Him | A Kim Namjoon Fanfiction | COMPLETED

Twenty Two

How could he? After everything. I had opened up to him more than I ever had to anyone. And this is how he treats me? I thought I'd finally found someone good. Someone genuine and caring. But clearly that was all just a front. I knew I was difficult to deal with, but I never thought I'd been so difficult he had to cheat on me.

I had been curled up on my living room floor, sobbing for about half an hour when I heard a knock on the front door.

"Go away!" I shouted, thinking Namjoon had crawled back. But a dark haired petite boy cracked the door open. Jungkook.

"Hey Pabo. What you crying for what's happened?" He rushed over and swept me up his arms." I heard shouting a little while ago, did something happen?"

"I walked in on Namjoon kissing Chae!" I wept.

"Are you sure? That doesn't really seem li-"

"Of course I'm sure!" I yelled, cutting him off before he could defend he traitor. He didn't say anything, he just sighed and held me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head.

I must have cried myself to sleep in Jungkook's arms because I woke up in my bed. It was still dark outside, and I couldn't see Jungkook anywhere, until I turned the bedside light on to find him sound asleep on top of the fluffy grey rug next to the bed, his dark mop covering his eyes. I was so grateful for him. Why couldn't I have fallen for him instead? Maybe I wouldn't be feeling this if I had.

But it was Namjoon. It's always been Namjoon. And I hated myself for it. For letting myself get close to him. For trusting him. For not seeing through him sooner. I wanted to completely erase his existence from my mind and forget any of this. I wanted to hate him. But I just couldn't. And I think that hurt more than the actual betrayal. That I still loved him. That's what makes him so different from Sam. There were so many red flags that by the time he had gone, I was disappointed but so very far from surprised. So it was easy to hate him. But there were no warning signs with Namjoon. Nothing that pointed to him being a complete twat. He was the kindest, sweetest soul I had ever met. None of this made any sense. Maybe I should've heard him out before I made him leave. But I was just so furious, I wanted him as far away from me as possible.

Should I call him? I thought. No. I couldn't hear his voice. I would either break down or forgive him instantly. And I had more respect for myself than to do that. I couldn't let myself be walked all over again. If I forgave this, how much more will I excuse? How much further will he go, knowing he could open his arms and make me come running. No. I had to move on. I had to be done.

I turned my phone off and walked over to the wardrobe to grab a blanket for Jungkook. I found the softest most comfortable one I could find, a large black weighted throw, and draped it over Jungkooks shoulders, before heading into the kitchen to make myself a hot chocolate.

I made it exactly how Joon always made it for me when I was sick or upset. Super chocolatey, whipped cream and sprinkles. I instantly hated how even such a tiny simple task reminded me of him so much. Everything in the apartment had him all over it. From his scent to fond memories of nights cuddled up together on the couch, or eating breakfast together every morning at the dining table, or even the many times we did it on that rug. I needed to stop thinking about him. I didn't want to think anymore. My mind had done more damage to my heart than Namjoon. I just wanted to melt into nothing and forget this night ever happened. I considered trying to get back to sleep, just to escape, even for a little while, but I was wide awake by that point. There was no way my mind would calm enough to let me sleep. The thoughts of him and what he'd done would race endlessly as I tossed and turned between the silky soft sheets that smelt so strongly of him. There was no getting back to sleep. But I was fidgety and restless and I didn't know what to do with my self. So I just sat on the kitchen floor and cried and cried until there were no more tears left. It felt like having my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on over and over and over again. I was still so angry. Angry beyond comprehension. And I was tired of feeling angry.

'You'll get over him eventually.' I thought. 'one day you'll wake up and you won't remember how his laugh sounds, or the shape of his dimple, and you'll be okay'

God, I hoped that was true.