Sexchange ● JJK

• 19 • 143

Everything falls silent as he says that.

All your bullshit quiets down. H-He did what?

Just like the deafening silence, your heart stops too. A jolt is given to it as his fingers wrap around your shaking ones, lightly. The hammering in your veins gets so high that your chest starts falling and heaving with deep breaths.

His face grows cold again.

"What?"

Poor him, he's so sleepy. It's an important conversation but the pain in his head is not subsiding. He's in no condition to have a proper talk. Your verklempt state is understood by him, he's no different from inside, but this can be done later, when he's fully cognizant of your feelings.

Droopy eyelids fall by themselves but open for you. No answer.

Without your permission, teardrops have started coursing down. A shower left open. He just- Oh, fucking God! He's just...impossible. What are you supposed to do now? What is this supposed to mean? That's...literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You didn't know he had it in him to be this mushy. What if he's lying? A jock like him definitely cannot have put this bracelet back together. It's stereotypical to think so but you really can't accept the fact that this man-who only wears black and has no distinguishable emotions except rage and irritation-is capable of taking up such an intricate task. That, too, for you.

This means despite all his trials to reject your emotions and this foolish way of you trying to be connected with him, he had always liked it. Secretly. It was hard but deep inside, in a corner of his heart where he was soft for you, he kept wearing it to match with you. An imagine of him beading the bracelet back together brightens up in your mind, it's weird but makes you cry harder. He was doing it all for you, fighting himself, putting effort. Pulling himself together and facing emotions.

He broke it but he's putting it back together.

As he's said before, he knows how to clean up his mess.

Knowing you're not going to stop any time soon, he brings your head closer and when you start weeping like a grown-up baby, he buries it into his chest. You cling onto his tee and wet it with your huge tears. He holds your head and caresses your flowing, straight hair with his fingers. They weave in and untangle some strands, delicately. His heart hurts too, seeing you cry. Never did he want you to cry yet he had managed to make you cry uncountable times.

The force with which you stick yourself onto him makes him feel complete. Finally, like a man. After years of failing to feel like one, he feels he matured somehow. Became a man in your hands. It might be the new light you see him in causing you to cry so much but he knows he's always been like this, just never showed it to you. Your hands fist up his tee and it's petulance shows him how much he mattered to you. The selfless way you had loved him.

A month or two away can never wash away centuries of love.

"Shh," he whispered, rubbing your back in soothing circles and placing the loveliest kiss on your crown head.

"Ho-How- Why?" You snivel and look up, salty water keeps falling on his tee, dampening it and he feels cold on that place.

His hand doesn't leave your hair, it holds you close. Almost ready to fall asleep but he's holding on. "Your shift starts in an hour. Call Jimin and go back. If you ever need a chauffer, call me any time."

Such an idiot! After putting a bracelet together, he's offering to be you chauffer? Huh, does he think you're that evil? Finally, you notice the tired lines on his face relaxing as he goes back to sleep. Right, he's sick. You forgot. But you're damn adamant about talking with him. If this conversation doesn't happen, you're not going to be able to sleep.