Love Story Short | Jikook/Kookmin

Chapter 13

[A/N: Hii helloo, how are my labellies? So I've managed to get a chapter out, eh? I've spent so so long editing, writing, adding stuff, removing, and... finally it is ready for your enjoyment! I hope you take your time reading through, because this one is intense! Let me know with your comments what you think about it, and drop your theory at the end so we can have some fun exchanging ideas. :)]

Jungkook doesn't know what this is.

It could be the cabbage pancake he had for lunch, or the buzz of a headache that hasn't left the junction between his neck and his spine since the end of last week — something is just driving him crazy.

He isn't having the easiest day at work either with so many unsatisfied clients ringing his phone and the boss going a little overboard with personal requests. Jin is taking his day off, which means Jungkook doesn't have anyone to bother and relieve some of this stress either. He is puffing passive-aggressive breaths through his nose, and it's clearly bothering his colleagues around the table because they have stopped the meeting to openly stare at him.

"It's stuffy in here," Jungkook points his eyes around the board room from where he is snuggled into a chair to the point his double chin manifests. He'd have to take a shot if this were Card of Lies, considering the fact that there is an air purifier working full-time on top of the cabinet in the corner. 

They choose to ignore his awful lie. Jimin resumes his presentation and everybody goes back to paying attention at the powerpoint projected onto the wall. The big heading on the screen spells "Submission Deadline: Tomorrow", an angry red that blinks at Jungkook as if challenging him to eat his own shit.

Jungkook scoffs. At this rate he will.

Jimin clicks a button on his pointer. The powerpoint changes to a black page indicating the end of the slideshow. It's the perfect representation of everything else that is about to fade into a black soon, and Jungkook is panicking.

Another series of huffy breaths leave his nose, mouth, even eyes, and Jungkook finds himself truly suffocating this time. He lied. He knows what this is. He felt it on that plane to America and he felt it every other time he ever had to leave anything since then. His therapist called it emotional indigestion. He has failed to learn how to deal with it.

The meeting is over and everyone is scattering. Jungkook gets caught up in a Q&A session with some of his team members about other projects running in the department. By the time he raises his head to look around, Jimin is no longer in the room.

Darkness elopes Jungkook's heart.

This is going to be his reality by the end of the week. And it's already Thursday.

...

Now it's Friday.

The sun is blazing the skies, blowing a wind of warmth over the clouds. Its residues fall on Seoul, bounce off the flashy tinted windows of high rises, and land on Jungkook's skin as he powers through the crowd blocking the length of the main street.

It's past lunch time but Jungkook still hasn't eaten anything. He wasn't planning to anyway. He can't eat anything when he is stressed out of his wits, like this. Suffering from lack of oxygen among a congested block of people, he tries to take advantage of little gaps to spring forward. 

Tear buds occupy his forehead. The thin fabric of his dress shirt sticks to his armpits and his back, and he is thankful for wearing a jacket to cover it all up. He needs to be looking good, even though it's quite pointless trying to make an impression when he has made no countable effort to make things any better between Jimin and himself the entire week.