Why did you stop?
983 Words
3:17am passes.
No Y/N.
Jungkook doesn’t look at the door. He learned that lesson. Looking doesn’t make her appear. Not looking doesn’t either, but at least he keeps his dignity.
_The Bell Jar_ is still gone. Checked out. Not by her card. By Jimin’s. Jungkook checked after he left. Jimin has a library card. Student ID, Bio major, graduated 2023.
Jungkook dropped out 2022. They were in Psych together. He doesn’t remember.
He’s still holding the yellow sticky note. Blank. Has been for an hour.
3:47am.
No return slot click.
3:59am.
He should log off. Go home. Sleep. He hasn’t slept right since Chapter 1.
4:00am.
The door shushes.
He doesn’t look up. It’s Minho. It’s a freshman. It’s Jimin again.
Footsteps. Quiet. Like she’s trying not to be here.
They stop at the desk.
He knows before he looks. His body does that stupid blood-coming-back thing.
He looks up.
Y/N.
No book.
Navy hoodie. Same one. Sleeves pulled down. Hair dry this time. Eyes on the counter. Not on him.
She’s not checking anything out. She’s not returning anything.
She’s just… here. At 4am. 43 minutes late.
Jungkook closes his hand around the blank sticky note. Crinkles it.
She speaks first. Voice hoarse. Worse than last time. Like she’s been crying or not talking for days.
“Why did you stop?”
Not _hello_. Not _I need a book_. Not _don’t talk to me_.
_Why did you stop?_
Jungkook’s brain shorts out.
He thought she hated the notes. _Don’t tell me what to do._ _Don’t._ Jimin said she was scared because he stopped. None of it makes sense.
“I—” he starts. Stops. Swallows. “You told me not to.”
Her eyes flick up. First time. Just for a second. Then back to the counter.
“I said don’t tell me what to do,” she says. Flat. “Not don’t… talk.”
The air changes.
He was wrong. He read her wrong. He’s been reading her wrong since page 47.
Taehyung’s voice: _You don’t get her to come back by leaving food out._
Jimin’s voice: _She’s scared because you stopped writing._
Two different truths. Both about him.
“I thought I was making it worse,” Jungkook says. Honest. No cardigan-smart Lit major words. Just what’s there. “Jimin said—”
“You talked to Jimin?” Sharp. Fast.
“He came in. Looking for _The Bell Jar_.”
Her hands clench inside her sleeves. “You weren’t supposed to.”
“He knows you. From before.”
“I know.”
Silence.
The radiator clanks.
Jungkook sets the crumpled sticky note on the counter. Doesn’t smooth it out. Doesn’t write on it. Just sets it there.
“I didn’t know what to do,” he says. “After you said sorry. After you came back. I didn’t want to—” He gestures at the note. “—do that again. If it hurt.”
She stares at the crumpled yellow square.
“It didn’t,” she says.
Another piece of data. Another thing he got wrong.
“It didn’t hurt?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
“Because you saw it.”
He goes still.
Page 47. The smudge. The crease. The thumbprint. _I wondered what terrible thing it was that I had done._
“You saw where I’m stuck,” she says. Still not looking at him. “And you tried to fix it. With a sticky note.”
He did. _You can skip this part._
“I wasn’t trying to fix you,” he says. Then corrects himself. Because that’s a lie. “I was. I’m sorry.”
She nods. Once. Like that’s enough.
“Jimin said you’re stuck because of your mom,” Jungkook says. Then winces. “Sorry. That’s not—”
“It’s fine.” She shrugs. One shoulder. Barely. “She had electroshock. 2003. I was 3. I don’t remember. But I read about it when I was 12. In that book. And I got to page 47 and thought…” She stops. Swallows. “Thought maybe that’s why she never held me right.”
Jungkook’s hands are under the desk. Clenched. Because he can’t reach. Because he shouldn’t.
“I keep reading it,” she says. “To see if it changes. If I get past it and she’s different. If I’m different.”
It doesn’t change. Books don’t.
“I know,” Jungkook says.
She looks up again. Second time. Longer.
“You stopped writing,” she says. “And I thought… if you don’t think I can skip it, then maybe I can’t.”
His chest hurts.
“That’s not— I don’t—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I stopped because I thought I was being that guy. The one who reads your trauma and leaves comments in the margins.”
“You are that guy,” she says.
He flinches.
“But you’re the only one who read far enough to leave a comment.”
Silence.
She picks up the crumpled sticky note. Uncrinkles it as best she can. Sets it back down. Still blank.
“I don’t need you to tell me to skip it,” she says. “I need to know someone’s there when I can’t.”
Jungkook nods. Can’t speak.
She pushes _The Bell Jar_ across the counter. She had it. In her hoodie pocket.
“I’m done with it,” she says.
He scans it. _Beep_.
Return.
She doesn’t check it out again.
“See you tomorrow?” he asks. Stupid. Same as Chapter 1.
She doesn’t answer. Just turns. Walks to the door.
Hand on the push bar, she stops. Doesn’t look back.
“4am,” she says.
The door shushes.
She’s gone.
4:01am.
Jungkook looks at the blank sticky note.
Doesn’t write on it.
Puts it in his pocket.
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