College corridors always felt suffocating to you. So many eyes, so many voices—most of which never noticed your presence. And that’s exactly how you liked it. Quiet corners, silent walks, headphones in—your own little world where everything made sense.

Until he came into it.

Jeon Jungkook.

Cold, composed, confident.

And yours.

Not that anyone knew. Your relationship with Jungkook was like a delicate glass hidden behind curtains—beautiful, precious, and entirely secret. Only two people knew: your best friend and his girl best friend. You never wanted attention, nor the judgment that would come if people found out he—Jeon Jungkook—was dating you, the invisible girl.

He respected that.

Never once tried to expose it. Not even in college. He'd simply pass by with a glance, a soft smile—just for you. And your heart would flutter like it was the first time.

But then there was her.

His best friend.

Savage. Loud. Bold. The kind of girl guys flirted with just for the thrill of it. She was always with him—laughing, hitting his arm, stealing his drinks. And Jungkook? He never stopped her. Never distanced himself. Because she was just a friend.

Just a friend.

But the way she looked at him—the way she touched him—wasn’t how friends acted.

And you? You didn’t know how to fight back. You didn’t even have any male friends, let alone the confidence to tell Jungkook how much it hurt.

Until tonight.

He had just come back from college, tossing his bag on the couch and flashing you his usual playful grin. “Missed me?”

You didn’t smile back.

He noticed immediately. “Hey... what’s wrong?”

You stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying not to let your voice crack. “Did you have fun… with her?”

His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Your voice rose slightly, though it still trembled. “Your best friend, Jungkook. She’s always with you. Touching you. Flirting with you. And you… you never stop her.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback.

You swallowed hard. “Do you even realize how that makes me feel?”

“Yn…” he started, stepping toward you, “You know she’s just a friend—”

“I don’t care!” you snapped. “I hate it. I hate how close you are with her. I hate how she gets to be with you while I stand in corners pretending we’re nothing!”

The silence that followed was heavy.

You felt tears sting your eyes. “So just tell me now. Do you want her? Or me?”

That’s when everything changed.

He stopped breathing for a second.

His chest began rising and falling faster, his jaw tightening. You watched his hands curl into fists, veins bulging down his neck, rage simmering behind his eyes.

He scanned your trembling figure—your clenched fists, your quivering lip, the tears threatening to fall. He noticed everything. Every inch of you. He always did.

And then, something in him snapped.

He stepped forward.

Quick. Dangerous.

You backed up instinctively until your back hit the wall. Before you could move, his hands slammed onto the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

His face was close. Too close.

“Don’t ever—” his voice was low, guttural “—ever say that again.”

You couldn’t breathe. His body was burning with anger.

Then—

BAM!

His fist smashed into the wall beside you. You flinched violently, your heart leaping into your throat.

BAM!

Again. His knuckles cracked against the plaster.

BAM!

The third punch left a dent. Blood smeared across the paint.

He leaned in until your noses nearly touched, his breath hot and ragged against your lips.

“It’s you,” he growled. “It’s always been you.”

Your eyes widened.

“You think I’d choose her over you?” he seethed. “You’re not a choice, Yn. You’re not some option I have to pick.”

His bloody fist trembled beside your head. His voice cracked.

“You’re my decision. The one I made the moment I saw you. The one I’ll keep making every damn day. Always. Forever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks.

But before you could say anything, he pulled away.

His expression unreadable, jaw still clenched, he turned and stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him—then the click of a lock.

You sank to the floor, staring at the wall where his blood still stained the cracked plaster.

He chose you.

He really, truly chose you.

Your heart should’ve been relieved. But your mind—it screamed.

He was hurting.

You hurt him.

You curled into yourself, guilt and love crushing you from the inside. You didn’t go after him. He didn’t come out.

And just like that, the silence took over.

And you cried.

Until sleep finally pulled you under—alone, hurting, and wishing you could take the words back.

To be continued...