Work Text:
February 12, 2020
“Y/N! I’m so proud of you!” The boy beamed, eyes glistening and crinkling up at the crevices—running towards you with open arms.
You leaped into his embrace, bodies colliding, emulating a scene out of every single shitty romcom ever. One hand is enveloped in his hair while your other hand is clutching tightly to your driving test with big, bold check mark on the checkbox signifying that you passed.
“Did I do it? D-did I actually pass?” You stuttered, a little out of breath from the wave of ease that washed over you—the hard part was finally over. You can finally breathe again above the surface. Except, the only thing that was suffocating you was the worn down metal box that used to be your mom’s car, your test anxiety ricocheting off the suede seats and flying around your driving examiner—only to be released once they handed you back your paper with a smile as they left the car.
He chuckled, and you feel his body shake against your more petite frame as he does, “According to the paper, I think so,” he said, voice slightly muffled from his head being buried deep into your hair.
You pulled back, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but the radiant smile painted across your face displaying that you were much happier than any other emotion that was present. Chuckling, you gazed intently into his eyes, “You know I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
Releasing your grip on him, your arms left his small waist, your fingers tightened around the edges of the paper—still in disbelief at the fact that you’ve just tackled such a pivotal checkpoint in your life. The boy still has his arms wrapped around you, chin resting on your shoulder. You’re completely incognizant of how he looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes while your own eyes bore into the paper—nearly about to tear the thing in half from gripping onto it so hard. “You would’ve been just fine with or without me Y/N.”
His words tear your vision away from the paper in your hands. Always so humble, you thought to yourself. Shaking your head at his dismissal, you turn around while still in his embrace, “I love you. Thank you, really.”
His eyes softened at the sight of your own, a smile gracing his lips,
“I love you more.”
July 28, 2020
The fabric underneath your fingertips felt weightless, the layers of chiffon and intricately embroidered accents never something you ever thought would ever get to see with your own two eyes, let alone trying to shimmy your way into the fabric without busting through the seams.
After minutes of intense and meticulous, yet careful tugging, all while trying to zip up the back of the dress—you let out a long awaited exhale in victory once the fabric rested on your shoulders, your back slumping and arms falling to your sides against the fabric.
Staring down at your feet that were obscured by the deep maroon hues of the skirt, you gaped at the dress in awe. Unable to wait any longer and almost being able to visualize the curious, doe eyes of the boy sitting right outside this very curtain, you tugged it open with a shaky hand,hiking up your dress with the other while taking a small step outside the dressing room.
Your sudden presence knocked him out of his trance— his phone subsequently dropping to his lap. Hesitantly, his eyes trailed up and down your figure as you warily inched towards him.
He tried so hard to soak up every inch of this moment, from the hem of your dress, to the wrinkles of the fabric, the embroidering on your torso—to the way your hands are curled up into tiny fists at your sides, your hair cascading down the sides of your shoulders and glistening under the lighting of the shop, the small smile that decorated your lips, and your eyes that were much too shy to meet his own.
Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so beautiful in his life.
Shooting up from his seat, phone tumbling to the floor in which you gasp at slightly, he made his way towards you. He had this look in his eyes, and he carefully and unhurriedly stepped towards you like you were made of gold, a precious artifact in a museum that he felt like he shouldn’t even have the luxury of laying eyes on.
You smiled, a small chuckle tumbling out of your lips, exacerbating the fondness he had for you even more, if that was even possible. “Jungkook?”
This was something you’ve always dreamed of—picking out a prom dress in the quaint shop downtown that everyone in your school would pay a visit to when the time of year came. Jungkook by your side, of course. Except in your case, it was the middle of July, the summer before your junior year and Jungkook was about to take off for college in a few months.
You truly couldn’t have asked for anything more.
He took both of your hands into his, your fingers resting on the base of his palms, “Y/N, you look absolutely stunning, love.”
“I mean, I don’t kn—”
He shushed you, the sparkles in his eyes dancing around in his hazy irises. The iffyness in your voice made him pout slightly, but the cinch between his brows vanishes just as fast as it appeared, “Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more gorgeous, and here you are, standing right in front of me.”
Your smile can’t help but stretch even wider, your head instinctively looking down at the floor to mask the bashful nature that only comes out when you’re around him. But your happiness is short-lived when the numbers on the price tag knock you out of your stupor, “I do love the dress... but it’s way out of my budget.”
He nodded, observing the way the corners of your lips sank and your fingers started to slide out of his palms. He clasped onto your hands before they could fall out of his bigger ones, brows shooting up at the sudden idea that sprouts into his mind. He doesn’t even think twice before suggesting. “I’ll help you pay for it.”
Startled at both his actions, as well as the words that befall from his lips, you immediately shook your head in declination, “No, I can’t let you do that. Especially when you’ve been saving up for a car.”
“Fuck the car, there’s plenty of time for that,” he intruded on your doubts once more, not letting your skepticism see the light of day, “now, it would be an absolute crime for me to take you to prom in a dress that isn’t this one.”
The words entangled your current thoughts into a tangled, endless vine—twisting and ensnaring its way around the depths of your mind and heart. You’re barely able to voice your concerns, because you know he would just shut you down. “Even then Jungko–”
He squeezed your hands once more, his eyes crinkling up slightly, sparkling much, much brighter than the sparkles that you were covered head to toe in, “This dress was made for you, Y/N. Let me help you this one time.”
December 2, 2020
Your eyes are firmly shut, yet you have the same reel of images rolling through the blank canvas of your mind—like being forced to watch the same cringe-inducing scene in your least favorite movie over and over again.
Your phone has been laying facedown on your bedside table for hours now. You didn’t need to spare another glance at what was waiting for you on that screen.
It only took one look for the contents to be grossly embedded into your mind.
jk.jeon just shared a post: ecstasy, is what i feel when i’m with her
Who is she?
The way his hands are snaked around her waist like his own personal handbag, his body pressed up against hers as if they were conjoined at the hip. The dress she’s wearing conforms to her body like a second layer of skin, accentuating all the curves and perfections that you lacked in comparison—the bleached locks of her hair splayed messily atop of his shoulders from their close proximity, or rather, the lack of space between the two figures.
The way their foreheads are pressed together, lips messily meshed in the heat of a moment— the quick snap of a candid picture, the candid glimpse of a love and infatuation that runs deeper than what’s portrayed on a screen.
He’s smiling into the kiss, looking as rapturous and lovestruck as ever. The streaks of light casting on their bodies and the evident number of people that surround them lead you to assume that they’re at some sort of college party, obviously engaging in college activities. And he’s already found himself a college girl to replace you.
You didn’t need to sneak another glance at your phone to know what his intentions were with her. You didn’t even need to see her entire face and body to see that she has everything you don’t, and most likely, is able to give Jungkook everything else that you weren’t able to.
You just wish you had been given a warning.
August 19, 2019
Your eyes are trained on the road in front of you—hands gripping onto the steering wheel like your life depends on it. Well, actually, that isn’t entirely wrong in this case. You were driving for the first time. And your boyfriend was struggling to teach you the basics albeit the calmness he exuded through his actions. Needless to say, you weren’t exactly catching on quite as easily as you thought you were going to. A little scrutiny wouldn’t hurt , you thought to yourself.
“I fucking suck at this, how the hell am I supposed to get my license?!” You shrieked, your shitty driving causing laughter to simmer within you—your head falling against the steering wheel with a loud honk!
“You’re doing just fine!” He reassured you with a smile, his hands wrapping around yours on the steering wheel. “Okay, now just ease your foot on the brake pedal, very slowly.” He told you as you two reached a four-way stop.
“Like this?” You asked, your foot steadily applying more pressure to the pedal as the car inched closer to the white line.
“Yes! Just like that! I think you’re almost there, you can step on it all the way now.” He advised, peering over the dash before looking back down at your foot on the brake pedal.
You took a long, almost sonorous breath, fingers tightening even more (if humanly possible) around the steering wheel, “Alright.”
“Carefully—!” He yelled out as the car jerks to a halt, the sudden stop causing the two of you to lurch forward in your seats. He held you back by the shoulders, before you could face plant into the steering wheel. our eyes are glued shut, knuckles a ghastly shade of white as they remain clenched around the wheel in a vice-like grip.
Retracting back to his seat with labored breaths, he patted your head with a restrained smile, “Okay, that’s enough for today, love.“
December 6, 2019
You two are springing towards the photo booth, clinging onto each other's waists and whizzing past the shoulders of others without a single care in the world. Right now, the arcade was at a standstill and it was as if the only people that existed were you and him.
Tugging you through the curtain, you sat beside him, Your head sank into his shoulder as you two attempted to regain your breath. He fished a dollar out of his pocket, and you snaked your arms around him while he began to insert it into the slot.
The dollar feeds through the machine, and he slumps back in his seat, looking down as you continued to cling onto him, “Do you like how our first date is going so far?”
Your arms wrapped tighter around him on their own accord, you look up at him, “Maybee,” you drag out.
He scoffs, placing a kiss on your temple, “You are a terrible liar.”
“It’s starting!”
Positioning yourselves into the frame, you two sat side by side—cheeks practically smushed together as you two cheesily grin to the lens, bringing up a hand to form a peace sign next to your faces.
Flash.
Staring back at each other through the screen, you two silently concur on doing silly faces next. You literally do the exact same pose—choosing to stick your tongue out in addition, hardly qualifying as silly but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself that much, at least not yet.
Jungkook’s face contorted into a look that you can’t even begin to try to imitate—a glance at his face had you entirely folding over in laughter.
Flash.
Done with your whole tirade of keeping up your image, remembering that you’ve known the boy beside you nearly your whole goddamn life, he’s seen good and he’s seen bad—you snaked an arm around his neck. You bring your other hand up to his hair, tousling it up while your other arm is mock-choking him. You sneered into the camera with a devilish grin while the boy tucked underneath your arm made an exaggerated expression of terror. He looked exactly like that one painting titled ‘The Scream’.
Flash.
Letting go of him, he lets out a throaty laugh— seemingly impressed by your choice of pose. You two are simply stared into the screen, frozen and unaware of what to do next. The hopeless romantic side of you was begging to be released into the booth, and it ended up propelling you into doing what you were about to do next.
Flash.
You kissed him on the cheek. Immediately cowering away, wholly embarrassed at what you had just done, the large hands of the boy sitting next to you stopped you from shying further—cradling the sides of your head and bringing your focus back up to him, except now, you were staring straight into each others’ eyes, faces millimeters apart.
He whispered to you, his breath fanning your nose, eyes flickering down towards your lips, “Can I?”
“Yes,” you said just above a breath.
And that’s how he stole your first kiss.
June 19, 2020
“But what if—“
He placed his hand on yours, “What if what, Y/N?” He interjects, voice gentle and laced with concern.
You sighed profoundly, staring at his hands and how they were entwined with yours, his soft skin providing you with a semblance of assurance, just enough to keep you somewhat grounded. But your sanity was clinging on by a loose thread. “We can’t be together once you start college, you know that.”
“And why not?” He asks indifferently, feigning ignorance while his fingers drummed along the skin of your knee, avoiding your piercing stare.
“You’re moving, you’re going to turn legal,” your voice cracks, a single tear falling down your cheek. You bit your bottom lip, blinking furiously to stop the dam of tears that threatened to burst. “Things are going to change, Jungkook. Whether we both like it or not.”
“They don’t have to.”
Your brows furrow, “What do you me—“
“I’ll wait for you.” He declared impassively, like the answer was just so simple, so easy. His eyes stared so intensely into yours that you inhaled so sharply through your nose that it nearly hurt, your breath ceasing as he continued to stare.
You look up at him, daunted, his capricious words causing a few tears to escape, but you croak out, “W-what? No, I couldn’t possibly make you wait that long. That’d be selfish of me.”
He brought a hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing to wipe away the tears that were spilling out of your eyes.
“But what if I wanna wait for you, love?” He called out tenderly, brushing a finger alongside your jaw, the action making you reflexively sink into his touch.
You can tell that he’s in pain too, the smile that makes its way across his lips isn’t anywhere in comparison to his usual smile—the one where his eyes crinkle, his nose scrunches up, and his mouth is stretched to showcase all the bright pearls of his teeth.
This smile is a way of trying to battle the torment he feels inside—his lip quirked up, but quivering the longer he looks into your eyes, a dry chuckle is let out into the tense air in a way to help relieve your nerves. But he knows it’s not working. His brown pupils are shimmering more than ever— vision blurred with tears that start to fall from his eyes as well, the streaks evident on his cheeks.
“I’ll wait for you, Y/N . I’m not letting go of you that easily.”
November 29, 2020
The mall was bustling with shoppers—families, friends, couples, all people who were looking for annual sales during one of the busiest times of the year.
Black Friday.
The lack of ventilation and the excessive presence of body heat to replace it, the ruthless mothers who were willing to push and shove through every single crowd standing in their way just to get that Pyrex glass bowl set that was fifty percent off. Or the same puffer jacket in five different colors to gift for the extended family because all the toys were already sold out.
Pulling into the mall parking lot, your eyes scanned the lot for parking spaces. Newsflash: there weren’t any.
“Everyone and their mama is here, literally.” You said exasperatedly, slamming a palm against the steering wheel.
“Did you forget it’s Black Friday, and oh! Over there! Next to that black civic!” Hoseok yells while gesturing frantically to an empty space that you could barely make out over your dash. They really need to start making cars that accommodated vertically challenged people.
You swiftly pulled into the space what seems like hours of circling around the packed parking lot. You two considered abandoning this mall for another one, but soon realizing it would just be the exact same at any other mall. It was pointless.
You two passed through the doors to be greeted by a swarm of frantic shoppers. It was as if you were watching a school of fish traveling together to the same reef. Yet the closest thing here to a coral reef was the fish tank at that one sushi restaurant that Jungkook always loved going to.
After allowing Hoseok to follow the lead (because that bastard convinced you to take him in the first place), you both entered the large department store that was most likely at its maximum capacity of people at the moment.
Hoseok had a hideous pair of sneakers on that make his feet look like they got shot with a toy paintball gun.
“You aren’t getting those right…?” you asked, face contorted into a look of revulsion.
He pauses to pivot on his heel, holding the shoebox in his arms defensively as he glared at you with furrowed brows. “For your information, I’m asking for another size. You cannot tell me that I can’t pull these off.”
It’s Hoseok, of course he can pull anything off. “If I say you do, will you stop asking me how they look with your outfit. Those shoes will clash with every single outfit ever.”
He giggles, rolling his eyes and leaving before you lost him in the crowd.
A bunch of ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s fell from his lips as he attempted to slither his way through the fifty other people who were searching for a discounted pair of shoes as well.
He screeched to a halt, the shoebox nearly toppling out of his arms. Managing to save it, he sets it on some random table next to him and decides to abandon it to return back to you. And get you far, far away from what he had just seen.
Jungkook came back for winter break. Which wouldn’t be a surprise if it wasn’t for the fact that he was with a girl that wasn’t you. The same girl that’s been causing you to spend all your waking moments crying and wallowing in jealousy and regret.
If Hoseok knew that this was going to happen, he would’ve never forced you to leave your house. What a fucking coincidence that him and his girlfriend had to be here too.
Hoseok grabs you by the hand and yanks you out of your chair, dragging you out of the store while you’re yelling his name over and over again, wondering why he’s in such a rush to leave all of a sudden. He ignores you, and you mindlessly stare into his back as he continues to shove his way out of the store. His urgent and aggressive actions perplexed you—was he not just about to buy a pair of shoes?
Passing through the exit, he lets go of your arm, you two breathing heavily as you manage to escape the pushy crowd.
“What happened to the shoes?” You question, carding a hand through the hair that was matted to your temples.
Shit, think of something. “Eh, it’s not worth the price. Let’s go get the ice cream you wanted.” He said, promptly recalling how he bribed you with gas money and ice cream so you two could go shopping together.
“Um, alright.” You replied dryly, confused at his change in demeanor. You couldn’t argue with that, really. Ice cream is never a topic for debate.
You two spent an obnoxious amount of time in line and even more so waiting for your orders. Hoseok stays behind to wait while you look for a free table, deciding to situate yourself at one that’s close enough to make the back of Hoseok’s head. Because knowing him, there was a good chance he would get lost and then end up spamming you with phone calls asking you where you were.
Standing up from your seat, you scanned the front of the ice cream shop, not taking long to find Hoseok amidst all the people there. He has his neck craning in all directions while squinting, most likely looking for you. You’re waving your arms haphazardly above you while jumping up and down—any second now and you’ll start screaming his name.
His eyes widen as they find you, and he smiles with two cups of ice cream in his hand.
“Thanks.” You said as he sat down at the seat across from you, sliding the cup to your hands.
“I owed you anyway.” He said while shoving a heaping spoon of ice cream in his mouth.
Before he could gulp down another bite, he spots Jungkook and his girlfriend once more walking towards your table—realizing that there happened to be an empty table right next to the one you guys were at.
Nearly choking on his ice cream, he stabs his spoon into the cup, shooting up from his seat, “Y/N, we have to go.”
You gape at him with cinched brows, your spoon still inside your mouth, “But we just started eating, where the hell do you need to go?”
He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it after realizing he didn’t know how to get his way out of this one. “Uh, I feel bad since there’s not that many empty tables. We have ice cream, we can just walk around while eating it.”
The distance between your brows widens slightly. “That’s true. Whatever, just go where you need to go.”
He beams at that, tugging your elbow as he speed walks out of the food court. You hiss at him for almost making you almost lose your grip on your cup.
Hoseok returns back to normal walking pace once you two leave the food court, and you go back to eating as if nothing had happened.
Between bites you ask, “Hoseok, are you okay? You’ve been acting strange since we got here. And in the mall, too.”
He lets out a nervous chuckle, “Yeah, I’m fine! It’s just that I’m worried we might not be able to find anything, so I’m trying to pick up the pace.”
“Then why didn’t you buy those shoes earlier?” You ask innocently, still oblivious to his ulterior motives as of now.
“Uh, I found some that were cheaper online.” He explains without missing a beat, walking into H&M while you blindly follow suit, too busy eating to intervene.
“Still don’t think those shoes are worth this much fuss over, but suit yourself,” you scrutinize, chuckling to yourself as you walk over to a clearance rack.
“You are such a party pooper Y/N.”
“And you are one of the biggest splurgers I know Hoseok. God forbid the day you get a better job than the one you have now.”
He sternly crosses his arms, “For your information, I am currently happy working at my froyo place, and I have no intentions of leaving anytime soon.” He spits out indignantly.
You wave your hand, the smile growing on your face at his accusatory tone, “Yeah, yeah, as long as I keep getting extra mochi in my cup we’re good.”
He rolls his eyes before heading off to the men’s section.
You swipe through the endless amount of hangers, nothing really catching your eye—and whatever did happened to not be in your size, of course. Leaving the area, you walk deeper into the store in search of better luck at finding something you like.
Hoseok stays on the first floor, keeping an eye on the entrance. He was thinking of going to some other shop that was more discreet, but he figured that you would severely question him if he were to walk into Claire’s, so he opted for this instead.
Concerned about how this night has been playing out so far, Hoseok is even considering asking you to take him home after this. After all, he’s been your sole confidant throughout the whole altercation with Jungkook—a shoulder to cry on, letting you call him on the phone when you couldn’t sleep and get the thoughts of him out of your head, venting to him and telling you all the memories you two shared, sometimes multiple times but he never showed annoyance because he only wanted you to feel better. You’ve appeared a lot more jaded these last few months, and he, more than anyone wanted to see you feel like yourself again. And if everything that he’s done helps contribute for you to feel even the tiniest pinprick of ease, so be it.
So when Jungkook and his girlfriend walk into the entrance of H&M, he’s forced to formulate yet another escape plan.
Frantically pacing around the store, he searches every rack and shelf, eventually spotting you eyeing a pair of jeans, “Hey Y/N, have you found anything?”
You scrunch your nose, “Eh, not really, but I’m still looking around. You?”
He shakes his head, trying to sound as natural as he possibly can, “Nah, I don’t see anything I like to be honest.”
“You’ve already looked through the whole store, but we’ve only been here for five minutes?” You raise a brow.
“I don’t know, everything good is gone already, maybe we should just go to another mall.” He suggests, hoping you don’t see right through him.
You nod, putting the pair of jeans down back on the display table, “Yeah, we can, if you want. It’s not like we got anything else better to do.”
“Okay, cool! Let’s go!” He chimes, a little too cheerily, even for Hoseok. He yanks you by the arm once again, forcing you to drop all the clothes you had on your arm as he skips towards the exit.
He sees Jungkook once again, wearing a cheetah-printed hat and making stupid faces at the girl in front of him while she laughs heartily. Gasping, he hides behind a wall, colliding into you as your face gets shoved into a faux fur coat.
Sputtering, you swat his shoulder, curses falling from your lips angrily. “What the fuck?!”
“Sorry—!”
You step out of the jacket, staring daggers into the boy standing in front of you. “Hoseok, what is going on?”
“Everything’s fine, what do you me—!”
You groan exasperatedly, “No. You literally wanna go somewhere else when we haven’t been able to spend more than ten minutes at a single store? And you seem like you’re in such a hurry, even though you haven’t bought a single thing yet.”
He sighs, admitting defeat, “Y/N, we just can’t be here anymore. Trust me on this. We need to go.” He tugs on your arm once more, but you shrug it off without missing a beat.
“Why?” You deadpan, the anger in your voice diminishing slightly, “Give me a reasonable explanation first, and then we’ll leave.”
He freezes, his eyes casting downwards at his shoes. Biting his lip, he says, “Are you sure?”
Your eyes narrow, as you heave another sigh, “Yes, I’m sure.”
Looking back up at you, he gives you this apologetic look. His eyes appear much dimmer compared to seconds before, shoulders slumped, lips wishing to say something else, but he regresses and looks away.
He peers out from the corner of the wall, running an awkward hand through his hair before making enough space for you to see what he was looking at as well.
Your heart drops instantly at what you see in front of you.
It’s your first time seeing him since he left for college.
Yet you never would’ve imagined that you’d see him with such heaviness in your heart, and such aversion to even catch a glimpse of his face.
The girl who smiles up at him is even more stunning in person. So stunning that you don’t think you’ve ever felt so small while standing in the midst of all these people until right now. Another image you don’t think will leave the dark caverns of your thoughts for a long time.
She slips a pair of sunglasses onto his face and he scrunches his nose, placing a quick peck on her forehead while she giggles into his chest.
You’re already blinking back a vast wave of tears, letting out a couple of shaky breaths before murmuring, “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You shake your head, nudging his elbow with yours, letting the tears fall, “Sorry for what? For being the irreplaceable friend that you are? I could never repay you for all the shit I’ve made you put up with.”
“You know I’d kill him right here and right now if it were allowed.” He teases, successfully garnering a chuckle out of you despite the tears that start to flow more recurrently.
Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you muster a smile in his direction, shaking your head, “As if you could.”
“I’d probably die trying.” He laughs, and you laugh along with him as the hot tears begin to stream more freely down your cheeks. They soak the collar of your sweater, and you can taste the saltiness as it slips into the seams of your lips. Your vision becomes so blurry you can’t even discern the faces of the couple you’ve been staring at for the past couple of minutes.
He breathes out steadily, something that you’re still struggling to do. Tearing his gaze away from the two, he turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
You blink, letting the tears drip so your vision could clear up a bit. You give the couple one long glance before shifting your gaze to Hoseok, he greets your wretchedness with a smile. But it’s not wide or lustrous or jovial. No, not at all. It’s small, it’s close-lipped, it’s reassuring. And it’s all you can ask for right now.
November 6, 2019
The crowd is dead silent. Nine seconds are left on the clock as the school is only 2 points behind the opposing team.
Jungkook’s hair is slicked back with sweat, his biceps glistening and emphasizing the hours of practice and conditioning he’s been through. His eyes are narrowed and focused, knowing that the outcome of the game is almost entirely and quite literally, right in his very hands.
All eyes on your side of the bleachers are on the team captain who currently has the ball. He’s dribbling, eyes scanning the situation, trying to calculate his next move as he’s blocked from all sides.
Passing it to his teammate behind him, he fakes his way towards the sideline, and the teammate passes the ball back to him. His head flickers towards the shot clock that reads only 3 seconds remaining and from behind the 3-point line, he attempts to make a three pointer.
It makes it in.
They won.
The bleachers erupt into an explosion of cheers. The captain’s eyes widen at the sight as his eyes flicker to the scoreboard, to his team that’s already celebrating and currently running towards him, and then his eyes flicker towards you.
He smiles at you for a fleeting second before his team lifts him up into the air. He’s sitting proudly on his human podium as he gets handed the championship trophy. He pumps his other first into the air, reveling in all the glory in adrenaline that’s in making the winning shot. Finally reaching the conclusion of his high school basketball career with teammates that he wouldn’t ever trade in a lifetime, his coach that was looking at his team proudly from the sideline, and his favorite girl watching him from the stands.
Life is great.
Focusing back towards you, he mouths out, “ Meet me at the spot after the game. ”
You two always met up at the designated spot after his games, yet you’ve never improved at reading his lips after all this time, “ What?!”
“ The spot. After the game. ”
Finally comprehending what he’s trying to say, you nod, smiling, “ Oh, okay. ”
He smiles from ear to ear, his eyes shining even brighter than the reflection of the trophy he was holding. “ Wait for me. ” He mouths out.
Your smile can’t help but stretch even wider, “ I will. “
You sit at the familiar swing set at the designated spot, the park on the corner of First and Chestnut Avenue. Your feet hover above the floor, kicking the air in front of you as you wait for the boy that asked you to come here.
You’re scrolling on your phone to pass the time, his letterman jacket draped over your shoulders while you wait. You hear a pair of footsteps running towards you, a voice blaring from across the way,
“Y/N!”
The sound of his voice propels you to jump off the swing as you run towards him.
He beats you to it, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you habitually sink into his embrace. He’s changed out of his uniform and you can tell he’s just hopped out of the shower by the way the ends of his hair are bunched up at the ends. He smells absolutely divine that you don’t want to leave.
You pull back, holding him by his robust forearms that your fingers couldn’t quite fully wrap around, “You did amazing out there.”
“I felt like I was about to faint out there.” He chuckles as he pulls you towards a bench to sit on.
“I couldn’t even begin to imagine how that feels, I’d probably pass out from just staring at the buzzer alone.”
“I told you I’ll be fine as long as you’re there,” he coos as you nudge him in mock annoyance.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I’ve been thinking,” he starts, taking your hand into his, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He says resolutely, while rubbing shapes into the back of your hand with his thumb.
“W-what?”
“I can’t stand being just friends with you Y/N. I want more.”
Your heart rate begins to dangerously pick up speed, your mind spiraling into places unknown and you thought were deemed prohibited.
“I’m not sure I get what you’re—“
“—I like you, Y/N. And if I were crazy, which I am, I think I might even be in love with you.”
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, your face turning an embarrassing shade of crimson. Even though he was right in front of you, inches next to you in fact, your mind felt the need to repeat the words he had just said over again. And over again. And over again. And over again.
“Well, if you think you’re crazy, that I guess consider me insane because I think I might be in love with you too.”
JUNGKOOK <3 on January 2nd, 2021 at 4:46am
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I–I’ve majorly fucked up everything in every single way and I don’t even know what to do anymore. Before I could even realize that I fucked up, I knew it was already too late so I just kept exacerbating the situation more and more like the stupid fucking dumbass I am. And I am so sorry. I know you remember, and even though I’m drunk and crying right now, I still remember all those things we said to each other. And what I had promised to you. Forget about it. All of it. Please. I just knew it. I–I knew it right away. I knew it from the moment that I laid my eyes on you and you took me in as a friend, and then a lover, that you were way too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you, and I still don’t, and I don’t think I ever will. So please, please just forget about me. Forget about what I said. And please move on from me. You deserve so much better than what I’ve made you deal with these past couple of months. So please know that this is all my fault, and my fault only. I don’t even deserve to say these words… but I love you, and I hope one day I can make it up to you and you could forgive me. Even though I don’t deserve it whatsoever. Y/N, my love, I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Goodbye.”
The person you have dialed is not able to receive calls at this time.
March 15, 2021
With a heavy sigh, you smooth out the wrinkles on the paper in front of you. The idea of you writing a letter to him was anything but arbitrary. You often caught yourself spilling out your innermost closeted feelings onto paper, comforted by the resolve that it was only going to be you that saw it.
Except now, the ink being engraved into the paper wasn’t you gushing about said boy, the sweet nothings he would whisper into your ear when he would pull you away from the commotion of the school hallways, his lips that you knew were his by muscle memory, his much larger hand that always seemed to mold perfectly with yours. Everything. All of it. Anything that you knew you would love to look back on just in case of the rarity that his presence would cease to be at your side.
You haven’t spared a glance at those manuscripts in months.
You bite your lip, grabbing the black pen that you always used—habitually relishing in the forthrightness and sincerity of not being able to backtrack and erase what you put down.
With one quivering breath and a weak grip on your pen, you begin to write onto the paper.
Jungkook,
I hope you’re doing well. I miss you, and it would be a blatant lie for me to say that I don’t. In all honesty, I think about you a lot more than I care to admit. I guess that’s one thing that hasn’t changed ever since you left.
I don’t know what propelled me to write this. Maybe I was tired of being bound up by these suffocating shackles you’ve seemed to have a hold on me since you left. Because that’s how I’ve felt ever since you moved away and replaced me with a girl I could never compete with. But I do have to say she is insanely beautiful. And you two look happy together. And I am in no way pinning any speck of blame on her. Not when I have you flaunting around your newfound way of relieving the stress of uni every second you get.
I just don’t understand. Did you not think I was going to find out? Actually no, you made it flagrantly obvious that you had no intention of hiding yourself. I just, I don’t know. Why couldn’t you just tell me that your feelings changed? Spare me some of the pain and tell me that you didn’t want to wait anymore. That you found someone else. That you don’t love me anymore.
I know we weren’t perfect, but fuck, you and I both know that I’ve never felt this way for anyone. I just can’t fathom how you can be so okay after shutting me out like that. Was I that insignificant to you after all that time we spent together? All those years of friendship, love, memories, promises—was it not enough for you to consider me worthy of keeping in your life? Bullshit.
I can still see all the lurid images of our relationship every time I close my eyes. And I’m exhausted. I just wish it would all stop. I wish I could erase you out of my life, but you’ve engraved yourself into my mind. All-consuming and unwelcomed. How did you possibly leave your own designated route in my heart, and why have I never been able to find a single detour of this hell. Why do these memories run so deep within me when I know you couldn’t care less? Why does this have to be so hard?
Fuck, I loved you. I think I might even still fucking love you right now. But back then, I was so ready, at any goddamn given moment to drop everything I had to be with you. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me that you were leaving, that you were turning 18 and beginning your journey into adulthood while I was still inevitably lagging behind. Yet none of that ever phased me. But do you know why? Do you know why I unabashedly and wholeheartedly was so willing to act so foolish for you?
You told me you would wait. You were the one that promised me forever that one day in your car while tears were rolling down your cheeks and you were holding me in your arms—whispering nothing but soft words of assurance in my ear, consoling me, and tricking me into believing that your love would be nothing but unwavering.
I was the fool that fell for your words. Still hoping until this day that I have even a sliver of a chance to receive that same love from you again.
Slamming your pen down on your desk, you bury your head in your hands. Seething, rage-filled tears dampening your calloused palms as you take deep breaths into your hands.
The tears drip onto the paper, smearing some of the freshly written ink. You stand up from your seat, leaving your desk to hide under the covers of your duvet—willing yourself to dreamland so you avoid the reality that you adamantly and petulantly refused to face.
May 4, 2021
It’s the night of your prom.
It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve gotten your license—at the final year of your life before you’ll be considered a full-fledged adult.
All this time you had always wished for the days, weeks, and months to tick by faster so you could just be considered already (for many obvious and aforementioned reasons). But when Jungkook had left, you finally took the time to just sit down and realize these very moments are supposed to be the best times of your life.
You have a clear intent on your mind tonight. And it doesn’t involve any dancing, corsages, or forced conversation with a boy that asked you out to the prom out of pity. Everyone knew that you only wanted to go with one person, and one person only, so you had turned everyone down. Likewise, you felt awfully pathetic about the situation that you couldn’t even bear to show your face in front of all your peers.
It’s a particularly rainy night. Your windshield wipers are on the highest setting as you traverse through the suburban areas of your hometown. The goosebumps on your arms are raised—your arms bare due to your choice of clothing for the night.
You nearly forgot that you’ve had a dress for prom all this time— bought months in advance by a boy who was so excited to see it on you more than you were. He used to talk about this day all the time; your first ever prom and what he planned to do, what to wear to match your dress, how we would take you there, and yet, now he’s not even there for any of it. For the past couple of months your dress has been occupying the back of your closet, not wanting to relive those memories or be reminded about all those fruitless fantasies that he had always told you about every time you saw it.
Tonight is the first time you’ve worn it ever since he saw you in it and bought it for you that day.
You finally reach your destination. You make it to the spot; the park that was you two once considered yours. Once you’ve parked, you finally loosen your grip on the steering wheel, your fingers raw and sore from how rigid you had been driving this entire time. Some things never change.
Letting your hands drop into your lap, you stare outside your windshield. It was late into the night, and the neighborhood was asleep and all cooped up to shelter themselves from the heavy rainstorm that was forecasted today.
Your eyes flicker over to the shoebox in your passenger seat and the hoodie that was slung over the headrest. The unbearable weather causes you to slip on the hoodie. You momentarily cease in your actions—in shock at how the fabric still smells like him after all this time.
Dismissing the minor detail, you take the shoebox and set it down in your lap. Taking off the lid, you are immediately met with a myriad of pictures with his face as the muse. Little keepsakes like small love letters he would sneak into your backpack in between classes, polaroids that you would take of him when he wasn’t looking, receipts from all the dates you would go on, old movie tickets, and everything else. It was all in there.
Taking another glance towards the outside, you notice that the rain has stopped. Closing the box, you tuck it under your arm while opening your car door. You step towards the front of your car, propping a foot on the front bumper before jumping up onto the hood. You take advantage of having such thick fabric on, disallowing the water from seeping through onto your skin.
You take some of the skirt into your hand and spread it along the hood, placing the box on top of it so it wouldn’t get wet. Opening the box once more, you quickly rummage through the contents, hand scraping the bottom of the box until finding the small lighter that you were looking for. Your fingers encircle around it before taking it out of the box and sticking it in the pocket of the hoodie.
It’s been months since you’ve looked through the box. You feel internally appalled at how much you had kept over the course of time, a clear representation of how utterly and madly in love you were with the boy.
It’s like you took it upon yourself to document everything that happened in your relationship. The endless amount of tangible memories leave your mind swirling haze.
There’s one particular picture that catches your eye. You see the same hood of the car you’re currently sitting on peeking under a receipt of the sushi place you two always went to.
Brows furrowed, you reach a hand into the box to take it out, gasping once the rest of the picture comes into your point of view.
You vividly remember when this picture was taken. It was taken the same day you had gotten your license and your mom had gifted you her old corolla to use as she had bought a new car for herself.
The car was parked in the exact same spot you were in right now, the park around the corner from his house. He was holding you by the waist, smiles beaming on both of your faces as you two stood in front of the hood of your mom’s car. One of your arms was shot up into the air, your hand clutching your driving test as the other was wrapped around his waist. Both of his arms were wrapped around your figure, holding you against him while his head rested atop of yours.
A single tear unwillingly escapes—falling onto the picture. You throw the picture back into the box, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you shut the lid back on.
Jumping off the hood of the car, your eyes are set on yet another destination—the swingset. Your shoes slosh against the wet pavement, your dress nearly dragging behind you as you hold onto the silver chains, propping yourself into the seat and placing the box in your lap once again.
Lifting the lid off, you're forced to meet the multitude of palpable forms of remembrance of the boy. Your eyes focus on each picture, each love letter, each receipt, each movie ticket, all of it, with an intent that isn’t even quite comprehensible to you. But you digress and continue to look through it all without fault.
As you pick up each and every one of all the contents in the box, you fleetingly transport back into the time in which whatever you hand in your hands had occurred—savoring each drop of feeling that you could muster to recall with just a single gaze.
Hand digging through the box, you pull out a torn piece of paper. It appears to be torn out of a graph paper notebook. And you recognize the scrawl immediately. It reads:
good luck on your test today, love. mr. smith’s shitty teaching is no match to my smartypants girlfriend. let’s get food after school today, whatever u want :)
- guk <3
You take out another piece of paper that looks near identical to the one you’re currently reading. Placing the other one back inside the box, you read it and it says:
how did you even notice I forgot to bring water to practice? you’re a godsend, y/n, i’d be a mess without u
- guk <3
And you begin to realize there’s more and more of these messages. You rummage through the box, separating the letters from everything else so you could read each one.
you look beautiful today
- guk <3
im so scared for the game today, the team’s been slacking a bit during practice and i haven’t been feeling well enough to reprimand them. i know i’ll feel better once i see you in the stands though. y/n, my good luck girl
- guk <3
what life did i save in my past life to have u in my current one
- guk <3
i hate sitting thru ms. pitt’s boring ass lectures. can we ditch and sleep in my car together D:
- guk <3
i’ll be honest. when i first got my letterman, i was more excited to see you wearing it more than myself. i can see that my instincts were right after all.
- guk <3
u could wear a sack and i’d still think you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen i swear to god wow im so in love with u
- guk <3
i swear i kept staring at the clock counting down the minutes til the game ended. i miss u love and im so tired
- guk <3
keep the hoodie…. keep all of them actually…
- guk <3
seeing u drive off on ur own made me feel like such a proud dad. except we don’t tolerate incest in this household. ok but if it were with you then maybe… oh my god what the fuck am i saying ok i love u yeah u know that though bye love see u later
- guk <3
u deserve everything the universe has to offer. let’s travel thru space one day, yeah?
- guk <3
meet me at the spot after the game, i have something important i need to tell you :)
- guk <3
Before you know it, something in the damp, chilly air shifts. You’re smiling as tears stop at the corners of your lips. You nearly forgot how you genuinely felt in all those moments right in front of you, and you more than wish that you could feel that type of blitheness in your life again.
Carefully placing all the letters back in the box, you feel a pang arising in your chest. A pang of something you haven’t been necessarily able to feel in a while.
Hope.
You can feel yourself yielding. For once, giving into the prospect that there’s a possibility that you and Jungkook could just be better off not together in the ways you’ve always imagined. Out of each other’s lives indefinitely, but not quite entirely.
You flip open the lid of the box, frantically searching for the self-written letter you had written when you were in a state of mind that you had grown accustomed to after all these months. A toxic one that’s been eating you whole and tearing your focus away on the things that you still have to be thankful for. Friends. Family. Your entire life. Waiting to be embarked on and filled with memories that could fill up dozens of other boxes and rooms in your mind.
Taking the letter out of the box, you close the lid, using the cardboard as a surface to smooth the paper onto as you click your pen.
For some fucking reason, the delusional daydreamer that incessantly takes up space within me still wishes I could bear witness to see you smile. To see you laugh. The one that’s thunderous and full of life and used to ricochet along the walls of my bedroom. To read the love letters you’d slip into my backpack in between classes, and then having to bury my face in my hands to hide the smile that never ceased everytime I’d read one. To see you steer your car with one hand while the other would hold mine. To see you wink at me from across the gymnasium during every basketball game you played, and then trying to converse with me albeit me never understanding what you were trying to say. To see you come to my rescue without hesitation when I couldn‘t understand something in school. To feel your touch and your embrace and your lips against mine—working in perfect tandem because you just always felt like home. And to hear those same lips call me ‘love’ one last time.
To see you pour so much of your heart into everything you do, everything you encounter—even the minor inconveniences that cross your path. You would knock it all down with such fervor, such grace, and with your nose all scrunched up, your brows downturned, and your bottom lip tucked into your mouth—showcasing the small mole under it that tickled you whenever I’d kiss it.
Yeah. Maybe I’ll have to carry the weight of all these memories for as long as I live. Maybe you’ll always have a spot in my heart reserved for you as much as I try to deny it. Maybe I won’t be able to find someone who cared about me or loved me as much as you did.
But I think maybe, just maybe, I can live with all of that.
I was so lucky. I am still lucky. I had you—someone who was able to fill in the voids of my being, and fall back onto when things were tough—never hesitating to remind me and reassure me that I was enough. That I was worthy of something so precious, so memorable. All those times I thought you would just say it out of pity or because you thought it was something you needed to do, were obliterated into bits. Because looking back at it now, and how I felt in all those moments, your penchant-like words were laced and spoken with nothing but utmost confidence, endearment, and genuineness.
Now I know that I’m capable of being in love. I’m worthy of having someone do all the things that you did and possibly even more. I can sleep rest assured that as much as you hurt me, my life isn’t over now that you’re gone. I’m not driving on this endless one-way street. Because my journey is just beginning, and heartbreak and pain is always going to be there regardless of what path I choose. But how I deal with it and overcome it is up to my own terms. And I’m only realizing this now. Only realizing this after it felt like you shattered my entire universe.
Yet it all makes me come to the realization that I don’t think I would’ve been able to feel this way, or discover all of this, unless you left the way you did. And for that reason, I am grateful and indebted towards you.
The same delusional daydreamer hopes that one day we can talk and laugh like old pals. Like nothing ever changed between us. I hope you achieve your dreams that you always thought seem too far-fetched, yet in the back of my mind I always knew you could easily grasp. I hope someday you can lie a life of lesser worries and insecurities, because you rarely had any to start off with. I always hoped the world for you, because you deserve it. And despite everything, I still believe you do.
But most of all, I hope you find true love. I hope you feel and make someone feel as loved as I felt when I considered you mine, and you considered me yours.
I hope you’re happy right now as I’m writing this letter that you’ll never see. And I hope you’re happy long after then.
I love you. I’ll love you forever, Jungkook.
- Y/N
You sign off and fold up the letter, feeling content as you reread what you had just written. The change of tone this half had in comparison was striking to the words you had written in your bedroom while irate tears were falling down your cheeks. With wishful thinking, you hope that your words could mirror your being and spark a change in mindset within you.
And for the first time, you were determined to get there.
Rain starts to fall, and you hover over the box in a meek attempt to protect it from the elements. You clutch onto the letter the tightest though, because just like everything inside that box, this letter would be able to attest to another significant moment you cherish close to your heart.
The rain begins to pour even harder, emulating the heaviness you feel in your heart and the weight of all the strapping thoughts that run through your mind.
You pull your hood down, exposing yourself to the rain—relishing in the feeling of the water gushing onto your body and how the raindrops mix with the tears that continue to incessantly run down your face.
Hurriedly, you lift the lid just wide enough to slip the letter inside before hastily shutting it close.
You tug your hood back on despite just taking it off, already feeling the indications of a cold coming along the longer you let yourself get drenched in rainwater. Your hair was sopping wet and the fabric of the hoodie was well past damp at this point.
Shivering and holding the box close to your chest, you jump off the swing. You dust some of the rainwater off of the skirt of your dress.
Taking the first huge, contemplative, yet steady exhale of the night, you begin to make your way towards your parked car, until you notice a tall, hooded figure standing a few feet beside it.
The shadow seems oddly familiar, but it might still be the notable amount of tears that you’re trying so hard to hold in—clouding your irises, disallowing you from seeing clearly and assuredly.
Your feet start to pick up speed, approaching the stranger as they turn towards you with their head hung low.
Your heart begins to pulsate even more vigorously against your caged yet defenseless form—the pounding so piercing, resounding, roaring and deterring that you could feel your head start to spin on its axis.
The grip you have on the box tightens extraordinarily, you could feel the wet cardboard fraying at your fingertips all while the stranger decisively refuses to look you in the face.
It hurts so bad to swallow, like needles are pricking at your throat as you do. Your mind delays, the words reach your lips before your brain could even begin to process them.
You call out to the stranger, your voice muffled due to the rain that continued to excessively patter, “Excuse me, what are you—”
“Y/N… it’s really you.”