Nobody Knows | Jeon Jungkook

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I lie with my back on my bed, my gaze fixed on the ceiling and one arm resting under my head. The fingers of my other hand, placed over the material of my sleeveless shirt on my stomach, are tapping on it to a non-existent melody.

I sigh, sleep doesn't seem to cross my path today, though I have to get up early tomorrow so I'm not late for my lecture again. I read past midnight on the small clock that sits on my side table and I look back up at the plain ceiling, illuminated only by the faint light of my table lamp.

I'm frustrated. I noticed that when the girl in the library told me, though I laughed at it at first. I just can't explain the reason for it. Is it because of Irina? The guy Taehyung who always gets on my nerves? Or the girl who couldn't get me to finish?

Maybe the statement I made in the library wasn't entirely nice, but I couldn't have cared less. It was rude, yes, but I was upset and she was the only one around me that I could vent my anger to in order to feel better again. I need to sort out my mind because I haven't found myself thinking about one issue like this in a long time.

I don't care what Irina thinks about me. She can think I'm a playboy all she wants because somehow it's true. But there's something about her saying it. It confuses me that one day she is normal and talking to me and the next day she doesn't seem to know me and is banging out statements like that. It seems like she has a stick up her ass and mood swings like a pregnant woman.

I don't even know why I'm just lying in my bed in the middle of the night analyzing a girl who doesn't know my ass. Who is she anyway?

I decide instead of racking my brain to send my mom a message because I forgot to call her after talking to my uncle. I can already guess how much she misses me and although I'm not really a warm-hearted person, she is very important to me.

It should be afternoon now in Korea and she's probably just out of work, so it's the perfect time to text her. I type on my phone to ask how she is doing. But before I can finish typing the message, I hear a light knock on my door.

My eyebrows draw together in puzzlement. Who would come to my room at this hour? I lock my phone and get up from my bed. Walking to my door, I open it and my eyebrows raise at the sight of my visitor.

"Irina?"

She stands in front of the door, glancing to the right and left, probably checking to see if anyone has seen her. She's wearing normal clothes this time, I mean, clothes that you would wear every day. Instead of her high heels, she has on flat white sneakers. Her long legs are hugged by simple black leggings and over them, she is wearing an oversized black hoodie. Our eyes meet after she has checked the hallway.

"Can I come in?" she asks after a few seconds of eye contact.

"Yes, of course," I say as I give her room to enter and it doesn't occur to me until I smell her fresh scent as she walks past me that she probably must have showered before coming here.

"You can sit down." I offer after closing the door and seeing her standing in the middle of my room. She nods and plops down on the soft surface, her long hair still a little wet at the tips bouncing. "How did you get in here? No one comes in at night who doesn't live here."

I look at her with curious eyes as I take a seat next to her on my bed. She looks so different from the other days I've seen her. Her makeup-free face makes her look younger and there is also something different about her facial expression that I can't explain yet.