Hanahaki || JK FF || By: JKxxfiks

Chapter 1: Silent Tremors🖤

Jungkook is my best friend. We've been intertwined since childhood, like vines growing side by side, always reaching toward the same light. We know each other in ways that words could never capture. Every tear he shed, I caught, and every laugh I lost, he found. We've held each other up through storms, through the darkest nights. People often mistake us for lovers, but we laugh it off—vehemently deny it.

Because that's all we've ever been, right? Friends. Just friends.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself, a mantra I cling to as if it's the last thing tethering me to reality. No matter how extraordinary Jungkook is, he's my friend and nothing more.

But lately, I've felt something shift. No, not in him—he's the same, his smile as bright as ever, his touch as casual, as comforting. It's me. Something inside me is breaking.

Every time his skin brushes against mine, a tremor ripples through me—a silent quake that I bury deep, where even I can't reach. His laughter, once just a melody in the background, now wraps itself around me, soft and suffocating all at once, as if the sound alone can make the world disappear. My lips curve into a smile before I even realize it, and my heart... my heart stutters like a broken clock when he's near.

I find myself watching him, my eyes lingering longer than they should, tracing the lines of his face like it's the first time I've seen him. Why does it feel so different now?

What's happening to me? Have I truly fallen? Fallen into this dark, unforgiving pit of love that I can't escape?

No. No, I can't. I can't love him.

He's my friend. Just my friend. But no matter how hard I try to repeat the lie, it unravels faster than I can stitch it back together. I can't stop it—this quiet, agonizing love that blooms inside me, unwanted. It claws at my chest, growing with every glance, every laugh, every gentle touch of his hand.

I tell myself it's nothing. Maybe I'm just lonely, maybe I'm just reaching for something familiar because my heart is desperate for any kind of connection. But deep down, I know the truth. I've forbidden myself from loving him because I know it's a love that can never be returned. He doesn't see me that way. To him, I'm just Y/N, his best friend.

And that's the tragedy, isn't it? To love someone who only ever sees you in the periphery, a shadow in the corner of their heart. No matter how many moments we share—no matter how my heart races when he's near, or how every part of me aches when he smiles—I know that to him, I'm nothing more than a comforting constant in his world.

The truth is a quiet kind of pain. It suffocates, but it doesn't scream.

And I wonder how long I can keep this secret, this love that blooms inside me like a garden of thorns, before it chokes me whole.

Sometimes I tell myself... I should just tell him. Tell him everything that's been growing inside me, blooming like a secret garden of thorns. We promised each other a long time ago that we'd share everything, no matter how big or small. But the thought of saying it aloud—of ruining what we have—makes my heart twist in fear. What if it changes everything? What if I lose him?

So, I push aside these feelings, burying them like I always do. Not tonight. Tonight, I'm just his best friend, and that's all I need to be.

I pack my bag with an extra pair of clothes, my charger, my hairbrush, and some basic makeup—because let's be honest, it's not like I'm trying to impress him, right? Wrong. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and laugh. I look so broke and disheveled. I quickly wash my face, freshening up as best as I can, and change into something that looks a little more put together—just in case.