[You Flew Right By, Love] (2) Taehyung/V x Reader

It's a searing, throbbing pain in my chest when I hear him gingerly call my name. Yes. I am awake. I'm wide awake, with heartache being my only power generator. And it's strong; effective. And similar to caffeine, it's making me shake. Silent sobs wrack my body as I lie next to him in bed. I shut my eyes tight in frustration. I don't know what to do; push aside the fact that Jimin gave up on our relationship, or continue on as if we are fine? It'd be impossible. As much as I'd like to choose the latter, it wasn't the truth. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep staying with Park Jimin any longer.

He cuts me off from my thoughts when I hear movement beside me. He props himself up on an elbow and turns on a lamp by the table side. My eyes flutter open.

"[Name]." He calls.

"Yes." I finally say, meekly answering his previous question. Trying my best not to let my voice crack. "I'm awake."

"You're shaking. Are you okay?" He leans over and tries to catch a glimpse of my face.

Of course I am not okay. I think I am on the contrary of being okay.



Another insuppressible hiccup escapes me, and instantly, Jimin reaches out for my shoulder and flips me around so I'm lying on my back. His form looms above, as he takes his time to straddle my hips, with our faces only centimetres apart. I feel a stray strand of his hair fall and lightly brush over the top my forehead, as my head rests on a pillow in between his large hands. His dark brown irises widen in shock when he sees me, and for a minute I try to focus on his image with tears in my eyes, unbothered to cover them. He stares right back, showing guilt in his countenance.

"Why are you crying baby?" Jimin recovers from his shock and frowns in a wistful manner, nosing into my cheek and sneakily planting a chaste kiss. 

"Where were you tonight?" I whisper, ignoring his question. My heart isn't touched by his careful affection. My mind being someplace else.

There is a heavy, miserable silence as he retracts his face from mine. It's dreadful. I'm lying here waiting for him to burst into laughter, and tell me this has all been just a joke before I lose my mind. And I love his toothy smile, his dimples; every feature of him. And I wish I could just see it resurface now to save this situation. This is the first time Jimin has hurt me, and being inexperienced and unknowing how to brace myself, the emotion I feel for him, for this, for everything, hits too hard.

 

 

 "With another woman."

 

His voice although quiet—doesn't falter, does he not feel guilty in his conscience? I am not at all prepared for this. It is one thing to know that he is cheating, but another to hear him confirming it from his own lips. I feel myself losing it. Everything is just too surreal for me to comprehend. 'Why is this happening?' I yell in my already buzzing mind.

How can we go from the start, of being so happy together, to breaking down abruptly without a middle story?—No wait, there was a middle story, except I missed out on it. Jimin had filled it up with another woman. Tears start streaming down my eyes now and I push him to his side of the bed, off of me so I can sit up. I rise from the mattress and waste no time in receiving my suitcase from another room before walking over to our bedroom closet. I want to be anywhere but here, I can't stand being in the same room as him—let alone breathing the same air—any longer.

"Hey, wait, I'm sorry. Please just hear me out for a second." He exclaims worriedly. He gets up and strides over to me as I'm rummaging through our closet, retrieving anything that's mine. I'm carelessly tossing things into the suitcase, plastic hangers and all. I'm not even sure if I have everything, but I rush to zip up my suitcase readying to leave, when suddenly, Jimin grips my wrist roughly.

"[Name]! J- Just wait, I- "

"You're not even going to try to make up an excuse to save our relationship? I didn't know you wanted to break up with me this badly. You've could've just said so!" I scream in tears, shoving the suitcase onto the floor with a loud thud. "Let go of me!"

It's obvious he's startled but he doesn't release me from his hold.

 

 _{I'm on the verge of losing my mentality.}

 

"I'm sorry! I didn't want to keep lying to you anymore." He fights back in the same volume.

I bring a hand up over my mouth to still myself, as I try to listen to him better above my own stifled sobs.

"I know I've made a mistake, I know the only woman I really love is you. It was just a one night stand with a somebody who means absolutely nothing to me! Please, forgive me," He pants. So passionate in an attempt of justifying himself, his hand flies up to his chest and clutches at his shirt. "I just had a fuzzy, tiring day at work and I wasn't myself. One thing just happened after the other, I didn't know what I was getting myself into! I love you [Name], you know I do. I promise you, this isn't going to happen a second time." I see him swallow as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. His eyes are pleading as he explains himself in a hurry, and I'm almost sucked into his vortex of lies.

Why does he look wounded if I am supposed to be the ones that's hurting?

"I- ...I don't know. I don't know—do you love me, because I'm not sure anymore? You're lying. You're telling me, that she doesn't mean anything to you? That hardly seems like the truth!" My voice condescends as my heart beat increases. "It's that woman right? The hairdresser? Makeup artist? Whoever the fuck it was. How long have you two been fucking around behind my back?" I confidently shout at him because I know I'm right. The spotlight was all on him.

No answer.

The pressure around my wrist loosens now.

"Yeah. That's right." I laugh without really laughing. Inside, I honestly think I could crumble and fall apart. I take a deep breath and calm myself down as he lowers his hand back to his side.

"Jimin, for all it's worth, I don't think you understand how happy you made me." I say wearily, tired from all this. I wait for if he has anything to say to me, but he just looks into my eyes as if searching for forgiveness. He looks like he's just been scolded, lips drawn in a straight line, with red lines colouring the white of his sclera like he's about to cry. I want to leave before he does—if he does. I don't know what seeing him cry will do to me. It would probably kill me, because he's usually so strong.

"I think we need to spend some time apart. I'll be back for my things tomorrow." I sniffle. He doesn't move, just stands there, and without any last words being exchanged, I walk past him out of bedroom.

"Please, don't leave me. Please..." I hear him say quietly as if I were still in that same room as him.

It takes me all of my strength to walk away. I walk out of the living room, throw on my shoes, swing the front door open and dart out into the streets with tears blurring my vision.

 

 
   _{Jimin, you fucking idiot. It's not like I want to.}
 

 

I'm sprinting as fast as I can, the soles of my feet hitting the hard pavement, one foot after the other. A breeze passes, and it feels pleasant as it runs through and under my hair. I have no idea where I am headed and I already miss him, but I can't turn back. I feel my lungs slowly beginning to burn and it gets harder and harder for me to breathe. I really need to start excersising regularly.

My throat tightens in on me and my body convulses as I break into louder, messier sobs. I take this as a sign and I slow to stop, finally having the time to wipe away at my tears and runny nose with the sleeves of my sweater. Finding myself at a park under a flickering streetlamp, I collapse onto a park bench in a panting, dishevelled heap.

With shaky fingers I hurriedly slide my phone from the pocket of my shorts. I subconsciously dial in a friend's number and let the phone ring. Nervous, I contemplate whether to hang up or not, and just as I am about to, a voice answers on the other end.

"Hello?" He sounds sluggish as he yawns into the phone.

"Tae-Taehyung? What's up?"

"[Name].. It's 3:30 in the morning. I'm sleeping." He groans.

"I just- just wanted to know how you were doing?" I sniffle, trying to prevent from sounding congested. I want to keep a normal conversation going to hear his soothing voice, but I know I am doing a terrible job even though I'm trying my best.

It goes silent for awhile on the other end, and I safely assume he hung up on me. It is  only the reasonable reaction for someone in the right mind. I mean, who really answers phone calls at 3 in the morning? How ridiculous.

 

 

 

"Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."