SNS || jeon jungkook ✓

41. liar

41.

The small restaurant's air conditioning is like ice to my suddenly flaming hot skin. Am I mad? Slightly. I have a mixed range of emotions as Jungkook is practically pulling me along with him.

I feel like a fool. I can't quite understand right now why he felt this was a good idea, or a better idea than other ones— you know, to conveniently forget to tell me that They planned for us to be out and about today. How does one just leave that out?

The expanse of his hand is not as usually comforting around mine at this moment. I almost feel trapped, both fundamentally by a piece of paper and physically by his empowering hand. My heart is racing, and my knees feel weak.

I feel— betrayed?

I continue to let him lead me towards a table because there are too many eyes on us. The people sitting and enjoying their food are unusually quiet and it is making me feel even more uneasy.

The hostess' smile isn't even enough to earn an awkward smile from me in return. My mind is too focused on his hand, the temperature in the room and the employee who has taken a seat at the table nearby.

Time is moving in slow motion when we arrive at the small table towards the back of the restaurant. Conveniently so, the window is in clear view from our setting. I almost don't notice when Jungkook takes the bait and sits with his body facing towards the public outside. Relief washes over me that at least my facial expressions can be hidden.

"I'm not hungry," I say.

My eyes are dancing over the choices on the menu but my stomach is in knots. I don't dare to look up at Jungkook. I know that if I do, I will either cry or start getting angry at him.

I'm conflicted. Usually in a circumstance like this I would give him the benefit of the doubt— Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he had no choice. But— no. He did know and he could've just told me. It's not like I didn't want to go out with him.

"Noon—"

"Don't," I interrupt him.

My chest feels heavy. I can't leave. Legally, theoretically, hypothetically and in actuality— I have to stay here and eat with him no matter how I'm feeling about the situation. I guess this is what my father was implying when he mentioned they would he controlling my life.

And not to mention this is only the first time it's happening and yet it is already a mess.

Will I cry? No. I thought I decided I wasn't a prissy princess anymore, right?

I gather up the last of my strength and look at him. His eyes round and his expression softens but I can tell he is nervous. His teeth are nibbling on the inside of his lip and he is pinching the back of his palm harshly. His eyes are watching me intently.

"This isn't okay," I say calmly.

"I-I didn't know."

"Why are you lying?" I grit.

We are whispering. I feel claustrophobic even though the next table of people is not for another few feet. It's as though all my thoughts and feelings are constricting my throat.