french girl • j.jk

двадцать шесть

january 15th

"look what we have here..."

well, you were going to get caught one day; you just didn't expect him to find out by catching the note before you could. mans got reflexes.

the crumbled piece of paper had been flying in slow motion from namjoon's direction, ready to perfectly land on your palm before the catch was interrupted by another hand mid-air. a hand that had your name permanently written on it.

"'we're gonna start braiding each other's hair soon enough'?" he quietly read aloud in the midst of your crime statistics lecture. he was avoiding your hands that tried to snatch the note away from him, which was another deja vu. namjoon held in his giggles at your failed attempts to get jungkook to stop reading. "are you guys flirting?!"

shushes came from all corners of the lecture hall, and in his petty nature, jungkook whisper-yelled at them to "fuck off!" you broke into laughter at his expression. you couldn't take him seriously anymore as your relationship progressed; he no longer scared you.

his past did, but you didn't dwell on it.

you clarified as quietly as you could in giggles, "we're poking fun at the goths two rows ahead and also your hair."

"what's wrong with my hair?"

using the hair tie on your wrist, jungkook watched you in confusion as you tied his hair into a manbun. once you took in the view of him, you gasped as your heart did flips. "oh jesus..."

he looked absolutely god-like, which was strange since the only difference was his hairstyle. you knew he was attractive, but the charm of his long hair only just hit you - that is until he threw the tie at you in disgust.

"don't even think about it, i'm not a fucking girl."

you continued staring at him in awe, making a mental note to make it a habit for jungkook to tie his hair everyday after dismissal. well, after you also spoke with mr. johnson; though you decided to ignore jungkook's past, a confrontation was required.

without jungkook on your tail as he was busy with catching up on your exchanged notes with namjoon, who couldn't escape his wrath, you went to find the worn out professor packing his belongings. you knocked on the open door. "sir?"

he looked up at you from the podium. "miss ayen, hello."

"hi," you squeaked and walked up to his side. "i had a question about..."

he raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for you to finish. "about psychology?"

"no, it's more... personal," you cleared your throat for much needed courage. you'd come this far to see him, might as well get an answer. "do you have a daughter?"

he blinked. "that's private information, miss ayen. i like to keep my relationships with students professional, now is that all?"

you stammered as he picked up his briefcase, headed to leave you behind. "i met someone named vanessa johnson."

he halted and slowly turned back around to face you. sternly he said, "excuse me?"

"do you know her?"

"how do you know her? if her name left that asian kid's mouth, he must have a damn death wish."

at least he cracked. "i didn't find out from him... it was his mother."

he cleared his throat and avoided your eyes, appreciating the wooden floor. "is she out of prison? how did you get in contact?"

you shook your head guiltily. "no, i... i visited her in prison. she told me she was framed."

bitter laughter reached your ears, as if the man was in pain. "framed by the boy you're dating?" he mockingly asked. "if you have half a mind, listen to a detective and a witness and run for the hills."

immediately coming to your boyfriend's defense, your voice came out louder than you'd intended when you spoke, "he's changed. and it's rich coming from a father who doesn't even visit his imprisoned daughter. you know what she first asked me when i came to meet her?"

he stayed silent, clearly curious but unwilling to admit.

"vanessa," he winced, "asked me if you had sent me to see her; now tell me how you're any better than him. if jungkook did what you believe he did, he needs to face the consequences. if even you refuse to listen to her side of the story, then who will? if she's a witness, a victim, then why are you allowing a guilty man walk free?"

okay, that wasn't exactly a defense, but i'm not becoming a lawyer anyway. before walking out, you finished, "if anything, you're just as guilty as jungkook."

and so am i.

you had to face it, you were dating a criminal mastermind. were you lying when you said he had changed? yes and no; he did make you go through the same torture as vanessa, but he had gone a long way in the past three weeks or so since then. considering his trauma and assumed separation anxiety, his actions are at least understandable. the boy just wanted to be loved unconditionally, without a doubt.

you loved him more than you loved yourself, and that's what he needed. vanessa couldn't provide that sort of love for him, and you were sickly thankful for that.

on your way to the dorm, your hand was suddenly pulled to the side, dragging your body along to a narrow hallway. you recognized the figure as jungkook as he angrily heaved in front of you. "jun-"

"what were you doing with mister johnson?"

oh you know, i just convinced our professor to go back to his old detective ways to hunt you down. maybe it was just you, but you were reluctant to voice those thoughts to the fuming man in front of you.

"i needed help with an assignment," you lied through your teeth.

he placed his arms on the wall, trapping you with your back against it. "and you had to do it privately? all alone with him?" he laughed dryly as your heart raced. "i guess it's only expected in america for whores to get top grades after private lecturing with their professors, hm?"

wait a damn minute. your stomach sank when you realized he was accusing you of getting together with mr. johnson out of all people for your academic success. you almost wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much to hear him say that.

you pushed him away but he moved away on his own will, seeing as your strength wasn't much compared to his build. "how dare you?"

"hm?"

you yanked his hair back by the roots as he lowered his eyes to look down on you, unfazed. "i had a fucking question to ask and i didn't need to spread my legs to get an answer. have some goddamn respect for me, will you?"

you let go of his hair, and you stomped your way back to your dorm angrily. it was annoying that you were still surprised by the softness of his hair, while he was annoyed at himself for getting turned on by the sudden pain.

match made in heaven.