Annie
Days on trial: 44
Jungkook had been picking at the cone of deep-fried potatoes in his hands for about half an hour now.
Occasionally, he'd chomp down on one, chew for way longer than he needed to, and then throw the remainder of it to the hungry seagull staring us down.
His hood was up, face mirroring the murky skies in front of us.
"Stupid fuckin' drugs," he muttered, pulling his arm back and propelling a chip along the beach. I'd never seen a potato fly so fast, and had it not been for his absolutely sour mood, I would have laughed.
Instead, I sighed. Sat about a metre apart, it felt wrong to encroach on his personal space. Having walked the length of the beach, we were sat in an alcove, nestled between some rocks and an old fishing trawler, that looked as if it hadn't been used for decades.
Waves crashed along the shoreline, but it didn't rage on like I knew it could. Instead, there was an element of tranquillity to the dark water. It was peaceful, almost.
"Kook, we both know it's not the drugs fault," I tried to reason with him, though I half wondered if the Doctor could give me anything to make me Mono again. It was still just mellow blues that intruded on my vision, but purples were starting to make themselves known to me too. I wasn't ready to see them again. Not yet.
"We're not having a pity party," I commanded, though I think I was talking to myself just as much as I was him.
"I'd quite like to have a pity party, Annie," he retorted a little scathingly, his flair for dramatics not softening in the throngs of heartbreak. His heels dug into the sand, creating deep gorges that swelled with excess sand particles as soon as he moved them slightly. It was a shame he couldn't see that his heart would do the exact same. One day, it too would be full again.
"Nope," I laughed at him tenderly, wondering how Tiff could have done what she did to him. "Not happening."
Not loving him, though it felt impossible to me, was one thing, but to abuse his good nature in such a way? I hoped no one would ever feel colours for her again.
"My girlfriend cheated on me," he stropped. There was discontent in his tone of voice, but he sounded annoyed more than anything. "And lied about being a Multi. Who the fuck does that?"
I'd have liked to have pretended as if I was surprised when Chloe texted me from Jimin's apartment, letting me know that a screaming match was happening in Jungkook's sitting room.
But I wasn't surprised - I had met Tiff, after all.
Though I was slightly surprised to hear that he had been the one to end things. I hadn't anticipated that.
From the safety of Jimin's room, Chloe had heard it all; Jungkook calling Tiff out on her bullshit, and her thinly veiled attempts to save face.
"She's a fucking nutter," Chloe whistled when we got into the office the next morning. "She was asking for forgiveness at first, claiming it was all a misunderstanding - but then! WHEW BOY!"
Chloe animated her speech with exaggerated hand gestures and facial expressions.
"When Jungkook didn't back down, she tried to blame it all on you. Said that she stopped seeing colour as soon as she saw you in the apartment, and my god, I've never heard him angrier - and trust me, those boys get pissed at each other playing video games."
I didn't want to violate Jungkook's right to privacy, but I couldn't help but want to know more. Chloe knew me like the back of her hand, so I didn't even need to ask for her to spill everything.
