Jungkook

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are,” Namjoon says, kicking my legs off the coffee table. “I’m bored out of my mind. Jin works all weekend, and Jimin is off doing God knows what with God knows who.”

I immediately look up at him with my heart caught in my throat.

He laughs. “That got your attention.” He reaches forward, grabs my hands, and pulls me off the couch. “I’m kidding. Jimin is at home working, being a mopey little , just like you’re trying to be. Now, go get pretty and come out with me tonight, or I’ll sit on the couch with you and force you to watch .”

I pull my hands from his and walk to the kitchen. I open a cabinet, then grab a cup. “I don’t want to go out tonight, Namjoon. I had class all day, and it’s my only night off from the library. I’m sure you can find someone else to go with you.” I grab a container of juice from the refrigerator and fill my glass. Leaning against the counter, I take a sip as I watch Namjoon pout in my living room. He’s kind of adorable when he pouts, which is why I always give him such a hard time.

“Listen up, Kook,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. He grabs a bar stool and pulls it out, then takes a seat. “I’m about to lay things out for you, okay?”

I roll my eyes. “I doubt I can stop you, so go ahead.”

He lays his palms flat on the counter in front of him and leans forward. “You .”

I laugh. “That’s it? That's what you needed to lay out for me?”

He nods. “You . So does Jimin. Since the night I gave him your address, you’ve both . All he does is work or write music. He doesn’t even play pranks on me anymore. Every time I’m over here, you’re just focused on studying. You never want to go out. You never want to hear my stories anymore.”

“Correction,” I say interrupting him. “I’ve never wanted to hear your stories. That’s nothing new.”

“Whatever,” he says, shaking his head. “My point is that the two of you are miserable. I know you need time and blah, blah, blah, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up fun while you’re figuring your life out. I want to go have fun. No one wants to have fun with me anymore, and that’s all your fault, because you’re the only one who can put a stop to the misery you and Jimin are going through. So, yes. You . You , you , you . And if you want to stop so much, then go get dressed so we can go out and not together for just a few hours.”

I don’t know how to argue with that. I do . I , I , I . Only Namjoon could put it in such a simple, straightforward way that would actually make sense. I know I’ve been miserable the past few months, and it doesn’t help to know that Jimin has been miserable, too. He’s miserable because he’s sitting around waiting for me to get over whatever it is that’s keeping me from contacting him.

The last thing he said in his letter to me was Just say when.

I’ve been trying to say when since the moment I read that letter, but I’m just too scared. I’ve never felt about anyone or anything the way I feel about him, and the thought of us not working out is enough to keep me from saying that one little word. I feel as if the longer we wait and the more time we have to head, the better chance we’ll have at our maybe someday.

I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure he’s moved on from Yoongi. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that he’s ready to commit fully to me. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that I’m not going to be consumed with guilt for allowing myself to trust someone with my heart again.

I don’t know when I’ll get to that point, and it hurts to know that my inability to move forward is holding Jimin back.

“Now,” Namjoon says, shoving me out of the kitchen. “Get dressed.”

.

.

.

I can’t believe I’ve let him talk me into this. I check my makeup one last time and grab my bag. As soon as he sees me, he shakes his head. I huff and throw my hand in the air.

“What now?” I sigh. “I’m not dressed appropriately?”

“You look great, but I want you to wear the blue t-shirt.”

“I burned that t-shirt, remember?” I say.

“The hell you did,” he says, pushing me back toward my bedroom. “You were wearing it last week when I stopped by. Go put it on so we can leave.”

I spin around to face him. “I know how much you like that dress, and wearing it tonight while I’m out with you is a little too creepy, Namjoon.”

He narrows his eyes. “Listen, Kook. I don’t mean to be rude, but all this moping around for the past few months has caused you to put on a little weight. Your looks huge in those jeans. The blue shirt may be able to hide a little of that, so go put it on, or I might be too embarrassed to go out with you.”

I suddenly feel like slapping him again, but I know he’s just got a peculiar sense of humor. I also know he might have a completely different reason for why he wants me to wear this shirt and I’m trying  not to let myself think it has anything to do with Jimin, but pretty much every situation I’m in somehow makes me think about Jimin. It’s nothing new. But Namjoon is a guy who seems to put his foot it his mouth a lot, and I’m a girl, so I still wonder if his sarcastic remark has any truth to it. I have been replacing the void Jimin left in my life with food. I look down at my stomach and pat it, then look back up at Namjoon. “You’re an .”

He nods. “I know.”

The innocent smile on his face makes me instantly forgive any crudeness beh