You hadn’t returned by the next day.

I felt awful by this time. I’d scared you away, you had left me, I was alone.

All alone like before.

I stood up and went to the bathroom. I returned to the bed and sat down. I stared at the object in my hand.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

That’s when I picked up my phone and called you.

“Jungkook?” you asked.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you.”

“Is something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. Your sweet, kind voice that always tried to comfort me when I cried, even when I pushed you away, even after I screamed at you and hit you and made you cry. When I cried, you tried to help me, you cried with me without even knowing why. 

I picked up the razor. “Be happy,” I whispered. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Kookie, what are you doing?” you cried. “Kookie, talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

“Kookie!” you cried. “Kookie, I can’t lose you too!”

I took the blade and dug it into my neck. I dragged it across. Pain flared from the cut. I choked, crying out from the pain.

“Kookie!” you shrieked. “Jungkook, Kookie, please, no!”

“Sorry, princess,” I choked out. “Go find your prince now.”

“J