"If you don't come up with a solution by then, I will administer the new medicine myself. You have two months at your disposal."
Those were the exact words Mingyu had delivered to you twenty days ago, a lingering reminder of the weighty ultimatum. As you stood in the sterile hospital room environment, the atmosphere was thick with tension. You meticulously prepared the injection, each deliberate and slow movement, ensuring everything was in order. Just as you were about to finish drawing up the dose, your gaze locked with Jungkook's. His wide eyes reflected a cocktail of emotions—fear, uncertainty, and perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.
He lay there, restrained yet watchful, and as you approached, it was critical to ensure he remained calm. Before he could be transferred back to the confines of prison, you needed to inject him with an antidepressant, a necessary measure to reduce any risk of unpredictable behavior.
Yet, when the moment arrived, Jungkook's breath quickened a subtle but noticeable change that caught your attention. His confidence, often evident when he played the role of the charming playboy, seemed to evaporate as he took in the syringe glistening in your hand. You couldn't help but notice the irony; he knew that you didn't particularly like him, and now that knowledge appeared to tighten his chest with anxiety.
There was a visible tremor in his arm, betraying the bravado he usually exuded. At that moment, he understood the gravity of the situation—the power you held over him and the fear that perhaps, just perhaps, you held the authority to make him vanish from existence, leaving behind nothing more than a whisper of what could have been.
But the truth hung in the air like an uninvited guest; he wasn't real—not in the way that mattered. It was a whispering truth that both haunted and fascinated you, a reminder that beneath the bravado was a fragile human being scared of his fading reality.
He thought that way because he was utterly oblivious to the depth of your true feelings. It was as if a thick fog lay between your hearts, making it nearly impossible for him to grasp the complexities of your mind.
Indeed, you felt a strong aversion towards him. The disgust welled up within you repeatedly as you watched him engage in his reckless antics, carelessly toying with the emotions of those around him. The way he snapped back at you in defiance, as if your thoughts and feelings didn't matter, only fueled your frustration. And yet, despite this tumultuous mix of emotions, a part of you couldn't help but be drawn in by that fleeting tenderness he sometimes revealed. The sweetness of his kiss lingered in your memory, a stark contrast to the rest of his behavior.
There were moments when his touch was surprisingly gentle and considerate, breaking through the facade he usually wore like armor. In those instances, you felt a warmth that seemed genuine, a tenderness that made your heart flutter despite all the reasons to keep your distance. But even if those instances were merely a performance, their impact on you was undeniable; they left imprints on your heart that were impossible to erase.
Meanwhile, Jungkook found himself frozen in place, his breath hitching in his throat the instant he felt the cold prick of the needle against his neck. His body seized, trembling uncontrollably as he fought back tears that threatened to spill, desperate to keep any trace of vulnerability hidden from you. Not again, he murmured silently to himself, consumed by a tumult of emotion. He couldn't trust you anymore—he had learned that lesson the hard way. The memory of the last time he showed his true self, how he had broken down and wept in front of you, haunted him like a ghost. The shame of begging for salvation, a stark reminder of his fragility, made him recoil in internal conflict.
It filled him with a deep regret that he had made a grave mistake. The conviction that you were just like everyone else pressed down on him like a heavy stone, crushing any glimmer of hope he had left.
Once again, he found himself powerless and trapped at the mercy of another. His fists were clenched tight, a futile attempt to channel his frustration and anger, but the fury only intensified the ache in his chest. He despised the feeling of being held against his will and loathed how it stripped him of his autonomy. The pain in his heart grew sharp and nagging as he tried desperately to fend you off, to prevent you from inflicting more anguish upon him.
"Why can't they just stop? Why can't it end?" he thought, a silent plea echoing. "Please, just stop doing this to me. Why is it always me?"
But you saw him. You met his frantic gaze, and it pierced through you. His eyes were wide with fear, shimmering with the unshed tears of someone on the brink of despair. You swallowed hard, the gravity of the moment weighing heavy on your shoulders, and you set the syringe far from his line of sight as if it were a snake poised to strike.
"It's just the usual drug," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You were trying desperately to reach him, to calm the storm swirling in his heart. "I won't give you anything else, I promise." You reached out to reassure him, your hand hovering in the air, a fragile gesture to ease his escalating panic. "I won't hurt you, remember? I told you that before."
Jungkook's eyes widened further as he continued to stare back at you, his heart racing uncontrollably, pounding almost violently against the confines of his chest. The instinct to flee surged within him, a primal urge pushing him to escape. Trust was a luxury he could no longer afford, not with the memories of pain still fresh and raw.
Again… the cycle was repeating. He felt the familiar grip of hopelessness tightening around him. Despair flooded his senses like a dark tide, dragging him under. In that space, filled with faceless people, he felt profoundly alone, isolated in his suffering. It was as if he were screaming in silence, begging for someone to hear him, yet no one could truly grasp the depths of his loneliness.
Once more, he felt the desperate urge to plead with you, to lay bare his heart and swear his loyalty. To promise that his love would belong solely to you if only you would allow him a shred of safety, a flicker of hope in a world that felt so hostile and unwelcoming.
You gently placed your hand on Jungkook's head, feeling the warmth of his hair beneath your palm. His body trembled slightly as he remained silent, your words failing to reach him. "It's okay. Shhhhhh. It's alright," you murmured soothingly, cradling him in your arms. You felt the tension in his muscles and hoped to ease his discomfort. "Maybe you can be a jerk sometimes. Maybe it feels like I hate you, but I would never hurt you. Please understand that. I've never once broken a promise to you."
He remained quiet, but to your surprise, you noticed his body slowly stop shaking, even as the rapid beat of his heart was palpable against your chest. You searched his face for some sign of understanding or relief, but Jungkook turned his face away, avoiding eye contact. The sight of tears glistening in his eyes made your heartache and sent a tremor through your chest.
"Please, talk to me," you urged softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I genuinely want to help you. I need to understand you better. You're such a mystery to me. Your behavior confuses me deeply. You once told me you acted like a jerk because everyone expects it. What do you mean by that? Is this all just an act? The person you are showing to the world, is that you?"
With a hint of sarcasm, Jungkook finally responded, though he still wouldn't meet your gaze. "You're the one studying psychology. Figure it out for yourself. You should be capable of doing that." His mocking tone stung, but you could feel the vulnerability beneath his bravado, and it only further fueled your desire to reach him.
"Damn you," you breathed out, frustration boiling inside you. The urge to physically confront him was strong, radiating from your core. "Why are you like this? Why do you keep making me feel so utterly useless?"
As your emotions surged, you closed your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. With a determined grip, you cupped his cheeks, drawing his face closer to yours until your foreheads touched. The warmth between you was tangible, a delicate bridge of connection amidst the chaos. "Let me help you. Just trust me a little. I promise I won't disappoint you."
His heartbeat echoed in your ears, amplifying with every second. One heartbeat. Two. Three. In that moment, you could feel an inexplicable sync between your heart and his, a rhythm that seemed to bridge the gap of isolation you both felt.
How could a monster like you cry so easily? you thought, bewildered by the tears glistening in his eyes.
How could a monster like you be so warm?
How can you smell like chocolate all the time?
How can you make me lose my head in such a way?
Jungkook closed his eyes slowly, feeling the weight of the world temporarily lift off his shoulders. He attempted to focus on his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in an effort to calm his racing heart. Thoughts buzzed in his mind like bees, but they all faded into the background, suffocated by the intoxicating aroma that enveloped him. Your fragrance swirled around him, a heady blend that was both foreign and familiar, grounding him in a moment that felt almost surreal.
Nestled in your arms, he experienced a sensation he had never known before—a profound sense of belonging that resonated deep within him. It was a warmth that spread through his chest, igniting a feeling of safety and acceptance he had searched for all his life. Despite the chaos swirling around them, with you by his side, he felt an unwavering serenity settle in his bones. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring him to this exact moment, and he never wanted to break free from its hold.
Then something shifted abruptly. A palpable energy surged through him, and he felt as if he were losing grip on his own autonomy. In that instant, the other Jungkook, the one that lay dormant within, stirred awake. It felt as though a veil had been lifted, and he was no longer just a passive observer of his own body but an active participant in the overwhelming emotions that flooded through him.