[editing]
❝ I fucked you good then. Didn't I? ❞
Love is a funny word with so many interpretations of its definition. Famous professional writer Park Jimin believed love to be a warm feeling felt within his heart if he was in the arms of someone he t...
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
There was an agonizing silence, fain exhales hovered above the air but neither male attempted to speak. In one corner of the couch, the writer was curled up in a ball keeping his distance from the raven-haired male who sat at the other end of the couch facing the older with a blank expression; he was staring at him lost in space, waiting to gather his words.
"Talk."
Jimin finally broke the silence wanting to end the stoic emotions that crawled upon his skin whenever he gazed into the dark chocolate eyes of the actor. Were his feelings ephemeral? He began to wonder if Jungkook's feelings were not meant to last. Chasing the truth was difficult for him in that situation, so he listened; what he needed to do to calm his disturbed heart, mind and body.
"My phone is dead," Jungkook spoke in a rather low tone. His right hand searched through his pockets for his silver iPhone XR that was almost in crumbles. When he fished it out, he placed it on the couch so the writer could see it. Then, he waited for a reaction. The whole phone was cracked, it wouldn't turn on, there were even missing shards from the screen. "After we arrived in Tokyo, my clumsy ass of manager accidentally tripped and because I lend him my phone for a call, it flew out of his hands into the road and a delivery man on a bike ran over it."
Jimin stared at the phone with a blank expression. A little empathy glistened in his pupils but he still kept silent. He thought Jungkook could've bought another one. "The SIM card was also damaged. I lost my phone number, my contacts, everything. I forgot your phone number so I couldn't text you," the raven-haired actor continued to make the writer's cheeks fill with pink, angered by the answers—or excuses—of the other male.
"iCloud. There's something called an iCloud account. Don't you have one? Jungkook, I-I..." Jimin was already stuttering and sighing to the excuses sent his way.
He was already closed up to the idea of forgiving the male because even if he had given the other a chance to explain, his heart was slowly breaking. He would've forgiven him if Jungkook had explained the reasons for the call but there was just the big hurt in Jimin's eyes when he had noticed the red hickey in Jungkook's neck, during the script reading previously in the morning.
"Hyung."
There it was. Jungkook's voice almost held back a whine. His calling out to the writer with the honorific 'hyung' was a way of telling him how he meant it.
"Don't you 'hyung' me! I don't even know anymore, Jungkook! Do you know how that made me feel? I felt completely used this past week. And now, you want to come with the excuse that you forgot my phone number? You're an actor for God's sake. You memorize a whole script in two days, or even one." Jimin's eyes glistened and he got up from the couch. Emotions were getting the best of him. He grabbed the cushion beside him and aimed it at the raven-haired male.
