Encounter

Chapter 15

As I walked out of Jungkook's apartment, the first thing I thought was, "How am I going to move on from this?" Maybe "survive" is too much, but given everything he put me through, it feels like the right word to use.

I made the decision right then and there because I don't want to hurt myself anymore. I know this situation has already caused me pain, but I can't risk another problem from his past popping up when we're happy again. Besides, maybe returning to Hawaii will make it easier for me to forget him. I mean, being on the other side of the world has its advantage if you are broken hearted—he can't just pop up and mess with my head whenever he wants.

I guess, this is more better than forcing myself to fix him. He has a lot of issues and I don't want to be part of his issues anymore. I gave him a chance to make me understand everything, but his solution was to leave me again.

I didn't take my phone or wallet with me—nothing but myself in this little short when we left Yoongi's apartment. Even if I had cash on me, I wouldn't know how to get to his place. It's ironic how I promised I'd be back, yet I have no clue how to return there.

Standing in the hallway, I felt completely lost. A part of me desperately wanted to rush to the airport and catch the first flight going home, leaving everything behind. But I had important things at Yoongi and Sakura's apartment, like my passport, phone and other things so that plan was out of reach for now. And I don't have any solid plan at the moment.
Just only, runaway.

While waiting for the elevator, I couldn't help but keep looking back at his apartment direction. The elevator numbers crawled up slowly, still stuck down in the basement. Each second felt like forever, and I just hoped it wouldn't take five whole minutes. My foot was tapping nervously, and I caught myself biting my nails. I tried to stop the tears, but they came anyway. Crying again. It hurt so much to leave things like this.

I hated how he left the decision to end things entirely up to me, as if it didn't matter enough for him to even try to talk it out with me. It was like he was silently saying he was perfectly okay with me walking away. That indifference hurt more than I wanted to acknowledge, and it stuck with me longer than I'd like to think about.

"Why the hell is this elevator still on the basement," I mutter, murdering the up button repeatedly. And seriously, why on earth is there only one elevator in such an expensive building?

I look to my left and then right. The dim glow of the "FIRE EXIT" sign at the end of the hallway catches my eye. We're only on the seventh floor, so taking the stairs wouldn't be too bad. The problem is, I'd have to walk right past his apartment door to get there. The fire exit is on that side of the building, taunting me with its proximity to the very place I'm trying to avoid.

I throw one last desperate glance at the elevator display, silently willing it to move. But it remains stubbornly frozen on "B". Hell no, I can't wait any longer. I need to get out of here, and at this point, I don't care how.

As I steel myself to make a dash for the stairwell, I glance down and realize I'm still wearing Yoongi's slippers, my toes sliding out, making it hard for me to walk properly. And if I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror right now, I'd probably look like a disheveled mess – a person without a home, without direction. Funny how I am, trying to escape this place, this country even, and I can't even manage to have a proper footwear.

God, help me. Now. My feet start carrying me forward before my brain can second-guess the decision. I'm not quite running, but my walk is brisk enough that it might look like I'm fleeing from something. Well, I suppose I am.

Just a few more steps, and I'll be past it. Then I'll be safe. Well, safer at least. I pick up my pace, my borrowed slippers making soft shuffling sounds against the carpeted hallway.