AFFAIR FROM HEART

# If you want to see him, you should go

Over the span of twelve days after getting out of the hospital, the only I allowed in my room and would talk to, was Jin. Of course, Dad was the second person I talked to, but he had to get back to work. So really, it was just me and Jin. I was afraid Mom would throw him out of the house too, simply because she wasn't knowing that he is the best friend like brother to Jungkook. But thank god, she didn't. At least I had someone to keep me sane from all that was happening.

I wasn't allowed to see my kook.

My Husband. My love. My Jungkook.

I wasn't allowed to see him.

Even though it was completely unfair and ridiculous, I could not bring myself to go against my mother's word. She's my best friend. She's been my support system every time. She's the only person who I know would never turn her back on me. But now... well I don't want to talk to her until I meet Jungkook.

And I can't even imagine to hurt her because I know I mean a million times more to her than she means to me. I am, literally, her reason to live. Always have been. There hasn't been a day she didn't remind me of that little fact.

"Y/n?"

I sighed to myself, continuing to stare at the walls of my room. I didn't want to answer the person on the door. Felix came every day after the work, knocking every hour or so in hopes that I would finally talk to him. But I wasn't the one to break. I was so mad at Felix.

I blinked furiously as tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. I heard Felix's footsteps retreat silently. I breathed out once again, turning to my side and closing my eyes.

Now in about two hours, Jin would come back from my dance studio (he was sweet enough to offer being beside Jungkook till I got back to health) and we would discuss about what happened at company. He would tell me that Jungkoook asked how I've been. We would sit and talk some more, until it was time for my medicines. I would fall asleep.

Then after I wake up the next morning, I would sit and stare at the walls of my room until it would be evening again. I wouldn't speak a word to my mother, who was trying her best to make things up between us. But I was already sacrificing the most important person in my life to keep peace between us. I couldn't go ahead and pretend that I was okay with it by talking to her. Or Felix.

This is how the twelve days went. Then finally, finally, on the thirteenth day, something changed. I was lounging on my bed, re-reading The Kiss Quotient for the n'th time. I was slowly regaining strength, and could fight back the drowsiness caused due to pain and drugs. All my body parts were fine now, but I hated what had happened to them.

I had scars. Ugly scars. The one on my shoulder was humongous, and I don't think it'll disappear until I die. I won't be able to wear anything strapless. The stitches that were scarring my body.

I think I was more upset about the ones beneath my breast rather than the one on my shoulder. I know it's stupid, considering people won't see that one, but I don't like it. I treasured my plump breasts and shapely ass. And now one of my favorite assets were distorted and made me wary.

Wary of ever exposing my body to Jungkook. That's another stupid thought, because of course Jungkook wouldn't care about my scars. He'll probably feel guilty as fuck when he sees them, but I'm sure he would never call them ugly. I think he'd be the kind of boyfriend to kiss my scars and tell me how I'm beautiful despite that. And then I would probably proceed to give him a piece of my mind. Because these scars that I have? They're ugly. Period.

My skin has been stitched back and I had black and blue blotches almost everywhere on my torso. It's distorted, and I hate it. I hate how it looks in the mirror now. I hate how I have gotten to the day I do not like how I look. I guess it's true when people say you can't always have only happiness in your share of life. I shut the book I was reading and sat up, feeling overwhelmed once again. I don't know why I've been crying so often. It's something I've always done in extremes of situations. Ever since I've come back from the hospital, I cry even if I feel like peeing.