♠︎ fifty

CHAPTER FIFTY

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♠︎ YOU

Back in the kitchen, you poured yourself a generous helping of rum, knocking it back with a wince.

As soon as it was running through your veins, you set off in search of Yoongi.

On a night like tonight, he was the only one you could trust - the only one you felt comfortable having a complete breakdown in front of, apart from Nia, who was decidedly absent. You ascended the stairs (had you only turned around, you would have realised Yoongi was right there in the kitchen with you, but the rum was impeding your decision-making quite a bit) and set off for his bedroom. 

Knocking the door got no response, at first. So you knocked again harder, figuring Yoongi was just asleep and needed waking. Eventually, the door opened - but it wasn't who you thought it would be.

Taehyung blinked at you wearily from the darkness of the room. Clearly he'd been sleeping, and woken by your knocking. 

"What are you doing in Yoongi's room?" you demanded, emboldened by the rum.

"Um..." he began, amber eyes alive with confusion. "Nothing? This is my room."

You glanced at him, and then down the corridor - realising you had miscounted the doors - before looking back at him again.

"Oh," you hiccuped a little, squaring your eyes at Taehyung. "Sorry. I thought..."

"Yoongi's room is next door, but I don't think he's in there," he said, by way of explanation, eyeing you worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Do you care?" you bit back immediately, entirely unsure where this venom had come from. Taehyung too, it seemed, was taken aback by your harshness.

"You're so confusing," he rubbed his face blearily. "Earlier at dinner you said you forgave me, and you were being all... but now you're being all-"

"Yes, well, I'm hurting," you rolled your eyes, as if it were obvious. "It makes me act irrational. Have you never dealt with a hurt woman before?"

"Truthfully, I've found I'm pretty shit with women on the whole," he said candidly. "Especially recently."

You nodded sagely. "I second that."

Taehyung grimaced, but he didn't seem particularly hurt by this.

"I don't think you're a bad guy, Tae," you admitted, picking at a thread on your t-shirt. "But... you did some pretty bad stuff. To me. And Kookie."

Taehyung just nodded in agreement, gazing down at you, clearly wondering where this was going.

"And now I've hurt him too," you hiccupped. "He got hurt twice, Tae. He deserves better than that."

The tears were welling in your eyes before you could stop them, and you knew, then, that Taehyung was realising the true extent of his actions in bringing Yoora here. Maybe he wasn't directly responsible, but he was seeing that yours and Jungkook's... relationship... was in tatters, as of this evening.

"I think you should go to bed," he said now, in a kind voice. "Sleep it off, okay? Go talk to Jungkookie in the morning."

You shook your head in refusal, stumbling a little, remembering your words to him out on the terrace. Go back to her, Kookie. We're done here.

No way would Jungkook want to talk to you in the morning, after that.

Trembling, you tried to get the words out to Taehyung to explain what had happened, but the words wouldn't come. 

He eyed you with concern, until he spotted someone behind you, shooting them a wave. "Hey - can you help me?" he called.

You swivelled to find out who he had addressed, spying the one person you wanted to see the least - apart from Jungkook. Yoora nodded sweetly, making her way down the corridor towards you.

"Why are you asking her?" you muttered, trying to make it sound venomous and completely failing as you wiped your tears away hastily.

Taehyung gazed at you. "Because I'm fairly certain I just saw Jungkook go into his room, and if he saw you here with me, I don't even want to know what he's thinking right now."

You shrugged at the mention of Jungkook having seen you, aiming for uncaring and cold, and landing somewhere between devastated and furious instead. Taehyung looked like he wanted to ask you more about what had happened tonight, but at that exact moment, Yoora caught up to you both.

"Hey," she said, her smile fresh and gorgeous, which you hated her immediately for. "What's up?"

"Can you help me get her to bed?" Taehyung indicated at you. "She's drunk."

"She has a name," you snapped back. "And I'm not that drunk!"

As you said it, you threw your head back indignantly - and smacked it against Taehyung's doorframe.

"Ow," you rubbed at your head. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have downed all that rum.

"C'mon," Taehyung ushered you down the corridor - away from Jungkook's room, and towards your own. "It's bedtime."

As you walked, you were only too aware of Yoora's presence on your other side. You turned to gaze at her, transfixed by the way her ebony hair fell so straight like some kind of voluminous waterfall, and when she caught you staring, she said - "Um... you okay there?"

"You're very pretty," you replied in a slight slur, smiling at Yoora, who grinned back in amusement. "It's no wonder he likes you."

"Huh?" she looked confused for a moment, before locking eyes with Taehyung for confirmation. "Oh - Jungkookie? I wouldn't worry about that, that was ages ago."

"Not that long ago," you pointed out, as Taehyung opened the door to your bedroom, ushering the three of you inside. 

But Yoora had just laughed. "Well, he hasn't said a word to me all day," she replied. "I think maybe he's moved on."

You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Doesn't matter. All ruined now anyway," you muttered.

An awful, long silence ensued.

"Um," Taehyung cut in awkwardly, eyeing you in sympathy as he pointed as his spot by your door. "Not to interrupt, but I'm gonna wait here while you two..."

"Oh," Yoora realised, nodding in agreement that this was the right thing to do, and even you could accept that Taehyung was being almost too gentlemanly right now. "Yeah, come on, I'll help you get changed."

"I'm not that drunk," you rolled your eyes, but it was hard for you to be so annoyed with someone who was acting almost angelic, given the circumstances. "I can just sleep in my t-shirt."

With that you wandered into your bathroom with a pair of sleep shorts in hand, changing into them and hastily brushing your teeth. Yoora was still there when you came out, having secured an empty glass from your desk, and as you clambered into bed she filled it for you, placing it down on your bedside table.

You watched her from beneath your covers, with a strange sense of guilt and gratitude.

"Thank you," you murmured, realising with horror that you were about to cry, in front of the one woman you had promised yourself you'd be totally cool around.

"Hey," she reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek. "Don't cry! He's just a boy. Boys aren't worth it."

You giggled a little, seeing Taehyung roll his eyes from the doorway. You didn't think Taehyung had told Yoora his true intentions in inviting her here, meaning Yoora must have worked out what had happened between you and Jungkook all by herself.

Not that it was hard. Your behaviour tonight had been... less than ordinary, to say the least.

"Will you be okay?" Yoora was saying now, concern etched across her delicate features. "I can get you some painkillers or something if-"

"No no, I'm fine," you said hastily, stomach churning in guilt at the idea that this virtual stranger was having to take care of you. "I'm really not too drunk, honestly, I'll just go right off to sleep. Thank you, though. Really."

Yoora flashed you a kind smile as she retreated. "It's okay. Goodnight, then." 

"Goodnight Yooba," you called after her, settling into the pillows.

"Yoora," she corrected, although she was smiling.

"Prefer Yooba, to be honest," you insisted.

Yoora turned to you from the doorframe. "Yooba it is then," she conceded, throwing that gorgeous smile of hers over her shoulder. "Sleep well!"

Damn, you thought to yourself as she ushered Taehyung out, clicking the door shut behind them, the image of her smile burned into your brain as the room went dark. If I liked women I'd be so in love right now.

The thought of this only brought the man you were actually in love with rushing back in a sudden attack of memory and guilt. The tears fell afresh as you curled into the sheets, remembering the three awful words you had uttered - we're done here - playing on repeat in your head.

Eventually, exhausted from rum and emotions and perpetual tears, you cried yourself into a deep, fitful sleep.

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When you awoke, you were parched.

It was early - you alway woke up way too early when you'd been drinking, a sign that you were dehydrated. You fetched the water Yoora had left for you, downing it in one gulp, and letting the shame and horror from the previous night wash over you. 

Fighting with Jungkook.

Telling him it was over.

Drinking too much.

Knocking on Tae's door by mistake.

And, perhaps worst of all, crying in front of Yoora.

No, you realised, remembering how kind and understanding Yoora had been. That wasn't the worst. Telling him it was over was by far the worst thing you did last night. 

God, how could you have been such a fucking idiot? You'd just let the best person in your life go; a man you knew was near perfect, perhaps the best you would ever have a chance with. He was so kind, and funny, and handsome, and easily dominant, and he watched Disney films with you, and he listened, really listened to you when you spoke; and fuck, you loved him more than you'd ever thought possible in the span of just under six weeks.

And you'd told him it was over.

There was no way in hell that you could face him now.

As if sending a final killer blade through your heart, you remembered suddenly what Taehyung had said last night; that Jungkook had seen you and him, standing at his door.

Your chest tightened in panic and guilt, thinking of the conclusions Jungkook must have drawn.

This is it, you thought, shrinking internally at the thought of having hurt him even further. This is really it this time. There's no going back from this.

And in your panic-fuelled, guilt-ridden stupor, you realised there was really only one reasonable course of action left to take.

You were right in the middle of pulling your suitcase out from underneath your bed, setting it down on the mattress with a thump, when your phone began to ring. You answered it with a sigh, holding it between your ear and shoulder.

"Hey Ni," you greeted sombrely.

"Stop packing right this instant," she ordered, her tone so commanding it made your jaw drop.

"What the-" you glanced around the room, as if she might magically appear from underneath the bed. "Are you spying on me?"

"No," she replied triumphantly.  "Yoongi filled me in, and I know my bestie far too well. You woke up early, because you always do when you drink too much - and now you're panicking about what happened with Johnsock last night, and thinking about going home."

You stood, mouth still hanging open, the empty suitcase gaping up at you. "I'm astounded," you told her honestly. "Seriously, Ni, how do you do that-"

"Yeah yeah," she waved you off brusquely. "Now come on, talk to Auntie Ni. What happened?"

With a deep inhale, you stopped your motions, and explained everything to Nia, leaving no detail out. Halfway through you had to pause, because you'd started crying, but you managed to stop and compose yourself enough to get through the rest of the story.

"So you see," you finished, perched on the bed and smoothing a t-shirt between your hands, "Why I have to come home."

"Oh no bitch," Nia laughed, but it wasn't a happy one - it was dark and warning. "Are you kidding? You are not running away from your feelings right now."

"But," you began, feeling a lump in your throat form that you pushed down, because you had cried enough now. "It's finished, Ni. We're finished."

"Baby girl, let me tell you this and I want you to listen. You are running from a man who does not want to be run from," she reminded you sternly. "This is a man who has openly admitted that he wants to be with you. I hate to say it, girl, but you are acting really fucking delusional right now."

"Hey," you threw back, defensive immediately. "I am not-"

"Oh yes you are," she cut you off. "At what point has that man given you any reasons to doubt him?"

"He didn't trust me last night," you pointed out - but even you know that this was a pathetic excuse.

"From the way Yoongi tells it, he was drunk, and you were pretty drunk too," Nia shot back. "And so what if the man has a lapse in judgement every now and then? So he's not perfect, tough shit. Not all men can be Namjoon."

You rolled your eyes. "Namjoon is not perfect."

"Right, and I suppose I don't have a fat ass, either," she scoffed sarcastically. "Anyway, you know I'm right. Juan is not perfect, but he is perfect for you, girl. You can't walk away from him now."

"I can and I will," you said defiantly, although after this conversation, you were struggling to find any good reasons as to why you should leave. But you were still so humiliated by what you had done, so ashamed of yourself, that your flight response had kicked in, and wouldn't rest until you were at a safe distance from Jungkook.

Jungkook deserved better than you anyway, no matter how much you might want him. Better that he realised that sooner, rather than later.

"You haven't finished the article," Nia threw back at you triumphantly, knowing she'd alighted on a good point here. "Your boss will skin you alive if you don't finish it, and you told me you haven't interviewed him yet."

"I don't have to interview him," you pointed out pettily. "I know him well enough to write it, Ni."

"Okay, so do it," she challenged. "Write it."

"I don't see how that will change anything," you countered, feeling sour. "And I can just finish it at home."

"Here's the deal," Nia offered. "Finish the article out there. And if you still want to come home after you've finished it, so be it. But if there's any doubt in your mind whatsoever, then you have to stay and talk to him."

You contemplated this. It seemed, on the surface, a fairly good deal. You could lock yourself in your room, finish the article quickly, and then get out of there without having to face anyone today.

And at least that way, you wouldn't have to think of him again once you were home. 

"Okay, fine," you agreed. "I'll finish it."

"That's my girl," Nia said proudly. "And remember, this isn't just any guy we're talking about losing here. This is the Grand Coochie Whisperer Supreme. And also, the love of your life."

"Not the love of my life," you mumbled, though fresh tears sprang to your eyes at even the thought of it. 

"Right, sure he's not," Nia smiled down the phone. "Now go write, bitch."

With that, she was gone.

The moment you put your phone down, you reached for your laptop, opening up to the section where you had drafted the article all the way up to the section on Jungkook. But just like yesterday, as soon as you tried to write even one word about him, you couldn't bring yourself to type them. 

Shit, you thought, cursing Nia and her psychic powers. You had a funny feeling she knew, somehow, that you were struggling to write about him. And the more you struggled, the longer it took you to finish the article; hence, more time spent on the island in close proximity to Jungkook. 

Who, in your current shame spiral, you didn't want to be anywhere near at all, for fear you'd just hurt him more.

In a moment of desperation, you closed your laptop, reaching for your notepad and pen instead. You often did this, when you had writers' block; returning to pen and paper was therapeutic, a way to get your brain working again.

Without the blue light glare of your laptop, you felt marginally more relaxed. Sitting back against your headboard - the suitcase now entirely forgotten about - you tucked your feet under your butt, remembering the countless times you had sat here with Jungkook, teaching him, learning him, and falling for him. 

It was like clockwork, the way the ideas began to flow. You uncapped your pen, and got to work.

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