y/N. I think he needs to explain it to you himself, so I won’t say anything else, but please just believe me.” She stares at you until you nod your head. Then she finally lets you go and sits down next to you.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell you. He was so confident when we left for the party. The flirting was going so well.”

As soon as she mentions the flirting you understand. “I told him I was only flirting because of the alcohol.”

“What?”

“I apologized for flirting with him last night and blamed it on having too much to drink. He even asked me to clarify and I said that I wouldn’t have flirted with him if I wasn’t drunk.”

She covers her face with her hands and when she speaks again its muffled. “Oh my god you two are impossible.” She drops her hands and turns to face you. “You know, Danny and I have liked each other for a lot less time and we got it figured out by ourselves.”

You just roll your eyes.

“You need to go over there right now, babe.”

“What? To Sam’s house? He’s at work.”

“No he isn’t. I left when he got back, they were overstaffed so they sent him home.”

 She stands back up and grabs your hands to pull you up too.

“Go, Y/N! I can’t stand this anymore.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You push Annie back down to the couch and she laughs. Your heart is racing, but she’s right. You can’t stand this anymore. Rushing to your room to find your shoes, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: I’m coming over.

When you pass the mirror by the door you give yourself a quick runover. There are wisps of hair falling out of the bun you slept in and there is still a bit of mascara under your eyes.

“Shit.” you say to yourself.

Annie hears you though and states, “Oh stop, he always thinks your pretty. Plus, I can already see him waiting by the door for you. If that doesn’t prove to you right there that he likes you, nothing ever will.”

“Shit, okay.” Your heart is pounding. By the time you cross the road you’re surprised it hasn’t fallen out of your chest. The panic must be evident on your face because when you walk up to Sam he looks concerned.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened?”

How do you start this conversation. To ground yourself, you stare at Sam and focus on his appearance. His hair is pulled back today in a low bun and he is wearing clothes that don’t match at all. You’d think that it would look bad, but he can really pull off outfits like this. Looking back at his face, you can tell that he trimmed his facial hair this morning too. He's frowning slightly and his honey brown eyes are filled with concern.

“Y/N? What hap–”

“I like you,” you blurt out. Wow, okay. Smoothe. 

Admitting this to Sam is like going back to your first middle school crush. Standing on the playground with your hair in pigtails and braces freshly on your teeth. It was the most nerve-wracking moment of your life at that point in time. With so many butterflies in your stomach that it felt like you were going to puke them out. This moment with Sam is exactly like that, although hopefully this boy won’t be grossed out and state with disgust “girls have cooties.” All you can do is take a deep breath and continue on.

“Sam, I have liked you pretty much ever since the day we met, but I thought you’d never feel the same way about me, so I tried to hide that fact. But here’s the thing, I’m sick of pretending like you’re not my absolute favorite person in the world, and I’m tired of hiding my feelings away. 

I feel like I understand you in a way that no else could ever know. I’ve always been in your corner and I’m pretty sure I always will be. I love the way I feel when I’m with you, and I love knowing everything about you. I know your favorite songs, your favorite places to stargaze, your love for your family, your opinions on which types of lettuce taste best, and I know all of your hopes and dreams. And I think I know where you belong, Sam.”

At this point, you meet Sam’s eyes. They are blown wide open and his mouth is a little agape. However, you can see a bit of awe in his eyes which gives you the courage to continue. You look down at your hands and fiddle with your rings because you can't bear the thought of looking into his eyes if he rejects you.

“Sam, you belong with me. I’m really hoping you feel the same way, otherwise please just forget I said any–”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to Sam’s and you see that they are still filled with awe, but also warmth and love and hope.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Sam’s mouth closes in on yours in an instant and the rest of the world melts away. His hands cup the side of your face, and when he starts to pull back you grab the sides of his sweater and hold him closer to you. His tongue ventures into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and you swear nothing has felt more perfect in your life. 

When you finally break apart, both of your lips are a bit swollen and you’re out of breath. Sam is still holding your face and he rubs one of his thumbs over your cheekbone. 

With foreheads pressed together Sam whispers to you, “I have wanted to do that since I first saw you, Y/N. I didn’t think you saw me the same way.”

Giggling, you reply, “Are you kidding? I practically have hearts for eyes when I look at you, Sam. I never even got a hint that you might like me back though.”

“I didn’t want to scare you away. You’re my best friend, Y/N. I was content to have you in my life anyway I could. I just wish we could have figured this out years ago.” He chuckles against your lips as he kisses you sweetly once again.

Across the road you hear your door open. “Get a room!” Annie yells and then cackles and starts walking across the road. Right then, Dan walks out his front door.

“Annie!” He scolds. “We were going to give them space!”

She waves her hands in a dismissing motion as she bounds up the steps of the porch and crashes into Danny’s arms. He puts one over her shoulder and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Oh please, if they wanted personal space they shouldn’t have been making out on the front porch.”

Sam moves behind you while she talks and wraps his arms around your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder in the process. Hoping this is a new normal, you tilt your head to the side to nestle up against Sam’s. This time when you breathe in his cologne, you take the full opportunity to bask in it.

He grabs the material of the sweatshirt you have on and you can feel his smile take place on your shoulder. "You look cute in my clothes."

"I'm glad you think so because I'm going to keep this," you tease and he lets out a single breathy laugh.

“So,” Annie interrupts and shoots you both a wide smile before asking, “Double date tonight?”

[wahbegan]

Desecration (for anon)

All right here it is I ended up getting so many ideas of ways to go with the plot that the dirt under the nails ended up being more of a recurring thing than a focal point but whatever enjoy

Here’s the smell of blood, still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.

-Macbeth, Act V: Scene I

Laßt die todten ruhen.

-Ernst Raupach

Lana was trying to get a promising femur fully unearthed when she heard Dani chime in behind her: “You know, this place is what J.K. Rowling named Harry Potter after. Well, I mean, you know, not THIS place, but just Potter’s Fields in general, I guess.”

“Yeah, that is so totally fucking fascinating, are you gonna come help me with this or what?”

Dani obediently jumped in the grave beside her, though grave was a bit of a loose term. Most of the burial sites around here were above-ground, and for good reason. When the flood waters had come, this place had been torn up and churned into a mass of mud, sink holes, and exposed bones. Which made it perfect.

Who would notice a few missing? It wasn’t like the corpses would feel the absence.

Lana and her sister were grave-robbers by trade, though they would never refer to themselves as such when asked. They were witches in a marketable sort of way, selling morbid curiosities to like-minded spirits and using them to adorn their apartment.

It was spiritual in a sense. It was an active deed of rebellion against the old religions and ways of thought that put these people in the dirt and forgot about them. It was a connection to the Earth and mortality...and it was a bit of fun, besides. Nobody robs graves because bones look cool.

But it helps.

Aesthetic witches, they would call themselves when making a sale. Profaning the sacred for fun and profit. But not the sacred to them. That’s what made it okay. These bones were sacred to a different time, a different religion. An oppressive artifact from dark times past that hated women and gay people.

In short, these were only sacred to the enemy. And besides that, just bones. It was Dani and Lana’s full belief that graveyards exist for the vain conceit of the living. An idiotic practice. Nobody living benefit from the dead staying in the dirt. Digging them up, however...

These particular bones’ rest had already been fairly thoroughly upset by nature, which seemed like a sign if there ever was one. The storm revealed the bones, and the moon herself smiled down and illuminated them, leading them surely and steadily to uncover more of the skeleton the femur belonged to. They’d become desensitized to the ghoulish nature of their work, the almost comical air of Gothic horror that surrounded them. In truth, it was nights like this they deliberately sought out to go gathering materials to turn into geode holders.

“Fucking Hell, that’s part of a spine. Hip bone, femur, spine...this guy’s looking great! Please have an intact skull, please have an intact skull...”

Dani was working farther up, uncovering smashed ribs and bits of sternum. “Nothing yet, Anal.” 

The pet name had always incensed her, mainly because she couldn’t think of a good enough comeback. Dani’s a hard name to make fun of. Dandy? Danny boy? She usually just settled on kid, despite only being 3 years older.

“Then shut your ass up and dig more, kid. Any of those ribs look good? Got a shoulderblade?”

“No, the femur looks like the best part, maybe the hip bone. The rest of him is all smashed to shit. Kinda looks like...”

She paused and frowned a bit, her mind seeming to drift off to do its own thing somewhere else.

Lana crouch-walked over to her and gave her a playful shove to bring her back to herself. “Like he got fucked up, yeah, probably was. Here, I’ll do this end, you just work on getting that hip bone the rest of the way out.”

Dani obeyed quietly and continued to work in silence. Lana was too focused to really notice how strange that was until later.

Right now, she was focused on prying up the thick, sticky Earth where she felt this guy’s skull had to be. It was hard work, grime working its way into the lines of her hand and under her fingernails. She kept prying and pulling at roots, certain it had to be there. 

This is right where it should be if the rest of his skeleton is here, there even seemed to be a bulge or a change in consistency of the Earth like it was packed in, and-

As she had clawed at the latest fistful of dirt, her fingernails had scraped down bone. It was an unpleasant sensation, and her nerves jangled a bit. She had to pull her hand out of the dirt and shake the unpleasant feeling out of it, but the look on her face was triumphant as she turned to look at her sister.

“Guess what I got, biiiitch?”

Dani looked up, still seeming in a bit of a daze. She had wrestled the man’s pelvic girdle out of the ground and was cleaning it off in her lap. “Huh?”

“The skull, dumbass!”

Dani returned to her usual self a bit, sarcastically craning her head to look around Lana and frowning. “I don’t see any skull...”

“Oh, fuck off, I’m working on it.”

It took several more minutes to get the thing out of the ground. It felt unusual: the wrong shape, the wrong texture. It was definitely a skull, but...

When she finally pulled it free, she understood. She held it in both hands, just staring at it in dumbfounded awe for a moment. Whoever this was, or had been, was hideously deformed. One eye socket was intact and full of thick dirt, but on the other side there was no depression at all. One nasal cavity was crooked, looking like it was about to collapse in on itself. 

But the most remarkable thing were the growths. Rough, almost tumorous growths of bone protruded around the back left quarter of the skull, running up to the skullcap and around the left side of the face almost to the missing eye. Overall they seemed to form one irregular mass, giving the head a lopsided, half-sunken appearance. They were coarse, almost jagged to the touch, overlapping and stacking on each other like some kind of plant or fungal bloom. Like coral.

Then she noticed the scoring. Lines on the bone. Not natural ones. Incisions cut into it. Someone had sliced this man’s face to pieces. As she turned it in her hands, she saw the probable cause of death: a hole straight through the back of the cranium, almost perfectly square. A stake hammered through it, most likely.

Lana felt like it was Christmas morning.

She was still staring in silence as Dani turned over the pelvis and mused behind her. “Hmm...think it’s a woman, actually.” Dani had dreams of being a forensic anthropologist that were on the back burner for now. Mainly because it was exactly what she did now, but she’d be celebrated instead of given strange looks and possibly arrested.

“Fuck that. Come look at this.”

“Fuck that?! Well, excuse me for trying to be-woah. Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit.”

They both stared in measured awe for a moment before grinning at each other as Dani threw her arm around Lana’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

“This is our Golden Ticket, Dan. I can feel it.”

In the end, they only took the skull home with them. They left the ribs, hips, and leg where they lay in the mud.

Neither of them noticed how dark it had gotten. The moon had gone out on them.

Dani sat cross-legged on their rolling chair, scrolling through articles on her laptop, which a decal helpfully informed all and sundry was located on Elm Street. Lana was still cleaning the skull slowly, meticulously. It was hard work, and she didn’t want to put even one nick on the thing. 

“God damn it, wish we had some of those beetles. You find anything yet?”

“Shhh, shut up Anal, I’m working here.”

Lana rolled her eyes, even as she smiled a bit. She put it down to the fact that she was the younger of the two, but Dani seemed to get a little too into the stuff. She took it seriously in a way Lana just didn’t, couldn’t. She’d outgrown that phase. She knew Dani would too, eventually, wouldn’t pore over articles online so meticulously trying to figure out who it was they dug up, the exact history and superstition behind all their morbid little artifacts. The thought almost made her sad. She really could be a great Forensic Anthropologist if that’s what she wanted.

She put the brush and pick down and looked at her hands absently while she waited for the kid to come back with something interesting. They were almost black, filth-encrusted. Her skin was darkened in general, but it was the lines of her hands and fingerprints that the grave soil really threw into sharp relief. And her fingernails. Under the tips, in her cuticles...she hadn’t thought she’d gotten that much dirt on her hands while she dug.

“God, my hands are fucking filthy.”

Dani didn’t look up. “You know, a very long time ago, people invented this wonderful thing called soap, and if you mix it with water, do you know what happens? It’s really amazing.”

Lana made as if to punch her and then walked to the bathroom sink and started scrubbing.

The water going down the sink was almost black. Must have been the rain. She made a mental note to avoid digging in the mud in the future. The water ran translucent black, but somehow she STILL wasn’t getting it-

“Hey, get in here! I think I got something.”

She ran out of the bathroom so fast that she barely dried her hands, and didn’t see the dark stains left behind on the towels. 

“All right, so,” Dani was thrilled enough with her discovery she didn’t even wait for Lana to say anything or get all the way over to her, she just started dumping. She was like that. “I haven’t got a name, but I was looking at old medical cases involving disfigurement or deformity. Turns out, first of all, I was right. It was a woman. See? I don’t even need no fucking doctorate! Anyway, I think this is our gal.”

The old monochrome photograph showed the side of a tent, presumably that of a travelling freak show. There was a bearded woman, conjoined twins, a little man, a man covered in thick fur-like hair...and on the far right, sitting in a chair, a black woman with one eye, a collapsing nose, and a swollen, lopsided head. 

She had no hair on the deformed side, and the scalp looked rough and uneven in texture. From the photograph, it was clear her arms and the lower half of at least one leg were swollen and malformed as well.

“So THAT is a travelling sideshow that moved throughout the South at the end of the 19th Century. Apparently, her deformity started out relatively minor, but as she grew, her bones kept...” Dani looked away from the screen and nodded at the skull. “Doing that. I think it’s called...ossification? Atypical osseous growth? I’m not exactly sure. Anyway, like I said, her name’s not listed, but she was apparently something of an object of fascination to a white surgeon who lived right around here, one...Robert Ender, who wrote a first-hand account of his research into her affliction, but it’s behind a fucking paywall. Of course. Anyway, in 1893, says he paid the circus owner a lot of money for...her?”

“For her? What do you mean ‘for’ her?”

Dani was squinting at the screen, still reading. “Hold on, I don’t know, to study or something? Aw, what if they got married, wouldn’t that be-”

“What? Kid?”

Dani’s eyes looked different, the excited light had gone out of them. She suddenly seemed much older than she was, looked tired. Tired and a bit sick. She continued reading in a monotone voice. “Ender paid the circus owner an enormous amount of money to study her affliction. Medical experimentation on black women was on the wane since the end of slavery, but since she was a side show performer, and this WAS the deep-ass South...” she trailed off for a moment before continuing.

“He made several surgical incisions into her head and face and vivisected her. She eventually died during a trepanation. There was a minor scandal, but charges were never pressed and Dr. Ender kept his position in society. Her body was buried nameless in the Potter’s Field.” She cast her eyes down. “That’s what I saw...you know, in the ribs. It looked like they had been cut one by one. By shears, you know? Peeled back.”

There was silence between them for a moment before Lana grinned and patted her sister on the back. “Jesus, great job kid! That’s...incredibly fucked up, but look at us! We got a minor celebrity here. We can put her story everywhere. I’m not sure I want to sell her.”

Dani cringed at the words “sell her.” She chewed her lip for a moment in a way Lana had come to know well over the years. It was her designated “i’m going to say something that will upset you and trying to pick my words carefully” face.

“Lana...I don’t think I’m comfortable with this.”

“What are you talking about?!” Lana laughed a bit, still not taking her very seriously. “You’re the one who wants to go pro with grave-robbing, what’s the problem?”

“We shouldn’t keep it.”

“All right, I mean, if you REALLY want we can sell it, it just seems like a was-”

“That’s not what I mean.” She paused again, then looked Lana in the eyes for the first time. “We should put it back.”

“What?! Put it back? What, you think her ghost is coming for us?”

“You’re not listening!” her voice had a force in it that it almost never contained, and Lana was taken aback. “I’m not scared of it. It’s just so...sad.”

“Honey,” Lana put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “She’s already dead. There’s nothing we can do. But we can tell her story! We can make something out of her death, right?”

“We don’t even know her name.”

Lana stared at the skull, considering for a moment. “What about...Octavia?”

Dani cocked her eyebrow, but made no response. 

“Yeah, Octavia! That’s a good name, right? Hey, Octavia,” Lana turned towards the skull on the counter with a friendly wave. “You cool if we take some pictures of you and put them on the internet? Not that you know what that IS, but...” she turned back to Dani, expecting a begrudging smile. There wasn’t one.

She just shook her head slowly, then looked over at the hand Lana still had on her shoulder. “Jesus, woman, I thought you washed your hands.”

Lana herself took a good look at them for the first time since she’d come out of the bathroom. If anything, they looked dirtier. She glanced under her nails to see a thick black line of accumulated dirt. “I did! I don’t know why this dirt’s so stubborn. Wait here,” she sighed and returned to the bathroom.

As she scrubbed, watching black dirt flow down the drain, she heard Dani get up and move around. “Hey, I’m going out for cigarettes. You want anything?” 

Lana poked her head around the doorframe. “I thought you were quitting!”

Dani just shrugged and continued out the door.

It made her a bit angry, in all honesty. The kid was overreacting, which wasn’t that unusual for her. They had more than one fight in the past caused by Dani being too sensitive about strange things. But this was different. It was always petty shit, big dramatic blow-outs of the kind that siblings had, but that always blew over when they admitted they were both being assholes.

But Dani had looked at her with real reproach. With something accusatory in her eyes. She thought it was wrong. She thought Lana was a bad person. 

The black kept flowing down the drain, and Lana scrubbed her hands harder. “Fucking thing...”

It wasn’t like none of the bones they’d taken before hadn’t been from people who died badly or had bad lives, was it? They were dead now. That was one thing the two had always agreed on. They were dead, and the dead have no use for their bodies. 

She looked at her hands, which felt raw. Dirty as ever. She grabbed a towel and scrubbed it over her hands and fingers. By the end, it was badly stained, the individual fibers clotting together. 

But her hands were dirty. And there was that black under her fingernails.

“God DAMN it, how...” Lana felt a rush and a drop in her stomach, like she’d just fallen off a cliff. Something was wrong.

She was at the desk now, fumbling through implements, grabbing the pick she’d been cleaning the skull with to take it to her nails. She picked it up and stared.

The skull was dirty again. More than dirty. Its eye was packed with soil, just as it was when she first found it. 

She stared, clutching the pick in her nerveless hands. In a moment the shock would wear off and she would truly panic, but for now, her brain was still trying to make some kind of rational sense of it, trying to parse what it was seeing. In a sort of faraway daze, she noticed a furtive movement under where the skull rested. She was dimly aware she was going to regret turning it over, but that didn’t mean she could stop herself.

A massive Devil’s Coach Horse scuttled out, raising its abdomen in a threat display and opening and closing its jagged mandibles at her. The panic broke forth.

Lana screamed and back-handed the thing, trying to brush it off the desk. It flew directly at her face, buzzing. She flailed and swatted blindly around her head in a panic, only to receive a painful pinching sensation in her forearm. It had sunk its jaws into her flesh and was holding there tightly.

She dropped the skull. She could punch herself in the face for doing it, always treated her bones better than that, would never risk breaking it, but it was a reflex. She dropped it and swatted at the horrible black beetle, only to make contact with her own skin.

The buzzing had stopped. The beetle was gone. So, too, was the dirt. The skull lay innocently on the floor, cleaned off, staring at her.

She stood there for a moment, breathing raggedly, hands shaking. “I’ve lost my fucking mind. I’ve gone...and lost...my fucking mind.”

She looked at her shaking hands intently. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She shook her head, bit her tongue and took deep breaths. But after all, the dirt was still there. The one thing that hadn’t left.

She lifted her pick up again off the floor. She didn’t dare touch the skull. She worked it under the crescent of her fingernails, scraping and tugging at the accumulated filth. It came free easily enough, she noticed. There was plenty of it on the tip of the pick and raining down on the floor. The problem was it kept coming back. She could see it now. As she pulled one line of dirt from beneath her nail, another seemed to seep out and take its place.

Jesus Christ, where was it all coming from?

She turned the sink on high, as hot as it would go, and got her pocket knife. She wasn’t thinking rationally, it was just animal panic and desperation to get the damned dirt out. She worked the blade under her nail until it flared with red hot pain. 

She worked through her other nails, digging and stabbing underneath, biting down to keep from crying out as more and more dirt came out. Black was running down her fingers now, a translucent black like the dirty water going down the drain.

There was a source, there had to be a source.

“Fuck it.” Lana growled and wrenched a nail free, then another. She started screaming again as she saw what was underneath. There was no blood, no exposed bed of nerves. Just more dirt. Black powder. She dug at the miniature dirt beds in her fingertips with the knifepoint, prying more and more loose before giving up, throwing it down on the floor in frustration. 

She wrung her hands under the water, trying to get it out, trying to get anything out at all. It was helpless, the water just kept flowing black, there was nothing but dirt underneath her skin and her nails. The pain was unbearable. She felt light-headed, on the verge of passing out, but she couldn’t stop. Not now.

Dani was only gone for about 15 minutes, but was already too late. There was blood everywhere. Running down the sink to the floor, on the mirror, on the knife. The sink was full of nails, and the water that ran past them down the drain was pink. Lana was slumped across the far wall of the bathroom, barely conscious. There was no skin left on her hands. She had scrubbed it off.

Dani didn’t ask her any questions. Not as she drove her to the hospital, not when she regained her consciousness. Not ever. What she did was take her in, leave her with the doctors, and drive straight back to the Potter’s Field. 

What she did was put the skull back exactly where she found it, and say a tearful apology, and beg for mercy for her sister.

She told Lana later, as she was visiting her in the mental hospital she’d been referred to. She said it unprompted. Worded it gently, like she didn’t suspect damn well what had happened. “Hey, Anal.” She rested her hand on top of the gauze covering her older sister’s. “I, um...look, don’t be mad, but I got rid of that skull while you were recovering. It...I really wasn’t comfortable with it, you know, and I just thought that-”

“Thank you.” Lana’s smile was weak, but real. “I’m sorry.”

It was almost the last time they ever spoke of it. Once, as Lana caught Dani glancing forlornly at the gloves she had taken to wearing, the subject came up again.

“It’s not your fault, kid. You know that.”

“I stormed out on you because I was upset. That was dumb.”

“Yeah, well, if I’d listened to you...you know. I was just...excited. Felt like we found something real, you know?”

Dani let out a bitter laugh. “We did. Lana? Do you ever wish we did tell her story?”

Lana considered it for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I think, maybe...maybe it wasn’t our story to tell.”

[roses-ruby]

Come home to me...Darling

Jimin x Female Reader (+ Jungkook & Mystery Member)

Ao3 Link

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Genre: Cheating!AU, angst, smut (masturbation and fingering, both female), fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Infidelity, Cursing, Sad, Low self esteem, Mentions of a panic attack, Jimin’s a jerk :(

Word Count: 29,555

Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

Tag: @some-random-stranger-007​

A/N: it is finally out now I can go yeet myself into the lake of fire never to return. Can you believe i almost lost this? ahahahaha the level of clownery. Anyway I hate it, so let me know what you think of it. Thank you to @meuurtrierr​ it wouldn’t be possible without her. Edited but I know I missed some shit, also I skimped on the warnings cuz i dont remember what else skskssk do let me know babes mwah Enjoy!

Mondays are the worst.

It’s not enough that you needed to skim through the employee evaluation files in the next 2 hours, but a grueling headache had somehow found a way to attach itself into your brain. Even blinking was painful. You weren’t able to do anything but stare at your desk with little to no energy present in your build. There was a dull lull in the room, and you felt suffocated in your stuffy office. When one of the open file’s papers flutters in front of you is when you manage to snap out of dreamland. Peeking at the desk right outside your office, you let out a sigh of relief at finding the space empty. Finally, you could get up and do something about this headache as well as pour some caffeine into your body.

Usually Yura would gleefully grab it for you, but you felt awkward around her since that day and hadn’t asked anything of her since. It was a bit silly, you don’t know why you were avoiding her exactly. Most likely it was due to not trying out her therapist suggestion yet. But it wasn’t like she was forcing you and it also wasn’t that you didn’t want to go…you were just unsure. You were scared. An unfamiliar person, poking and prodding at you – at your life. Finding and pulling out all the faults in you like weed. Judging you. Your habit of overthinking had already made you fit irrational scenarios inside your head of your ‘sessions’ and how awful they would end up being.

This irrationality also embarrassed you and led you into avoiding Yura.

In a nimble pace, you quickly make your way into the center office filled with cubicles. From there you speedily step your way into the breakroom. Thankfully, it was also empty. It wasn’t like coming here wasn’t unusual for you – you had been in here before you were promoted, albeit just a bit. You weren’t the most extroverted person, and people seemed to always be creating some forms of conversation in here. Which scared you into staying in your cubicle until certain timestamps where you found it vacant. Sighing, you walk to the coffee maker in the corner of the room to find it barren, and you heave a groan as you gather your ingredients for coffee. You didn’t want to stay here in case of running into someone, but life was making everything harder for you as usual. Watching as the coffee hits the pot in the coffee maker, you think back to last night.  

Jimin never made it back home throughout that whole day. That had become a usual occurrence, but it really hit you hard this time because you were aching to sort things out after the clash you both faced. There was a restless ache in your stomach, which you’re sure was the cause in you turning sick today. Last night you had caught the exact moment Jimin figured out that you knew about him and her, his aura completely morphing into something between docile and tense. After he left, you couldn’t sleep for hours, tossing and turning and just waiting for him to come home. The scene kept replaying in your mind and you kept analyzing certain aspects, wishing you had said something better or acted in a compromising manner rather than driving him away. But then he never showed up and you were too afraid to call him back to you. If you went to voicemail yet again, you felt you would go insane.

Though you pondered where he was with exhausted efforts, a dreadful thought told you that you already knew, you just didn’t want to accept it. You hoped it wasn’t true. That he wouldn’t be with Tina – not after last night. Maybe…he was crashing at Jin’s place? …Wait, why didn’t you think of him sooner? Jin, his best friend since he moved to the city, would know where he is! Friends are considered confidantes, aren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to inquire s few things from Jin, he was always a sweet man. But you didn’t want to force Jimin back to you or anything of the sort, you just wanted to know if he was ok. Hopefully he’ll realize how much you need him, hopefully he’ll come back home to you on his own accord. You were going to give him some time to think, then he’ll surely be back by that day, right?

Hopefully.

As you pour the coffee into your mug, the door creeks open and a citrusy cologne fills the air which pulls you out of your thoughts as you stiffen. Great. Carefully, you turn to see the culprit to be a tall man yawning loudly and stretching his arms while walking towards you. It alarms you that he’s moving straight at you without even realizing, but you don’t make an effort to move. Which ends up with him crashing into you slightly-

“Oh, whoa,” He says as his eyes fly open and he holds onto the small of your back with his warm hand, “Sorry about that, didn’t notice anyone was here!”

No kidding.

Now that he wasn’t scrunching up his expression, you could properly take in his appearance. He had such a soft and youthful face, big doe eyes that seemed to be lit with stars. Everything about him was so round, his nose, his cheeks, his small mouth. Jet black hair covered his forehead and compared to his boyish features, the muscles protruding from his white button up were anything but soft. You felt bad for his shirt, which was straining to hold itself together. There was a small scar on his left cheek, yet another mark amplifying his young features. He seemed to be observing you as well, his eyes a tad bit larger and his hand still on your back.

You clear your throat and straighten your back, looking away from him to the floor.

Breaking out of his daze he retracts his hand immediately, “Oh, sorry!”

That’s when he notices the mug in your hand, then turning to the coffee maker he beams,

“Hey, did you make a fresh brew? That’s awesome, Thanks!”

“It’s no problem.” You say in a small voice

At the moment you desired no conversation with anyone. It felt as if once the tiniest amount of sympathy is thrown in your direction, you become a puddle of pudding into the persons hand. Instead, what you really wanted to do was to stop feeling so weak. Stop relying on them to hold you together, because people leave. Jimin left. Left you to melt into the ground without looking back.  

Right now, you just wanted to be left alone.

But the boy in front of you did not seem to be good at detecting facial cues.  

“Umm…do you work here?” He asks you, and you give him a confused look, “I-I mean, I’ve never seen you around…but it must be because I just started here last week, I’m a new recruit.”

Yura mentioned something about that, but you never actually got a chance to look through the profiles since the Jimin fiasco.

“Is that it?” He asks again, “Are you a new recruit as well?”

“Um...” You wondered how to properly tell the boy that you were his boss. The reason he hasn’t seen you before is because you rarely come out of your office. Unless there’s a big meeting.

“Then you must’ve started today, huh?” He says, a smile on his face displaying his teeth…his bunny teeth. Adorable. “We’re in the same boat then! If you ever need anything, just let me know!”

The expression on him was so pleased, you didn’t have the heart to decline. Didn’t have the heart to walk away or disregard him. So, you just stood there as he introduced himself.

“My name’s Jungkook by the way.”

“_-___.” You respond shyly

“___,” He repeats to himself, scratching the back of his head, “That’s a beautiful name.” He gives you a look that has you blushing as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’  

It was so natural then.

You don’t know how it happened, but you were suddenly thrown into a conversation with your company’s most enthusiastic employee, Jeon Jungkook. At first, you were worried a bit by how young he looks, yet it turned out he was only two years younger than you – and he refused to believe you were older, the brat. He stood there explaining how things work around the office, telling you tall tales about some of the ‘haunted’ conference rooms and scary coworkers to which you were enthralled by, despite being here way longer than him. You found yourself giggling every time he exaggerated a story with his words or eyes.

“So ___, how do you like it here so far?”

“It’s nice,” You respond vaguely, taking another sip of your coffee, “How about you?”

“They really work you to the bone! But I like it, they’re fair with the salary and the donuts here are always so good.” Jungkook beams widely while reaching over to grab one of the chocolate glazed donuts off from the small white box next to the coffee maker.

“Heard the CEO’s batshit though” He says with a mouthful

At that you let out a snort – almost spilling some of your coffee from your mouth, which leads you into covering it with your hand and coughing. It was true, she was a little strange.

“Oops.” Jungkook responds with a mischievous glint in his eye. In return you squint your eyes at him in mock anger as you let out your last cough. He reaches over again and grabs another donut from the box. You wish he would stop doing that, his arm radiated a lot of heat and you were going crazy trying to ignore his scent. Pulling out a second donut, this one with pink frosting and dark red glaze decorated in a zig-zag pattern, he hands it out to you.

“Here,” He says with his bunny teeth displayed.

You give it a long stare before taking it, “Thank you.”

“It’s a peace offering.”

“I see.” You eye the sugary dough and the colorful star sprinkles sticking into the frosting, “Interesting choice.”

“It’s cause that one was pretty.” He pouts

“You gave me a donut because you found it pretty?” You raise an eyebrow at him

Scoffing at your tone, he leans into the countertop and fold his arms, displaying his biceps up in your face. Damn those arms. “And what about it.”

“Nothing,” you giggle, “Just that normal people would give pretty flowers or pretty letters and not…fried dough.”

Jungkook turns silent at that, turning his face toward the ceiling as if in thought. He was making an odd expression, one with his eyebrows drawn in and lips pulled straight, you wondered if this was normally how his face was while thinking. It was kind of funny. But also, very cute.

“You’re right.” He suddenly says

“Hmm?”

“I should get you flowers.”

“…And where would you find flowers in an industrial urban structure?”

To this he removes himself off the counter and turns to you, his height and muscles intimidated you a bit. He was definitely taller than Jimin. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe it is.” You say in a low voice, maintaining direct eye contact

“Alright then ___, we may be new here (you internally cringe as he says this) but I bet you I can find you some pretty flowers lurking about in this stale glass cube of a building.”

You laugh at how serious he got – the fiery glint in his eyes, and raise out a hand, “And I bet you won’t!”

Being here three years had taught you quite a lot about this location. The lower floors contained a computer enterprise, and the upper floors remained a basic accounting firm. Grass surrounding the building was patchy and dry thanks to the summer heat. Also, your CEO had a strict pollen allergy, so keeping things like vases to fill with freshly cut daisies in or around the residence was impossible. There was no way he would was going to find any flowers here. It was a bit sad how much you knew about this place, being the only other dwelling you hung out in other than your home. But on the bright side, you were totally gonna win this bet.

“What do I get if I win?” You question as he shakes your hand. Heat immediately shoots down your spine at his touch and you block yourself from shivering by clenching your teeth…he had a very firm grip.

“I’ll be your servant for a week.” He pipes making you raise your brows as you shape your mouth into an ‘o.’ “And what If I win?”

“Hmm…” You hadn’t thought of that because you didn’t think there was any way he could.

“How about if I win, I get your number?”

…

Huh?

Tilting your head, you scrunch your brows. “…Why would you want my number?”  

That confused you.

He gave you a wide eye stare. Did you really just say that? Perhaps you were playing hard to get? Yes…that must be it. No need to feel embarrassed. She didn’t reject you he thinks abashed. While you on the other hand were clueless to his fretful appearance.

“…Um.” Jungkook clears his throat looking down at his shoes. Wait…were Timblands allowed in the uniform? “Just cause.” He mumbles

You dwell on it for a second. You’ve never gave your number to a guy before. It can’t hurt, right? Besides he wasn’t going to win anyway.

“Well, alright.”

He grins at your approval, and you giggle in return. Was he the cutest man, or what?

“You know…you’re very pretty when you laugh.” He says abruptly and that makes you completely drop your mouth. His face flushes and that’s when you notice he still had your hand in his. The sudden awareness makes you pull it back at lightning speed. You try to speak again, but somehow the sound was knocked out of you and the room feels very, very, very, very warm for some reason.  

“I- I should prob-” You point over your shoulder, slowly backing away from the doe-eyed man. “I have work.”

“A-alright…” He scratches the back of his head again. A habit you suppose. “See you around.”

“Yes.” Was the last thing you said before practically sprinting out of the breakroom.

You don’t know how long you spent chatting with Jungkook, but you came back to your office on sore legs. Sitting down on the revolving chair, you spin around a bit feeling bizarrely giddy inside, headache completely forgotten and newly revitalized. As you remember his red cheeks you pull up your arms in front of you. Chills…you had chills. What. Was. That.

Even though your legs hurt from standing, you don’t regret it one bit.  

That was…strange. Never had you been one for conversations, especially not with the other sex. Your husband didn’t seem to like it when you were chatting with another man, so you never tried to. Yet Jungkook…why did you enjoy being around him so much?  

It felt like you were back in high school, talking with the class president you had a huge crush on. Or like the guy from 5th grade who gave you a band aid. And even when you first met Jimin. You’re not sure, but you do know this is the first time in years where you became so smitten with someone so quickly. Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air, you really liked him.

Wait, what?

As soon as you process the weight of your thoughts, you immediately sit up in your chair. No, you couldn’t just have thought of such, right?

You…you were a married woman! Holding up your hand, you stare at your wedding ring while guilt crawls up your spine. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be doing this your conscious spoke. Not when your married life was in shambles. Is this who you were? Though, when you really think about it, it wasn’t like you did anything, you were just talking. So why did you feel so bad? Bringing your hand to your chest, you hold onto your ring finger with your other hand and close your eyes. Jimin appears before you, a light smile on his handsome face.

Your heart clenches.

“-ght.”

Just then, you register someone’s voice outside your office, breaking you from your daze. You stiffen, recognizing the soft laughter of your beloved secretary. She must have returned from her lunch break.

These days you had begun to pay Yura special attention.  

It was due to her confession, knowing that she dealt with so much but still managed to be happy – genuinely happy – made you feel…curious. You wanted to understand how she did it, how she managed to deal with life in a better way. And then maybe, just maybe, you could do it too.

Yes, that should be a rational clarification of why you were creeping up to the entrance like a stalker. Calmly stepping up to the see-through door, you hide behind the solid wall to the right of it, peeping your head out to spot Yura. You honestly don’t know what you were wanting to accomplish, but you had been getting yourself involved in a lot of strange situations recently, so it was better not to question it.

She had her back facing you, thankfully, or this would have been even more embarrassing. You stretch your neck out as much as you could, feet planted firmly on the hidden side of the wall. Watching as she stood beyond her desk casually, her phone to her ear while she conversed gently with someone on the other line.

“I’ll pick up some Chinese tonight- no not that one I hate it!” She laughed. “Seriously babe we’ve had that four nights in a row now…okay, okay we had tempura for a whole month because of me I know that!”

It was easy to tell she was talking to her boyfriend. It was just general, everyday stuff but you couldn’t help but feel envious. Yura sounded so content, her boyfriend sounded like he loved her. That was all you’ve ever wanted. How come you’ve never had that?

A grimace falls upon your face. Just what were you doing trying to spy on your secretary? When did you become so pathetic? There was no secret, and if there was, she has told you of it already. The truth was, you were stubborn, unwilling to change from the old ways as if your conservatism has ever been of any help to you. With a silent sigh, you were about to walk back to your desk when you heard him tell her ‘I love you.’  

In return she giggled, “I know~ See you tonight!”

You stood there stagnant for a bit. After a moment, you smiled, although there was no sign of joy on your face. Really…you were really pathetic.

Once you were at your desk, you eye your bag on the side of your chair’s leg before you pick it up, digging through it until you find what you were searching for. The piece of paper with the number was still in the same state as when she first gave it to you. Albeit crumpled. wouldn’t it have been hard for her to gather up the courage to say something you, her boss, could wrongly take offense over? Which you almost did. You respect her courage, her dedication and determination. When she first joined, you thought she was like you.

You were wrong.

She was stronger than you had ever been.

And instead of dwelling in that bitter pool of jealously you’ve drowned in with so many other women, you respected her. You wanted to learn from her and Irene and any woman in your life that had fought their battles with determination. It was like you said before, you had been getting yourself into strange circumstances lately, so why not this too? Who was here to stop you? Who was here to feel pity for you?

All you wanted was to be happy once again. Just once more.  

You owed it to yourself

Tick…tock…tick…tock…

You sat at the edge of your red seat with your palms holding onto your knees. Uneasiness found a way to penetrate your bones and you sensed a thin layer of perspiration on your hairline as you watch the clock ticking down until your dreaded deadline.

There was a lady situated underneath the clock, an elder woman by maybe a decade. She had soft wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, a bun high on top her head and bright red lipstick on her thin lips. Clacking away at her key board, she would occasionally furrow her brows in concentration at something she was looking at on her computer screen or smile at you if you made eye contact. Didn’t do much to ease your nerves but it still felt nice. The lady reminded you of yourself, and you speculate if this is how people saw you when you were at work.

It had been a couple of days until you managed to call an appointment for a therapy session. The isolation ate away at you after Jimin had been missing for the third day. You desperately wanted to talk to someone about your problems, but Irene was out of town, your husband absent, and you were too shy to seek out Yoongi. Instead of pushing your complications onto others, you thought it was finally time to call in some professional effort. The lady on the phone had been really nice and you were able to set an appointment up fairly quickly. Now you were just sitting here, in the monotone lounge area waiting for the therapist to arrive.

There was quite a bit of research you did beforehand. Turns out, different therapists professionalize different problems. Cognitive therapist help deal with bad thoughts and unclutter daily habits. Family-oriented systems therapist dealt with family related issues. Personal issues are dealt by people who are experts in narrative, behavioral, or solution-oriented therapies. And psychodynamic therapists, like the one you were visiting, dealt with unconscious motivation.

Actually, many therapists deal with many different fields at once, some work in relationship therapy both romantic and platonic while others work only on you – if you choose to keep the people in your life out of your segments. Because of that, it was up to the person seeking out therapy to decide what’s right for them. For instance, if you are someone who always felt closer and comfortable with your dad, then maybe it’s best that you seek out a male therapist. You also had to be meticulous about their personalities.

During your search, you found a person who said their therapist always read their email during sessions on a blog forum. One even said their therapist ate rounds of cheese during theirs! It was extremely uncomfortable to read that. But now you knew there were many things to make sure of, therefore being prepared. Gender, expertise, field of education, professionalism, reviews, trust and even the vibe you get from certain therapists are all important factors in choosing a therapist.  

Researching yours, you found her specialty was in female psychology. Including relationships and intimacy. All reviews on her were positive and you were so glad to read through them. After rounds of self-motivation and days of procrastination, here you were.

It’s quite humorous actually, a month ago you never thought you’d be doing anything like this.  

You just weren’t ever capable, especially not with your level of anxiety. What could it be about the past few weeks that you’ve grown so courageous? Was it the meeting with the stranger on the roof, the discovery of a friend, or empathizing with someone you worked with? But what if it wasn’t a person? Perhaps it was the city’s rapid heart at 3 AM, the wild club and heavy beats or the mundane office life encouraging you to take a step forward. Maybe it the tragedy behind that rainy day you hate to recall and hitting rock bottom with such force. Opening the pandora box? As you struggle to find answers within yourself, you realize Jimin wasn’t the only one confused with your behavior.  

You don’t get to dwell on the past for too long as a door clicks open and lets a slight breeze pull you from your thoughts.  A slender young lady holding a clipboard appears; short brown hair, black kitten heels and thin rimmed glasses sitting on her nose. She looks in your direction and smiles, gesturing for you to come her way.

You get up nervously, wiping your sweaty palms on your pencil skirt. Straightening yourself out, you make your way towards her.

“Hi, you must be ___, correct? I’m Dr. Lin.” She raises her hand and you immediately grab it. Her voice was gentle and steady, you felt actually welcomed.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Doctor.”

“You too.” She smiles, “And please, call me Lin. This way please.”  

She leads you in with her arm on your back, making you effortlessly walk into the sanctuary of her office.  

Once you were inside the room, you gape at her place in awe. It was wide open, there was no way you’d feel suffocated in here as you originally thought. There were large windows, displaying the greenery located at the back of the building. She had two huge shelves filled with colorful books on both ends of her office. In front of the windows rested a large shaggy carpet with a glass coffee table on top. Behind the table were two grey sofa chairs that complimented the fuzzy blue carpeting. And a small desk on the right side next to an office chair where she probably did most of her work. As you hear the door shut behind you, you turn around to catch her eye and she smiles at you.

“Right this way.” She says, walking past you which leads you into following her. When she reaches a chair, she pauses, waiting for you to take a seat first.  

So, you do.

“Well.” She starts, grabbing the pen off her clipboard, “How are you today ___?”

“I-I’m alright.”

Lin raises the corner of her lips “Just alright?”

“Yes…I.” You don’t know what to say. Were you already doing something wrong?

“That’s good,” Lin smiles as she clicks her pen open and jots something down onto her clipboard. “That’s a beautiful ring by the way.”

“O-oh thank you.” You cover your finger with your hand as Lin slightly squints at your action, still writing something.

“So,” She takes a deep breath and put down her pen, “What brings you here today?” Looking back up at you, she beams.

“Um…I needed someone to talk to…”

“Do you not have someone in your life to talk to? Or is it that you don’t feel comfortable confiding in them?”

“Kind of both…I…don’t want to trouble anyone.”

“I see.” She writes something else down

“Now tell me ___...why’re you really here?”

Out of nervousness, you kept messing with your ring and you knew she could tell. So, to distract your hands you needed something else to clutch onto. There was a tall glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. Your doctor notices your staring right away to which she points, “Please, go ahead.”

At her approval you pick up the glass and bring it your lips. After drinking just a bit, you decide to hold it down on your lap. For a second, you just stare as the water softly vibrates inside the clear glass while Lin waits for you to speak up. Is there a right way to tell her? You struggle internally at voicing your problems.

“I-I’ve been married six years…and it’s…I’ve had a hard time.”

“Six years is quite long…most married couples have problems by then.” Lin says, “It’s normal. Going through difficulties ranging from various reasons either with money or fidelity – having ups and downs.”

You take a deep breath trying to keep your heartbeat steady. “I barely remember having an up…”

She stares at you, and you don’t look at her. Instead you stare at the small burgundy table on the side of your sofa. It separated your chair with hers.

“…Can you tell me a bit about your husband, ___? Why don’t start by telling me the last up you do remember?”

At that, you finally look up at her. Was there an up you remember? For a large portion of your life, you had thought that every single moment with Jimin was an up. But when it came down to it, that wasn’t the truth. Jimin spent tremendous amounts of time breaking his promises to you. You actually remember the last promise he kept…how innocent the display of your relationship was back then…

The morning was pure white.  

Or at least it felt like so in your cramped dorm room where you spent another day lying next to the only other body you desired. The craving was an ache on par with stories that are never finished or poems with no end. You wonder if this is how it would always be; you longing for him while being so close, as well as lingering on the edges of how long this would last, when he would get up and leave you. Then you can crave him for an eternity.  

Oh, how you dreaded that day. You couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t fathom it, you couldn’t even conjure up the courage to acknowledge it. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Out of the thousands who want him, the millions who would do anything for him – what could have made you so special?

“What are you staring at?” He asks, softly turning his sleepy eyes to you.

His gaze raises your heartbeat, you feel a blush crawl up your bare spine. He’s been quieter these days, always seeming like he was in a deep stupor. A covered silence behind his beautiful mind. Everything was domestic and wholesome, your mind felt relaxed.  

“I’m looking at my world…” You whisper, close to his ear as your lips brush against the outer lobe.  

For a moment he just stares before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Cheesy.”

You smile, head molding into his shouldering with ease. Sex with him was always like a gentle wave, slowly covering your whole body in its warmth. His body was warmer than your comforter and his skin more alluring than any sight offered to your eyes.

“Says you.”

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow up making you nod

“Remember when you took me to the arcade and kept trying to win me that fat round stuffed whale for 2 hours?”

“Pfft, and I never even won that, did I?” He scrunches his nose in mock anger

“Exactly.” You giggle

“Hmm…but do you remember you stood there and encouraged me on the whole time. Didn’t complain once.”

Of course, you remember that day. The heels you wore were so prickly, your feet were sore for a week. Still you didn’t want to discourage Jimin, who was trying so hard for you. Or maybe he was just to immersed in the game, but it didn’t matter. None of that mattered but the fact that Jimin was with you.

“You didn’t complain when my car broke down in the snow on that abandoned road. Nor when I insisted to go see Candyman instead of whatever romcom movie you had in mind… I’ve always love that about you.”

I love that about you.

“How can I ever complain when you’re having fun…I’m not the complaining type of girl anyway.”

“You’re right, you aren’t like the other girls.” Jimin turns to face you completely, a soft grin on your face, “Maybe that’s why I like you too much.”

“R-really?” You flush as he laughs. It was always so easy for him, wasn’t it? “Cheesy.”

“But you love it.” Jimin bites his lower lip and well, you couldn’t deny that. He leans in just then, catching your fleeting eyes before he tenderly connects your lips. You couldn’t deny him then either. Your mouths move in a languid fashion, tongues tasting the deepest corners slowly.

He tasted of honey. That sweet, addictive pleasure.

After a few seconds you both part, Jimin hums with a lazy smirk. Your stares battle infinity before he looks at the clock. “Shit…I should run, my boss needs me to come in early today.”

“Oh, okay.” You say, masking your dejection when he gets up to put his shirt on. Jimin always hated his bosses. Actually, he seemed to have a problem with any figure who displayed authority over him.

“…Jimin…” You call out to him and he looks at you over his shoulder. “You’ll come back tonight, right?”

“…Right.” He says with a smile.

“Promise?” Your voice is so quiet it disappears with the sounds he makes as he shuffles to get up. So you just watch as he gets ready, the yearning in your heart and mind stirring again as you glare a hole into his muscular back. And suddenly he turns, with that same smile on his face. The one that has entrapped your heart many times before.

“I promise.”

And that was the last promise he actually fulfilled.

“That sounds so sweet.” Lin pulls you out from your thoughts and you take notice of the gentle smile gracing your features.

“It was.”

“How long ago was this?” she questions

“…”

“___?”

“Si-…seven years ago”

She frowns, furrowing her eyebrows “And how long have the two of you been married again?”

“Six years.”

“Then what have the last six years been like for you?” She asks softly

“He’s fucking another girl.” You calmly state as the room goes silent. The only thing you could hear were the morning birds outside the window and your sullen breaths. Thinking about the last six years made you upset…you couldn’t do anything to change that. Your grip on the glass becomes tighter, and you notice you’ve left prints again. So, you quickly begin wiping them. “He’s been…fucking other girls.”

…

“…I see…why don’t you start from the beginning.”

And in a moment, you’re spilling it all. Every single tortuous detail from your spousal life. Jimin’s promises, his lies. Every time he shut you down or off. Whenever he created distance. Jessica. Mina. Tina. All of last month, as if it was a story written in a word document. Every single pain you felt. You were crying by the end of it. Both from the searing lump in your throat and from the dreadful feeling of betraying your husband by not keeping your marriage’s confidentiality.  

Why did you always feel so guilty?

You were sobbing into your palm as the doctor offers you a Kleenex. Wiping away at your tears, you take a glimpse at her expression. It had somewhat hardened in what you think is sympathy…but you couldn’t describe it well.

“Is there anyone you’ve spoken to about your husband’s infidelity other than Irene or Yoongi?”

“No.” You sniffle

“What about your mom?”

“I…I barely see her. Last time I t-talked to her was on the phone a year ago…on my birthday. And even if I d-did…I doubt I’d tell her.”

Lin takes a deep breath, “I see.” She commences to write something down once again on her clipboard. “Infidelity can be damaging in all sorts of way to an individual…especially to one’s self confidence.”

She looks at you “Do you feel that you have lost your sense of self-worth?”

“I wouldn’t know…I’m not sure I ever had any.”

This time, she takes off her glasses to hold in her fingers as she rests her knuckles under her jaw.

“While you’ve been here, I noticed you gave vague and short replies as if you didn’t want to talk in the first place when that’s exactly what you said you came to do. And you’re sitting at the edge of your seat.” She points at your hips and you immediately look down, “You’re trying to not leave a mark of your presence in the room, just like in the lobby…even the glass…you’ve marked off your prints around three times now?”

Were you really doing all of that? You felt embarrassed.

Her eyes immediately soften, and she speaks in a slower tone, “I just want you to tell me why you keep trying to make yourself as insignificant as possible. Why do you only become full of life at the mention of your husband?”

You wish you had an answer for her, but you don’t. Huh, how funny is it that this is the one time your perfectionism fails you. The one time you fail to provide an answer. Instead you opt to stare at the small table again. There were books on the table…one particular one stacked on top that caught your eye.

Her Body and Other Parties, the title read.

Lin notices where you were gazing off at.  

“…___...can I ask you something private? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Well she knew so much already. How can yet another intimate fact hurt? So, you nod meekly.

“How is your sex life?”

“Huh?” You make eye contact immediately after processing what she just said

“Can you tell me the last time you made love with Jimin?”

“Uh…um… uh-we haven’t been, I mean I can’t…with him.”

“Why?”

“Because when I tried to…Tina appeared in my head and I just…”

“Alright.” She says, looking ahead as if in thought. “Then when was the last time you were able to?”  

You try to think, “Around 3 months ago.”

“Before Tina then. And you’ve been sexually active occasionally before that, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How was it then? Did he make you feel good?”

“Yes…I think?”

She gives you a certain look, “You think? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Jimin…everything feels good with Jimin.”

“Were you able to reach an orgasm with Jimin?”

Silence puddles the room.

“No.” You whisper in the smallest voice

“…___, can you tell me how long it has been since your husband gave you an orgasm?”

There’s a strumming inside you and you feel your insides pound. She said you didn’t have to answer right?

“Since…Jessica.” You murmur her name so low you don’t think she heard it. But the way she clicks her pen on tells you otherwise.

“…Can you tell me how many years it has been?”

“…”

“If you don’t want to answer it, that’s all right. We can talk about something else.”

“5 years.”

“…I see…and before that?”

“Before that…I always came before Jimin. It was surreal to have him above me…inside me. I felt so…loved.”

Lin glances out a window for a few seconds, seemingly in thought. Then she brings her attention back onto you. “Has Jimin ever noticed?

You snort at that, to which she raises a brow. Clearing your throat, you speak again.

“No, he hasn’t noticed. I fake them.”

“So, you let him have sex with you, never once felt satisfied and didn’t complain?”

You look down at your glass once again, “I…I didn’t want him to not touch me.”

Lin nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I wanted him to love me…to only look at me. Not being able to cum…is all my fault anyway. Something…must be wrong with me.” You wipe the tears loitering your sockets with your crumpled Kleenex.

“No. This isn’t your fault.” Lin states before she sighs, rubbing at her neck. “I’ve heard that before in a lot of my female patients. Yet it still manages to amaze me.”  

“___,” She addresses you with full attention, making you straighten your spine, “Recently, I have been reading books on female sexuality and happiness. One of them being this-” She picks up the book you were looking at “-‘Her Body and Other Parties’ by Carmen Maria Machado. And I have come to notice a pattern between a woman’s sensuality and her self-esteem.”

Lin pauses, putting the book back down and looking back at you to make sure you were keeping up with her, making you nod in return.

“If I may ask…have you, by chance, brought yourself to an orgasm in the past 5 years?”

“Huh?”  

“Have you ever masturbated?”

“Umm…no…”

“Maybe once when you were a teen? College, perhaps?”

“No.”

Like she had an epiphany she writes down something yet again on her clipboard.  

“Then that’s what I want you to do before our next session. Educate yourself on healthy masturbation.”

Your jaw drops open at her statement, a string of questions leaving your lips. What did she just say? There was no way you’d be capable of doing something like that! You almost died just thinking about-  

“___, I know it seems crazy, but masturbation is directly linked to a women’s mental health. It helps you gain confidence, release stress, produces endorphins and strengthens your immune system. We will be able to find out a lot about you, such as if you are interested in the idea of sex or not, either which is fine. It can also tell us if Jimin’s infidelity has been causing you subconscious psychological damage.”

Your mouth shuts as she lists her reasons.

“You have spent your life, giving yourself away. To your mom, to Jimin, to your work. You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are. There’s barely any of the real you left inside.” She points at your chest, “I need you to find out what you want, the things you like. The pleasures YOU seek.”

“I want you to learn about yourself. Learn how to properly care for yourself…how to love yourself.”

As her words register in your brain, you think back to a couple days ago. About how you sat with Irene, outside that small café. Not understanding that you genuinely liked cooking, just thought you did it to make your mom or Jimin happy. And about how good it felt, how amazing it was to realize there was a part of your personality not molded from the people who took advantage of you. It was…liberating.

“O…okay, but how do I…I mean my sessions with Jimin were all soft…I’ve never done anything myself before.”

“It’s up to you really…why don’t you start out by using a toy? You’ve missed out for a long while, so yes. I think a toy would help you.” She smiles at you and you want to stuff your face into the couch.

Could today get any stranger?

Suddenly a timer beeps causing Lin to look back at her desk.

“Oh, that’s all the time we have for now ___,” She says standing up, and you rush to stand with her, placing the glass back on the table. “I hope you can successfully complete this task I’ve assigned you, and I’ll meet you the same time next week, alright?”

She extends her hand, and you take it immediately “Umm, yes definitely.”

With the pleasantries out the way, you carefully make your way towards the door. Once you place your palm on the door handle, Lin calls out to you once again,

“Oh, and no thinking about Jimin while completing my assignment! This is about you and only you after all.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-”

“Irene, please stop laughing.” You groan into the receiver, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

“Sorr-I just ahhahahah, no wait-” She wheezes over the other line. Taking a deep breath, she consoles herself. “Alright, so let me get this straight. I’m out of town for a week and you end up going to a therapist who tells you to jerk yourself off on the first session?”

“Ireeenneee,” You whine, “She’s a smart lady. She’s trying to help me.”

“Oh, she’s definitely trying to help you alright.” Irene snickers and you huff in frustration. Maybe you shouldn’t have called her to tell her about your Saturday night plans.

“Okay, okay, no more jokes. So, are you going to do it?”

“Yes…I mean I don’t know…I’m a bit nervous.”

“You haven’t came in 5 years. As a girl with a healthy libido, that would emotionally damage the hell out of me. Maybe the Doc’s onto something.” Irene states

“You think so?” This is what you wanted as usual. Reassurance.

“I don’t know to be honest…why don’t you try it out and tell me? You sure you bought the right item?”

You stare at the small unwrapped object in front of you. A bullet vibrator. All of that internet searching for a pink oval-shaped ball.

“I…think…” You gulp, becoming slightly intimidated

“Well I think you’re going to have an amazing night my princess.” Irene coos making you blush

“I-I-I am hanging up on you now!” You pout, flustered

“Wait, no I wa-”

With a huff you end the call, throwing your phone off to the side. Again, you were left doing nothing but staring at your toy. It just laid there, staring back at you. The atmosphere of your room felt oddly tense.

“Okay…be gentle.” You whisper to it. It doesn’t respond.

You pick it up carefully, taking off your robe and laying down against your mattress.

…Now what?

You were a grown woman; it was healthy to explore your sexuality. That’s what those internet articles and female magazines told you, all written in a perky tone to somehow connect with the modern working woman. Although you being you, you couldn’t help but point out their spelling mistakes.

That’s not the point, you huff, staring at your ceiling in frustration. What were you supposed to do right now? Your core was exposed to the air, the bullet vibrator stayed stiff in your left palm and you felt kind of ashamed in this position.

No thinking about Jimin, you recall Lin warning you. How were you supposed to do that? Who else would ever make you feel the way Jimin made you feel? Granted, he didn’t actually make you cum in the past few years, making love with him still felt good.

Or at least you think what you had with him felt good. At the times he made love with you, you desperately tried to convince yourself that it was different with you than with Jessica or Mina. That you were special to him and they were just side pieces. It…didn’t really work. Nevertheless, there wasn’t anyone who made you feel as bright as Jimin, no one you made you flustered and left you stuttering.

Well except maybe Irene and her smart mouth.

You giggle as you think of your friend. Before you begin to ponder on the subject a bit too long. Irene did have a pretty mouth. Her lips were always so cherry red and eyes foxy and seductive. It was always difficult to look at her straight in the face, but she made you sure you did no matter what. She was so assertive.

It was then, when you were dreaming about her intense ogling that your hips shifted slightly, your exposed core aching. H…How would Irene feel around your…your…

“Ah-” You moaned, your arm sliding down until your fingers made contact with your folds. Your eyes were closed so you could better picture her jet-black hair, the lax strands perfectly framing her small face. Your mouth was shaped as an O, as your fingers brushed through your folds, sliding them across the lax skin, before stretching them open, becoming wetter by the second.

“Nn-ahh.” You cry out softly as you rub around your clit. Your mind filling with a deep haze. This was so strange, you’ve never thought of women this way. But then again, you haven’t thought of anyone this way except for your husband.

“Nuh uh~” You hear the tender tone of a feminine voice echo, and you strain to look between your thighs to spot your smirking vixen of a best friend, “No thinking of him here.”

She coos before she tips her tongue out, her face dropping into your middle. Whimpering loudly, you arch your back off the bed as you feel her take you into her mouth, wet muscle playing around with your juices. She slid it up, down and across, pinch your nipple as she sucked on your nectar.

“oh my- I-Ire-” You hear her snicker, her laughter shooting straight through your spine. While still in a foggy daze, you squeeze the vibrator in your left palm, before pressing the small power button with your thumb. Your breathing was heavy, the device buzzing slightly in your hand as you brought it down.

For a moment you hesitated, the object’s frequency intimidating you. So, with a deep breath, you shut your lids, connecting the vibrator with your clit. Immediately a wave of pleasure washed over you, your eyes shot open as you groaned. It was as if Irene’s tongue was molded to the shape deep inside of you. Your body raised in temperature.  

Although only connected to one part, you could feel the toy course throughout every limb. It left you shivering as you clutched the bedsheet beside your hips with your wet digits. You could feel your thighs, drenched in your sweetness, the air around them cooler, softer. Irene’s tongue increased in speed, sending your mind spiraling.

“O-OH mm-” You don’t know why you were trying to hold back your voice, but you couldn’t help it for some reason.

“Don’t hold back.” You suddenly hear, and you break out of your bewilderment to find another person on top of you. Shadowing over you was straight black hair, lusting doe eyes and soft rabbit features passionately regarding you. “I want to hear you.” He whispers as his large arms enclose around your head.

Why was he here?

Did you somehow want him to be here? You didn’t know. All you did know was that there was a knot forming inside of you, coiling around your insides with a viper like grip as you continued to fall into his stare. It felt so good, so euphoric. The pleasure was addicting.

You felt like you were going crazy, fingers slowly linking to your cunt once again. Rubbing circles as the device vibrated through your bundle of nerves. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be thinking about him. But the heat from his body made you feel lightheaded, whimpers escaping you like crazy. It was so wrong, but you felt so good in the moment.

“You’re so pretty like this.” Jungkook murmurs, moving away your hair sticking to your face. In a second Jungkook took the device away from you, winking at you. Confused, you tilted your head at him on the pillow before your eyes suddenly rolled into the back of your head.

He amped the vibration, placing the toy halfway inside of you. Your hips moved off the bed, fingers leaking wet with your nectar as you played with your clit. You wanted him inside of you so bad. It’s not that you wanted to conceive this very image, the sane you would never ever do something like this but fuck you don’t know what the fuck was wrong with you in that moment. And you didn’t care.

You imagine Jungkook drilling inside you, his fat dick ripping through your insides as the bed shook with every thrust. That was all it took to push you over the edge. And soon you were cumming, screaming out his name.

“J-Jungkook, yes! Oh God!”  

A heavy wave of pleasure washes over you, stars obstructing your sight. Your mouth hung open as your pussy convulsed. Shuddering through the tremendous sensation, you fall back onto the mattress with a thump, and the toy helps you ride out your orgasm.

“Haah...haa...”

BzzzBzzz

The only noises that were left were of your excessive breathing and the strumming of the bullet vibrator. It felt like all your energy had suddenly left you, you forgot how powerful orgasms were until now. Soon finding it to be painful, you remove the toy from inside you, pressing the power button as you hold it up to your face. It was sticky wet, your juices smothered around the pink device like glaze.

Glazed donuts.  

Blushing, you throw it to the side, still trying to process everything that just occurred. Wow. That was…Irene…and then Jungkook. You jump around, squealing into your pillow. What just happened?! Why did you imagine those two out of everyone? How will you ever face them again?

Even after everything was done, you couldn’t help the way your body felt so thrilled and satisfied. For some reason, you felt like you were floating on cloud 9. It felt so out of place, you hadn’t felt this way with Jimin ever. Not even on your best days. Who knew something so taboo could turn you on so much?  

Fuck.

You turn so your back rested against the bed again, before slamming your hands onto your face. Were you going to have to explain all of this to your therapist? No way were you going to tell her who you jacked off to. As you were overthinking and worrying about your near future, you suddenly began to feel very drained and numb. You blinked lazily, the familiar weariness akin to sleep.  

It took you by surprise, you hadn’t been able to fall asleep without sleeping pills for a long time now. As you bring your arms back down to look at the ceiling, you’re faced with your empty bedroom one again. Jimin had always been gentle with you, hadn’t he? It was another reason you loved him as much as you did. When you both made love, it felt like he could never hurt you.

Reality kicks in and a longing surrounds you. It was inevitable, you were bound to remember him again. You couldn’t help but wish your husband was here with you to share your happiness.

You wish he was here with you to see your growth, to be proud of you. You wish he was here with you and you couldn’t help but feel that yearning for him like you’ve always felt. You really wish he could love you. Looks like you hadn’t exactly passed this task, since you weren’t supposed to think about Jimin but you didn’t care. More than anything, you wanted him home.

Old habits don’t just die after one success.

So, as the thought of your vacant house infected you, before you could dwell on the topic further. Before you took another pill, feeding your insides with your own poison. Become a moping drone, a sickened shell once again, you shut your eyes. Blocked out the evil world before you and relaxed every muscle, every scar in your brain. It was the only thing you could think of doing. Thankfully your spent energy agrees with you.

Before Jimin could take over you once more, without ever lifting a muscle.

You fell asleep, letting yourself feel drained and dreaming of the wedding and the bright shore.

It was inevitable.

Your eyes flutter open to a soft white room. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, lighting up the canvas across your orbs. You wriggle your toes about, slowly seeping into full conscious.

Once you can make out the ceiling above you, you stretch your muscles before sitting up.

“Ji-”

Turning on your side, you place your palm down on the cotton sheets beside you. A palm you meant to place on a body that was meant to be on the bed. Beside you.

“Right.” You whisper, staring at the cold spring empty of life and bringing your hand back to your lap.

No one’s there.

Sighing, you swing your legs off the bed and onto the floor – the fluffy carpet molding into your feet. You push yourself up, the action causing the sheets to slither off your naked body and expose your nipples to the chill atmosphere. Again, you stretch your tendons, raising your arms above your head and lifting the bottom soles of your feet off the ground. Your back curves and your eyes clenched shut. It’s been a while since you had fell asleep without pills.

Blinking lazily at nothing in particular, you sluggishly turn your body to the direction of the bathroom. You begin to saunter across your room, reveling in the peaceful silence of a sunny Sunday. As you’re a few steps from the door, your gaze catches onto the full-length body mirror set just aside.

It makes you halt in your tracks. A moment passes by before you step closer to your reflection in fascination.

Have you always looked like this?

Is this the way your hair falls over you face? You think as you run your fingers through your soft locks – bringing forward a single strand to the front of your face to focus in on. Slowly your gaze falls back to the mirror and you tilt your head. Sliding your digits onto your face, the tips of your pointer and middle fingers caressing the peak of your nose, gradually underneath your jaw and upon your neck.

Is this how your body was shaped?

You take it all in. Captivated by the glowing expanse of your silky skin, the gentle rhythm of your chest, and the highs of your curves you ran a palm over. Shuddering as a strangely new sensation waltzes within you. The sun’s rays wrap around you like gold, highlighting every mole and freckle settled into your casing. Scars and marks from forgotten memories finding shelter under the spotlight. Every secret exposed in the flare of the replication. It felt like you had just stepped out of a decaying cocoon – stitched together by the molding twined fabric of your uncertainties.

And the you who emerged shone.

There were sparks of glitter all around you. Tiny angels spinning threads of new-found purity onto the secret corners of your soul.

A once caged bird, with virginal wings as large as her innocent heart. Who wears her crown fragile; while her refined mind heals from the battles with the toxicity in amour. Her beauty is an ode to the agile cosmic, lucky enough to hold her able within its seams. Your dimensions were your unique, the line between pleasure and hurt fitted across your stomach.

It was beautifully raw outside that rotten cocoon. You spread your arms out, relishing in the way your body weaves between space and time as your insides melt perfectly into the shape of your skin. Every bone, every ounce of lush, the fruits of your divine frame. The mountains and hills spread amongst your flesh – the caves and burrows layered one on top of the other.  It was all beautiful. Raw, real and radiant. Like a pallet with too many colors splattered amongst the wood, splashes from aches and pain and memories and gain.

Your pallet.

As the pearls of your pupils rake through your figure, they suddenly land on your unclothed core. You let out a shaky exhale, eyes glossing and lashes fluttering. Carefully you guide your hand to your lower region until your fingers make contact with your wet folds. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps poking through your soft pores. Awakening the images of last night; of the whimpers and aches. Of the satisfaction and the explosion of your confined stellar.

This was you. Your perfect frame, your flawless physique, your structured identity.

Was it the early morning air? The first good sleep in years? Or the sensual night before?

…Did it matter?

A smile graces your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself. The slick from your nether regions painted amongst your fingers staining the upper part of your left arm.

You were just happy to be awake.

_

“They’re pretty, right?”

He holds up the peonies clutched in his hand at you, tilting his head so you could see him just behind the stunning flowers. He was everything for you; your energy, your medicine, your happiness. You wanted to melt.

“Yes.” You reply, trying to sound happy; less depressed.

He frowns and it goes straight to your heart, “Sorry”

“For?” He asks, throwing the plant on the couch. Not making eye contact.

Suddenly you wanted to cry. You’re too sensitive to all of his emotions and he knows it. Uses it to his pleasure. It was amazing – how some words had so much power over you.

For being sad. For not living up to your expectations.

“I love them Jimin.” You smile, placing your hands on each side of his face and turning him to you. “I love you.”

And he’s happy. The sun is back on his face.

On the other hand, you feel like the unlit side of the moon. Especially when Jimin engulfs you in a smothering hug.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

From me or Jessica? You think. It had only been a week since the dire revelation and your insides were crumbling. He had sex with you time and time again, but you felt nothing. Something was wrong with you, but you didn’t want to tell him.

You wanted him to be happy. Even if you hated yourself.

As you fit into his arms, you stare at your reflection in the mirror on the back wall. How ugly…how unworthy. No wonder he cheated on you. No wonder he found someone better.

He loves you too, he says.

But you couldn’t help hate yourself.

Ok. What the hell was a T-front string?

You squint your eyes at the screen, rereading Irene’s text for the tenth time.  

Your heels were clacking the floor below you, as you speed walked through the mall with a small giftbag in hand. A while after your little intimate moment with yourself, you had called up your friend to speak to her about the rejuvenation you experienced in excitement. She was very happy for you, giggling through the receiver like a child. It made you smile.

Although, no matter how much she pestered you, you refused to spill the beans about who you ended up jerking off about. Irene was persistent, naming off every actor and model she knew. And you on the other hand had no idea who half of them were. Thankfully, she couldn’t get you to spill the beans. You dreaded her reaction if she ever did find out.

After warding off her interrogation and chatting about something mundane, she had suggested for you to go to the mall so she can help you find some useful ‘items’ for women since you had nothing else planned. Your interest was piqued, thinking it might be items such as the world’s most comfortable bra or scrunchies that never go missing. Yet as you parked your car in the lot, and tentatively made your way inside – you had given up all hope for your superpowered hair ties.

None of the items Irene had been texting you made any sense.  

‘Double D Balls Dildo. Make sure the balls are squishy!’    

‘Shower Sex Foothold. Very useful for shaving your legs. Other things as well I guess.’

???

In an array of confusion, you had gone up to a random employee to ask him what exactly Doc Johnson’s “The Fist” was. The paling look he gave you in return has you traumatized for life. Never again would you ask anyone to explain anything Irene tells you.

As she continued to text you severe objects to buy, you just shook your head while buying a little something of your own. Letting her think you were following what she said of course. You could just imagine the look on her face, the tiny snicker as she continues to lightheartedly play around with your innocence. There was a small jewelry shop you loved in this mall, one Jimin would bring you to after he got a promotion or when it was your birthday.

You bought a small bracelet for Irene from said shop; to thank her for her friendship and for listening to you mope about Jimin. Satisfied with your purchase, and only this purchase – you decided to head out of the place. Your legs were practically running out of the mall, trying to get back home. It’s actually been like this for the past few days.

Since he disappeared.

Every time you stepped out of your apartment, even for a few minutes, you would rush back at twice the speed. It was as if…you were hoping that once you step inside. Once you’re in the sanctuary of your house, he’d be there too. He’d turn around and you could run into his warm arms again. And he’d promise you – genuinely promise – he’ll never leave again. Ever. It was a fairytale reunion made for a dreamy girl. Ridiculous, but you still wished it to be true.

For some reason, you were especially eager to get home today. Even more than usual. When you made it to the first floor and could see the doors you came in from, your phone abruptly buzzed again. Huffing, you open the device, trying to see what nonsense Irene sent you this time.  

You were too busy checking your phone to see where you were going. Your legs were rushing a bit too much to notice the other pairs of legs walking in your direction.

“Whoa-”

“Oww-”

That’s when you ended up bumping into another body with a small thud. The phone in your hand crashing onto the ground, sliding away from your peripheral vision on the floor. Both of you wobbled around a bit but grabbed onto the others arms to seek balance. Once you stood sturdy, you immediately searched around for your missing phone with your head turning about in a frenzy. It didn’t take you long to spot it as it didn’t travel too far, ending up right next to the girl’s leg. In relief you sigh, bending down to pick it up to brush the specks of dust and surveille the damage. The girl on your arm doesn’t move an inch, like she was frozen in place.

After you’ve made sure it’s not broken and everything was working properly, you smiled. Looking up at the girl to apologize.

“Oh, I’m sorr-”

A gasp escapes your throat.

Your eyes instantly widen – in an eerily painful way as your jaw fails you. Your insides plummet with a chaotic mix of anger, confusion, and dread swirling through you – thundering up a storm that has you stagnant. The atmosphere takes a sudden drop in temperature and a chill runs down your spine at the cold air. Subconsciously, you take a step back. Away from the sight before you.

“H-hey ___, long time no see.”

In return, the girl stands there in as much discomfort and anxiousness as you. Shifting on her feet, she sends you an awkward smile. A smile you were used to seeing daily at one point in your life. A smile you grew to reluctantly dislike over the years. Your muscles start to constrict.

“Mina.” A whisper leaks from your lips.

Clink, clank.

You listen in to the busy atmosphere surrounding you while sitting still in your wooden seat. Waitresses passing by, the small chatter, the clinging and clanging of cups and forks. It was all more interesting to you than the predicament at hand right now. There was nothing to really focus in on, except the table in front of you and its stiff glass casing. Which you were eyeing with lasers shooting out of your orbs.

The tension in the air was thick.

And the girl sitting opposite to you was looking at you a bit too anxiously, failing to be subtle with her regard. You could tell she was playing with her fingers underneath the table, a habit you had noticed many times before. Almost four years ago.

“H..how have you been?” She starts, making you look up at her.

As soon as you acknowledge her, her face drops. Like she was afraid of your judgement. She clears her throat.  

“I-it’s nice to see you again…” She strains, “After all these years…you look great.”

There’s an awkward silence that goes by as you’re slow to register her words. It was as if your brain doesn’t want to recognize the situation you’re in – trying to run away from you rather than recall any more past memories.

“It’s been quite long.” You manage to make out, “I’ve been well.”

Why did you lie to her? Were you that afraid of her finding out the truth?

“T-that’s good.” Mina replies a bit too fast.

…

Another awkward silence engulfs your vicinity as you both proceed to poke holes through the table.

“All right, here you are!” A shout wakes you both, making your shoulders jump. “One glass of water and one small coffee, one cream and two sugars.”

A lady places down your coffee cup in front of you, and you exhale at the balmy steam warming up your otherwise cold face.

“Anything else?” She chirps with a small tray in hand

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Mina responds to which the lady nods and leaves with a smile

Mina watches you as you stir your coffee mindlessly. You could tell there was a lot running through her mind like you.  

She hasn’t changed much. Just a couple of alters you could spot. Like how her hair’s a bit longer now, reaching just above the conjecture between her neck and her shoulder and dyed a darker color. A few more piercings graced the left side of her ear now. There was also a small tattoo on her ring finger – some sort of symbol in a mix of purple and red. On the other hand, her style hadn’t changed at all. She still wore those oversized black hoodies and white sneakers. You hide a smile as her dark top almost drowns her.

Mina was as beautiful as you remember.

Suddenly, she huffs, picking up her water.  

Gulp, gulp, gulp

You gape at her with wide eyes as she drinks the whole glass in one go. She sets it down with a clang, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Then her orbs connect with yours, as she continues to stareat you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you catch her regarding the gift bag by your side.

“___, I-” She starts off strong, faced focused and seeming like she knows what she’s going to say.

But as her linger remains, she loses her grip – mouth slacking and concentrated expression failing.

“I…”

“What is it?” You say in a low yet clear tone of voice

“I…God! I don’t know how to say this!” She places her elbows on the table, burrowing her face into her palms. Her outburst turns a few heads to which you shift uncomfortably to.

“Are you alright?” You reach over and place a hand on her wrist, which has her removing her hand covering her face to stare at the place you were touching her. She spots your ring.

“Are you still with Jimin?” She whispers

“…yes.” You say, although it’s not exactly the truth.

You retract your hand and her eyes follow it till they land back on you.

“How is he?” Mina asks, even quieter than before

“He’s well.” You’re not sure how else to answer. Honestly, you didn’t even want to answer.

She scoffs, “Good for him.”

The hate in her tone catches you off guard, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the now frowning girl.

“…Wha-”

“Good for him. Park Jimin. Great. Wonderful. Of fucking course he’d be well, he’s the one and only Park Jimin. The nicest guy in the world. Light of everyone’s fucking life. Sweet, kind, charming Park Jimin. Let me go jump off a cliff.”

She spits each word with abhorrence laced in her tongue. Her eyes squint in anger and her fist clenches the ends of her long sleeves. You sit there, shocked and confused.

When she notices the expression on your face, she unwinds. Moving her arms off the table and sitting up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…I just…” Taking a deep breath, she closes here eyes to contemplate something. Before looking up at you once again, “I always wanted to apologize for what I did to you.”

…

A third silence passes you both. Your brain was now fully awake and taking in each and every word.

“There’s not a day I don’t think about it…what I did to you…the mistakes I’ve made.” Mina’s voice cracks halfway as her eyes become glossy. For some reason, your chest starts to ache. “I regretted it every single day ever since you left. And I always, always wanted to talk to you one last time. I-if that’s okay with you?”

She halts to study your reaction. You nod, urging her to continue.

“…It’s not a secret – what I did over the course of half a year. What I allowed to happen…” She sniffles, staring at the gift bag as a tear falls down her eye. “It’s just…you meet this guy, right? A polite, charming, extraordinarily handsome guy, and he’s great. And he’s married which is also great but-”

“He sees you, like…he actually sees you for you and he befriends you. And he doesn’t tell you to change unlike other guys. He doesn’t turn his nose up at your quirks and doesn’t hold animosity in his eyes. He tells you his secrets…or what you think are his secrets and he appreciates you.”

She takes a deep breath, her nose running and cheeks rosy. Taking a napkin from the table’s corner, she wipes the tears littering her face as your own eyes well up. So this was how Jimin was in her mind compared to yours. There were a lot of similarities and a lot of differences.

“And so,” Mina strains, “You fall for him. Even though it’s wrong and even though he’s m-married. Even though his wife is a wonderful person, y-you fall so, so hard. And when he kisses you while he’s a drunk, giggling, beautiful mess…you don’t stop him.”

You close your eyes as the first tears makes its way down your cheek. Even though there were a lot of differences, the feelings were the same.

“Y-you don’t stop after the first time. Nor after the second and then the third… and it just keeps going on and on and on. Until it’s too late to stop. Even though the guilt eats you alive. Even though you stop eating and stop sleeping and no one can see the bags under your eyes, when he smiles at you-”

Mina shows you a pained smile, “When he smiles at you, and his eyes crinkle and his nose buttons. You think it’s all – the pain, the secrets – it’s all worth it. Because you just feel so damn special for some reason. So, you throw yourself down the drain, become the woman you never wanted in a relationship that would never go anywhere. You lie until your teeth start rotting and hide until the shame stops consuming your heart.”

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand, trying to calm your senses by pursing your lips.

“Then one day…he tells you he doesn’t need you anymore. That you never meant anything to him and it’s over.” Mina’s stop crying now. She stares at the table once again, this time looking at her reflection in the glass. “And you don’t put up a fight, because you knew this was coming. It was inevitable. A real relationship can never be based on a lie. All you’re left with is the person you’ve become.”

“In the end…all you did was become a liar that hates herself. Someone who hurt a woman who’s been nothing but kind to her. Someone who shut everyone out till the one guy she’s wanted shuts her out… that’s the conclusion.”

You let out a shaky exhale, your body lagging and mind numbing. There’s yet another moment of silence as you process everything you’ve just heard. Your feelings…were just the same.

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes shoot up as Mina speaks up once again, “I’m sorry for what I did to you and for all the things I let happen.”

“I understand if you don’t forgive me. And I understand if you never want to see me again. I…just wanted to tell you that you were great. You were a great wife, and a great friend…a great cook haha...and a great person. You deserved better than all of this. You deserved better than all of us.”

“And...and I know how it feels…I…I dated someone after Jimin… and huh ironically-” Mina lets out a breathless laugh, “He cheated on me… and I know I deserve I-”

“No.” You interrupted her, “No one deserves that.”

Mina pauses as she stares at you, “It really hurts…it’s not just them loving someone else, but them breaking your trust and connection. Completely disregarding your feelings and disrespecting you. And something like that coming from someone you love – someone’s who’s supposed to love you…breaks you apart from the inside. And that’s why I now understand what kind of a person Park Jimin was. A manipulative, lying piece of shit who immediately uses people’s vulnerabilities for his own pleasures.”

…

“I hope one day you’re able to move on from what I’ve done but…I will always carry what I did to you. I’ll continue to fall into toxic relationships and continue to have trust and commitment issues for the rest of my life.”

You frown at the feeble girl in front of you. Was this what you wanted from her? From Jessica? Is this what you want for Tina? Would this satisfy your idea of karma?

“Thank you…for apologizing…for speaking your truth.” You began slowly, Mina’s inflamed face staring at you,  

“I always tried to understand why you did it. How you could do that to me when you’ve met me and knew me and…my head was just a mess for the longest time…but now…I just hope you’re able to move on from this as well…I don’t know if I can truly forgive you but I don’t want to hate you any longer. I spent so much energy trying to hate you and the other girls…I compared myself to you, I looked down on you…I ran away from you.  

“But what was it that you owed me at that my husband didn’t owe me a hundred times more?”

Trying to piece your thoughts together you sigh, “The you I conjured up in my mind was a lot more characterless and viler. But now it just seems like I was trying to blame anybody but Jimin for his own mistakes. That’s the whole idea behind homewrecker, huh? I blamed you, I blamed my mother, I blamed myself. I blamed every single person except Jimin. And I shouldn’t have. There was no one else at greater fault. Not even you… and I no longer want to do that. I no longer want to put the blame on others.”

Mina looks away once her eyes tear up again. Her body felt sore and her insides twisted painfully. There’s no greater pain than the guilt of a woman.

“In the end we were all trying to find our happiness…anyway we could. I guess…we just searched for it in the wrong places.”

The rest of the sudden meet up was spent in silence. This abrupt hush being the last one before you finished your drink and observed the traffic around you. It felt like you both had said what you wanted, like your chests were finally free of such a huge burden. What was left was a empty feeling, satisfying but still an end.

Soon, it was time for goodbyes.

And then there you were, driving home from the longest trip you’ve ever had at a mall. You sat there, steering your car on the road, thinking just one thing. All this time, you’ve remembered nothing but bad things about her. About Jessica. And now about Tina. But what was the point in accusing them?  

What type of satisfaction had you gained from hating other women?

Did it stop your husband from cheating? Did it dissolve his sins?

What sort of people were Jessica and Tina, apart from the characters your imagination had invented?  

There were new questions you needed answers to. And there was just one person who could help you answer them all.

Just one.

Jimin was in the balcony, drinking his night away again.

Tina wouldn’t shut up tonight, he didn’t want to deal with her. But right now, he didn’t have anyone he could trust as much as her so his feet were planted in her damn apartment. As he looks up at the bleary sky, his mind wanders back to you. What were you doing at the moment?

Tsk, he scolds himself then. Why did he always think about you in the end? What did you mean to him? NOTHING. You were a toy. A toy he ended up going overboard with almost 6...no 7 years ago from tomorrow.

A toy that was causing him problems...  

Jin had called this morning. “Why doesn’t your wife know where you are?”

It infuriated him; how dare he be questioned like this. And that bastard was one to talk, he was with Jimin playing wingman anytime Jimin needed a quick fuck. Telling him he knows men shouldn’t be tied down to one woman, that men were made to pump out their population into mankind. So why was everyone acting different now?

Why were you?

He kept you under his control for so long. How did you even find out about Tina?

Why was he?

Jimin couldn’t eat for the past few days. Nothing tasted like your cooking so he couldn’t swallow it down. His sleep was fucked up and he tried to wear himself out going to the gym or having sex with Tina or someone else but nothing worked. If anything, he just felt worse. He kept remembering the cologne you came in with that one night, just which bastard were you fucking?

His grip on the glass beer is so tight, he could hear it crack. No, you couldn’t have. Jimin was sure you wouldn’t even think about another man as long as you had him. Who would?

As his heart continues to ache and yearn without him knowing why, mind numb and limbs sore, his phone begins to ring.

Speak of the devil.

...

You studied the phone in your hand, as your thumb trembled while hovering over his name.  

Why was this so hard? You’ve been upfront with him for a while now. So, what is it about today – this moment particularly – where your insides would rather shut down than hear his voice?

As you once again back out from pressing his name on your phone screen, you huff, sitting up in frustration. It shouldn’t be this hard, it’s really not a big deal. So what if you had no idea where your husband was for the past week? So what if he had his own wife sent to voicemail so many times that she had become too traumatized to call him? And so what if the biggest day of your life was tomorrow and he was still MIA? All you had to do right now, was ask about his location. Drown the wild thoughts and insecurities in your head with confirmation from the love of your life.

He owes you that much.

So, with a loud sigh, you click on his name. Ready to face the truth.

Your gut drops when it rings. Falling deeper and deeper with the first ring.

Second ring.  

Third ring.  

Fou-

“Hello?”

Gasping at the voice, you immediately put your phone next to your ear.

“Y-yes hello?”

“…___.”

You wanted to cry. He actually picked up, he really answered. “J…Jimin.”

Your whole body shivered, as if it remembered Jimin existed. He wasn’t some fever dream you mind conjured up. There was so much you wanted to tell him, which spiked up the adrenaline in your system. Oh, how you longed to speak to him.

“I heard you called Jin…” Was his immediate response. After being away from home for so long, after leaving you in the dark. He was more concerned about you talking to someone about how he left you.

“Yeah…I-I did.”

“Why?” He sounded annoyed

“Because I didn’t know how else to reach you…”

“You shouldn’t have called Jin.” He spoke again, firmly.

Biting your bottom lip, you hold back your tears. Does he think it was easy for you? Doesn’t he realize how embarrassed you were? Can’t he understand that you wouldn’t have called him if he just picked up his phone? Jin’s seen you before, he’s made you laugh before, you know him. He’s a very charming person, it’s why he’s one of Jimin’s few coworkers that you genuinely liked. Also one of the first friends Jimin made when you moved into this city.  

It’s why you were terrified that when you make the call…his high opinion of you would change. That to him you’d look like a pathetic, desperate woman whose husband casted aside. You felt so much shame and if you truly, frantically didn’t need his help, you would have never asked.

Doesn’t he know that? Does he care about you at all?

“I…I’m sorry.” You whisper

He doesn’t respond. No, you didn’t want to blame him.

“Jimin…I’m so sorry for everything…I got ahead of myself. Please Jimin…”

Still, silence.

“Jimin…I don’t know where you are…I don’t know what you’re doing but I know that I love you. I love you and I miss you and I need you so much that it hurts.”

…

“Jimin…would you please…please come home to me? Please.”

“I don’t know, ___.” He responds tiredly, “I just don’t know who you are anymore.”

By now you should have known it was useless for you to hold back tears. “You stood in that altar with me, right? You took my hand and told me you wanted to stay by my side forever. You said forever didn’t you Jimin?”

Again, you shared radio silence and you close your eyes and imagine him. His beautiful self, his past innocence. What should you do to capture his attention?

“I met Mina yesterday.”

At that you hear his breath hitch.

“W-what…where?”

“At the city mall…she’s still as pretty, you know.” You let out a giggle

“You’re prettier.” He jokes. It was so out of place but he said it casually.

You laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh until you start to sob. Breath heaving and lungs sore, you sob into the receiver. Your face was wet, and your nose was running, you were sure you have never looked more unattractive. Being close to him once again opened up the flood of your insecurities, made you feel hyper aware of your appearance. Shame and embarrassment enfold in you once more and you feel your throat close in on yourself.

Him just casually joking around reminds you of the old days. Where you might have been broken inside but Jimin was here to mend you outside. And that’s what you needed right now, for him to glue your shards back together again. A porcelain doll is always hollow inside anyway.  

“…_-___.”

You cry louder at the sound of his voice. Your Jimin…you loved him so much.

“J-Jimin-hic-…pleas-please -hic- some home…I’ll change Jimin, I-I’ll be better, so please.”

He listens to you cry and his chest aches like someone pulled his heart out. This was something he was never good at, dealing with someone’s feelings. That’s why he never let anyone get too close, even if they felt like they were. Everyone…but you. Fuck, he shakes his head. No, you meant nothing.

But he still wanted to console you.

“T…the anniversary dinner is tomorrow, right?” He starts, his voice uncertain, “I…I’ll come then.”

“You will?” You hiccup, your own tone unsure

“I will.” He says, and this time he sounded confident. “I will come back home ___, just wait for me…”

“Promise me…”  

What else could you wish for?  

“I promise.”  

How could a little more waiting hurt you?

Jimin shuts of the phone and sighs. It seems like you were back under him, which is a relief. He smiles then, his heart soaring at the thought of seeing you again. Just imagining the look on your face would be enough to keep him satisfied for a long time.

See? You love her. A voice interrupts. It came from deep inside his chest. Conscious, they call it. He hated it more than anything. The only person Jimin loved was himself and the only person he needed was himself.

He’s not like those pathetic people that lust after him immorally. There were no similarities between him and them, there never would be. His conscious seems to disagree though, telling him once again, how much he loves her, someone like her.

Growling at his brain, he smashes the bottle down onto the balcony’s pavement. The shards scatter, glimmering in the moonlight of the pale city. He could see himself in the reflection.

And for the first time, he didn’t like who stared back.

You were waiting.

On that time of year again.

June 17th, the most special day of your life.  

You still remember it quite well; the well-lit Azul sky, the light specks of sand, the calming roar of the clear waves. It was the most beautiful morning in the universe.  

Yet you were a wreck of nerves, sweaty palms and jittery teeth. Jimin’s dad placed a hand on your quivering shoulder, your eyes shooting the gentle senior as he smiles at you consolingly. You were never close to Jimin’s parents, nonetheless they were always tremendously kind to you. A part of you felt so undeserving of their love, but Jimin would remind you that you have earned everything good in the world. Jimin…you couldn’t believe in a few moments you were marrying the love of your life. How and when did your life take such a drastic turn for the better?

Snapping from your reverie, you shyly nod your head at your new father and place your hand under his outstretched arm. And soon it starts – the piano melody signaling the curtains withdrawal.

As the fabric was removed from your vision, the picture-esqu sight came into view in front of you, making you hold your breath and faintly tighten your grip on the elder man’s arm. The audience immediately turned their heads, a pleasant expression of awe plastered on their faces. White and pink carnations, complimenting your long lacey dress, decorated the virgin painted benches and their petals littered the bleached soft satin carpet.  

And in front of it all – the audience, the flowers, your mother – stood Jimin. You lost control of your senses when you saw him. He stood perfectly still, hands clasped together and slightly taller than usual with his heeled derby’s and straightened posture. His black suit was stitched without a visible flaw, even in this bright daylight. It elongated his limbs and made them seem sturdier – rather well put as he jut his chest out ever so softly. Your eyes couldn’t break away, even as you began advancing towards him. Jimin too, stared right at you unwaveringly, like he could see no one but you at the moment.  

His hair was gelled back and brush to the side, letting the sunlight highlight his ethereal features. When you reached the end of the carpet, Jimin’s father took a hold of your hand and handed it to Jimin. As soon as Jimin’s fingers touched your palm, a spark of fire traveled underneath your skin and your arm broke out in goosebumps. He led you up the three-step stairs, into the altar where the priest stood in front of you both.  

“You look gorgeous.” He whispers with a cheeky smile

You break out into a shy smile, some of the rashness in your nerves leaving you.

His eyes never leave yours as the priest starts speaking and you could feel your own eyes well up as you hear the quiet sobs of Jimin’s mother.

After the small sermon, it was time for that big question.

“Do you Park Jimin, take ___ to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish her in sickness and in health? And never leave her lonely?”

For a moment you thought you saw a pause in Jimin’s smile. That there was a sudden weakness flashing across his orbs. But it was over, very, very quickly.

“I do.” He states proudly, causing all the unease in your lungs to vanish.

As the priest repeats the question to you, you take a deep breath, ready to state your obvious answer.

Suddenly though, you catch the eyes you’ve been avoiding the whole time.

Your mother. Sitting in the front row.

Without a smile.

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Mom, please…I’m getting married in a few hours. Why is this the only thing you have to say to me?”

The older lady inhales, her nostrils flaring in exhaustion. “I’m saying this for your own good.”

“No! You’re saying this for your own sick pleasure!”

“How could you think that way about your own mother?”

“…because let’s face it mom…you’ve never cared about me…”

She went silent after that. 10 minutes of arguing and this was what made her silent.

“Alright.” She spit, bitterly. “But when he ends up leaving you, don’t come crying to me.”

…

“I never have.”

“Madam?”

You jump from your daydream.

“Pauillac?”

A well dressed, older waiter stands in front of your table. He held out a bottle of expensive looking wine.

“Oh, thank you.” You say, holding out your glass.

Fast forward to seven years, you set up a reservation at the most popular 5-star restaurant in your city. It’s something you’ve done every year for four years, a month ahead because of the place’s demand and limited seating options. Even though your nerves were eating at you, you kept yourself alive. Today is the day you’ll see Jimin again. He’ll be back home again.  

Your body was yearning for his touch again, you felt yourself getting hot and cold at times for no reason. But it was alright, you were happy.  

You’ve gotten your hair, makeup and nails done at a salon today, wanting to look beautiful for your husband. It was red in color and light weight, to not seem overbearing, and you wish Jimin would like it on you. Imagining him complimenting you had you unintentionally beaming. Anything and everything he’d say tonight was bound to have you convulsing inward, you were just so excited to see him again.  

Having arrived 15 minutes early, you mess with the napkins and cutlery, making sure everything was straight and preppy. Your nerves were on high making you fidget and glance at the door every few seconds. Jimin’s promise rang inside your head as assurance. There was a letter clutched in your hand. Since there were so many – way too many things you wanted to tell him, you decided to write a letter instead.

He’ll be here. I know him.

Time went by a bit too slowly, so you took some sips of your wine. What should you say first to him. Oh, you should thank him for keeping his promise. That would make him happy. Then you should apologize for that night, negotiate carefully to not scare him away. You’d tell him of the progress you made, about how you were learning to stand on your own two feet so you wouldn’t bother him again.

Whatever you did, you could not afford to make him feel upset again.

As you continued to carefully plan out your time with Jimin, a voice resounded in your head.

“You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are.”

…

You were doing it again. Of course, you didn’t want to apologize to him…but you were more concerned with what pleased him. Sighing, you took another sip of your wine.

Where was he? You were beginning to get angsty. Tapping your foot against the floor, you signaled the waiter for more wine. 20 minutes had passed. 30. 40. Soon you were bombarded with voices echoing your head.

Lin. Irene. Yoongi. Mina. Your mother.

Everything they said over the past month haunting your insides until you shook. Stop it, you wanted to yell. All you wanted was to be in your husband’s arms. You aren’t stupid for yearning for love. Jimin promised.

1 hour.

You had begun to stare at the people around you, dressed so lavishly. They all look so content. How lucky they were. There was a senior couple a couple of tables away from you, the lady feeding something sweet to her husband. It made you smile, and your heart hurt even more. Jimin, please come soon.

2 hours.

Where was he? People were starting to notice you could tell, their shaped became nothing but eyes that beheld you with animosity. Eyes poking you in places that left you sore. You wanted to jump into a cold river. Wash away the restrictive feeling around your throat. No, you aren’t stupid for trusting Jimin again.

With a deep breath, you press his number, holding it to your ear with pursed lips. He doesn’t pick up. But you dial it again. What if something happened to him, you worry. There was a similar feeling inside of you. The one you felt when you visited this office that night. Your heart and mind pleaded with him.

Please, Jimin.

“…Hello?” A groggy voice answers

You smile – you actually fucking smile for the tiniest millisecond. Before realizing that wasn’t his voice. No, that high-pitched feminine voice wasn’t his. Your whole face falls.

“Ms. ___?”

Tina.

“H-hello, Ms-” You overhear some shuffling before you hear him.

“Kitten, who is i-”

No longer concerned, you hang up. You were so stupid.

Your face twitches, mind still frozen before the tears fall like rain. It was raining outside too.  

In seconds, your makeup’s all ruined, and the collar of your dress is strangling you. With so many people in the vicinity, you try to stop your tears but it’s no use – you can feel a few stares burning a hole through your head. You don’t even care to acknowledge the waiter who cheerily walks up to you pushing a cart.

“Ma’am here’s your oh-”  

He stops dead in his tracks in front of you, who’s silently heaving into the air. He’s at loss of what to do as he gapes at your wrecked state, in his sweaty palms he weakly holds the handle of the cart. On that cart laid a large 2 layer lavishly decorated vanilla-swirl cake. Jimin’s favorite. With two words written at the top in pink strawberry icing.

‘Happy Anniversary’

You had no clue where you were headed.  

The hush of the car pushed you forward. Your grip on the handle was deathly, frigid arms barely holding it eerily still and not crashing into one of the pawn shops on the right out of pure fury.

After the tears came the rage. You were so, so angry. And you didn’t give one single fuck.

Fucking Jimin, perfect, lovable, charming Jimin. Fuck him.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he not show up? How fucking dare he embarrass you like that? He lied to you yet again. And you, like the pathetic woman you are, fell for it again. It was like a drug, the wrath and despair within your system. Traveling across every nerve and every stream. Feeling like tiny needles prickling you all at once. You were so fucking angry.

It kept replaying in your mind. Tina’s groggy voice, her confusion…her pity. You couldn’t control anything, not your breathing nor your anger. All you wanted to do was forget about it all. Before you did something you really regret. So, you sped to the only place that made you forget once before.

You push the breaks to a halt, your body lurching forward at the sudden stop. Turning, you look out the car window, breathing fire through your nose. The loud beating of the music silently shakes the whole road. Bright red neon lights flare into your vicinity, reflecting even the puddles of the long dead rain.

Cypher Road.

With a humorless smirk, you open the car door, stomping your way out of the vehicle. Wasting no time, you sprint into the entrance with a slight stumble in your step and are immediately greeted by dancing bodies. It wasn’t any different than that other day – if anything, busier. The noise was so loud you could stop yourself from thinking for once. You brush past the lively bodies without a care, yet there is a small warmth with each touch of flesh that has you inhaling repeatedly.

Trance.

There is a joy of being here. You hadn’t wiped the scars of mascara off your face, your hair was a mess from you pulling on it. And your dress felt even lighter than before as you stepped onto the dance floor. The atmosphere was blinding, and you had come here to be filled with its addictive ignorance. How sweet it is to not taste the bitter reality.  

It was slow at first. You weren’t in rhythm with anyone, but then again when had you ever been. Spanning your arms out, you brought them above your head as you twirled once, twice – a few times. Every second you unraveled yourself, closing your eyes as your heels glided along the dance floor and you shook and turned. Swung and twist.

You wanted to lose all your energy here. Everything had to melt away.

With every move you made, your mind became light headed, stars amongst your seams exploded and the fast pace of the universe seem to lull. So, softly, you fluttered your lids open.

The first thing you saw were the bright neon green lasers, traveling across the dance floor from the ceiling. Then you notice how the whole floor had slowed, the laughing, the screaming, the motioned limbs. Everyone around you had begun moving along your timeline, your pace – the slow dance with life for the very first time. Somehow the music had lost all it’s upbeat fervor and your ears echoed a blue ambiance in its place. You felt drunk even though you took mere ounces of liquor.

Numb, you were more numb thank drunk. Your movements were sluggish and your mind in a deep haze. This is what it feels like to be high on grief. While your eyes were roaming the dance floor, they landed on someone. There was a girl, around 10 feet away from you, who caught your attention, you’re not sure why. Nothing seemed unordinary about her – not her short dress, nor her pretty face. The club was full of that. She dances as lethargic as the figures around her. What you kept staring at was the necklace she wore, the pure silver being the only color you could see on her as the darkness of the club muted all other colors.

But the second a citrus scent fills the air around you, she is long forgotten. You turn back in front of you to see him.

He, who stood a good 5 feet ahead, taller than Jimin. He, who wore an expensive suit with a colorful scarf tied around his long neck. Dusky hair and sharp eyes, a slight tan and fixed stare. It was in that moment time come to a complete halt. Just you and him, even breathing and secret heartbeats. His face tilted to the side, a smirk present on his inviting lips. You blinked leisurely.

“Nice to see you again, baby.” He said in his deep, sexy voice

You recognized his voice.  

Who could forget it?

The stall door slammed open as your body was pushed inside. For the first few seconds your breath was knocked out of you, just to fit into his mouth once again.

“Mmm-ah-”

His mouth was hot, heavy and wet. The middle of your spine shivered, sending a cursing sensation all throughout your body as you held onto his arms. The warmth of his shoulders kept you giddy, your face tilting to allow his tongue in further. His grip on your hips was tight, his fingers dangerously lurking your ass. You blushed as you felt your chest pressed up against.

He bit your lip and you gasped, your fingers treading into his hair as you tilted your head back. His lips kiss down your jaw, onto your neck as you moan loudly. The air was immense, the four walls of the stall closing in on you and you didn’t care one bit. You wanted to be swallowed. After nipping the soft skin of your neck, he looks up, into your eyes.  

As you stare into the endless abyss by your own glossy orbs, you could swear there was no one more beautiful.

He smirks yet again, making you clench. His thigh parts your legs as his warm hand travels along your hip line before he grabs your dress. Pulling up the light fabric, you feel his hot fingers on your bare skin. You try to hold back your voice but fail miserably as you whimper, holding onto to him tightly. Softly, his hand caresses your thigh, tender and slow. You close your eyes, your brows knitting in what you think was frustration and you hear him chuckle.

God, that voice of his.

The air is knocked out of you as his fingers land on that sweet, sweet spot. Your eyes opening to find his intense stare.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” He huffs, fondling you over your panties

Unable to properly respond, you blush. Biting your lower lip before you begin to rub yourself on him. You’ve never done that before. Taken control of the situation that is.

“Shit.” He mutters, staring you down as you shamelessly stroke yourself against him. Your freedom didn’t last long as he snakes an arm around your back, your chest crashing into his and his long digits slam into your core.  

“Ah!” You grab onto his arms as he scissors your insides.

“Fuck, baby,” He grunts, his low voice making you tremble, “You haven’t been fucked properly for a long time now, have you?”

His dirty words cause you to clench, curses once again slipping out of his mouth, “I’m gonna change that tonight – shit. I’ll fuck you so good, fill your nice and pretty cunt with my cum.”

You couldn’t say anything, lips trembling and back arching as his elongated fingers fucked into you, reaching such a depth that had you weak in the knees. Thankfully his hold was tight.  

“You want that baby? You want to be stuffed with my dick? I bet I’d slip in so – fuck – so easily, I bet I’d cum right away, what do you think baby?”

“Nn- oh, yes-” It slipped out, as his pace became faster, harder and you wanted to thank whoever created him for his blessed fingers. They were much longer than Jimin.

…

Jimin?

…Jimin.

In an instant your eyes shot open, “N-no!”

The guy made out a ‘huh?’ Before you pushed him away with all your strength. His back collided with the right stall wall, as you used the left one to stand up properly.

You suddenly become all too aware of the ring encasing your finger on your trembling hands. The warm atmosphere now defeated by a scorching heat. Your eyes became cloudy as images of your husband flashed through your mind. The man you swore your soul to, the man who you came home to, his smile, his love. What the hell were you doing? You were married! Married! How could you-

“H-hey? Are you alright? Was it something I said?”

The man reaches out for you, causing you to jump.  

“No!” You shout again, your loud voice echoing the stalls. His eyes fill with worry and the guilt threatens to spill out your throat. Did he know you were married? How would he feel about that? What were you doing? WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!  

You were wheezing without any cause. The air in your lungs felt painful, throat sore and breaths ugly. Panic…you were having a panic attack. The walls were closing in and the light of the restroom gave you a pounding headache.

“I-I’m sorr-” You manage to choke out before running out of the stall, not even daring to look back.

You ran and ran and ran. Pushing away from the heavy bodies littering your way. Sobs of pain left you, but no one even cared to look. This wasn’t what you wanted from tonight – you wanted to forget Jimin, not become him. Yet you can never forget how you reacted to that stranger, how sensitive your body was to someone who wasn’t your husband. Tremendous shame and guilt travel up your neck like parasites. Your eyesight had become blurry, all the overwhelming lights meshed together, and you couldn’t even see anymore. All that was guiding you was the reminder to get out of this loud place.

And it was then that you bumped into someone.

“___? Hey, are you alright? ___?”

A frantic voice, and grip on your arms pulls you back to reality. For a moment you just heave as he shakes you softly, grip firm and protective. Slowly, your eyes begin to clear and breathing slows. There you see Yoongi and you, standing near the entrance hall of Cypher Road.

“Y-Yoon…gi?” You mutter, out of air

“Fuck, ___, what happened to you?” Yoongi shouts, his eyes widened in concern  

“You lied to me Yoongi…” You mutter

“…What?”

“You lied to me!” You cry, pulling him off of you, “You t-told me…” Your voice breaks, tears filling your eyes, “You said he did nothing but fool around with his friends…YOU LIED!!!”

The anger in your voice has him putting up his hands in concern. “W-what do you mean-”

“In there!” You scream, pointing at the dance floor, “In your precious club – is a girl with a necklace!”

“A…necklace?” Yoongi squints in confusion, his head turning back and forth between you and the dance floor.

“A fucking necklace!” You roar as he winces, “A necklace…similar to the one Jimin wore some time ago…”

“___, there are plenty of ways she could’ve gotten that necklace, maybe she-“

“No!” You interrupt him, shaking your head vigorously, “That’s what I say! Those are the excuses I make! ...But not this time. Not when I recognize that special custom-made J pendant on her neck…”

You began to cry, hot fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your throat starts to close in.

“I-I could…couldn’t even see her face…I don’t even know what s-she looks like…” Taking a deep breath, you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment, “Yet I know her…because she wore my husband’s necklace so proudly. Like she owned it…owned him.”

Yoongi stares at you, at loss at what to say. The people around you gave glances and strange looks time to time. But still…no one cares long enough to stay.

“___...just calm d-”

“NO!” You scream again, cringing at the strain in your voice. “I won’t! I won’t calm down! I have every right to be angry!”

“I know that!” Yoongi yells cautiously, “I understand that-”

“No you don’t– No one does! No one knows how it feels to be in my position, no one- Or else you wouldn’t have lied to me!”

“You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to purposely lie to the woman who was staring at the ground a thousand feet below her like her only way out?”

“Just-” You bring your hands up, a sudden wave of exhaustion pouring over you, “I’m so, so tired…I’m so tired of being lied to, Yoongi. Please…please leave me alone.”

“__-” Before he could say another word you were rushing down the hall, out of the building. He stared at the exit you left from a bit too long, the bright neon of the sign hurting his eyes. Everyone else danced on, carefree, around him. His husband always told him this job would be his wolfsbane.

And he was right as usual.

As he’s debating whether to chase after you, a call of his name interrupts his concentration.  

“Hy- fuck, Yoongi hyung!” The pale faced man turns around to see the youngest of his pack shoving through multiple bodies in disdain. The taller man rushes up to him, breathing heavily, with a worried gaze.

“Taehyung?” The older asks with concern laced in his tone. What the fuck was happening? “What’s the matter?”

“S-she was…do you know where the girl who was just with you went? She was right here! The one with the red dress…soft demeanor…?”

Yoongi straightened up as Taehyung described you,  

“How do you know ___?”  

You sat at the edge of your world in silence. The winds of tomorrow’s past blew past you, your hair in rhythm with the fast-paced clouds above. For the moment, you would have preferred silence, but that was not a sentiment the city shared with you. Cars, honking, muttered chatter, you could hear it all. Passing through your ears like an afterthought. Your feet dangled as you held your heels in your hand. What were you thinking of showing up to that anniversary dinner?

What ever made you think Jimin would stop disappointing you?

As you stared at the glass structures you sighed, you always ended up back at the same place. The same kind of city, the same rain, the same broken heart. Perhaps the universe really was trying to tell you something.

A quiet hum stained your body, Keeping you sane from your sadness. It was crazy really, how many questioned can be answered in a day. With a deep breath, you reach out to into the night, stretching your arm. Hand laid flat against the air for a few seconds before you clasped it shut – as if grabbing something. What were you desperately searching for in the night?  

Your husband? Your life? Your childhood?  

Your happiness.

“Thought I might find you here…”  

It was routine then, the sudden loud beating of your heart. Your widened eyes, your frozen physique. The shaky exhale.

…

“I…tried to find you downstairs…in the apartment…but you weren’t there…”

Jimin.

You can hear him walk towards you. And you could imagine it, hands in pocket, the wind blowing through his hair, his relaxed stance and clear eyes. It had been too long…so long, just a couple days felt like years. It felt like something grabbed onto your heart, so tight you couldn’t breathe. You were too scared to turn. To look him in the eye.  

But you did anyway.  

And you just knew the universe hated you. It was him. It was him. It was him. His ethereal face filled with a halo no one could replicate. He was God’s most beautiful creature. How spiteful your creator must have been.

It was him. You wanted to reach out to him.

He stared at you, reading your eyes as you read his. But you both had stopped understanding each other’s language a long time ago.  

You both waited for the other to speak. Yet for some reason, you wanted this silence to last forever.

“…How have yo-”

“Did you fuck her?” You ask, your voice immediately breaking. His face turned pale. “When I trusted you…and waited for you…”

He looked away, mouth shutting and eyes squinting.

You had dreamt of this scenario a thousand times, and in each one you never came off this strongly. So, what were you doing right now? Why did you feel so guilty?

“You fucked her…did it feel good? Are you happy now that you’ve emptied your dick?” There was so much fury in each of your words, but you enjoyed watching him squirm. You didn’t even know half these words were in your vocabulary. “How has she been for the past week? Why did you even come, JIMIN? I waited, and waited, and waited in the pain of the unknown. All while you got your dick wet…And I always do that Jimin…I’m so stupid, aren’t I?

He says nothing.

“Tell me I’m stupid!” You slam a palm on the ledge, “Because you really make me feel that way! And for what?”

The tears you hold back wrapped themselves around your neck, making you struggle to get your words out. You wanted him to feel as hurt as you did.

“What have I done Jimin? What did…I do to you?” Breathing was becoming hard, your lips quivering as you stared at the beautiful somber devil. “All I did was love you, so why? Why do you t-treat me like this?”

It must have been an illusion of either your river-filled eyes or the bleak night because for a second you thought you saw despair and guilt inside him.

“I broke myself apart to try and fit into your world. Became happy for you, always did what you wanted, never questioned you-fuck I would’ve even had children if it meant you would stay with me…”

“God, I’m so stupid!” You roar, grasping fistfuls of your hair and pulling at it, “Here I was trying to be better, here I was thinking that those three girls had something I didn’t but that wasn’t it at all! M-Mina didn’t have lipstick on that night. She couldn’t have marked your shirt…but someone else did! Isn’t that right Jimin?”

You turn back to him, eyes wide and head pounding. “I thought there were only three girls…but there are many, many more aren’t there? I thought Jessica was the first time, but it wasn’t was it?”

Jimin finally looks up at you, and you realize you never said anything about Jessica. He didn’t know you knew.

“You’d been cheating on me…since the beginning…haven’t you? Here I thought I must have done something wrong after marriage…but I’ve been your plaything throughout this whole affair, haven’t I?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You slowly lower your arms, face and body still in shock.

“I’m so stupid Jimin…I felt special for a while…I’m so stupid…aren’t I?”

His face twitches, but his thoughts remain a mystery. You watch quietly as he closes his eyes, a soft exhale leaving his lips. It was too painful to keep staring at him, at the man you once loved more than anything. So you looked back at the sky, pleading for a chance to redo every single event since before you met.

“Jimin…” You whisper, voice pleading. Your sanity was on the brink and you wanted to be pulled in before you fell over. “Tell me I’m not stupid.”  

“I’m letting you go, ___.���

You really hated yourself in that moment. Your name coming out of his mouth felt so good, you almost didn’t hear the first part.

Almost.

“I have to let you go.”

And the first tear falls. Sliding down your cheek easily before the next one leaks. You close your eyes, letting the pain wash away at you for the first time in a while. The fall was long, you could feel the emptiness surround you. For a second it felt like flying, unobstructed and liberated.

“…”

“This has gone…beyond my control…___. I didn’t know what I was thinking, I just...” He looks at you, but you kept yourself inside your head. Arms numb and brain empty. “…I acted on impulse…I thought I knew what I wanted…I thought it was…”

You

“You are right…I have been cheating on you for a long time now…I never loved you…I just kept this charade on for as long as I could. And I don’t know why because I don’t love you…I d..d-don’t.”

That’s what you needed to hear, right? Just like that? Everyone’s been telling you this is better for you, haven’t they? So why are all your words stuck in your throat.

“I’ll go back to T…my friend for now…I’ll be back to pack up my stuff in the next few weeks.”

And with that he gives you one last glance before he turns. That was it, that was his whole explanation. What exactly had you expected? Why the FUCK did you keep expecting? You wanted to call out to him, your heart jumping out of your chest and latching onto his turned back. But instead of uttering a single peep, you listen to his footsteps all the way back to the door.

You listen as he touches the door knob. You listen as he twists it and pulls the door open slightly. All you do is listen when you can feel him hesitate, turning around to look at you.

For the strangest reason you remember the day you met him. That bright day, the soft wind and cherry blossoms. His bright smile and angel eyes, your innocent mind and open heart. It replays in your memory like your life flashing before your eyes. The wind picks at your toes and your body itches, yearning for something you couldn’t comprehend.

So much has changed since. This isn’t the same day, the same wind. There are no cherry blossoms, or smiles or innocence. You both are different now.

This was your chance to call out to him. To jump off this ledge and into his arms. But you just sat there. Listened as he turned back and left. And it was just you and the wind once more. The door closing felt like the cover of a book closing, that this was the end.

And against the fast-paced wind that night, you accepted your defeated.

There were no books out today…

That much you could tell as you stared at the small desk between the couches, dozing off as the sunlight from the large window behind hit your face.

Much like you, she also stared. At the distance in your eyes, the iris dim and face unreadable. There were many things she wanted to ask, many holes she wanted to poke. But she remained as restrained as her profession taught. For she knew the signs of unapproachable person at first glance, having read them countless of times over.  

Yet she couldn’t have you stay quiet the whole time.

“Is everything alright?” Lin spoke meticulously  

You didn’t answer.

She sighed, studying you as she shifted. What could she do right now to make you talk? You’ve been so quiet these past 3 weeks, almost like you didn’t exist. Last week you never showed up, Lin couldn’t help overthinking and dial your emergency contact – Irene, who dragged you over here in frustration.  

You had told her about Jimin, lifelessly stating everything that happened as if facts about your life that hold no meaning to you. She knew how much pain you were in, but your reaction to despair was abnormal since crying was the body’s healing method. It’s a healthy way to process emotion. Then the next week you became silent, were a no-show last week and didn’t speak a word today either. Lin had consulted Irene, who said Jimin had been coming over, taking more and more of his stuff which helped the therapist understand a bit more.

You were mirroring your safe space, becoming as hollow as your apartment was.

“___, please you have to talk to me. Just for a bit, alright? I can help you.”

“Do you ever…” Her thoughts were interjected as you spoke up quietly. She was instantly all ears. “Do you ever…want to redo life? If you could start all over again, without any of your mistakes…would you?”

Lin stared at you for a while. Your expression did not change, you continued to glare a hole through her desk.

“Well…that’s a difficult question ___. Even though a part of me wants to erase the mistakes I might have made… I think it’s important to have the knowledge of those mistakes…why I made them…what I can learn from them…etcetera…”

“Well what mistakes did I make?” You say softly, looking at Lin in her pretty brown eyes. “What kind of mistakes have I made…that I still – to this day – have learned nothing from?”

You were trying to hide it, but she could see it as clear as day. The barrage of emotions you tried to conceal in your pupils. “Why am I getting constantly punished and learning nothing?”

“Why?” You plead, throwing a palm over your head and slouching down in your hair, “Why should I always be the person in pain? I’m so, so, so sad and I can’t change that even though I want to!”

“Trust me L-Lin, I want to change so desperately, I want to! I want to crawl out of my skin and find a new body because everything hurts but I can’t leave me…I can’t leave me, I c-can’t leave even though he can…I can’t leave even though she can… but I can’t, I CAN’T!

“..and you know what hurts the most?” You ask her, to which she does not respond. “What hurts is that he left me…like I was the one who did something wrong.”

“…He left me.”

It falls dead silent after your outburst. The only sound echoing the room was of your steady breathing.

“W…why do they get to walk away whenever they want after everything they’ve done?”

Lin breathes out tenderly, her eyes on the glass table and the reflection of the sun behind. In moments like this, she wishes she really had all the answers for her patients. She really does.

“By she…do you possibly mean-”

“My mother.” You mumble. “The one person in the world that was supposed to love me unconditionally…the one who threw me away like a discarded doll…”

Lin blinks slowly. “It can be very difficult to deal with the trauma and pain from a parent who abandons you…” After deliberating for a bit, she speaks up, “Tell me ___, why do you think you’ve given your all to every authority figure in your life?

You sit back up after a shaky exhale. Nothing comes to mind, except Jimin’s smile. Life was exhausting.

“Be…because…”

Lin nods, encouraging you to go on.

“I wanted them to love me.”

“And why did you think being perfect at everything, work, household chores, unconditional love, would get you their love.”

“B…because…I don’t know…”

“Hmm, can you tell me the first time you noticed someone’s reaction to you being ‘perfect.’ A child hood memory perhaps?”

After thinking about it for a while, you nod.

“...When I was…in the first grade…I got an A on my math exam. I was the only kid and…and the teacher called my mom to tell her I got an A. I didn’t want to bother her so I didn’t do it. And…my mother…she smiled at me for the first time that day.”

You could sense Lin’s soft smile.

“So I tried to get more As but I guess she got used to it. When Jimin…when I would blush or be openly smitten with him…there was a twinkle in his eye. One I could never get out of my head. And I tried…so hard.” You close your eyes, “So hard to keep that twinkle alive even when I was dying inside…but I guess…even he got used to it.”

Opening your eyes, you look at your therapist. “That’s why I did it. So they could love me.”

You become quiet, playing with your fingers as Lin stare at you. Her mind was in deep thought.  

“___,” Lin sighs after a while, “You know that I can’t tell you to not be upset… you have every right to feel whatever you feel because what they did to you caused you great pain…but I think it’s time you learned how to love yourself. And for that we need to address the root cause of your issues.”

“My mother?”

“Your mother.”

You nod, contemplating what she said. Learning to love yourself? That was a concept so foreign to you. Could it really help you understand yourself? What could you possibly gain from it, what was there to love about you? Right now, you just wanted to sleep forever. Forget you exist at all.

Existence is a pain itself.

Maybe you should confront the cause of your existence then.

“Trust me ___.” Lin speaks, catching your gaze, “You deserve better. You deserve to love yourself.”

Oh, you just cracked the puzzle.

She had aged.

Your mom, who was always so tall. To you, she stood over all the towering counters and tables and light switches. Compared to her, you were tiny. Someone who always had to look up at her, stretching your neck and straining your eyes. At her, who easily touched things you could only wish to reach.  

She looks so small now. Wrinkles skin deep, frown lines too permanent. She, who was once the tallest person in your naïve, 5-year-old eyes. Someone you thought would always look as young, as beautiful.  

As cold.

You watch her, face trained to be still. Her posture was demure, lips sat motionless and eyes downcast. She wore a light earthy dress, full sleeves and prim collar…which was so very her. It was strange to you, how at one moment you wanted her to look at you more than anything. To acknowledge you.

But today you were content in studying her with a passive gaze.

“How have you been?” She begins quietly. You stare at her, then glance at her fidgeting hands in her lap.

The atmosphere was dim, a bit too lull for a restaurant during lunch time. Maybe you were suppressing the chatter and clatter, to focus on her. Again, how fitting.

“…I’ve been well.” I have not. “How about you?”

“Good.” She replies softly, staring at her steaming tea in interest.

You sigh, your shoulders moving up and down along with your breath. What were you expecting? This is a person you hadn’t seen in 3 years. Why would she suddenly be interested in you? Why should you be in her?

At that moment, you hear small laughter reach your ear. You turn toward the appealing sound, not sure why you wanted to find its source. Yet once you took it in, you understood. It was a child. A mother, and her small child. The lady was not much older than you, wearing a blue-green dress as she fed her daughter dress in pink a small piece of the steak she ordered. They seemed happy, content in the small moment they shared, and you couldn’t help but smile at them.

What a fantasy they were living, you hope they knew how lucky they were. Everyone seems to be luckier than you. For a while you felt like a kid staring through the window of a candy shop. Tsk, how ridiculous.

“I…I’m glad you are well…”

You turn back to the fragile sound of that voice. “It…I was happy to get your call…and you suddenly asking to meet me. I felt nervous…I don’t know why.”

Surprise was well written on your face at her words. This was not what you were expecting.

“And I…” She coughs as if her voice was raspy. “How have you been? H-how’s Jimin? I hope he’s taking care of you.”

She smiles then. A slight, delicate smile as she looks you in the eyes. This is not what you were expecting. Not from the woman who’s only given you cold shoulders when you’ve asked for warm arms.  

All you could think about was how she was never home for your birthday and the one time she was, you overheard her call it just another rest day on the phone with her coworker. All you could remember was asking her if she would come to your recital and she never showed, so you just sat there after the choir concert watching all the other kid take pictures and receive flowers from their family. All you could call upon was the time she forgot to feed you for almost a week, which was what made you begin cooking.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you utter the thorn pressing against your brain.

“Jimin left.”

Her smile takes a second to drop. The color of her face wearing off as her eyes widen. Jaw parting as she looks at you, like a worried, petrified mother. It almost made you laugh.

“W…What?”

Concern laced her tongue and you felt anger as a natural reaction. This wasn’t it – it wasn’t how you were expecting this to go. The person you remember, the person instilled into your core would have sighed in disappointment. Gave you a cold look and a wintery frown. Told you she warned you. Why was she suddenly acting this way?

“_-”

“H-he left mom.” You say, your voice choking up, “You were right, once again. He left me, just like you said. Aren’t you happy?”

You spit the question with venom, your eyes welling up.

“___.” She repeats in that same pitiful tone. It sparked more fury inside of you.

“Aren’t you happy?!” You ask a little louder, the neighboring tables giving you a glance. “I’ll be signing divorce papers soon. You were right all along!”

“N-no, no.” She shakes her head, seeming as distraught as you. Who was this person in your mother body? Wearing your mother’s face.

“What, why?” You sneer, “Have I done something to upset you again, like I don’t know ask for some fucking food?”

“___, no. Oh my God, no.” She was crying.  

It was getting hard to see as you shook in your seat. The weight of the world felt like it was on your shoulder. And as you stared at the weeping lady in front of you, you felt like a child again. A child who hid under the bed, crying because of the thunder. Desperately wanting her mother to come home. But she never came.

“I hate you.” Your tough voice broke, “I hated you so much…I never knew how much I hated you until I found Jimin…even if his love was fake at least he acted like he cared. Why couldn’t you just fucking act?”

She begins to tremble. Fuck.

“I know…how much dad hurt you, but why did you have to hurt me? I needed you. I needed you, mom. I spent every single day trying to live up to what I thought were your expectations, I thought I had to earn your love. I thought-” You take a moment, shutting your eyes and feeling the aching beat of your heart. “I thought if I was the perfect child- if I didn’t cause you trouble, if I was quiet and stayed out of trouble y-you would at least smile my way. And still you didn’t…all of my accomplishments, all of the things I so hard worked for vanished just like that…”

“Tell me…why did you…abandon me?” You look at her and for the first time something feels different, although your heart continues to constrict. She looks so small in her light earthy dress, straining her shoulders and shaking her head.

“I am so sorry ___. I am so, so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, ___. I am so sorry.”

“But more than you I hate myself.” You continue, ignoring the sear of pain on her face with every word. “I hate that I can never be perfect for anyone, I hate that I can’t have a normal conversation without second guessing everything. I can’t even ask someone for help without having a mild panic attack! Did you know that? I hate how I am so sad and weak all the fucking time. I hate me, I hate me.”

“___, please, please don’t say that. Please.”

“Why, huh? So you can pretend to have a normal daughter, if you want to pretend I even exist today-”

“NO!” She screams making you silent. You could hear the whispering of the tables around you, but you pay it no mind. They were the lucky ones, they wouldn’t understand. “So you don’t turn out like me.”

“…What?”

She exhales deeply, her face morphed into anguish, “I never wanted you to be like me, ___. Never. Y-your father made so many promises to me, told me he loved me so much. I was a shy, quiet conservative woman who fell into his trap. Then one day he just got up and left. A-and I was so stuck I didn’t know what to do! No one taught me how to raise a child, I had no guidance, no family and barely any money.”

You listen to her silently. The air was thick and her breathing rapid. For some reason you really wanted to dry her tears.

“A-And then you w-were born. B-but every time I looked at you…I remembered what your father did. I remembered that I never wanted a child. I remembered that because of you…I couldn’t go anywhere and do anything, and I was trapped in the same damned town for the rest of my miserable days. I was so lonely and ashamed…I couldn’t hate you though…I tried but you were so small and fragile I just couldn’t. Yet it was easy to pretend you didn’t exist. So, I did just that…to help me cope, I pretended you weren’t there. That I never met a man like your father and he never betrayed me…”

She looks at her hands, “But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have have…but I realized it too late…when you already met Jimin…”  

You tense.

“Since the start…he reminded me of your father, and it terrified me. I was so scared for you, and I tried to get you not to marry him. But you hated me, and it was all my fault. You sought for the love I couldn’t give you so desperately, that it was easy for you to fall victim to someone who wanted to take advantage of you. I prayed for you…for your relationship every day, I wanted to be wrong so bad…I did ___.” She looks up at you with a frantic gaze. “I never wanted you to be like me, never ever. I did so many horrible things to you. I’m so sorry ___. I’m so sorry. I know you can never forgive me, and that will live with me for the rest of my days.”

Your mom looks back down. Her expression empty and tears still. It seems like she let out all she wanted to say and now she was a ghost. There was nothing in her…nothing. She reminded you of herself, which is why you said the next words.

“I can’t forgive you…” You speak softly and she winces. “The young me…can’t forgive you. The one who was subjected to your neglect. The innocent child striving for a mere ounce of love and affection. The part of me that you disregarded every day until even I questioned if I existed. I can’t.”

She physically deflated, as if agreeing with your sentiments.

“But-” You interrupt her acceptance, “The me now…the me growing and changing and evolving every single day. The me who’s learned to be happier…who’s learning how to find herself and converse with others…the me who has learned to heal…that me. I…can forgive you.”

And you watch her as she takes a moment. Looking up at you like a star just exploded.  

“I can forgive you, mom.”

The next moments were a blur. She seemed extremely please, beyond ecstatic and you felt for her. Especially when she cried like a baby, and you think she was the child now. You mother was the small one now, the one who needed your love. And you weren’t going to be someone who repeats her mistakes. Everything you said to her was true. You could forgive her now. It would take some time, but strangely you understood her.

If Jimin left you with a child, you would have the hardest time acknowledging it. All the pain you would feel could be unintentionally directed at it. You were so glad you weren’t in her shoes. They were bigger than you could imagine. As you breathe out, you feel it all leave you. The resentment you’ve held onto for years. The resentment that grew too heavy for you to carry.

It was lifted off your back and you could breathe again. There were traces of bitterness left, staining the deepest corners, but you will work on washing them out.

“I…know it’s too late…but I will try to be better ___.” She looks at you with her swollen eyes. It was as of you were staring at your reflection.  

“I think you already are.” You say with a smile, directed more to yourself.

You really were your mother’s daughter.

_

It was silence once again.

A screaming silence, that woke your inner most core as you step into the vacant apartment. You were so tired. The meeting with your mom ran longer than you thought and now you just wanted to drown into your bed. Taking off your coat, you hang it by the rack before changing into your slippers. Without a second thought, you bee line for your bed room ready to sleep today off.  

But you halt in your tracks as you notice something on the dining table a few feet from you. A stack of white papers. You look around you, as if searching for someone before you look back at the table once again. It had been a few weeks since that night. Jimin would come by when you weren’t around, take more of his stuff and leave. Half of you was wondering why he was taking his sweet time and torturing you…the other half was yearning for as much time with him as possible.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly make your way to the dining table. Every single inch of this space had so many memories attached to it. Each step felt like reliving it all again. Once you bump into a dining chair, you can read the letters as bold as day.  

Divorce papers.

Oh.

Jimin was working quicker than you thought. You expected his, but not this soon. It hit you then. That you didn’t realize how real of this was until this very moment, as you reread those big black letters in the stiffest font. This was real, it was happening.

Jimin was finally going to leave you.

That’s right, he gets to leave. While you were stuck washing out the resentment.

So, you let out a breathless laugh. One after the other until you were full on laughing at the situation. Oh my God, you tried so hard and for what? You tore yourself up and for who? There was nothing left of you, you gave it all away and what did that get you in return.

You were so crazy stupid, it was insane. You actually apologized when Jimin cheated on you. You forgave him multiple times. You starved yourself, you loathed yourself, you killed the young girl just wanting honest love and respect inside of you. And you cried until your eyes broke and you’re crying now.

You’re crying for the girl who once stood in that mirror, pinching every ounce of her skin till it bruised. Scourging herself for never being good enough. You’re crying for your lost dignity, handing it to someone with clumsy hands you thought were loyal. You’re crying at how you lost who you were, not only in the longest seven years of your life, but ever since you were born. You’re crying because that’s all you ever did for you.

How different life would have been if your mother had taught you how to love yourself? If her mother had taught her how to love herself? If the men in your lives didn’t continue to ravage you of all you could offer. It felt like some sort of curse.

Which is why you fell to the floor to let it all out. The tremendous pain and grief that built over the years, the horrible conditions of your body and mind. Every single pore had to leak, only then you would truly be free.

You’re crying because you wasted your life away. You’re crying because you treated yourself this way, when you didn’t deserve anything but love, trust, and honesty.

You’re crying because you learned too late of what – who you should have loved.

You were crying because your book wasn't written by you, but by somehow who couldn’t care less about you.

You are crying because of what is and what isn’t.

And trust me when I say, you’re crying for the last time.  

_

You woke up today and the ache was still there, that mind numbing helpless feeling of isolation.  

But instead of that horrible drilling pain to the brain, it was a small tremor in the back of your head. And for the most part, you could ignore it. Sauntering down the hall with your many files, you stop in front of the large wooden door and stare at the name plaque. The morning air felt fresh. Maybe that was why you took so many deep breaths. And another one, before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You hear an easy-going voice and you open the heavy door carefully.

“Ah! ___, I was just about to call you! Great job at that meeting by the way, you really wowed the investors.”

Your boss sat relaxed at the front of the vast room, in the middle of her bulky brown desk like some sort of royal.

“Thank you.” You smile, stepping into her large office. The air was cooler in here and a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden chill that intruded your light purple blouse. Your skin erupted in small goosebumps, both from the temperature and the sights of your grinning boss.

Not that you didn’t want to see it, you were just so unsure of what to do when it would inevitably fade at the news you were about to share. It’s what you’ve been scarred of from your whole life, the thought of disappointing an authority figure. But seeing as how two-thirds of them disappointed you instead, you really could not care anymore at this point.

She watches you pace your way up to her desk, small inquisitiveness in her wide set eyes.

“Did you have something for me?” She asks, pointing to the files in your hand with her gaze.

“Oh, these-” You put down the big stack of gray folders in front of her, “This is just something you have to look over.”

“I see. And what about that?”

Your grip tightens around the envelope in your now empty hands. “T…This is…my resignation letter.”

Her stare shifts from the envelope to you, mouth parting to display her surprise.

“Resignation?”

Throughout your life you always thought your body was a strange one. The length of the reactions you felt had to be abnormal, you continuously believed it. Do others feel this cold when they are alone? Do others feel this upset at the sun for rising? Do they feel the deep ache of the tragic finale that was the last 7 years? You sure did. But you still got up, you still made it out of that wretched house that was too bare to bear, and you kept it moving. And to you, that’s what matters.

There was so much thinking you did last night, so many thoughts flew in and around your head. You wonder how others reflect back on their life. What regrets do they swallow, what makes them laugh the loudest? What parts do they cry the hardest and who do they miss?

You couldn’t tell, you’d only been you the past 7 years. It was useless to sonder. So you didn’t, instead you thought about who you were. On that cold floor of the house you cemented with your naïve heart, tears dried by the very air you hated, you thought about the past seven years.

And the past 4 months.

The rooftop, the club, the people in your life, the people not, the heart break, the longing. You had always been analytical, and it was safe to say you had found the answer you sought.

It was funny how the answer became so clear once you only thought about yourself, obscuring yourself from other’s needs for the very first time.  

“Yes.” You state undoubtedly, cold long forgotten. “I’m resigning.”

Another sigh as you leave the room. But this one was of relief. Although a bit upset at losing her best employee, she had taken the news surprisingly well. She even encouraged you when you told her what you were planning to do after this. Irene would be glad to hear that.

Although the pain was there, it didn’t have a hold on you anymore. You wouldn’t allow it to.

“There you are!” You hear, jumping in your spot as your palm was still on your boss’ door handle.

As you look up, a handsome young man with bunny-esque features jogs up to you. His left arm was behind his back, concealing something from your vision. All you could focus on was the strain it caused his muscles.

“I was looking for you,” He comes up close and you could hear his rapid breathing. His lavender scent gentle invades your space. You look at him curiously, watching the way his face falls as he realizes where you stood, “Hey, were you meeting the CEO? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

The fact that he seemed genuinely concerned made you laugh. “I’m not.”

He exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank God, didn’t want you getting fired for being in love with me.”

For the longest time you had been avoiding him. Ever since thinking of him in that way, you ran away from wherever you spotted him. Yet you had forgotten how easy-going he was. How effortlessly he made you laugh.

“Pfft, please.” You scrunch your nose, “You’re a goofball.”

He just stares at you, a wide smile present on his face. Tilting your head to the side, you squint at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, you just…seem different today…from last time I mean.”

“In a bad way?”  

“No!” He shouts flustered, “I-in g- a good way! You seem relaxed.”

You break out into a laugh. He really was the brightest employee. It was a shame you didn’t get to spend more time with him.  

“Thank you.” You say, as you watch him blush fondly. “I feel different. Relaxed, I guess.”

I’m no longer cold.

His gaze travels down, as if he had something he wanted to say. Your eyebrow quirks at him when you remember he still had his arm behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” You ask with a sneaky smirk.

He grins back at you, displaying his large teeth. Biting his bottom lip, he swings his arm out,  

“Tah-dah!”

There were suddenly a bundle of white roses in front of you, a gentle scent of freshness blew past you. You subconsciously took a long whiff, the pure layered petals creating a picture-esque image. Once your surprise passed, you were left doubtful.

A part of you had forgotten the bet.

“Roses?”

“Yup.” The man holding the bundle up to your face beamed

Scoffing, you place your hands on your hips. “Are you kidding? You expect me to believe you found roses around the building?

“But I did.” He pouts, and for a second you were ready to blindly believe him. Until you caught ahold of yourself. This lying brat!

“Where exactly did you find these beautifully healthy flowers, hmm? The backwall where even weeds don’t grow?”

“Yes, actually.” He states just as proudly, “I planted them.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “You did what?!”

He moves closer to you, you could feel his breath hitting you as his face was adjacent with yours. “I. Planted. Them.”

“T-that’s…Y-y-you ca-”

“Why not?” He asks with a mischievous glint in his eye, “The bet was to find flowers on the property, it doesn’t matter where they came from. And like you said, there’s some gorgeous land on the backwall.”

Your jaw drops slightly at his reasonings. You wanted to continue arguing but instead you just stood there watching him giggle in the most adorable way.

“You wanted pretty flowers, I got you pretty flowers.” He winks, handing you the roses. “Think of it as a one-month anniversary gift.”

Oh, right. He still thought you were new here.

His naivety makes you burst into laughter, the first genuinely happy expression you’ve made in months. It was mystery at first, but now you knew now why you liked him so much. The youthful nature, the sincerity he displayed was alluring. You didn’t have to be any front you had put up in the past in front of him, instead you were just another person. Someone normal for once.

“Thank you Jungkook.” You laugh as he proudly holds up his nose. Just as your eyes twinkle upon him, you recall upon something suddenly. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a small piece of paper, your number scribbled on it long ago. Honestly, you couldn’t help but like him.

“Here. You earned it.”

He looks at your hand extending the paper, as your other holds the roses close to your heart. His heart beat quickens at the sight, you were so graceful and effortlessly beautiful, he wanted to know you more and more. Jungkook knew when he first saw you, the traces of a secret battle all across your face. Although he didn’t want to pry, he couldn’t help but let his heart be captured by the silent beauty that shone from you as natural as daylight.

“Thank you.” He mutters, his ears turning red.

While you look at him staring at your digits in awe, you found him to be an absolutely enchanting man. And you wanted him to know that, so you step up to him, softly connecting your lips with his cheek. You could feel him freeze under you, and it made you feel enthralled. It was nice, being in control for once.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

With that you sauntered down the hall, almost turning the corner before you hear his melodious tone stutter out to you. “T-this Saturday? It’s a date!”

Although surprised, you said nothing, just continuing to walk along the hallway. But you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face, thankfully obstructed from him, of course. You felt giddy all the way back to your office. Once you were there, you squealed in glee.

Through your small jumps and smiles, your phone rang, startling you. Already? You thought before checking the caller ID. In a flash your beam dropped, orbs beholding the name anxiously. How did he get your number? With a hasty sigh to calm you nerves, and an oddly guilty feeling, you decidedly answer the call.

“Hello…Yoongi?

Meanwhile, back at your boss’ hallway, a certain bunny boy hadn’t moved an inch. Argh, he felt so stupid. Why did he ask you out so fast? The plan was to first call you, maybe get to know you. But somehow, when you told him you’d see him around, it felt like a goodbye…the forever type. His gut told him he had to act quickly.

You didn’t even respond though…wow he felt dumb. Huffing, he rubs his face with his oversized hands. He didn’t blow it, did he? Should he call you tonight to make sure? Did you even want him to call? Well, obviously, you gave him your number!

As he was faced with a silent moral dilemma, he fails to register a young woman pacing up to him.

“Hello?”

He jumps with a small scream, which has the lady confused. She recognizes him though, he must’ve been one of the new recruits. Yes, the overly enthusiastic one.

“Umm, Mr. Jeon, right? You were just speaking to the supervisor, weren’t you? Can you give her this last gray file for me, please? I forgot to hand it to her.” With that the lady clacks away in a rush.

Jungkook stares at the file. She must have been talking about you. He smiles, thinking this gave him a valid reason to look for you again without seeming like a creep. This time, he’ll be more suave – more stress-free with his methods. This time, he’ll have his answer. The stretchy smile soon disappears, however, once the lady’s words fully register in his mind.

Did she just say supervisor?!

It was subtle really, blink once and you’d miss it.

Jimin softly shut the door behind him, looking into the dim living room he never quite got used to.

Did this place always feel so empty? He thought, staring at the walls with disinterest. He’s never had to be in here alone, he realizes. You were always here to warm the spaces between the loneliness.

But who was here to warm you?

It didn’t matter anymore – you didn’t matter anymore. You had changed, you weren’t the person Jimin agreed to marry. The you now weren’t someone he recognized. Time passes by too fast; he couldn’t keep up with it anymore. That’s why he wanted to end it with you as quickly as he could. Wasn’t it just yesterday he was confronted by you? Was it yesterday when he broke everything off?

He really couldn’t remember.

Oh, but his body sure did. His face grew thinner every day, arms losing the vitality his lithe limbs always presented. It was like his body realized you were leaving him and began a protest of its own. No one from college would recognize the Jimin he was now, the one who started to speak a little less. The one who stiffened his neck and sagged his shoulders. This wasn’t their Jimin.

As he stared off at the dining table, his mind recalls upon that rainy night. Where the distance between you started to grow like poisonous gas. It was the first time he felt the detachment from your side, since before you had always made yourself emotionally and physically available to him. Needless to say, he abhorred it, he hated what you had become. All without understanding the irony.

Jimin was someone who never understood his faults, too busy picking out the mistakes of others. Another thing he slighted in was confrontation, because he’s never been called out. Only when he looked in the mirror recently did he have the worst of days, lashing out at himself, at Tina at his friends and coworkers. Yes, he kept himself quite busy. Everyone was beginning to leave him, and he was getting desperate. Running his hands through his hair, he starts to trudge towards the bedroom. He was exhausted, shifting between work, leaving you and consoling Tina. His scandalous lover wanted to make a life with him, he just wanted to rest, maybe for a month or two. It’s alright though, he could just keep himself in her safety for a while before running off to whatever new toy he found next.  

Once he’s inside the bedroom, he freezes involuntarily. The sight of the familiar place had his heart yearning. It made him angry, that feeling of attachment he could possibly have connected to you. You were nothing to him and these days you were a headache to deal with. He gave seven years to you, you should’ve been grateful. Now he just missed the old you, the you who would follow him blindly. Jimin wasn’t made to be questioned.

So why did he feel like puking his guts out onto the floor? Why did it wound him to blink? Face it, the voice inside sneers at him. You love. Someone like her. You’re pathetic.

No, he doesn’t.

Yet he recalls upon another buried memoir. When he first started dating you, he slept with another girl in the same week. That’s what he did to all the girls he ‘dated,’ it turned him on to know people desired even if he was ‘taken.’ It was then as he held the other woman asleep in his arms, you texted him ‘goodnight’ and a bizarre feeling came over him. Guilt. He became so afraid, he ignored you for a week. Until he yearned to see you again. And why exactly should Jimin deny himself of anything he seeks? The same situation occurred a few more times, till it became a habit like alcohol. Although it may burn the next day, in that moment you enjoy the carnal pleasure for what it was. Pleasure.

He would never admit that other women never gave him the same sensation anymore, that you and the vanilla and wholesome sex meant everything to him at some point. Never, ever. Because he didn’t love you. The beating in his head couldn’t convince him otherwise.

In all honesty, he didn’t have an answer himself. Why did Jimin marry you? He didn’t love you…you just asked him about it once. Subtly hinting to marriage when asking him about what his thoughts on it were. Of course, you’d want commitment, every damn bitch wants commitment. And in that moment, he should have shut you down. Should have used his charms to make your place clear to you. Yet he didn’t have it in him to hurt you. Instead he proposed to you the next week, thinking that you’d vanish like the other girls when he made his intentions clear. But why? Why were you the only one different? It wasn’t like he loved you.

He didn’t.

Which is why it was easy for him break it off with you, wasn’t it? So easy, that he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.  

He was on the brink, his conscious just needed a little more push to take over.

Jimin wasn’t here for anything big today. Just searching for a custom J pendant he seemed to have lost a while back. Sadly, he didn’t know if it was you or not – he didn’t know where it was at all actually. Maybe he left it here, maybe he left it with another faceless girl he fucked senseless. As soon as he forces himself back to reality, he begins to look around. He was already late today, and you would be home soon…he didn’t want to run into you again.

Cluttering about, a bit staggered from his lack of forte, he steps up to the bedside drawer in one swift motion. He pulls open the drawer, running his fingers through all the items present inside. It was then that he stumbled upon a letter.

Marked with his name.

He couldn’t help but feel curious, drawn to your timid handwriting on the otherwise blank paper. Picking it up, he opens it to find hundreds of words scribbled together. Although the words were slightly messy, there were no mistakes he spotted, leading him to think you must have rewritten the letter a thousand times.

His breath was in his lungs, his feet glued to the floor. Something inside him wanted to put it back – leave it alone, his nauseous gut giving him another warning. But he began to read it anyway. Because why should Jimin be denied from anything he seeks?

Dear Jimin, the letter began and Jimin’s eyebrow twitched.

I’m not sure how to write this. I’ve rewrote it so many times already my wrist hurts. But I do want to tell you all of this, and as I am not the best at conversing my thoughts across, I would rather jot them all down. In hopes that my heart could reach you through them.

I’ve recently done a lot of stuff I never thought were possible for me. I made a friend, I learned a new interest, I took up therapy. There’s so much I want to talk about! But I’ll keep it short. Even through everything I did, I thought of you. Every corner I turned; ever route I took. Somehow, I felt you were on the other side, waiting for me.

No matter what anyone said, it didn’t mean anything to me. Just you, Jimin. And I realized, how much I need you. How I can’t lose you. I lost my mother Jimin, I lost her because I wasn’t perfect, and I know, to you I am not perfect.

But to me, you’re perfect Jimin. Which is why I don’t care what anyone says. I’m scared of coming home lost and cold, I’m scared of losing my home, which is you. I know I haven’t been great to you these past few days and the truth is I was hurt. I was alone and scared, but I should have known...I should have remembered who you are to me.

These past few years I am beyond grateful for. Thank you for spending your days growing old with me. I remember all the little stuff. Like that time, we went to the theater and you ordered too much popcorn and the aftertaste of the butter lasted in your mouth for a week. You always said me kissing you made the taste a bit more bearable. Or what about that time I got malaria and you stayed up for three days with me in the hospital? I have never seen you so scared.

That’s our love, Jimin. Those days mean so much to me, I wish you would remember them.

No person can get between us, Jimin. I won’t allow them. I want to apologize to you; I want to take everything I said back. I’ll be better, Jimin. I’ll remind you why you wanted to marry me.  

I’ll be perfect, Jimin.

So, please. Come home to me...darling.

Sincerely, your loving wife.

The door slammed open and shut, breaking him out of his concentration. Jimin was too immersed, he didn’t even notice how much time had passed. All he did know were of the tears that lingered his sockets. With an aching inhale, he practically ran out of the living room to catch you by the entrance. It was like magic then, you were a sight to behold. A most beautiful fairy.

You were in the middle of removing your heels before you noticed Jimin’s presence. It made you halt in your tracks, your hand still carrying your small pumps. He holds you inside his gaze with such intensity, it makes you gulp. What was he doing here? Had he always looked this sick?

…Was he crying?  

In moments he was upon you, his strong arms molding around your limbs as he exhales into your neck. You were as stiff as a board, confusion and angst swirling your mind.  

“J…Jimin, wha-”

“I love you, ___.”

…

What?

“I love you, I love you ___.” He repeats, moving off you to stare into your eyes. His orbs were bright, glazed but sparkly. All you could do was gape at him.

And in the midst of your shook state, you peak at the letter clasped in his hand.

He follows your gaze, holding up the paper to you.  

“Let me explain.” Jimin pleads, seeming sincere for the first time in…forever. “T-that night, our anniversary night, I wanted to come home to you. I really did. But Tina got into my head with and she...she manipulated me. Into thinking I don’t love my own wife! I was so confused, so instead I decided to listen to my carnal desires once again, push you out of my mind the only way I knew how.”

You were still trying to process everything. Why was he here again? “Wha...what?”

He looks sad just then, beyond exhausted like he was on the brink.

“I love you…___. Everyone’s leaving me these days, but you. You were always there for me.”

“…Jimin…”

“___, I…I have been in a lot of pain since I left. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I missed you so much. I never wanted to admit it, I always ran from it. And you were just…always so understanding…that I never looked back at my actions. Never thought what I was doing might hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

It hit you like a truck. Jimin apologized. This was the Jimin you saw that day after Mina. The vulnerable, broken boy.

“You’ve been coming on so strong…I couldn’t handle it. I thought I finally got the chance to break it off with you and be free…but I was wrong. I was wrong. I love you, ___. I don’t know since when but maybe I always had. And being away from you helped me understand that, the agony I felt. The yearning…I never want to leave home again. Your letter helped me understand! You make me a better person, ___.”

Jimin smiles, “So I’ll stay. I’m home ___. Thank you for bringing me home.”

Once again, he wraps you in his hug, ready to end the night with you in his arms. He finally feels free after so long, the spikes slowly removing themselves off his body. You were his energy, he realizes, you would help him get back on his feet. Finally, everything will be okay again, finally he can have you within his pincers once more. How he’s missed the delicious taste of eating you alive.

But as happy as he feels…he couldn’t help notice you weren’t responding.

Slowly, he unwinds from you, muddled. He takes a look at you, you who didn’t make any face. You who weren’t reacting to him the way he always knew you would.

Instead, you just glared.

It was his turn to be flustered, his turn to take a step back and process everything.

“___?”

“I…don’t love you, Jimin.”

Silence. As if you just dropped a bomb. His eyes widen, before squinting at you.

“W-what? Since when?” He almost sounds offended

“Since just now.”

“…What are you saying, ___.” He scoffs, taking your hand in his. You weren’t wearing your ring…again. “You love me.”

“I don’t.” You say more firmly, removing your hand from his. Jimin just stares at his now empty palm in surprise. “I don’t love you Jimin, and I’m not sorry about it.”

When he doesn’t retort, you sigh. “Jimin, did you know…a few days ago…I heard my secretary on the phone…she was talking to her boyfriend.” Looking down at how close your bodies were, you take a step away from him as courtesy, but you fail to regard the way his face grimaced at your distance. “He told her ‘I love you’ and do you know what she said?”

You look back up at him, and Jimin wonders if you were truly asking him for a second. “She told him ‘I know,’ just like that. Almost like she took it for granted, you know. But I didn’t think of it like that…instead I was jealous of her. Because in her mind, she doesn’t have any doubts that her boyfriend loves her. Which is why she’s able to respond so casually like that…he gives her so much love, that she never has to second guess her answer.”

Giving him a moment to register everything you said, you pause for a bit and smile.

“And Jimin…I have never felt that way with you.”

He winces.

“I have always doubted myself, second guessed your love and honesty. I always thought ‘there’s no way he could love me’ and there was nothing you did to convince me otherwise. But do you know Jimin? Do you know how many times you’ve said, ‘I know’ when I told you how much I love you?”

“_...” His voice dies

“That’s what I want, Jimin. I realize, it’s what I always wanted. That unconditional, blatant love. That’s what I deserve. I went through so much…yet I held onto you still. No matter what anyone said. And if anyone was looking at me right now, into my life, they would think I was crazy. But it was just that I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t do it, I don’t know why. I just couldn’t…”

There was a glimmer of hope in his dark pupils.

“Even in that letter…I held back so much because I was afraid of surprising you. I could never be honest with myself. So that’s why…thank you for letting me go. For leaving me. Do you know how much I accomplished when you left me, how much I couldn’t accomplish in years? I had an actual orgasm, I left my job, I’m going to start a restaurant with my best friend, Jimin, I gave a guy my number.” His face went through many changes; anger, shock, hurt. But you continued on anyway. “All of that, just because you weren’t around poisoning me. Leaving me was the best thing you did for me, Jimin.”

He begins to tear down, tears fall in his eyes and he looks away. His jaw was clenches and his nostrils flared, telling you he was upset. But you didn’t feel satisfied, you didn’t feel happy that he was as hurt as you had been. You felt nothing for him. Maybe except pity.

Carefully, you step closer to him. Taking his face in your palm.  

“And I hope, Jimin, that leaving me helps you as well. That you stop chasing after meaningless convictions and you find whatever it is that can keep you grounded. You’ve hurt a lot of people Jimin, and for that you will suffer a lot as well. Me, all the girls and people you threw away after using. We never could help each other together, but we can help each other apart. It’s going to stab for a while, and you’ll feel as cold for a very long time. But then, I’ll pray for you to learn Jimin. I’ll try.”

And that was that, the ache lingering in your heart, was pushed all the way down to your stomach. It was still there, but not bothering you as much. Not controlling your destiny any longer. In your senses a melody played in the background; a constricted melancholic piano melody dedicated to love, to the happiness and woes.

This man you stared at, the man you once loved for seven whole years, who was he now? He couldn’t be blamed for everything, you had given him chances to hurt you again and again after all. More importantly, who were you? Definitely not the same woman you’d been when you first found out about Jessica. Not Mina. Not even the new one. You were changing, always evolving and you were proud of that.

You really were so thankful that Jimin had decided not to come home that night. That he continuously left you alone, to stand on your own. Because now your legs felt stronger than ever. There were a lot of people you were thankful for, a lot left to confront but this was your story. So good job you. Your love was first and foremost for yourself. Of course, you’ll continue therapy, you’ll work hard to open a new restaurant, you’ll try to give yourself the happiness you always deserved. Not every day would be great, some days you were going to struggle and there would be a lot of tears. But they’ll be your tears, your struggles, your joy, they won’t be based off of some other person’s mood.

This was only the end of Jimin’s chapter. Your real story will begin from today.

You were never going to convince yourself otherwise. Were never going to push down your feelings and act like they didn’t exist. That was the least Jimin had taught you.

It really was nice outside that rotten cocoon.

He was quiet for the first time in ages, and you honestly preferred silence from him. There were a lot of stupid things he said once he opened his mouth. Why should he become a better person from your pain? What kind of creator allows that?

After a moment of staring at his lost soul, you take a deep breath, exhaling softly. You couldn’t stay here too long, Yoongi had called you, getting your number off someone named Joy, asking you to come over to Cypher Road. He wanted to apologize for that night, as well as meet someone. If Jimin needed help, he should go search for it like an adult.

“Ok, umm…finish up whatever you were up to…I have to head out.” You say, turning around. Jimin doesn’t respond, but you couldn’t care less how he feels right now. “And I signed the divorce papers, they are on your shelf in the closet. Tell me when they are finalized, I’ll be free all week.”

You turn the door handle, pulling the door open halfway before remembering something and spinning back to him.  

“Not… Saturday though. I have a date.”

[the-grumpy-panda]

Dollars To Doughnuts, Whatever That Means!

I assume it means I had dollars, but now I have doughnuts. Magic! We'll start this one with some sweet stuff, and hopefully before the impending diabetes takes my foot I'll have time to get into some not so sweet stuff before circling back to the sweets once again for a finishing move. Oof. This might be the point where I acknowledge all this junk food is adversely effecting me. Should I switch to reviewing food that is actually proper and healthy? Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. Maybe I'll just ride it out until the first heart attack. Here we go, then! -Entenmann's Donut Shoppe doughnuts! Entenmann's generally makes good products, so will their attempt to dress up a bit for the party be a boon or a bust? There are three versions out now, and to save some space and time, I'll group them together. There's a Black & White iced doughnut, a Spring Flower iced doughnut and a Party Sprinkled iced doughnut. Only the spring one expressly says "limited edition" but I have no idea if the others are permanent or if this line of product will be one in constant flux. They're all good, but nothing about them is really all that different from normal Entenmann's eats, save for the color of the icing (the flower is pink and the party one is white) and the addition of sprinkles. I did find myself enjoying the Black & White doughnut the most out of the three. If I had to guess it's probably because the other two are glazed AND iced, and then topping them with sprinkles very nearly puts them at "too sweet" levels. -Mississippi Mud Pie Oreos! Is Oreo trying to get sneaky? Is this just a regular chocolate Oreo with a new name? Does the "whipped cream" flavored cream taste different than regular Oreo cream? The answer is... a little bit, but only if you eat the whipped cream half of the cream by itself and really take a moment to analyze it. If eating the cookie as a whole... yup. It tastes like a chocolate Oreo. The whipped cream but gets wholly lost among the chocolate cream and the chocolate cookie. Zoinks. How many times can one person say cream? -Deep Fried Twinkie! I thought these were a Wal Mart exclusive, but I just happened upon them willy-nilly in a local grocer. I guess I'm just lucky like that, he said with a face that would suggest otherwise. A frozen treat that needs to be baked, so they might be stretching the deep fried concept a wee bit, although the cooking instructions do list frying as an option, so maybe I'm just being persnickety. Nonetheless, it's a Twinkie covered in a batter of sorts, and I chose to bake it to keep things as simple and mess free as possible. It comes out smelling of a warm cake doughnut, so it's off to a good start. All in all, it rather tastes like a funnel cake. The Twinkie aspect is hardly noticeable. I like funnel cake, so that's fine, but ultimately this isn't as fun as it should have been. Maybe the experience would be better served if one ate a deep fried Twinkie at some sort of festival, where it would presumably be some semblance of "fresh", but that's for you to tell me about. Eventually I'll finish off the box, but I imagine they'll linger in my freezer until I have no other sweets to satiate my cravings. -Deep Fried Banana Twinkie! Another version? Yep. There's also a chocolate one, but the store didn't have those. This one has some sort of graham cracker coating. If it weren't for the darker coloring and the box saying so, I don't think I'd ever have noticed any difference at first. These want very badly to taste like a caramelized banana. It gets close enough to remind you of that superior treat, but doesn't quite master the connection, and I think it's the coating that hinders this one. It's not bad all things considered, but I don't foresee myself going back for another anytime soon. Crunchy chippy time! -Lay's BLT potato chips! Smell faintly of a smoked barbecue chip, but one that was left out and is now old and stale. The chip is festooned with all kinds of specks that I assume is what the ingredient list claims is simply "BLT Seasoning" but no real flavor comes through. This is another in a series of recent snack foods that simply fail to taste like anything other than the most basic aspect of the item. Meaning these merely taste like a potato chip. Where's the bacon? Where's the tomato? Two flavors easily concocted in other snacks. Hell, where's the lettuce? If you can make pickle flavor into a chip, you can do lettuce. But you probably wouldn't anyway, so I can forgive the lettuce flavor being missing. No one is buying this chip for lettuce flavoring. Maybe my hopes were up to high for this one, but they disappointed me all the same. -Lay's Lime & Sea Salt potato chips! The smell is distinctly lime and sea salt, so that's a good sign. Definitely a lime flavor all over these, with a light trace of salt. Not bad. I've never had dry margarita mix, but I imagine it might taste like this chip. I like these. Not overpowering at all. You pop 'em in, have a fun moment, and then the taste casually goes away, leaving you wanting more. I probably would have eaten the whole bag were it not for making a conscious decision not to. -Lay's Kettle Cooked Sweet Chili & Sour Cream potato chips! Delectably crunchy! I love me a kettle cooked chip. I don't know the science behind what makes them come out different, but I heartily approve. Fortunately for me, I'm not getting a strong sour cream flavor here. I like sour cream the condiment fine, but for some reason it never translates all that well onto a chip for me. These chips mostly taste of the sweet chili, and it's pretty good. A nice little kick that isn't too hot, it doesn't burn the palate, it just pats your taste buds a top o' the morning, and carries on about its business. Maybe the sour cream aspect is the silent handyman behind these not being too hot. A cooling down flavor barely noticeable? Could be! You know, now I want to dip these into actual sour cream and try them that way. Again, I had to make myself not eat the whole bag. Even harder to put down than the lime and sea salt ones. Two out of three ain't bad, as they say. Good work here, Lays! -Pringles Loud Super Cheesy Italian chips! Are Pringles classified as chips? I don't think I've ever thought they were. If you say "Go get me some chips." you'll get some form of potato chip. Tortilla chips get specified, and if you want Pringles, you specify Pringles. So what are they??? Anyway, I don'y know what 'loud' is supposed to mean. Oh, wait. The top of the can says "Bold Flavor. Epic Crunch." Okay, then. These smell like gym socks. These taste like an old corn chip dipped in old sink water in a dingy restaurant with a weird 'wheaty' aftertaste. Gross. -Pringles Loud Spicy Queso chip things! These smell like that gross and fake nacho cheese sauce concoction that I simply don't like, and it's a condiment that makes any item it's put on or any item dipped in it immediately sad. Not a good start for these. Yup. they taste like a tortilla that was dipped into a spicy nacho cheese sauce and left on the counter to dry out and get extra gross. No thank you, Pringles Loud!   Now back to sweet! Oh, sugar... you sweet talking killer, you. -Pillsbury S'mores Mini Pies! These are definitely mini, and come out of the package looking like a flat cookies and cream dough of some sort. Ever have a Toaster Strudel? These s'more pies come with a frosting packet just like those do, only in chocolate flavor. Damn it, Pillsbury. I buy junk food to avoid effort. Why do you make me frost my own coffin sweets? Baking it certainly puffs it up, and it smells of a s'more, and that's just fine. The taste is merely chocolate and graham cracker, which isn't to say that's bad. There is a marshmallow component clearly visible on the inside, but the flavor is completely overshadowed by the other two and while the marshmallow aids in keeping the treat from being too dry, the taste element is sadly missed. Oops, wait a second. Eating a bite from the dead center of this brings the marshmallow into play. That was a good bite. Maybe I didn't bake it long enough to get the marshmallow oozy and gooey properly, or maybe they skimped on the marshmallow. Jinkies. How many times can one person say marshmallow? All in all, not bad. I think it might be more of a treat best served in winter, though. Let's break norm here and venture into what technically passes as breakfast items nowadays. I don't agree with that assessment, as I know junk food when I see it, but who am I to argue with decades upon decades of contrary opinions and sales facts. -Eggo Chocolatey Chip Banana frozen waffles! I've never been fond of frozen waffles. Just cardboard to me. Will this iteration be any different? Right out of the box they smell like a banana split sundae, so that was surprising and pleasant. Taste wise... they taste like a banana flavored frozen waffle with chocolate chips. I'm not sure how I feel about these, truth be told. I'm impressed that they were able to get two distinct flavors to come out with neither being too faint or too overpowering. It's right on the mark, but it still leaves me with a sad frozen waffle flavor at the end of it all, which I just don't like. As far as frozen waffles go, I must admit these are the best I've had (which isn't many) but I don't think they've quite convinced me I may have been wrong about frozen waffles all this time. -Kellogg's Disney Princess cereal! I... don't know why I bought this. It jumped out at me for reasons undecipherable. Never let it be said that bright packaging and cute cartoon ladies aren't a direct marketing ploy, even to a grumpy ol' panda such as myself. Kellogg's, you evil geniuses! A heart shaped, strawberry flavored cereal with marshmallows. They don't taste like strawberry, though. Rather, it's more akin to a slightly sweeter Lucky Charms. I'm not sure what the two marshmallow shapes are supposed to be. A tiara and a flower? Or a Gremlin claw and a demon summoning amulet. Yeah, that sounds about right. Okay, then. Time to find something manly to do to offset this cereal purchase. My eyebrows have been needing some plucking and shaping. Cream. Marshmallow.