SMALL DOSES || JIKOOK✅

30

JUNGKOOK POV

I moaned and rolled onto my side, opening my eyes enough
to see the glare of the morning light filtering through the bedroom window.

I felt horrible.

My head hurt, my stomach
rolled and I groaned when I swallowed, my mouth so dry
I had no saliva left.

I needed to rehydrate.

In contrast, my bladder was
so full that the urge to pee overshadowed everything else.

"Fuck me." I glanced at the nightstand to check the time
on my phone. It read 9 a.m.

Spotting a glass of water along with a couple of painkillers, I took both, chugging down the cool liquid as if I'd been lost
in the desert for an eternity.

As I settled back beneath the covers, I heard a throat clearing before a familiar voice uttered the words.

"Well, if you insist."

There, sitting on the chair adjacent to the dresser, was
Jimin and my eyes went from half closed to wide as hell in a split second when I caught
sight of him.

Pale fingers twiddling a wilted rose and hair all over the place and he still wore the same clothes from the day before.

I'd never seen a more
beautiful sight.

Why the hell is Jimin here?

Oh, that's right.

I made an absolute ass of
myself last night and he was there to witness it all.

My stomach growled in protest, and I let out a burp, breath
fowl with the stench of alcohol.

"What I meant to say was,um."

"Be right back, Bathroom."

I croaked, sliding out of bed
and making my way toward
the door.

He nodded, his eyes flickering toward me before they lowered and fixed themselves on the flower.

As I closed the bathroom door, I wondered with a dizzy sense of excitement why Jimin was here.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure I was okay.

Perhaps after the debacle that was last night, he wanted to
talk me into keeping my job.

Or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to talk about us.

I shook my head then grimaced at the pain, both from my bad head and from the fleeting thought.

Allowing myself the luxury of holding out any kind of hope he wanted to pursue anything with me was counterproductive.

And yet, my pulse still quickened.

Smile still widened.

And as I rushed through my bathroom routine before returning to my room, I could
not believe what I was seeing.

He hadn't moved.

I held my breath for a moment before releasing it, trying to relax and sat on the end of the bed opposite him and waited.

His brow was furrowed, saddened eyes not quite
ready to meet mine.

I didn't trust myself to say
a word.

Because I was worried if I even breathed too hard, let alone spoke, he'd up and disappear.

Staring with intent at the deep crimson rose, the color of which made his bloodshot eyes appear even redder than they were, he took a deep, shuddering breath.