𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 & 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 ➳ BTS [✓]

night out

12:04 AM

"Cheers!"

The voice rings in my ears as my eyes lands on Namjoon's body once again as we clink the small glasses together, my hand leading the cold, foggy glass to my warm lips.
Swallowing the tequila I wince my eyes, grabbing the slice of lemon from the table and bite down on it as fast as possible to make the strong taste of burning liquor vanish.

My jaw hurts from the several tequila-shots Namjoon and I have taken by now and I feel my sight slow compared to my movements. I feel tipsy, the warm fizz of music, clinking of drinks and chit-chatter surrounding us.

Namjoon chuckles and nods at me approvingly, and as I glance at him, the hand-tattoos on his fingers catch my eyes. His hair is slightly pushed back, the light-brown strands illuminated in the faint colored lights. He's wearing a black t-shirt that fits him just right, making his biceps justice.

"What's your ideal type like?"

Namjoon leans in on the small bar table, placing his elbows on the surface as he asks me the question.

I smile a little, leaning back on the soft sofa I'm sitting on, my eyes roaming the room in thought.

"I don't have an ideal type." I say, folding my arms over my chest, my neon off-shoulder dress creeping up a little, making me adjust my seating.

I watch Namjoon swallow thickly, his eyes narrowing.

"You don't have one? I don't believe that."
He blinks a few times before his wide smile occurs, the deep dimples flaunting my drunk eyes.

"I don't believe in ideal types. If there's a connection, there's a connection. When I feel something in my gut, that's when I know he's somehow my type." I smile and cock up an eyebrow at him — my body is filled with courage and that courages makes me ask him the same question.

"What's your type like?"

His brown eyes catches mine, before taking a sip of his beer. He purses his lips.

"A lot like y—"

"Sung Mira! Bitch, where the fuck have you been?!"

Jimin's boring voice roars through the music, and as I turn my head I see him running towards me with his eyes wide and ready to kill.

I widen my own, and watch Namjoon look at me, a cheeky smile on his lips.

As Jimin reaches our table, I raise my hands in defence.
"I didn't do anything." I say, pouting a little and show my best friend my puppy eyes.

Jimin scrunches his nose in disgust, his hands cupping the sides of my face. My eyes needs to adjust to his fast movements, his blurry face finally adjusting.

"I don't fucking care what you did. You left me!" He squeezes my cheeks, making me look like a chubby hamster and I can practically hear Namjoon laugh.

"Jimin! Let go of me! I didn't leave your sorry ass. I told you to come but you had to buy that drink for Hoseok, remember?" My eyes bore into his, and he responds with a heavy sigh as he plops down next to me.

I chuckle, patting his hair lightly.

"Where's Tae anyway?" Jimin ask, his hands up in the air in frustration.

"He's with Jin and Yoongi I think." Namjoon says, his hand ruffling his hair swiftly. Jimin sighs one more time, his head leaning back in the couch as he mumbles.