"So the photoshoot for the new fragrance is tomorrow morning," I casually mention as I sit next to Jimin on his couch with my legs comfortably tucked underneath me.
Taking another sip of his wine, he turns his body to face me. "It is. Should we show up together or just pretend we're meeting there? Would I get fired for living with you?"
Giggling at his questions, I place my glass onto the intricately carved coffee table before turning to face him as well. "Hm, I definitely don't think you'll be fired. I'm pretty sure there's no clause in your contract about having zero contact with someone from an entirely different company. Otherwise, we would have never become friends."
"Good point," he chuckles and my body tingles at his lingering gaze into my eyes.
"As for the photo shoot," I continue, "we may as well arrive together. I doubt anyone would notice and quite frankly, it's none of their fucking business."
Smirking at my outburst of profanity, he leans his side onto the back of the cream-colored sofa with his head resting in the crook of his arm, "You're adorable, you know that?"
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. "I'm not."
"You definitely are," he says just above a whisper as his index finger slowly traces the edge of my thumb and making my heart accelerate. Clearing his throat, he pulls back abruptly and bashfully looks at me. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing. I think three glasses of wine is my limit for tonight."
"I didn't mind," I meekly respond and watch him try to hold back a smile.
He and I had been casually talking for the last three hours ever since we finished our dinner and plopped down in this very spot. The only indication of time passing was the black velvet sky outside of his wall-to-wall windows and the now empty bottle placed between our mostly finished wine glasses.
Even though we both have work tomorrow and an early morning shoot that we are required to attend, I really don't want the night to end. I never want things to end when he's around.
"I'm going to call it a night," I state to break the comfortable silence between us and force myself to go to bed. "We'll need to be ready to go by six a.m."
"Well then, I guess this is where I tell you good night." He stands and holds out his hand for mine to help me up from the couch as if I needed the assistance. Maybe I appear more intoxicated than I feel.
Standing up, my leg tingles from sitting on it for so long and it's hard for me to apply pressure to it. Wincing at the prickling sensation while blood rushes back to the limb, I giggle and hold onto his shoulders to keep myself from falling back over.
"My leg is asleep," I bashfully inform him.
"I hate when that happens." Jimin pulls me closer to his frame as his hands glide over my waist to keep me steady.
My hands slide behind his neck as I stare into his deep chocolate irises that seem a bit brighter when reflected in the light. His plump lips part as his fingertips tighten and I feel his heart pounding in his chest. The tension between us feels thick like the sweetest honey slowly dripping and when his tongue nervously sweeps over his bottom lip, I feel like I could lose myself.
"Jimin?"
"Hm?" He lowly responds.
"I-... you-... I think I need to go to sleep." It's not at all what I was about to say. I was moments away from confessing that I want him to kiss me but the split second of clarity that hit me reminded me that it would be wrong.
"Right." He loosens his grip on me and blinks a few times as if he's coming back to reality as well. "Can you walk okay now?"
Wiggling my leg, I smile up at him. "All better now."
Stepping back, he lets his fingers slip away from my sides, almost tickling me as he does so. "I'll clean this up before I lay down for the night. Sleep well, Mia."
"You too and thanks again." I tuck my hair behind my ear before completely turning and walking back down the hall.
Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I press my back to it and take a deep breath. Why do I feel like such a teenage girl around him? Not only that but it seems as if I have the same effect on him. Fuck, if I was single, I'd be all over him.
Sighing, I walk over to his bed and pull down the bedspread to reveal even more of the red silk sheets. Sliding my body into his bed, I nibble on my lip as my imagination starts to run wild immediately. Thoughts of his body in between my parted legs and him pressing open-mouthed lingering kisses all over my neck and chest. Visions of my hands holding him closer as my fingers dig into his smooth back when he begins moving down my body. Those intense eyes locking on mine and claiming all of my attention.
My fingers glide over my breasts as my eyes fall shut and I pretend it's him touching me instead, wetness already collecting between my thighs and I suppress the urge to moan when I start to rub circles over my sensitive bud. Just the fact that I am where he has slept is turning me on and even more so how much he connects with me emotionally and mentally. Even the memories of the prolonged looks between us as if at any moment we could do the unthinkable has my body tensing the longer I bring myself towards the brink of my demise.
I want him. Dangerously so. In every... conceivable... way.
For now, my mind doesn't wander off to how I am not available for him and that he's my forbidden fruit. For now, my fantasies play out as if I'm freely able to give myself to him. Mind, body, and soul.
My orgasm crashes through me and I clasp my other hand over my mouth to keep myself from breathing too loudly. The bedroom is far enough away from the living room that I don't think he would be able to hear such a quiet thing like heavy breathing but as my thought process slowly trickles back into reality, I do know that I wouldn't want to be caught in the act.
Slipping off of the bed, I walk into the en-suite bathroom and clean myself up, avoiding the mirror as I start to feel guilty about lusting after a man that isn't my husband regardless of how much of an undeserving ass Cameron is.
My throat feels tight as I take a deep breath to hold in the tears that threaten to escape when it dawns on me that I will never have this with the man I'm vowed to spend the rest of my life with. At this point, how could I ever feel such a desire for someone who has disrespected me, degraded me, and showed so little care for something as simple as my well-being?
Even the thought of divorce saddens me. It feels as if I have failed somehow or that my naive way of envisioning love in my life has come to an end.
Curling up into the fetal position when I lay back down, I stare out at the Eiffel Tower and let the hot tears stream down my face as they have almost every night over the last couple of years.
I just so desperately want to be truly happy.
A small knock on the bedroom door startles me as I sit up and try to wipe my cheeks dry as quickly as I can. "Come in."
Slowly, the dim light from the front of the apartment shines into the bedroom and Jimin peeks in having obviously showered in the guest bathroom and now dressed in a long-sleeve white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. "Sorry to bother you. I forgot to get my hairbrush and my-" Pausing, he furrows his brow as he looks up at me, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Letting out a chuckle that is void of all humor, I shrug my shoulders and sniffle. "Nightly occurrence."
Shaking his head with sympathetic eyes, he walks up to me and sits on the edge of the bed. Swiping my cheek when another tear falls without warning, I force a tight-lipped smile.
"Is it okay to say I can't stand that so-called husband of yours? Because I really fucking can't," he states as I lean into the palm of his hand.
Nodding, the lump in my throat seems to double in size keeping me from being able to respond with words. My chin begins to tremble and soon, an overflow of grief pours out of me as I start to sob and fold into myself for protection.
Just before I lower my head into my arms, I see the glisten of a tear stream down Jimin's cheek causing me to feel even worse, even though I know that wasn't his intention. His warm strong arms wrap around me as he reminds me that he's here for me and I let everything out, feeling safe in his embrace. Even when he moves to sit right next to me instead and slides underneath the covers, he doesn't once let go of his caring hold on me.
"I'm here, okay? You're not alone. Not anymore," he mumbles with his chin resting on top of my head. "Cry as much as you need to but you're not going to cry alone from now on."
My arm wraps around his torso as I grip onto his shirt and bury my face into his chest while he gently strokes my hair to try to calm me. It feels good to let it all out without fear of being reprimanded by my husband for showing any emotions or having to force myself to pretend I'm happy in the presence of other people.
It's such a heavy burden to always pretend I'm happy enough to joyfully greet those around me when all I want to do is break down and cry until I feel there's nothing left and I've become an empty shell, void of all pain.
And although I knew the weight of putting out such a false persona for the world, I didn't realize just how substantial those emotional chains were until now. Until I'm laying in Jimin's comforting embrace and feeling safe enough to begin to heal.
However, that same release also drains me, and soon I find it difficult to open my heavy eyes or even find the energy to move. I expect Jimin to scoot away once I have finished my sob-fest but he continues to soothingly play with my hair and softly hum a tune in a very angelic-sounding voice.
For the first time... ever... I feel cherished and taken care of.
The loud sound of my alarm on my cellphone brings me out of my sleep. It's an earlier-than-usual morning so the sun had yet to rise and the birds haven't yet begun to sing their cheerful tunes. Coming out of my hazy state of mind as I turn off the continuous notification, I realize that Jimin's arm is wrapped around my torso, and his head is cutely nuzzled into my upper back.
Softly smiling as I turn around, I take a closer look at his beautiful face while I have the chance. Pushing back the strands of bleach-blonde hair, my grin broadens at the sight of very faint freckles across the bridge of his perfect little nose and his squished cheeks. A small scar near the edge of his eye catches my attention and it makes me wonder what happened for him to get that. His perfectly shaped lips remain parted as he breathes shallowly, still in a deep sleep. However, when my second alarm sounds, it's enough to make him knit his brow and pull me closer.
"Five more minutes," he pleads and my heart flutters at the sight of his little smirk.
"You slept in here, huh?" I ask, although rhetorically.
Nodding, he opens his eyes to look at me. "You fell asleep on my chest while holding onto my shirt. I hope it's okay that I stayed with you."
"Yeah, it was," I hum as I lightly push aside more hair that was resting on his forehead and watch as his face seems to relax even more at my touch. "We need to get up for work."
Groaning, he rolls onto his back while pulling on my arm, making me snuggle into him. "But I don't wanna."
Laughing wholeheartedly, I raise my head to see him fully grinning as well while staring up at the ceiling. Looking down at me, he tucks some hair behind my ear and runs his finger along the edge.
It's pure torture to not kiss him right now.
"Would you like a croissant? I can go down to the bakery while you get ready," he inquires as he plays with some of my hair.
I nod. "Please?"
"Coffee?"
"Definitely." My smile doesn't seem to want to dwindle.
Cupping my face with both of his hands, he kisses the top of my head and a shockwave of tingles ripples through every inch of my body. I watch him stand and stretch as he lets out a loud groan while he's being unknowingly admired. Turning around to look at me, he playfully acts as if he's covering his backside and wags his finger at me in a feign scolding. Hiding my face into the pillow that still smells like him, I giggle and peek back out in his direction.
"Glad to see that beautiful smile again," he states before walking toward his closet to grab a gray hoodie and some sneakers. "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay," I respond in a voice that sounds foreign to me. I haven't sounded so giddy in so many years.
With a little wink, he walks out of the bedroom and closes the door behind him. Burying my face into the pillow, I let out a little squeal before turning around and taking a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart.
He might not be mine but I can't stop the way this man makes me feel.
And to be honest, I really don't want to.