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casnextdoor · 3 years

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PAPER HEART

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a/n; i wrote this solely because i have fallen in love with jk’s cover of tori kelly’s paper hearts . i bawled my eyes out to it while reading ‘under the sky in room 553 i discovered you and i’ it was VERY ANGSTY and i was sad . 10/10 def recommend. anywho enjoy

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The lights around the stage were bright, blinding. The fans were loud, a consistent chant of Jungkook’s stage name the only thing being heard in the stadium. Even after two months of seeing and hearing this night after night, he still couldn’t believe this was all for him. It was always at the end of his set, when he’d sit on the wooden stool in the dead centre of the stage, that he’d hear your voice. He’d hear you telling him he deserved this and more. You were supposed to be here.

He waited for the stadium to quiet, and just like every night prior, the fans' loud roar turned into ambient muttering. So with a heavy heart, he deposited a guitar pick from his pocket and started experimentally picking and strumming at the acoustic guitar that sat comfortably on his thighs. He knew the cords like the back of his hand -- having played it for you more times than he could count -- so he found his rhythm with ease.

It felt like just yesterday when you’d sat with him in his studio, helping him create the song that would break his heart every time he played it.

Your smile. That's what really caught his attention that day. Everyday since the two of you had met, he’d picked another physical feature of yours to obsess over every time he’d see you. Your perfect set of pearly whites with a little bit of an overbite had his heart beating recklessly against his ribcage today. The septum piercing hanging right above your cupid's-bow fell over your lips when they’d pulled up into that signature grin of yours. He’d die happy if it were the last thing he’d ever seen, he’d decided.

You’re guitar -- the black one he’d gifted you sophomore year as an early birthday gift -- hung loosely over your shoulder in its case. It made him smile that you’d kept after so long -- that you’d kept him around for so long.

“Okay, Noona. Why are we here?” Jungkook wouldn’t lie, he had never gotten dressed as quickly as he had when he’d received a text from you telling him to meet you at his studio. He almost ran out of the dorms with no shoes on -- he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“Remember when you told me you couldn’t write? When you said you couldn’t find lyrics to go to the guitar piece you composed?” You’d excitedly plopped down on the black leather couch on the other side of his studio; you’d picked that couch.

Jungkook hummed, eyeing you skeptically. He didn’t know where this was going. Looking back now, he should’ve had a clue; this was such a you thing to do, after all. But at the time, he had no idea where this conversation or impromptu meet up was headed.

“Well, fret no longer, my friend. I spent all night writing you lyrics.” Your smile was so big and your hands were a bit fidget-y as you unzipped your guitar case; a tell-tale sign that you had been drinking coffee again. It was painfully endearing that you’d stayed up all night just writing him lyrics. And he found it absolutely adorable that instead of waiting until the morning to call him, you’d texted him at two in the morning, demanding that he meet you. He had to purse his lips to refrain from smiling too hard.

“You do realize it's almost three in the morning, right, Flower?” Jungkook’s amused chuckle caused an embarrassing amount of heat to course through your body. You nodded sheepishly, hands gripping nervously at the neck of your guitar. You’d pray he couldn’t see how nervous you were so you instead pulled your lips up into a scowl and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Do you wanna hear ‘em or not?” There was no real edge to your voice, and Jungkook knew you’d just been looking for a way to channel your nerves into something less embarrassing than a nervous chuckle.

He nodded, leaning back into his rolling office chair and had he always been so big? His gaze never left you and you could almost feel the weight of his eyes on you. You’d avert your gaze away from him and down toward the strings of your guitar, in fear that if you look at him, he’d hear the loud love confessions your brain was screaming at him. You grumbled at him to record a voice memo -- you were not going to give him your lyric book.

You’d picked and strummed at the guitar until you’d found and stayed with the melody you were looking for. You played the sequence for a bit longer just to make sure you wouldn’t mess up. You figured you were ready after about thirty seconds of just blue music. So you cleared your voice and started singing.

Remember the way you made me feel, such young love but,

Jungkook realized that no matter what you’d written, he would’ve loved it anyway -- it was you, after all.

Something in me knew that it was real. Frozen in my head.

Pictures I’m living through for now

Trying to remember all the good times

He could listen to you for hours. There was something so serene, he thought, about listening to the love of your life sing a song they’d written just for you.

Our life was cutting through so loud. Memories are playing in my dull mind.

Has his gaze always been this heavy? Has your heart always beat this fast for him? Have you always wanted someone to love you back this much? No, you supposed you hadn’t. But there’s a first for everything.

I hate this part, paper hearts. And I’ll hold a piece of yours.

Don’t think I would just forget about it.

Hoping that you won’t forget about it.

That was four years ago. Four years ago. He remembered staring at you while you sang the entire song. He remembered just watching you in silence for five minutes. He remembered the way you bit down at your lip and avoided his gaze like the black plague. He remembered leaning forward and pulling your lip from under your teeth. He remembered the way he brushed his nose against yours and telling you -- his flower -- how much he loved it, the song. He remembered kissing you and taking you right there in the studio. He remembered just how gorgeous you were in such a euphoric state. He remembered he told you he loved you more times than he could count that night.

And he remembered the chaos that ensued after, leading you to giving him full custody and access to the song and moving out of the city. Just to get away from him.

He hadn’t sung the song or even recorded it since. He listened to the voice memo with the song and your beautiful euphoric sounds on it every night for two months. He’d cried to that memo. He’d gotten off to that memo. And soon he had to move it to the archives; he wouldn’t allow himself to break anymore.

A part of moving on is making amends. He was in your town because of touring. And before he knew what he was doing, he was adding the song to the performance sequence and shooting you a text.

I’m in your city. For a tour of course. And I’m singing paper hearts for the first time tonight. And I want you to sing it with me. If your email is the same I’ll send you a guest pass. You don’t have to come, but… I would love it if you did :)

You’d left him on delivered. You hadn’t even opened the message. He sent the pass anyway, hoping to the heavens that you would receive it.

He strummed at the guitar strings, trying to keep his eyes from scanning the crowd for you. But when he started singing he couldn’t help but look for those gorgeous eyes and that bright smile he hadn’t seen in four years.

Everything is gray under these skies, wet mascara

Hiding every cloud under a smile, when there’s cameras

And I just can’t reach out to tell you

That I always wonder what you’re up to

That isn’t my voice, he thought, eyebrows creasing in confusion as he looked toward the stage manager who was normally off on the right wing.

And there you were. You were still as beautiful as he remembered. Just as breathtaking as he remembered.

You walked toward him, steps slow and calculated as you stopped just behind him, placing a soft hand onto his shoulder and pressing your front to his back.

Your hand slid down his chest as you used his physical form to ground you and keep you level headed; he was just as good looking as he was all those years ago and you couldn’t help but replay that night in the studio as you reached the next verse.

Pictures I’m living through for now, Trying to remember all the good times

Our life was cutting through, Memories are playing in my dull mind

I hate this part, paper hearts. And I’ll hold a piece of yours

Don’t think I would just forget about it. Hoping that you won’t forget about it.

Jungkook stopped singing completely -- he loved it when you sang this part.

I live through pictures as if I was right there by your side

But you’ll be good without me and if I could just give you some time I’ll be alright.

And then there was nothing. No screaming fans, no guitar, no singing. It was just you. And him. In the middle of this big sea called the universe. Because you’d come back to him. You’d found your way back to him and he decided right then he wouldn’t let you go.

So with the hand that was just gripping the neck of the guitar, he was lightly gripping the back of your neck, pulling you down firmly. He brushed his nose against yours before whispering:

“It's beautiful, Flower. Where’d you learn to sing like that?” You laughed at that.

“I learned from the best, Kookie.” And then his lips were on yours and the entire world really disappeared.

#bts #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader

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