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daebakinc · 7 years

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Mercy - Pt. 3

Please have mercy on me. Take it easy on my heart. Even though you don’t mean to hurt me, you keep tearing me apart.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC Genre: College AU, angst, romance, Summary: After a homework mix-up, you agree to tutor Jungkook in math in exchange for him tutoring you in dance. In more ways than one, you get much more than you bargained for. Previous Parts: 1, 2

Jungkook is too good a friend to drop you faster than a hot potato just because there’s a girl in his life. He still meets you in the studio every night, still devotes an hour to helping you improve the latest floor routine. He still settles close beside you to go over the day’s lecture and practice problems.

However, Jungkook is human and a male college student. Spending most of his time with his new girlfriend can’t be resisted.

The minute the hour is up or the last equation is solved, he’s packing up and running out the door with a wave. He doesn’t come keep you company at work when he’s free. He doesn’t show up at your door on late weekend mornings to drag you to brunch. He doesn’t barge into your room to claim your bed for an afternoon nap.

The sudden return of quiet to your life finds itself astonishingly unwelcome. It gives you too much time to regret not revealing your feelings sooner, to wonder what it’d be like now if you had. In your lowest moments, you find yourself bitterly thinking the only reason Jungkook hasn’t dropped you entirely is because he can’t afford to with finals coming up in less than three weeks.

The instant you have that thought, you’re crushed with guilt. You know Jungkook isn’t that type of person to use you like that. You know you should be happy for him. You want to be happy for him because he’s happy. Knowing and being are different things though.

You want Jungkook all to yourself again. Greedy and unreasonable, you know, but that’s the truth. You miss him. You miss what you had together.

You have no problem with the girl herself. Jungkook brought her to your work on a casual date a few days after she asked him out. Isa, as she insisted being called, is pleasant and polite, not to mention classic ballerina beautiful. You said as much when Jungkook came back to ask you your opinion about her under the guise of getting napkins, eyes eagerly anticipating your approval.

Between customers, you caught yourself looking over at their table. They did make a striking couple, both gracefully tall, his breadth balancing her slenderness. She made him laugh and smile the entire time. The stunned, adoring infatuation in his gaze spoke more clearly of his feelings than he would ever say. Even though the most affection they showed was holding hands, you were incredibly relieved when they left. Particularly when you overheard them making plans for the winter dance.

Long before Jungkook, you resolved not to go. Getting dolled up, though work, is appealing, but you can do that any day you chose. You have other reasons. You spent too many high school dances shyly decorating the gym walls while your friends with dates swayed back and forth with their dates. At the end of each, the custodians swept up your abandoned wish that someone would ask you to dance with the confetti and popped balloons. If you want to dance, you’ll do it in your pajamas in the privacy of your own room without disappointment, thank you very much. No one is going to convince you otherwise.

The night of the dance, you hide. You lock your door, turn off your lights, and put your phone on silent. Maybe it’s a cowardly thing to do, but you don’t really care. Most of your friends respect your choice not to go to the dance, but you know there will be some well-meaning souls who will try to drag you there. You’d rather not fend off their machinations. You’re just not in the mood to do it nicely.

As predicted, some friends knock on your door and call your name. You stop typing and hold your breath until they walk away, saying something about you probably being holed up in the library. To foster that misconception, you ignore all attempts to call or text you. You’re feeling quite pleased with your own cleverness in avoidance when someone you aren’t expecting knocks on the door.

Jungkook’s voice calling your name carries through the thin wood. “Are you still in here? You’re not answering your phone. I need help-”

A suit never looked so good when you open the door. The glossy black fabric clings to his shoulders, his arms, his thighs. Power cloaked in class. His throat gleams healthy gold against the starchy white shirt revealed by his unbuttoned jacket. Three buttons on the shirt are undone, exposing the firm chest you’ve laid against so often.

That reminder stabs your bleeding heart cruelly, but you keep your smile and flick on the lights.

Jungkook gives you a grateful smile as he hustles past you. “Thank goodness you’re here. I can’t get this dumb tie to sit right and none of guys know how to do it.”

When he turns to you, holding out the offending strip of fabric, his adorable confused frown takes over his face as he takes in your ragged shorts, messy bun slapped on top of your head like Pebbles, and worn to fuzziness hoodie you stole from him at some point. Yes, you are that much of a masochist.

“Why aren’t you dressed? The dance is in thirty minutes. Don’t girls take ages to get ready? Even you should take longer than that.”

“Jungkook, that is a sexist generalization.” You close the door and cross your arms. “I’ve seen some men take longer on their hair in the morning than I do in a week. And I’m not going to the dance.”

“But everyone is.”

In a tone of voice you’re sure your mother would approve of, you retort, “And if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you?”

Nevertheless, you grab the bowtie from him and stand on tip-toe to toss it around his neck. Jungkook spreads his legs to make it easier for you. With his eyes level with yours, you can see the wheels turning.

“Is it because you don’t have a date?” he asks. “I think I have a few friends going stag who wouldn’t mind taking you.”

You cut off whatever else he’s about to utter by pulling the bowtie tight. Shame rises bitterly in your throat. You can handle a lot of things, but not him feeling sorry for you, as if you’re some poor penniless spinster to throw breadcrumbs to. Glaring, you say, “I do not need a pity date, Jungkook. If I wanted to, I could get one myself. I’m not going because I don’t want to, alright? Just leave it alone.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

His gaze falls to your shoulder as you finish off the knot. The expression on his face has you kicking yourself for kicking a puppy who just wanted to help.

As you adjust the bow, you tap your finger under his chin. “Hey.”

Jungkook’s eyes flick up to yours, obviously still cautious of being bitten again.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, smiling apologetically. “I’m just stressed with classes and all these end of semester projects. I didn’t mean to get snippy with you.”

The return smile he flashes you shows all is forgiven. “Dancing is supposed to be good stress reliever, you know. Releases endorphins or something.”

“Maybe for dance machines like you or people who like to dance.”

“You like to dance,” he points out hopefully.

“Only sometimes. Right now, I like the idea of getting on the Dean’s List.” Patting his cheek, you step back. You jerk your thumb towards the door. “Go. Have fun and don’t do anything stupid.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’ll be fine. Promise. Go before your girlfriend thinks you got lost.”

The sparkle that jumps to life in his eyes hurts more than you would ever admit even to silence. “Right. Thanks for the help. Study hard, teach.”

Jungkook steps closer, sliding an arm around your waist to pull you in. You can smell the heavy spiciness of his cologne. Closing his eyes, he leans in and for a split second you freeze, your heart screeching to a halt. It drops to your feet like a deadweight when Jungkook’s lips press briefly against your forehead.

You breathe out and then he’s gone. The door clicks behind him with a dull sound. It echoes in your hollow chest, ringing and ringing as you fight back the tears and dreams of what it would be like to go to the dance with Jungkook. They flirt mockingly in front of your eyes like a fairytale. But only princesses waltz into happily ever-afters and you’re no princess.

Another realization harshly smacks you in the face: if you’re not a princess, you can never have the prince. You’ll be locked outside the castle gates, condemned to pine away to nothing like the nymph, Echo.

That is not the ending you want. You realize there’s only one way to save yourself: you have to get over Jungkook. You have to remove him from the depths of your heart and replace him back to the position of a dear friend. Romantic love must return to platonic.

You instinctively know the process will be unlike any pain you’ve felt before. Jungkook is nestled so close, it will be like carving out a part of yourself. But it must done. If you don’t want to lose him entirely, you need to get over him. By any means necessary.

12/15: [Jungkook] Sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye. Thought you were leaving later. Have a good break!

12/25: [Jungkook] Merry Christmas! Did you get that book you really wanted? Kinda hope not because otherwise the present I got you is useless lol.

12/29: [Jungkook] I got an A in Precalc! It’s all thanks to you, teach. Did you check your grades yet? You had to get an B in Intro too with such a great tutor. 😉

¼: [Jungkook] Hey. Did I do something wrong? You haven’t answered me at all this break… Hope you’re okay. I miss you…

Today: [Jungkook] You back on campus? Stopped by earlier but you weren’t in.

“I’ll make it up to you, Kookie,” you sigh, scrolling through the long page of texts from Jungkook, none of which you had replied to.

It was just part of your effort to get over Jungkook during winter vacation. You didn’t cut him out from your life; you simply took a break from him. That meant you ignored his texts and calls. You hid him from your social media feeds. You uploaded your pictures with him to your Cloud so you could delete them from your phone.

People say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you hoped your case worked more like addiction. Remove the temptation and recovery is possible. One test of recuperation’s success is replacing the addictive substance back into the patient’s environment.

However, this method is risky. Sometimes, it leads to relapse. It can make a compulsion worse, and that’s exactly what you’re afraid of. You almost have yourself convinced he’s just a friend again. Almost. There’s still that tiny kernel of doubt in your head that he’s still not, that you’re still in love with him.

Nonetheless, you aren’t a coward. It’s not like you can avoid him forever either. You have to apologize for snubbing him all break. You’ve already practiced the excuse that you forgot your phone here because you were running late to catch your train. Hopefully he’ll buy it.

No one says you can’t put it off for a bit longer though.

Grumbling, you toss your phone onto your desk. It bounces on your coat and hits the small pile of presents there.

Your gaze rests on the flat, rectangular box wrapped in Sunday comics. Amongst the presents for your other friend, Jungkook’s isn’t the biggest, nor the flashiest. Yet it’s the one you felt the happiest buying.

It was one of the few times you’d been in Jungkook’s room that you’d gotten the idea for it. You were bored waiting for him to find the book he needed to return to the library and his open closet begged to be peeked into. When you did, you had to laugh out loud. Dozens of white and black shirts crowded the single rod like a monochromatic aesthetic enthusiast’s dream photo. Thinking back, you couldn’t remember him wearing a spot of color unless it was a jacket, a hat, or shoes.

“Do you think you live in a 1930s noir movie or something?” you teased, flipping through the shirts. You wear more black than is healthy yourself, but at least it’s less than a third of your closet’s contents.

“It keeps things simple and clean and I don’t have to worry about matching” he grumbled in sudden embarrassment, trying to close the closet door. “I do wear colors.”

“Shades of gray don’t count. Blue jeans don’t either.” “Why not?” Jungkook asked, noticeably perplexed. “They’re blue.”

You laugh at his typical boyish attitude. “Jeans don’t count because they’re so common it’s like they don’t have a color.”

Taehyung poked his head into the doorway in that moment. With a wicked grin, he suggested, “Check his underwear drawer. He’s got some interesting color choices in there.”

Cheeks burning, you could only watch as an equally red-faced Jungkook ran after him shouting threats.

A few days later, you bought the found, perfect present. The shirt wasn’t fancy or expensive like silk. It wasn’t cheap like one you get in pack of five from your local discount store. It was a relaxed button-up shirt with sleeves cuffed at the elbows. The material was relaxed with enough stretch Jungkook could dance in it without it restricting his movements.

A blue too deep to be royal but too light to be navy, the tag called the shade ‘Winsor Blue.’ Hopefully, you’d thought, it would be enough of a baby step to slowly introduce some more hues into Jungkook’s wardrobe.

The longer you look at the present, the more you get annoyed with yourself. You’re better than this. You pride yourself on your self-discipline. Once you decide to do something, it is as good as done. Facing Jungkook is something that needs to be done sooner rather than later. You need to know if your pains bore any fruit or if you’re right back where you were at the end of last semester.

Groaning, you push yourself up from the floor. “Just do it, you big chicken.” You grab the present and walk out the door before you can change your mind.

Your heart beats faster the closer you get to Jungkook’s room. Contrastingly, your footsteps slow, your body more in tune with your apprehension. You raise a hand to knock on the door, but it’s as if there’s a chain around your wrist, keeping your fist in the air. You lower your arm. Clutching the present to your chest, you just stare at the door.

Despite all your pep talks, you are unsure your conviction will hold up when you see Jungkook’s face. You don’t know if you’re strong enough to not fall down the rabbit hole again.

“Hi.”

Jumping away from the door, you try to compose yourself when you see it’s only Hoseok. “Hi. Had a good break?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t long enough, but you know.” Hoseok shrugs and laughs. “You?”

“Same.”

As he gets closer, his smile fades into a look of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Glancing at the door again, you realize you are nowhere near ready. “I’m sorry, but could you give this to Jungkook, please? I forgot… something.”

Before Hoseok can answer, you push the present into his arms and hurry away.

Once you round the corner, you sprint for the back emergency stairwell. You don’t want anyone to see your red eyes and trembling lips, friend or no. The door groans and slams behind you with a boom. By some miracle, you don’t trip as you run down the stairs, trying to outrace your own heart.

When you reach your floor, you dig into your pocket for your keycard. Belatedly, you remember you left it in your room. Great.

Now you’ll have to go out of the building and wait for some passing student to have mercy on you and let you back into the dorm. First though, you have to let the tears come so the student doesn’t run away before you can ask them the favor. You sink down onto the steps. The concrete is icy through your jeans. Blistering tears drip down your cheeks the second you collapse your defenses. You muffle your sobs in your sweater’s arms so they don’t echo. No need to broadcast your weakness any more than you already are.

A quiet voice uncertainly calls your name from the landing above. Unable to control yourself, you look up.

Unopened present in hand, Jungkook looks down at you. His chest heaves, pressing against the railing as if he’d raced down the steps. He very well could have. Being too wrapped in your own misery makes one deaf to all the thunder in the world.

Too late you remember your tear-stained face. You hurriedly duck your head to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. By the time you feel and hear Jungkook come beside you, your breath is steadier and your face mostly dry.

He stops on the step above your seat, hesitating, unsure of what to do now that he’s found you. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You’re distantly proud when your voice has only the slightest tremble to it. You keep your eyes glued on a bit of gravel on the ground in front of you, arms wrapped defensively around yourself.

“Are you… okay? Hoseok said you looked upset about something. You didn’t even come in to give me this yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Go away.

He doesn’t. You feel him sit beside you, his legs stretching out into view. “I think you’re lying.”

You mumble a non-committal noise.

“You bring me a present, but you’re not even going to look at me. That’s supposed to make me believe there’s nothing wrong?”

Cursing mentally, you sigh. You close your eyes to brace yourself. When you’re sure you won’t lose it, you push your hair from your face and look at him. He’s as gorgeous as before and your heart still thumps harder. You were right. You aren’t ready.

“Fine, I’m not okay, but I will be.” You look away again. “It’s not your problem. Don’t worry about it.”

Jungkook nudges your shoulder gently with his. “I’m your friend. How can I not?”

You shake your head. Those words hurt more than you ever thought possible. It only makes your failure worse.

Jungkook hesitates before speaking. Slowly, he says, “You know how when you start working out, your muscles really hurt the next day? Like so much you can’t move and you have to grit your teeth to hobble around?”

A wet chuckle bubbles out of your lips. You toss up your hands. “What relevance does this have?”

“Hear me out,” Jungkook insists. “You know that feeling, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That lasts for days and weeks. Some days it’s worse than others. Then, so gradually you don’t notice, the pain goes away and you’re stronger. If you just stop and start, the pain is just as bad the first time and it’ll keep coming back. You have to push through it.”

You drop your head back against the stairwell wall. The sooner he stops talking, the sooner you can run away to lick your wounds in peace. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m getting to the point, I promise. The heart is a muscle too, right? If it’s hurting, you still need to use it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone broke your heart, didn’t they? That’s why you’re crying. That’s why you never texted or called me back during break.” He looks to you for confirmation.

Shaking your head, you start to reply, but he jolts upright suddenly.

“Wait, did that guy from your work do something again? Say something to you?” Jungkook presses. “I’ll go break his nose right now.”

“No,” you sniffle.

“Good. Is it someone I know? I’ll go talk to him, or hit him, if you want. Hell, I’ll do it if I don’t even know the guy.”

“Jungkook-”

“You deserve better than crying in some cold stairwell. You know that, right? I really mean it. You’re great. Better than great. Look, I know we men can suck, and I mean majorly, but he’s not worth crying over if he hurt you. He shouldn’t have.” He ruffles his hair in frustration, like he blames himself for not protecting you. The irony isn’t lost on you. “Even if you’re hurting, you still need to get out there to help yourself get over this asshole. Don’t let his stupidity-”

Unable to continue listening to his preaching, you burst out, “You’re the asshole!”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open in shock, but it quickly twists into anger. “Why do you always get so touchy when I talk about love stuff?” he huffs. Pulling his legs up and slamming his arms on top of them, he puts some space between you. But he doesn’t leave. He mutters, “I’m just trying to help.”

You let the silence hang in the air a few moments before you sigh. Softly, you confess, “What I mean is, you’re the asshole who broke my heart. Even though you never knew. Because, I love you.”

A sound makes you look up. You see you did hear correctly. The jerk is giggling. You just exposed your heart and he’s laughing at you.

Ashamed and humiliated, you jerk up. Eyes on the ground so you don’t burst into tears, you say in a wavering voice, “Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Wait.” Jungkook’s hand closes around yours and tugs. His intention clearly to make you stay, he pulls a little too hard. Your feet slip from beneath you and you fall backwards.

When you land, you wish it was on the butt-busting concrete. Instead, it’s definitely not a place you want to be: Jungkook’s lap.

He looks as surprised as you at your sudden position, but he instantly tightens his arms around you when you shift to get up.

“Let go of me,” you mutter, still refusing to look at him. Your hands might as well be pushing against the wall.

“No.” Jungkook pulls his legs up, further trapping you. You keep your chin tucked, face turned away towards the door. He leaves a long silence as he searches for what he wants to say next, finally settling on, “I’m sorry I laughed. I didn’t mean to.”

You let him stew a bit before nodding. If all he wanted to do is apologize, he’s done it and now he’ll let you go. But he doesn’t.

Jungkook continues, “You just surprised me. It was a knee jerk reaction. I never thought you’d-… you know. That you felt like that.”

“Well, please forget it. I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks, trying to look at your face.

You shift uncomfortably in his hold. Guilt already nips at your chest. “I’m not a homewrecker. You’re with Isa.”

“No, I’m not.”

Your head jolts up, almost hitting his chin. He can’t be serious. “What? Since when?”

“Like a week after break started.” Jungkook shrugs. “It just didn’t work out. We found out we wanted different things.”

“Oh.” You study his face carefully for signs of regret or sadness in his face. Even though you don’t see any, you still sympathetically offer, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. She wanted me to give up Overwatch. She said it was distracting me from being a real dancer.”

“Heaven forbid.” The sarcastic comment slips out before you can stop it, but Jungkook just nods solemnly.

“Seriously.” He shyly glances at you. “Do you really like me?”

“Yes,” you hurry to add, “but I’m not expecting anything, Jungkook. You don’t have to say you feel the same or anything. I just kind of sprung it on you and you’re probably still getting over Isa-”

“I’m not. She was cool and everything, but not really for me. I just got caught up in an upperclassman being interested in me. Not being around her made me realize I liked the idea of her more than I actually liked her. Like I said, guys are stupid.” He chuckles in self-deprecation. Jungkook adjusts his hold so he can look you more fully in the face. “We can be pretty blind too.”

You fidget nervously, but you can’t look away. “Really, Jungkook. You don’t have to say that.”

“I know.” He stops and chuckles again. “I never would’ve thought I was the asshole honestly.”

“Why not? You’re basically perfect. It’s really unfair.”

Jungkook snorts. “You saw my test scores. You know that’s not true. You’re the perfect one.”

“Am not,” you immediately retort.

“You’re really smart and sweeter than you should be. And you remember that text Taehyung sent that first night we studied together? ‘Good luck with your pretty tutor’? He said that because he saw I had you saved as ‘pretty tutor’ in my contacts.”

You bury your face in his shoulder in embarrassment. “Jungkook.”

“And you’re right; it is new, but I don’t think it’d be very hard to…for us to start, you know… since we already know each other and are comfortable…so it’d be easy to start…”

“Start what?” you prod. Your heart is pounding in your chest, churning your stomach too much to let you verbalize the words you hope Jungkook is about to say.

He bites his lips ad looks at you through his bangs. “Start dating. If you want to, that is.”

Just as bashfully, you nod and say, “I want to.”

Jungkook smiles brightly. He squeezes you tighter to his chest until you bang on it when you can’t breathe. “Sorry,” he giggles.

You smile back, too happy to believe it’s true. “It’s okay.”

His smile quiets as he gazes at you. You never saw him look at Isa like this.

Jungkook bends his face closer to yours. “Can I, um, try something?”

Eyes glued to his too near lips, you breathe, “Yes.” You know what happens next.

“Can I kiss you?”

In reply, you close the space and kiss him first. Your mouths stay closed, but your heart still feels like it froze and exploded into a million pieces. His soft, warm lips stick to yours when you pull away, keeping the kiss short.

Against your chest, his heart beats at the same hammering pace as yours. Jungkook is slow to open his eyes, as if they’re weighed down by decades of sleeplessness. A tint of worry is in them when he huskily asks, “Was that okay for you?”

“More than okay,” you answer. If he wasn’t holding you, you’d be slumped in a puddle.

“Then, can I kiss you again?”

You don’t get to finish nodding before Jungkook’s mouth is on yours again. He doesn’t push, doesn’t rush. He kisses you deliberately, simply but devastatingly. It’s all you imagined and more.

“Finally!” Taehyung’s voice blasts through the stairwell, followed by a chorus of male hooting and cooing.

You and Jungkook jump apart and crane your necks upward.

Two flights above you stand Taehyung and Hoseok, flanked by Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin and Seokjin, two other of Jungkook’s friends you’ve met a few times. They’re all peering shamelessly down at you and yelling different versions of teasing congratulations.

“Our little Kookie is all grown up and become a man.” Seokjin pretends to sob into his sleeve, but his eyes are all mischief.

“Little Kookie’s about to kick your butts!” Jungkook shouts back. He starts to shift you out of his lap, but you cling to his neck.

“Ignore them,” you whisper. “They’re jealous.”

The indignation in Jungkook’s face transforms to smugness. “You’re right. They have every reason to be.”

Jungkook tilts you backwards to kiss you thoroughly, but not before you see him send his friends a one fingered salute, causing more shouts and calls. Your lips tremble in laughter, as do Jungkook’s.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s present lying abandoned by his side, totally forgotten. It doesn’t bother you. You’re positive he likes this one much better.

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