She had known Jungkook almost forever. Years of friendship woven between stifled laughter in empty movie theaters, late-night confidences on icy balconies, and shared silences that spoke volumes. It was simple, natural. Too natural perhaps.Except that for her, it hadn't been just friendship for a long time.There had been that moment, insignificant to him, devastating to her—when his hand had brushed hers for a little too long. Or when he had looked at her with those shining eyes, never seeing what it had triggered in her.That evening, Jungkook had mentioned a date. A girl he'd met online, apparently funny. Pretty. Interesting. She had forced a smile, nodded. Of course. She often slept at his place; the couch was practically her second home. He wouldn't see the problem. He wouldn't understand.

She'd fallen asleep there, curled up under her favorite blanket, his scent still lingering on the cushions. Then noises had woken her. Muffled laughter. A woman's whisper. A slamming door.

Sighs.

And her heart began to pound, like a cruel reminder that there had never been a place for her outside of the "best friend" label.

Silently, she stood up. Barefoot, walking slowly, she locked herself in the bathroom. There, she let go of the facade, tears flowing unchecked. She sat on the floor, against the cold wall, her knees drawn up to her chest, as if to contain the bursting of her broken heart.

Time had passed. She no longer knew how many minutes, how many hours. Then a voice, then the sound of footsteps. The handle turned.

And suddenly, his voice. Surprise, panic.

"Holy shit..."

He found her there, curled up behind the door. And in his eyes, she saw neither anger nor pity. Just icy incomprehension.

"What the hell are you doing here?"he added with a hint of annoyance