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Jungkook feels like shit for multiple reasons:
1) Physically, he feels like the human equivalent of roadkill. His body aches, and he has chills constantly. (Though, ache in his head aside, he feels a sense of clarity he hasn't in months.)
2) Memories of last night haunt him in the early hours of morning. He remembers doing what he did: refusing to give up the coke, pressing Iris up against him intimately, whispering manipulative words to her before having a meltdown in the bathroom over his lost coke. He remembers it all too well. But what he can't recall for the life of him is making those decisions. That's the scary thing about addiction—choices that he would need to make consciously are out of his rational control. They're made solely by the visceral need he feels for the drug. The thought makes Jungkook sick to his stomach.
3) According to Google, a random cocaine withdrawal symptom is an increased appetite. To say his appetite just increased would be an understatement. Jungkook is starving. He wishes he actually had food in his fridge, because if he did, he would probably inhale it all in one go and still feel hungry. His personal trainer is gonna kick his ass when he puts on a little weight and softens his hard-earned washboard abs he's so proud of.
On that note, Jungkook rolls out of bed with a groan. He drags his feet as he groggily makes his way down the hall, but slows a bit once he sees the door to the guest room is slightly open. Right. Iris stayed over last night. Jungkook's first instinct is to peek his head in. He never really lets himself look at her for as long as he wants to in her waking hours, but, if she's asleep...she'll never know, right?
So, he cautiously pokes his head around the doorframe, but lets out a heavy breath. He feels like the air has been knocked out of him, thanks to the sucker punch of disappointment and realization delivered to his stomach. The bed is empty. Jungkook knows it has been slept in, due to how crisply and cleanly the bed is made. He himself is not exactly as precise when making a bed—what's the point of making it when you're just gonna sleep in it and mess it all up?—so he knows this is Iris's doing.
Still, she may have been here, but now, she's not. She left. Jungkook doesn't know why he feels disappointed. Well—he does. But he's refusing to admit it at this point. The more accurate statement would be that he doesn't know why he thought she would stay at all. After how shitty and out of line he was last night, he wouldn't be surprised if she up and quit. Sighing, Jungkook slaps the wall gently in defeat and continues his trudge to the kitchen.
"God, I'm such a creep." Jungkook mumbles to himself as he throws open the fridge. In hindsight, hoping to see someone sleeping for the sake of staring at them is mildly disturbing, so he's glad Iris wasn't actually there. If he were smarter, he wouldn't have done it at all, but when it comes to Iris, Jungkook tends to act incredibly stupid, so he supposes that doesn't matter. He diverts his attention to surveying the mostly emptiness of his unfortunate refrigerator. A couple cans of beer, a half-full bottle of soju, a jar of pickles from when Namjoon insisted on making him drink pickle juice in some home remedy for a sore throat when he felt under the weather before a performance, and a bottle of Sriracha.
