JUNGKOOK
Days on trial: 69
It had been raining for three days.
The droplets never seemed to cease. All day, and straight through the night, they'd pitter-patter against the panes of my window, which I'd spent an equally long time laying beneath. My hands intertwined on top of my stomach, eyes dead set on the crisp white ceiling above me.
There was no point looking elsewhere. At least when I was fixated on the ceiling, I could at least pretend the things around me were still in colour.
Occasionally, I'd shuffle to adjust my body into a more comfortable position, and the scent of Annie's perfume would waft from my sheets. It was a sweet, and comforting, and caused colour to shoot across my retinas like fireworks.
But, as with all fireworks, the explosion was fleeting, and I'd soon be left in a state of Mono once more.
My phone sat discarded next to my mattress, tossed to the side once it had finally lost charge in the early hours of the morning. I hadn't bothered plugging it back in, because then the temptation to contact Annie would be too strong.
I wanted nothing more than to pick my phone up and hear her voice of the other end of the call.
She'd tell me that things were alright, and that we could figure things out, I knew that - but figuring things out would only confuse the situation even more.
I remembered the look on her face when she first saw gold; the bright eyes and the disbelieving smile. What a joy it would have been watching the rest unfold.
A selfish, self-serving, cruel joy.
I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't let her experience colours for me when I'd never be able to reciprocate. She deserved more than that; more than me.
"Right, c'mon," Jimin shouted up towards me, throwing one of the scatter cushions from the sofa my way. "I'm sick of you lying up there like a love sick puppy. We're going out."
"I don't wanna go out," I grumbled, hugging the pillow that had landed on me into my chest.
"Tough. You owe me."
"Don't remind me," I groaned, knowing that I did, in fact, owe him.
I'd asked him and Chloe to go and get Annie for me, because I couldn't bring myself to face her. Not like this.
I didn't want her to have to get the train, but I also didn't think it was fair forcing her to spend an extended period of time trapped in the car with me, not when she probably already hated my guts.
She'd stop texting me yesterday, so I guessed she getting was over it. Over us. Whatever 'us' was.
Which was good, I tried convincing myself. It was good that she'd be over it. It's better this way.
Sighing, with a hefty groan, I rolled out of bed and down the stairs, not really caring for what I looked like - which was 'shit', according to Jimin. Walking towards the kitchen, I threaded the bronze button through the top of my slim fit cargo jeans, as my baggy hoodie sunk down to the top of my thighs.
"You'll get all the girls looking like that," Jimin spoke dryly, sarcastically. Shooting him a glare, I chose not respond.
He knew there was only one girl I wanted to 'get'.
Ruffling my hair slightly to give it some volume instead of just letting it cling to the shape of my head, I knew that I needed to get my shit together. Moping about like this wasn't helping the situation, and it certainly wasn't going to fix it either.
