The air was chilly, rain drops pittering and pattering against the windshield, as smoke came out of the crack of the window and dissipated into the air. The RnB music played quietly in the car.

There sits Jungkook, smoking a cigarette, looking down at his phone, on the message app, staring at the text he has typed out. It wasn't a meaningful paragraph, fuck no, he doesn't do that. It's just a simple three word sentence: 'i miss you.' That's the best he got. But he means it, means it way more than it sounds.

You had an argument two days ago. You were watching him scroll through social media when he got a DM from a girl, and he had responded to her too. He understands why you're mad, but he didn't know how to react so he got all defensive.

And now he's outside your house, at midnight, in his car, not with flowers this time, but with Chinese takeout—your favorite—sitting on the passenger seat, waiting for you to reply to his messages.

"i miss you."

He sent another message:

"i'm outside."