***TW: Mature content ahead.*** Reminder: this story is a work of fiction. The characters are not related to BTS nor do they represent them in any way, shape, or form.
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Trust is a word with a single definition. To believe. Unconditionally. Blindly. Fully and completely. See, many people confuse trust with faith. Jungkook did the same. The moment he gave you his trust, he also gave you his heart, and with that, you gained his faith. You became the axis of his earth. The gravity that science had proven. Everything that concerned you had nothing to do with theories, but with facts. Realities. Truths he believed in and refused to see even a hint of a lie in.
The truths you represented to him included but were not limited to your love, the fact that you had chosen him out of all the people in the world, and the loyalty you had sworn to him. A loyalty he questioned when he saw you outside that condo, ringing a bell he didn't know who it belonged to, standing in front of a door that belonged to someone who wasn't him. A loyalty he doubted when he saw you with Seokjin in front of SK Holding, mumbling words he couldn't hear. Words that became so loud when Seokjin placed his palm on the small of your back as he led you to your car that the valet had brought to the main entrance of the building.
Jungkook had always been a busy man. He had cases to investigate, verdicts to make and his sister's killer to catch. Still, the doubts that lingered around your fidelity became the task he had chosen over those mentioned above. Why? The answer was actually quite simple. You were and always will be a priority. The light at the end of the dark tunnel he had found himself in after his sister's death. The remnant of hope. Of life. Of innocence.
Funny! Really. Because now this innocence was beginning to look like a stain. A white satin tarnished in mud. But Jungkook was ready to clean it. He would scrub it with his hands until the dirt fell off. If not, he would dye the whole thing scarlet.
Scarlet, like the hue left behind by his unyielding fingertips that probed every sliver of skin on your body, starting with your neck and ending with your hipbone.
"Jungkook!" You cried.
But Jungkook was lost. He was going deaf. He lost his senses, just as you lost your allegiance to him on the steps of unknown doors and in the embrace of other men. His demons were let out to fight your infidelity. They were released to speak words he could not utter. Accusations he failed to voice. Topics he dared not open. See, Jungkook was always afraid of the day you would leave him. He was sure that day would come tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. He was a man with many secrets and a troubled psyche. He believed that a woman of books and fictional words would never cope with a man who was so in touch with reality. That's why he never pointed out the things that would cause a heated argument. He never told you that your hair smelled like stale tar. At the time, he believed that you had picked up this nasty habit due to stress; stress that he may have caused you. Now he doubted that theory. You wouldn't smoke; it was beneath you. Your fucktoy left that smell behind.
