Jungkook Oneshots

I Like You The Most

 "𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴...
                     𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶." 

Jungkook sighed as he read the letter. Again.

He didn't even need to check the handwriting anymore — the words always gave it away. Playful. Warm. And that familiar little tilt in the "your fav" at the end.

Of course it was from you.

Your morning eyes, I could stare like watching stars
I could walk you by, and I'll tell without a thought
You'd be mine, would you mind if I took your hand tonight?
Know you're all that I want this life

He hated how his chest tightened at that.

Without a word, he folded the letter carefully — like all the others — and slipped it into the side pocket of his bag. The same one already stuffed full of your notes. Full of you.

Just as he shut his locker, a loud thud made him flinch.

"Got another letter from her, didn't you?" Taehyung grinned, bumping his shoulder hard enough to rattle the locker.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "No."

"Liar," Taehyung scoffed, stepping in front of him. "Your face says it all. You look like someone just got handed a handwritten love song and a free cup of coffee."

Jungkook adjusted the strap of his bag and turned away, hoping his cheeks weren't giving him away. "She sends letters to everyone."

"Bro," Taehyung leaned in like he was revealing national secrets, "she doesn't send letters to everyone. She barely talks to half the people in our year."

"She talks to everyone—"

"She smiles at everyone," Taehyung corrected. "Big difference. But she writes to you. Quotes songs. Waits for you after class. Sends you memes at night. Everyone wants her, Jungkook. Guys from other departments have tried asking her out. You know what she told Hwan from business?"

Jungkook didn't reply, but something tightened in his jaw.

"She said — and I quote — 'I'm already annoyingly into someone else.'"

He blinked.

Taehyung nodded like he just dropped the punchline of the year. "And we both know who that is."

The library was Jungkook's sanctuary. 
Quiet, orderly, predictable.
No one really bothered him there — and he liked it that way.

And that was also where he met you for the first time.

He was halfway through highlighting a dense paragraph on neuromuscular coordination when he heard it.

A voice.

Soft. Barely above a whisper. Singing.

At first, he tried to ignore it. He assumed whoever it was would shut up in a minute.