"No, Jimin, life was never fair," she whispered with love, before taking her last breath.
_____
The past. It always has been the past.
When Park Jimin and Song Jinhee got together, it was because they needed each other to carry on with their new li...
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Jeon Jungkook, 23, Present day
Two forty eight.
Two fucking forty eight.
It was two forty eight midnight and yet Jungkook was still waiting.
Where in the world was Chin?
He had tried calling her, but it seemed her phone was turned off. He even ringed Jinhee, but the only response he got was a bloody "I don't know, Kook. Sorry." He was getting more frustrated by minutes-hell, he would have already flung his phone out the open window if it weren't the only way to contact his missing girlfriend.
Jungkook paced around the apartment, occasionally plopping down the bed or the sofa in despair, flipping the gadget around his fingers in hopes it would ring and showcase Chin's silly face in an incoming call.
His last talk with her had been yesterday when he said he'd stay at Jimin's. She had been staying at Jinhee's by that time. After that call, Chin never bothered to check on him. It has been roughly 29 hours, at least. Jungkook thought they went on a shopping spree of some sort, since that was what they usually do whenever Chin disappeared without any say.
Stupid, he threw down his phone on the couch, sitting down beside it, then took his face in his hands. So bloody stupid.
Two fifty three.
Chin. He could not think of anything else. Chin, Chin, Chin.
Where the hell are you?
He was so fucking careless. He should have checked on her at least twice the whole day. If he did just that, he wouldn't be worrying like this at all. So fucking careless. Now he worried. Now he pondered. It was like that saying: 'Regret always come at the end.'
"Please, please, please," he chanted in his hands, pleading for someone, for anyone, to hear his prayers. "Please come home. I'm begging you. Please."
Two fifty seven.
And Chin was not yet home.
He sobbed, hands trembling as his fingers pried the phone out from the corner it had hid on. One more try. Just one more chance.
One more call.
Jungkook's fingers gripped his raven hair in desperation, watching his phone ring. One last call. He just needed her to answer it.
Then as an act of God, he heard it. Not the phone, but the sound of murmurs outside his door.
Chin.
Three o'clock, and she was home.
Phone forgotten, he jumped off the couch to open the door for her. He longed to see her, to touch her, to kiss her. He had waited for too long; all he needed was one touch.
