whipped

ㅡ " hi right back. "

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just so y'all know, I went through a lot of times when I wanted to delete this just bc it wasn't really good enough for me. but then I remember the comments, and how happy it made me the first time I got them, so I stuck with it. 

if you have been reading this from the beginning (even if not exactly. if you found this before this chapter was published, that counts too. anything that meant you had to wait for an update) thank you for waiting. thank you for still reading up to here, cause I know I have written some of the most cringe-worthy chapters. this also goes to those who found this once it was completely done. thank you for reading through it all.

I didn't want to end this story on a good note, as bad as that sounds, but now, writing this, I don't mind this at all. 

and this has been whipped.

love, izzy.

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The sun was barely up.

The sky was tinted blue though, dark, but indicated morning nonetheless.

Jungkook took a sip of his coffee, his free left hand going to his pajama pocket as he did so, feeling cold and empty. He was still sleepy, but aware enough to think. He was at his balcony, with the perfect view of nature. Going there every morning he was home has been a must, because sometimes life gets a little bit overwhelming because of overthinking, something that he does when he wakes up.

He's getting better though. Lately, he found himself going there out of habit. Not out of haunting thoughts.

"that was a mistake," she said. "purely out of heat of the moment. or something. just forget about it."

jungkook didn't know it was possible to feel his heart break again, when it wasn't even whole yet.

He spoke too soon.

He sighed, gulping the rest of his coffee in one go before placing it at the table beside him. 

To be honest, he knew it was impossible to forget those moments. It will always be somewhere in his mind, ready to taunt him and make him wanna burst out and cry.

"bullshit," he all but growled. "that's a fucking lie and you know it."

It still gave him chills. Her surprised look at the sound of his voice, his posture stiff and tense, his hands in fists, and his eyes. Oh his eyes were the worst, he's been told. It was scared and angry. And not angry-mad, no. 

But angry-tired. 

And stare at it longer, much more intently, and you'll see the pain over it. 

The pain that never really left. The pain that appeared when everything went to shit, and grew and grew when things just became crappier. 

He was so scared.

"Jungkook." 

"No," he shook his head. "Don't use that tone of voice, and that-that look on your face! Wipe it off. You don't get to do this to me again." The first tear slipped down then, something that has been happening far too often than he'd care to admit. "You kissed me back. Spit out anything you want but don't tell me that was a mistake. You and I both know it wasn't."

It was insane, really. How hurt, lost, yet so utterly hopeful he was.

And that last thing?

That last thing was so dangerous to be.