Just - MAP OF THE SOUL 7

Interlude: Shadow

Jungkook pov

I sat there, Tae and Jimin's words still echoing in my mind like a persistent hum I couldn't shake. "Make a move," they'd said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if Jin-hyung wasn't the one person who could unravel me with a single glance, a quiet smile that he probably didn't even know he gave me. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, but instead, I just sat on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing, letting the weight of their plan press down on me. This wasn't just a crush. It hadn't been for a long time.

The sounds of Tae and Jimin laughing floated down the hallway, and I could hear them dragging Jin into Tae's room. "Hyung, just let us help you pick something out!" Jimin's voice was excited, playful, as always.

"I can pick my own clothes, you little brats!" Jin's familiar exasperation echoed back, but I could tell he wasn't really mad. If anything, he sounded amused.

I flopped backward on my bed with a groan, staring at the ceiling as my brain went into overdrive. What am I going to wear? Tae had said I needed to look like a god, but now that the moment had come, I felt like a complete mess. I sat up, grabbing random shirts from my closet and tossing them onto the bed. Too casual. Too try-hard. Too... not enough.

"What do you even wear to impress someone like him?" I muttered under my breath. Jin-hyung didn't need to try. He could show up in sweats and still look like he belonged on a magazine cover. My hands froze over a black button-up shirt, fingers trailing over the fabric. Would this work? I imagined him seeing me in it, his eyes lingering a second too long, maybe smiling in that way he always did—soft, teasing, but unreadable. My heart pounded at the thought.

What if he doesn't even notice? The doubt crept in before I could stop it. What if he just smiles at me the way he smiles at everyone? What if he... what if he doesn't care?

"Oh, come on, Jungkook, pull it together," I groaned, running a hand through my hair. My room felt too small, too quiet, and my chest was starting to tighten again. I grabbed my phone, trying to distract myself, but it just made it worse. No texts. No messages. Not that I was expecting one, but... part of me wished he'd come to me. That he'd need my help with something, just so I'd have an excuse to talk to him.

Then, my phone buzzed.

I flinched, nearly dropping it in my lap before scrambling to check the screen. It was from Tae.

Attachment: 1 image

Tae: You're welcome.

I frowned, clicking on the message to open it —and immediately wished I hadn't. My brain short-circuited as I stared at the photo. It was Jin. Jin without his shirt.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I whispered, my voice strangled as I nearly threw my phone across the bed. My face felt like it was on fire, and my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. I've seen him countless times without a shirt, but now he looks so different, so damn hot.

"Oh my god," I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes as if I could unsee what I just saw. But it was too late. The image was seared into my mind—the way his skin looked under the light, his shoulders broad, the soft lines of his collarbones, the faint hint of his smile as if he didn't even know the chaos he was causing.

I dropped back onto my bed, covering my face with my arms, trying to calm down. You're fine, Jungkook. This is fine. Just... pick your damn clothes already.

But now it didn't matter what I wore. I was doomed.

Minutes passed, maybe hours—I wasn't sure. I groaned again, sitting up just long enough to toss another shirt onto the floor before collapsing back onto my bed, a pile of clothes surrounding me like a fabric graveyard.