Apricity//Jungkook fanfiction//

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊ - ❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

          "Reports all across the globe say that the heatwave will continue throughout the whole month of August, just like it did the month before." — says the reporter and Y/n sighs heavily as she turns off the TV. Rushing towards her bedroom, she hits her legs against Bam, who jumps energetically on her. Y/n chuckles, scratching the dog's ears. "I would love to play too, boy, but I really need to go." — she says and avoids stepping on the dog's tail when she picks up her pace down the hall. "Duty calls!" — she yells over her shoulder and listens to the sound of Bam's claws scratching the wood. Throwing the shirt she just ironed a minute ago on her body, she struggles to close the buttons in a hurry. She picks up her purse and the badge with her name written on it and kisses Bam on top of his head before closing the door behind her with a thud.
          Opening the door that leads to Violet's office, Y/n rushes inside, placing the cup of coffee she bought on her way here in front of her boss. Violet raises one eyebrow. "You're late, assistant Jang. Again." — she says in a cold, distant voice, fit for a superior. Y/n smiles and throws her purse on her small desk. She huffs and throws herself in her work chair. "I lost the bus." — she lies through heavy breaths and suppresses a laugh when Violet rolls her eyes. The detective takes the cup in her hand and sits on top of her desk, sipping the bitter coffee. She grimaces. "This is disgusting, Y/n! Where did you get this coffee from?" — she asks as she almost throws the cup in the trash can. However, her assistant tosses a sugar sachet at her and she catches it in mid-air. "Chill. I carry the sugar in my bag." — says Y/n and waves her hands near her sweaty face. Violet bites off the edge of the sachet, with her eyes glued to the gleam spread across Y/n's face, before pouring its content in her coffee. "I thought that you carry that sweetness somewhere else." — flirts Violet shamelessly and yells when Y/n throws a neck pillow at her. "You bitch!" — yells Y/n from across the room and a bright smile burns on her lips as her boss pokes her cheek with her tongue angrily. "I can fire you anytime, you know that, right?" — yells Violet back. Y/n sticks out her tongue and chuckles. "And you also know that you won't find a better assistant than me." — she replies and waits for her computer to turn on.
          A picture of her and Jungkook pops up on the lockscreen and Y/n types Jungkook's birth date to unlock the device. Sighing, Violet approaches Y/n. "Still no sign from that bastard?" — she asks about the leader of the Dark Orchid gang. Y/n takes a sip from her own coffee and shakes her head. "It's as if he vanished. I couldn't find a single footprint left behind in the system." — she answers and clicks on a document while she wipes her forehead with a napkin. Violet sighs again. "It's been six months since he visited Jungkook in prison. He couldn't have just disappeared." — she states and Y/n shrugs. "This guy's a ghost." — says Y/n and looks at Hyun Woo's picture, something she's seen hundreds, maybe thousands of times over the past few months.
          "We will find him somehow." — says Violet and, the way she says it, it makes it sound like a promise. Y/n nods, staring deeply into her friend's eyes. "I sure hope so." — she answers and, as soon as a file opens on her desktop, she pulls her coffee closer and adjusts the glasses on her nose. She is determined to get Jungkook out of prison. That's why she closed down her tattoo parlor and has been working as Violet's assistant for over five months and a half now. This was the only way. The right way. She doesn't care about how many hours she's spent so far in front of the screen or how many more she has to spend. She wants to find something. A clue. A little help to get Jungkook out of prison. That's why she chose this job in the police station. Like this, with Violet's help, she has more access to important information and can follow leads that she wouldn't even be able to think of back on her couch, hunched over her laptop. And, besides, she has the chance to spend more time with Violet. The one who was there for her. Through thick and thin. Through sickness and health. The one and only who didn't let her down when tears robbed her of her beauty, leaving behind only the ruins of a heartbreak.
          "What are you thinking about so deeply, gorgeous?" — hums Violet as she grabs a bunch of files from Y/n's desk. Y/n's eyes travel upwards, meeting Violet's playful gaze. "I was just reminiscing." — she answers with a soft smile. Violet frowns. "About?" — asks the detective. Her assistant shrugs. "About how drastically my life changed a few months ago." — she tells the truth and smiles when Violet tilts her head. "Do you regret it?" — asks Violet as if the two of them didn't talk about this already. Y/n shakes her head, the same way she did many times before, answering the question. "No. Not at all." — she confesses. Violet pinches her friend's cheek. "You're so strong of a soldier." — she praises Y/n and this one blushes slightly under her friend's soft touch.
          The door opens and Violet withdraws her hand slowly from Y/n's face as Nabi, one of the cutest yet hottest female police officers in the entire section, enters Violet's office. Y/n notices the gazes shared by the two women and she covers her mouth, faking a cough as she hides a smile. "The boss. She needs you. Important paperwork." — says Nabi calmly and Y/n almost chokes on the coffee she's sipping. Violet nods and walks casually past Nabi, arranging the collar of her shirt on her way out of the office. Y/n tilts her head, inhaling a sharp breath. She knows that there isn't a boss that needs Violet right now. Because every time Nabi says something about paperwork, she and Violet end up crammed in one of the women's bathroom stalls, making out hungrily and gulping down each other's moans as if they are back in Highschool. Y/n's cheeks heat up and she picks up her hand fan from the desk, trying to cool down the heat left behind by the August weather, as she shifts her gaze back to the screen.
          Noticing the reflection of the screen in the nurse's glasses, Y/n waits patiently for this one to find her mother's name among the others that pop up. "Jang Da Eun, right?" — asks the nurse and Y/n nods with a smile. Then, with soft steps, she walks down the hall that she already knows by heart. Opening the door that leads to her mother's room, she smiles widely. "Mother!" — she says in a soft voice and her heart fills with happiness at the sight of her mother looking healthier than ever. Jang Da Eun lifts her gaze from the book she's reading and her face lights up immediately at the sight of her daughter. "Y/n!" — she exclaims happily, but her smile fades away slightly when the door closes behind Y/n. "Are you all by yourself again?" — asks the mother in a sad voice and Y/n nods. Silence reigns for a moment and Y/n sits down on the bed, hugging her mother tightly. "Didn't you miss me?" — asks Y/n with a slight pout, even though she saw her mother last week. Her mother pouts back and cups her daughter's face.
          "Of course I did." — she answers, squishing Y/n's cheeks, but her eyes reflect a sadness Y/n hasn't really seen before. "But I really miss Jungkook too. I haven't seen him in so long. Can you tell him to visit me as soon as possible?" — she asks with hope conquering the sadness she showed a moment ago and Y/n nods softly. She didn't tell her mother that Jungkook couldn't visit because he has been locked behind bars. She couldn't find the strength within herself to tell her mother the truth. So she lied instead. And, as her gaze drifts away, her heart breaks. Because she would also love to see Jungkook's face from up close. She would love to touch him. To feel him. To breathe him. The past six months felt like a slow torture and, at the thought of waiting fifteen more years, Y/n shudders. She might as well become a nun, then. No way she's leaving Jungkook locked in that wretched place for so long of a time. She has to get him out somehow. She knows she can do it. She just has to dig deeper. Even if that means getting dirty, she's ready to do it all. She's ready to bring Jungkook back home.
          Y/n's eyes swipe across the Yin tattoo near her thumb and she feels tears stinging her eyes as she closes them tightly, still seeing the image of the meaningful tattoo in the dark that engulfed her vision. She is going to bring Jungkook back home. That's not a promise. It's a statement.
          Caressing the Yang tattoo on his left hand, Jungkook feels a smile twitching on his lips. What is Y/n doing right now? Is she thinking about him as much as he's thinking about her? Is she eating well? Is she sleeping well? A sigh escapes through his lips. So many questions are roaming inside his head yet his brain refuses to answer any of them. Is there a possibility to step out of your own body? To transform into a soft breeze or one shy ray of the sun? Because, if there existed something like this, Jungkook would gladly do it. Just to be able to brush through Y/n's hair or to caress her cheek on a sunny day. Jungkook would even trade his soul to be beside her once again. He misses her so much. She became the air he's breathing so, how is he supposed to survive so far away from her?
          He didn't. He didn't survive. He suffocated so many times. He died and was brought back to life by the loud whistle of the guardian in the morning. Everyday feels like it's playing in slow motion. For the past six months, he has died in so many cruel ways. And, as sadly as it can be, every single time he died alone. Y/n wasn't there to pull him out of the cold abyss he fell into. But then, as a sweet salvation that persisted on his skin, he saw her bright face when she visited him every week. His heart was revived by her smile, his ears woke up to life again when he heard her voice, the oxygen in his lungs bloomed like flowers. He would keep his palm pressed against the glass panel, so close yet unable to touch her. He would reach out desperately. And she would press her palm on top of his, the hope in her eyes often managing to melt the glass away. She always reassured him. She always promised she would come back to him and, one day, they would walk through the exit of the prison together.
          But, as soon as she stood up from the little stool, as soon as she hung up the phone that connected their mouths and ears, Jungkook's body would shut down again. It felt like someone disconnected him from a life support machine. And he suffocated again. He died again. Over and over.
          "What are you still doing here, Captain? Let's go! We need to get ready for tonight." — whispers his bunkmate as he storms inside the cell and Jungkook flinches, feeling his eyes hurting when his gaze gets ripped from his tattoo. He frowns. "What's happening tonight?" — he asks confusedly as he sits up. His bunkmate sits on the bed. "Didn't you hear? Mad Dog and his men have been plotting a riot for months already. They will put it in action tonight. We will be able to escape this Hell hole, finally." — says the man excitedly and shakes his fists in the air as he stands up.
          Jungkook stands up too, suddenly feeling revived, and, as he walks down the hall and into the yard, he hides his smile. A plan shapes up inside his brain. All he has to do is carry it out successfully.