Under the firelight street lamps above, Y/N's face glows a tinge of marigolds.
She rode my favorite motorbike. Nearly destroyed it. And now she's grinning at my lips like she wants to kiss me.
Clearly, she's waiting for my approval I very much don't give her. I anchor my eyes away. A fish who would not be caught.
But moments later, my eyes find her again, gaze slipping down to her lips, the way they part when she breathes in. I imagined, indelicately, my hands roving up to grab the nape of her neck before pulling her face into a kiss.
Whenever it's just the two of us, I find myself drawn to thoughts of pushing boundaries with her—leading her into the depths of sensation--touching her, kissing her, caressing every inch of her skin under that damn red dress.
I stare at Y/N quietly. At her curly black hair that's glazed red from the lights above us. The way her chest rises and falls each time she inhales. At the smooth curve of her breasts that I mentally touched and caressed. Fucking hell, dude. Get a grip.
Indeed, today is a very hot day. The heat is getting to me, I convince myself.
Clearing my throat, I stand abruptly. "Don't look at me like that," I demand, almost acusingly. "I know I'm hot but you seriously need to stop."
I'm surprised at how gruff my tone comes out. Y/N's face turns warm. A subtleness of a tease I hope she realizes is much more of a threat.
There's no way she can like me. Not if she knows me.
"I need to stop?" She asks with a glare, sitting up on the ground. "Have you seen the look on your face after I pole danced? You had a fucking boner, Jungkook"
Fuck.
The heat creeps against my face and I scoff. "And what if I did?"
Y/N's full lips part in response, but before she replies, I stretch out my hand for her. "Get up. I'm not wasting time trying to justify a basic anatomy dysifunciton."
She gawks at me in utter disbelief--and also with a look that showed she wants to kill me.
Then a second of disappointment flashes across her face. She stands without my help. "Why are you always pushing me away?"
I tense, looking away. "Because it's the right thing to do." She swallows before looking away.
"Okay," she mumbles softly, and my heart plummets when I watched the hurt melt on her face like ice.
She turns to me, forcing a smile. "Where do we go now?"
My gaze lands on the big red cut on her neck then on the purple bruise on her inner thigh that the slit on her dress failed to conceal.
My body feels heavy with guilt.
This is the exact reason why I'm pushing her away.
All her injuries--everything that hurt her was because of me. No matter her stubbornness to meddle in my business, I'm accountable for her injures.
I almost, almost reach a comforting hand out for her but then catch myself, looking away and finding my fallen motorbike. I walk towards it, bringing the vehicle upright before shoving it in the bushes so the nameplate is hindered.
When I turn to Y/N, she's ogling at the menu of a pub place nearby, her lips parted like a hungry dog. We're both starving. A little lag isn't going to bite.
"I think we both could use some alcohol right now. Unless-" I turn to look at her. "How old are you?"
I never thought of her age before now. I considered she was old enough, but I never realized that I could have been wrong.
"Old enough for a booze," Y/N retorts, her expression annoyed. "How old are you?"
I know she just wanted to know my age. Ignoring her pose, I head towards the pub, thirsty for a drink. The shop is open, with a neon-lit purple rooftop that's got a slanted edge to it.
The layout of the shop inside reminds me of Bangtan's Bakery. On cue, I take my phone out, typing a quick message in the group chat.
We're safe. Getting food. How is bea?
It was read the moment I sent it. Three dots appear, indicating Jimin's typing. The moron who has been calling me nonstop.
She's good Jungkook-ah. Take Y/N on a date. She's leaving tmr.
That's right. We're finally going to drop Y/N home.
For the briefest moment, I considered it, but when I feel her tailing behind me, I slip my phone back into my pocket, dismissing Jimin's text. The cashier looks up from filing her nails, her gaze lingering on my face as we walk in.
I am in no position to take Y/N on a date. Sitting next to a table by the window, I take my suit off and fling it on the chair next to me. Discomfort alleviates my shoulders, but I still feel stiff.
There's dry blood on my black undershirt that darkens a part of the fabric. Y/N sits in the seat opposite of me, her gaze fixed on a street dog outside. Strands of her curly hair stick to her sweaty temple.
She turns to me. "Can I ask you something?"
Her tone is hustled like she's been wanting to ask me this for a while. I narrowed my eyes at her. "If I say no, you're going to ask me anyway, aren't you?"
At my response, she rolls her eyes, bringing her chair closer to me before leaning in. "Have we-I don't know- met before?"
I avert my gaze out the window, staring at how the stray dog outside nibbles on the tires of my motorbike. "We haven't. Would it matter if we had?"
She leans back, not satisfied with my response. "You see, my memory is kinda ass. A little spark would help."
"No shit," I confirm, feeling the tips of my tendon fingers tense. Just then, the cashier approaches us but before I can babble two dishes off the menu, Y/N beats me to it.
"Bulgogi, tteokbokki, side of kimchi, kimbab. Three bottles of soju. Jungkook?"
I gawk at the girl in disbelief. "We're not sharing all that?"
A grimace before anger flashes across her face. "I haven't eaten shit for a whole day. If you're concerned about money, don't fret. It's on me."
I try not to laugh. Who wouldn't, if they're the CEO of the greatest selling company in all of Korea? I want to rub the fact into her face but I say nothing.
The cashier pauses, and sends me a sweet smile, before scratching something on her notepad. "Anything for you, sir?"
I read my favorite dish off the menu but she doesn't hear me-or pretends not to since I spoke it perfectly loud. She leans in, making her top glide off her chest, exposing her cleavage to my face.
The scent of cheap flowers hits my nose so hard, that I have to look away from her with a sigh, not missing the flirtatious way she bats her eyelashes at me. "One serving of samgyeopsal," I repeat, tone clipped.
"Oh and don't forget water," Y/N pipes in, staring down at the cashier. "Judging from how thirsty you look, I suppose you might need it."
The cashier's cheeks go red, before she looks away from me, strolling towards the kitchen with a limp.
Who does Y/N get that temper from?
"Do you miss your dad?" I ask before I can stop myself. But I must not sound genuinely concerned because she only shrugs. "I'll see him tomorrow anyway."
Right. I keep forgetting she's leaving tomorrow. She's going home.
It's silent then, and I ignore the urge to ask her about her mom since she never brought her up.
After a couple of minutes ensue, the cashier-waiter- brings three bottles of soju to the table, followed by several dishes whose tangy aroma lingers under my nose. Y/N pours the soju into her glass, and I hear her swallow, a wrinkle on her forehead.
"Thanks for not asking about my mom," she says.
Just to annoy her, I ask. "What about your mom?"
She rolls her eyes at me, although a smile smears her rosy lips. I don't expect her to answer, but I'm taken back by what she says next.
"My mom died when I was four." My pulse quickens in my veins. "She was murdered. Four gunshots to her back. We don't know exactly who did it. My mother was a reporter. She visited scary places to uncover the truth about them to the media."
The grief in her voice is so transparent, that I thought to touch her and smooth her hand in comfort. But the alcohol does it all for her.
For a while, we just sat there in silence, the sound of our breathing, chewing, and swallowing filing the quiet pub. Then, abruptly, Y/N's head slams against the table, and I jump to a stand, eyes wide in shock. "Red," I hiss. "Are you alright?"
She's already drunk? Just like that?
I grab her head and she squirms, a lazy smile on her lips. "Did you know that Cookie Monster has a real name?"
Her chin lifted in excitement and I sigh. "You're drunk. Let's go."
She grins at me, her cheeks pink. She grabs the third bottle of soju, but I snatch it from her hands. She pouts. "Come onnn," she groans.
"You're intoxicated."
"Intoxicated," she echoes, grinning. "I like that word. Intoxy-" She blinks. "What was it again?"
I exhale sharply before quickly paying for the food and grabbing my suit. Y/N stares up at me, her face crimson as I walk to her side.
"You're so hot," she blurts. "How can you be so hot?"
"Can you stand?" I ask. She pretends to think. "No. But I can do a belly dance. Wanna see?"
She begins to sway her body to the side, but I stop her instantly. "Red," I groan, grabbing her arm. "Stop that. Let's go. It's getting late."
She stands but plops back onto her chair. "I want ice cream."
"It's too late-"
She stands once again, this time with a jump, then points to the menu behind the cashier who looks at us with a shy smile. "Vanilla ice cream. Make it creamy and orgasmic-"
"Red," I cut her off, then turn towards the cashier. "Excuse us. One ice cream please."
She nods before shuffling through the doors of the kitchen behind her. I bring Y/N's hand around my neck. "Hold on to me."
A giggle escapes her mouth. "You're so cute," she smiles, poking her fingers into my cheeks.
I take her wrist in my hand, holding it to my side. "Can you please contain yourself and walk?"
With a pout, she nods. How can someone get this drunk on half a bottle of strawberry-flavored soju?
The cashier returns with an ice cream cone in her hand. "Here you go," she says. I hand her my card but she shakes her head, smiling. "Have a good night."
I nod in thanks, before dragging Y/N out the door. She reaches for the ice cream in my hand before taking a lick.
Her licking noises ring in my ears as she follows behind me to my motorbike. Out of the blue, I feel her small hand smack my butt. I freeze on my feet, turning to her, stunned.
She grins at me. "You have a good ass. Keep it growing."
My cheeks are blazing. This woman.
"Finish your ice cream, Red. Then we'll talk." Clenching my jaw, I sit on my motorbike, facing Y/N who's staring at the sky with the melting ice cream in her hand. She's so vulnerable like this. Drunk and blind.
Then, after she's done with her ice cream, she's peering at me so intensely, that I have to look away, at the ground, at something. I look back at her, impulsively reaching out a hand to brush off the ice cream at the corner of her mouth.
She takes that as an invitation to bring her soft hand against my cheek. My eyes widen when she leans in, her body an inch away from mine. I grimace. "What...what are you doing?"
When she smiles, her brilliant black eyes curl marginally. "I want to kiss you."
My heartbeat is in my throat. I look away. "Maybe when you're not wasted like this, I might."
Her smile drops when I try to step aside from her. "No," she rasps, and then she's grabbing my collar and yanking my face so close to her that our noses press.
I can smell her. The oils in her hair, tree-nut, rose water, pomegranate, salt of pure sweat. Soju. Ice-cream.
My pulse jumps in a way I don't recognize. Y/N has looked at me so many times. This gaze, however, is different.
When her lower body presses against mine, a drop of hot-blooded pleasure seeps into my skin. I let out a sound I don't recognize.
More.
The intensity of my bottled desires amplifies at an overwhelming speed that shocks me. I shift, an infinitesimal movement towards her lips. So close.
Her hands go around my neck, grazing the bruise on my jaw. I look away, almost shyly. She's drunk, I remind myself. She's wasted. She'll regret it tomorrow.
The breath of her lips rested a hairbreadth away from mine. A flicker of firelight between my legs, where her bare thighs graze.
Then, like strangers, we're kissing in the moonlight.
~~~~~
A/N: Crazy Unedited. School starts next week. I want to evaporate.
That also means slower-er updates. Sorry yall.
Here are sum gorgeous cover arts by lycheefanatic: