15. Gentleman with a gentle touch

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Fuck it I love you - Lana Del Rey

Jungkook

I put myself in a miserable show of wallowing every night, thinking of Jimin. One would think that I'd be over him. Anyone smart enough and having eyesight enough to see his girlfriend would back the fuck off. Not me.

I didn't have a plan. I didn't know for certain what would happen. But I couldn't will myself to kill the desires of my heart.

Watching Jimin moving in the opposite direction, or stopping laughing at once if he found my eyes on him, it fucking stung. It was as though I was a virus he was desperately safeguarding himself from. Our talk in the gym did nothing to him. I still got his 'special treatment.' To make matters worse, Ulrich had been MIA for so long that I was only realizing now that I'd not seen him come into the dormitory in probably two weeks.

"Where were you?!" I yelled at him right as he entered the room. I was mad in general but I abandoned my thought of throwing a pillow at him when I saw how tired he looked. "I was calling you." I supplied softly.

"I joined a part-time job," he revealed, holding his waist on the left more for relief while tossing the backpack on his bed.

I sat up, walked over to his side, and plopped down on a bean bag that was placed between our beds which I'd bought. We moved it into the entire room based on our needs. It was obvious that Ulrich didn't have as much money. I wondered what kind of relationship his father and Rosenow's father had. On one hand, the bitch came from a financially strong household, but that wasn't the case for poor Ulrich. In my own problems, I forgot that people had it worse than me. "Why- why do you need the job?" I asked as empathetically as I could and only because I wanted to help him, not to patronize him.

Ulrich sighed, his palms softly massaging his eyes before falling back. "The fee will increase next year and I don't want to burden my family more. I want to save some amount so that I can contribute next year." He looked so vulnerable to be sharing this with me and I loved the dude for it.

I couldn't say if he recognized that I was filthy rich. My branded clothes and shoes should've been a dead giveaway, but Ulrich wasn't the kind of guy to pay heed to such things. To make matters worse, I let him pay for me multiple times. Since he was obviously fluent in the language, he was the front face for most of our purchases. I regretted all those liquor store visits now. We were legal, but medical university students weren't sold the liquor as the rules prohibited us from buying.

Thank God for Taehyung Hyung who helped us every time. He was really nice, unlike Jimin. It seemed that no matter how much I tried, he always had a way to make me feel irrelevant, or ordinary. Fuck him for that temporarily.

I needed to focus on Ulrich. "I could help you," I said, not knowing any other way to phrase it without hurting this proud, dear boy.

"Ah," he smiled and shook his head, eyes closing, opening. "I can't take your father's money. My uncle also offered, but I don't really want to. I want to help my dad on my own."

"Then I'll help you. Will you accept it if it's my money? Not my father's?" I asked, my head suddenly coming with numerous ideas.

He grinned cheekily and leaned back on the mattress. "Really?" He asked as I had grown two horns on my head. "Where would you get the money from, pray tell?"

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