Evolution of a lover's heart | jjk

58

It's easy to say that you're hypnotized.

You manage to half read, half observe as Jeongguk warms up with his jump rope, landing softly on the yoga mat he's rolled out on the living room floor. It's crazy how firm he is.

His hair bounces, and his pecs do just a bit too since he's tensing them, otherwise... he's strong and firm and... mouth watering. His abs flex, and so do his arms, and his shoulders, and the way his veins start to pop more than usual just makes you crazy.

Instinctively, you lick your lips, thankful that Jeongguk doesn't keep his attention on you. He jumps to the rhythm, sometimes higher and slower, other times he swings the rope quicker to do a double jump.

You don't think he'd mind if you told him that you're only in the room to observe and basically admire him, and definitely not to read, but you don't want to disturb him.

He works up just a light sweat, and you have a hard time tearing your eyes from his glistening skin when he puts the rope away on the floor and positions himself before the punching bag. He's already wrapped his hands like he does, and you bite your lip when he slides the black boxing gloves onto his hands and fastens them with his teeth. God.

Then, he starts.

You've been a writer almost your entire life. At least since you learned to form words by putting letters in different orders. You find them flowing almost excessively from your brain, able to convey just about any event or information you want and in any feeling.

But there aren't enough words in any alphabet or in all of them combined, to describe Jeongguk and his bulging muscles. He punches the bag of sand, gives it a real beating, and your heart beats in a different kind of way. It's the way his entire body works, how his abdomen tenses when he swings his arm, or how the muscles ripple in his back when he does those quick hits. Bam, bam, bam.

The hand holding the book rests uselessly in your lap, your finger firmly holding it open, but you can't make yourself care all that much.

Jeongguk goes at it for a few minutes, until he suddenly stops to throw a glove off, bend down, and take a swig from his water bottle on the floor.

Then he turns to you, still breathing heavily, and smirks. You're quick to raise the book again, pretending to read.

"Is it good?"

"Huh?"

"Your book?"

"Uh..."

"The one you always 'read' when I work out? But that you never seem to finish even though I know you can read like four hundred pages in a day, easy."

Shit, you've been found out.

"Uh..."

"You know, you're really not as innocent as you seem."

So you drop the book beside you on the couch, not caring about losing your place because let's be honest, whatever words you did read definitely weren't absorbed by your brain in any way, shape, or form.

"Okay, but you! cannot blame me!" you point your finger accusingly at a still smirking Jeongguk.

"Have you seen yourself? You should be happy I'm at least not all over you like I want to be. You know this is practically straight up porn?"

Jeongguk laughs, thoroughly amused as he turns back to fix something with the punching bag.

Despite always falling easily, you never thought you'd be this in love with someone. Yes, you can't get enough of Jeongguk physically, but your love goes so, so much deeper than that.