And this is why I hate you

2.

KSJ

"Uh oh. Someone got teased again," Yoongi's distant voice echoed through the sun-filtered office as I stomped past him, letting the door fall shut with a bang.

My fingernails dug into the flesh of my hand, but they did not provide the needed distraction. My head was still red, and my thoughts ran at a thousand miles an hour. 

Why did he have to get that close? Did that fucker ever hear of personal space?

I definitely needed to win that promotion! And if it was only out of spite! 

I knew, as a fact, that I drew all attention to myself once again as I stomped through the length of the main workroom up to the little room I had as my own office but transformed into a small break room. 

Thankfully, nobody was inside, so I slammed the next door shut and leaned against them, blocking anyone from entering. Slowly but surely, I slid down the wooden frame, sitting on the carpeted floor, my head buried in my hands as I wrestled for my composure.

I distantly recognized that the fucker riled me up so much that my hands were trembling and that my breath came rather irregular. 

I could not have a panic attack. Not now. Not at the office! 

Calm down, Seokjin! It's all right. Everything is okay. It was just a jest. Just Namjoon being stupid, as usual. No need to panic. You do not have the time to panic. Especially not over such a trivial matter. It is well. All is well. 

Everything

is

fine.

FINE.

But my head could not grasp the concept of these words, my body could not calm down, and I felt the way my lungs constricted, and the air seemed to thin out around me. Suddenly, I felt constricted in a bubble, unable to breathe, unable to break out.

Desperate to stop it before I would be a scrambling mess, unable to think, I bit my lips hard and forced my hands to move away from my hair to slap myself slightly. As the motion was repeated several times and somehow became more rigid and more automatic, the pain startled me out of my stupor.

Thank the gods.

I took a deep liberating breath, all the recovery I allowed myself.

Rapping could be heard now, alongside Jungkooks worried voice calling out for me. The poor boy only started working here a few months ago and was not yet used to my violent outbursts. The rest of the office, I was pretty sure, got really good at ignoring my antics and leaving me alone whenever I was in such a state.

"Hyung! Hyung, are you alright?" His voice sounded muffled through the door.

Gulping down hard, I forced myself to smoothly get up, brush my fingers through my hair, and forced a smile on my lips, getting away from the door towards the coffee pot, picking out a cheerful pink cup from the shelf, and filling it to the brim with coffee.

Carefully nipping on it, trying not to spill any of the liquid, I turned around just as Jungkook entered the room.

"Hyung!" he cried and stopped in his tracks as he spotted me standing at the counter, assumingly calmingly sipping on my fifth coffee that day.

"Jungkook, is everything all right?" I asked, smiling calmly at him, taking another careful sip, only now noticing that it was rather lukewarm and therefore did not taste any good.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered, looking at me with his big, round eyes, scanning me up and down, trying to figure out the situation.

Involuntarily his hand wandered up to his ear, where he fidgeted with one of his piercings, turning it around and around, a habit he had, as I noticed, when he was unsure or insecure.