in time ✱ j. jungkook

✱ chapter thirty-two

miyoung pov

I was currently still laying on the bed at the nurse's office. She said I was beaten up pretty badly and suggested that I should just stay here for the rest of the day.

Of course I wasn't going to protest.

We actually had a pretty good time. As she treated my bruises, she talked about her life, how she met her husband, the proposal, the marriage, and when they first found out that they were expecting a baby.

The story made me feel all soft inside. Watching her talk about her child and husband was so comforting, you could genuinely tell that her heart was full of love for them.

Could I just stay here for the rest of senior year?

It now neared the end of the day. My wounds were covered in bandages, resulting me to have a big bandaid on my cheek and small cuts around my face.

Talk about attractive.

But now that the school day ended, there was only one thing I was dreading.

Buying ice cream for Jungkook.

The nerve of that guy! I can't believe he really wants me to go out looking like this.

"Miyoung," The nurse called. I looked at her with a small smile. "There's someone here to come get you. A boy." She winks and walks away.

My head falls onto the pillow as I groan. There was only one boy coming to get me.

On cue, the curtain opens, revealing a smug looking Jungkook. He leans on the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at my form.

"You look like shit." He says while trying to stifle a laugh.

I scoff, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Thanks, because a girl loves hearing that."

I put my shoes on and walk to Jungkook. "I need to go to my locker and get all my stuff before we leave."

He nods. "Okay, I'll come with you."

As we were heading out of the office, I turn to the nurse and beam at her. "Thank you so much for everything."

She smiles and mouths no problem. I wave at her before heading out of the room with Jungkook.

We start walking to my locker, him talking about what I missed out today. I just hum and nod, still upset with the fact that he's forcing me out looking like this.

I grab my things out of my locker, shoving them in my backpack. I swing it over my shoulders and mutter, "Let's go."

We walk to the ice cream parlor. He starts small conversations, mostly about him bragging about how some girl threw himself on him when he was walking to the bathroom.

"It was crazy," he exaggerates. "I was already in the bathroom, getting ready to take a dump when some girl literally throws herself on me and sends us tumbling down."