Seven Shots: BTS Oneshots

#4 | JJK

Her hand grips his in a loving grasp, always pulling him into her scent of fresh oranges. The other hand traces letters on his clothed chest, sending gentle oscillations through his skin. Her head rests on his stretched arm, giving him a perfect view of her melanin-skinned face, shining in the dim light of the lampshade. Her pink, chapped lips are always adorned with a smile, and her eyes hold the sun and moon that Jeongguk's world revolves around.

She is his world, and she makes him feel whole.

He closes his eyes, pushing away the urge to sigh at the warmth she radiates. It works wonders on days like this—days when he feels like giving up and collapsing to his knees.

On days like this, she becomes his spine, making him stand tall on his own two feet. She never lets him forget all the hardships he has faced to get where he is now, whispering encouraging words, reminding him of the sacrifices he’s made. She brings to light the countless hours he spent in a dance studio while others his age enjoyed their youth. She helps him realize he has fought far harder than this in the past. She makes him shine, even when the stars vanish from the night sky and the world feels dark.

If he’s being honest, Byeol is his star—the brightest in his galaxy, the only source of light that keeps his world aglow. After short calls with her following tiring concerts, he wonders: would he be here if it weren’t for her words that saved him from taking his own life?

What would have happened if she hadn’t been present on that fateful day, at that exact place and moment, just when he stood ready to leap off that life-taking cliff? Jeongguk believes it was a pure game of fate, that it was meant to happen. He was meant to shine, and fate gifted him his source of light—Byeol.

Jeongguk never believed in fate until he met her. Until he understood the play of fate and destiny that brought them together. After that one night he confessed his feelings, he became not just her boyfriend, but a firm believer in destiny.

Before he met Byeol, he was just a boy who thought he needed nothing more than passion. In a sense, it had become his religion. He worked tirelessly, not for himself or his dreams, but for his passion. He sacrificed much of his fun, and when he finally met Byeol, she transformed his view of everything he did and everything he ever believed.

In the process, Jeongguk had forgotten how to be whole again. He had lost many parts of himself—his youth, his dreams, his wishes. Just as he was about to lose himself entirely, Byeol entered his life.

He closes his eyes and smiles at the early memories of Byeol, who gave him strength with every step he took forward.

Then he hears a sob—a heart-wrenching sound, echoing loneliness yet resonating throughout the room. He opens his eyes to the darkness surrounding him. Byeol must have switched off the lamp while he was lost in memories, like pulling down the curtains on the movie of their lives.

Byeol isn’t beside him, and he realizes it when he feels the cold. She isn’t curled against his chest. He quietly sits upright, turning to find her perched on his study table, surrounded by a mess of books.

God, how long has he been out of it to not notice her absence?

He immediately sets his feet on the cold floor, a chill shooting up his spine as he steps onto the marble. He can never get used to the cold—at least not until Byeol is present in his life as his main source of warmth. His hitch must have alerted her; he notices her shoulders tense beneath the dull light of the study lamp.

She wipes her cheeks in a hurry. Alarmed, he walks over to the table and stands beside the chair she occupies, bending slightly to face her.

“Byeol? Were you crying?” He curses himself for his awkwardness. He’s always the one being comforted, never on the giving side.

Her eyes are blotched with tears, but she shakes her head, pulling on a fake smile. “I-I’m good—”

“No, you’re not.” He slips his hand into hers, which rests on the table, and pulls her to her feet, close to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” His voice drops to a whisper as he gently lifts her chin with his fingers, allowing his eyes to meet hers, which glisten with unshed tears. She shakes her head again. “Nothing.”

“Are you hiding things, Byeol?” Jeongguk scowls, the authority in his voice surprising him. It comes out a little stiffer than he intended.

Byeol panics, placing her hands on either side of his face, locking her gaze with him. She shakes her head vigorously. “No, Guk. It’s nothing. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Then tell me. Tell me why you were hiding from me and crying. What does that mean?”

Byeol leans forward, brushing her lips against his tenderly, cutting him off. She pulls back just enough to let their noses touch, murmuring softly, “I was upset because I hated seeing you cry.” Jeongguk’s eyes widen at her confession, words ready to spill from his lips, but she beats him to it.

“I felt helpless. I can’t offer you anything but my words, and I feel like they aren’t enough. I really want to make you happy, but I always—”

Jeongguk pulls her into his chest, resting his chin atop her head. Tears that brimmed in his eyes at Byeol’s words now roll down his cheeks carefree.

“W-Why would you think that, Byeol?” His voice falters, but he presses on. “You know? You don’t even need to talk me out of it. Just your presence beside me is enough. I don’t need anything else—just you. Please, don’t ever think that way.”

He buries his head in her neck, releasing a long, contented sigh as his heart yearns for Byeol’s warmth.

“You’re my heartbeat.”