Stupid Hot Neighbor | Jungkook x Reader

19

The next few days after Jungkook left for Paris drag on painfully slow. Your heart feels like it's stuck in a fog, and you've fallen into a new routine—coming home from work, lying in your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The curtains sway gently with the breeze, and your apartment is cloaked in an almost unbearable silence. It's been like this for days, broken only by the occasional visits from your friends, who come to check on you. But the rest of the time, you're alone, just lying there, not crying, not even feeling fully present—just... zoning out.

The sounds of the city outside have become a sort of white noise, the hum of distant traffic and muffled voices helping to dull the ache, if only a little. You listen to them, letting them wash over you, trying to find some kind of peace in the monotony of your solitude. You know you'll get better eventually—everyone does after a heartbreak—but you have no idea how long it'll take or what it'll look like when you finally come out on the other side. Mila told you it takes half the time you were with someone to forget about them, so you brace yourself for a longer struggle than you'd care to admit.

The hardest part is not even knowing why you're so broken. You can't blame him for anything. He didn't lie. The only mistake was that you let yourself fall for him. You let your guard down, and you fell, hard. And now, as Lana said, there's nothing you can do but sit with the pieces of your broken heart, all the love you have left for someone who never promised to love you back and try to fix yourself.

You feel stupid. You went so far out on a limb with your feelings, and you didn't even realize you were standing out there alone, vulnerable, waiting for someone who was never going to meet you halfway. The emptiness left in his wake feels deeper each day, and yet, there's no one to blame but yourself. You gave too much of yourself to someone who didn't ask for it, and now you're left to pick up the pieces alone.

Each day bleeds into the next, the routine of your heartbreak becoming almost predictable. You come home, drop your bag by the door, and sink into your bed, feeling the weight of everything press down on you. The emptiness of your apartment seems to expand, swallowing you whole. The sunlight that filters through the curtains feels distant, as if it belongs to another world—one where you hadn't fallen for him.

You think about the last time you saw him. The way he didn't even glance back at you when he put his suitcase into Jimin's car. That final, wordless moment has played on a loop in your mind, a haunting memory you can't seem to escape. You wonder if he even thinks about you at all, if leaving was as easy for him as it seemed. Maybe it was. Maybe you were the only one who ever saw something more in your tangled mess of a relationship.

Mila and Lana try to be there for you. They come over with food, drag you out for walks, and sit with you in silence when words feel too heavy to bear. But no matter how hard they try, they can't take away the gnawing ache that's settled deep in your chest. You miss him, even though you know you shouldn't. You miss the comfort of his presence, the way he'd look at you sometimes like you were the only person in the room. And you hate yourself for it—hate that you let him get so close, only for him to walk away without a second thought.

You've tried to rationalize it, tried to tell yourself that it wasn't real. That whatever you two had was just a temporary arrangement. No labels, no promises. But now, sitting in the aftermath, it feels like more than that. It feels like you gave him a piece of your heart, and he left before you had the chance to ask for it back.

There's a moment each night, just before you drift off to sleep, where you catch yourself wishing things were different. Where you imagine what it would've been like if you'd been braver, if you'd told him how you really felt. But the truth is, it wouldn't have changed anything. He didn't want to stay, and that's what hurts the most. You never got the chance to tell him you loved him, and now, you'll never know if it would have made a difference.