Orange Deficiency〆Jeon Jungkook

⋆twenty

commemorate remember, observe ocassion, keep.

Sora

I stared at the ceiling with utter interest. It was completely blank, empty and I could paint any picture I wished on it. I'd never been so interested in a ceiling or wall before I must say.

I felt a bit groggy that day, but I was unsure if that was caused by the alcohol or my extreme lack of sleep. Yet something told me I knew the answer to my question very well. I glanced over my bedroom, trying to think of something a bit more interesting to look at as I soon got bored with the bare ceiling wall.

I stood up, tenderly picking my body up from my bed and flinching at the sudden coldness of the tiled floor against my bare feet. I walked over to the large wooden chair placed infront of my window, the curtains moving lightly with the breeze.

The weather that day was dim, the clouds seeming to hold all the darkness of the world within them. Maybe we would be expecting a storm in the next few days. It felt; comforting.

I picked up the little mirror from the table next to me, taking a look at my face through the stained glass. I had dark under eye circles, being sleep deprived for what was the past two nights. I went to touch my eyes, feeling as if they would fall in some sort of dent, but it was just skin.

I stood up again, but as I took a step forward my foot hit against something hard. I looked down to see a black box, one I recodnized very well. Reaching down, I softly carried the small box over to my bed where I just stared at it for a second, contemplating whether I wanted to open it or not. But I couldn't hold back.

I shut my eyes sharply, knowing that everything would come flouding back and unsure about whether I could handle it.

I slid the lid off softly, opening my eyes that were revealed to an assembly of pictures all mixed up inside the bottom of the box. Right at the top there was a picture of Jungkook and I, the only picture of Jungkook and I that existed. We looked all happy and smiley, and suddenly Jungkook seemed so far away. I missed him, and that sucked because something told me that he didn't miss me back and I couldn't afford to be trapped again, to miss him, to miss anyone.

You don’t miss him. I thought.

I set the picture aside and rummaged through the others inside the box, glancing over them one by one as memories set alive. From friends to family, it was nice to remember...well, most of it.

Thinking it was empty I went to place everything back into the box again, only to hold back when I found a last picture sitting inside, upside down. I picked it up hesitantly, as if I knew I didn't want to see it, but when I did my eyes turned into globes and my heart threatened to escape my ribcage.

I swore I had burnt every single one of these pictures.

The memories haunted me, they never left, and looking at the picture it seemed perfectly normal. We came off as happy, as if everything was alright. Until it wasn't. I was cheated on, played with, lied to, broken. Broken into shards that were still sharp.

I loathed him, I did. He was the only reason I changed, the only reason I wouldn't dare trust anyone ever again. Especially with my heart.

I stood up abruptly, wiping the tears off my face and ripping the picture into little pieces violently, landing it in the trash where it belonged.

I glanced at my bed. Jungkook.

Acting out of complete impulse I pulled my jacket off of the chair and ran out to my car, suddenly driven. I guided the vehicle through the streets, getting out infront of a familiar building and basically jogging up the stairs before I could take a breath. I knocked on the large white door and heard some rummaging behind it before it opened to reveal a messy-haired Taehyung. One that seemed a bit cranky, his fatigue showing.

“Oh, hi Sora” He said bitterly, acting excited. He could atleast pretend I was welcome here.

Something fell from behind the couch.

Jungkook?.

I peeked behind him, unable to see anything. “Is he here? Is he okay?”.

Taehyung sighed loudly. “I can't let you in Sora, I'm sorry”.

“But-” I stuttered. “I need to see him”.

Taehyung was impassive.

“Please!”.

“I'm sorry he doesn't-”.

I cut him off –I didn't care what he had to say anyway– and barged in.
I needed to see him.

He was right there, and he looked just fine.

I collapsed against him, so happy to finally feel him, to see him, and I knew he was too. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist as he reciprocated the hug; it was so warm. Soon, they loosened, and Jungkook softly moved away from me.

“Jungkook I'm-” I said, but he didn't look me in the eye. Instead, he frowned.

“You have to leave” He whispered.

“But I-”.

“Please Sora” He begged. His eyes were pained, sad, yet sweet. I wanted to sit there and pamper him, tell him everything was okay. Believe myself that everything was okay.

My heart sunk.

I looked into his eyes for a second, searching for any feeling that told me not to leave, but he was serious.

I grabbed my bag from the floor, stumbling as I walked out of the apartment, but not before shooting him a last glance.

It was like a spear to the heart, and I had promised myself to never feel that way again.

_____

Hey buns,

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