elise | jjk ✓

dix

📼 overnight
maggie rogers
_______

paris was truly a dream.

elise had never thought she'd actually make it. but here she was, at a small café on blanche, the same street that her and jungkook had only dreamed about starting their life on.

the only problem was that she was sitting alone. jeongguk wasn't there, and that was the main flaw.

"elise," a voice called. the young woman set down her coffee and looked behind her to where a man in a dapper black suit stood, mouth agape.

it was him.

"jeongguk," she breathed, a flood of relief washing over her.

"you're here," he said in disbelief, walking closer to her table and sitting down.

elise nodded sheepishly. "yes," she replied. "but i saw you the other night."

jeongguk arched an eyebrow. "you did?" elise nodded. "oh yes," jeongguk agreed as his eyes got a little wider, "when you came to my apartment."

"yes," elise nodded, suddenly very giddy.

"how rude of you," jeongguk said and laughed a little. elise paused. rude?

"i'm sorry, what?" she asked, puzzled.

"you," jeongguk smiled. "it was completely rude of you to show up like that—and expecting... what? me to hug you and welcome you?"

elise furrowed her eyebrows, her smile gone, "no-i-i didn't mean to be rude—"

"well then what, hm?"

elise paused, taking in a deep breath. "i-i came here to e-explain everything—"

"and get the band back together, i'm guessing?"

"no," she shook her head angrily, tears threatening to be released from her eyes. "i don't want that. i want to talk and-and explain myself."

jeongguk stopped interrupting her and smiled. it wasn't a nice, kind smile, it was malicious and vengeful, something she wasn't used to.

"i think it's too late for that, don't you?" he asked, taking a sip from his coffee that had somehow appeared on the table. elise looked around and realized that the street and café had been vacated and it was just the two of them left at the table.

"you hate coffee," she said in a small voice, looking back to him in worry.

"things have changed, my darling. the jeongguk you knew is gone."

long awaited tears fell from elise's eyes and onto her cheeks—some missing and landing on the table. "no," she cried, "i loved him. he's not gone."

"oh," jeongguk simpered, "but he is."

•••

elise woke with a start, springing up in her bed like a jack in the box. her heart was racing like a rabbits. she looked to the clock beside her bed. eight am it read and she ran her hands across her face, rubbing on her temples extra hard.

thank god that had been a dream. for a second, she thought it was real, and she really was stuck in her worst nightmare.

but wasn't this already her worst nightmare?

elise looked around her hotel room. it was what she had always envisioned paris hotel rooms to look like; tall ceilings, gold finishes, mirrors everywhere, doors and windows that opened up to balconies that displayed the beautiful parisian streets. it was beautiful.

but the stinging pain of her dream made it agonizingly hard to think of it in a positive light.

she had to accept the fact; jeongguk hated her and never wanted to see her again.

perhaps her nightmare hadn't been a nightmare, but merely a fabricated vision of the truth.

one that she didn't want to be, but it was.