make me cleaner than the dirt on my high top || jeon jungkook ff 21+

1/1

The soft sizzling of eggs being fried and the scent of fried eggs awakens me from my slumber. It must be my boyfriend, Jungkook, making breakfast for the two of us. How sweet.

I go to the bathroom to freshen up, and Jungkook must've heard me go in, because he's towering over me with an unreadable expression, hands behind his back.

"Is something wrong?" I ask innocently.

Suddenly, Jungkook throws water from a glass onto my socks.

"Babe, what the hell?" I say, trying to stay calm. There must be a good explanation for this.

"I'm sorry. I can't be with you any longer," he responds.

I take in a deep breath to stay patient. "Okay, well, we can talk like adults and work this through. Why are you spilling water on my feet?"

"On your socks, actually. You were wearing socks. In the bathroom."

I look at him, completely baffled.

"That's why I'm breaking up with you." he says by way of explanation; he phrases it like it was obvious.

My expression morphs into one of amusement. "Babe, is this a prank?"

"No," he says, completely serious.

"Oh," I say, because I don't know what the appropriate response should be.

And then Jungkook kneels and gently slips the socks off my feet. "Oh?"

"Y/N, I..." Jungkook sighs, cradling my socks in his hands like they were a newborn baby. "This is the real me."

He stuffs the socks halfway in his mouth and sucks. I stand there, worried for my life.

"Get out of my house."

"Why can't you just accept me?!" he yells, but it's muffled by the socks so it sounds more like waho coont yah joos ahcep mah. Nonetheless, I get the gist of it.

"I literally cannot put up with you anymore, Jeon. You just spilled water onto my socks, said you're breaking up with me, and then suddenly take them off and suck them dry? Like, what's not clicking?"

He looks at me, devastated. He takes the socks out of his mouth. "I thought you'd accept me, so I showed you my most authentic self. I like sucking socks dry, Y/N. This is who I am... all I've ever been."

"So all you said before was just a setup to do this?"

He nods, still kneeling on the floor, socks clutched in hand; my neck hurts from craning down to look at him.

I look away, towards the showerhead. "Just... just leave."

He gets up without a word, as if he expected this. I feel a stroke of guilt at that. "Here," he says, trying to hand me the socks.

I shake my head. "I'm never wearing those again. Take them with you."

And so he leaves. For good. Tears prick the corners of my big *insert your eye colour* orbs.

I scrunch my nose. Something smells. And then it hits: oh my god, the eggs. They're burning.