Chapter 56 Jungkook

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Jungkook doesn't follow you. He hears the door close, sees your figure just before it does and still smells your perfume even after you're gone.

He wants to punch himself in the face. Or jump off a cliff. Or maybe into an active volcano. Was the Sakurajima volcano still active?

Of course he said the stupidest thing possible when he meant something else entirely. What he'd wanted to say was that those articles didn't really care about slandering you and that they were just doing it for attention. That you shouldn't worry about what they were saying.

He didn't mean to imply you were flirting with Jimin.

He doesn't know what he meant. Seeing those pictures, though he knew they were taken out of context, made him feel weird. Made him want to walk over, grab you and bring you back to hotel room. To talk. To take your mind off Jimin and make you focus only on him. To do... something else entirely.

He knew his anger was misdirected, and he hated himself for that. Because really, he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at himself. At the entire situation he'd gotten himself into. The stupid contract, the dates, the uncertain feelings. He'd been so selfish to think it wouldn't matter. To think nothing would come out of it and that after that contract ended, he'd be fine with returning to his daily life without ever think about the time spent with you. Because it wasn't the implication of you being with someone else that made him mad - he'd tried to set you up with Taehyung and he knew that the title was just cheap, drama-seeking bullshit. It was the implication that he wasn't enough for you. That you'd need someone else. That whatever he did, he couldn't have you for himself.

And there it was again. He was such a selfish prick for thinking about what he wanted. But was it really so selfish to want you? 

Was it really so wrong, when your hand fit perfectly into his? When your forehead was made for him to kiss? He didn't remember much from Jackson's party, but that moment he wouldn't forget. Couldn't forget.

He just knew that he didn't like the feeling of seeing you with him. That when he saw those pictures, he'd wanted to go over to you and tell you that Jimin wasn't worth your time. 

But to be honest, was he worth your time?

There was a simple answer to that question: no, he wasn't.

He clearly wasn't in a position to make any demands after he'd treated you like that for the past few days. He was an idiot. 

"I stopped caring about it the night we were in that stupid pool in Busan."

Your words echoed through his head. 

Then was everything that happened after that real? All those moments spent together? All the shared meals, the late nights, every single one of your smiles?

The longer he thought about it the more he hated himself.

You were right though. He'd been so obsessed with that project proposal and with what Kim Seokjin might think about him that he'd never once stop to see what an asshole he was. 

He took a deep breath and ran hand over his face. He needed to apologize. He couldn't leave things like that.

So he headed to the pool, hoping to find you there, laying on a deckchair with a book in your hand. Despite the area being crowded, you were nowhere to be found. He'd seen the bartender from the pictures and was about to go ask him if he'd seen you, but he already knew the answer. You were gone. He'd messed up real badly. 

Still, he looked all over: the restaurant, the rooftop, the garden. Nothing. 

He went back to the hotel room in hopes that you had maybe gotten back in the meantime, but of course, he was getting ahead of himself: why would you? After what he said? And that's when he saw your keycard lying there on the table. 

Fuck. 

His phone rang.

He took it out with trembling hands. The sliver of hope was soon extinguished when he saw that it wasn't your name on the screen but Kim Seokjin's. He picked up. 

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon. I heard the dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Ito went well. I've sent you some documents to look over, I hope it's not too late in the evening. I was hoping you could incorporate that data into the proposal you've been working on?"

Jungkook was not having it. The man has been like that from the day the honeymoon started. 'Send me this, send me that.' 'Take a look at this, look over that.' 'Do this by tomorrow, have it done by today.' Keeping him on a tight deadline and giving him thrice the workload he'd usually be doing. Making him go through lists and search for stupid details that weren't even relevant to the actual work. He'd contacted Jungkook just a few days before the honeymoon and told him that he was seriously thinking about the two departments joining. When he asked him how soon he could start working on a proposal, he foolishly agreed to get working as soon as possible, not knowing that it would mean having to pull all-nighters in a row just because the man was messing with him. In hindsight, Kim Seokjin probably hadn't once seriously considered a collaboration.

When he thought about Mrs. Ito and how quickly she dismissed the proposal, it all made sense.

He needed to draw a line. "Mr. Kim, I really appreciate you entrusting me with all this responsibility." He tried his best to make it sound as professional and as inoffensive as possible. "However, as you already know, I am currently in Japan for my honeymoon and not on official business. I would really appreciate if you could refrain from contacting me until I return."

There. He'd said it. He couldn't believe how relieved he was. Of course, it didn't really change anything. It was too little too late. Every mistake he made was crashing down on him all at once. He needed to tell you he was sorry. He needed to make things right. 

There was silence at the end of the line. "You do know what your refusal to work on that entails, right?"

Yes, and none of it was worth it if it meant losing you.

"If you decide to decide to cancel the project, that's fine by me. Have a nice evening."

With that, he hung up. He would deal with the consequences later. He searched your name in his contacts and called you. Several times. When you wouldn't pick up, he texted you. 

'Where are you?'

Delivered. Unread.

He glanced at the clock. It was getting close to midnight.

Had an hour already passed?

'At least tell me that you didn't get kidnapped and that you're safe.'

Still no answer. 

He began typing again. 

'Text me where you are so I can pick you up.'

He grabbed his car keys and headed downstairs.

'Please.'

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