“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jungkook stumbled backwards as you spoke, the heat biting into your words was too much for him to handle. Your voice was quiet, but harsh.
“What are you talking about?” He slurred, his shoes practically slipping off of his feet as he sloppily stepped this way and that, hardly able to hold himself up. His jacket landed beside you on the floor and he finally tripped over your shoes, toppling to the ground in a messy heap. It might’ve been funny under any other circumstances, but you were too angry to laugh.
You sighed heavily, starting towards him to offer a reluctant hand. “Those are your fucking fans, Jungkook! You can’t talk to them like that. You can’t talk to anyone like that! But especially people that adore you. Without them, there would be no BTS.” With some struggle, you finally got him over to the couch where he plopped down.
“Without me there would be no BTS.” He repeatedly refused the glass of water you continuously shoved in his face, acting as if that were going to make him throw up.
“You’re being ridiculous. Whoever decided to take you out to drink tonight will have to answer for this.” You ran to the kitchen and returned with a straw, impatiently sticking it into the water and teasing Jungkook’s bottom lip with it. He rolled away from you, singing someone’s name.
“He’s not here right now. He’s dealing with the mess you made downstairs.” Giving up, you put the cup down on the glass coffee table and started to help him out of his stained sweatshirt.
“I puked again?” He burped as you threw the disgusting garment to the ground, and then giggled to himself.
“No!” You said seriously, commanding his attention. “You yelled at a fan and told her that she’d never have a chance with you!” Mouth gaping, he stared at you as though you were crazy.
“I thought that’s what you wanted!”
“Why would I ever want you to disrespect your fans? I love them for loving you.”
“I just want them to know that you’re mine!”
“You can love them, too!” Your voice was rising now, just shy of a shout. Jungkook raised his tone to match yours and you could see the intoxication fading as the anger took over.
“Is that what you tell yourself?” His voice was a heavy roar, a canon cast from his mouth as he got to his feet, looming over you. You stepped back hesitantly, the back of your knees hitting the coffee table.
“What?” Your voice was a whisper. The air welcomed the new found silence, growing thick and suffocating.
Jungkook looked down, pressing his middle and index finger to the spaces on either side of the bridge of his nose, trying to coax the tears back into his eyes. He took a deep breath, his entire body shivering. You watched his shoulders heave and tremble as he choked back a sob.
“When you’re out with him, do you tell yourself that it’s okay for you to love him, too?” It sounded like it physically hurt him to say anything, his voice shaking and breaking.
“Jungkook, who are you talking about?” Genuinely confused and hardly able to understand his words, you leaned towards him, trying to look at his face.
“The other guy.” Jungkook finally made eye contact with you, his eyes glistening with pain. You didn’t realize that you had been holding your breath until you finally inhaled deeply, trying to find a hint of humor in his stare.
“‘The other guy’? What has gotten into you? I go to class, I come home, I wait. I study, I wait. I make dinner, I eat it alone, I wait. Ninety-percent of my life is waiting for you to come home, Jungkook. When would I have time to be with anyone else?” You never stopped looking at him, feeding him the truth through your eyes. He had to believe you. You loved him with all of your heart. It was dangerous and you knew it, but it was the truth.
“You’ve been so distant lately, I thought-” Suddenly flustered, he ran his fingers through his messy black hair, looking down at his feet.
“You thought what? That I’m cheating on you? If I wanted to be with someone else I wouldn’t drag this out, Jungkook. It hurts me, you know? Why would I put myself through pain that I don’t have to endure.” You were sure that he knew you were right. But it didn’t stop you from thinking about what you had just said. You do put yourself in constant pain. You knew that it was a toxic relationship that was doomed to go nuclear and leave everything in pieces. You knew it all. But you weren’t strong enough to walk away.
“I’m sorry, I just… I’m sorry.” And that’s all he had to say to make those second thoughts go away.
“Don’t say sorry to me, Jungkook. There are going to be some serious consequences for the words you said tonight. I just don’t know if you’ll be able to take it back this time.” Although you were always pretty shitty at looking out for yourself, you couldn’t stand to see him hurting. And after the stunt he pulled that night, you knew that things were going to be rough for a while.
“I need you. By my side.” It was as though his mind was suddenly, completely vacant of alcohol. He was as sober as you were, maybe even more so. He did have the power to disrupt your ability to think clearly.
“Okay.” You said blankly.
‘Okay’ is the equivalent to when someone asks you how you’re doing, and you say ‘Fine’. It isn’t an honest response. But it’s enough. It allows the other person to look the other way and pretend that things are better than they really are. Jungkook accepted this okay as exactly that, a fog of false security, blanketing itself over the space of your living room. He stepped forward and wrapped his long arms around you, his chest claiming you as it’s own. Your arms raised themselves and found each other behind his back and you leaned against him as though he were the only thing in the world that could keep you standing.
And in that moment, absorbing his warmth, there was nothing in the world that could hurt you. Except for maybe, the person that was holding you.