Falling for college's hearthrob Hoseok, you decide to write him a love letter. However, the plan goes wrong when the letter falls in the hands of Jeon Jungkook.
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Jungkook died.
I fell for him hard and fast, but the amount of time we spent together was nothing compared to those times I wished he was with me. Yet, the last few months happened to be the best of my life. Jungkook made our love feel unique, special, and unbreakable.
All the butterflies just died. Heart smashed into pieces.
Memories of him came as a blur. I couldn't remember the taste of his kisses, nor the feeling of comfort that his arms around my body brought me.
Why did he have to leave so soon?
The funeral occurred two days ago. I met his parents, his coworkers, and some family members I never heard about. People who knew him well, but probably not as much as I did.
Three months meant nothing in their eyes, but to us, it meant a lifetime. Jungkook and I have been in love for years without being aware of it. He owned my heart, and I owned his.
My life had no meaning anymore. My sole purpose was to miss him on a daily basis, bear the grieving process which would probably last for years. We were about to get freaking married, for God's sake!
We would never have those late-night conversations again.
I'd never get to see his gorgeous, cocky, and goofy smile again.
The strong scent of his cologne won't fill my nostrils again.
His sweet, tender touch wouldn't bring me comfort nor peace again.
I'd never get to lay my hands on his bare chest, caress his skin, and feel him shiver under my touch.
So many things I will never get to do again, yet I had to bear with it.
Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin were in great pain, but I couldn't help. I wasn't ready to move nor forget.
I would never.
My heart, my soul, and my body belonged to Jungkook only.
I fell for him so fast. We shared a magical love, a unique one. I loved him beyond words, and I'd never stop. His voice, his touch, his smile, his laugh, his jokes; I'd give anything to feel and see them again.
I'd be spending the rest of my life thinking of him, missing him.
"Babe... Don't cry," his voice sent shivers down my spine.
I looked up and met his dark brown eyes, those I loved like nothing else. My mind was playing tricks on me. I knew he wasn't really there, but I wanted it to be true. Lips quivering, I spoke.
"I'm so sorry!"
He was standing in front of me, but I couldn't touch him nor curl up in his arms. He was the product of my imagination, and I would have to live with that for the rest of my days.
