TWISTED LOVE JEON JUNGKOOK X (READER) {Complete}

Y/N

HE WAS LATE.

I drummed my fingers on the table, resisting the urge to glance at my phone once more. Jungkook and I were supposed to meet at the Italian eatery near campus at seven. Thirty minutes past the hour, and my messages and calls remained unanswered.

A half-hour delay might seem trivial during rush hour, but it was uncharacteristic of Jungkook to be tardy or to ignore my texts.

I had phoned his office, only to learn from his assistant that he had departed over an hour ago; he should have arrived here by now.

Anxiety twisted in my gut, consuming me from within. Had he met with some misfortune? The thought of an accident sent shivers down my spine.

It was all too easy to mistakenly assume that Jungkook was indestructible when, in reality, he was as vulnerable as anyone else.

Another ten minutes—I'll wait just ten more minutes before taking action. If something has befallen him, I certainly won't remain seated and idle.

"Can I get you anything, dear?" The waitress swooped by again. "Other than water," she added pointedly.

The tips of my ears turned red. "No, thanks. I'm, um, still waiting for my friend." That seemed slightly less pathetic than admitting I was waiting for my boyfriend. Slightly.

She let out an aggrieved sigh and moved on to the older couple next to me.

I felt bad about hogging the table on a Friday night, but I'd barely seen Jungkook over the past week, and I missed him. We slept in the same bed every night, and our sex was as explosive as ever, but he seemed more distant during the day. Distracted.

"Y/N?"

My attention snapped upward, and a wave of disappointment washed over me; it wasn't Jungkook. "Remember me?" the man asked, his smile reaching his eyes. He struck a charming figure with his geek-chic style, complete with black-framed glasses and slightly tousled brown hair. "I'm Elliott. We met at Jack's birthday party last spring."

"Oh, yes." I fought back a grimace at the mention of Jack's name—someone I hadn't seen since that charity ball. Jules, always privy to the latest word on the street, had told me Jack was fired and had retreated to his parents' place in Virginia. Frankly, I harbored no sympathy for him. "Good to see you again."

"You too." Elliott shuffled his feet and combed a hand through his hair in a sheepish gesture. "Look, I'm really sorry about how things went down with Jack. After graduation, we lost touch—but I caught wind of your split and everything that ensued. He really messed up."

"Thank you." I didn't hold Elliott accountable for being Jack's friend—or whatever their relationship was now. After all, it was I who had been involved with the man in question—a sad reminder that men often treat their friends far better than they do their girlfriends.

"Sorry to bother you during dinner-" His gaze flicked to my water glass. "But I'm looking for a photographer who can do an engagement shoot for me, and none of the ones I checked out fit what Sally, my fiancée, is looking for. But I saw you and remembered you're a photographer, so I figured it's a sign." Elliott flashed a sheepish smile. "Hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I pulled up your website and showed it to Sally, and she loves your pictures. If you're free in the next few weeks, we'd love to hire you."

I spotted a pretty blonde at a neighboring table watching us. She grinned and waved at me. I waved back.

"Congrats," I said, my smile genuine this time. "I'd love to help. Give me your number, and we can sort out details later."