Hate that I love you | Jikook | COMPLETED

Chapter 3

And I can't stand you

Must everything you do make me wanna smile

Can I not like you for awhile? (No)

But you won't let me

– Hate that I love you, Rihanna ft. Ne-Yo

Despite what he told himself, Jungkook wasn't ready to meet Jimin. His heart thundered against his ribs and he tried his best to keep himself grounded. It scared him that even after all these years, just the thought of Jimin had this kind of effect on him. He felt as if he was transported back in time, where he waited for Jimin for their first date.

Seokjin rubbed his neck as if sensing his turmoil. Almost all the guests have arrived for the brunch. There were a few who would reach tomorrow, but Jungkook only expected to see one person.

He badly needed a drink, but it was too early so he clung to his breakfast wine, made from old vine Gordo and black Muscat grapes. Though he picked it as a means to keep him distracted, the stupid pink kept him reminding of Jimin's soft, pink lips.

Fuck Park Jimin and his stupid lips.

It had been years. He shouldn't be thinking of that anymore. His hyungs were right. He really was obsessed. This was such a bad idea. He shouldn't have invited Jimin. Before he could chastise further, there was a movement in the door and like a magnet, his entire body turned toward the direction.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath when Jimin entered the hall. His entire being froze and tuned out the sounds around him. His tunneled vision was trained on his ex, who now had his natural black hair instead of the blond he often sported in college.

He was still as beautiful as he remembered, if not more. Jimin was fucking ethereal and Jungkook always thought he was out of this world. His heart stopped beating for a moment and started again. He felt someone's hand encircling his waist, one hand going to his lower back. But his mind registered nothing more than that. His sole attention was on the man, who looked around for a moment before removing his aviator sunglasses.

Jimin looked around the hall and their eyes met. Just like that, Jungkook was transported back to the moment he first realized he wanted Jimin more than as a friend. Jimin wore a white button-up with blue jeans. The sleeves were rolled back to his elbow. The top two buttons of his shirt were open revealing that smooth skin he once loved to mark.

Fucking hell.

What the fuck, Jungkook?

He tried to look at all of Jimin at once. His panicked/nervous/anxious mind failed to register anything that was happening around him. If he had been normal, he'd have noticed the way his hyungs sucked in a breath. Or the way they talked in hushed whispers among them. No. Jungkook noticed none of that. He didn't hear what was being spoken.

If he had listened, maybe it would have saved him for what was to come. When Jungkook had blinked to clear his vision and taken a few deep breaths to calm himself, it was too late. Jimin had begun walking toward them. His mind finally registered the way Jimin leaned to his right a little more than usual and limped with every step he took.

Did Jimin fall or something? One look at the worn-out crutch and the orthopedic shoes told him that wasn't the case.

His throat constricted and his hands trembled. So Jimin didn't become a dancer. Jungkook didn't know how to react to this realization. That alone felt like a slap to his face. It doused him with cold water, forcing him to see something he hasn't even imagined of. This wasn't how he thought he would see Jimin.