♫ : ditto - newjeans

You woke up early. Too early, feeling uneasy after last night. You'd spent most of it on the couch, replaying the events over and over in your head.

The way Jake pulled you into his arms, the forehead kiss, the kiss on your lips... but all of it felt wrong, didn't it? His lips weren't meant for you.

You heard movements in the bedroom, the shuffling of sheets - Jake must be waking up.

Your heart raced a little, unsure of how to act around him now. Should you pretend like nothing happened? Should you bring it up? But what would you even say? You quickly busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing coffee to keep your hands from shaking.

Jake stepped into the living room a few minutes later, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like a mess, his hair messy, eyes slightly puffy from the alcohol.

"Hey," he said, his voice raspy and low.

"Morning," you replied, forcing a smile. You handed him a cup of iced americano - something you noticed him drinking every morning.

Jake hesitated before sitting down at the kitchen counter, taking a slow sip of the coffee, the cold waking him up a bit more. "Did... Did I do anything stupid last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You looked away, pretending to focus on your own cup. "You were pretty drunk," you said softly, dodging the real answer.

He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to remember what happened last night. "Yeah, I remember that part. I just don't remember everything."

Silence filled the room. You know what he's asking without asking - Did he say something? Did he do something?

"Your friend called me," you explained, still avoiding what he was meaning to ask. "Because you were too drunk to get home. You ended up here since I didn't know your apartment code."

Jake sighed, and for a second, you think that's the end of it. But then he glanced at you. "I... feel like I did something?"

Is he talking about the kiss? Does he even remember?

"You talked about someone," you said, trying to keep your voice as steady as you could. "Said you were having feelings for them, and that it was bothering you."

Jake froze and the air between you seemed to thicken. "Oh." He paused, staring into his cup. "I... didn't mean to talk about that."

Your heart sinks. Of course. He does like someone. It was never you.

"Right," You nodded and forced a laugh that felt like sharp glass in your throat. "It's okay. I mean, you were drunk."

Jake's eyes flicked up to yours, searching your face.

"Yeah, drunk," he muttered.

An awkward silence filled the room. You pushed your cup of coffee away, your stomach too twisted to drink anything anymore.

"You should probably head back to your place," you said, your voice quieter than you thought it would be. "Get some rest."

Jake watched you carefully, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah, I guess I should."

He stood up, but you sensed hesitation in his movements. Like he doesn't really want to leave. Jake reached for his coat, but just as his fingers touched the fabric, he paused.

"I-" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Never mind."

Your chest tightens as you look at him once again. "What?"

He turned to face you. His expression was unreadable. "Nothing. Just... thanks for taking care of me last night."

You smiled, although it didn't reach your eyes. "Anytime."

Jake nodded, and for a second, it felt like he wanted to say something more. But then he just left, and the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your messed up thoughts.

As soon as he was gone, you sank onto the couch, staring at the door he just exited from.

Everything felt wrong. It felt like he was slipping through your fingers, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. Your heart aches from the what-if's and missed chances.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but last night's kiss kept replaying in your head. Jake's lips on your forehead. The brief, soft touch on your lips. You pressed your fingertips to your mouth as if you could feel it all over again.

He didn't kiss you because he wanted to. He kissed you because he was thinking about someone else.

-

Jake sat in his apartment, staring out the window, lost in thought.

The memory of last night was still there, the feel of your lips against his still fresh in his mind. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but now... he just can't stop himself from thinking about it over and over again.

He rubbed his face, feeling the weight of his own stupidity.

"What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself, staring down at his hands. He can still smell the light scent of you on his clothes.

His fingers hovered over his lips, his brain replaying the moment when he kissed you. But he knows. He knows how much he's already messed up. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. How did everything get so complicated?