Collection of GOT7 One-Shots (xReader)

Flames to Embers (Jaebeom)

There are two ways to deal with this, both requiring you to get hurt more than how you're feeling right now. You can't afford to have your eyes red and puffy tomorrow morning, so you settle to the less obvious remedy. Though the alcohol burns your throat, it also numbs your aching heart. Though you know you'll have a huge headache tomorrow, you need the strength right now. So yeah, it's better for him to find you sitting alone on the balcony, downing a now only half-full bottle of alcohol, instead of you bawling your eyes out.

You hear the beeping from the electronic lock and figure that he's arrived. Soon, approaching footsteps echo throughout your dark house, followed by some shuffling as he probably puts his things down. You don't look back to know if he's found you, because you know you're visible enough because of the bright moon shining down on your face. But you also won't be surprised if he doesn't come up to ask what you're doing, feet dangling forty storeys from the ground. You've never had a small talk with him for months now.

You take another big gulp. The bitterness makes you cringe.

"I never knew you drink," you hear his voice close to you, so you look up to find him just by the curtains.

Somehow, you manage to smile and hold out the bottle to him. "Would you like some?"

You see the hesitation in his eyes but he might be curious of what's up so he decides to join. You watch as he takes a seat beside you, his feet now also hanging through the railings. You laugh when he grimaces after taking a swig of your drink.

"This is too strong," he says before handing you back the bottle. "Why are you drinking so late at night?"

"I think I need it," you simply reason, taking the bottle and swallowing yet another bitterness.

You embrace the silence as he just watches you empty the contents. You figure he must have noticed that something is wrong, and is waiting for you tell him. He doesn't usually care but maybe this time, something's pushing him to at least pretend. You smile while shaking your head slightly. That has to be it.

"Will you stay up long? I'm exhausted from the trip so I might hit the sack now," he says, though made no movement to get up and away from you.

"Yeah. I'll still be here in an hour or so. Did you have fun on the trip?"

You see him dart his eyes away from your wondering ones, most likely to imagine all the thrills he felt during the weekend without you. He seems to have enjoyed it, but is holding back to tell you, because you wouldn't like knowing that he's happier with other people's company.

"It was fine. The conference was a bore," he decides to say.

You nod mutely. That can be true. You take the empty bottle in between you and place it with the other three you've finished before he came. There's only one remaining; you didn't know you'll get to it. But the situation needs a few more spirit, so you open the last one and offer it to him again. "Why don't you drink this last one? Just to celebrate the end of it or to get rid of the stress."

Again, there's hesitation in his eyes, opposite to your determined ones. "Are we really going to stay up all night drinking? Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"I took a day off. And you'll be on leave too, right? Since you've just attended a conference that far?"

He doesn't answer, instead guzzled twice. He doesn't frown this time, finding the strength of the alcohol to be the most important part of it all. You're on the same page now, desperate to bury the nagging thoughts and aching feelings. But you don't think he knows that your reason is the same to his.

"Do you remember our honeymoon?" you start to reminisce. "That was the first and last time we went on a trip. Too bad we weren't able to enjoy it because you have to rush back to work."

"You also got sick from staying too long in the water so we really had to rush."

"Well, you're the reason I was in the water the first place."

The side of his mouth turns up. The memory is still something unforgettable for the two of you. The thrill of being caught in the middle of the dark sea doing something that should be in private-you'll never feel it anywhere else. Your love was a raging fire.

"Where had our passion go, Jaebeom?" you ask, but instead of meeting his worried gaze, you look at the moon above. It's alone in the dark, the stars barely keeping it company as the clouds are covering them. "When did the fire burn out?"

"It hasn't yet," he insists.

"But the ember is too weak now. It'll take a lot of effort to bring it back to flames. It's better to just step on it and let it rest."

"What do you mean?"

While you think speaking in metaphors can be confusing for him, you believe that he'll get it if he processes it enough. "Maybe I'm just drunk."

"Yeah, I think you are."

You take a deep breath and try to give him a smile. "Can you finish that bottle? Or do you want me to help you with it?"

"I thought you admit that you're already drunk?"

You shake your head. If you can still have some faith in him, it means your stupidity is still lingering. "Not enough."

"No. Stop drinking now. I'll finish this then we'll go to bed."

You stare as he glugs down the contents in an expert manner. You realise that he must have done a lot of this before, and somehow that lessens the pain. It means that he didn't just decide to hurt you in an instant. He tried other distractions first before choosing to break your heart. At least you mean a little.

You see him empty the bottle up to the last drop, and put it down with a sigh. His eyes are foggy as they look at you to see what if you're getting up. You offer a hand to help him stand, and he takes it like the first time you've offered. The memories just keep on coming back to your head, torturing you. You're glad it's almost the end.

"Jinyoung called earlier," you say after closing the curtains, the living room now pitch black. You're still holding his hand, because he might not remember the way to your room, not with him spending the past month sleeping somewhere else.

You feel his grip stiffen, and though it's dark, you know his eyes are on your face. "What did he say?"

"He was asking me if we're having fun at Bali now. If I think a weekend away from our works would be perfect to finally create his future godchild."

You feel his hold falter, before he gathers his senses and grip both of your hands.

"It's not what it seems-"

"I already know," you say, voice breaking. "You don't have to say anything."

Again, there's silence, but unlike earlier, it's cold and dark. Not only because the moon isn't shining on you anymore, but also because you've finally stepped on the ember.

"I'm sorry," he breathes out, his voice hoarse and pleading. "I didn't mean it. I... I don't know how it started but-"

"I'm sorry too," you say and reach out to touch his face. Yes, there's no light, but some things are just too precious to be forgotten. Too bad he didn't remember your love, like how you still have his face memorised. "I'll leave when you're asleep. We can blame the alcohol on this one."