We are sitting in the living room, watching his favorite K- drama. Jungkook has a huge blanket wrapped around him and his entire body is stretched out on the couch, taking up almost all of the space.
"What do you want?" I ask him, lifting my head to look up at him as I am sitting cross legged on the floor. I am already pissed off at him. After what felt like an eternity pushing Jungkook away from me on the couch, I'd settled down on the floor just moments earlier.
"Can you get me a glass of juice, please?" he asks me sweetly, leaning toward me.
"Go get it yourself," I snap at him.
"Pwease, Pwease, Pwease," he says, pouting.
"Don't try aegyo on me," I say, nonchalantly, "It won't work."
"It always works on you," he says.
I flick his arm. Yes, his aegyo does work on me and I hate him for that particular reason. Groaning, I make my way to the kitchen.
I open the refrigerator and take out the orange juice carton. While taking it out my eyes land on another object in the fridge. I smirk, picking up the bottle of Tabasco sauce.
Jungkook, you're gonna wish you never used aegyo on me to get what you want, I think to myself.
I go about making the special cocktail for him. I pour normal orange juice for myself and head back to the living room. Jungkook has bundled up the blanket and thrown it to one side on the couch. He's watching the TV intently. I hand him the special glass of juice.
"Why is this a different color?" he asks me.
"It's a different flavor," I reply, poker face on.
"Did you add Tabasco sauce in this?" Jungkook asks.
I stare at him dumbfounded.
"How did you know that?"I ask him.
"I can smell it," he says, smirking.
"What the heck! How did you- That was-" I'm so shocked, I can't even find the right words to describe the outrageous feeling.
"That was the most pathetic prank ever," he places the glass on the table and stands up, "So you deserve this punishment."
He smacks my face with a cushion before I can react.
"Yah!" I protest and chuck the cushion back at him, but miss.
Argh- Golden Maknae! Why does he have to be so damn fast? I mentally chide myself for not being as athletic as Jungkook.
"You are so gonna regret troubling me," I say and launch myself at him.
He grabs my wrists and pushes me backward, toward the couch. I fall onto it, but his momentum makes him fall too. Fall on me, that is. I yelp, trying to free myself. Goddamn, he's heavy. I push him away from me, for the millionth time. He falls down, dragging me along with him.
He groans, "Yah, why are you so heavy?"
"I'm heavy?!" I snap, outraged at being called heavy by a person who was crushing me just moments ago.
He suddenly releases my wrists and wraps his arms around my waist, trapping me. He buries his face at the crook of my neck. As much as I love the gesture, I'm supposed to be mad at him.
You can be madly in love with him, one part of me says.
Oh, shut up!
"Jungkook, let me go!" I try freeing myself from him, in vain.
He starts kissing me.
"Jungkook!" I protest, "I'm supposed to be mad at you!"
"You can be madly in love with me," he mutters against my neck and slides his hand under my shirt.
Did he hear my thoughts or something? I wonder.
I hear loud footsteps and the sound of breaking glass.
Jungkook lets go of me and we both quickly get up from our position to see Namjoon standing next to a broken glass, his jaw hanging open.
"Uh," he mumbles, "I didn't mean to-"
"It's not what you think," I quickly reply, "We were supposed to be fighting and-"
"Yeah, okay," he smirks, "Let me not invade in your private space. I'll get going... See y'all later."
Now it was our turn to stand there with our jaws hanging open, our faces burning.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
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