french girl • j.jk

двадцать семь

you didn't let jungkook in your dorm that night, leaving him to stay in his hellhole he used to call home.

the guilt had vanished into thin air after witnessing his familiar tantrum, but the slight concern remained; even as he banged on the door, wanting in.

"you're being immature, ayen," his muffled voice from the other side of the door scolded. "can we talk this out like grown adults? listen, i'm sorry, you know i act on impulse-"

you tuned him out as he resorted to kicking the trembling wood. it wouldn't be long before a noise complaint had him out of the campus.

with your eyes closed and earphones tucked in, you fell asleep to jungkook's musical voice.

by twelve a.m., he was on his way to the cursed apartment. too many discussions had taken place with her name involved, as if she was still alive. that made him feel eerie; he just wanted her gone from his life. although cliché, you had made him realize the darkness of his past, how bad he had been to soojin and vice versa.

avoiding the master bedroom, he lied down on the stiff couch. he brought his hand up to his hair, pulling it gently to mimic the same feeling you'd given him earlier. it felt relaxing to imagine it as your hand.

a satisfied hum left his mouth, his eyes droopy. his husky voice whined lowly, "i hate it here..."

he missed you.

the house was cold and anything but home. he felt empty yet scared. the blank ceiling started to grow patterns as he stared thoughtfully; distant music playing with the crackles of a record player from the depths of his mind.

soojin had loved classical music.

jungkook bit his lip and tried to get off to his anxious fear. he massaged his crotch under his pants, gaining only a bit of pleasure; just to balance out the pleasant feeling and unwanted thoughts.

the piano notes eventually turned into his composition, and he sighed contently. that was enough for him to drift off by dawn.

january 16th

jungkook tied up his hair, not so perfectly like you had, but it was the thought that counted. your eyes had lit up at the sight of him in a manbun the other day, so it was the first step to get you to pay attention to him.

he needed you to listen to him, and he needed to listen to mr. johson.

the roles just kept switching; after his apology came a confrontation, but the latter could wait until he had his hands back on your heart.

after being tailed by jungkook whenever you switched seats in lectures to avoid him, you gave up. no words had been exchanged until he slipped you a note.

unlike his last mess up, he was the first to speak up.

it's already been established that your curiosity is going to be the death of you, but you tried to resist reading it. pettiness came with stubborness, so it wasn't difficult to stop yourself from glancing at his neatly written apology.

his beautiful cursive handwriting...

he nudged your side desperately. it was hard enough to avoid looking at him when his hair was tied up, his tattoos were on display, he was wearing a tight fitting grey turtleneck and he wrote to you, but you fought your hormones.

you lasted ten seconds.

'i'm sorry, can we talk after class? this feels like middle school all over again, but i don't know how else to get you to talk to me'

admiring every single letter's grace, you pursed your lips to suppress a smile at the little heart at the end of the sentence. it was so simple, but felt so cute - especially since he was a closeted artist. he conveyed his emotions through his each and every stroke.

"fine," you whispered to him sternly. you still needed to keep up a cold unforgiving image to make him realize you weren't playing around - you had no business dealing with disrespect like that. "five minutes maximum."

though you weren't facing him, he still nodded like a hyper toddler. five minutes to make up for such a heavy accusation; you really needed to get over your forgiving nature.

after the final lecture, he pulled you aside as the crowded hall slowly dispersed. he stared at you and you stared back. he was clutching his sketchbook tightly in his hand out of apprehension, which you noticed from your peripheral vision. it warmed your heart to see him so nervous.

"i... get mad sometimes," he began and you snorted instantly. he ignored your mockery and continued, "and i don't take into consideration what i say or do. i'm sure that happens to a lot of people, but i become infinitely times more insensitive. i say things i don't mean, and i didn't mean what i said to you. of course i didn't believe it, that's why i'm trying to apologize."

he sighed solemnly, "i'm sorry - really, truly sorry. if you don't believe my words, just look at the bird nest on my head. that took effort."

you slightly giggled; it was a messy bun, but it looked gorgeous on him either way. you appreciated the words, but you wanted to leave him alone with his thoughts for some time - as well as yourself.

with pure hope in his voice, he asked, "do you forgive me?"

"i'll think about it."

well, while you were apparently thinking about it, jungkook moved onto his next step.

mr. johnson.

the same exact scene took place, except jungkook was the lead instead of you.

"sir?"

"oh for fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath so his student wouldn't hear. with a fake smile plastered on his face, he greeted jungkook.

"i had a question to ask."

instead of beating around the bush like you had, he flatly asked without waiting for a response, "ayen was confused about something and she came to you, right?" after receiving a nod, he continued, "what was it about? she won't tell me out of embarrassment."

"it was about you, mister jeon."

jungkook rose a brow questioningly. "me?"

"yes, and vanessa." the professor was proud of himself for pronouncing his daughter's name so clearly without hesitation.

the boy cleared his throat, trying to suppress his growing anger towards you. "could you elaborate?"

"well, her and i are aware that you framed that woman. she was just expressing her disappointment in me for letting a guilty man walk free."

jungkook's sight was changing colors. it was getting harder to stop himself from jumping the man in front of him before running off to your dorm to give you a good lesson about not tattling. he calmly repeated, "framed?"

"why, of course. but do not sweat it, dear jungkook," he waved his hand dismissively, "i'm not going after you as long as you do not cross me or my daughter ever again. i do know you had planned it perfectly enough to leave out any evidence to support my claim, in addition to my resignation from the police force."

the oddly tranquil man stepped close to the violently shaking boy with his fists clenched. "however, if you put ayen elen in any danger... you know just as well as i do, there's no way you're manipulating your way out of it."

jungkook glared at him, knowing if he spoke now, he was going to put himself in a place he couldn't escape.

as if he had just remembered a funny memory, mr. johnson laughed sinisterly. "you know, i have always wondered the case behind soojin kang. isn't it strange that she had been involved with your mother before her death? it's like trouble always follows you. i'll find out soon enough if it's all a coincidence."

he exited the stage, leaving jungkook without any lines to say.

you were off the hook.