Intertwined: Two fates | Book:-1 | Jikook | ✔

81 - A Promise

[Jingnan Harbor, South Entrance. 8 pm. See you the day after tomorrow! 😉]

It was the message Jungkook saw once he was awakened from his shallow sleep.

Outside, the birds were chirping lightly, and bright sunshine spilled in through the window, causing Jungkook to squint his eyes. With a groan, he rolled over and sat up on the bed, one of his hands clutching his head.

The medicine he consumed last night was not working— or perhaps it was because he was staying up until dawn to skim over the articles on the internet.

In the end, his efforts turned out to be futile. What the public knew about 'Phantom' was really lacking and the articles mostly talked about rumors, assumptions and hypotheses which were proven useless for Jungkook.

He spent a few minutes doing his breathing exercises, and only when the pounding on his head subsided that he opened his eyes to gaze at the message again.

The day after tomorrow, 8 pm. It meant that he had less than sixty hours to prepare himself.

He stumbled into the bathroom.

Somehow, Jungkook did not need to look at the mirror to know how terrible his complexion was right now. And sure enough, his face was bloodless, his eyes rimmed red and bloodshot, and his lips were so dry that he could see a bead of blood oozing out from the crack.

Oh God, he looked so horrible... he was actually a little glad that Jimin was not here to see him right now. Otherwise he had no idea whether the omega would be blindsided by his Alpha's ugliness.

Jungkook turned the faucet, bent down and splashed his face with cold water, barely sobering his mind up a bit.

Get yourself together Jungkook, he told himself. Now was not the time to get sick. You have a big battle to fight soon.

After giving himself a little prep talk, Jungkook opened the bottom cabinet to grab his pills. Alas, before he could even twist the bottle open, a droplet of crimson liquid dripped onto his hand, then another.

"Ugh...!" He tilted his head up and covered his nose, then fumbled around to find tissue papers.

Not now, he pleaded, please not now...

As Jungkook was stuffing his nose with tissues, he suddenly recalled something that had happened years ago, a few months after he woke up from the coma.

At that time, his episode of headache was frequent in numbers and sometimes, they would be so severe that he would be knocked out cold. He spent days in a daze, drifting in between chaotic dreams and reality. And when he finally recovered, Jackson took one look at his wan complexion and asked the hospital's kitchen staff to cook millet porridge with yam for him. It was the first meal he'd had in ages.

Alas, because he had not fully regained his mobility yet, Jackson had to sit by the bed and spoon-feed him.

But how could Jungkook let someone do that for him?

Face heating up, he stammered out in shame, "Y-You don't need to do this-mmh!" A spoonful of warm porridge was stuffed into his mouth, blocking whatever protest that was hanging on the tip of his tongue.

The mild flavor was akin to spring breeze to the dreary bitterness of his tongue. His eyes widened, pleasantly surprised, yet before he could even savor the taste, he felt something dripping out of his nose.

Jungkook almost cried out in surprise before he recalled that he still had porridge in his mouth. As a result, it was too late by the time Jackson raised his head and realized what was happening. He almost stood up in shock when he saw half of Jungkook's face that was smeared with blood.