BITTER SWEET. | J. JK

SEVENTY-SEVEN.

09:02 pm

There were plenty variations of answers to her questions, the sugarcoated version, the uncensored one, the version he wished was the truth, the lie and, unavoidably, the truth. He knew which one she wanted but, selfishness still wondered if it was the one she needed. The patience look in her dulled down brown eyes were yet hard to confront.

"Have you find...him yet?" Jungkook's eyes rose at her first question, astounded, as he was expecting a 'why' or a 'how'. But, taking in consideration Y/N's historic, he supposed it was only natural if she asked for her family first. She tucked pretty strands of her hair behind her ear, nervousness also infecting her.

Was it relief? Was it remorse?

"Yes." The black of his eyes dripping down her brown ones, wanting to observe how she'd react, the calm tinging away for breathing moments at his answer, almost as if she was surprised by his answer. "I know... where David is."

Nibbling softly the corner of her lip, she nodded silently, eyes drifting towards the dark windows that portrayed the night falling upon the Busan sea. It would had been a lie if she hadn't a question bubbling inside her, excited to flow out but Y/N bit the tip of her tongue, not allowing it.

Jungkook, on the other hand, could see through her like water and, as he felt the dryness of his throat, brought the glass of wine, burgundy staining the edges of his lips, he spoke again. "He's alive, Y/N." The wide eye she had thrown him at his words confirmed exactly that he was right about what she was thinking.

His fingertips still brushed against her hand, thumb grazing softly through the back of her palm, trying to calm her down. The brunette felt the warmth of his hand, content with the fact that his hands remained warm against hers, her eyes lowered down, following the fuzzing action, a shy curve almost formed in the ends of her mouth.

But, the more she stared at their hands, fingers interlacing loosely, the more blood started to flash through her eyes, his blood, his gunshot, how he fell into her arms, his pain filled screams in the backseat of Yoongi's car, blood, blood, guns, screams, the gun pointed at his head, her father's twisted smile, his screams, his body collapsing on the floor, gunshots, screams, blood, blood, blood—

In an instinct filled with panic, Y/N retrieved her hand from his grip roughly, placing it instead on top of her mouth, covering it, to hide the sound of her sudden sob. Tears managed to prickle her eyes, gliding down her cheeks. Jungkook was just as shocked when she sank her face on her palms, tear drops escaping through her fingers nonetheless. Just as fast, he got up from his seat, running towards her.

"Hey, hey, baby" His eyebrows furrowed together, worry painting his features, as he squatting down before her, fingers curling around her forearms, gently, his voice soothing to the ear. Y/N's shoulders shook unevenly, and more anxiety settled in when she realized Jungkook was there, right in front of her pitiful crying. She hated crying in public. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached his hand, to move away her own from her face but she didn't budge at all. Preferring to keep the veil on. His heart dropping to a pit, worry devouring him from inside out and the self-declining of himself whispering to his ear as it was all his fault. But, wasn't it?

"H-he shouldn't..." Her voice breaking mildly, between strangled sobs and trembling hands but now, trying to ease her breathing, shaking her head side to side. Jungkook was confused, rubbing thumbs calming but not daring to step too close, not wanting to overwhelm her even more. He asked her to repeat, the first words tumbling between the creaks of her fingers. "He s-shouldn't be alive."

It made sense now.

Frailly, Jungkook pulled her up to stand up, her curved form was deteriorating and his legs had shaken at the time he had stayed there in the same position. Wanting nothing more than keeping her crying face hidden, Y/N dived into his chest, fingers tugging tightly at the fabric of his shirt as if in a breathing moment, he would slip away. His arms wrapping around her back as tightly, left hand travelling up to brush through the rebel curls of her hair softly, lips resting on the crown of her head.