Matcha kind of love || JJK

28. Foreign Labels

The rest of the day went by agonizingly slow and was pretty uneventful. Chaisee had to go back to work not long after we finished eating, so I was left to myself once again. I ended up in an empty dance studio most of the day, trying to avoid people at all costs.

Knowing that everyone was watching and judging me made me feel anxious, the lingering feelings of my panic attack persistently surfacing in my mind. I hadn't seen any of the boys in a while, assuming they were busy with work. My mind was unfocused as I stared blankly at the screen of my laptop for the seventh time today. I felt a sense of deja vu as the words displayed on the screen blurred into one big blob.

A long sigh left my lips as I looked around the room I was sitting in. The black cherry wood contrasted with the bright white walls of the studio. Mirrors lined the wall in front of me as I stared at my reflection. My short hair was messily pulled into a ponytail, bangs unevenly framing my face. The purple highlights were faded against my black hair, giving way to my dark roots. My eyes were tired and dull as I scanned my appearance. I look like a zombie from the walking dead, I sigh to myself.

Looking around the dance studio, old memories of my highschool years surfaced in my mind. I used to dance all the time with Hana because we would cover Kpop dances and post them on youtube. After we graduated, we didn't have as much free time and our account was left to collect dust.

I wasn't the best dancer but I enjoy the process of learning a new song. Thinking back, Hana and I probably looked extremely weird together because she was a contemporary dancer and I was just a self-taught Kpop dancer.

As much as I wanted to get up and dance for no reason, I knew with my luck someone would walk in and catch me dancing like a fish out of water. I did not want to embarrass myself like that, especially since everyone was apparently trying to see me. It felt weird being the subject of people's conversations.

When I was looking for an empty room, I overheard some people talking about me. They were whispering things like "I wonder if she paid them to let her be in there with them" and "I saw her go into the studio, she was fat and ugly. I don't know why Bangtan would interact with someone as hideous as her,". I would be lying if I said their comments didn't hurt, but I knew talking back would only make things worse.

I rest my head on the wall behind me and take a deep breath. Today was a roller coaster of emotions, so many things happened in the span of a few hours. I was tired; both mentally and physically. Thinking about the events that occurred made my head hurt. I allow my eyelids to drop, enjoying the newfound darkness.

I suddenly felt an arm around my shoulder, a hand guiding my face to their shoulder. My eyes shoot open only to see the famous bunny smile staring back at me. Before I could say anything, Jungkook shook his head and gently pushed my head onto his chest. I smile and comply as he pulls me onto his lap, arms wrapping around me.

The smell of his cologne was strong but comforting, allowing my mind to relax in his embrace. "You ok love?" Jungkook quietly asks, gently massaging my scalp. I hum in contentment, his fingers doing wonders in relieving my pounding headache. He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

I listen quietly to the rhythmic beating of his heart, noticing it was racing rather fast. I smile to myself and snuggle closer to him. Everything about this moment was amazing and I never wanted it to end.

The way he held me so gently made me feel loved and cared for. I had never felt this type of comfort or safety in someone's arms. Everything about this man had me swooning, the simplest smile sending me into cardiac arrest.

We stayed like that for a while, using each other to re-energize. I glance at the clock hanging above the door expecting it to be around 7 but the clock showed 11 pm. I've been here for over 16 hours?! God damn, no wonder I almost lost my mind because of boredom.