wallflower | taekook

three.

"To burn with desire
and keep quiet about it is the
greatest punishment we can
bring on ourselves."
— Frederico Garcia Lorca

Jungkook POV

What normally took a few minutes has turned into an entire evening of unnecessary stress and various clothes tossed around the room. The wood floors of my bedroom were soon covered in t-shirts and jeans as I struggled to find a specific pair buried somewhere in the depths of my closet.

I really doesn't matter what you wear Jungkook. I've been telling myself that for the past hour, but my hands never stopped fumbling through the fabrics.

There was an obvious reason as to why I wanted to find the right outfit, but I forced myself not to acknowledge that truth and shoved it to the back of my mind with my other problems. It simply became one with the buzzing that always hung there.

It sounded awfully familiar to my phone as it buzzed away on top of my bed, vibrating with each incoming text that I rolled my eyes at, suddenly regretting that I gave him my number. Taehyung wasn't going to leave me alone unless I did, and I just wanted to go home to the leftover takeout waiting for me in my refrigerator.

The natural light changing in my room as it cast itself through my curtains told me it was getting later. The sun was setting and Jimin would be expecting me soon and I didn't feel like being late and listening to him whine.

I gave up on searching and threw on what I wore last time I went out by myself. No one would remember, no one remembers anything.

It was a dark maroon silk shirt, smooth against my bare chest as I slipped it on easily, leaving the first three buttons undone. When I pulled on the black skinny jeans I couldn't help but think back to what Taehyung said earlier.
Thick thighs. That was enough to make me almost change into a pair of sweatpants and not go at all. I don't think I could handle seeing him again, surrounded by alcohol and music just waiting to hear what words would leave those lips so smoothly. His voice was deep and enticing, smooth like the silk fabric draped over my torso.

My fingertips trailed down my bare chest exposed from the undone buttons, skin warm against the pads of my fingers as he enveloped my mind. Any other thought eliminated in seconds as he simply took over, darker ones invading consisting of those shining eyes and golden skin.

Suddenly, I grimaced. "What the fuck."
I was sick, letting those things slip into my head about Taehyung, about a stranger.

It may have been my urge to vomit, but I walked to the bathroom connected to my bedroom and leaned against the sink. The only friend that speaks the truth and never leaves sat there on the wall. Shiny and smooth, destroyed with my reflection invading the glass that it was. I couldn't stand the site any longer, pulling open the mirror to see the rows of clear orange arranged alphabetically.

I didn't have a glass of water, but I didn't need it any more, the dry pain in my throat after swallowing them down was comforting almost.

"For fucks sake." I mumbled hearing my phone continuing to go off. This may be the quickest I've ever blocked someone's number.

It ended up being Jimin. A bunch of missed calls and texts followed by seemingly endless exclamation points. I must have stared at the sink a lot longer than I thought, it was well past 9 pm and we were suppose to meet up twenty minutes ago. Before I walked out of my room I spotted one of my chokers sitting on my dresser, it was black and thin, almost tight around my neck as I fastened it on and checked myself once more in the full length mirror behind the door.