Can't Be Without You | Jungkook

Part 9

**

You do your usual with Jungkook. You force yourself to steady your breathing, even when you spot the blood-drenched tapes wrapped around his knuckles. He winces when you unwrap and clean them, willing yourself not to scold him or break down at the sight, knowing that the state of his hands imply just how much he'd hurt the other person and himself.

He insists on taking a shower as you clean up and prepare the supplies. He sits down on his tiny couch after, pliant as you instruct him to lay out his hands and to not move.

You don't meet his eyes, not when you clean his wounded knuckles, not when you help him put a shirt on, and not when you treat the cuts on his face. His eyes remain on you, though, and in the quiet of the night, with the droplets of the incoming rain the only other sound in his studio, you wish he doesn't hear the rapid beating of your heart.

"Why won't you look at me?" He asks.

He's met with silence.

As you're about to place the bandage on the area above his eye, he dodges you. You sigh in annoyance.

"___, why won't you look at me?"

"I'm tired, Jungkook," you respond, gently turning his face so you can place the bandage properly.

"Is that it?"

He seems determined to get an answer, his eyes boring into you with every movement you make.

"I can't look at you without wanting to cry," you finally admit, dropping your hands and rubbing your head with them. You're still lightheaded, and Jungkook staring at you isn't helping at all.

"I can't look at you without being upset, and scared, and worried." But you force yourself to do so anyway. "Why do you do this to yourself, Kook? Why do you do this to me?"

He doesn't miss the crack in your voice, the desperation slowly revealing itself.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you really?" You ask incredulously.

He nods slightly. "I didn't wanna go to you because I didn't want you to worry."

You sigh at how silly he sounds, as if he doesn't know you well enough.

"I worry anyway, Jungkook. I come anyway. I forgive you anyway." You look at him and try desperately to find the man he once was. "Doesn't mean you get to keep doing this; doesn't mean it doesn't hurt me, too."

Hurt you. That's the second thing he doesn't want after losing you. He tries not to do both but somehow, he thinks it's all he's been doing.

He has no words to say just how sorry he feels or how scared he is. So he pulls you in a hug, flushing your face on his thinly-covered chest where you inhale his natural, fresh scent that quite frankly still takes your breath away. He holds you the way he had hundreds of times before, comforting you, letting you know that things will be okay, although this time, he does it, too, as if to beg you not to give up on him, something he never thought he'd ever ask of you because he never wanted to put you in a position where you would.

You stay there a while, the sounds of your heavy breathing now joining the droplets on the window. You try to listen to his heartbeat to steady your own but his is beating just as fast as yours is, if not faster. Then he moves his hands to cup both your cheeks and he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. He lifts your face a little bit, his eyes drowning in yours, and he kisses your forehead, too. He meets you halfway until you're both face-to-face, eyes now darting down your plush lips as he licks his own, and your breath hitches.