Ice Cream. I scream. (Special)

AN: Hello, Smokers. This chapter is from Jungkook's perspective.

'He has sleeping pills. Shit. He only has sleeping pills…'

I resisted the urge to throw all the bottles to the ground and instead, packed them back into the pouch as I remembered finding it. Zipped it up, and then put it back in the drawer.

Turned around and saw the empty room I was hoping I could unsee two minutes ago.

Every time I was about to walk out to find someone to give me something, I'd tell myself: 'Just hold on. Namjoon will be back soon. Don't be stupid…this feeling will pass…it will pass…'

I've been telling myself this almost daily for months now.

But when Namjoon came from work and hugged me while I was pretending to sleep, and I still felt the urge to feel different, I panicked.

"What's wrong?"

The walls were closing in. And it was so hard to breathe. I was making a conscious effort to bring the air in and out and every time I stopped paying attention to it. I thought: 'I'm dying...'

"Jungkook?"

He was making circles on my back to soothe me as I was hyperventilating on the pillow.

He was trying to comfort me. But I couldn't help but wish he'd stop being in the same room as me.

I didn't want him to see me falter. I didn't want to falter.

But the desperation to do so was getting stronger like a shadow that'd be able to eclipse even the sun.

"Do you want me to call an ambulance? Or we can take a taxi there..."

"Shh..."

"What?"

"SHHH!" I screamed as I arched my back and coughed the air I couldn't take in as I stared at the white pillows. Tears fell, but I wasn't sad. Rather, I was afraid I'll die right here and now.

My chest felt like a piece of paper that kept getting crumbled up by a pair of invisible merciless hands. My stomach was nothing but a heavy knot. And my lungs were fighting with me, but to what avail?

What was the point?

Every day was the same.

And I was ignoring it. I choose to consciously participate. To surrender to the present.

But every time Namjoon was gone, I'd be willing to sniff glue if the void would get filled up for only a moment.

"Jungkook..."

He stroked my hair, softly saying my name, then proceeded to whisper: "It's alright. I am here. Tell me what you need."

And that was the problem. I had no idea what is it that I was lacking.

Cause I knew that using a substance was only masking this despair, I couldn't escape now.

I was aware, but I would've sold my soul to stop feeling like this.

Gasping for air, choking on it, feeling dizzy, cold, hurt, disconnected, abandoned, and hopeless.

All of them, I had to breathe them all in, or else the air just wouldn't go down my throat.

"Water..."

I mumbled.

He immediately got up to look for it.

But all I wanted was for his eyes to stop watching me.

Then, maybe, I would stop feeling guilty for how much I wanted to escape this moment.

For how weak, I was.

Cause after months of sobriety and help from everyone, I still couldn't figure out what the problem was.

The best I got was: 'Maybe this world is just not built for people like me.'

It made no sense. Watching Namjoon and everyone live so normally like there was no other need that needed to be fulfilled. But I, on the other hand, felt like I was on borrowed time. Playing as someone they'd want me to be while I couldn't help but feel like this wasn't the real me.

Cause the real me, looked at the cup of water Namjoon brought me and wanted to smash it to the ground.

But the one who was a sane human being took the cup and drank from it.

Wishing it would do something.

It didn't.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No..." I spat out with a constricted throat.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

'Leave me alone...just leave me alone...'

"No."

"Try to breathe like me. Ok? Pay attention to my breathing."

He leaned closer, put an arm around my shaking back, and breathed louder.

I mimicked him. Cause that's all I've been doing lately.

Hoping that one day breathing like him, wouldn't hurt so much.

But alas, even if I couldn't figure out the reason for human existence or my existence in this world in particular.

I did figure out that Namjoon truly didn't want to be who he was before. He truly was a good person who's been stuck in a noir film since birth.

But I... I signed up for it myself.

I had to seek it out.

It was easy for me to get no drugs. Easy for me to not be in danger. Cause none of it followed me as it followed him.

I followed the things that society labeled bad like a month follows a flame. And even if I would've gotten burned by the scorching bulb, I wouldn't have minded it that much before. Because it made me feel like I was alive.

But now, watching him watch me with a worried expression, dressed in his uniform, tired and sore, I just couldn't find it in me to tell him how much I wanted to go back in time.

A time that I could barely remember.

Knowing that wish is wrong.

So, I'd just lie, smiling: "I'm better."

"Want to see your psychologist, psychiatrist, or whatever it was called."

"We're going home soon..."

"Yeah. Make an appointment."

I smiled and hid my face by smashing it into the pillow. He started drawing circles with his palms again.

"What can she do?" I asked, exasperated.

"Give you advice? Or a pill?"

I couldn't breathe when he got up and started to get undressed.

"You think..." My voice broke so I cleared my throat before I turned on my back and looked at his broad back, treading carefully, "you think some pills would help?"

"I think panic attacks can be helped by a professional." He breathed out these words and threw the uniform in the open dresser.

I looked at the ceiling after he put some sweats on and headed back to the bed.

Made room for him, enjoying the feeling of the cold wall on my left side.

As soon as he lay down, he took my hand in his and kissed my cheek.

I shut my eyes. Saying:

"I tried pills before and I didn't like how it made me feel."

"Were you sober?"

"Yes and no... but maybe it will help now."

"Did it happen before?"

"Before what?"

"Like...before today?"

I swallowed and smiled. Hoping it would fool him.

"No... Once or twice. But I sometimes feel like I can't breathe right."

I touched my throat as I was still having a hard time breathing, but I could hide it now. The tears stopped and the shaking only affected my legs.

The thought of pills calmed me down.

And I hated that I knew it was because of that thought in particular.

"Must be your anxiety."

I nodded and let him hug and pull me closer to his body.

I welcomed his warmth.

But it was even harder to breathe in his embrace.

"You wouldn't mind if I took pills for my anxiety, right?" I asked as softly as I could. As casually possible. But when he started thinking about it, I could feel my burning desperation for his approval.

"If they make you feel better, and not worse. Then what's the harm?"

"I don't know. There are some side effects."

"Did she know about your addiction problems when she first prescribed them?"

"She kinda did. But I was afraid to take them since I was smoking and I don't know, I took some for depression too and it made me feel... different."

"Isn't that the point?" He chuckled.

"Not different in a good way. Not happy high. Or I don't know...it was as if I could open my eyes wider and sleep better. That's all I remember."

"They're pharmaceuticals. They're not supposed to make you happy high or everyone would be taking them." He joked further, sneaking his hands under my shirt and holding me by the lower back as he nuzzled his face under my neck and kissed my collarbone.

"Yeah...that makes sense," I said.

'So why would I take them then?' I thought.

"Do you feel better?" He asked.

And it dawned on me that I have completely calmed down. Looking forward to the pills and whatever effects they'd have.

'Like a candlelight at the end of the tunnel.'

"Yea."

"Really?"

"Really."

The right hand traveled from my lower back, into my pants and groped my ass a second later.

"Namjoon..." I scolded.

"Hmm?"

I rolled my eyes and mocked:

"You're the one who wanted my body to be in top shape when my parents see me next."

"You're mistaken."

"I don't think I... ah..."

He pulled up the blue and white striped pajama top with one hand and slipped a finger in my pants with the other.

"I said that your skin needs to appear more or less normal when we'll visit your parents, but I didn't say anything about your insides."

"Wait..."

He pushed the finger in and another finger joined right after. He watched me squirm, feeling my cheeks getting warmer as he slipped the other hand from under me and pinched the left nipple.

I fell on my back in my attempt to free my breast, but all that made him do is push the blankets lower, and my pants as well.

He was looking at my erection and I was looking at his hand that went from my ass to jerking me off.

I couldn't look him in the eye.

But I did enjoy it when he started slapping it and whispering in my ear: "You seem to be feeling better..."

I bit the inside of my cheek and let him pull on my foreskin like it was a toy.

"You know, we won't be able to do anything at your brother's house so we can..."

"V will be back soon," I argued.

"V..." He stopped cupping my balls and squeezing them. "He's watching an anime with Jimin right now."

"How do you...ah, know?"

And the fingers went back in as if they never left my insides.

"Because I asked."

I smiled at his honesty and almost wanted to make fun of him, but the third finger hit just the right spot.

Voice barely above a whisper, I turned my head and stared at the wall as I asked: "Then what...are you waiting for?"

I could feel my whole body burning up, but Namjoon only added a fourth finger and started licking my left nipple. Sucking on it. Making sounds with his mouth that I found embarrassing like it was nothing.

I didn't move one muscle. I tried to enjoy it and I was.

If not because he started to know where to touch to make me feel good, but also because no thoughts were able to get in while it was hard not to focus on his ministrations.

He kept biting and licking that one nipple until I had my hand in his hair, slightly pushing him down.

Wishing he'd make me feel even better.

But as if he didn't enjoy that one action that told him what to do, he did go lower, only to turn me towards him entirely.

Lifted my ass to his face and started licking it without touching my cock at all.

"Ah...don't...don't..."

"Why not?"

He sounded truly confused as I hid my face with my hands and left his tongue tickling and teasing my already contracting walls.

The lack of his fingers left me feeling empty, but the shame, as my hard cock faced gravity while my ass was getting pleasured like he was giving head to a woman, had me unable to say anything.

I reached out for the heap of blue hair, but before I got to it, he spoke, breathing against my genitals: "How about I lick your ass until you beg for me to fuck you? That won't leave any marks."

I retracted my hand.

"No. I think that's a bad idea. I don't like...that."

"That's the point."

"No. Just...please...I... Namjoon..."

But no actual words that'd explain how much I wanted anything but that came out. They were all too embarrassing. I could only think them quietly as his tongue kept trying to go in. His lips kept sucking and my mind remained black and my face red.

It didn't take long for him to keep doing that as if he'd never get bored of it and for me to lose it.

"Come on. Stop it...it hurts."

"My tongue is hurting you?"

"No...my..."

"Your what?"

"You know."

"No. Tell me."

I pursed my lips and reached toward my cock hoping he'd let me. But he'd rather stop all he was doing to grab that wrist harshly, saying:

"I didn't say you can show me."

"But...please..." I whined like a child.

Feeling like I was losing my mind from the overstimulation. And the under-stimulation all at once.

He sighed and I actually got angry in that one second.

'What? What did I do wrong?'

"Touch yourself, then."

It didn't feel satisfying when he guided my hand to my hard-on and then let it go to lower his head back to my asshole.

But jerking myself off while he was doing that felt too good for me to ask again.

As I stroked myself, I was more and more aware of his tongue than I was of my own hand. As if that feeling intensified because it was foreign. I thought it was disgusting. But it still felt good.

I orgasmed all over the sheets, underneath myself, before I realized that the last thing I thought about was how unable I felt to grab Namjoon and make him suck me.

And that turned me on.

"Fuck." I swore, letting my hand, drop by my sides.

"What?" He chuckled as he straightened up to look at my face.

"That was good," I said.

'I am starting to think you were right. The things that turn us on are weird...' I thought.

"Don't you want anything else?" He whispered, making circles with his finger against my entrance.

"Just stop with the fingers." I snapped.

"Why? You want something else?" He acted innocent, and I was getting angrier because I knew exactly what he wanted.

"Just..." I breathed through clenched teeth, raising myself so I could reach the bulge in his pants.

I only got to put my hand on it before my wrist was pinned above my head.

"Just what, Jungkook?"

"Aa!" I screamed with exasperation as he started grinning, trashing my head back and forth, "Why do you want to hear me say those words? What's your problem?!"

"I like it when you speak dirty." He admitted with a smile still stretching his lips.

"Why? There's nothing to like. And what's with this mental teasing lately?!"

"What do you mean?"

I started strong, complaining: "Just slap me, bite me, burn me, fucking...fuck me. Just...stop making me say it." And ended up whispering as I looked away from his beaming face, "Just do it.... please.."

"You know I can't because your parents might see a..."

"Do you realize how hard you're gripping my wrist right now? That'll leave a mark."

"It won't."

"It will."

"It..."

"If it will then just do the rest and ah..."

That's as much control as I had lately. Telling him to do me.

He was the one who gave me that control and I wanted to give it back.

In these brief moments, I felt like I had so much power over what was going on.

But as soon as he leaned in, and grabbed the lower half of my face between his calloused fingers to keep it still while he took a bite out of my shoulder that had me moaning and screaming from pain at the same time, I felt a bit grateful because he would at least pretend I'd be able to stop him.

Lately, there have been moments when I wanted to. But they were so quick that I even forgot why they were there, to begin with.

The way the pain would travel from his teeth to my neck and right down my spine.

The way he would part my legs with his knee only to use it to jam it into my lower area.

Still left me wishing: 'Just make me forget I'm alive already.'

Namjoon had been on easy mode for the past three weeks. Three weeks in which he's been hoping, there wouldn't be any visible mark that'd indicate what we were doing behind closed doors. But the lack of marks made him only grow more perverse as he squashed my genitals with his leg and watched me squirm under him, lusting for a proper touch.

I was getting harder due to the pain again and the one bitemark became two on top of one since he'd use the same place to bite again when he'd let go of my wrist to grab my neck instead.

The squeeze was lacking in strength, but it was blocking exactly enough to get me delirious once he'd straightened up, sat on his calves between my legs, looking down at me as if I was his to play with.

And I saw nothing wrong with it.

I enjoyed it. Ashamed or not.

But as he would lower his pants and let me see the dick that I always thought should not fit anywhere, ever. I'd wish I was high.

Even though he'd get the lube and coat himself with it, I'd wish I was high.

As soon as he'd shove it into me and squeeze my neck until I couldn't breathe, but I could feel his dick entering me perfectly, I'd wish I was high.

Cause now that I thought it wasn't so bad to be fucked raw by this man. However, I still thought it'd feel better if I was high.

"Ngt.nn.." I choked on words as he went fully in from one go and chocked on the words again when he opened my mouth with his only free hand and smirked when I'd stick out my tongue as he'd pick up the pace in which he slammed it into me and slipped it back out.

I felt full. Every part of me felt full but I still welcomed the saliva he was dripping into my mouth from above. I tried to swallow it desperately.

When he finally let go of my neck, I knew that meant he wanted to fuck me harder so I gripped the bed instinctively.

And moan and cried as he moved my whole body back and forth with his thrusts.

One slap across the nipples, one small slap across the cheeks, one finger getting buried so deep down my throat that I'd clench my asshole around his dick as if there was any space left to do so.

I felt small under his ever-watching gaze.

He was enjoying my reactions, but not enough to moan.

It's always as if he's feeding on my reactions with his eyes.

So, when I would stop reacting, he'd have to do something else.

As if my moaning because of the way he's fucking me and how big he is it's not enough.

That's a given.

And stopping me from orgasming was fun for him.

Watching me slap his hand off my cock until I'd cry. It's fun.

And slapping me across the face with my own cum on his fingers was also enticing.

I liked it too. I wasn't sure why. But I knew it had to do with the fact that I couldn't think at all.

I could only feel.

I could only moan.

I could only take it.

And he could only give.

It was another sort of high.

So even when his cock would still get rammed inside me and I'd drift off to sleep, I'd be thankful for the distraction.

Thankful for the pain and pleasure.

Thankful for him making me mad by trying to shove move fingers into my asshole, although that'd be impossible.

He's been keeping me on my toes. Making me tired.

It didn't take long for Namjoon's addiction to make complete sense to me.

Firstly, it was legal. Secondly, it was putting a hold on life and thoughts. Thirdly, it was plain to see by V when he walked in on us three hours later when I'd be on my knees, begging for release again.

He walked out and I tried to ignore the embarrassment.

But Namjoon's lack of reaction made it pass easier.

Being under his command in bed was not as embarrassing as relapsing right now.

Friends finding wounds was not as embarrassing either.

It was acceptable. This was acceptable.

Him, choking me halfway to death while fucking me for hours was acceptable.

So, I welcomed it. I craved it often. I wanted it just like he knew I wanted it.

But after he'd cum inside of me and fall asleep after checking for bruises and putting ointment over them before covering us with blankets, I would often stay up, staring at the ceiling despite the exhaustion, and find myself thinking: 'I wish I could smoke right now.'

Then I'd shut my eyes, and dream I would try to.

It was my best well-kept secret since I was born.

These repetitive dreams of me using all kinds of stuff.

But if at first, I'd get to use anything, lately, all I've been dreaming of is me getting the stuff, not being able to use it, or getting caught by someone I shouldn't be caught by. Be it the cops, family, friends, or Namjoon.

The sinking feeling I'd get and the look of disappointment on their face was the real nightmare. And the fact that my own mind forced me to be sober even during that.

It was what woke me up early in the morning and made me want to cry when Namjoon would bring me water or tea as soon as he'd notice I'm awake.

Those feelings of shame, pain, and despair didn't get stuck in the dream world.

No.

I've been carrying them around.

They were helpful because they kept me sober.

But today, of all nights, I dreamed I shouted back at Namjoon, all the reasons why I should be using. That I had free will. My one life. And this is what kept me living it. How the government shouldn't be allowed to dictate what I do or don't do if this was a free world. How I won't change. How our relationship will get better if I am less miserable. How...innocent it was. How it will not happen often. And how many compromises I was willing to make so I could keep using it.

Namjoon didn't care for any of it.

And I woke up as he turned around and left.

'Fuck you too, brain.'

I frowned, facing V's empty bed.

"Namjoon?"

I tried to lift his arm, but he only embraced me tighter in his sleep.

"What time is...." I started but the sun slipping through the cracks of the new curtains answered my questions.

I had no energy to move him. I didn't have any energy to move either.

It was silly somehow. How I had these impulses to move when I was eating only one meal a day since I had lost all appetite and I didn't have it in me to tell Namjoon.

I suspected he's noticed I was eating less, but it wasn't like I could eat much more when he'd order a lot of food and shove it in my mouth like he'd shove his dick.

He was forceful in all kinds of ways and those around us didn't look upon it kindly.

But I knew that if he was a normal human being who'd let me to my own devices, I'd fall apart in a matter of days.

The curse was that although I was tired body-wise, my mind was perfectly well-rested. So well rested that it would keep running as if fueled by a nuclear plant.

'Will my parents notice I can't eat much? Will my mom get worried? Is V upset because he's caught us again? Did he hear me beg? Did he...see me...like that again? Why can't I ask him about it? Should I ask? Where did he sleep? Or maybe it's midday and he's left for something...but for what? I wish I knew what time is it. I wish I could reach the phone. I wish...a... I don't want to move. Can't I go back to sleep? Please, just fall back asleep. I don't want to be awake. I am sick of this. I am so...tired.'

I ended up watching my arm on top of the yellow and blue sheets for at least an hour. Trying to go back to sleep. But all I managed to do was to try to think my way out of having to go see my parents.

By the time Namjoon stretched and moved his leg and arm away from my body, I was drowning in dark thoughts.

"Already awake?" He asked, yawning and getting up from bed without hesitation.

I pulled up the blanket up to my neck and watched him walking, naked, to the water heater.

"Mhm."

"Anything hurting?"

"No... but I am not sitting down."

He got a phone call as he was pouring water into a cup and answering without checking the caller id.

Small things like these made me think we were fundamentally different. And made me wish I could live in his body and mind for one single day.

"Yeah? Just woke up...Why? Right now?...Jungkook?"

I looked at his face as he casually sat down on the bed right next to me.

"Want to have breakfast at the Caffe with the boys in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure," I mumbled.

He caressed my hair and that's when my left nipple decided to start hurting.

"We'll be there. Is anyone else coming? Oh, ok. No, V's not here...I don't know where he is. See you there."

He threw the phone on the bed and caught my ear between his thumbs and pulled.

"Aw, aw!"

"Get up, Jungkook. I need to cover your neck with concealer and we only got like ten minutes."

"If you'd let go of my ear, I would."

"Fine."

He let go and then watched me cover my head with the blanket.

"Are you being cute or you don't want to go?" He questioned my intentions, caressing what I am sure he knew was my waist and the side of my hip through the blanket.

"I want to go..."

"Then you want me to finish in ten minutes or..."

"I am not trying to lure you into morning sex, Namjoon," I stated with annoyance.

"Then why are you not getting dressed?"

"It's cold." I lied.

"It's cold, my ass." He mumbled, grabbed the edge of the blanket, and threw it off the bed, leaving me stark naked, in the fetal position, right beside him.

I hid my front further, but he simply used my shoulder to turn me on my back and as I was struggling to make him stop looking at my body with light fists and shoves, I could do nothing but wait as he took in whatever marks he's done yesterday before his eyes traveled down on my morning wood.

"Ah, that was the problem." He concluded.

"Shut up."

"Well, we don't have time for me. But for you, five is plenty."

"I don't want to, just give me the clothes."

"Are you sure?"

He gave my cock a tug and then let it go.

And though I looked down at my crotch, I caught him staring straight at my face which probably contradicted my words.

"Get dressed!" I yelled at him and pushed the hand that was holding my shoulder down away. I almost escaped when with one short shove, I was back on the mattress.

"What?" I snapped. " We don't have time and I am sore all over and, it's just because it's morning and I don't feel like it right now. Ok?"

"You've lost more weight."

My lips parted and closed. Unable to refute the evidence that was my body.

But I did try to get out of what he was saying: "From yesterday until today? If that is possible, we'll become rich off the research they'll do on my metabolism."

"You looked the same yesterday." He said, accusatorily, and pinched my other nipple since he knew manhandling me will get me mad.

And I kept falling into his traps like I wasn't aware of them. For no reason besides that, I wanted to get out of this topic like a drowning person needs to come up for air.

"You didn't seem to care yesterday!"

"I did care, Jungkook but you were already...I wanted to distract you, not, make you feel worse."

"Feel worse about what?! I am eating!"

"You don't look like it!"

"I eat with you every single day!"

I screamed as his face lowered and he screamed in mine: "You eat bullshit! You eat to survive!"

"And I am! Surviving..."

The closer he got, the lower my volume was.

He was staring straight into my eyes. It made me feel vulnerable in a way that was similar to when we were having sex, but in another way, it was much, much worse.

"You want me to track your calories?"

That one question had me swallowing whatever saliva I had.

"Look, Namjoon. I have no appetite."

'Why am I telling you this? Why am I shaking? Why are you looking like that at me?'

"Because?"

"I... don't know."

I averted my eyes since I couldn't take it anymore.

It was as if he could see everything. Like he knew everything but simply choose when to tell me what he already knew.

And when he got up and walked to the closet to get me some clothes. I almost wanted him to come back and touch me.

Instead, what I got was a slap in the chest and face with my own clothes.

"Get ready. Where's the concealer?"

"In the upper drawer," I responded in a deadpan tone.

He watched me get dressed without leaving the bed.

He didn't give me any underwear and breathed on my neck as he applied the concealer while I was sitting on the bed with him, sitting beside me.

After he deemed that nothing could be seen, he wanted to get up, but I caught the hem of the hoodie and looked straight into his eyes when he turned to face me, confused.

He sat back down and asked: "What do you want?"

It was a cold question. But it made me have the guts to guide his hands between my legs.

"You'll get the pants dirty." He argued.

And I rubbed myself against his hand, filled with shame.

He smirked and pulled on the soft pants only to let my genitals hang out between the blouse and the hem of the pants.

He looked at it while I kissed the side of his neck and kept myself on my knees by hanging on his shoulders.

In that awkward position, without his body facing V's bed, he grabbed my cock and jerked it as if he wanted to pull it out of my body.

I moaned in his ear and kissed his cheek and neck to keep him going.

His other hand was still on the bed, feet on the ground, and his eyes fixated on the swollen thing between my legs.

His every pull and stroke had me shaking as I felt warmth and hunger in my stomach.

"Stop moaning like that..." He mumbled as I licked the skin behind his ear.

"Wha...ay?"

"We're supposed to only be finishing you."

He stated and pushed me flat on the bed as he remained in the same position.

I didn't like how he simply looked while I couldn't breathe normally, bucking my hips, arching my back, and covering my mouth.

But it was when he twisted my cock all of a sudden and I moaned louder that he licked his lips, and I orgasmed a second later.

I saw nothing but the ceiling that didn't register as anything while the muscles contracted and his hand kept squeezing the cum out of me like it was toothpaste out of a tube.

When I looked down, he showed me that it was all in his hand somehow.

I smiled, still euphoric.

"None on the pants."

"Good," I mumbled.

And watched him bring the cum filled hand to my lips.

"Eat it."

I swallowed and obeyed.

Tried to ignore the burning gaze as he watched me lick it up to his hand and swallow it.

I didn't know why I was doing it either, but for some reason, refusing him has never crossed my mind when he looked at me like that.

I couldn't tell if it was lust or fear that made me swallow my cum.

But I did get turned on every time he couldn't take it anymore, so he had to kiss me right after.

The bad part was that as soon as our tongues started mingling, the phone started ringing.

"Nam..."

"Leave it."

He was taking my pants off completely while kissing me and I could do nothing but catch my breath when he pulled back to lower himself as well.

My mind drew a blank when he turned me over, pulled me closer by the leg, and shoved it in me like it was nothing.

I cried out.

The ringing stopped.

Like I've turned him on too much.

And with no lube, I could feel his form too well.

The sound of his dick slamming into me as he kept his hands on each side of my arms was drowned out only by my desperate moans.

The dry skin rubbing against dry skin got a bit too painful, so I tried to pull myself away a bit, but that got him to sit on his calves, lift my ass and slap it as he continued fucking me with less space between us than before.

I kept making the sound 'A' through cries, in tandem with his thrusts as the whole bed and my body was moving along with him.

The phone started ringing again.

But I didn't have the energy to point that out and soon enough, it was a background sound that kept repeating, that I couldn't even hear as he fucked me harder and faster, until I was sure I'll break in half.

I came without touching myself. Hell, I came only as my cock dangled between my legs back and forth.

And got slapped for it until my ass was burning.

He did nothing but shove it in and out until on the 48'th missed call, he pulled it out, and grabbed my hair until my face was face to face with his dick.

I opened my mouth and let it go in.

He held my head still and pushed it in and out of my mouth as if it was just another hole.

My throat hurt, my stomach turned as he shoved it in too deep and my lips burned from the friction.

I could feel my lips tearing as his girth bothered me greatly.

I choked and cried as I pathetically, kept my hands on each side of his hips as I could push him away.

'Tap twice when you want me to stop.' He said.

But I didn't want him to stop.

I wanted to choke.

I wanted to suffocate.

But my mouth was not enough for him so he pulled out and pushed me back on the bed. Lifted my legs and shoved himself back inside me with a saliva-coated cockhead.

I cried more than I moaned, with my legs blocking half of his face. His dick hit the end of me and then pulled out to thrust into my pucker again and again. My legs fell on his shoulders as I couldn't keep holding them up and he let them go so he could grab my cock and balls to block any cum.

My moans echoed on the walls as he pushed me up to his thighs so there was less space between his dick and my ass. I could feel it twitching inside me when Namjoon let go of my cock, and pinched my nipple only to grab my chin and push it down. I stuck my tongue out, and he caught it between his fingers and pulled on it, then shoved his fingers in and fucked the walls of my throat with them. Tears slid out as he quickened his pace and slapped my cheeks.

But as the acid in my stomach was going up and down, he pulled out and shoved my legs to the left side so he could advance and bring my mouth to his genitals. He didn't even wait for me to open my mouth and thrust it in as if it was natural. He thrust so deeply that I accidentally swallowed, closing all muscles around his dick as he shoved it until I could feel his balls on my chin. He shot his load right down my burning throat and I just swallowed and kept swallowing as the phone kept ringing.

My eyes were stinging, filled with tears, and bulging out.

He kept holding me up by my hair when he pulled it out and watched me trying to catch my breath with my mouth still wide open and my lips swollen. I was exhausted but he seemed ready to go again, so I reminded him:

"We need to hurry,"

"...Jungkook...." He said in a worried tone.

"Huh?"

"Didn't it hurt too much?"

"Why?" I asked, raspy.

"Your lips and your voice are..."

"It's fine."

He was the one to wipe the tears and saliva from my face. He was the one who re-applied concealer, who applied colored lip balm on my lips to cover up the redness that he created. He was the one who combed my hair as he called back whoever has called more than 50 times.

I simply stood still.

Feeling somewhat content.

Until I heard V screaming at Namjoon through the phone:

"Where are you two!?"

"We...still in the dorm."

"AGAIN?! ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS?"

"Calm down. We're coming now."

"...three hours later!"

Namjoon hung up on him and sighed, looking at me with something that I didn't think was guilt, but more so, a: I did it again.

So, I smiled and placed a peck on his lips.

He smiled too, slightly reassured.

"You heard the man. Let's go."

I nodded. And followed him off the bed and out of the room with nothing but the keys on me.

Namjoon walked slower because of me, but I was thankful that he didn't leave me far behind as I floated out of the building, through the campus grounds, and out in the street overseeing the Caffe.

Inside it, we found not only V and Jimin but Martin and Dwayne at the table. Turning to look at us angrily as soon as we walked in.

"Look who is gracing us with their presence." V mocked, and I guessed, that's why, Namjoon sat right next to him, lips in a straight line.

As I was going to the other side of the table where Dwayne was half-eyeing the phone, half me. I saw that Namjoon pinched V's leg before the man started complaining about it.

"Stop it! How many times did I tell you to stop doing that?!"

"Tae. They'll throw us out." Jimin reminded him flatly.

"That's right V, we can have this talk as adults." Martin seconded him. Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

"Talk about what?" I asked before he did it.

"You two." Dwayne simply said, putting his phone screen facing down for once.

I gulped.

"What about us?" Namjoon crossed his arms and yet, still motioned for the waitress as she was passing by.

"I'd like an iced americano. And for him, a sandwich, a chocolate croissant, and a hot chocolate."

"Right away."

I wanted to sigh at the order, but Jimin did it for me.

"Why don't you let Him order?" The pink-haired guy asked pointing at me.

"Because he'll order only water." Namjoon snapped at him.

"And?" Dwayne pitched in, tilting his head.

"And he needs to eat more. Just, trust me. I know what I am doing."

"We do trust you, Namjoon," Martin said softly, only to raise one finger that V pushed down.

Speaking harshly and quite unsurprisingly, at the end of his wits: "But you're full of shit. After all, he's lost weight because you guys do it like animals all the time. But I don't care. I stopped caring about it. What I care about is my sleep or lack thereof, so you either fix the frequency in which you...two..." He sighed and slapped the table. "You either go back to sleeping in Jimin's room or I will sleep in your bed from now on."

My lips parted, seeing Jimin's downcast expression. But nothing came out as I heard Namjoon, saying, unbothered: "Go ahead. I told you to go and sleep in the same room numerous times before."

"Namjoon. If the teachers find out..." Jimin started arguing, but Namjoon waved that worry away.

"Did any of them come to check on who's sleeping in who's room until now? At least once?"

"No, but..."

"Then it's settled. V sleeps in my bed. And I'll sleep in his. Everyone's happy?"

"Wait for a second," I whispered, almost too quiet because of my hurting throat when two plates and a white steaming cup were placed before me. "Thank you," I told the woman. Yet eyed the food with hidden disgust.

"That was not the main problem." Dwayne pointed out to the group. And Namjoon took a sip of his coffee, looking slightly aggravated.

"Right," Jimin said softly, picking up his cup, avoiding looking at Taehyung when he interrupted whatever he was about to say.

"It's about you two not hanging out with us anymore. When we call, you both say you'll come and if you do, it's either too many hours later or not at all. And don't give me any bullshit excuse Namjoon. At least be honest, you two are too busy screwi..."

I was ready to get up in fear that Namjoon will punch Taehyung in the face, but he simply wiped his mouth and sighed.

Then said: "Sorry. We'll do better."

It was clear that not one person at that table expected that.

And I was one of them.

With the ammunition taken out of their guns, the table was quiet for a bit.

Martin broke the silence: "We have nothing against you two dating. It's just that it feels like we're forcing you two to hang out with us lately."

"I know. It's my fault. I'll...try to do better."

Martin nodded, as Dwayne explained further: "At least twice a week? Like we used to. We've finished that show you guys didn't like. Maybe we can pick something that everyone will enjoy this time."

"Yeah. Like that one with the murderer in a law firm." V suggested.

"Or there's one about robbers..."

I stopped hearing whatever show Jimin was pitching as soon as Namjoon turned his glance from him, at the end of the table, by the window, and to me, who was at the edge of the table, perfectly still, with an untouched pastry, a sandwich, and hot cocoa before me.

It was chilling.

It reminded me of the eyes he had when he said I owe him my life.

I looked down, immediately.

And reached for the croissant with a controlled, steady hand. I took a bite while they were all still chatting. I even heard Namjoon laugh, but I could still feel it. No one else at that table was looking at me for more than five seconds, but when Namjoon did it, I could feel a chill down my back. Like an electrifying heaviness.

It was making me feel guilty.

Making me feel small.

Made me want him to do something to me so I wouldn't feel like I was unworthy of his caring attention.

I was chewing robotically. Without tasting a thing, but the dryness of my throat until I heard my name being called by Jimin: "Jungkook? Are you alright?"

I lightly coughed and smiled, putting the pastry down, and blaming it.

"Yeah, why?"

"You haven't said a thing since you sat down." Martin pointed out.

"I am just..." I looked at Namjoon and the buzz around us died. It was as if it was just me and him. Whatever I was about to say next, shouldn't have been the word tired, but I had no way else to explain it. "Hungry."

"Oh, ok," Jimin mumbled, taking a sip of his drink.

Tae, on the other hand, took this moment to ask: "Are you comfortable with us no longer being roommates? I mean, we technically are but you know what I mean."

I couldn't help but glance at Namjoon, trying to read his face.

But I couldn't in all honesty tell them that I thought Taehyung was preventing us from doing it more because I didn't know that to be true. However, I couldn't help but pick up on the other person's facial expression.

"Why are you asking me? Ask Jimin."

Jimin's hands went up and a forced grin emerged.

"I am fine with it."

"Are you?" I pushed the note further.

"Yes. Tae and I have been spending a lot of time together due to your...nightly dates and I am confident we'll be good roommates."

"Hmm..." I let this sound hang in the air. Full of disbelief.

I was feeling good about myself after disturbing their little peace until I locked eyes with Namjoon by mistake. Namjoon, who looked me dead in the eyes and then down at the sandwich.

I picked it up immediately.

He said: "Look. The two of you can try living in the same room while we're gone. You two aren't leaving the campus, right?"

"Nah." V put his head in his hand and grunted. "I don't want to go home at all."

"I am not in the mood to get scolded for my grades, thank you very much," Jimin said, with a similar vibe.

"Then it's settled," Martin exclaimed, clapping his hands. "We'll compile a list of shows and Namjoon and Jungkook will pick one when they return."

"We?" Dwayne asked, with indignation.

"Yes, we. We'll all make a list."

"Wouldn't it be better if the two of them make a list and we pick?" Dwayne asked and Martin looked like he couldn't process what he had just said.

"When are you two leaving?" Jimin asked and Namjoon shrugged.

"Tomorrow morning? In the afternoon at the latest? Why?"

"Just asking."

I raised my hand a bit. That got everyone's attention, but it was only Namjoon I cared about to hear when I said, quite embarrassed right now: "I'm...going to the bathroom."

"I'll come with you," Jimin said, getting up.

None talked as we walked away.

It was only when it was just the two of us in the black-tiled bathroom that Jimin spoke again.

"How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean? I am great."

"Jungkook. I know what you're going through. You can talk to me."

"Really? How so?" I ironically inquired.

"I've quit before too, but that didn't mean that I mentally wasn't using. If you know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean."

I walked towards the stall, deeming this conversation done, but he followed me.

"I kept thinking about it. Ways I could get it. How if only I could do it just once more...and everything would be alright."

I touched the stall but didn't push on the door since he was looking straight at me.

However, this was not Namjoon, so it was so easy to say: "I don't think everything will be alright if I do it just once, Jimin."

"I am glad you know it because I didn't, so I relapsed, more than once and every time, the magic of it died. I realized that I was feeling worse, but it was...familiar. Comfortable to feel bad. You know?"

"No. I don't." I spat.

"I'm just saying that..."

"Stop projecting onto me, Jimin. I'm fine."

I pushed on the stall, got in, and locked it up. But I still heard him mumbling: "If you say so..."

He didn't use the restroom, but I didn't need to either.

I got in just to have a break from the people and the eating.

And he probably knew that after I flushed the toilet. Yet no other sound than my breathing was heard before that.

'So annoying...'

When I got out, he was waiting by the sinks. Back against the wall, arms crossed.

I didn't say a word as I walked next to him and washed my hands.

But he couldn't shut up, he never could.

"Is it working for you? Replacing weed with sex?"

I didn't answer because I couldn't find one sentence that wasn't filled with rage.

"Or is the sleep after? Do you like passing out?" He went on.

"You don't like sleeping Jimin? Life must be hard for you." I mocked with a smile, but his words stopped me dead in my tracks.

Unlike Namjoon, he didn't have to grab my arm. He used his foul mouth first.

"I saw it. When you've fainted."

I smiled and dug my nails into my palms.

And with a low, guttural tone, I asked:

"Why won't you mind your own business?"

"Namjoon and I are friends. So, I care about whoever he cares about."

I swiftly turned to face him and held myself back from shouting, so I just threw the words out through clenched teeth instead:

"Aren't you the best friend anyone could have? Or are you, maybe, just keeping yourself sober by butting into everyone's business?"

He shook his head slowly with a chuckle that sounded like he pitied me.

My stomach turned.

"Being a good friend, a good lover, feeling stuff, caring about people ...Jungkook that's as close as you're even going to get to that high. But it seems you're not there yet, and, I, I understand.

He patted my shoulder and passed me by.

"But try not to hurt Namjoon more than you've already had. After all, he really loves you."

'And I don't?'

I didn't dare ask that.

Watching him walk out first.

Losing control of my breath in the silence of the bathroom.

'I'm the one messing him up? I'm the one who...well...I am. Aren't I? Or at least all that I want is. But I don't want to hurt him. But I won't do it. It won't hurt him much anyway? Or...will it?'

I was still pondering on burning waters that I knew I shouldn't be swimming in when I sat back down at the rowdy table.

"I'm telling you that you'll like anime after you try it," V argued loudly.

"And I am telling you that I saw what you're watching and I am not interested in little girls with powers that chant nonsense," Namjoon assured him.

"Everyone should make a list of anime, games, and whatever else," Martin begged. "There's no point to explain it without a trailer."

"I know a game we can all play since it's online," I suggested.

"We don't have enough computers though." And Namjoon shut my idea down too.

"Why don't we go watch a movie, like in a movie theatre?" Martin asked.

Dwayne liked the sound of that so he smiled, saying: "Pick up some chicks too."

Jimin frowned, saying: "How does one pick up girls in a dark room where everyone is looking at a screen?"

"You stop looking at the screen and you start looking around," Dwayne said smirking.

Jimin shook his head. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Let's just agree to meet together twice every week now and we'll figure out what to do when the day comes," Namjoon suggested, sounding tired.

"Unless it's during an exam period," Jimin added.

"Naturally." Taehyung scoffed, shutting his eyes like not only that went without saying, but like he couldn't bear thinking about those periods.

I was nibbling on the sandwich as they went back on forth on what they were going to do after the one-week break.

But I couldn't care less. And I didn't want to care 'cause all I saw when Namjoon and I locked eyes was the thing I couldn't request that we'd all do: 'Let's find a dealer and smoke before we do any of that stuff.'

I swallowed a morsel of bread and looked away.

That's when I heard Martin yelling at Namjoon: "Help us! I'll pay you! No...my mom will pay you more than you're earning now."

Namjoon laughed.

Dwayne tried to explain how serious he was as well: "Me too. I swear. You can quit your job and just tutor us during the dark times!"

"But you two didn't fail at anything." Namjoon pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. Cause my mom wants me to pass. Not ...excel!"Martin said darkly, slapping his forehead.

"We'll talk about it again when the time comes." And Namjoon successfully avoided making any definite promise two times in a row.

And half an hour later, when Jimin was talking about the frappuccino he's found in a little shop by the hairdressers, Namjoon cut his wind and made him go quiet with his tone alone.

"Jungkook."

"Hm?"

"Why are you so quiet today?"

"My throat hurts."

That went over everyone's head except Namjoon's, who didn't say anything else after. The others found that interesting again after it was pointed out.

"He's right." Tae said, "You've been zoning out the entire time."

"I agree with everything you guys have said. What do you want me to say?"

"A... anything?" Dwayne suggested.

I looked down at the still-unfinished sandwich, hoping they'd drop the subject. But Jimin had to say: "It's been like two weeks since you've started being this quiet. Or maybe three. Did something happen?"

"No."

'Yes.'

"Are you sure?" Namjoon asked.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, elongating the word to convince them.

'No.' I thought.

They did leave me alone after two more minutes of relentless, unasked-for, support, and encouragement.

But Namjoon's face grew darker and darker by the minute.

I hoped I was imagining it until I realized that he too fell silent and let them do most of the talking.

By the time we were back in the dorm room, packing for tomorrow, we haven't said one word and the sun was going down.

We both took a shower, had some leftover takeout, and as I was trying to fall asleep in his embrace, I couldn't help but wonder how Jimin saw me faint. And how I didn't see him after I opened my eyes.

'And if he saw me faint, did he tell Namjoon? And if he did, is Namjoon pretending not to know or forcing me to eat because he thinks it's because of a lack of nutrients? Or...aa....fucking Jimin. I swear...that guy...is so annoying.'

Morning came and morning went.

It was barely 11 AM and we were halfway back home.

The busses went smoothly from point A to point B. And the scenery changed dramatically in only a few hours of sitting down.

We got to Jung's and his fiancée's place in the middle of the afternoon.

We were both a bit tired, hungry, and cranky.

"Sit down, sit down. I'll take care of it." My mom told Namjoon as soon as he saw him trying to find a place for the luggage that was out of everyone's way.

Father and I hugged. But besides that, they were all too busy talking about what needed to be done with the apartment. About how long until the baby was born and what pregnancy felt like. And what cravings she's had until now.

When Namjoon asked her whether she has had a conception dream before she knew or after she got pregnant, I quietly excused myself and walked over to the kitchen where mom was cooking.

"What do you need, my son?" She sang while flipping over some meat.

"Booze," I replied, a bit too honest. A bit too desperate.

Her hand stopped moving.

But I couldn't bring myself to care enough to say anything but: "You're drinking too."

"You are an adult now. I am sure you can drink responsibly." She sang again as I opened the fridge and picked the first beer I saw.

"I am so responsible that I made my own appointment with the demon lord."

"Who?"

"Mental health professional." I enunciated every word with boredom and took a big gulp of the cold beer. Wishing I could get drunk just from that.

"If you don't want to go, why did you make it?"

"Who said I didn't want to go?"

"Then why are you drinking beer like it's water in the middle of the afternoon?"

I blinked a couple of times before saying: "No reason."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"What paradise, mom?"

"Youth is paradise."

"Youth is the period between having dreams and giving up on your dreams. I hardly think that's paradise."

"My son thinks I've given up on my dreams because I'm old now? Is that what I am hearing?"

The indignation was apparent, but the sizzling of the meat continued.

"No. I think that after the initial appeal of achieving your dream, or after not achieving it and coming to terms with reality...that you simply feel better about whatever living is. Maybe..."

"University does not agree with you I see."

"Oh, no. Uni's fine. It's great. It's..."

"Jungkook?"

Namjoon voice had me lowering the almost empty can of beer, wishing that it'd disappear into another dimension if I would've dropped it.

"He's drowning his youthful sorrows Namjoon. Don't let him drag you down."

Namjoon smiled politely at her while he glanced at the bear once and then politely told me: "Your brother wanted to take a picture with you on the veranda. Like a before and after being married mugshot. His words, not mine."

"Tell him I am coming in a bit."

He nodded. And hesitantly went back.

"That's a nice youthful man right there...." Mom said, pointing at the space Namjoon has occupied a moment ago.

"Aha. What did you mean by: don't let him drag you down?"

"I merely meant that you seem to be in a delicate mood and he's more..."

"He's willingly paying attention to the stuff he doesn't care about, that's it. He's an angel then. Isn't he? And I just want a drink. How does that drag him down though?!"

"Honey..." She turned around, leaving the meat be.

However, I wasn't ready for her worried expression, so I abandoned the can on the table, opened the fridge, and took another one while she said: "I didn't mean any harm. I was simply making a joke..."

"Well, it was a bad joke."

"Jungkook, if anything is bothering you then you know you can tell me. I can help and..."

Whatever she said next was white noise in my ears.

Their voices all collectively turned into an annoying buzzing sound for the rest of the night.

I downed beer after beer and although I was offered a glass of water after every passing hour, no one outright stopped me.

I smiled at the pictures. Ate mom's meat. And ate dessert even. I was nauseous but I kept drinking.

By the time my stomach was too full for any more liquid, Namjoon hadn't brought it up and I was successfully numb and dizzy.

"Do you want to sleep by the wall?" He asked.

'Or maybe I'm imagining it and he's not upset?'

"Either is fine."

"You'll sleep by the wall then."

"Namjoon?"

"Hm?"

"Are you upset with me?"

"No. Why?"

"Just...asking."

"When's your appointment?"

"The day after tomorrow."

He nodded and turned off the light while I was still sitting on an armchair.

"Get some sleep." He told me as he moved the pillows and the covers around.

"You're tired?"

"You're not?"

"Not...really."

"Then go watch some tv in the living room."

He went under the covers by himself and shut his eyes.

I watched him in silence for a bit and only then said a small: "Ok."

And walked out of the room, slightly puzzled by his behavior.

'Maybe he's really tired or upset with me. Either way...'

I flipped channel after channel, but even if I was sitting on a leather couch, watching a big screen tv with my feet on a soft white rug. With a long window at my left that overlooked a small park, I still couldn't help but feel miserable.

Nothing looked interesting on Tv. Nothing made me stop and pause to take any information in. It was white noise that wasn't good enough to make me feel less of what I was already feeling.

I tiptoed to the kitchen through the dark hallway and when I turned the lights on because I didn't trust myself to get to the fridge without hitting something as I was taken aback by the light.

The bulb was making a buzzing sound too.

I opened the fridge to get one more beer that'd hopefully knock me out. But then I saw the cakes that were left and took those out too.

I started with two. Trying to pay attention to a stand-up comedian that was not funny, but redundant.

I changed the channel and got the rest of the cakes.

I ate those too, which sobered me up a little. So, I poured myself a glass of red wine.

And as I was putting back the bottle, a whiff of the leftover meat got to me.

I had two pieces while I was criticizing a movie that was so predictable, that I wanted to smash the screen.

I made myself a sandwich. Then had some ice cream. One more beer. Too much food soaked it all up. But I still had some chocolate that my father brought for me from a trip. I had the whole box after accepting that I couldn't stop eating. Had them all with two glasses of wine.

By the time I finished all the leftover meat, I was feeling stuffed but still empty. Drunk but not drunk enough to not be aware.

'Didn't they say we'll eat the meat at breakfast, well.... they won't be upset if they see it's all...gone, right?'

I felt guilty, so I drank some more and had more ice cream. Flipped the channels and when the darkness of the night wasn't there to conceal the low table that had containers and bottles all over it.

I panicked.

Not only that, but I was hyperventilating. Ran from the living room to the kitchen to throw everything away.

As if they couldn't see it in the trash.

I kept stuffing everything down in the overloaded trashcan. Feeling anything but tired.

I tried to not cry when the containers wouldn't stay flat and instead, would keep popping back up like stubborn whack-a-moles.

When mom found me in the morning, waiting for the last drop of wine to hit an empty glass, I knew I had to face the fact that I'd fucked up.

"Couldn't...sleep?" She asked softly.

"No."

"Honey...what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you drinking alone?"

"I couldn't fall asleep."

"Maybe you're hungry. Let me fix you up some..."

"Don't bother. I have already eaten all the meat, and cakes. And... I ate a lot. I am sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" She chuckled, tightening up her robe. But her eyes remained worried and her brows furrowed.

"I was hungry."

"One time, when your father and I got drunk on whiskey, I had a whole carton of milk, a tub of ice cream, and twenty chocolate chip cookies. Don't think I don't understand where you're coming from."

"Do you?"

I sounded judgmental when I didn't mean to but at this point, I wanted to disappear entirely.

"Jungkook. Whatever's bothering you, I assure you that you're not alone."

"Great..." I mumbled under my breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I got up as soon as I put the bottle down, giving up on any more drops.

"There's nothing to talk about. I just feel bad for no reason..."

"There's always a reason."

"And I am telling you there isn't!"

"If you can't find the root or you can't recognize the root of the problem, doesn't mean there isn't one."

"Yeah. Mom. That's it. I am incapable; therefore, I deserve to suffer."

"That's not what..."

"Goodnight."

"But it's...morning."

I stormed off to the bedroom where Namjoon was sleeping like a baby.

Pondering on how I should get into bed without waking him up. As I was lowering my knee with the speed of a snail on the mattress.

I thought: 'Fantastic.'

Ran out and then took several precious seconds to figure out where they said the bathroom was before I opened the right door and shut it down a bit too loudly.

"Jungkook? Are you feeling sick?" Mom asked after the locked door as I kneeled in front of the toilet and waited for the wine to rise to my throat on its own.

"I am fine!" I yelled back.

"Let me see that you're fine..."

"I'll puke it out!"

"Jungkook, let me see you. Please."

"I'll puke it out and go to sleep! Stop exaggerating!"

And then from all the things I thought I'll hear mom say, this was not one of them: "Namjoon...wait...he's..."

A loud bang on the door shook me to my core.

Hands trembled on the white toilet seat. And when the second bang echoed in the bathroom, I rose to my feet. Not entirely sober. More nauseous. But suddenly, whatever haze I have fallen into dissipated. And the sound of the third bang was crisp as the key fell from the keyhole right onto the floor.

Namjoon didn't yell like mom. He didn't sound worried at all. He calmly demanded: "Jungkook. Open the door."

And without any reason that I could pinpoint, walked to the door, picked the key up, and then unlocked it.

I couldn't bear to look at his face, so I stared down as he walked past me and closed the door after saying something to my mom so quietly, that I couldn't hear it.

Mom not only left, but she didn't yell anything after Namjoon has locked the door while I was still staring at it.

I stood still.

Feeling afraid.

And while I was telling myself that Namjoon would never hurt me, I felt like he should.

And when I dared to look up for a moment, I felt like he really would've if there was no one else but us in this apartment.

"How much did you drink?"

He asked, stepping up to me. Towering over me with his presence and height. And I continued to look down, petrified.

"I asked you something."

"I ate a lot, so it all got soaked up. I didn't notice and..."

He cut me off.

"How much did you drink and eat?"

"One bottle of wine, five beers, I think? And all the leftovers from yesterday. Aa... some ice cream that was probably not for us. The chocolate dad has gifted me and, I think something else too, but I can't...remember."

He grabbed my chin so I'd look at him. But I shut my eyes. Ready for something to hurt.

"Why did you talk to your mom like that?"

"Huh?"

My eyes snapped open and I was met with eyes that were similar to moms. A bit madder, but just as concerned.

"She wanted to see that you're fine. Was that a wish you really couldn't fulfill?" He went on.

"I... sorry...I was about to throw up so, I didn't want her to...see."

"You think she's never seen someone throw up?"

"I didn't want her to see...me." I rephrased.

He let go of my chin and hugged me.

I stood as I got struck by lightning.

"Namjoon?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you upset with me?"

"Why would I be?"

"Because I've drank one bottle of wine and five beers. Ate everything and..."

"You were not feeling well. And when want to talk about it, I'll listen. But try not to sadden your mom, ok? Think of her feelings too."

"Oh...ok."

I hugged him back once his arms wrapped around me, not knowing what else to do.

He rubbed my back as I was throwing up.

Watched me wash my face and brush my teeth more than twice.

Continued to silently stare and help me up.

And when we got out of the bathroom and I went to apologize to mom, all I was thinking was: 'I wish he would've gotten mad. I wish...I wish he would've hurt me. I wish he'd stop being so understanding.'

"You don't need to apologize to me, Jungkook."

"No, mom. It's not your fault I'm being stupid..."

She snapped her fingers and I finally looked at her face after more than two seconds ever since my arrival.

"Go and apologize to Namjoon."

"...why?"

"What do you mean, why? He turned pale the second he realized that you've locked yourself in. He looked like he was ready to tear down the door."

"Oh, That's...he's a bit...I...a..."

"Go talk with him. Sleep for a few hours and we'll talk after. Alright?"

"Alright..."

I walked back to the bedroom, dumbfounded.

Found Namjoon on the bed, on his phone.

And I sat next to him and said a simple, yet confused: "Sorry."

"About?"

"I scared you?"

He smiled and put the phone aside, opening up his arms. I didn't react for a second. But put my head on his chest and let his arms wrap around me after.

He kissed my head and said: "Try and sleep."

"I don't think I can."

"Why not?"

"I am not tired."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"Nothing. I want...absolutely nothing."

I ate breakfast with everyone like I hadn't eaten half of what was in the fridge during the night.

I laughed at dad's bad jokes. And did everything in my power to assure mom that I was fine. In fact, the more tired I was, the better I was feeling.

Sneaked some cups of beer here and there, but I still wasn't as drunk as I wanted to be.

And when they were all dressed, ready to go out to eat at a fancy restaurant, I turned on my heel and said: "I think I'll stay behind."

"You don't want to eat with us?" Mom asked so softly that I could feel the lump in my throat that formed a second later.

Unable to swallow it.

"No. I haven't slept much so I think I'll go to sleep."

"Now?" Jung asked.

"Yeah. You guys go."

"Then I won't go either." Namjoon suddenly said which got Jung to look at him weirdly and mom smiling as he patted his shoulder.

"He's only going to sleep, Namjoon. Let's let him get some rest."

I nodded and waved.

Namjoon eyed me suspiciously, but after they all fought back on him staying behind to watch me sleep. After many logical arguments he couldn't refute, he walked out with them.

And I was all alone.

Not only was I full of adrenaline, but I had the worst idea buzzing in my mind like a mosquito that was set to get me.

One that I could either put into practice very fast or it would fail. Or one that I should stop thinking about before Namjoon would truly go from supporting me to a real, true pleasure-free punishment.

But as I was fidgeting with the phone while looking at the screen I couldn't hear or see. I felt the air growing thicker. My eyes felt cracked. Blinded by the light.

Everything was too fast.

The speech of the actors. The air itself. My heart beats and my thoughts.

I wanted to escape.

I wanted to relax.

I wanted to forget where I was and who I was.

So, I called the one dealer that had nothing to do with Namjoon like one calls 911 after they realize they're dying.

"Hello? Who is it?"

"Hi, it's me. Jeon Jungkook."

"Aa...who?"

"I got stuff from you once or twice many months ago. More than seven...a...my coworker recommended you. I used to work at that small store on..."

"On the purple street! Yeah, I remember you. What's up?"

"Can you...spot me some?"

"How much?"

"Just a bit."

"What's a bit?"

"For just one cigarette."

"That trip wouldn't be worth my time."

"Fine, just 1 gram then."

He sighed.

"Where?"

"Do you know the area with.."

Half an hour later, I was downstairs with a hoodie on. Trying to stop my legs from shaking by the supermarket.

I kept looking right and left as if I was expecting to get attacked.

And in a way. I was.

The guy showed up, and to my dismay, he started asking questions after I gave him the money and he gave me the smallest bag.

And as I was walking in the opposite direction from where he came from, hoping he'd get the message, he kept asking questions:

"Did you move?"

"Yeah. For university."

"Cool. Here for a break?"

"Yeah. Thank you so much by the way."

"No problem. But you know that people usually come to me. Not the other way around."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"And how will you do that?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and swiftly turned to see nothing but a smiling, smug face.

"Chill. Man. I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to."

"I'll pay for your cab."

"You think I don't have money?"

"No. I meant it as..."

"I know what you meant."

The silence that followed bothered me. The time I was wasting was bothering me more. But he was the last dealer I knew so I couldn't find it in me to upset him. Therefore, I waited for him to speak.

He did. He said:

"V."

"What about him?"

"Are you friends with him?"

"Depends."

He smirked, and I mimicked it.

"He used to buy sometimes. And then he disappeared."

"He's sober now. He...quit everything."

"Wow. Amazing dude."

"Yeah. Amazing indeed." I mumbled. Bitterly.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"You suddenly call for a small amount, sounding desperate..."

He circled as I squeezed the little bag into the pocket of the hoodie.

"I've quit too. I am just..."

"You don't want anything else besides that? I mean, I am not judging, but it smells. A pill, however, doesn't smell at all."

"No, thanks. Not my cup of tea."

He looked me up and down and the smug smile was back.

"I am just telling you that I have whatever it is you need."

"You already gave me everything that I needed."

"Cool."

"Cool," I repeated.

"See you around then."

"See you."

I didn't move for a bit as he walked away and yet, as soon as I was able to breathe in deeply, I darted toward the apartment complex.

In less than fifteen minutes, I had brought cigarettes and everything else I needed. Not only that but the front door was locked and so was the bathroom as I was hastily putting together a joint with so much instinct that I barely saw the toilet or the weed.

My hands were moving on their own.

It came so naturally.

And the smell was making me dizzy. Orgasmic. Ecstatic.

I cracked the window that was above the toilet. And standing on my tiptoes on top of the toilet's cover, I got my hand and head as out the window as humanly possible. Which was not much at all.

Which made most of the smoke float back into the bathroom. But I tried not to panic because I knew my tolerance must be higher now so as I predicted, after a few hits, I was calm and slow.

Everything was hazy.

Far away and unimportant.

'I remember this. So weird...This...used to be like it always was.'

I smiled to myself for a second before I collected everything and hid it in my backpack. And then opened most of the windows of the house. Not only that but sprayed the bathroom as the last resort.

By the time I could finally relax, thirty minutes have passed, and I'd estimated that I had one more hour at most. Time in which I could do whatever I wanted before they came back and I had to pretend to be asleep.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed the first sweet thing I could find. Walked back to the living room, and choose the channel carefully.

In my serenity, I could almost pay attention to what was happening on the screen but I couldn't laugh.

And the chocolate didn't feel as good as I thought it would.

In fact, it was still there.

The lump in the throat.

The ache in my chest.

The white noise.

The damn white noise was swallowing everything up.

'But I thought...it'd be gone...why do I still feel bad?'

I figured that I didn't smoke enough, but as soon as I got up from the couch, I could barely stand.

I was feeling tired. Heavy. And I could barely see through the bloodshot eyes.

I held myself up using the table and as I was forcing my hand to pick up the remote, the cold air coming from all the open windows made me tremble.

But I couldn't convince myself to shut them, afraid that the smell will be noticeable.

Not only that, but in less than two minutes, I found myself on the floor breathing as if I was drowning.

I couldn't move. Nor could I do anything but remind myself that I had to get the keys out of the keyhole.

I tried to crawl towards it, but out of my mouth, sounds that were like small, brief moans of pain came out and not much movement was achieved.

I'd move for a moment and then let my head fall back down. Breathing more and more shallowly. Finding it hard to swallow any saliva that I usually wouldn't have to think about.

Breathing in itself made my chest hurt. My legs were nonexistent. My hands were powerless.

And seeing, in itself, was now a blurry joke.

"I need to...I need to..."

I kept repeating that to myself and with one last willful push, I crawled the last meter to the door.

I tapped the door with my palm or slapped it as I tried to feel the keys because I didn't have the power to lift my head.

'Am I dying? Can you die from smoke apexification? But I barely had any...This would be nothing usually...why do I... I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Namjoon will know.... they'll know I've failed. They'll know I can't be like them. Why can't I be like them? Why aren't they, like me? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THOSE KEYS?!'

I looked up while holding my breath.

And exhaled as soon as my fingers made contact with the metal.

But my hands slipped down along with the rest of my body as I couldn't do anything but hyperventilate on the floor. Unable to move any body part without pushing myself beyond exhaustion and into the unbearable territory.

'Shit. Shit. I can't move...I can't breathe...I'm dying. I don't want to die like this. Was it laced? Can weed be laced or...no? I know this feeling. I had this when I was sober too. I know it. Right? I'm freaking out. That's it. Why am I freaking out? When did it start...? a..? I think...when I was on the couch and I realized that I am still not happy...or content. I am just as I was before, but weaker. So much weaker.'

This thought sank in and stole my breath away.

I shakily reached towards my throat as I was failing at the simplest task on earth: breathing.

The air remained stuck right in my throat and when the ceiling got dark, I was able to swallow the lump and breathe.

But I was sweating already. Terrified that it might happen again.

'I need to sleep it off. Sleep it off...forget...I need...keys...water. Help...no... I am not allowed to get help.'

I couldn't tell how long it took me to get the keys out and on the table. But it felt like an eternity and a half.

Failed to convince myself to go to the kitchen for at least five minutes of pondering and explaining to myself that it might be the one thing that might help my throat open up.

Walked fast from the kitchen and back to the bedroom. Mainly because that was my last wind.

As soon as I let myself plummet onto the bed and barely got the bottle of water open with my shaky fingers, I took two healthy sips and then watched the bottle fall from the bed to the floor.

Not only did I not reach out on instinct, but my whole body became nothing but one big lung that was struggling to breathe.

There were no muscles. There was no me.

I was just the breath.

And being my breath was hell on earth.

All I did was breathe in and out. Choke on air and try again.

I couldn't even cry.

Lungs had no eyes.

Even when I heard my phone ringing. I couldn't care less.

I kept breathing in deeply and out, hoping, that against all odds, I wasn't dying.

At the same time, wishing I was.

On the other hand, afraid Namjoon will find me like this, and I wouldn't be able to explain.

And as it dawned on me that I forgot to brush my teeth, I panicked but then relaxed.

Thinking: 'Who cares? I might as well just die.'

Right before I fell asleep.

Dreaming something that not only didn't make any sense, but was a dizzying concoction of conversations, smells, and nausea.

Then woke up past midnight next to Namjoon as if I'd just run a marathon.

I looked at him and for a moment, I'd forgotten all about what happened earlier. Only to panic as soon as I had to swallow my saliva.

'I'm breathing normally again.'

I looked at him and then back at the ceiling. Wondering if he's found the weed. Wondering if he's figured it out. Wondering if everyone knew. But they decided to let me sleep.

I didn't have the energy or the desire to find out. Hence, I stood still and concentrated on my breathing until I fell back asleep.

No longer able to take it for granted.

"Jungkook, wake up. Hey."

Namjoon was shaking my shoulders after what felt like ten minutes of sleep and I found that maddening.

"I am not hungry. Just let me sleep." I mumbled.

But he had to say: "Isn't the appointment today?"

"...."

"You don't want to go anymore?"

'But maybe she'll give me pills.'

And that thought woke me up.

No one knew the exact time so, no one cared that I left one hour early.

Not that I arrived just as early on purpose, intending to leave early and get at least one hit until I'd have to go back among the normal people.

The psychiatrist didn't find my early arrival so pleasant but she took me in early anyway.

"My, my. Jungkook, it's been forever since we've seen each other. How are you doing?"

"I've gone to the therapist you recommended. That's why..."

"I see."

"And how are you?"

"Great."

She raised an eyebrow as I shifted in my seat and slapped what I had just said away with a loose hand.

"Bad habit. I am, in fact, not great."

"I wouldn't think you'd be here if you were."

"Yeah. I... got insomnia. And panic attacks. I can't breathe. Can't eat and then I eat too much. And I am like terrified all the time. I am really tired and sick of everything and..."

"There's a lot to unpack there."

"Yeah and I don't have the time either. I am here for only a few more days." I said then smiled nervously as my leg decided to kick all of a sudden. I went with it and started tapping it on the floor.

"Why is that so?"

"I have to go back to campus. I live there now."

"You're going to university. That's terrific. How is that going?"

"With all due respect, uni is the least of my problems right now."

"I see. What is your problem then?"

"I don't know either. I just feel horrible almost all the time unless I forget about it."

"About what?"

"Having to be here. Living. Repeating tasks. Everything..."

I finished that sentence as if I had to run to say it. I leaned back and tried to concentrate on anything but the pain that seemed to reside in every vein of my body.

"I see. You don't find that to be pleasurable?"

"Not at all."

"Why not?"

"It all hurts. It's boring. It's...I don't know. ....I..."

"I am very surprised by how upfront you are with your feelings today. Render my impressed but I think you've made some progress."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked harshly and she just nodded, smiling. I went on: "I am only telling you now because I am this close to losing my mind. So fucking help me. I don't care what pills I have to take or what I need to do. Just ...make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"Everything."

"Living?"

"Yeah. Make it stop."

"I'll try my best. Now, can you answer a few questions for me?"

"Sure."

She picked up her agenda. I raised an eyebrow.

Thinking: 'Just stop pretending to care and give me a prescription.'

"When was the first time you had suicidal thoughts?" She asked.

I held my breath.

And let it out only to say with a small, disbelieving smile: "I am not having suicidal thoughts."

"You just said you want everything to stop."

"I meant the emotions. Not my life."

"You don't wish to die?"

"No!"

"Interesting..."

"What's so 'interesting'?" I mocked, air quoting.

"You feel horrible all the time while you're alive, awake, and..."

"I have nightmares too, so there's no break from hell really."

"Let me finish, Jungkook. And then you can speak."

"Sorry."

"As I was saying, everything is worse than it's ever been emotionally wise and yet here you are, still wishing to live."

"Do you know what happens after death? Cause I don't and I don't want to find out soon. I just want to...feel. Normal."

"You are feeling normal."

"I feel like I am suffocating! I've literally physically suffocated lately."

"You think normal people don't experience strong emotions?"

"I... don't know."

"You think we're all just mindless robots going through our day and yet we put on such a good front that no one asks questions. Isn't that amazing?"

"I don't think it's that amazing."

"Let me tell you what I think Jungkook. I think that feeling is better than not feeling. But after you haven't felt much for a long time and dissociated from yourself for so long, now, after you've finally looked around and... felt the air around you, if you will, you are feeling lost. Like a newborn baby in a new world."

"I understand."

"Tell me what is it you understand."

I opened my eyes wide and leaned forwards, holding myself up by the arms of the chair.

"You're not going to help me."

She smiled and closed her agenda after scribbling something in it.

Only after she asked: "How does help look like to you?"

"Give me something to feel better. Just a little bit. Anything..."

"You think changing your perspective about your feelings won't help?"

"Even if they are divinely orchestrated, I still can't breathe. So, I am sorry but if I could make you feel a smidge of what I am feeling right now, then you wouldn't give a fuck about being a newborn or an old man."

"Let's say I'll prescribe you something."

"Great," I said, leaning back.

"Let's say I do, what will you do when the pills stop working?"

"Take others."

"And after that?"

"Find other pills."

"And how long until there are no more pills to try?"

"I don't think big pharma would fail their customers like that."

"Jungkook, you do realize that your perspective on feelings can partly trigger your anxiety?"

"That's your big spiel today? That it's all my fault?"

"I did not say it is your fault. I am saying that if you let your feelings be instead of trying to control or run away from them, then your body could stop tensing up against things like...breathing for example."

"I'll try."

She tilted her head and said, almost with sadness: "I don't think you mean that."

"Do I have anything left to lose?"

"Your breath is the last thing you lose, ironically."

She sighed and I got mad for some reason.

"By the way, can you please explain to me why would someone who used to be anything but kind suddenly turned over a new leaf? Like someone who used to get mad fast, and react impulsively, suddenly, nothing! All calm. What the hell is that?"

"Improvement in self-control? A change of heart? A result of internal work?"

"It's just so annoying..."

"Why?"

"Sometimes the person deserves to get punished, you know. Sometimes! Not all the time. One should get mad. Right? Like there are exceptions to the rule but..."

She interrupted me.

"You think you deserve to be punished Jungkook?"

"I didn't say that."

"You just did."

"I did?"

"What did you do so bad that you believe, so adherently, that you deserve to be punished for?"

"I... I...."

'Can't be happy.' I thought.

"Yes?" She asked, leaning to the edge of her seat.

I closed my eyes.

And said: "I just said it to say it. I didn't mean it. Now...what kind of pill would help me fall asleep and not dream at all?"

She leaned back down, looking almost disappointed.

I left her place with nothing but mild sleeping pills that not even a toddler could overdose on since they were that weak. Which was horrible news for me.

A prescription for daily antidepressants and one for panic attacks. Meant to be used as needed.

I looked up their effects and side effects on my phone while I was making a joint on the roof of her building.

There was not one doubt in my mind that I wouldn't take the antidepressant. But I hoped the other two would do something at least.

Alas, breathing in the smoke and letting it out was the calmest moment I had in the past year.

It was brief.

I was too afraid to take more than four hits but I still held them in and let them out hesitantly.

I wasn't exactly high but I was not entirely sober either.

In this way, I went back to Jung's place and stumbled in on a late lunch, where everyone was laughing and talking. Besides I.

"That waiter was so rude!" Mom exclaimed.

"Expensive restaurants. Expensive people." Namjoon joked.

The rest laughed.

I watched, dumbfounded.

"Honey, have something to eat." She told me.

"I am not hungry."

"How was your appointment?" Namjoon asked.

I shrugged. "Fine. Got some pills."

He nodded and watched me head to the bedroom.

"Jungkook, you can sit with us even if you don't want to eat." Dad let me know.

But I pretended not to hear and went inside either way.

After I brushed my teeth and changed my clothes, it hadn't been ten minutes and Namjoon was on my tail. Sitting down on the bed after I did.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I am just tired after not sleeping that night..."

"Jungkook."

"Hmm?"

"You smell like weed."

I parted my lips but nothing came out.

We kept staring into each other eyes and even after at least two minutes of silence, I still couldn't figure out what Namjoon was thinking or feeling.

A knock on the door had us looking away. Me, like deer caught in the headlights, and Namjoon, as if he expected it.

Mom walked right towards the dresser, saying:

"I've brought you some pastries. I'll leave them here in case you get hungry."

"Thanks, mom," I said, trying to sound cheery.

"And if you feel sick or anything, you'll let me know?"

"Of course," I exclaimed with a smile.

"Namjoon?" She said, and I blinked twice at how easily his name rolled off her tongue.

"Yes?"

"He's not lying, isn't he? He's not sick?"

"Not sick. Only tired."

"Then I'll leave you two talk. Have a good nap, honey."

She walked out with a smile on her face but as soon as she was gone, the room felt suffocating again.

And the question that broke the silence as I stared at the pastries that felt undeserved, hit me in spots that I didn't even realize were painless before.

"Where did you get it?"

The words poured out of me. I couldn't explain to myself why.

"A guy...someone gave me his number. I don't think he works for Fred or anyone important so...there's no harm."

He audibly grinned.

I immediately tried to explain further when he buried his face in his hands, leaning over his legs, "I am sorry. I just needed some kind of release. A break. To relax... My anxiety got worse and I don't know what to do. My psychologist is useless... and..."

"When did you buy it?"

"What?"

He straightened up, grabbed my throat, and without squeezing, he simply asked: "Before or after the appointment?"

".... before."

'Fuck. Why didn't I lie?'

"Before when."

"When you were all...."

"At the restaurant?" He finished for me.

I nodded.

"And did it work?"

"Huh?"

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes."

'No.'

"Then no harm done."

"Wait...you're....fine with it?"

"Fine with it...." He seemed to be pondering if that was true but his hands didn't leave my throat, although he was smiling. "You think I didn't think you'd ever relapse?"

"That's not..."

"I am fine with it as long as it's just weed."

"Oh."

"You only got weed, right?"

"Yeah! Nothing else."

"Show me."

"Huh?"

"Show me where you hid everything."

"Why do you want to...." And that's when the squeezing started and my heartbeat picked up.

And I spilled the answer in a second: "Backpack. It's in the backpack."

"Nothing is nowhere else?"

"No."

And the hand relaxed.

"You're not lying to me, Jungkook?"

"No. You know that I barely like anything else...why are you being so..."

It was brief but I caught the sadness in his eyes before he got up, leaving me to rub my neck and scratch my legs.

And while he was looking through the luggage, for the first time in months, the wounds from my legs that have long healed over were itchy.

'Am I scared of him? Even though I thought I...'

"That's it? Just this bag?"

"Yeah. I only wanted a bit..."

"So you could smoke it fast. Then no one could catch you?"

"No. I only wanted to smoke once but he said it wasn't enough to come all the way...."

"He, who?"

"The guy."

"What's his name?"

"I don't remember, I only got his number."

"Give me his number."

"...why?"

"In case you ever go missing, so I know who to call."

"You're exaggerating."

"Not one bit."

"Namjoon. Come on. Be...understanding. I feel like shit."

"I understand. As long as you understand that this bag will stay with me until you give me his number."

He stated, swinging the bag with one hand and showing me his phone with the other.

I was typing it into his phone not even 5 minutes later and the bag was in my hand as soon as he checked that it was the same number as the one on my phone.

I expected him to call but he didn't. Instead, he put the weed back. Climbed into bed and motioned for me to lay next to him after.

"You're upset?"

"Nah. Just wishing I could've done something that wouldn't make you crave it."

"You've done everything Namjoon. It's not your fault. It's the rest of the planet that I have a problem with."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And I am the exception?"

"Strangely, yes."

He chuckled, asking: "Strangely?"

"Yeah. It's weird how relaxed I am around you sometimes."

"Sometimes? There are times when you're not?"

"Well...not exactly. But there are times when I think you want to hurt me."

He went quiet so I elaborated: "Not badly. Just as punishment after I've done something silly."

"Something silly?"

"Like not eating."

"Oh. That."

"Yeah."

"Well, I won't hurt you. But I will hurt others, no problem."

"Namjoon." I scolded. Then drowned in the silence, and looking at the ceiling, I swallowed and put all the cards on the table.

"Namjoon?"

"Hm?"

"Sometimes I wish you'd hurt me."

"Am I not...hurting you enough?"

"When you're mad."

"When you don't eat, you want me to do what exactly?" He chuckled at the thought but when I didn't answer, he rose and covered the view of the ceiling with his face. Asking:

"When you say hurt, what do you mean?"

"Swear at me. Beat me up. Fuck me until I lose my mind."

I didn't know what possessed me to tell him what I'd just said but somehow, I thought this was as good a moment as any. And I still had a slight buzz from the weed going. But it wasn't enough to soothe my guilt when I saw him looking at me with dark eyes as he caressed my cheek with the utmost tenderness.

"I don't mean badly," I added. "Just a bit...to show me you care."

"I always care. But that's not caring Jungkook."

"I know...I ...forget it. I don't know why I said that."

"Sometimes I want to. Like when you didn't eat for three days straight..."

"You...I probably ate something when you were at work. I didn't starve."

"I always care." He whispered, touching our foreheads.

I bit my cheek, trying not to cry.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"But how will using that make you feel better? How will that make you eat after you'll stop?"

"I... don't know."

"Then it won't so there's no point to it."

"But I want to..." I admitted, feeling a tear escaping my left eye.

"What do you want?"

"I want to use it for now. And I want you to punish me for ...relapsing."

He smiled and kissed my nose before he sighed.

"How will that help you?"

"It won't. But I feel like I deserve it."

"Why is wanting to escape punishment worthy, Jungkook?"

"I don't know but it feels bad. Like everything is bad..."

"Jungkook..."

"I can't stop thinking about it. Wanting to escape everything. When I am with you it passes. When I am not ...I don't want to be here."

"Then it's simple."

I blinked in confusion, letting more tears fall in the process.

"You just have to be around me twenty-four-seven and you'll be fine."

I grinned.

"That sounds healthy."

"Who cares about healthy? Just...don't die."

"I'm not going to die from a bit of weed, Namjoon."

"Promise me you won't take anything else."

"I won't. I don't even have a dealer at the uni. That bag is all I got. After it's gone..."

"I'll quit my job."

"What? No."

"Or we can get a job together? Your parents keep offering me money. I can accept it and..."

"No. Look at me."

I put one hand on each side of his cheek and kissed his lips.

"It might pass. I might've freaked out about something a month ago and I didn't even realize it. It's what it is. But we'll keep living like we've been living and if I can't do it anymore, I'll tell you. Okay?"

"Promise."

"I promise."

"And you won't take anything else?"

"Promise."

Before the s made it out of my mouth, his tongue swallowed it.

And before I knew what was happening, I forced myself to expel air.

After all, his kiss did take my breath away.