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lovestrippedbare) wrote2020-02-14 06:38 pm
lovestrippedbare) wrote2020-02-14 06:38 pm
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π‘ππ¦ π‘ππππ
There's a box of chocolates that rests on Jungkook's bed. It's not the only one that was pushed into his hands today, but it was the only one that came with no expectations, no need for an answer.
Jungkook barely remembered the girl by name, but she had noticed him long ago, she said. Had noticed that everything about his demeanor had changed so sharply compared to the previous year, but that as much as anyone wanted to help, there was never really an opportune time to step so clumsily into someone else's life. She was not a friend. No confidante. And she held no illusions otherwise. Valentine's Day provided convenient cover, and if there was any type of soft entreaty in her eyes, she did not put it into so many words — only expressed a desire to see him smile again, to break past whatever it was that bound him back.
He can't remember whether or not he ever thanked her. Next month, Jungkook supposes, he'll have to try.
The mattress dips underneath his weight, legs crossed on the sheets, dragging wrinkles from the fabric as he hunches over the box. Stares at the phone in his hand, then lifts it to his ear, never turning the screen on.
"Min-ah," he says to the empty air, fingers tracing along the edge of the thin ribbon wrapped around the box. "If I were a braver person, what would I do? I'm not good with my words, but I bet you know that there's more going on than I ever put in those texts. I'm so afraid of saying something that'll push you away for good. And then sometimes I think, I must have done that already. Because it's been so long..."
He heaves an exhale; his chest hurts. Jungkook rubs stubbornly at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Even if there's no one around to witness him now, he can't help but feel a sense of shame. He feels too much. And hasn't that always been his failing?
"You know, we made a lot of plans. And I guess it probably hurts as much for you as it does me to know that some of them can't happen the way we wanted, but... it's not all or nothing, you know? I meant it, when I said we should just go and. As long as we had each other, we'd be happy." Jungkook huffs a small laugh. "I want to be so angry with you. Sometimes, I almost think that I am. Maybe it's pathetic of me that I'm not.
"I should let you go, right? I'm starting to forget things. The way your hands looked on the piano. The sound of your voice when you're half-asleep. When I see you in my dreams, it always feels like you're getting further and further away. You've probably moved on, and I'm just... hanging onto the past."
A smile pulls at Jungkook's lips, strained and stiff, as he lowers the phone from his ear, still as silent and dark as it was before.
Slowly, he tugs at the ribbon on the box.
Jungkook barely remembered the girl by name, but she had noticed him long ago, she said. Had noticed that everything about his demeanor had changed so sharply compared to the previous year, but that as much as anyone wanted to help, there was never really an opportune time to step so clumsily into someone else's life. She was not a friend. No confidante. And she held no illusions otherwise. Valentine's Day provided convenient cover, and if there was any type of soft entreaty in her eyes, she did not put it into so many words — only expressed a desire to see him smile again, to break past whatever it was that bound him back.
He can't remember whether or not he ever thanked her. Next month, Jungkook supposes, he'll have to try.
The mattress dips underneath his weight, legs crossed on the sheets, dragging wrinkles from the fabric as he hunches over the box. Stares at the phone in his hand, then lifts it to his ear, never turning the screen on.
"Min-ah," he says to the empty air, fingers tracing along the edge of the thin ribbon wrapped around the box. "If I were a braver person, what would I do? I'm not good with my words, but I bet you know that there's more going on than I ever put in those texts. I'm so afraid of saying something that'll push you away for good. And then sometimes I think, I must have done that already. Because it's been so long..."
He heaves an exhale; his chest hurts. Jungkook rubs stubbornly at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Even if there's no one around to witness him now, he can't help but feel a sense of shame. He feels too much. And hasn't that always been his failing?
"You know, we made a lot of plans. And I guess it probably hurts as much for you as it does me to know that some of them can't happen the way we wanted, but... it's not all or nothing, you know? I meant it, when I said we should just go and. As long as we had each other, we'd be happy." Jungkook huffs a small laugh. "I want to be so angry with you. Sometimes, I almost think that I am. Maybe it's pathetic of me that I'm not.
"I should let you go, right? I'm starting to forget things. The way your hands looked on the piano. The sound of your voice when you're half-asleep. When I see you in my dreams, it always feels like you're getting further and further away. You've probably moved on, and I'm just... hanging onto the past."
A smile pulls at Jungkook's lips, strained and stiff, as he lowers the phone from his ear, still as silent and dark as it was before.
Slowly, he tugs at the ribbon on the box.