Consigliere: Jeon Jungkook
You’re left to pick up the pieces of a criminal world you
know little about and Jungkook is there to pick up you.
Warnings: mafia, organised crime, graphic descriptions of murder, altered perceptions of criminal life, mentions of suicide, extreme guilty conscience, guns, shooting, car explosions, gunshot wounds, bodily harm, discussion of religion, corruption, smoking, unfairly hot half Italian Jungkook.
"Comare Romano, benvenuto al potere."
The faces I grew up with flocked into the office, queueing with pride to pay their respects. It was strange having them kiss my hand now, usually, a woman would extend her hand first but I wasn't just a woman anymore.
"Tuo padre sarebbe orgoglioso."
This should be the best moment of my life. No amount of kisses on the cheek or congratulations could change the fact that my family was dead and I was a criminal.
The Comare was the female equivalent of a Don and literally translates as the Godmother. It made sense, the men I was currently surrounded by were all my chosen family, chosen just like you would the godparents of your child.
And the Godmother protects.
It's what we do. It's all about protection, protection for the people who can't go to the police. It wasn't even about the money, if the life was free we wouldn't charge or make business but we gotta all eat somehow.
We just want crime off our streets and...
They all raise a glass, exchanging glances and a million words but none could quite sum this up. I didn't feel present, I didn't even see who poured me a drink, who put it in my hand or even what we were toasting. But I faked a determined grin and raised my whiskey.
I quickly learnt from a young age that this life wasn't like the movies. In reality, the mafia is your doctor, your lawyer, your teacher, the guy who fixed your car and the guy who sold it to you. It's the everyday people that make it scarier.
Then I was left alone in this room for the first time. It didn't feel mine, didn't feel real. It felt uncomfortably juvenile like putting on your mother's heels when you were a kid. Underneath the sharp clothes and intimidating nonchalance, I was just a girl who missed her father and her brother.
I almost wished that my father was murdered in some dramatic rival assassination just so I'd have someone to blame, somewhere to put all this hate but when he had a stroke the only thing I could do was yell at some poor innocent doctor and punch a few holes in the hospital wall.
My brother Tony, that was fresh. They died within just five days of each other. Suicide. Tony was the perfect heir apparent to the empire, he was rude, arrogant, charming and ruthless. But, it turns out he didn't want it either, didn't feel up to the job.
Why couldn't he have just taken a car and run away? Why did he have to die?
But at least Tony got out when he could. We'd only just buried him and I was already replacing him.
A faint knock at the door makes me straighten in my chair. I can picture the intricate tattoos on his knuckles as he does it.
I know it's him since he doesn't bother to wait for an answer, knowing I wouldn't want to see anyone for a long while. He steps in anyway, frame solid and impressive even in the darkness of this room, hair parted and pointed in a way that makes his eyes look even sharper even more dangerous.
I met Jungkook 5 years ago when he was hired by my father and eventually assigned him to guard me specifically since I was so young at the time just like him and related to the most dangerous man in New York. He was a living action man, too strong and capable for his own good. Jungkook would do anything for anyone.
But eventually, he grew to be more than just someone who would throw themselves in front of a gun for me, he was someone who could see through me like I was cellophane.
"We're meeting Jimmy Walker in half, we're helping his mayor campaign. Get the car ready."
Jungkook was quiet, he knew what this meant but still chose to say nothing in case he was wrong. I find it difficult to show affection so I can't say it outright. I have to boss him around until he gets the idea.
"And, keep tabs of Marcello and the rest, I know he won't handle being demoted well. If so much as the first letter of my name comes out of their mouth I wanna know about it."
I carried on, lifting an eyebrow when he still hadn't answered me. He just stood there as solid as a brick wall, hands folded behind his back like a soldier and gaze completely fixed on the space between my eyebrows.
At first, I thought he stood that way because he wasn't comfortable around me but I eventually found out his father used to make him walk around with a mop behind his back and between his elbows, beating him if he started to slouch.
"Y/N, only the Consigliere does the political stuff. I'm just the guy with the gun," he declares more than explains waving his black pistol in the air, wide-eyed at the possibility that maybe he was-
"I know it's the Consigliere's job that's why I'm asking you to get your coat and get in the car sweetheart."
He wasn't protesting, he was making sure.
"But I'm only half Italian."
"That's true but the fact of the matter is that a Consigliere is the person that I'm meant to trust the most. You think I trust anyone here more than you?" I ask softly and sincerely, standing and pulling out my hair from my coat as if gets tucked inside. He deserved this more than anyone. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.
Jungkook is a man of very little emotions but even he couldn't fight the grin tickling the corners of his pink lips. It's infectious, makes my chest contract.
It wasn't an unknown thing in my mind that I was in love with him, I admit it to myself every day. This love was the perfect amount of agony and this agony was the only consistent thing in my life so I'd take what I could get. I wasn't sure if he felt the same or if his comforting presence was just out of obligation to my father. Either way, he could never know.
The last boyfriend I had that my family knew about at least I had found 2 weeks after introducing him to them at dinner dead on my kitchen floor, brain blown to pieces and blood stained the entire kitchen floor. I had to get new tiles.
"It would be an honour being by your side."
It's a controversial move but there was no one else I would rather be with than him.
"Good. I wouldn't have taken no for answer anyway."
Jimmy Walker was another sleaze bag politician who was willing to risk his life for his reputation. He was greedy and it was a common rumour that he was taking money from big businesses to switch some health and safety policies around if he ever became mayor.
"Comare Romano, I know how you guys work I just- I don't want this to fall back on me you know?"
Jimmy's nervous, sweating through his cheap beige suit on the other side of his desk. There were pictures on the walls of him and some D list celebrities, they weren't even signed.
When he's done talking Jungkook looks at me and then I know the feeling of disrespect wasn't just 'first day on the job paranoia.'
"It upsets me Jimmy that you make me haul my ass 30 miles over here a couple days after burying my brother, making me listen to your shoddy demands to fix your fucking mess and now you're telling me how to do my job? That you're unsure?"
I didn't think it was possible for a guy to be chilled to the bone and sweating profusely at the same time. Walker is stunned, unable to do anything but try and talk himself out of the grave he had dug himself into.
"Comare, I meant no disrespect to you or your family. I'm just nervous I really want this campaign under my belt and if people find out I turned to you for help, well I might as well resign now."
One of the most important things I learnt from my father was that you had to let the guy finish talking, even if he was disrespecting your mother, so he hears how stupid he sounds by the end of his speech.
And, it didn't take a genius to tell that Jimmy Walker was one stupid asshole.
"Jimmy, they're not gonna find out and even if they do they won't say shit because they know who we are and how to respect us, something you have made no effort to do since I walked into this room," I calmly scold him from my chair and he shrinks under Jungkook's deadly glare.
"I'm doing you a favour here, you're not giving me anything in return. If you think that you running for mayor makes you special and untouchable you're in for a big fucking surprise. I've got guys like you all over waiting to take that stand and all I've got to do is snap my fingers and you're out of the running without a trace."
Anyone else would've killed him but I was a firm believer that you could talk your way out of almost anything, that's what I thought about during the ride home. I sighed, rubbing my pounding forehead in my palm as I look at the window, my eyebrows feeling as though they were quite visually pulsating.
"You know you don't have to put it on in front of me right?"
I look to Jungkook to my left, not realising he'd been staring for a while then at the driver who put up the privacy screen under my watch.
"We need to send Jimmy a message, in case I wasn't clear enough don't you think?"
He hums in thought, pretty big eyes fixed on my knees.
"I don't think you would've left that room if you still thought he didn't get the message."
Jungkook is still careful with what he says which is exactly what I was afraid of. He knew deep down that even though he was talking to me, things were different now and I didn't like that. Maybe he was just tiptoeing for now with this unfamiliar territory. So I push him over the edge.
"You think he spoke to me like that because I'm a woman?"
"I think it's irrelevant," he blurts before he can stop himself. Check.
"I don't kill people. You don't think I should overcompensate?"
I don't kill but I also don't think that makes me above anyone here. Just being related, knowing the things I know and doing absolutely nothing to stop it makes me just as much of a killer as any of these guys.
But, Jungkook killed people every week with his own hands. You could imagine my surprise when he still managed to understand what I was feeling. That's how I know he's the one.
"You don't have to. If you do this right nobody has to die."
No pressure. I looked into his glistening eyes and as usual, found nothing but sincerity and that sharp way he looked at me that I couldn't exactly describe.
"Plus that's why you have me. I get my hands dirty so you don't have to ruin your nails," he jokes, grinning boyishly in the way that makes him 10 times younger and 25 times more attractive.
It was contagious as I also looked down to my lap with a smile, shaking my head at his ability to make me laugh no matter the circumstances. But at the same time, I knew he was right. Jungkook always works alone because he always gets the job done. He was the only reliable and consistent thing about this.
Then I feel his hand over mine on the seat as I look out of the window and I struggle to not look back. He turns my palm over, squeezing it reassuringly with his surprisingly soft fingers and I have to settle for imagining how the black ink looks intertwined with my fingers.
"You can do this Y/N. You can do anything."
It's bittersweet and that perfect agony.
Two weeks go by and I manage to keep my hands relatively clean. People come they ask for things and they go and I had to do very little so far to give that a push. But, I also knew it was only a matter of time, that I'd been very lucky and that this wasn't permanent. This wasn't even half the life and I couldn't get used to it.
The pot began to boil on a late Tuesday dinner with Jimmy Walker, his administrator (aka. his very own consigliere) Johnny Paige, Jungkook and my underboss and my father's best friend Marcello Rossi.
Carpaccio had a sweet little Italian joint around the corner from us and my father did a lot of business there, we had a little money invested in the place too and Carpaccio paid us back in dinner and warm service. I always made sure to leave a little wedge in the pocket of his apron whenever we came in here just like my father did and his father before him.
"Have you heard Anthony whats-his-name, Aileen's son, Tony Russo that's the guy, he's been asking around for you," Jimmy grins as we engage in casual conversation. At the end of the day, you had to butter up and season the chicken before you cook it.
I'm staring at Jimmy and watching him squirm and pretend as if he doesn't notice it. I'm looking at him like he's my worst enemy, coming into my house going through my fridge and sitting on my couch watching my tv without asking.
"What's that grease ball want now?" Jungkook laughs under his breath his large shoulders shaking, fork digging into his steaming hot Rigatoni by my side. My head always snaps to him when he smiles, like magnetic energy even if it was just a smirk.
"Nobody's hiring him to sing except for weddings."
Between the scraping of forks and spoons against plates, wine sipping, pouring and the quiet ambience of the chattering around us, the laughter of the table could be heard. We were just finishing what I considered a very successful meal but dessert was yet to come.
"Good, it's the closest the guy'll ever get to getting married. Humour him a little," I mumble casually with an unlit cigarette in between my painted lips flicking around.
The table laughed again, louder this time and Jungkook flicked out his lighter and lit my cigarette for me before lighting his own, his jaw sharp enough to cut the bread.
I didn't know if they were laughing so loud because it was funny or because they felt like they had to. Either way, I was distracted by Jungkook's cheekbones every time he inhaled and how plush his lips looked with a cigarette balanced between them.
"Tell him to expect a call from Tucci, I'll get him a slot at Ronnie's as long as he doesn't turn up drunk, again," I say wrapping it all up by putting out my cigarette and getting up on my feet shaking the hands of all the disgusting strangers at the table "Gentlemen, I'm glad we've finally found some middle ground. Best of luck in the election."
I wink at the joke. There was no luck when we were involved.
We're walking out, standing in a line and watching the two men getting into their big black town car with smug grins as if they've conquered the world. I light another cigarette watching the car drive away into the late evening musk, the smoke heating up my body more than the thick coat on my shoulders.
The streets were starting to empty as people had long left their work and it was too soon for them to start drinking in the bars. The car reaches the first set of lights before it is engulfed in flames.
My heart jumps but my body is still, fully aware that I was standing close in between two men to whom I had something to prove.
Cars swerve in opposite directions, pulling up at either side of the sidewalk and some even try to approach the car but another sudden cloud of flames makes them think otherwise. The explosions don't stop as if nature isn't quite finished with the two jackasses in the car, not until they're dust.
This was a long time coming but recent events had pushed this plan into furious motion. Jimmy Walker's sorry face was the front page spread of every newspaper in the city in relation to a woman who was murdered shortly after coming forward about bribing in the police since he too had received these same payments. If even a dollar from that cash could be traced back to us we were near finished.
Jimmy Walker was a terrible excuse for a man, that was my reason and I felt like he deserved what he got. I know the others agreed mainly because he was half Irish.
I take a long drag, watching the flames part to reveal the skeleton of the car enjoying how it didn't look as arrogant or tasteless anymore. There were no screams, no blood, you couldn't even see the assholes inside being burned into fatty liquid on the soft leather.
The only thing I can say is:
"Asshole didn't even tip."
I was getting braver, seizing every opportunity I could to prove myself to the rest. It was only a matter of time before this started getting to my head. Ronnie's bar was trashed in a shootout with a couple of amateurs on the outskirts of the city and our own inside. We had to retaliate since it was half-owned by us and Ronnie was a very good friend who paid for protection.
It took less than 30 minutes to find the assholes and it got personal once we found out they were two of Jimmy Walker's old henchmen coming back for one last piece of pie. They sat in the middle of the bar, tied to chairs and gagged while we stood trying to figure out what to do with them.
But, I'd already made up my mind.
Jungkook stepped forward to the task but not even his brows sweetly furrowed or his shape in the tight-fitting clothing he wore could simmer the boiling inside of me. I was being cooked by my fury, it was the disrespect, the audacity that someone has to think they can mess with us.
It was clean and so quick no one even registered what happened until they saw the gun pointed at the slumped bodies and followed it to see me standing unblinking on the other end.
It was quiet again, judgement and unsaid words floating through the air like an overwhelming stench as I put the gun down and walk out. I took care of it like it was nothing.
Jungkook wasn't exactly the biggest supporter of my newfound courage as I had finally ridden myself of my training wheels and decided to go biking on my own. I found him watching me intently, studying my actions as if the way I rubbed my eyes was incredibly meaningful.
It made me angry because of how uneasy it was knowing that the person you trusted the most no longer trusted you.
But importantly, Jungkook had forgotten what his job was and though he was entitled to question my decisions he could in no way shape or form stop them.
Cleaning up the mess of Ronnies was easy. Instead of forking out to repair the place we just pulled an old trick out of the magician's hat and lit the place up and split the insurance. Our cut was currently sitting pretty in the middle of our poker table, blurring in the cloud of smoke that came from all the seats around it.
I was on fire. It was like everyone and everything was on my side as every card I touched brought home the cash despite the fact I was the one who needed it the least. That's not to say I didn't want it. Momentum was fierce and I was just dealing them all in when in walks- no stomps a very angry Jeon Jungkook.
I noticed him walk in as I always do taking a second to look at his arms and chest in his tight black top, a tiny smirk playing on my lips as I look down pretending as if I hadn't seen him at all.
"Jeon! We're just starting another round, want me to deal you in?" I call, still dealing the cards and voice slightly unclear with a cigarette in between my lips once more.
"Can I have a word?" his knuckles are white and cut up, nails digging into the palms of his hands as he balls up his fists. I make a point of noticing them as if asking him if he really was thinking about punching me too.
"I'm wiping the floor with these guys, what do you want?"
Jungkook takes another step, heavy boots almost splitting the creaky floorboards.
"Why the fuck was Torelli on the torching job with me?" he yells, voice way over the socially acceptable volume when talking respectfully to a Comare.
So the table goes quiet, the men stop drinking and smoking, their eyes fixed on the rude kid standing before them.
"That sounds an awful lot like a Consigliere questioning the Comare," I warn, one eyebrow-raising as I stop dealing.
"Why? Answer me goddamn it!" he continues to press, anger taking over his every sense.
"Take it easy, kid," Al Vittorio kindly tries to knock some sense into Jungkook but he wasn't having it.
Jungkook always was a stubborn little shit.
"Fuck you Al this doesn't concern you!" he explodes, tattooed finger pointed right at the older man in the comical glasses making the table erupt in muttering scolding madness "Why did you tell him to come along?"
"I thought you could use an extra pair of hands since your fingers are busy stuck in every pie there is around here."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't be stupid, you know what it means," I pick up my cards and the rest follow as we resume the game showing I have absolutely no desire to address this right now or ever.
I sigh, dramatically slamming my cards face down onto the table before muttering to the group smirking "Gotta go babysit, sorry to ruin my winning streak gentlemen maybe now you actually have a chance."
They all snicker with their heads low in their cards at the black-haired man, mocking him as I made intense glorious eye contact with him. I knew and took great pleasure in the fact that Jungkook hated being made fun of.
I place my hand around the back of his shoulder guiding him away
"Come on we'll talk it out, let's sort this out," I soothe him, pretending that I cared about his stupid problems when really all I wanted to do was play cards.
He almost falls for it until the office door shuts behind him and he's being pushed forcefully into an armchair. He lands with a winded grunt, my sudden strength taking him off guard and he's eyeing my every move as I take the chair opposite him with absolutely nothing between us to stop him from launching at me.
But even through the dark lighting, the dimming sunlight through the blinds lighting up just his electric eyes, you could see traces of fear and apprehension. He knew what I could do to him and he also knew I was no longer myself anymore.
"Who the fuck do you think you are to be talking to me like that? I pay your bills and put food on your table, show me some fucking respect."
Like a kid being scolded he realises his mistakes and like a kid who realises his mistakes he stays silent rather than apologises.
"You never spoke to my father like this so what's gotten into you?"
"Huh?" I raise my voice and I notice him jump at the sudden change.
"First he's staring at me, then he's trying to change the whole fucking plan, then he's mouthing my ear off so we almost don't drive away before the smoke starts pouring out and then I find out you personally asked him to be there and annoy the shit out of me," Jungkook rants, solid chest rising and falling rapidly as he's overcome with the memory of his annoying coworker.
"So what are you doing y/n?"
"Jungkook when you enter the mafia you have two choices in life: the first one is jail and the second is death. When you are a leader and you die, it will always be your best friend on the other side of that gun. I'm just making sure that isn't happening too soon."
He shakes his head at my distrust, my paranoia as if I was spitting out drug-induced nonsense. He doesn't linger on the fact that I just called him my best friend.
"This isn't you, you're being reckless, heartless, arrogant. And, I'm sorry but it's not you."
"I grew up. I suggest you do the some before it's too late," I hiss at Jungkook as he starts to stand, ready to leave the room and I'm watching his broad back contract. "And I haven't given you permission to leave so sit the fuck down!"
Jungkook, as the most childish grown man you know, stomps back over to the seat huffing in defeat and sits down dramatically, mocking your every order. But he still sits pressed right against the back of the chair, like there was a belt around it slowly tightening.
"You know what I can do and don't think for one second that I wouldn't do it to you because that's bullshit," you coldly begin eyes narrowed and suddenly emotionless at the man who used to mean everything to you "I could come into your room at night, fuck you up so hard they'd have to stitch you back together just so your mother wouldn't faint at the funeral and not lose a minute of sleep."
Jungkook's glare disappears, eyes settling into a state of despair as he's genuinely hurt. At that moment, I was too overcome with the horrible feeling of being challenged and disrespected that I realise that I was slowly losing him and myself along the way.
And, it just wasn't worth it.
"What would Tony say if he were here?" he asks thickly, not trying to get through to me but trying to make sense of his heartbreak.
He knew I couldn't talk about Tony, I couldn't even think about him because of my own guilt. Tony came to me a few nights a week hysterical about the inevitability of it all and I told him he didn't have a choice, that this was his life. I told him there was no escape for him so he found a way.
"Well, Tony isn't here you know why? Because he didn't have the balls. He couldn't fucking do it so he chose to drag us all down to hell with him."
I usually knew how to read Jungkook but at this moment, I didn't know what he was thinking. He was strangely unpredictable right now.
"I would rather die than know I failed your father. The day he died I promised that I would do everything I could to take care of you and make sure you succeeded. And, when I make a promise I don't back out so... go ahead," he pulls his gun out of his holster and slides it across the small table to me, relaxing back in his chair as he watches me eye it.
He waits smugly, not expecting me to pick it up and point it at his temple. Though my hands are shaking an awful feeling was making my finger tighten on the trigger. Of course, I didn't want to shoot him but he had hurt me.
Jungkook just confirmed that my father knew I couldn't do this alone, that I needed Jungkook or else I'd fail. I really thought Jungkook believed in me and wanted to be around me for the sake of being around me.
Himself, Jungkook wasn't sure. You could actually kill him and that scared him more than the thought of death itself. He looked like a rabbit in the woods, staring its hunter dead in the eye all wide-eyed and innocent.
But my hand shook for a reason, my body had a physical reaction to the possibility of a life without him so I put down the gun. I can't look at him, I can't look at him just in case his face shows shock that I didn't shoot him.
"Close the door on your way out."
It was always ironic to me that we believed in God when all he did was make life as hard for us as possible. It was also ironic how the entire family sat in our pews right at the front, declaring peace to men of goodwill in our prayers when I had just organised a hit on this kid who assaulted a friend's daughter.
But I did say peace to men of goodwill.
Every Sunday, as Catholics and normal civilians, we go to church and we make our peace begging for mercy for the things we have done in the name of sacrifice. Something's gotta give after all.
Marcello was walking me out, arm in arm as we whispered and mumbled something and everything.
"What's happening with you and the kid?" He asks as if he doesn't know, it's all anyone can talk or think about. Firstly, it's because the Comare and the Consigliere are not in contact, secondly, it's because it's me and Jungkook. Everyone thought we were going to get married.
"He's not fitting the job description too well, sticking his nose in where it's not wanted."
"You should give the kid a break Y/N," Marcello taps my gloved hand, holding it gently. I shouldn't have replaced him, he knew what he was doing. "I get it, when you get the job you've gotta step it up but maybe Jeon wasn't quite ready to see you change so much."
I sigh, shaking my head at the predicament.
"Did Ronnie get his cut?" I change the subject, not liking it so much when I'm talking anything but business with Marcello or the others. Marcello was the first to hold me when I was a baby when my father brought me home. Who knew one day I'd be ordering him around, asking him to kill and replacing him with just some guy I was in love with.
"Safe and sound. Jungkook delivered it yesterday."
"I thought I told you he's not the errand boy anymore?"
As much as I wanted to shoot him yesterday, I still respected him. They used to treat Jungkook like shit because he was only half Italian. They said racist things, ordered him around, made him refill their drinks, held guns on him while he did it, 'accidentally' dropped cigarettes on him. As soon as I found out I was barging in on a serious meeting, listening to my father chew me out for interrupting but I still remember the look in his eyes after I said:
"Jungkook isn't a bell boy. You hired him, you get him a proper job where he's not being burnt or bossed around. If you don't fix this, I will. And, it won't be pretty."
That was the day my father started respecting me when he started actually listening to what I said.
"He volunteered, said he needed to get out or something."
I look down remembering the conversation prior -if you could call it that- with anything but fondness.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Marcello mumbled, giving me a playful wink and tapping my hand one more for support knowing that this conversation would need it.
I turn just before I could get into the car, my body physically wincing at the sound of his voice. Seeing him run, his perfect hair bouncing and muscles carrying him wasn't the perfect agony anymore. It was just agony.
The church bell rings, people are still flocking out, mothers and son, daughters and their husbands, kids everyone. I leant against the car door, trying to get comfortable.
"I just wanted to let you know that Ronnie receive-"
He was breathtaking in a suit, a black one that fitted him so well because I was there pinching every seam for the tailor so he looked how I wanted him to look. I also took advantage of the opportunity to run my hands over his broad shoulders 'dusting it.' When he frowned he was even more breathtaking, he was always his prettiest when he looked a little scary.
"-and the cops got the car and found Jimmy, couldn't identify Paige straight away though but-"
I felt reckless, more than the numbness I'd feel when I made a decision. I was practically vibrating, drooling and my eyes were heavy with hunger. I couldn't stop my fingers from gripping his jacket and pulling him right into me so that we could've fallen through the window if he pushed back.
He puffs as he stumbles reaching out to grasp the roof of the car to steady himself against me. The shadow he cast, the way he looked down at me from this angle as if I was nothing and everything did nothing to help my leaping heart.
I kiss him before he can even think about pulling away or flinching and I could taste his hesitation.
I kept pulling him in trapping him against me just indulging myself for now and not caring that he wasn't determined to kiss me back or show any emotion. Kissing him was better than any of the times I'd imagined it over the past 5 years although this situation wasn't nearly as fake or elaborate as they were in my day, afternoon, morning and night dreams.
But a gust of air like he unscrewed some valve changed everything.
Jungkook sighs in relief.
Jungkook's hands trap me in place by squeezing my waist letting out a deep muffled groan at the feeling, pushing me so far into the car I was almost lying on top of it. We had completely taken over each other and it was fucking fantastic.
I almost forget we're in public until I open my eyes, intending to double-check if he was truly there if this was really a reality where I got to kiss Jeon Jungkook and have him kiss me back.
But what I saw was the reality I deserved.
There wasn't enough time to explain so I palm his chest, his heart jumping around like a golden retriever under it and push him so hard he fell right on the ground.
I wanted to tell him that I wasn't pushing him away and that I would've carried on forever but when there's a gun pointed right at your head so many yards away in the middle of a chatting crowd, no thoughts can process until after.
His swollen lovely lips are the last red thing I see that isn't blood.
And, I was fine with that because it meant he was alive.
There were two shots and they waited until they had a clear shot of just me to get me a third time. Shooting Jungkook would've been a waste of time. I slid down the car door holding my waist, leaving one long strip of red down the side of it like a racing stripe. There's another in my left shoulder but the adrenaline keeps away the pain temporarily so I pull out my gun and shoot that asshole right between his shitty eyes.
Less than 2 seconds later Jungkook was squeezing my jaw to keep my consciousness and it hurt like a bitch and scared the shit out of me to watch all of my insides leave my body and stain his gorgeous suit.
But, Jungkook's eyes were pumping out tears like he was giving them away, hands shaking not knowing what to do despite his lengthy training as I cursed through the pain.
"You're so fucking stupid, so fucking stupid," he mumbled pretending he wasn't crying by wiping them away before I could see. He took off his jacket and started ripping the thick material with his bare hands and started to wrap up the pumping holes in my body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept whispering as I dug a hole into the ground with my head, the pain was unbearable so much so that it was hard to react at all since every ounce of energy I had was being spent trying to keep my eyes open. "Your dad's gonna kill me when I die."
"Don't you dare fucking close your eyes you hear me?" he yelled in my face through the fear, hand grabbing my chin again but his thumb lingers sweetly on my bottom lip. "Why the fuck did you do that? It's not your job to get shot for your men."
He kept calling me stupid, kept wrapping me up like a Christmas present all out of guilt.
"But it is for the people you love," I swallow, trying hard to get out my words before it's too late. I
didn't want to hurt him anymore but at least it would give a super cool reason, an extra line to say at my funeral that would make it a little more special. That I was capable of love.
Jungkook stops his actions, looks away and buries his face in his hands harshly as I'm gripping onto my vision and awareness of my surroundings.
But when he looks back there's determination like I've never seen before.
"You're not dying on me, you're not fucking leaving me so help me God," he spits to the universe tightening the bandages before starting to lift me off the ground "You hate your father and your brother for leaving you and I'm not letting you do the same to me! You hear?"
I don't remember much about the ambulance ride just how I took my gun out of my trousers and placed it on my lap when they wouldn't let Jungkook in with me despite his loud protests and the feeling of his lips permanently fixed to the back of my hand unwilling to let me go.
