A/N: Thank you to @workofteaguk for encouraging me to post this drabble and return to this world. I hope you guys like this return!!
Midnight is Jungkook’s favorite time of night.
It’s his favorite because once that clock strikes twelve, Jungkook’s night is either just getting started, or he’s falling into bed to sleep peacefully. He’s either seated between pretty thighs and thick lipstick, a hookah pressed to his lips, or he’s lying naked in bed with a pleasantly fucked out girl on his chest.
In high school, people have something to prove. Parties are always more extravagant and always go on longer, as if there’s some kind of reward that can be found by keeping the party going until the sun’s rising in the sky. Jungkook isn’t a huge fan of those parties. He goes, of course, usually with Taehyung and Jimin flanking him and a pretty girl waiting on the other side of the room, but he refuses to stay much later than midnight. Whether he goes home or back to a pretty thing’s house- once a senior from the local university had taken Jungkook home, thinking him to be older than he was. Taehyung had full out cried when he heard the news, and Jimin high-fived him so many times that Jungkook’s hand stung, and well, that was a different story altogether.
synopsis; you’re insecure about everything. he could get someone better, so why hold on to you?
word count; 2.2kwords
notes; sorry for not posting much the past few days !! my exams are finally over now so i can hopefully return to my original posting schedules? i’ll try at least aha // o right nd a little spoiler for u all ; do look forward to a long-ass ceo!mingyu and secretary!vernon fic that is in process rn ;)
How’s tour?” you asked, sitting in front of your MacBook placed on your marble desk. You brought your legs up to your chest, hugging it close as if you were cold, although you were already donning a thick hoodie. Resting your chin on your knees, you just stared at Jihoon who was on the other side of the video call. It was past midnight, but you stayed up, regardless. It was the only time when you could actually talk to your boyfriend.He lets out a sigh, leaning back onto the headrest of his bed. You could see the wooden board behind him, and you caught glimpses of his white sheets. “Tiring, as usual,” he said. “But it’s fun.”
You smiled slightly. “It must be. I saw your Going Seventeen episodes.”
Jihoon chuckles. “Yeah, that.”
Out of the blue, you heard a lady’s voice in the background, and Jihoon’s attention turned to the woman, his head tilting up slightly and looking past the screen as he hummed in response to the voice.
Your facial muscles twisted themselves into a frown, but you casually hid your face behind your knees, only allowing the upper half of your face to be seen. Not like it mattered actually; he wasn’t even looking at you to notice.
“Be sure to sleep early,” you heard the woman say, and Jihoon smiles, nodding before turning back to you.
He laughs as he sees you hidden behind your own legs. “What’re you doing?”
“Who was that?” you asked, making sure you didn’t sound upset. You didn’t want to be petty.
“Suri? She’s just my stylist,” Jihoon said, and you ‘oh’ed.
This time, Jihoon frowns at your curt reply. “Is everything alright?”
You immediately nod, so sharply that you seemed desperate for him to believe you. “Yeah, of course.”
Jihoon doesn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t probe.
“You should sleep,” you said. “You have schedules tomorrow.”
“Already?” Jihoon whined. “We haven’t talked for long.”
“But I’m tired,” you lied. “I’m sure you are, too. We can talk tomorrow.”
Jihoon took the bait and shrugged. “Alright then. Sweet dreams, babe.”
You smiled, but you weren’t sure if the grin was entirely genuine. “Good night.”
Hanging up the video call, you immediately closed your laptop and walked over to your bed, climbing under the covers and turning off your warmly-lit bedside lamp — the only source of light that was turned on.
Your mind was clouded grey, fairly matching the shade of your surroundings as moonlight danced lazily past your blinds. Jihoon was in his room. A room in a hotel, for sure, since he was at Manila for his world tour. Then why was his stylist, a female, in his room at this time of the night? The way he had smiled at her, was like the way he smiled at you.
You shook your head. No, don’t think like that. Jihoon isn’t like that.
But no matter how much you tried to pound your own thoughts down, they wouldn’t dislodge themselves and seemed to only negatively build up.
Your mood was ricocheting between low and lower. You pictured a slim, beautiful lady, and the fact that she was a stylist probably would greatly contribute to her looks. And the fact that she can be with him every single day, through his tours, and you couldn’t…
Everything was just piling on top of each other. Unconsciously, your eyes fall shut, and a lone tear squeezes its way out of your tear glands and trickles down your face, for once not making you look like a mess that you internally were.
That call was a big addition to your growing list of insecurities about your relationship with Jihoon. Jihoon had been calling you less, but no, it wasn’t his fault since he was an idol — you understood that. You really did. But somehow, at the same time, you somehow didn’t want to come to terms with it. You didn’t want to concede that that was the sole factor of why he wasn’t calling, and why your conversations became so much more dull, so much more insipid.
‘Suri’, as he had introduced his stylist, could be the reason too, isn’t it? Or anyone else, for that matter. He could get so many other girls. Any other girl.
There goes your thoughts again, leading their own way.
You subconsciously started beating yourself up; you were suddenly drained of all your energy. The pretty blue skies, the clouds out — that was something that made you smile every day; you loved seeing sunlight peek past those make-believe cotton candies. But everything gradually became bleak and tenebrific. Nothing really mattered anymore. It was as if you were going through post-symptoms of a breakup, but you were still in the relationship. That made you even more afflicted because you no longer knew the meaning of your love.
You lost your appetite along with your spirit, and meals suddenly became a commonly unpicked option in your daily life. Calls were shortened or declined, messages lessened or ignored.
The dawn sun peered through a hazy screen of clouds, painting the sky an elaborate mix of bloodied reds and vibrant oranges, intertwined with smoky greys that permeated the skyway canvas, showing hints that it may bring a mild drizzle later on.
You straightened out your legs whilst still lying down, arching your back a little as you stretched yourself out. You pushed the blankets off, immediately feeling the warmth of sleep slowly begin to slip away. Standing up, your bare feet pressed softly against the cushy carpet.
Another day to get by, you thought.
You headed to your washroom to brush your teeth and rinse your face and all that stuff.
Your doorbell suddenly rings, making you jump. Your eyes traveled to the clock hanging on the wall, its hands pointing to 11am. Pretty late already, so you held back your irritance about someone coming over ‘so early in the morning’.
Quickly glancing down at yourself, you internally thanked the heavens that you were appropriately clothed — brown pullover with grey sweatpants. Presentable, you would dare say.
You wiped your wet hands on the towel hanging beside the sink and combed down your hair, running your fingers through it to give it some natural ‘volume’, before rushing to the door.
You pressed down on the handle and pulled the door open, and a man all too familiar to you stands behind it.
“J-Jihoon.” You were so taken aback that you stumbled on your words. “I thought you were returning tomorrow.”
He steps in, and you let him. He closed the door behind him and pulled you in a hug, and your chin rested on his shoulder. But somehow, you couldn’t feel the warmth that his hugs usually had. You found yourself hesitating to hug him back.
You haven’t seen him for 3 months, mind you.
“Yeah, I was supposed to. Surprise,” he said, chuckling. “I missed you.”
You didn’t know how to respond; you knew he knows that there was something going on. And the point that he wasn’t questioning you made you confused.
Jihoon let you go, and the look in his eyes confirms your thoughts. He does know that something is wrong. He just doesn’t know what.
“Why didn’t you reply to my messages?” he asked. “I was worried.”
“I was busy with school,” you said, avoiding his gaze indifferently. “You don’t have to be.”
“Then what happened to our night calls?”
“I… had to finish assignments. Finals are coming up.”
Jihoon frowns, but you tried to shake off the atmosphere that was building tension. “You must be tired. Do you want to go sleep? We can go out for lunch or dinner later.”
Jihoon raised a dubious eyebrow, unfazed. “Y/N, is something wrong?”
You let out a laugh. “No, what could be wrong?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” he said. “Why did you lose so much weight?”
You weren’t going to spill everything here. You cocked your head to a side, then looked down at yourself. “I did?”
Jihoon was now getting frustrated. “Yes, you did. Now tell me, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“No, it’s nothing,” you insisted, but your voice broke slightly at the last word. No, you told yourself, you were going to hold out. It’s funny how you were putting on a brave front in front of Jihoon, when he used to be someone you could just cry your eyes out to. Your eyes were starting to glisten, the brown orbs looking like they were encased in glass. “I said it’s nothing.”
Jihoon’s expression hardens, but his gaze was still soft. It made you look away from him, and the uncontrollable sniff gave you away.
“Y/N,” Jihoon said, his voice grim. “Why aren’t you telling me—”
“Because there’s nothing to tell you,” you reiterated as firmly as you could, your gaze dropping.
Jihoon went silent for a moment, his gaze not shifting off you, while your eyes constantly shifted from one place to another, trying to find something to focus on. Jihoon’s jaw clenches for a moment but releases a second later.
“Is it because it’s because of me?” he asked, as if he had been trying to phrase the question properly in his head for the past few seconds of quietness.
You didn’t reply, and that was the answer to his question.
“It is,” he confirmed himself. “Why? Did I do something?” Jihoon was sounded almost desperate to get you to talk to him.
You didn’t know what to say to him.
“Just tell me, Y/N!” Jihoon vented, possible too brutally, but he was getting annoyed at your obstinacy. “I did something wrong, and you’re supposed to tell me what it is! I’m your boyfriend, I should never be the one making you upset!”
You snapped your head up, your eyes now just slightly bloodshot. “Fine, I’m upset, I’m hurt! Happy now? I don’t deserve this relationship, Jihoon. I don’t want to be in this relationship. You’re better. You deserve better, not this. I can never be with you all the time, I can never give you some things that other girls would definitely be able to give you. I’m tired of being afraid that our relationship would break, I’m tired of being insecure that you’d find someone else! That girl in your room the other day, your stylist or whoever the hell you said she was, I brooded on that, and I kept thinking about everything else. It’s like our relationship is dying, but it’s annoying the fuck out of me because I still love you. I’m sorry I’m making such a big fuss about everything, but I spent the last three months feeling like I wasn’t actually loved back, okay!?”
You were a crying mess now, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You looked away from him again, pulling your hand back from his to wipe your tears away. You took a couple of deep breaths to calm the wracking sobs from inside of you.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jihoon muttered, in a state of shock. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think so much about that, I didn’t think about your feelings… I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”
You let out a soft grumble, your tears starting to stop its endless flow after hearing Jihoon’s softened voice. He wraps his arms around you once again, this time tighter. Sighing quietly, you knew you would never be able to stay angry at him. He’s Jihoon, after all.
“I love you, Y/N, I really do. I don’t deserve better, there’s nothing better than you. I don’t want us to end. I’m sorry for neglecting us during the tour. I was really busy, but I know I should’ve talked to you, I’m sorry.”
Your face was buried in the pit of his neck, and this time, you hugged back. “It’s okay… Just… at least focus on the call next time or something.”
Jihoon nodded, planting a soft kiss on your head. The both of you stayed there for a little while with him swaying you side to side every now and then, before he loosened the embrace, and his hands drifted to your waist. It settled there and he pulled you closer. His face angled to the side slightly as he gently pressed his lips to yours.
I love you, his whispered against your lips, and you smiled through your own tear-streaked face.
Tags: female reader, nurse reader, set in Divergent, angst, crying, misunderstandings, fluff, established relationship.
Summary: It’s hard being a transfer. It’s hard having grown up in Amity. It’s harder, now you live a Dauntless life, beside your partner Eric, with his high profile job within the faction.
Notes: This was a request from my tumblr (I can’t remember if it’s from @susiephalange or here at @phalangewrites) who wanted to read some more Eric from Divergent. I honestly agree with Anon, because Eric is my smol evil bean. Anon, if you’re reading this message, hope you like it!
Of course! I’m sorry it took so damn long, I’ve just been swamped with work lately.
This is actually the second story request I got with the same prompt. This actually turned out to be a pretty fun experiment of how I can make one prompt work for two completely different stories. This one was an especially fun one to write. Enjoy!
Prompt: “I’m going to take care of you, Okay?”
“It’s Not Like That” -by Petekeyfromyesterday
Gerard settled into his spot on the couch, tucking his legs under him and settling his bowl of popcorn on his lap. He grabbed a handful of the snack and tossed a few kernels into his mouth as he turned on his tv and flipped through the channels. He rolled his eyes as page after page of reality tv shows and infomercials flickered on the screen.
“Fucking hell,” he thought, chewing at another handful of popcorn. “The one night I get alone, and there’s nothing on.”
The black-haired teenager kept on flipping through the channels, hoping something, anything interesting, would appear on the scroll. Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud knock at his door. He looked up at the door suspiciously, wondering who could possibly be on the other side past midnight? He tallied his thoughts quickly, and came to the conclusion that whoever it was was either there to kill him or ask him to join a cult.
He tiptoed over to his door quietly and looked through the peephole. He recognized the face on the other end immediately; black hair, nose and lip rings, big brown puppy eyes: it was Frank Iero.
“He must be here to kill me,” Gerard sighed, opening up the door and looking at his friend. Frank looked up at Gerard and smiled brightly.
“I wanted to see you.” He leaned against the doorframe, seeming a little unsteady.
“Now?” Gerard furrowed his brow confusedly. “You know what time it is, right?”
“Not really,” Frank admitted. “Can’t a guy come visit his friend without getting grilled about it?”
Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but backtracked on his plan immediately. It didn’t seem like it was worth it to argue with Frank. Especially right then.
“Can I come in?” Frank asked, surprising Gerard with his politeness.
“Of course.” Gerard opened up the door all the way and stepped to the side, allowing Frank to pass him. “My parents are away for the weekend and Mikey’s at some party right now. We could watch a movie or something if you want.”
“That sounds great.” Frank stepped through the door politely, which was a surprise to Gerard. It was as if Frank was walking into a brand new friend’s house for the very first time. It wasn’t like Frank to walk into Gerard’s house and act like he was someone who didn’t belong there.
Gerard eyed his friend suspiciously, wondering what could possibly be going on inside his head that was making him act so strange. He looked out into his neighborhood, scanning it for suspicious people. Perhaps Frank was being chased by someone? He didn’t see anyone there, but he decided not to take his chances and locked the door behind him immediately.
“You made popcorn,” Frank observed, settling into his own spot on the couch. “Sick!”
Frank didn’t technically live there, but he might as well have; every day after he got out of school and on most weekends, he was over at Gerard’s house. If Gerard hadn’t been to Frank’s house and met his mom before, he would’ve suspected that the shorter boy didn’t have a solid home to go to.
“Yeah,” Gerard replied, keeping a close eye on Frank. “You can have some if you want. I think there’s some cayenne left. Let me check.”
“Cayenne?” Frank perked up and looked over at Gerard, surprisedly. “I thought you hated spicy food.”
“I do.” Gerard spun the spice rack around, picking up the little container labeled ‘cayenne’ and grabbing an empty bowl before waking back over to his friend. “I just know you like your popcorn with cayenne. I never understood it, but hey, what do I know? Here.”
Frank took the bowl and the little plastic spice container in his hands and smiled delicately.
“I can’t believe you remembered that.” He said, pouring some of of Gerard’s popcorn into his own bowl and dusting it with a layer of the hot spice.
“What, that you like hot stuff?” Gerard chuckled. “I’ve had dinner at your house before; I know how you like your food.”
“No.” Frank grabbed some popcorn and chewed loudly. “That I like cayenne on popcorn. I must’ve told you that, what, five years ago? And you remembered.”
“Oh yeah,” Gerard recalled, with a smile. “I remember that day! You pissed me off so much!”
“Ugh, you were such a goody-goody back then,” Frank snarked, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I snuck in anything big, it was just a little thing of cayenne. Plus, was anyone really gonna check a teenage kid’s pants for contraband spices? We got off scot free!”
“I was not a goody-goody,” Gerard laughed at the story. “I snuck in candy and drinks as much as you did. I was mad because you took the bucket of popcorn that I got for us to share and dumped your cayenne all over it when you knew I didn’t like spicy food!”
“To be fair, you didn’t tell me we were gonna share it,” Frank defended, with a chuckle. “We got there so damn early! When you asked me to save your spot and left, I assumed you were getting another thing of popcorn for yourself.”
“What was it we saw again?” Gerard asked. “I remember liking the movie a lot, but all I can remember right now is how pissed I was at you.”
“Edward Scissorhands,” Frank responded, with a grin. “That was a good fucking movie, actually.”
“You cried at the end!” Gerard realized, as he remembered watching the movie. “I’d never seen you cry before! I didn’t even know what to do.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t cry too, asshole.” Frank broke eye contact with Gerard and blushed bashfully as he defended himself. “Burton’s a genius.”
Gerard laughed softly as he stared at Frank’s cute, blushing face. When the laughter died down, however, so did the happy vibe between them.
“Frank, why are you really here?” Gerard asked, sensitively. “I’m not gonna kick you out or anything, I promise. I just don’t want you to lie to me and say things are okay when they obviously aren’t.”
“Nothing,” Frank lied, gulping nervously. “I-I don’t know…”
“Frank,” Gerard spoke softly, pushing Frank’s chin up so the two of them were looking each other right in the eyes. “Tell me.”
Gerard’s face was one Frank couldn’t lie to, no matter how hard he tried. He knew this, and as he stared into his best friend’s eyes, he realized he needed to speak the truth. He both feared and loved Gerard’s ability to see right through him.
“I couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, averting his eyes from Gerard as he spoke. “I-I was laying there for hours. This little voice in my head just kept telling me that I didn’t deserve to be happy. That nobody really cared about me at all.”
“That’s awful!” Gerard exclaimed, emotionally. He would’ve leaned in and hugged Frank tightly, but he refrained; he knew Frank was too uncomfortable with hugs for that.
Frank looked back up to face Gerard, his puppy eyes pooling with sadness, and continued his story.
“The first thing I thought of was to come see you. I didn’t want you to think I was coming to you for help, I just wanted to talk to you. I knew you’d make me feel better. You always do. That was selfish of me.”
“Don’t say that-“
“No, it’s true,” Frank sighed, his sadness eating away at him. “You were enjoying your time alone and then I had to ruin it with my neediness. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that-“
“I should go.” Frank’s voice weakened as he spoke. He tried to leave, but felt Gerard’s hand tightly clutch his wrist.
“Please stay.” Gerard’s voice was also weakening as he spoke. “I’m not gonna let you go. Not like this. I-I can’t let you… what if y-you-“
He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he took a deep breath, steadied his voice, and looked right into Frank’s eyes dominantly.
“I’m gonna take care of you, okay? You’re gonna stay here until you feel better. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re my best friend. I’m not- I’m not losing you.”
“Best friend,” Frank sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek. “There it fucking is.”
“What?” Gerard gasped, surprised at the abrasive sarcasm in Frank’s voice. “Wh-what did I do? What’s wrong with us being best fr-”
“I love you, Gerard!” Frank shouted, a sob escaping his throat and more tears streaming down his face. “I always have! I-I always wanted to tell you, but I knew you’d tell me it wasn’t like that. ‘Not in that way, Frank.’ Go on, say it! Fucking say it!”
Gerard’s mouth hung open in shock as Frank went through the emotional moment. Silence.
“Say it, Gerard,” Frank’s voice shook as he closed his eyes and began to cry harder. “Tell me it’s not like that for you. Crush me. Give me something. I wanna know the tru-“
Without warning, Gerard leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Frank’s cheek. As he leaned back into his seat, he exhaled and smiled softly, opening his eyes to the sight of Frank’s shocked face.
“Yeah.” Gerard laughed, the sadness in his voice slowly transitioning to happiness. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”
Frank and Gerard looked into each others’ eyes for a moment, each of them silently letting the other know exactly what needed to be known. After that single moment, however, it was Frank’s turn to be the surprising one. Before Gerard knew what was happening, the shorter boy had practically pounced in him and attacked him with a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. Before the taller boy knew it, he was lying on his back on the couch, the shorter boy on top of him, kissing him as if he were making up for years of missed time. Feeling his heart beat faster, Gerard pushed Frank away from him, separating from the kiss.
“Frank, please stop.”
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to move too fast-“
“That’s not the problem!” He pushed Frank off of him and ran off, into the kitchen. “My mouth is fucking burning! Fuck!”
It took Frank a moment or two to realize what had happened.
“Oh my fucking god, the cayenne!” He exclaimed, placing his fingertips over his mouth shamefully. He stifled a chuckle, ashamed that he found the situation somewhat funny as well as incredibly humiliating.
“Gerard, I’m sorry,” He called, unable to stop his laughter.
“Shut up, Frank!” Gerard looked out from the kitchen door and over to Frank. He shoveled spoonfuls of yogurt into his mouth, trying to calm the burning in his mouth.
“Gerard, I’m sorry.” Frank calmed his voice and sincerely apologized. “I didn’t mean to laugh— its just that I realized something: I’m always gonna remember my first kiss as the time I accidentally burned your mouth with cayenne.”
“That was your first kiss?” Gerard grinned softly, in spite of the burning pain he felt. “That’s so cute!”
“Yeah, it was.” Frank grinned. “And it was really good up until the last bit.”
“I disagree,” Gerard chuckled. “I’d say it was pretty hot the whole time.”
Both Frank and Gerard burst into side-splitting laughter at the same time. Despise the pain and the embarrassment they had caused each other that night, the two of them couldn’t have pictured a better night.
Only 40 cinemas originally agreed to show A New Hope. To try and promote the movie, Twentieth Century Fox decided that any cinema showing the highly anticipated film The Other Side Of Midnight must also show A New Hope, which was illegal, and cost them a fine of $25 000.
A New Hope ultimately made $775.4 million at the box office, and The Other Side Of Midnight made just under $25 million.
I live on the other side of the world (Philippines!) so whenever Jack uploads it's like 12 midnight and 3am in my time. I woke up at 2am-ish and I was supposed to go back to sleep but Jack just blew up the community uploading the pic of him with his newly-dyed hair so I couldn't get back to sleep! It's like 9:20 right now and i feel sleepy as hell. Please send help.
i’m answering this a little late but get some sleep yo! dream of anti theories and all that lol 💚
First of all, thank you so much for your lovely comments on the preview part! I was really flattered to receive such a positive review on my very first fic!
Second, @jordan202, I’m more than honored to write the story to your adorable little prompt since I’m a huge fan of the “My Boys” universe and “The Journey”! ♥
So here’s the next part to the story. Hope you enjoy!
Shepherd! What have you been thinking? You can’t just hit another, just because
he didn’t want to share his toys with you!”
he said I was too small to play with bricks and I should go play with the other
babies. Just because he’s bigger as me!”
taller than me, not bigger as me!” Amelia corrected her 4-year old son. She was
still horrified that he was showed violence towards other children, he’d never
done that before. “Anyway, Leo, I had to fix his head today! I want you to
apologise to him tomorrow, and if I hear any bad word from daycare again, you’re
grounded for 2 weeks. Got it?”
When your boyfriend comes home late, you begin to jump to conclusions.
You rolled over on your side of the bed. The other side was empty. Your boyfriend wasn’t home yet. It was after midnight, after all. He hadn’t texted you back yet but you didn’t want to be clingy and send him a thousand text messages at once. He told you earlier that he was coming over tonight. Had he forgotten and went back to his own apartment? You sighed.
What was he doing? Why wasn’t he answering? Who was he with? He told you that he was getting dinner with his coworkers and that he wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight. So you’d eaten by yourself. It wasn’t a big deal, but since it was so late you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really doing.
For someone who had lucked out, he sounded a little strange. Almost…choked up.
Water was on Bonnie’s cheeks but it was being flicked away too fast for her to wipe it. Damon was holding her so that she couldn’t see his face, and he was holding her very, very tightly.
It really was Damon. He had called out the cavalry and, despite the city-wide mind-gridlock, he had found her.
“They hurt you, didn’t they, little redbird? I saw…I saw your face,” Damon said in his new choked-up voice. Bonnie didn’t know what to say. But suddenly she didn’t mind how hard he squeezed her. She even found herself squeezing back.
Suddenly, to her shock, Damon broke her koala-grip and pulled her up and kissed her on the lips very gently. “Little redbird! I’m going to go now, and make them pay for what they did to you.”
Bonnie heard herself say, “No, don’t.”
“No?” Damon repeated, bewildered.
“No,” Bonnie said. She needed Damon with her. She didn’t care what happened to Shinichi. There was a sweetness unfolding inside her, but there was also a rushing in her head. It really was a pity, but in a few moments she would be unconscious.
I was so angry when he stood in front of me asking for another chance. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?” I cried. He stayed quiet, unable to speak. “You can’t just walk away for a year and decide to come back… do you know what I went through for the past year? The tears I shed, the scars I made, waking up every morning with anxiety, I didn’t want to eat and worst of all, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
Despite it being a year, he regretted walking away. He regretted ending things with me but he wants me back. He wanted my warm body against him, he wanted my soft kisses, my love and compassion, my smile… he wants it all back. But for me, that’s a different story.
Park Jimin. The love of my life, I dated him for 3 years in high school until his ex-contacted him and he realised he still loved her. He left me and broke my heart. Then 2 years ago he popped back up on my radar as a customer at work. We hit it off until he disappeared again, after a year spent with me. I found out he had crawled back to his ex from high school. The one he left me for in the first place. The little bitch that turned my innocent, Dance loving, Jimin into a drug-loving, alcoholic. The girl that put my love into a hospital bed after he overdosed. The one that caused him to drop out of school so he couldn’t leave her when he became famous for his dancing, which is what would have happened the way he was going. Park Jimin. My first love and first heartbreak.
“It’s not like you’re the only one hurting.” As soon as he said that, my eyes got wide and I got even angrier. “You left me and you’re messing with my emotions right now.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Why won’t you let me move on as that’s what you wanted, right?”
It’s been a year and he never got over me. No matter what, I was always on his mind and it took losing me to make him realise he made the biggest mistake of his life. Or say he claimed. “Please forgive me. I just needed time to think about all of this,” he said “A year… A FUCKING YEAR!” I screamed with tears in my eyes. “I waited the first few months hoping you would come to your damn senses and come back to me but after a while, I realised you were gone and finally I could breathe again and be myself… who are you to come back into my life and fuck things up again? It’s not fair. This isn’t fair. Because even now…even after the heartbreak, I’m still in love with you, asshole.” I said before slamming the door, “why did he have to come back? Tonight of all nights, just when everything was going fine and now he has messed it all up again,” I sighed to myself sliding down the door to sit on the floor, not realising he was mimicking my action on the other side of the door.
It was well after midnight before I stood and walked to my bedroom. I managed to shower, get ready and lie down before everything just hit me. The feelings, the memories and the heartbreak. Was I willing to go through that again? Just to get the love of my life back? Was I willing to put myself through it for a third time, hoping that this time things would be different? That he had changed? I didn’t come to any conclusions before I passed out, the exhaustion of his arrival hitting me like a ton of bricks.