❝I ought to fuck the brat out of you until you can't talk back."❞
.
.
.
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❝But you won't❞
Jimin, the privileged class president, hides his relationship with Kai from everyone until Jungkook threatens to blow their secret wide open. With a career...
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Chapter 12 ✶————✶————✶
Jungkook had never felt failure—not in the way he felt it now. Failure was foreign to him, a stranger he never thought he’d meet.
But here it was, settling in his chest like a lead weight, suffocating him with its unrelenting grip.
Devastation. Not the kind that broke you in a single blow, but the kind that ate at you slowly, eroding your sense of self piece by piece.
Solitude. The kind that wasn’t chosen but imposed, isolating him in a world where even the echoes of his own thoughts were too loud.
Failure.
Even after he finally had Jimin beneath him, trembling, vulnerable, and his for those fleeting moments, it wasn’t victory. Not even close. The pleasure of it was hollow, a bitter reminder that Jimin’s heart wasn’t with him—it was still wrapped around Kai. The way Jimin’s eyes had burned with something other than passion, something closer to regret, had left Jungkook with nothing but ashes in his chest.
Weeks had passed since that night, and the memory clung to him like the scent of smoke on his clothes. He’d spent every one of those nights drowning in beer bottles and cigarette packs, letting the burn of alcohol and nicotine try to numb what couldn’t be erased.
Each drag of his cigarette felt like a lifeline, even as it killed him a little more. Each sip of beer was like a bandage on a wound that refused to close.
And if anyone dared to look his way when he was stumbling out to buy another pack or dared to call him, their concern disguised as meddling, he’d snap. His words were sharp, his temper shorter than ever, and his patience nonexistent.
He couldn’t stand the way people stared at him, as if they could see through the cracks he worked so hard to patch up. As if they knew how deeply he’d failed.
Failed to win Jimin. Failed to keep himself together. Failed to be anything other than a mess of anger, regret, and bitterness.
Jungkook leaned against the grimy wall of his favorite convenience store, a half-empty pack of cigarettes in his hand. He lit another, the flame flickering in the cold wind as he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs and numb the ache in his chest.
But the numbness never lasted.
No matter how many packs he burned through, no matter how many bottles he emptied, the image of Jimin—eyes wide, lips trembling, whispering Kai’s name—was branded into his mind.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Jimin was supposed to forget Kai. Jimin was supposed to choose him. Jimin was supposed to feel something for him, anything.
Instead, Jungkook was left with the bitter realization that he’d only ever been a distraction, a fleeting escape from the love Jimin couldn’t let go of.
