BTS Imagines/One-Shots [requests; open!]

Jungkook: Fools

Jungkook: Fools
Genre: Angst
(Since JK & RM  just uploaded an amazingly beautiful cover of  Troye Sivan's 'Fools', why not? Enjoy!)

"I am tired of this place, I hope people change
I need time to replace what I gave away
And my hopes, they are high, I must keep them small
Though I try to resist I still want it all"

Jungkook was tired. Exhausted. Drained of every last drop of energy left in his body which was toned and muscled, but felt coldly empty inside. It wasn't the strenuous practices that had made him this tired, no, it was - her.

Why, why did I ever give her away? Why did I let her slip through my fingers? I should have known.

She was an angel. Her sunny smile, her sparkling eyes, her contagious laugh. Her wavy, long hair. Her cute sneeze when they walked through aisles in the malls selling stuffed toys because she was insanely allergic to dust mites. Her kindness and care she showed to everyone and everything, even to animals; the day she brought home a litter of abandoned kittens, her eyes almost tearing when she related her story about finding them. Her voice - oh, her voice. Her voice that rang out with a singing lilt, a sound that he looked forward to every day when he came home from a hard day's work; "Kookie-ah! I've been waiting for you!" "Jeon Jungkook, you get back here!" "Jungkook-ah... Saranghae."

The same voice that had echoed those piercing words, void of emotion; "It's over, Jungkook."

An angel that could speak such words, such words that clawed, ripped and tore at his heart.

"I see swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes
I see a little house on the hill and children's names
I see quiet nights poured over ice and Tanqueray
But everything is shattering and it's my mistake"

Where was the future that they had dreamed of together? A happy family, with her - that had been his only dream. A tiny him and her running around the house, calling out for eomma and appa. They would have had one boy, and one girl. But now everything was gone.

It's my fault, isn't it?

If only he hadn't been so possessive. If only he hadn't thought that he was always in the right, and she was in the wrong. If only he had learned to trust. She had said it before, "The more you restrict me, the more I'll run, and the further the distance. Don't test your boundaries."

But he couldn't help it. She was so perfect, so beautiful, so surreal. The years he spent in high school, silently watching her from afar. She was the school's beauty, the Prom Queen. She was kind-hearted, she was caring, loving, spontaneous, yet innocent at the same time. No wonder she never noticed the dozens and dozens of admirers that flocked to her, the bouquets of roses on her table on Valentine's Day, and flowery-scented love letters jamming her locker. She didn't realize the number of hearts she broke whenever she showed an interest in a certain guy. She didn't realize how hard it was to be her boyfriend, when she always had queues of other guys talking to her.

On the last day of school, graduation day, when he finally mustered up all the courage he had and confessed to her, he felt like the world was coming to an end, for he was expecting the worst. Instead, his eyes which had been fixated on the ground, too shy to look up at first, flew up in shock when she reached out with her fair, smooth hands and pinched his cheek. Her touch. He still felt it on him. It was like his cheek was burning with a fiery sensation.