Jungkook

Deaf?

Oh. Wait. Deaf? But how? We’ve had many conversations.

The past weeks of meeting him and speaking with him blinked in my mind, and I can’t remember once I’ve heard him talking for real. That’s why Jin thought I’m deaf too? I stayed looking at my phone, drowning in a lot of shame. I’m not sure how to feel about this.

I’m sure that feeling betrayed is not a fair answer, but I can’t help it. I feel I need to add this to the list of “Ways the world can betray Jungkook in his birthday.” He didn’t just tell me that my boyfriend was having with other, but also that he forgot to mention he was deaf? It’s not like being deaf is something to feel obligated to tell me. I just..I don’t know.

Me:

Why didn’t you tell you were deaf?

Jimin:

Why didn’t you tell me you could listen?

I lean the head while I read his message and drown more in humiliation. He has a point. Oh, well. At least he won’t hear me until falling sleep.

Me:

Do you have some alcohol?

Jimin reads my message and laughs, then nods. He walks to the closet under the wash hand and takes out a strange bowl. He takes two glasses from the closet, then he proceeds to fill them with…liquid for cleaning?

-What the hell are you doing?- I ask him.

When he doesn’t turn around, I hit my forehead, remembering he can’t hear me. It’ll take me a while to get used to it.

I walk where he’s stand. When he leaves the bowl in the worktop and pick up the glasses, I grab the glass of cleaning liquid and read it, then raise an eyebrow. He laughs and gives me a glass.

He smells his drink, and then makes me signs to do the same. With hesitation I put it near my nose and find myself with the hot smell of whisky.

He lifts the glass, and crushes with mine, and we both drink our drinks. Still I’m recovering from the horrible taste when he picks up his phone and send me a new message.

Jimin:

Our other roommate has a problem with alcohol, so we have to hide it from him.

Me:

His problem is that he hates it?

Jimin:

His problem is that he doesn’t like to pay for it and drinks from the rest. I nod, I put down my phone, grab the container and put another drink for each. We repeat the movements, taking the second. I make a face while the burning slides down my throat and my chest. I shake my head, and then open my eyes.

-Can you read lips?- I ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders, and then grabs a piece of paper and a pen that was on the counter next to him.

Depends on which lips.

I guess that makes sense.

- Can you read mine?

He nods and then takes the pen again. Almost. I’ve learn to anticipate what people are going to say most of all. It takes many clues because of the body language and the situations in which I find myself.

-What do you mean?- I ask him, pushing the worktop with my ha