❝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 16 ✶————✶————✶
As Jimin finally stood before Jungkook’s front door, the air thick with tension, he hesitated.
His hand lingered on the doorknob, every muscle in his body screaming to turn around, to run the hell away from this situation.
But he couldn’t. Not now. Not when he’d come this far.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he knocked firmly on the door.
Moments later, the door swung open.
Jungkook stood there, eyes bloodshot, his face haggard, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was wild, like he hadn't bothered to comb it in days.
The sight of him made Jimin’s chest ache, a strange mixture of anger and pity swirling within him.
Jungkook didn’t look like the person Jimin had once known. He looked… broken.
Jungkook didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at Jimin, as if weighing the decision of whether or not to let him in.
After a long, silent pause, he stepped aside, motioning for Jimin to enter.
The house was a disaster. Empty champagne bottles were scattered across the floor, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts, and a heavy, stale smell of alcohol hung in the air like a cloud.
It felt like a war zone, a chaotic reflection of the state Jungkook was in. There was a cracked photo frame on the floor, and several sheets of paper scattered across the coffee table.
It was clear that Jungkook had been living in his own personal hell, unable to hold himself together.
Jimin stepped inside, the weight of the silence pressing down on him.
He felt like he was walking through a graveyard, each empty bottle and discarded cigarette a symbol of something lost—something he wasn’t sure they could ever fix.
“Jungkook,” Jimin finally spoke, his voice tight with emotion. “What the hell happened to you?”
Jungkook didn’t respond at first. He just ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure where to start.
Finally, he let out a deep sigh, slumping into a chair and staring at the floor.
“I’m not proud of who I became,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice rough.
“I lost myself, Jimin. And I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I... I need you to understand something.”
Jimin stood there, arms crossed, watching him carefully. Jungkook looked so small, so vulnerable in that moment.
It made the anger inside Jimin flicker, though it was far from being extinguished.
Jungkook looked up at Jimin, his eyes pleading. “I never meant to hurt you. I was so... obsessed. I didn’t know how to let go. And every time I tried, I felt like I was losing everything. But the truth is, Jimin, I was terrified. Terrified of losing control, terrified of being alone. I thought... I thought that if I kept you close, if I kept you under my control, you’d never leave me. I know how fucked up that sounds, but I didn’t know how else to deal with it. And now look at me. Look at this mess.”
