But I Hate You || JJK (in editing)

Blame

She had a couple of moles on the exposed skin of her upper back, but other than that, it was a blank canvas, and it looked so soft and inviting. Still, JK was hesitant with his movements, taking the time to brush her hair to one side, revealing the nape of her neck which taunted him. His fingers itched to trace the straight of her spine. He didn't though. Instead, he rested his hands at her shoulders, feeling her tense up at his touch; he didn't like that.

"You need to relax your shoulders..." he mumbled, breath ghosting at her ear and causing goosebumps to grow on the skin beneath his fingers. It was hard not to feel encouraged by the reaction, but he knew her well enough not to risk this moment by being cocky.

His hands were warm and strong as they carefully worked against her muscles, slowly easing away the knots that had been growing increasingly tight throughout the day. She didn't want to admit it, but he was really good at it- like his hands had learned her back before and knew exactly where to put pressure. She hadn't meant for the moan to escape, but it passed her lips anyway and Jungkook's movements froze for a moment. She stopped breathing, growing tense under his touch again, but he quickly resumed before she had the chance to shy away from him. Thankfully she didn't see the small smile playing around his mouth.

Finally, he stopped, letting his hands run over her shoulders whilst her eyes fluttered open and the world came back to them. She mumbled a thank you, but the feeling of soft lips against the skin of her shoulder left her words caught in her throat. And then, as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook seemed to vanish.

In his absence, a cool breeze brushed past her, removing all the warmth he'd shared with her. It was like a splash of water to the face, sobering her up to deal with the consequences of what just happened. God, that boy would be the end of her if she didn't pull herself together. She didn't spend a year living in a brand new country, away from everyone and everything she had known just to get sucked right back into him.

Before returning to the party, Mimie downed the rest of her drink, focusing on the way the liquid burned her throat rather than the way her blood buzzed. Keeping her eyes to the floor, she headed straight for the bathroom, needing to splash some water on her face, most of her make-up had worn off at this point anyway. A familiar mumbling echoed down the corridor the second Mimie stepped into it; her desire to get to the bathroom was replaced by a determination to find the source of the voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snapped, eyes landing on Namjoon. Two panicked faces darted her way and her heart sank. Joon jumped away, cautious not to further ruffle the bride's dress, but her reluctant hands falling from his body told Mimie everything they didn't want to say.

"Mimie-ah," Namjoon spoke up but a raised hand and dark eyes silenced him. Behind the front of anger, her eyes were screaming disappointment and barely being able to look at either of them.

"This is your wedding day," she deadpanned at Hana, finding it easier to deal with her because coming from Hana it didn't seem so jarringly out of character. Hana had adored Namjoon for half of her life- she would always have a soft spot for him. But Joon... he'd never even given the girl a second glance and today, of all days, to change his mind?

"It looked worse than it was-," Joon tried again, his sobering mind clinging to the knowledge that he didn't actually kiss Hana or anything to protect himself from the swelling guilt in his gut.

"Shut up," Mimie snapped, eyes piercing through Joon when she finally met his widened eyes. "Whatever you have to say, don't."

"Mimie it wasn't just him-," Hana spoke up, finding her scattered courage.