stomach butterflies

02.

This happened on the spur of moment. I couldn't think. I had thrown a tantrum to the innocent-looking boy.  They were full force from the very start like a bomb with no fuse, just an immediate explosion.

The stars in the sky started to fade away, depleting its shine second by second, as the ginormous ball of sun slowly making its way to up to the sky, Tuscan yellow and rose red colors stretching far to the horizon and incorporated with an ample of clouds. I stared from the window of the process of this. Not longer after that, I regained consciousness, and there it started.

"Gracie, I truly love you so much."

Behind those words you have said to me, lay words that should've been melted in front of me. I swore, no matter what you did to me, I'd still love you no matter what. I seriously do, Jeon Jungkook. But I think since all of this happened instantaneously, I want you to know that we can't forever be like this. I don't deserve you, I surely don't. I'm sorry.

Was Yours,

Gracie.

My hands were trembling writing all of that. It all seemed inconsequential, and familiar. But I knew that was the right thing to do. I have no choice left.

I slipped the folded paper into a crude envelope with such painstaking emotion. This was how I communicate, especially whenever I had no valor to talk in person, but through words. Jungkook taught me so many things. So many things that it would difficult for me to count them with my fingers.

There was a knock on my door. My eyes were droopy like a dog's slobbering mouth. I'd been dawdling for the past few days, surrounding myself, letting myself getting sucked into some kind of a black hole. As I put a tight grip on the door handle, I opened the main door as slow as possible. Oh shit.

It was the mailman that I caned, hypothetically speaking, of course. With my emotions. I looked at him. He looked at me. Neither of us speak at first glance, but I wanted to start the conversation.

"Hello, I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you yesterday," I admitted, "I was having a really bad day so can you please understand-"

"It's okay. I understand your situation," he interjected. I arched my brow, not understanding a single thing about what he had said.

The mailman looked completely different look compared to his yesterday's look. He was dressed in motley clothes, in dun and gray. This boy had elongated eyes that almost looked like it made from fresh bog reeds; the complexion of his face was smooth as a baby's duff. I could see the tousled black hair he had. He also had a chopped fringe that perfectly matches his round face. Prior to asking him what he meant, he lowered his voice and bend his knees slightly.

"You're probably wondering why I came here, but the thing is I wanted you to know that Jungkook is my best friend. He vented to me about you, and he didn't really want to hurt you," he said to me with facile, "but I doubt that."

Huh. I wasn't surprised on how a big imbecile Jungkook was. I bit my lips, not knowing how to reply to the big guy's best friend.

"Oh. Cool. Okay. So you got any thing for me?" I asked.

"No, actually. I just wanted to tell you this. Sorry for interrupting," he said expressionless.

I look at the tag on his shirt. Min Yoongi. His name is Min Yoongi. That sounds familiar to me.

"Well then, nice to meet you. Min Yoongi."