The following days felt like a dream I wasn't ready to wake up from. I had become accustomed to waking up next to Jungkook, eating meals together, and just existing in the same spaces. But with every passing moment, the more I spent time with him, the more my feelings for him became... complicated.
The small things were the hardest to ignore—the way his laughter made my heart race, the way his gaze lingered on me a little too long, the way he made me feel seen, understood. It was everything I never realized I wanted, and yet, I was terrified of it. Terrified of wanting something so badly when I had so little time left.
But the worst part? He seemed to be just as drawn to me as I was to him. There were moments, fleeting yet undeniable, when I caught him looking at me with a soft intensity, like there was something more between us, something neither of us dared to acknowledge. We were friends, right? Only friends.
And yet, every time his hand brushed against mine, or when our eyes locked in the middle of a conversation, the line between friendship and something more began to blur. It was confusing, and the last thing I needed was confusion. I didn't have time for it.
It was a Friday evening when it all came to a head. The usual buzz of the city felt distant as we made our way to a rooftop bar in Seoul. Jungkook had invited me, as he always did when he wanted to get away from everything. His motorcycle purred under me as we weaved through the late-night traffic, his body just inches from mine, his hand occasionally brushing mine as we rode side by side.
When we arrived, the city lights stretched out before us, casting a soft glow over the skyline. We found a small corner at the edge of the rooftop and ordered drinks, the cool breeze carrying the scent of freshly lit cigarettes and the faint hum of music from nearby clubs.
I sat across from Jungkook, and the conversation flowed easily at first—about the city, the food, the things we wanted to try. But as the night wore on, the words began to feel more loaded, as if there were things we weren't saying. I couldn't help but notice how his gaze never fully left mine, how his fingers twitched as if wanting to reach out and touch me.
"So, what's next for you?" he asked, his voice soft, almost contemplative. "After all of this. After... well, after everything."
The question hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been so caught up in the present, so lost in the moment, that I hadn't stopped to think about the future. There was no future for me. I didn't know how to explain that to him, especially not with the way his eyes were looking at me now—like he was seeing me in a way no one else had.
"I don't know," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm just... living, you know? Doing whatever I can with the time I have left."
The words were raw, slipping out before I could stop them. The weight of the truth settled heavily between us, and for a moment, I thought I saw his eyes flicker with something unreadable. Something almost... painful.
"I know that's easier said than done," he said quietly, his fingers drumming on the table. "But you deserve to enjoy every second of it. Every second."
There was a tenderness in his voice that caught me off guard, a tenderness I hadn't allowed myself to notice before. It made my chest ache, a slow burn that spread from my heart to my fingertips.
"I'm trying," I whispered, almost to myself.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he took a long sip from his drink. His fingers brushed against the rim of his glass, his movements slow and deliberate. There was a quiet understanding in his eyes, as though he knew more than I was willing to admit, but he didn't push. He never did.
A silence fell over us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was familiar. Safe.
It was then that Taehyung showed up. As always, his entrance was anything but subtle. He practically stormed onto the rooftop, his energy immediately shifting the atmosphere. He waved enthusiastically when he spotted us, and I couldn't help but smile at his infectious energy.
"You two always look so serious!" Taehyung teased, sliding into the seat next to me. "Where's the fun in that?"
I laughed, trying to shake off the tension that had built up between Jungkook and me. "We're just... having a drink," I said with a shrug.
"Having a drink, huh? Well, you're not going to have a drink without me!" He grinned, signaling the waiter for a drink of his own.
Jungkook remained unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on his glass as if he were deep in thought. I noticed the way his jaw clenched when Taehyung leaned in too close to me, how his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. But Taehyung was oblivious, lost in his usual playful banter, as he often was.
"Come on, Jungkook! Why are you so quiet tonight?" Taehyung continued, nudging him playfully. "Is it because of Y/N?" He shot me a wink, clearly teasing, but there was an edge to it that made me uncomfortable.
Jungkook didn't respond immediately. He took a deep breath, finally looking up at us with a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nothing to worry about," he muttered.
But I saw it. The way his hand clenched around his glass, the subtle tension in his posture. Something was off.
As Taehyung launched into another story, I found myself looking between the two of them. Jungkook's smile was still there, but it didn't feel as genuine as it once did. And the way Taehyung was acting so carefree, so close to me—it was clear he didn't see the underlying tension. But I did.
I wasn't sure how to handle it. Was it just me, or was Jungkook... jealous?
I glanced back at him, wondering if he would say something, anything, to acknowledge the shift between us. But he didn't. Instead, he just stared into his glass, lost in whatever thoughts were swirling around in his head.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur, with laughter and stories and drinks, but the weight of what was unsaid hung heavily in the air. And as the night wound down, I couldn't help but wonder—what was I to Jungkook, really? And more importantly... what was he to me?