Jungkook’s POV:

For a moment everything seemed to have stopped.

It was only her and I, staring at each other.

I knew I should have turned away to avoid being seen or recognized but I couldn’t.

The dull ache in my chest of unknown origin reached its peak when she fell backward on to her dead lover.

And just like that, everything and everyone was back to their original pace.

As if broken from a trance, I packed my stuff up just as everything went up in chaos at the scene.

It wouldn’t be long that people realize the shot was fired from a higher level.

With my hands trembling, I didn’t realize I had forgotten the discarded cigarette there.

The cold water dripping from my face, and yet still, my heart was beating fast and the heat wouldn’t leave me.

I don’t know how long I just sat in the shower.

I had never missed my mark. I had never misjudged.

I had never hurt an innocent person.

How did she know when to jump in front?

I was so far away.

She couldn’t have seen me, she couldn’t have sensed danger... she couldn’t have felt me.

Then how?

How did I end up hurting her?

How could I commit a mistake?

When I finally got out of the shower, my finger tips were all wrinkly...

But my mind was made.

I had to meet her.

My hand froze mid air.

Why couldn’t I knock on the door?

Why was I feeling hesitant to face her?

Taking in a deep breath, I knocked.

When she didn’t reply, I went in, hoping to find her asleep.

The dull hospital room was sunlit appropriately and scent of flowers instantly hit my nose.

There she was. Under covers, asleep.

I don’t know why but I felt bad seeing her in bed, hurt.. broken.. injured. Because if me.

“Get well soon, y/n,” I whispered to a sleeping y/n and turned to leave.

“Jungkook,” her voice stopped me in my tracks.

I froze. All the courage I had mustered up dissolved to nothing when I had to face her.

“Please don’t leave...,” her voice came out a sorrowful whimper and it somehow made me feel.... hurt.

Slowly, I turned around and saw her tear streaked face.

Not sure what to say, or do, I sat next to her on the steel stool and looked at my hands as she sobbed.

What could I say?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Seeing a friend just... it opened the floodgates...”

Why is she apologizing? I should be the one apologizing.

I passed her the tissue box and watched quietly as she wiped her tears.

“I thought it was daddy, so I pretended to be asleep,” she explained.

The confusion on my face must have been evident because she elaborated further.

“My daddy never approved of Taehyun oppa. He always talked about how he was too old for me