Much like YeongMi, Namjoon didn't sleep that night.

Instead, he spent his time switching between intense regret and over-powering anger.

It was exhausting, really.

The bed didn't give him any comfort; he was far too upset to notice anything but his thoughts.

Did he go too far?

Was he too rash?

Should he apologize?

Perhaps it was the fact that YeongMi had this inviolable ability to set every single cell in his body on fire that kept him in this struggle of remorse and apathy. 

During the good moments, this ability was appreciated, as it made every sensation that much more electrified. It was an experience he could hardly describe accurately.

However, during the bad moments, it had proven to intensify the situation negatively, causing all of their emotions to be amplified, resulting in an explosion of an argument.

That was the price to pay for the escalated passion; the good moments may seem perfect, but the bad times would be absolutely awful.

He took a long time to consider all of his options. He didn't want to make another decision until he gathered all of his knowledge and found the best option.

If only he had thought that last night, then maybe this situation would never have happened.

However, this only left him more confused.

And everything depended on YeongMi's reaction, and whether or not she would be willing to forgive him, or ignore him. Or whatever else that hyperactive mind of hers could come up with.

And he had a feeling that whatever she chose, it wouldn't be nice.

He realized that he had spoken too hastily, and said some things that, while true, could have been approached in a much more eloquent, considerate way.

But she had jumped at him so fast, and the argument had gotten out of control before he could even realize it.

His blood had been boiling, more than any other time he could recall.

She had this ability to make him so mad, so frustrated, and so insanely -

Jealous.

By god, he was jealous.

He was blinded by it.

As soon as he had seen her in that shirt, and known that it wasn't hers - not that he had memorized all her outfits, of course - any hope for reconciliation had gone out of the window.

The thoughts had made his body fill in toxic, hateful emotion, and he had made a bigger mess of things.

Even now, the image of her in that unfamiliar shirt was enough to make him feel sick.

Someone else touching her, someone else seeing her, sharing her so fully- 

He didn't want to think about it.

He had noticed it, of course he had noticed it. Her dynamic with the other boys, who were idols, nonetheless. It was comfortable, affectionate, and insanely irritating to him.

He couldn't even hope to understand it; childhood friends, friends from a time that he knew nothing about.

How could he compare to that? All the shared memories, inside jokes and familiar, natural ease?

And next to idols, how was he to compare? He couldn't dream of it.

He sat stiffly, not happy with his realization.

His mind was racing, sifting through all of the options.

Who was it that she had escaped to see?

There were so many of them, and she looked infinitely happier with them than she had with him.

Though there were still some who seemed to be closer with her.

Did he really believe that she had gone to have sex?

Why else would she have left? It's not like she wasn't enjoying the party; he had seen her dancing with Jimin, a wide smile coating her face as she held his arms and moved in step with him.

It had been beautiful, nothing like Namjoon's dancing.

She had looked perfect, even if he didn't like that she had been with Jimin.

Or anyone else.

Anyone else but him.

But that was stupid; she didn't want to love anyone, least of all him.

And who was he to catch feelings for a friend?

That is precisely why he had to get over this interest in her. It would never work out, and it would only make things worse between them.

That night they shared may have been his favourite, but it couldn't happen again.

Not that he would even be lucky enough for that, after their behaviour last night.

Namjoon sighed, running his fingers through his hair and tugging lightly.

Why did everything have to go wrong when it came to YeongMi?

He could never get it right.

It was like she was so obsessed with the fact that nothing would go right, that she ruined everything for herself.

But he couldn't just blame her; he was at fault too.

Maybe they just weren't meant to work out.

He had to keep that in mind, and move past any delusions that a future between them was possible.