Namjoon was peeling a boiled egg in the kitchen when I got downstairs. A bowl of oat with chopped bananas and strawberries were in a bowl next to a glass of orange juice.

He looked up at me as I entered the room and pushed the tray towards me. "When'd you get back?" I asked, taking a seat at the table before drinking a large amount of juice, feeling very dehydrated.

"Last night," he said, dropping a peeled egg on my tray before leaning against the counter and just watching me. "Although, you were nowhere to be found when I got here, but then you came back home much later pretending to be fine but completely drunk and reeking of alcohol."

Shit. I looked down at the food in front of me and grabbed a spoon. "Yeah. I went to, uh,..." I couldn't find words. I didn't know what to say. I looked back up at Namjoon and he was staring down at me, waiting.

I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie to him or omit this information anymore. I nodded to myself, feeling my stomach twist from anxiety. "I was with... Jungkook."

"How long?"

I felt like I was under interrogation. Like the words I said from this moment mattered and would determine a lot of important things. Namjoon looked more serious than normal.

"A few days after the library incident," I answered. I had no intention of holding back anything again. I was going to be completely honest to Namjoon now. My friendship with him meant more than the unease in my stomach.

He didn't respond, he just stared at me. His eyes glazed with something I couldn't quite place. A look I didn't quite like.

"It was the day I found out my dad was dying. Jungkook was there to talk me through it," I explained further. "You were right, okay? He's a good guy. And it wasn't like I was hiding it from you, I just didn't know what we were. I still don't know."

He nodded slowly, his face screwing into a disapproving expression. "Right. But you never talk to me about your dad. Every time I bring it up, you act like I'm the enemy and the messenger of bad news."

"You know it's not that. But my dad hurt me a—"

"Exactly. He hurt you but I don't know how much because you never want to talk about it. You shut me out completely and everything I know, I heard it from your mum. But you're so comfortable sharing it with someone you met zero seconds ago."

"I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You know how much you mean to me," I explained, my head about to explode from aching so much.

"Bullshit!" He snapped, his voice going over the roof. "I'm your best friend, it is my duty to be burdened by your problems. Are you telling me if I were in your position and my dad was dying, you'd ditch me? You'd not want me to burden you with my problem?"

If he were to ever be in my position, I'd walk every mile of the journey by his side. I'd go to sleep and wake up with his pain in my heart. I'd be with him and make sure I remind him it was going to be fine. I wouldn't do to him what I was making him do to me.

I rubbed my face in frustration.

"Jin" he said, voice coming down into a low tone. "You're my best friend. We are supposed to share every laugh and cry together. I don't want to be happy if you're sad. What you did is completely selfish."

I nodded. "I'm a horrible friend."

"You don't get to call my best friend horrible," he scolded frowning. "You're a horrible friend, Jin."

"I am."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "So, are you guys dating?"

"I don't even know," I answered sincerely, relieved I could finally talk to him about Jungkook. "When my mind isn't occupied with how much the universe is fucking me over, he's all I think about. He treats me so well and we have like a shitload of sex but nothing is official."

"You guys are having sex?!" He exclaimed, his normal self metamorphosing. "Is he good?"

I rolled my eyes. "This was why I didn't want to tell you about us because you never take anything serious."

"No, the reason you didn't tell me you were having sex like a rabbit with the admirer dude from the library is because you're a horrible friend. We established that fact," he rushed out.

I pushed the tray of untouched food away and picked up the glass of juice. "I'm really confused about what we are or what we're even doing."

Namjoon grabbed my spoon and started eating the oat. "Do you like him?"

"Doesn't my frustration make it obvious? I'm falling hard and fast, and I can't help it."

"Then tell him," he said, shrugging like he'd just asked me to pass the bottle of honey.

"Just like that?"

"I mean you could write a letter, spray some perfume on it, attach a bottle of wine and a bouquet, if you want. But I was thinking you'd just say it with your mouth." He brought up a spoonful of oat and a chopped piece of strawberry and hovered it close to my mouth. I shook my head.

"It's not that simple."

He brought the spoon to his mouth and ate it. "It's actually very simple. You can control what you say to people, you just can't control their reactions."

I gaped at him, shocked that Namjoon was going philosophical on me. "What kind of camp did you go again?"

He grinned, winking. "I told you I'm smart."

• • •

"Tell me you're joking," Namjoon groaned as I dragged him into the flower shop, my nostrils tingling at the smell of the gazillion fragrance.

"You brought it up."

"I was teasing you!"

"It doesn't matter. We're here now," I said, looking around the shop, completely lost for what I was supposed to buy. "You're the Casanova, what flowers do I get?"

"Do I look like I buy flowers?"

"But you've received them," I said. "A ton." Namjoon was fond of dating older men and most of them's love language was money, gifts and flowers.

"I always resent the flowers to other people," he said like it was a normal thing to do. Just resend a flower gift to someone else. He bent to sniff an arrangement. "This one smells nice."

"I'm not sure," I said, turning to the lady who was looking at us with a soft smile on her face. She had a bandana tied around her blonde hair, wearing a short bohemian gown and green sandals.

"Would you like my help?"

"Yes, please," I said, my voice coming out almost desperately.

She strolled over to us, her steps light, unlike Namjoon who was stomping around the shop like he owned the place. He went from flower to flower sniffing and cringing dramatically at most of the scents.

"What kind of flowers?"

I wasn't even sure what kind of flowers I wanted to get him. I just wanted a nice looking, nice smelling one to send to him in the morning. I shrugged. "Anything nice."

"Is there an occasion?" She asked.

Too embarrassed to even say what I intended to achieve with this, I shook my head. "No."

"He's confessing to the person he likes," Namjoon's voice came from across the room. "Make it super romantic. This one doesn't know anything about romance."

I glared at my friend, before turning to the lady with an apologetic smile. "Ignore him."

But she could already tell he was saying the truth and I was being a chicken. "I'll make it super nice," she assured me. I nodded my thanks just as she added, "And super romantic."

Yoongi wasn't talking to me.

The next day at school, I walked into the class and found him talking to someone at the back of the class. I waved and walked up to him to ask how his campaign process was going, plus there was a small festival being held the next day by the student body candidates and I wanted to ask if he needed my help since I promised to give him my undiluted support, but as soon as I got close enough, he turned and walked away.

I wouldn't lie, I was a bit shocked at his coldness towards me because I'd hit Taehyung to protect him and Hoseok—before I found out Hoseok had known about everything. And I knew he was probably confused about it—especially if Taehyung hadn't yet told him about it.

I hadn't even known he'd been mad. Was the whole world taking turns being mad at me? Who was next? It made me wonder if it was the reason I was having the worst time of my life. Was God mad at me too?

I shook off the ridiculous thought instantly, and walked to my seat, dropping my materials on my desk. I had just flipped through my homework to go through it one more time when I received a notification.

A text icon appeared on my screen from Happy Floral, the flower store Namjoon and I had visited. It was a picture of my order to Jungkook; a flower arrangement, a bottle of wine—that had honestly cost an arm, because I realized he was the type who liked expensive stuff—and a card.

I felt nervous at the note. I contemplated asking her to take out the whole message and just sign my name on it, but I knew I had to be brave going after what I wanted. And at the moment, what I wanted was Jungkook.

Instead, I sent her a quick response as the teacher walked in; Ok. Thanks. Which was meant she could send it.

My heart thudded in my heart as soon as I hit send. I couldn't concentrate all through the first and second periods of class. I spaced out and got into my own head, spinning multiple shitty ways Jungkook would react to it when deep down I knew even if he wanted to reject me, he'd never do it in a way that would hurt me.

Although, there's no possible way he could reject me that wouldn't shatter my heart, even if he were to douse his words in honey. Honestly, I didn't want to imagine him rejecting me. The thought alone was detrimental to my state of mind.

I was panicking so hard that I had to excuse myself in the middle of class to go to the bathroom where I called Namjoon and complained about my worries to him. "I'd find him and skin him alive if even as much as thinks of it," he said.

"I don't want him skinned alive," I groaned. "I just want him. Just that."

"I'm sure he wants you, too. You have an ass to die for, Jin."

"But he hasn't said anything. It's been three hours and he hasn't called or texted." I was freaking out. "Maybe I shouldn't have sent them. What if he thinks I'm a weirdo?"

"Because you sent him flowers and wine?" He scoffed a laugh. "Two days after we met, chef guy sent me a sex toy."

"What?" I winced. "Why? That's creepy, Namjoon."

"It's not. It's quite thoughtful," he said. "Anyway, my point is, your gifts are not weird, at all. They're really sweet. Jungkook will be an idiot not to see that."

"When did you become so thoughtful?" I asked. "You used to be a complete moron. Something changed during your camp trip and I'm still trying to figure out what it is."

He chuckled. "Maybe I found Jesus."

"That's not possible," I said. "I need to go back to class."

I didn't hear from Jungkook from the rest of the school day. And as I lay in bed that night, drowning in my regret, I was certain I would never hear from him again.

My note, my confession, had scared him off.

• • •

I really like you, Jungkook.

• • •