He’s seeing it with his own eyes. 

He’s hearing it with his own ears.

Yet somehow, he’s not processing the very things in front of him  ;  Park Chaeyoung placing her set of house keys on the kitchen counter, two suit cases arranged neatly by the front door. It’s almost instinct for him to refuse to accept the message that was being communicated to him by her body language, by the words that he’s tenaciously DROWNING out. She’s not leaving. He can’t let her leave. 

Not when he was so close. 

Not when he was so close to finally feeling whole again.

“  But why  ?  ”  He finally speaks, taking a step close to see her take a couple away from him, a crisp sting across his chest as he’s peering through the tears in his eyes, wondering how it was that someone who was so effortlessly tender, could suddenly be looking at him with such incessant coldness, “  …  there’s still a month left and you still have another week of classes.  ”

He’s holding onto the neatly closed envelope, the one she asked him purposely not to open until she’s gone. 

His eyes fall onto hers, seeing a brief change of expression that almost looked like she was surprised that he knew her schedule so well, so brief that if he’d blinked at the wrong time, he wouldn’t have known. 

“  Please, Jungkook. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,  ”  she’s begging him, a rasp in her voice that screamed of the pain, “  …  it’s for the best.  ”

His nails dig into his own palms a soft scoff of disbelief as he shakes his head. 

He can’t believe the words emitting from her lips. 

Was this all a joke  ? 

He’d been taught to hold in his emotions in front of people as he focuses on maintaining a steadiness in his voice as he takes a step closer, this time, she doesn’t move from her spot.

DON’T DO IT. 

DON’T BREAK JEON JUNGKOOK.

DON’T LET HER KNOW. 

DON'T LET HER SEE

And he’s TRYING  — God he hates how suddenly difficult it becomes for him to force a neutral expression across his face, repeating the words as though it becomes a new mantra of sorts. 

DON’T LET HER HURT YOU. 

DON’T LET HER WIN.

“  Is this truly what you want  ?  ” His question conveys more of a heady hum, fingertips reaching for her flesh, thumb grazed against her lips in a gesture he’d become accustomed to, not wanting to admit the defeat, “  …  do you really want to leave ?  ”

SHE ALREADY WON.

His eyes drop from chocolate orbs to pink lips, watching as they quiver before her head nods. 

“  That’s complete BULL,  ”  he spits out through gritted teeth, suddenly consumed with an uncontrollable anger like a flame, flickering bright and screaming red to everyth