Jeon Jungkook

It had been a month since you and Jungkook broke up.

A month since three years of your life had been intertwined with his. Three years of waking up to his messages, knowing his routines, knowing exactly what would make him laugh, and having someone you could call whenever something went wrong.

Now, you were supposed to act like none of that had ever existed.

You'd told yourself you were getting better. You stopped texting him first. You stopped checking whether he was online. You stopped opening your old photos whenever you missed him badly enough.

At least, you tried to.

Tonight, you'd gone out with your friends hoping to get your mind off everything. You laughed, talked, and drank more than you probably should have, convincing yourself that you were finally starting to move on.

But the alcohol had a way of making it harder to lie to yourself.

Somewhere between the music and the noise around you, you started thinking about him again.

You wondered what he was doing. Whether he was awake. Whether he missed you too, or if he'd already gotten used to your absence.

Your eyes drifted toward your phone.

His contact was still there.

Jungkook.

You hadn't deleted his number. You'd told yourself it was because there was no reason to, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the real reason.

Your thumb hovered over his name.

You knew you shouldn't.

You'd spent the entire month trying to create distance between you, and texting him now would undo all of it. Tomorrow morning, you'd probably wake up embarrassed, wishing you could take it back.

But right now, you were tired of pretending you didn't miss him.

And when you were drunk, scared, or needed someone you trusted, there was still only one person your mind instinctively went to.

Jungkook.

You opened your messages with him, staring at your last conversation. It was painfully short compared to the years of messages above it.

Your fingers slowly moved across the keyboard.

are you awake?

You stared at it.

For a moment, you considered deleting it.

Instead, you sent it.

The message showed as delivered.

Your heart started beating a little faster.

You didn't even know what you expected him to say. Maybe he'd ignore you. Maybe he'd ask why you were texting him after everything. Maybe he'd remind you that you weren't together anymore.

But before you could overthink it, you typed another message.

can you come pick me up?

You hesitated for a few seconds before finally sending it.

And suddenly, you were staring at your screen, waiting for the person you were supposed to be forgetting.