Work Of Art

17. Cypresses

1 7

I'm watching Jungkook watching me.

He isn't smiling. He's not sad. And he's not angry either. He only sits there with his hands calmly placed on the thighs and waits for me to say something, anything that would even slightly explain the reason I called him, crying for help.

And for a moment, I see his pupils go wide, his thin lips part as if he's going to tell me something, but each and every time he shakes his head beforehand, thinking that maybe whatever it is he wants to tell, might not be good enough. Might not be the perfect apology, one that'd be enough to erase the trace his fist left on the wall.

Maybe nothing will be enough to make me forgive him, except for time, that now passed by so slowly, the whole world around me going in slow motion.

After his fingers intertwine the small glass and tilt the sake down his throat, Jungkook coughs, soothing down the cruel sting that ropes his esophagus.

With a second flying by, he opens another bottle, one standing between dozens of others and I'm unsure of whether they're full or empty, whether they're mine or his.

But I don't say anything, just do the same thing he did, pour a glass to myself and drink it quickly, hoping that maybe for a moment, it'll make my thoughts disappear. And it does, but the moment is so small, like one squeezed between the tips of your fingers when you're close to losing your patience.

Another glass is emptied down his throat, Jungkook coughs again and squeezes his eyes shut.

''I'm done for the day'', says a male voice and I look over to my side, locking eyes with a young man with hair as bright as the daylight. Then I realize it's not daylight at all but the lights above making it hard to recognize who's exactly standing next to us. ''Everything's cleaned and ready for tomorrow, just remember to lock up.''

It takes me a few moments to see the face hidden under a black cap.

Have I drunk that much?

''Thanks, Jimin.'' Jungkook gives a small bow.

But Jimin doesn't leave just yet. He takes in the sight, mentally counting up the bottles set on the table before he says, ''Don't let her drink too much. Take care.''

''Will do.''

Then he leaves.

The doors shut behind him and we're all alone, sitting in the same sushi bar they both work at. Its brown walls look even darker, but the smell of fish wasn't there anymore. Maybe Jimin did a good job cleaning this whole place or I'm just way too drunk to notice it.

When the golden dragon painted on the walls starts to dance, Jungkook opens his mouth and says, ''Erika, I'm so s-''

''Save it.'' Biting back harshly, I regret the tone immediately after I see his features soften. ''I don't want to hear it. Not now.''

This time, he is actually hearing my words when he nods. What takes is another glass of sake down his throat to make my effort of shutting him up go in vain, because seconds later, a long-suffering sigh vibrates in the air and he asks, ''What happened?''

Tell him the truth.

''Nothing happened.'' Now it's my turn to drown the remaining sanity in sake, my whole body shivers once I've done so. And I don't even like sake.

Gosh. I'm such an idiot.

''You've always been a terrible liar, baby girl,'' says Jungkook.