Jungkook came to make you feel good (it's not what you're thinking)

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Namjoon had a history of loving catastrophically - his love rippled through his mind, waves washing over his senses, destroying his intellect, his common sense, oratory and diction.

Namjoon's love was quick-fused and rendered him silly, overturning his already gangly body, tumbling him over. His love was dimpled smiles, stuttered phrases and hazed obliviousness to social queues.

A crush, albeit smaller in its calamity, still left him confused, sometimes a bit disoriented. It had been years since he last felt his chest swell and his hands tremble like that and he couldn't help but to marvel at his own ability to feel so much without stretching his heart too thin.

It fit seven, how could it not fit one more? His heart was generous like that.

But in all its disastrous nature, there was still one thing above all inconveniences that Namjoon did not miss about having a crush: the hoping.

Hope was a dangerous thing to have, he thought, sitting down alone in his studio, cracked phone hanging dangerously from his clumsy fingers. The screen was still lit up with your text message, weighting the device down, dragging it with disappointment.

"Can't make it today" it said "sorry!".

There were stages to Namjoon's disappointment. They were threefold: First, unblamed sadness paired with a foul mood and a desire to stuff his face with consolation ramen mixed with all the contents of his fridge - the melancholy munchies, if you will. His desk was already covered with old chocolate wrappers, unidentifiable crumbs and empty bottles of condiments.

The second stage took the form of petulance and spite. Whatever, he thought, you couldn't make it. So what? He had written, like, 200 songs and he could write one more without you! He didn't need you. He was a strong, independent idol that needed no man. Snap, snap!

The last stage was, as usually is, acceptance. Namjoon was, above almost all, an understanding man.

Something must have come up, he reasoned. Maybe you weren't feeling well. Maybe he could do something nice, like sending flowers or homemade soup (Jin's homemade soup, of course, his would for sure not make you feel any better).

In the end, he settled for texting you back with a simple answer of "Don't worry about it! We can reschedule! Hope you're okay!" after typing and deleting 35 different versions of his well wishes.

This is why hope was dangerous: the aftermath always left a sour taste in his mouth and a complex feeling pounding in his chest. He already was so blessed, already had so much, undestined prayers always answered. How dare he be so sad over this one thing? How ungrateful of him, how greedy, to hope for this blooming crush when he already had deep-rooted loves.

That being said, his luck and privilege also seemed to extend to that, because at least there weren't any poisonous jealousy amongst them, their greed was equally shared. Was it actually greed though, Namjoon wondered, or was it something else? A pull maybe? Could he blame it on the universe or had he no one else to blame for allowing himself to fall victim to the claws of a parasocial relationship when he knew first hand the consequences of them...!

"Namjoon hyung is in his feelings again."

Taehyung was leaning on the door frame, watching with his maknae as their leader stared at absolutely nothing, mind a million miles away, stuck in his weird state of contemplation that he would get every couple weeks when he found something particularly thought provoking, like late stage capitalism or a gachapon Tiktok.

"I would be too" Jungkook agreed and despite his loud voice, Namjoon didn't move an inch "Y/N canceled on him."

Taehyung pursed his lips worriedly "I hope she's okay? Should we send her something?"

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: May 15, 2023 ⏰

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