affixed | jjk ✓

84. arguments

Devora rolled her eyes, hoping he saw her berated response to his pesky sarcasm and dreadful nicknames.

He snorted, clicking his tongue, wavering off her immature reaction. "So, this morning I did my normal workout, changed, went and got coffee for the both of us," He hummed like he had trouble uncovering his memory. "What else did I do-"

"Why were you so late to the meeting Hobi had this morning?" Devora finally spoke after a prolonged period of introspection.

His forehead creased, almost forgetting that he was ever late.

"Oh." His eyes flashed with recollection. "I was bringing us coffee-"

"Don't bullshit."

He glared at her, her demanding attitude throwing him off. "Don't bullshit? How am I bullshitting when you saw me hand you the coffee?"

"Did you go see that guy?" She disregarded his question, proceeding with the queries she had assembled in her mind.

His right hand placed itself in the middle of the wheel, his other elbow being propped on the door. "Well, I saw lots of guys there, Devora."

His mockery brought her to ire, her mind fogging up from the blinding smoke her annoyance created.

"Did you go see Kaden?" She tried again, this time, more specific.

He switched on his turn signal. "Kaden? Was that his name?" Still finding the urge to play coy.

Devora never deemed Jungkook to ever get physical, or even be hostile with others.

Though, after getting to know him, and seeing such animosity bleed through him when he was upset, nothing seemed too far-fetched.

She examined the red light that held them stationary, she squinted her eyes, trying to analyze his fist in the ineffective lighting the car supplied.

If he did go and get physical with Kaden, there would be prominent evidence on his knuckles.

Devora reached over the console, grabbing onto his larger hand, and studying it.

It was normal.

There was no sign of any purple bruises or inflamed scratches.

It was his average fist, with the usual jet black ink on his fingers and knuckles.

The light turned green, placing his other hand on the wheel and driving off.

He chuckled, latching his fingers in between hers. "If you wanted to hold my hand, why didn't you just say so?"

Her expression crumpled in aggravation, discreetly wiping his hand away. "This isn't a game, Jeon. You could get in deep trouble if you hurt him, or even threaten him."

It was unbelievebly challenging to lecture the man when he had a complacent expression perpetually etched on his face — enunciating his impetuous response to the whole situation.

With his teeth fumbling with the ring on the right corner of his lip, his pierced eyebrow raised at a fine angle Devora would say he looked utterly sensual and unintentionally seductive, which brought a flush to her cheeks.

But, it wasn't the right time to think of him in such a way, nor was it appropriate for their situation.

"Devora. What he did to you was probably even worse than what I told him." He responded, not at all revising his stubborn viewpoint.

She placed her elbow on the center console, not backing down. "So tell me what you told him."

He made a right turn, already heading towards Devora's apartment. "Stop worrying so much. All you need to know is he won't be bugging you anymore, and that's it."