Chapter Text
The next day, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. You wake up to find the space in the huge bed empty, the sheets cold. He'd been gone for a while. You roll back over and crack an eye open to check your phone, the sudden artificial light burning your eyes and making you squint.
Gone out with the boys. Will be back later.
No kisses.
You place the phone back on the nightstand and decide to sleep for another hour or so before going through the motions of your daily routine. You stay in bed well until afternoon, the absence of a jarring alarm pleasant, yet unusual. You decide to visit the spa today – finally – and treat yourself to a mani-pedi.
It was a sure way to spend time away from Jungkook during the day, as he would be occupied all night attending a company dinner in regards to his solo promotions. This was, essentially, the purpose of your trip; although you still failed to see why you had to accompany him, as you weren't going to be attending the dinner yourself anyway. The ballroom on the resort had been booked out for weeks in advance and you could see its castle-like structure peeping from behind one of the hills from your villa.
The spa is an airy, open space made of glass walls, neutral coloured stones and open, flowing doorways. Organic plants, mostly orchids, sit potted in dark soil in the corner of almost every room, adding a splash of elegance. You're assigned your own personal assistant during your time there and make the most out of the serene environment. Because of the hot weather outside, the spa is only half full with women in gowns and towels wrapped around their heads. Some are in swimwear, sitting rather reserved in the mild pool water.
After getting a full body massage and face mask, you head over to the salon to get your nails done. You sit across the table from the nail technician while she shows you a portfolio of elaborate designs, all colourful and classy in their own way. You decide to settle for the traditional French manicure, not being the one for gaudy designs anyway. She gets to work on treating your hands and then applying the acrylic nails.
“…eous.” You hear her say from behind her work mask.
“Sorry?”
“Your ring,” she tugs her mask down. “It's gorgeous. I've seen my fair share of wedding rings and all but this is probably the prettiest I've seen.”
“Thank you,” you smile gently, not really wanting to make small talk with anyone. You feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans but decide to ignore it.
“How long have you been married?” When you don't answer straight away she apologises, clearly flustered by her own bold question and ducks her head down to focus on your hand instead. “I mean it's not my place to ask, I just-”
“It's ok,” you rub at your cheek with the back of your manicured hand, not wanting to ruin the work done. “Five years today.”
Your phone vibrates again.
“Oh! Happy anniversary! Your husband picked the right place to spend it, I couldn’t think of anywhere else to be on my wedding anniversary.” She sighs, pausing her handiwork and gazing into the distance. “What it must feel like to have a husband like yours.”
You don't say anything, not wanting to spoil her dreams or taint her ideas of what she thought marriage was like. You don't correct her, because you want to believe a marriage like yours is only one in a million, and that not everyone who decides to tie the knot ends up miserable and wanting something else, merely a year after saying their vows. You don't mention the fact that, no, Jungkook hadn't brought you here to celebrate your five year anniversary but in fact had brought you here as an accessory to brag about and show off, as if you were some sort of prized object. You don't even mention the fact that Jungkook had completely forgotten your anniversary and that this was just your way of suppressing the complicated emotions stirring in your heart.
But it came as a surprise to you too, that you had only remembered the special day, today. It wasn't something you looked forward to anymore, it wasn't something you enjoyed. You'd stopped celebrating after three years because really, what was there to celebrate?; a year of the ideal life and another four of tolerating each other. And it isn't as if you’re staying with him for his money, you have enough of your own from the job you work; but you wonder why you had never pushed for a divorce. Perhaps it was easier to settle for something, even if it didn't make you happy, because the emotional demand of a divorce was something you knew the two of you couldn't handle.
The technician finishes the manicure and after a brief late lunch in the café you make your way back to the villa. The air is thick and muggy, hugging your skin and forcing its way into your lungs. You feel the slight itch at the back of your throat and know that a bad bout of hay fever is due to come soon. You hurry along the path, watching the sun set behind the golf players on the hills. You wonder if Jungkook is home.
You push open the glass panelled door, admiring the way your nails look, and throw your bag on the floor. The house was silent. Not a surprise. You stand there in the hallway, unsure about what to do with yourself. Normal couples would be spending time together, too busy to think about time alone; yet here you are, an abnormal couple, too busy alone to think about time together.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, surprised to see two messages from an hour or so ago. The first one reads:
Are you home yet?
Jungkook must've come back to get ready for the dinner. It wasn't for another two hours, so where he was now was a mystery to you. The next text, sent five minutes later reads:
I've left something for you in our room. I'd like for you to accompany me tonight for the dinner. Be ready by 8, the dinner is at 9.
It was all well and good but you hadn't brought any attire that was appropriate for a ballroom dinner. The fanciest thing you had was the cocktail dress worn for last night’s dinner. You start to panic, not wanting to let Jungkook down and not wanting to look a hot mess at the event. You knew there would be a lot of media, focusing on the big names but also on you because this would be the first public appearance you'd make as his wife since solo promotions. And even though you'd been pictured together before, this was a new sort of pressure.
You run up the stairs two at a time, wondering if you had enough time to hire a gown. But the time on your phone states you only have two hours and at such short notice, you knew it wouldn't be possible. You start to wrack your brain for an acceptable outfit and almost cry out in frustration when you don't find one.
You barge into the first master bedroom, stopping short when something by the closed balcony doors captures your eye. You blink twice, questioning your own sanity because unless you suddenly had the powers to materialise dresses with only a simple thought, then this couldn't be real.
The emerald ball gown hangs from a padded hanger on the heavy curtain rail, shimmering like water in the sunlight. A silver belt circles the high waistline, and the rest of the satin material fans out underneath, resembling a rich, mossy waterfall. As you approach it you see it has small diamonds planted in the depths of the design and you shake your head, marvelling at the carved beauty. The gown has a V-shaped plunge and sleeves that look like they'll hang off your shoulders. It's a breathtaking garment and you almost don't want to put it on for fear of making it look any less beautiful.
As clever as Jungkook was though, you know you couldn't give all the credit to him. He had most likely asked his mother for advice, knowing she’d love to help. Knowing she'd find the perfect gown. And it really was flawless.
You turn to the bed and spot a small box resting at the foot. A note sits on top, messy handwriting scrawled into the cramped space. You open the box first, finding a necklace and matching earrings. The necklace is made of jade stones, threaded through a wire and separated by silver balls. The biggest stone sits in the centre, cocooned by more metal wire, bent and shaped into an intricate sort of cage. You knew it would be heavy around your neck just by looking at it. The earrings are made of the same stone, only they're shaped into teardrops, also wrapped in twisting wire.
Tears spring to your eyes and maybe, just maybe, you think Jungkook hasn't forgotten. You set the box down and read the note he had left behind.
Wear these tonight.
JK.
~
You arrive at the ballroom fifteen minutes before the dinner is scheduled to start. You still hadn't found Jungkook, and knew you had to so soon before the media and press arrived. You'd seen Seokjin and his wife at the entrance, greeting each other politely, before moving on to continue your search. You didn't have a matching clutch bag, so you'd had to leave your phone at home, unable to call or text him.
You hold your dress up as much as you can, not wanting to soil the hem as you wander the grounds. Ten minutes had passed and you decide to go in without waiting for him. You climb up the steps behind other couples and clench your jaw, hating the fact you were alone.
The ballroom is bigger than you could have ever imagined. The ceiling is as high of that as a church, covered in murals and gold coving, with a grand chandelier hanging from the centre. The floor is marble, like the reception floor, but is cream in colour rather than black. Half of the floor is covered dozens of tables facing the stage in a cabaret seating plan on the other side of the room. The other half is presumably the dance floor, but for now, hosts all the guests milling around in lavish gowns and sharp tuxedoes, nibbling on canapés and sipping champagne. The matching marble pillars sit at the edge of room, holding up the mezzanine levels, accessible from two staircases on opposite sides of the main entrance.
It was quite the venue and you were very impressed, but what was more pressing was the lack of Jungkook’s presence. You stand in crowd, a champagne flute in hand, fiddling with your necklace. You didn't even know where to sit.
“There you are!” Yoongi smiles his gummy smile, looking dashing in his black tux and blonde hair. Two silver hoops hang from his ears and his eyes look smoky.
“Are you… wearing makeup?” You giggle and try to remember the last time you'd seen him all done up.
He rolls his eyes but the smile stays. “Yeah, blame Jimin. Where’s Jungkook?”
“I thought he may have been with you,” you raise your shoulders in a shrug and stare at your full glass.
“You look really great by the way. I didn't know you'd be attending.” He offers his arm and you take it, slowly following the crowd towards the tables. Yoongi is usually a couple or so centimetres taller than you, but in your heels you almost tower over him.
“I didn't know I'd be attending either. Jungkook texted me a couple hours before and here I am. Although I can't see him anywhere.”
You arrive at your designated table, the one right in the middle of all the others with the best view of the stage, and spot the same couples from last nights dinner, with the addition of Taehyung and Seokjin. Yoongi pulls out your chair and waits for you to be seated before tucking you in and taking his own seat two places away.
The lights above you dim and the ones on stage illuminate a podium, stood erect in the middle. A middle aged man approaches and adjusts the microphone to the correct height and clearing his throat. He reads a speech from the papers on the podium, addressing the media, big companies and affiliates that had attended the gathering. He drones on and on and on and you’re afraid you might fall asleep. You feel a headache start at the back of your eyes and try to loosen your up-do without ruining it. Your gaze starts to wander and your lids get heavier with each word the man speaks.
You're jolted back to awareness as Yoongi kicks you under the table, giving you a knowing look and smiling fondly. All of a sudden the room erupts into applause and the man steps away from the podium, welcoming another speaker onto the stage. You clap politely, not really knowing why or caring. Here you were, on your fifth anniversary, attending a corporate dinner for the sake of keeping up appearances instead of celebrating five years together on the shores of some tropical island.
You sigh and watch as the next speaker approaches the podium and your heart lurches, getting stuck in your throat. He looks so tall standing up on the stage like that, looking crisp and clean cut in the specially tailored tux. An earring in the shape of an ankh hangs from his left lobe and a few silver rings adorn his fingers, as well as his wedding band. You watched as he speaks, his skin glowing, his smile bright and you're genuinely pleased to see him so happy, even if it meant you weren't.
“... has been a long journey and of course there have been obstacles left, right and centre. But I want to think of this as a new journey, a path I've never walked down before. I hope to make new memories and have new experiences, and I also sincerely hope that I will continue to receive the love and support I have been receiving from day one.”
You're wide awake now, latching onto every word he speaks. The boys sit at the table with proud smiles on their faces and you don't miss the way Jimin’s eyes glisten as he swipes at them. Your own heart swells and inflates with pride, loving the way he bathed in all the attention.
“I'd like to thank my manager, my producers, all my friends and family. And of course, no bigger thanks is given to anyone else other than to my beautiful wife of five years,” you almost choke on the champagne on your tongue, discreetly covering your mouth and putting the flute back down. He raises his arm to gesture towards you, sat at the table, making a few heads turn. “Who's been with me through every step of the way and who stood by my side no matter how bad things got. Thank you for everything. Happy anniversary, I love you.”
Jungkook steps away from the podium, the spotlight turning to you and you're unsure of what to do as the room erupts again into a noisy applause.
Yoongi leans over while clapping and says quietly, “I think you'd better stand up.” And so you do. You smooth out your dress and check to see the sleeves are in place before smiling for the cameras you know are trained on you. Jungkook has his eyes glued to you, watching you shine in the spotlight and you finally lock gazes for the first time this night. You almost burst into tears, resenting the whole thing. It felt so real. It felt so honest, so genuine in a way that it hadn't felt for years. And you hated that.
You smile a bit more for the cameras, and take your seat once the clapping subsides and another speaker comes out on stage. Jungkook comes down to take his place beside you and this time you plant a kiss on his mouth.
“I'm proud of you, Jungkook.” You say softly into his ear.
He smiles, takes your hand and kisses it, all the while looking into your deep eyes. Yoongi coughs into his hand on Jungkook’s other side and scolds him for not listening. You watch as Jungkook brushes him off, wanting to turn his attention back to you and your eyes well up again though not from resentment this time.
You realise the reason for your tears are not because you hate it all, not because you didn't want to be here. But because Jungkook had remembered. He had remembered your fifth anniversary and he'd let everyone in the room know. He'd let the whole world know. And that spelled hope, no matter how small.
~
You forget everything that evening. Everything that ever made you doubt and any worries that had been playing on your mind since you had arrived here. It was like your brain had been wiped clean, free from every hardship you've had to face with him.
You wined and dined, laughing and smiling and skinship gestures coming naturally to the both of you. You'd seen Yoongi from the corner of your eye watch intensely as if he was looking for something abnormal. But you and Jungkook knew how to play this game better than anybody else, never letting your acts slip, fooling every single person around you.
After the meals are all done and plates wiped clean, Jungkook leads you out to the dance floor, taking up the centre of the space. You can't stand the extra attention but grit your teeth and smile through it regardless. He spins you around gracefully on the ballroom floor, making your dress twirl in an endless sea of green and your earrings sway from your lobes. You catch Hoseok’s eye from his place on the other side of the dance floor and he shoots you a quick, friendly wink.
You find yourself growing tired very quickly and when wine is spilled on the hem of your dress you decide that it is the final straw. You kiss and hug everybody goodnight, but this time Jungkook leaves with you.
You pull away from Yoongi and hold him at arms length, surveying his small frame. “You know, you really have to eat more. Maybe you need a wife to keep you in check.”
You laugh as he heavily protests, claiming he didn't need anyone but himself. You knew whoever was lucky enough to get to Yoongi’s soft heart would have a tough time. “It's good to see things between you and Jungkook have been sorted. Just… don't let him have his way, yeah?”
You nod and give him a final hug before winding through the crowds to get outside. Jungkook is quick to follow, close on your heels, and offers his arm for you to take. You do so while you're still in the vicinity, not wanting to be caught by any secret photographers. Your headache had returned, twice as painful and all you wanted to do now was sleep until this holiday was over. All the pretending was taking its toll, and you weren't sure how much longer you could last.
~
“Did you want a coffee before bed?” He asks, switching on the light as you get through the front door.
You shut it behind you and switch the light back off, kicking your heels off and leaving them on the mat. “No thanks. I just want to sleep this headache away.”
You bunch up the gown in one hand, clearing the way for your feet and trudge upstairs without another word. You yank all the pins keeping you hair in place and brush the hairspray out. You gently remove your jewellery, placing it back in its box and start to wipe your makeup off in front of the en-suite mirror. Jungkook enters the room and hangs his jacket up, loosening his bow tie and ruffling his hair.
You splash water on your face, thinking about the evening you had and how it felt. You'd gotten a taste of what it was like to be normal again, to love again and you'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that the day was ending. But even though you had been in a room full of people, surrounded by a few old friends, new faces and the man who is supposed to be the love of your life… you'd felt lonely.
Empty.
You'd felt suspended in a time you knew wouldn't last, but still hoped it would. You hoped that just one night of fancy food and dancing would make four years’ worth of problems disappear down the drain but you knew things didn't work that way. You knew things would have to change.
You reach around to remove the ornate belt and to unzip the gown, only to have the zip get caught, rendering all your efforts useless. You sigh in frustration and turn around to see how bad it is in the mirror. The small, discreet zip is caught on a piece of fabric close to the teeth. Your hands drop to your sides and you try to wiggle out of it, but it wasn't possible to do so without tearing it.
You bite your lip and hesitate, leaning forward on the sink. “Jungkook,” you call out.
“Yeah?” He responds from the bedroom.
“My… my zipper is stuck,” you still fumble around with it, trying to free the fabric before Jungkook has the chance to appear. His head pokes around the corner from the doorway and he surveys the predicament you seem to have found yourself in. “Please-”
“You want me to… unzip it?”
“Please. I wouldn't ask if I could do it myself.”
He pauses for a moment, pondering.
“Jungkook-”
“Yes. Sorry. Of course,” he pads into the small space and sets to work on freeing the zip. You pull your hair to one side, exposing your back. It's silent once again, the air full of unanswered questions and assumptions. You can feel him tugging in such a way you're afraid he might rip it.
“You, uh,” he pauses, seeming unsure about how to get his words out. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“I did,” you close your eyes, loving the way his voice sounds, knowing he's nervous and scared of being awkward. In many ways he was still just a boy. “I thought you'd forgotten. About our anniversary.”
“I could never. I remember every year.”
“So why haven't we really celebrated it since the first one then?” Your question comes out sounding a little too harsh and accusatory. Not the way you had intended. “I'm sorry, I'm just tired.”
“I feel like you regret marrying me.”
The statement hangs in the air, demanding and almost challenging. You don't feel that way at all. Marrying Jungkook was the best decision you'd made in your life, but things had turned out different and most things had not gone the way you'd expected them to. You couldn't explain this feeling, the unidentifiable thing that made you feel so distant from him. The relationship was like a sparkler, burning bright one second and fizzling out to a burned out stump the next. And you'd both been burned out for too long now.
“I don't regret it.” More words dance on the edge of your tongue, but you swallow them back down, not wanting to make this a bigger problem than it already was.
Jungkook finally manages to safely unzip the rest of the dress, the high pitched sound of the zipper filling the space. You bring your hands up to hold the front of the gown, not wanting it to slip down yet.
“Thank you.” You mutter into your chest. You look up, expecting him to leave but you can still feel his breath on your back, warm and intent. You look at his reflection in the mirror and see he's trying to find the right words to tell you. He brings his hands back up, resting them on your shoulders, stroking your bare skin with the pads of his thumbs.
The contact is so unexpected you almost flinch, your shoulders stiff under his palms.
“Tonight was… you-” You see his jaw clench as he turns away and sighs. “You were amazing.”
You don't respond, too shocked more than anything to produce a coherent sentence, concentrating instead on how his hands felt against you and how his thumbs draw small circles near your spine.
“And you looked gorgeous. Just… words can't describe how stunning you looked. You're perfect.”
You stare, wide-eyed at the taps, not believing your ears. Jungkook had, for the first time in a long time, paid you a compliment. He'd noticed you. He'd acknowledged you. He'd paid attention to you. You can't remember the last time words like that had fallen from his lips and had sounded so genuine at the same time. You turn around, slowly, to face him and find that he's staring at his feet, avoiding any sort of eye contact. His hands fall to his sides, hanging loosely, before coming up again to scratch the back of his head.
“I'm sorry-”
“Don't. Don't be. You looked great too. I really did have fun tonight.” You give him a small smile, hoping it would ease this weird tension hanging in between the both of you. You clutch tighter to your dress. “Like I said I'm just tired, this headache is getting worse.”
He nods firmly. “Of course, sorry. I'll let you get on with it. Get some rest… Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Jungkook,” you whisper.
Only he doesn't leave.
His feet stay planted awkwardly to the floor and as much as he wills them to move, they stay rooted to the tiles. He continues to scratch the back of his head, gnawing at his lip and looking at everything else but your face. You can hear his breath hitch, almost sounding like a whistle.
It’s now or never.
“J-”
“I miss you.” He blurts out, finally making eye contact. And this time he doesn't look away.
“What do you mean?” Your throat swells and suddenly swallowing becomes impossible. You try to blame it on the hay fever, but you know the reason your eyes are watering are because of Jungkook and not because of pollen.
“I miss you,” he repeats, his voice cracking. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and swipes away the first tear to fall. You lean into his hand and close your eyes, letting the rest of the tears fall free, staining the satin. His other hand rests on your shoulder, holding you tight, as if you'd fly away with the next gust of wind.
“I miss you so much.”
And as his hand moves up towards your neck, what happens next is as you expected. He draws in close, eliminating any sort of space between you and pulls you up into a kiss. A simple, sweet peck that turns into an honest open mouth kiss. His lips feel supple, soft yet full of tension and you press closer trying to work the tension away. You’re worried you'll come across as needy, but who were you trying to fool? It was clear you needed Jungkook, and Jungkook needed you just as bad.
Your tears track down your cheeks, running into your mouth and mingling with his, the bitter taste of salt dancing on your tongue. You feel every ounce of emotion that pours from his mouth; sorrow, anger, fear and pure sadness. But amongst all of those, you feel love; the love he held for you in the first year of marriage, and even the love he continued to have for you in the years following that. It melts into you and burns its way down your throat, flowing into your heart and blooming into something bittersweet. Bittersweet but promising.
He bites your lip, as if making sure this was all real, his teeth grazing the pillowy flesh. His hand moves down again to your shoulder, but continues further down south and rests on top of your own, holding the dress up. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, his cheeks glistening with moisture. He holds your gaze, firm and strong-willed as if searching for an answer within the flecks of your irises.
You feel his hand pull at yours slightly, almost as if in question. You tilt your head, yes, and that's all he needed. Your hands fall back down, the sleeves grazing your fingers as the gown lands in a mighty green heap at your feet. The air feels warm, still very muggy from the high humidity levels, but nevertheless your body is covered in goosebumps. You're not self-aware, you're not shy. Because this is Jungkook, and Jungkook knows every nook and cranny, every dip and curve, every mark and mole on your body. He knows your body like a well worn map.
You reach up and grasp his neck, pulling him down under for another breathtaking kiss. His hands rest on the bare skin of your hips and you sink into his touch, not realising how much you had missed him also.
“I missed you too,” you whisper again into his shirt.
“Let’s get to bed,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you tight. But trying to get the two of you to move anywhere at this moment in time was like trying to move mountains. “You must be tired.”
You look up at him, tracing the mole on his lip with your thumb. “Yeah. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
You reach up on your toes and capture his lips again, murming ‘goodnights’ and ‘sleep wells’ into his mouth, stumbling over to the bed and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You knew it would be a sleepless night, but this time, for all the right reasons.