When It Comes To You |j.k

43: 玫瑰的刺

I sit up from the mattress as the sound of cluttering from the kitchen wakes me up from my sleep.

I reach around the blanket and realize Jungkook was no longer beside me. I look to the refrigerator and find him fidgeting with whatever was inside.

"What are you doing?"

He pops his head up from behind the refrigerator door and smiles a little, "You're awake."

I wait for his answer silently and he dips his head back in, "I'm just sorting your food. Some of these seem to have gone bad."

Frowning, I grab a shirt from the edge of the mattress and slip it over me, "Don't you have work? Why are you organizing my stuff?"

He isn't a man with a lot of time, is what I'm saying.

"It's just that the refrigerator doesn't seem to be preserving the food very well. Maybe I should get you a better one."

He shuts it close and walks to my sink, turning on the tap water.

"I don't need a new refrigerator, Jungkook."

"You clearly do. The food in your refrigerator is barely even cold when I touch them." He starts cleaning my dishes, and I plop right back to the mattress with my eyes to the ceiling.

I don't even know what he's so persistent about.

"Well I'm sorry I'm not crazy rich like you and have a refrigerator the size of my whole flat."

The scrubbing stops.

I hear a deep exhale leave his lips, "You know that's not what I mean, Aera. I'm looking out for you."

I sit up, eyes ready to burn right through his, "Well I don't need you to spoil me, Jungkook. I'm just fine here on my own and I don't like feeling as if you're just here to pity me and do charity work with all your money, and with your time, as well."

He scrubs harder and faster on the plates.

"I just want to take care of you, is that so hard to understand? It's not because I pity you, and it's not some goddamn charity work. I just want to give to the woman that I love, can I not do that? Not even that?"

"Spending your money unreasonably isn't giving, Jungkook, it's wasting," I feel the irritation rise in my voice, "You pull out your credit card like it's nothing. I'm a woman with dignity, I'd be fucking strange if I let you treat me like a charity case."

"Why are you suddenly being so defensive?" He puts the clean plate down on the counter roughly and reaches for a dirty bowl.

"Because you were gone for three years and now that you're back, you act like you're my fucking saviour and l I can't do anything without you. You're buying me shit I don't need, making decisions about my home and leaving your things here like we're a married couple. We've never discussed any of this together and you just roam around like it's all okay."

The tap water stops running.

"You come to my flat late at night, fuck me, and after that in bed you tell me all these cheesy lies. In the morning you throw me money like I'm some kind of woman in need, and then you're gone."

"Why are you trying to paint me like I'm some kind of monster? You're all over the place, so what do you really want?"

The bowl is still in his hand as he grips on it tightly until his knuckles burned a ghostly white.

"All I do is for you, and yet you're too caught up in your insecurities to feel grateful." He muttered as he placed the bowl down harshly.

"I am grateful!" I grit, "Grateful that you give me so much and that I can only take. Grateful that I have nothing to give back to you. Grateful that you make me feel fucking worthless every time you come here!"