❃ 𝗙𝗔𝗡 𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 ❃
❛Ours isn't a fairytale love, baby.❜
━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━
New Year's or no New Year's, the infamous Jungkook had somehow found his way onto everybody's lips again. He always did.
But this time, it wasn't because of...
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The empty hallway echoed with the sound of the wind—its only visitors. Outside, the trees rustled like a crowd in celebration, while thunder joined the distant cheers and applause spilling from the school auditorium. Lightning flashed across the darkening sky, warning of an unexpected storm approaching the city. But it was no match for the storm brewing inside a lonely boy, who wept in a cramped closet, trying to mend his broken heart.
His bloodshot eyes stung, and the salty tears seared his raw skin. The agony twisting inside him made it hard to steady his strained breath. He clenched the thin fabric over his chest, pressing against his pounding heart. Though it didn't erase his pain, the touch helped ease its frantic rhythm, and his ragged breathing began to slow. His heavy eyelids closed on their own as he leaned back.
A weary sigh slipped through his parted lips, and he ran his fingers through his damp, sweaty hair before dragging them down to wipe away the last stray tears.
The eerie silence around him drew his mind back to the moment he ran, a coward fleeing instead of facing the catastrophe. He had always known that the girl he cherished—the one he saw himself as a knight for—would ultimately belong to someone else, her prince.
Yet knowing the ending didn't prepare him for the sight of her being kissed by another. All the warnings he’d given himself and the distance he tried to keep for days crumbled when his heart finally shattered. He couldn't bear the stabbing pain. So he fled.
Soft sobs escaped him, and tears blurred his vision as the pain surged back, hitting him with tenfold force, stirring rage to scorn his own cowardice. A bitter growl tore from his throat, bile rising as his anger swelled. His once pale knuckles were now flushed crimson as he pounded his fists against the hard surface in front of him. With one final punch, he screamed into the emptiness until his senses grew numb to the pain.
He buried his face in his hands, panting heavily, as time seemed to mourn alongside his unhealed wounds. He didn't notice how long he had been lost in his grief until the sound of clicking heels and hurried footsteps pulled him back to the present.
Suddenly aware of his surroundings, a wave of apprehension hit him, and he decided it was time to leave the closet. But just as his trembling hand grasped the doorknob, he froze at the sharp cry of a female voice: "Don't!"
He froze, uncertain if the word was meant for him as the voice sounded familiar. Before he could dwell on it, a man's voice, filled with regret, snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Just listen to me, please," the man pleaded from behind her.
"I don't need your explanations," she said coldly. "The damage was done long ago, and I've come to terms with it over the years."
