Like a bad habit, we find our way back to each other. No matter what terrible things we put each other though, we always do.
Like an addiction, I possess a deep desire for him and him the same. It's unstoppable, the way we crave each other.
A vice.
...
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January 31
Aira's
I sat there, emotionlessly staring at him. His words hadn't sunk in yet and for a moment, as I stared into his dark eyes, I saw him hurting. But as I processed his claim— or confession— my heartbeat accelerated. It was what I feared from the very beginning; him being a bad person capable of horrible things. I always called him a bad person and even accused of him killing my brother but, I never actually meant it.
"W-what?" My eyes widened. "He didn't die by murder, he died by suicide.." I said.
Jungkook looked at me, poker-faced of course. He wet his lips. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked me.
No.
"Jungkook..." I let out a soft gasp, eyes watering in shock. "This isn't funny."
"Why would I joke about this?"
I gulped. There was a feeling of betrayal flooding my inner self. I felt hurt while also refusing to believe him. "I— I'm.." I stuttered, standing up.
He simply watched me, pupils following my figure as I rushed out of his room. I stormed into mine, locking the door behind me. I was breathing heavily, the shock was hitting me hard. He couldn't possibly have killed a person.
I sat down and thought long and hard about it. My heart convinced my mind that it couldn't be true. My Jungkook, regardless of how arrogant and cold he is, isn't capable of taking another human's life. He saved my life before and he's helping Namjoon save his as well. He was playing some sort of sick joke on me.
I left my room and found him lying in his bed this time. I stomped over to the side of the bed and grabbed his hand. Jungkook looked at me, clearly surprised.
"I don't believe you," I said with determination to prove my fears wrong.
His eyes fell back into neutral as he sat up, removing his hand from mine. He lifted his shirt to my surprise, showing me the scar he has on the side of his stomach. "This scar,"
"What about it?" I asked, looking away from his abs.
"I got it that day," he said. "the day he died."
I stiffened. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you, Aira."
"But— but, you saved my life! Do you expect me to believe that you would kill someone?"
"You're just saying this messed up shit because you want me stop liking you, right? I get it, you're emotionally unavailable and you don't feel shit for me but, you don't have to lie about something this serious!"
