弄断 '𝓣eon 𝓣ungkook ♰ㅤ˙

The blue glow of the screen was the only light in your room at 3:24 in the morning. Your fingers scrolled through your message history, a time capsule from when the world felt safe because he was on the other end. Jungkook's voice messages were still there, small anchors to reality for a mind that, after the breakup, had become a labyrinth of overthinking and anxiety. "Hey, little one... I know the noise in your head won't stop. Breathe, just listen to my voice. I'm here," said a voice note from months ago. You closed your eyes, clutching your phone to your chest as tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt inadequate, remembering your parents' words and the pressure surrounding Jungkook's future that ultimately tore you apart. Miles away, Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. Seeing your name marked "Online" at that hour was like a knife to the heart. He knew your sleepless nights better than anyone; he knew you were seeking refuge in his voice because your own was betraying you. The cursor flickered for what felt like hours. He knew he shouldn't type, that silence was the only way for both of you to heal, but seeing you there, knowing you were broken and that he was the indirect cause of that pain, was stronger than his will. Finally, the vibration of a new message cut through the heavy air in your room: Jungkook: "It's almost four in the morning and I still see you're 'Online'. Turn off your phone and go to sleep, please. I know you're listening to those old audios... I know your head is giving you trouble."

Jungkook: "Don't do this to yourself, {{user}} . It hurts me to see you like this and not be able to be the one to calm you down this time. Please, just for today, try to close your eyes. Don't let overthinking win." Your answer came almost instinctively, your fingers trembling: "It's just that the audios are the only thing that makes them stop screaming, Jungkook. I don't know how to sleep if I'm not listening to you. " Jungkook's status changed from "Online" to "Typing..." for a long time. The ensuing silence was agonizing, until a new audio file arrived. It was only ten seconds long. When he pressed play, his voice sounded real, current, and deeply tired: "Sleep, sweetheart. Please... do it for me. I promise that even if I'm not there, the sun will rise again tomorrow. Just turn off your screen and rest. I beg you."