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When He's a Gamer;
Jeon Jungkook @crumbygguk
Stepping out of the shiny, black car, you slam the door and rush to the back, hurriedly opening your umbrella. Heavy rain drops fall all around you, reminding you of your adamant despise for rainy days. Upon opening the trunk of the car, you realize just how many groceries you bought, and groan at the thought of carrying them all on your own or making multiple trips to get them.
Should I call Jungkook for help?
Shrugging your shoulders, you step over towards the small pavillion to hide from the rain as you pull out your phone and press on your fiance's contact.
The phone rings as you tap your foot impatiently.
"Come on Kook, pick up." You groan as the seconds pass.
Finally, the ringing stops and a voice sounds from the other end.
"Hello?"
You smile, "Koo! I'm outside of the apartment, can y-"
"This is Jk, sorry I can't come to the phone right now, call again later! Bye!"
Beep.
You groan again, louder this time.
"Da*n it, he never picks up the phone anymore."
Lifting your umbrella over your head yet again, you make a quick dash through the now even heavier rain and open your trunk again, grabbing as many bags as you can with your free hand.
With about 7 bags in your left hand and the umbrella in your right, you realize you're going to have to drop the umbrella if you want any chance at getting all the bags in one trip.
You sigh, tossing the umbrella into the trunk and using your right arm to grab and hold 5+ more bags. Once you've got them all, you lift your leg up and use it to close the trunk, rain still pouring down on you as you sprint to the front door of your apartment building.
Once inside, you're greeted by the receptionist.
"Hi Mrs. Y/n! Back so soon?" She smiles.
"Hi Marge." You return the same small grin.
She looks at the bags in your arms and grimaces.
"It looks like you've got your hands full, I'd gladly help you but I'm not supposed to leave the front desk, should I call someone to assist you?"
"That's ok, Marge, I'm sure I can manage, thank you!"
She smiles at you again as you step into the elevator. The doors close as you immediately drop all the bags to the ground, whining at the burning sensation in your arms and shoulders. Red lines from the handles of the bags mark your forearms, causing you to rub them in agony.
