Gold Dust || JJK

26 - Make it right

Jungkook

I wake up with the biggest headache I have ever had, unable to open my eyes as if they are sewn together. Impossible to fight the lead weight, I roll off the bed with my eyes closed and feel the soft petals under my feet.

What a fucking joke.

My whole apartment is decked out with rose petals for what was supposed to be a surprise. I had everything planned in detail. I bought two hundred roses and spread them all over the place: couch, floor, bed, bathroom, kitchen counter. Everywhere.

It may be cliché, but I am not good at romantic stuff. I needed to google for two hours straight ways to impress your girlfriend and what a romantic dinner would look like, and I came up with this.

Overused. Banal. Corny. I fucking know that.

I admit it. I suck at this so bad that it feels like I'm fourteen and cannot even write a love letter without taking a random romcom as an inspiration. Nothing would be enough for her, and with all the money in the world and all the ideas in my head, it would still be insufficient to express my feelings for her.

After the party, I wanted to bring her to my place and enjoy the romantic dinner I cooked for us, surrounded by flowers and candles, make love to her and give her the necklace I bought as a gift.

I don't know what she likes in terms of jewelry, but while I was shopping for a suit for the last night's party, I saw this beautiful necklace with a small planet circled by a ring, pretty much like Saturn.

And it all made sense in my head. She became my cosmos, my universe, pulling me like a vortex toward her, hopelessly gravitating around her being. She motivated me and gave me a sense of purpose, like glittering starlight in my tortuous darkness.

But for the millionth time, I fucked everything up. I'm pushing thirty in a few years, and I am still a celibate with heavy emotional weight, alone in my house around rose petals. How fucking ironic.

I take a look around and I am embarrassed.

Red petals. Red like the blood boiling in my veins every time I see her and red like the anger rushing through me each time someone sets their eyes on her.

Pink petals. Pink like her cheeks flushing with my every touch on her perfectly shaped body and pink like her pretty little lips, swollen after each kiss we share.

White petals. White like the calmness she brings in me every time she's in my arms and white like the silence my monster falls into as I rest my head on her lap.

I am utterly exhausted, and the day is overcast, mirroring my mood. I guess sleep does not help when your soul is tired, and like the moon, we must go through phases of emptiness to feel complete again.

I don't want to drudge up the memories, but everything that happened last night was wrong. No. Everything that happened last night had a promising beginning until it turned into a nightmare. Now I feel lonely in places I didn't even know existed in me.