((A/N: SO I decided to write a second ending bc that JUNGKOOK SCENE WAS NO JOKE so yah

Also this was a long- chapter so I didn't bother editing anything so yah))

            I never thought I’d meet him again.

            “Hey babe,” Jungkook said as he clomped noisily down the stairs, pulling me in by the waist and pressing a kiss to my temple. “Breakfast ready? I have to go to work early.”

            I shot a pointed look at him when he pulled away. “You know I hate it when you call me that. And the waffles are still in the toaster.” I grew kind of pink at that last statement, remembering how I swore that I would be better at cooking just a week ago and ended up just buying frozen waffles from the drugstore down the street again.

            “I remember when I said I would never move in with a girl who can’t cook,” Jungkook said, sliding in his socks down to the kitchen (yes, he still does that) with his briefcase in one hand. “You need to stop breaking all my rules.”

            I rolled my eyes, following him down the hall to the kitchen. “Allow me to remind you that you’re absolutely at housekeeping, so without me you’d be rotting amidst towers of pizza boxes and old socks.”

            “I love you,” he said in response, grinning as he grabbed a waffle that had just popped out of the toaster and took a bite. “I just wish I could say the same about your cooking,” he added devilishly around a mouthful of storebought waffle.

            I rolled my eyes again. “If you weren’t the only source of income here, I would’ve kicked you out a long time ago.”

            “No you wouldn’t have.” He leaned down to rub the head of our cat, Mocha, who’d padded over from wherever she’d been to nuzzle against his shin affectionately. “Mocha wouldn’t let you.”

            I laughed, walking over to press a kiss to his lips, leaning against him from a bit further away so that I wouldn’t squish the cat. “You’re an idiot, Jungkook,” I whispered as we half-pulled away.

            He smirked, pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you too.”

            “Now get to work, or you’re gonna be late.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Shut up, Jungkook.”

-

((A/N: Double dash marks POV change, single dash marks pause between two parts of the same POV))

            After I’d watched from the window as my boyfriend/fiancé/best friend pulled out of our driveway, I padded into the kitchen to eat breakfast myself. Mocha curled around my legs for a few seconds before disappearing again.

            Pressing the button on the coffee machine, I leaned against the cupboard and sighed to myself. There was a little stain on the counter, and I rubbed at it listlessly.

            “There’s a stain on your shirt,” Jimin said softly, and the way he was looking at me made me want to stare back at him and avert my gaze simultaneously.

            “Hm?” Instead, I looked down, and found slightly dark spots of dampness on my white shirt. “Oh, those are probably just tears…”

            “Tears?” The look in his eyes was soft, and full of pain. “How much have you been crying?”

            Mocha, having reappeared, dug her claws into my foot.

            I blinked, snapped out of my flashback so abruptly I felt a bit dizzy. All around me, the setting was the same – sunlight pouring in through the windows, the countertop and tiled floor of the kitchen smooth and clean – but a guilt had settled in, as well as a bittersweet heaviness in my heart. I looked outside, and for a moment I swore I could see a park bench, tucked in the shade of a cherry tree.

            Then I blinked again, and the illusion was gone. But the guilt and bitterness were still there.

            I sighed, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Get it together, Yoonmi. You need to stop thinking about him.”

            I watched as the gray striped tail of our cat disappeared around the corner again. Jungkook always joked that she spent all that time out of sight ing, which led to a very disturbing topic on how animals .

            Anyways.

            After I’d moved in with my aunt, who’d understood my situation immediately once I arrived at her door with a backpack and tears still streaming down my cheeks, I threw my heart, soul and mind into studying to get away from my past and the three people I would truly miss. Despite my earlier resolution not to tell Jimin anything, I still felt extremely regretful, especially considering the way I’d rejected him.

            Half a year later, I somehow wound up in my old neighborhood, driving around and being constantly bombarded with memories at everything I saw. I knew my parents had moved away – my aunt had told me – but it still shook me pretty badly when I saw the house I grew up in inhabited by strangers.

            It was extremely immature of me, but I made a point to take as many detours as possible so I wouldn’t have to drive past where I’d first met Jimin, under that tree in the rain.

            I’d met Jungkook again that time as well. It was as if every little piece from our childhood together fell in place. He was the one for me, and I was the one for him. Eventually, we found ourselves living in the same house, like the perfect husband-and-wife (even though we technically weren’t that yet), with a cute (but apparently ) cat roaming around.

            Yoonseok, apparently, had reported his parents to the police, and was now in foster care. I called him once, after the workers had given me the household’s number, and caught up with him. He was happy. I could tell by his voice.

           My aunt was a strict but good caretaker, and had supported me all throughout the rest of high school and college. She’d made me pay rent, but treated me as if I was her own daughter, and even now checked up on me constantly.

            My life was perfect, everything exactly as I liked it to be. Everything except Jimin.

            Jungkook didn’t deserve a girl who constantly thought about another boy from five years back. Jungkook didn’t deserve a girl who found herself wondering, ‘what if-?’ and just barely catching herself before she started longing for the other guy.

            Jungkook didn’t deserve me. Yet he still loved me. And I was so grateful.

--

            I sat in the booth tucked beside the window, sipping coffee out of a porcelain mug while I read my girlfriend’s texts. She was in the countryside with her parents at the moment, for a little family reunion. As much as she’d wanted to bring me along, and as much as I’d wanted to go with her, we both knew that would be intruding on precious family time.

            Hydrangeas are pretty.

            I smiled. Just like her, to text me random thoughts about – well – everything.

            Not as pretty as you, I typed back, and hit Send.

            My phone pinged just moments later. Despite being in the countryside and all, Harang’s grandparents were the coolest old people I’d ever met, so their ranch had Wi-Fi. I was pretty sure they were more up-to-date on technology and stuff than my parents.

            I’m actually cringing, you cheeseball was her reply.

            I grinned. You love me.

            Yeah, and sometimes I wonder why.

            *gasp* I’m heartbroken. You would question your love for me, when I have devoted my heart and soul to you?

            I’ve devoted my heart and soul to you, too, just not my sarcasm.

            I shouldn’t have gotten such a sassy girlfriend.

            You love me.

            Yeah, and sometimes I wonder why.

            Don’t you dare throw my words back at me.

            Hehe~

            PARK JIMIN.

            Lol okay sorry

            You’re lucky I have to go or you’d be more doomed than a puppy falling into the depths of hell.

            Your analogies. Anyways, have fun!!! Love you!!! <3

            Love you too <3<3<3

            Smiling, I turned off my phone and directed my attention to the window looking out onto the street. It was a peaceful day, having gotten past the rush hour, and there weren’t many people around. The café was oddly crowded – or maybe because it was rather small, and easily filled.

            Just then, someone came into view. I looked up.

            My breath hitched in my throat.

            “Yoo-Yoonmi?” I stuttered, blinking rapidly and almost dropping my coffee mug.

            Her hair was wavy now, with faint blond highlights streaking through the dark brown. She was wearing minimal makeup, as opposed to her dark eyeliner when I’d last seen her, but seemed to be happier, fuller, more at peace. She was practically glowing, dressed in a long gray sweater, black jeans, and cream-colored infinite scarf.

            I smiled at her. I’d hoped to have seen her again.

            Honestly, after she’d left five years ago with only a cryptic, then-heartbreaking-text, I’d spent half a year searching for closure, making random assumptions as to why she left. Then I met Chaerin again, and after she explained, we picked up where we left off – but I broke up with her only a month after we’d started dating again.

            And then I met Harang, and she fixed everything. She’d done what Yoonmi had done in place of Chaerin all those years back – replaced her, then grown into much more than a consolation prize.

            Yoonmi had a soft, slightly sad smile on her face. “I was wondering if it was really you.”

            “You look nice,” I commented. I was proud of myself for how my heart rate didn’t change with her here, that I didn’t second-guess everything that came out of my mouth anymore. I realized with a rapidly spreading warmth in my chest that I really was over her.

            At that, Yoonmi’s small smile broke out into a full grin – and I was shocked at how full it was. It reached her eyes, making them crinkle, lighting up everything around her. There was no more slightly sad look in her eyes, no fading humor, no reading between the lines. She was just happy, with no side effects, no fine print.

            And I was happy for her. I really was.

           “You look nice, too,” she said, sitting down across from me. She held a steaming mug of coffee in her hands as well. “This hairstyle suits you better.”

            I beamed at her. “Do you really think so?” Before, I’d just let it fall across my forehead and didn’t even think about dyeing it. But when everybody at college thought I was a high school student who’d skipped a grade or two, I realized it made me look childish, naïve, immature. So, the summer before sophomore year, I dyed it a light brown and pinned my bangs back with bobby pins every night so that, the next morning, they would flip up and kind of curve back down. Everyone thought I looked nicer, I thought I looked nicer – partially because it kind of symbolized to me that I was leaving the old me behind, the me still in love with a girl who was too sad to love me back.

            “Yeah. And you look happier,” Yoonmi added before taking a sip from her coffee. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

            I laughed at the line of white smeared across her upper lip. “You have a milk mustache.” Without thinking, I leaned over and swiped at it with my thumb, cupping her face with my hand to keep it still.

            “Thanks,” she said, and I was glad to see that she wasn’t blushing when I sat back in my seat.

            “And, to answer your question, yeah, I do,” I said. The clouds broke outside, and a ray of sunlight spilled into the café, making me squint and cover my face. “Her name’s Harang. She’s currently visiting family, so I’m alone for the time being.”

            She smiled at me, and it still unnerved me how bright and pure it was compared to her smile before. “You must love her a lot. Or being around me drained you,” she joked, resting her head on her crossed arms.

            I laughed, leaning back in my seat and stretching my arms over my head. “I do. Love her a lot, I mean. And you were kind of a killjoy, no offense.”

            “None taken. Oh, do you remember Jungkook?” The way her eyes lit up just by saying his name, I knew they’d found each other again after she left.

            “Your best friend? Yeah. I was so jealous of him back then,” I said, laughing.

            Yoonmi chuckled. “Yeah, well… we’re dating now.”

            “Oh?” I wasn’t surprised. “That’s great. He seems like a good guy, especially since being with him makes you this happy.”

            Yoonmi smiled again, before the laughter in her eyes faded into something serious. “Hey, Jimin?”

            “Yeah?” I took a sip of my coffee. It was cooling down, and so far I’d only managed to finish half the cup.

            “Even though we’re clearly over each other, I figured you still might want some… explanation? And besides, it’s been plaguing me since I left,” Yoonmi added. “So even if you don’t want an explanation, I’m going to explain anyways.”

            She paused, looking at me. I nodded at her to keep going.

            “Did I tell you about my parents?” she asked.

            I shook my head, frowning. I’d sensed her life wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, but she’d never told me anything specific as to why she was always so sad. “No.”

            “Right.” She sighed, exasperated. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.” She caught my hurt look. “Not because of you, don’t worry. Anyways. Where do I start?”

--

            I stared at Jimin while he processed everything I’d just said, trying to gauge his measured expression. A few seconds of silence passed between the two of us before he finally spoke up, and I was glad to find no trace of negative emotion in his eyes.

            “Wow,” he said. “That’s… wow.”

            I smiled ruefully at him. “So now you know.”

            He nodded, smiling back. “So now I know.” He threw a glance at his wrist – probably out of habit – and cursed under his breath. “, I’m late for something.” He stood up quickly, the chair screeching gainst the floor. Surprised, I did the same thing. “It was nice talking to you again, Yoonmi.”

            “Yeah.” I grabbed the porcelain mug, now empty, off the table. “Are you finished your coffee?”

            “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

            “Great. I’ll return the mug for you.”

            “Sure, thanks. I’ve got to go now.”

            “Oh, right. Bye, then.”

            “Bye.”

           For some reason, watching Jimin leave out the door was more final for me than the way I’d left him five years ago, on a bus with an unclear destination, and nothing but a heartbreaking text as a goodbye.

-

            Jungkook came home earlier than usual, which was probably due to the fact that he’d been called in earlier than usual.

            “I’m home!” He hollered, closing the door gently and kicking off his dress shoes. “Damn, I think my feet must’ve grown, these shoes are way too-”

            I cut him off by promptly marching from the kitchen where I was making dinner, grabbed his face, and kissing him.

            “Whoa,” he chuckled, turning red when I pulled away. “What happened, did you catch Mocha ing or something?”

            I rolled my eyes. “Not this again. You know the café down the street?”

            “The one that just opened? Yeah, did you go there?” I helped Jungkook slip out of his coat, and hung it up on the coat rack. “You look nice, by the way. All fuzzy and cute,” he teased.

            “Shut up,” I sighed, although I felt my face turn pink from the compliment. “Yeah, I went there. It’s pretty nice. They serve the coffee in these impossibly clean mugs. But guess who was there?”

            Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you met your parents?”

            I winced at the possibility. “Geez, no. You remember Jimin?”

            “The guy you had the hots for five years ago then decided to abandon out of nowhere without even explaining the reason you left him? Yeah, I remember.” He noted my deathglare aimed his way, and laughed, pulling me against his chest and kissing the top of my head. Warmth spread through me, and it took most of my willpower not to snuggle into his chest and melt into his scent. “Kidding, kidding. The way you left him was kind of unfair though.”

            “I know,” I sighed, reaching out to untie his tie. “But I ran into him at the café.”

            “Let me guess, you explained everything, and now you’ve come to tell me that you’re leaving me for him?”

            I stepped back, horrified. “Jungkook, no.”

            He laughed. “Calm down, I was just kidding. Your face is completely white.”

            “I hate you,” I grumbled, staring at my feet.

            “I love you~” Jungkook sang, wrapping his arms around my torso and pulling me close.