what do you do when you lose the person you love?

what if that's the only time you loved like that?

you write about it, according to Jungkook. you write until your hand hurts, your fingers get blisters, your eyes are shaking in a hazy cosmos of a love you lost.

how else would you tell a love story? you have to find it.

the mysterious writer makes his way through the crowds of the city- hands in the pockets of his long coat that doesn't protect him from the cold. he swirls around people, avoiding contact as he makes his way to the place he's meeting someone.

his past someone.

is she now someone's someone? no longer his.

Jungkook arrives, stepping into the electric place, decorated with fairy lights. the place is filled. it's atmosphere is light, difficult to the eyes as everyone chats in their own conversations. he spots the person he hasn't seen in years- the same person he thought he'd never see again.

she's here. she's actually here.

obviously dumbass, she's the one who contacted you.

Jungkook's heart bleeds furiously. he can't get a grip of anything because it falls through the gaps in his hands. every drip of knowing, raw heartbreak falls to the floor, flooding immensely. it doesn't compare to the way his heart reacted every time he wrote about her. no, this is ten times worse. this is stripping him of every emotion he's ever felt about her. about them.

their eyes meet.

brown meets brown and Jungkook wants to cry.

she's the one i couldn't fight for and she's smiling at him.

Jungkook forces himself to smile back at the writer he fell in love with. the one he still writes about. what else would you expect? the curse of never forgetting, always writing is inevitable.

his shivering hands slip out of his pockets, skin around his rings red as he makes his way over to her. she stands, greeting him as he greets her and it all hurts.

Jungkook stills when Verona wraps her arms around him.

she hugs him.

after years of not contacting, of the distance and silence, of writing and acting like none of them cared- they meet again and they hug in the middle of a bar, in a city that is sleep deprived.

both writers ache.

Jungkook doesn't know how to react when Verona hugs him. he believes he doesn't deserve to be hugged by her. all he can think about is how his hands slowly reach her back, hers reaching to tangle around his neck as they feel close.

closure was never found.

Jungkook holds her securely. he feels his eyes shake with water because this time, she isn't his. she isn't his. so he holds her tighter by the waist because she isn't his.

"what if i said i was still in love with you?"

Verona's eyes are wide as she notices silent, unchanging Jungkook avoiding eye contact. they're walking along the muted river side, street lamps reflecting onto their ageing faces, unexpected moon reflecting onto the shimmering water. "are you?" her voice is a whisper. she's afraid of what he'll say next. the writer shall always surprise her and be her love.

"what a daft idea. of course not."

he's lying.

and she knows it.

Verona smiles.

she steps in front of the writer she has fond memories of. nothing but happy memories. she sees black hair, messy under his fingertips as he pushes it away, brown, soulful eyes, the hands of a writer- god, those hands, kissable lips and she sees right through him. just the way she did years ago, even on phone calls and across the border when they hadn't met.

"what a daft idea." Verona mimicks his words as she steps closer, connecting their lips with a kiss under the moonlight. her past thoughts about her now being impulsive rings through their ears and they both know, they're both certain that they'll be writing about this very moment.

"i still want you too."

i was feeling emotional so here's a surprise chapter