Ch7.

                                    

                                          
PRESENT…
Jungkook rolled over in bed, groaning as the sunlight streaming through the blinds pierced his aching head. His body felt like lead, and his shoulder ached from the run-in with that damn plant. As he sat up, the events of the previous night rushed back like a bad dream—the moment he leaned in to kiss Hanna.  
“What the hell were you thinking, idiot? She has a boyfriend. A crappy one, but still.”  
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Reluctantly, he picked it up, squinting at the screen.  
**Hanna:** *Meet me at 2 PM. Yujin Café. Need to talk.*  
Jungkook pushed his head in pillow. “Of course she wants to talk.” He could already imagine her scolding him, maybe telling him to stay away from her. Or worse, telling Sujoo.  
“Just don’t go,” he told himself, tossing the phone aside. “You don’t need to make this more awkward.”  
But as the clock ticked closer to 2 PM, he found himself pacing his small apartment, unable to shake the curiosity—or guilt. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he grabbed his jacket and headed out.
“It can't be that bad.”


***


The café was quiet, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and indie music humming softly in the background. Jungkook spotted Hanna sitting by the window, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. She looked up when he walked in. 
“Hey,” he said cautiously, sliding into the chair across from her.  
“You came,” Hanna said simply, wrapping her hands around the cup.  
“Yeah, well… your text sounded serious.”  
She didn’t respond right away, instead pulling an envelope out of her bag and sliding it across the table.  
“What’s this?” Jungkook asked, taking the envelope in hand.  
“Open it.”  
He hesitated, then tore the envelope open. Inside was a stack of cash.  
Hanna spoke quickly, her voice measured. “It’s for the leaks in my apartment. I know you were squatting in 11-A before, and it’s probably why the place is falling apart. Just… use it to fix the damage or pay someone to.”  
Jungkook stared at the money for a while. 
“Hanna,” he said slowly, “you think I’m some charity case?”  
“It’s not like that,” she insisted. “I just—”  
“No, I get it. You think I’m broke, a freeloader, and now you want to throw money at me to ease your conscience.”  
“That’s not fair,” Hanna said, her voice rising slightly.  
“No, what’s not fair is this,” Jungkook snapped, standing abruptly. “I came here because I thought you actually wanted to talk to me, not hand me an envelope like I’m some pity project.”  
“Jungkook, wait—” Hanna started, but he was already walking out.  
The bell above the café door jingled as Hanna rushed after him, but in her hurry, she caught her foot on the doorframe and stumbled.  
She hit the ground hard, her knees scraping against the pavement. “Ah, damn it,” she hissed, clutching her leg.  
Jungkook, already halfway down the block, turned when he heard her. “Seriously?” he cuesed under his breath, jogging back toward her.