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Jungkook felt deja vu sitting restlessly in the plane. Namjoon was beside him and his leg wouldn't stop shaking. They had a month off. A whole month. The tour had gone effortlessly, so much so that Jungkook had felt almost robotic in his execution for the most of it. Now he had a month off and only one problem to resolve, the rest of his time was free to do with as he wished. They had more breaks these days, being reliably established in both the Korean music industry as well as the international stage. It was almost ironic. The more demand there was for them, the less they were expected to do.
"Jungkook-ah, sit still, you're sending me insane," Jin grumbled, his hand heavily clapping onto the bouncing thigh.
"Sorry," he mumbled, fighting his grin. He was excited, he couldn't help it.
"Does Mimie even know you're coming home?"
"I texted her," Kook nodded although he wavered after the words had escaped. "She didn't reply, but I texted her."
In fact, their guess was as good as his when it came to Mimie. She'd been completely off the grid since she'd left Berlin, but Jungkook refused to be dissuaded because when she'd told him she loved him, he had believed her.
The maknae couldn't get off the plane fast enough, darting to the front of the boys as they went through their private customs desk. He was all but twitching, not even noticing his hyung's giggling from behind. He'd not been reeling this much since they'd been to Wemberly. It was impossible not to get swept up in his excitement, his bunny-like grin splitting his face as the car pulled closer and closer to their dorms.
Practically bounding into their apartment, he dropped his bags on his bed and jumped straight into the shower. Within ten minutes he was clean and dressed in fresh clothes and running back out the door. Namjoon didn't even bother pointing out that they had a debrief from the tour in the morning, assuming that they weren't likely to see Jungkook for a few days now, judging by the larger camera bag he'd opted on taking with him.
After his first visit to Mimie's apartment, he had the best route there plastered in his memory. He was in a rush but opted on walking. They'd been cooped up in the plane for almost a whole day and the sky looked so pretty as the sunset over the city. Just thinking about seeing her again had his heart spasming out of control. Every muscle in his body was screaming for him to break into a run, but he kept walking anyway.
The lift was agonisingly slow; the music playing seemed to be taunting him. Already he wasn't fond of the machines, but this one seemed especially slow and that wasn't right. Was it broken? Should he have taken the stairs?
His panicked thoughts were cut off by the doors sliding open and allowing him to escape the death box. Her door stuck out as usual. The only green door in the hallway, she'd even painted a vine of flowers along one side. His hand ran over her brush strokes fondly before he finally knocked. The face that greeted him was made up with makeup and shared similar features to Mimie, but her scraped back hair was the wrong length.
