Jungkook raises an eyebrow, a familiar glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Well then, we'll compromise. One person gets to sleep on the couch, and the other sleeps on the floor but gets the quilt," he proposes. His tone shows that he thinks this is ridiculous, but the only ridiculous thing is my stubbornness.

"Fine," I say. Jungkook's eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Really?" he questions.

"Yes," I reply confidently. "I dibs the floor."

Jungkook looks at me in disbelief.

"You don't play fair, Park Bo-young," Jungkook says in mock-accusation. I stick out my tongue and turn around to get ready for bed.





When I return to the living room, now in a large button-up nightshirt that reaches my knees – probably stolen from Jungkook – I find the quilt on the wooden floor along with a soft-looking throw pillow. Jungkook is on the couch, lying down, wearing blue and white plaid pajamas that are fashionably oversized. When he notices me, he looks at me with pursed lips, as if to say: "really?"

I ignore him, assuming my position on the floor.

"When your back begins to ache, and you come crawling back, realizing that you've made the wrong choice, know that I'll only let you on the couch if you say 'I'm a sad, sad, stubborn bunny who made a terrible mistake.'"

I scoff.

"You wish," I argue, still stubborn as ever.

"I won't help you when the demons under the couch grab you," he warns spookily.

"Fool, you think you can scare me with demons?" I say, to which Jungkook shrugs and turns off the lamp.

"Goodnight," he says. I mutter the same back to him.

The moonlight shines through the window, silhouetting the remaining dust on the floor. I hear the old house creak as the wind rattles the windows, the few bits of hale among the snowfall knocking against the glass.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Something other than the hale taps against the window. I see a silhouette outside, just barely in my periphery, but I dare not move my head to look.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I hear it again. It stands out clearly against the quick taps of the occasional hale, which sounds more like distant pops than tapping. This, though, is something much more substantial than small balls of hale.

I gather my courage, a sick feeling of dread gathering in my stomach as I ready myself to look at it. I don't know why I'm so scared. There's nothing there. We're in the middle of the woods on the outskirts of town. Now that I think about it, that's not comforting. It's the opposite.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Enough!

Without giving myself enough time to be scared, I turn to look up at the window. There, tapping on the window is a tree-branch.

"Motherfucker," I whisper to myself, turning back around. The floorboards creak as I readjust my position, turning to face the couch.

In front of me, I'm greeted by the pitch-black abyss under the couch. I stare at the darkness, irrationally convinced that there's a pair of eyes staring back at me.

I can't believe Jungkook was right. I can't believe he managed to scare me with demons.

I stare at the demon-abyss for another moment before heaving a heavy sigh.

I stand up, grab my pillow, and quilt. I tip-toe to the couch, looming over Jungkook for a moment before placing my pillow next to his. Before I can get in next to him, his eyes open.

"Password?" he asks.

I groan.

"I'm a sad, sad, stubborn bunny who made a terrible mistake," I say, deadpan. 

Jungkook smiles smugly before inviting me onto the couch. I begrudgingly accept, lying down next to him stiffly, half of my body hanging off the edge.

"You're too wide, Jungkook. If you move, you'll end up pushing me off," I whisper.

"First of all, ouch," Jungkook says. "Second, you're lying down like there's a gun against your head. Relax."

I relax on the couch, but only slightly.

"I guarantee that by sunrise, you will have pushed me off in your sleep," I whisper back.

Jungkook doesn't respond. Instead, he turns towards me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to him, holding me securely against his chest.

"Problem solved," he mutters close to my ear. 

STRAY // JJK x HYBRID (bunny)✔️ Re-WritingWhere stories live. Discover now