Jimin

I pile a few things into a bag, hoping I’ll actually need it once I get to his house. I have no idea if Yoongi will even allow me to step through his front door, but the only thing I can do right now is be optimistic, because the alternative is unacceptable. It just is. I refuse to accept that this is it.

I know he’s hurt, and I know he hates me right now, but he has to understand how much he means to me and how my feelings for Jungkook were never intentional.

I clench my fists again, wondering why in the hell I ever had those conversations with Jungkook in the first place. Or why I failed to delete them. I never thought Yoongi would be in a position to read them. I guess in a way, I just didn’t feel guilty. The way I’ve felt towards Jungkook wasn’t something I wanted to happen, but the feelings are there, and refusing to act on them since our initial kiss has taken a hell of a lot of effort. In an oddly sadistic way, I’ve actually been proud of myself for being able to fight it the way I have.

But Yoongi won’t see that side of it, and I completely understand. I know Yoongi, and if he read all the messages, he’s more upset about the connection I’ve made with Jungkook than he is over the fact won’t see that side of it, and I completely understand. I know Yoongi, and if he read all the messages, he’s more upset about the connection I’ve made with Jungkook than he is over the fact that I kissed him. The feelings I have for Jungkook aren’t something I’m sure I can talk my way out of.

I grab my bag and my phone and head into the kitchen to pack the laptop. When I reach the counter, I notice a piece of paper peeking out from the computer. I find a sticky note stuck to the screen.

Jimin,

It was never my intention to read your personal stuff, but when I opened your laptop, it was all right there in front of me. I read all of it, and I wish I never saw it. Please give me time to process everything before you show up. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to talk in a few days.

Yoongi.

A few days?

God, please don’t let him be serious. There’s no way my heart will survive this for a few days. I’ll be lucky if I make it through the end of today knowing how I’ve made him feel.

I toss my bag back toward my bedroom door since I won’t need it for a while. I lean forward in defeat and rest my elbows on the bar, crumpling the note up in my fist. I stare down at the laptop before me.

Piece of computer.

Why the hell didn’t I have a password on it? Why the hell didn’t I take it with me when I left the hospital? Why the hell didn’t I delete everything? Why the hell did I even write anything to Jungkook in the first place?

I’ve never hated an inanimate object as much as I hate this computer. I slam the screen shut and bring my fist down on top of it with all my strength. I wish I could hear it crack. I wish I could hear the sound my fist makes each time I bring it down forcefully. I want to hear it crushed beneath my fist the same way my heart feels crushed inside my chest.