Dear Best Friend | 김태형

K. || Chapter thirty-three

What're the odds?

Everyday you take off sick always seemed to be a snow day. You didn't know wether it was good or bad fortune, but it was something. A day without guilt was something hard to come by, and if being willed away from school for even a day was that, then it'd definitely be considered a positive.

Until you entertained the idea that today would be boring.

Dads at work, Moms at work, and apparently, Taehyung is optimising his day off by spending some time with his own parents, which is a rarity. Despite being a little disappointed, it was good for him and yourself. You both needed time to think, especially yourself. Guilt shouldn't consume you forever, but it was approaching a time of reckoning and you needed to prepare yourself.

No more kissing, or hugging, or cuddling - it was time to own your truth; you had to reject someone, or even both.

But that fear kept creeping up everytime their name popped up, or you came close to picking up your phone and confessing your sin. Their reaction would probably be the best way to decide.

If Jungkook freaks out about you kissing Taehyung before him, how you essentially used him for your heat of the moment turn-on and regrets everything you did together then that's fine. It's totally okay.
If Taehyung never talks to you again over what you did to him, how you broke his heart, then good.

Or maybe not so good.

The idea of losing a once-in-a-lifetime friendship over something so stupid, so pathetic on your part was the thing causing you to throw your phone away everytime you considered breaking the news to either one of them.

But they deserved to know what they'd be getting into, to know that the girl they fell in love with, their best friend is the same girl that they met at the party, that manipulated them both.

So it was gonna happen.

If not now, then never. Do it.

"Hello?"

His voice was always so careful over the phone, until he heard your voice directly.

"Hey, Jungkook," you said, biting your lip as you closed your eyes tightly. You imagined him sitting on his bed, crossed-legged with a laptop infront of him, maybe a pair of those dorky Ironman socks on that he wore and one of his immensely soft white t-shirts on.

"Y/N! I didn't see you yesterday, you disappeared. Is everything alright?"

"No, Kook, it's not..." you confessed, deciding not to beat around the bush.
But his voice made it hard, how much that boy cared for you was unsettling, and it was that tone that caused your own mentality to break.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" He was careful now. His voice reflected what his posture would be like just now; a straight back, eyebrows drawn together and teeth clenched together. You hated how you worried him. You hated how you'd break him.

"I need to- to tell you something." You stuttered, each word catching in your throat. It's too hard. I can't say it.

"Okay," he simply said, "I'm here to listen."

There was a distinct sound of a room door closing on the other end, and you knew he knew this was serious.

"I want- I ne- Jungkook, I-"

And then you cried.

"I'm sorry."

Was all you could spit out.

But he remained silent.

"I fucking- Jungkook I can't do this anymore," you said with tears streaming down your face now, trying to conceal sobs so you didn't sound horrific to him, but it was a failed attempt.