NEVA BEAMED OVER towards the enigma that Jungkook was. 

He was dry retching, rather unattractively, following a shot of god knows what. He'd always been terrible a shotting.

Eyes unclenching, a smile rested on his lips, tongue running across them to rid them of alcohol. He looked like everything Neva had hoped he would do at this age: happiness, optimism and, bizarrely, like home.

Feeling her eyes on him, he glanced over towards her, casting a quick jovial grimace. He was bored of the conversation that he was in, but was keeping it entertained just to not appear rude.

He so desperately wanted to turn on his heel and sink into the sofa beside Neva.

He didn't care about meeting new people anymore. 

He had met enough. 

He never liked anyone as much as he liked Neva.

"What's going on with you two?" Cassie grinned, clocking Neva's gaze. 

"With who?" Neva played dumb, earning a laugh from her roommate.

"New game," Cassie announced with vigour. If she wanted Neva to open up, she'd need a few more shots in her. "Truth or drink."

"Dangerous game," Tae groaned. He was on the same couch as Neva, body slumped over to the side, water in hand. His head was facedown in the armrest, and would most likely stay that way all night. The dirty pint had well and truly wrecked him. 

"Fat chance," Neva snorted. "I choose drink, every time."

They were giggling, knowing that Neva was doing a horrible job of pretending like she and Jungkook weren't flirting with danger. 

The danger? Falling in love, again, of course. The most dangerous thing of all, in Neva's mind.

Hellbent on giving Cassie absolutely no ammunition, Neva spent her night mingling with everyone but Jungkook. She caught his eye every ten minutes or so, sharing a grin or a bitten lip; sparkling eyes that were flecked in shooting stars that both of them were too cowardly to wish upon.

Eventually, she grew tired of staying away from him.

She missed the scent of his aftershave - plus she knew that all she had to do was mention a burger and fries, and he'd be ordering a cab straight away to take them to Maccies. That was the one thing she was really after.

Heading towards the door, Neva felt an unwelcome presence.

Not now, not now, not now.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

Neva turned, her smile false. "Mark."

He was drunk, that much was certain. Beer had been spilt down his grey t-shirt, speckling it in darker shades, though it could have just been his sweat. With a jaw gurning like his was, she knew that he must have been high on something strong enough to tranquillize a horse.

Cornered, and surrounded by people that she didn't know, Neva felt uneasy. 

Her eyeliner was smudged and out of place, no longer sharp and pointed as it had been - but then again, nor was she. Neva felt uncharacteristically small. Maybe she'd just had one too many, or perhaps she was well aware of the way it felt to have his clammy palms cut off the circulation to her wrists. Whatever it was, she didn't like it.

"I think my friends are looking for me," she said. The nod of her head and the small smile were concise, straight to the point.

"They're not," he asserted. Neva was breathing exclusively through her nose, trying to balance herself. 

Except, Mark was wrong.

A third-year had just taught Jungkook a card trick, and he was haphazardly hunting through the party to find Neva, just so that he could show off. He'd do it wrong, no doubt, far too drunk to pull it off, but she'd giggle and call him stupid, and they'd spend the rest of the night playing wizards.

His expectations of the night changed when he heard Neva laugh in the entrance hall. He was drawn to it, as always, but there was something different about it.

It was the kind of laugh that wasn't really laugh; the kind that shakily tried to form a protective barrier around the person emitting it. Jungkook had heard this laugh before.

He'd heard it in bars, while women went to order drinks alone, only to be interrupted by a man questioning why they were alone. Occasionally, he'd heard it on the streets and sometimes even on campus. There was always one thing in common: a young woman and an older man.

Jungkook knew it wasn't the laugh of someone enjoying themselves.

It was a laugh that came from fear; from builders yelling at teenage girls to 'smile' and from women who didn't have any reason to 'be alone' other than the fact they wanted to be alone.

He'd never heard his favourite laugh distorted in such a way, but now that he had, he felt sick. 

Blinded by red, Jungkook entered the bullfighting ring, ready to decimate the matador who had been taunting him. 

"Eva?" he spoke with a tone that commanded attention. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine," she nodded towards him, hoping that he'd be able to read her body language.

Not once did Jungkook turn to look at Mark.

His attention was focused solely on Neva, wide pupils darting over her face, her shoulders, the drink she was cradling in her hands.

He was drunk, and he knew that it probably distorted his vision, but he was utterly convinced that he'd never seen her look more beautiful. 

Flushed cheeks - from the vodka, no doubt - and raspberry pink lips matched the way he knew she'd taste thanks to her choice of drink.

Her hair was hanging loose, hiding the curve of her neck that Jungkook hadn't been able to get out of his head since it rested on his chest as she slept against him last week. 

"We're going," he told her with absolute certainty. 

"We're in the middle of something," Mark interjected, not about to have the girl he'd been grafting on taken from him. He edged in closer to Neva, draping his arm around her shoulder, staring Jungkook out. "And I know you're the little fucker screwing Jen, so don't give me all that bullshit about being her boyfriend."

Ah, Neva pursed her lips together. So this is what it was all about. 

This wasn't a fight over her at all. It was a fight over Jen, and she just happened to be collateral. The acknowledgement didn't make Neva feel any better about the situation; in fact, it made her feel worse.

"Jen's upstairs with some third-year mech-eng student," Jungkook shrugged, vaguely aware of passing them both on the way to the bathroom earlier on in the night. 

"So you've been rejected and want Neva as a consolation prize?" Mark sneered, his bodyweight leaning uncomfortably on the girl who was far smaller in stature than he was. "What an asshole," he smirked against her ear, at which point she knew she needed to get herself away from the situation. 

She didn't want to be around either of them. Marks words about Jungkook's motives could have been true and she hated it. She hated that he was only there because his current hook up was busy. 

Wriggling from his grasp, Neva was just about free when he clasped her wrist. Again. 

"My friends are looking for me," she repeated.

Jungkook wanted to scream that he was her friend and that he had already found her - but he was too distracted by the whites of Marks knuckles, all too aware that he was hurting Neva. 

"I'm gonna give you three seconds to get your hands off her," Jungkook said coldly, though his eyes, still, were on Neva.

Are you okay? Are you hurt? Tell me what you want. Shall we go home? You're so gorgeous. Shall we get the others? Go to a club? Get food? I'll do whatever you want.

Her eyes were on his too, channelling hurt that was thinly veiled with pride. 

You stay. I'm leaving. Alone.

"Three," Jungkook began to countdown.

He wasn't listening to Mark's retorts.

"Two..."

Why couldn't he read Neva's eyes? What was she saying?

"Two and a half..."

Mark really didn't deserve that extra half a second, but Jungkook had kind of been banking on him letting Neva go. He hadn't considered a reality where he'd actually have to, yanno, make him.

Neva almost told Jungkook to leave it. He didn't actually want her, after all. She knew Jungkook would be with Jen, if he'd have had the opportunity. 

Before she got the chance, she was stumbling backwards, thanks to the grip that Mark has on her wrist. He fell against the wall, finally letting go of Neva. 

Jungkook's fist was recoiling, after landing a punch heavy enough to draw blood from Mark's nose. 

Flared nostrils and a taut jaw were framed by strands of Jungkook's hair falling over his eyes. He was on the balls of his feet, the muscle memory of being squared up to a punching bag embedded in his DNA. His dark eyes were inky pools, rewriting his appearance entirely. It had been years since Neva had seen him look like this.

"Kook," Neva's voice was stern, chest heavy. Eyes trained on Jungkook's, she was watching for a sign of him, the boy she knew, to return to the stranger in front of her. "We'll go. Let's go."

She couldn't let Jungkook get himself riled up like this, not again. He wasn't that person anymore, and she'd be damned if she let him revisit old haunts right in front of her eyes.

His grades hadn't been the only thing he'd been ashamed of when he and Neva had first been assigned desks next to one another in high school. 

With a penchant for trouble, and pretty bloody good at landing a punch, it seemed like he'd had more fights than he'd had hot dinners. Playground scraps, skate park altercations, you name it, he'd done it. Anything for just a little rush.

With Neva, he found himself addicted to a completely different kind of rush; one that actually made him appreciate slowing down. She'd mellowed him, a calming influence on his reckless adolescent years. 

Without her, he was entirely convinced that he would have ended up in juvy. She'd never admitted it, but she had stayed away from him for years because she had thought the same thing. It was remarkable, really, the domino effect of a mindless seating plan from a teacher neither of them could remember any more.

"Hey, Kook, hey," she said, desperately trying to get him to calm down. "Let's go."

Mark was seething, spouting off bullshit about Jungkook that neither of them were listening to. 

"Will you just fuck off?" Neva snapped. Her eyes bore into him, willing daggers to slice up his vocal cords just so that he would shut up. "You've done enough damage, you fuckwit. Get some ice for your face, and fuck off."

He stood perplexed for a moment, until Hobi, one of the boys hosting the party, leant against the doorway. 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He goaded, staring down the oaf who apparently didn't know when he wasn't welcome. "Mark causing trouble? Again? Really, Mark?"

"I wasn-"

"Out."

Hobi was respected on campus; the president of three societies and on track to becoming one of the most prolific charity fundraisers the university had ever had in its alumni. Getting on the bad side of Hobi was a death sentence, and it seemed like Mark was well on his way to deciding what kind of execution he'd like.

Mark did as he was told, tail between his legs as Hobi saw him out.

"You two alright?" Hobi asked, knowing that Mark went looking for trouble wherever he went. Quietly, he was pleased that someone had put him in his place.

"Yeah, fine, thank you," Neva nodded, very much aware that Jungkook was still completely phased out. "I'm really sorry about that."

"Not your fault," Hobi shook his head. "Trust me, I know. My rooms third on the left upstairs, if he needs a second to calm down," he nodded towards a still unresponsive Jungkook. He didn't know the kid, but he had an enviable knack of being able to weed out the bad eggs. Jungkook wasn't one of them.

Leaving Neva to deal with Jungkook, Hobi went to give their friends a heads up on what had happened. 

Just the two of them now, the bass of shitty house music echoed through the poky room. Neva wasn't entirely sure what to do. When they were teenagers, before life got complicated, she'd always known exactly how to bring him back to her - but she couldn't kiss him now. Not like she used to.

Hand cradling his jaw, Neva turned him to face her. His palms were still clenched, but they began to soften. One raised to rest itself above her hip, the other on her arm.

Jungkook swallowed sharply, eyes closing, painfully aware of how fucked up his outburst had been. 

"Eva, I'm sorry," his voice was hushed, eyes falling almost as soon as he looked at her. He couldn't look at her, not right now. Her honest eyes and protective aura only made him feel even more guilty. 

He knew how she felt about violence; how she felt about aggression. He should have handled it better, he shouldn't have gotten himself so heated, he should have-

"Kook," her voice was soft. It washed over him like a warm shower after a long days work, cleansing him of the wrongs that he had done - but he could still feel the ache in his knuckles.

Catching Cassie's startled gaze as she appeared in the doorway, Jungkook knew that there was no conceivable way to fix the night that he had broken. 

He'd fucked it all up. Everything.

"Stay with Cassie, alright?" he said timidly, as he stroked his thumb up and down Neva's shoulder. "Let me know when you get home safe, okay?"

"Kook-"

"Okay? Just say okay, Eva."

"I'll come with you."

"No, you won't."

His hand edged upwards, resting on the underside of her jaw. Pulling her in towards him, Jungkook's lips pressed tenderly onto her forehead.

Neva stopped breathing.

She went to protest, but he had left the room before she could even articulate a single word. 

Into the midnight city he went, wishing the sky would open up and swallow him whole.

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a/n: just for the record, mark isn't the mark, was literally just a random name (same for jen lol)