My tongue lolled at the corner of my mouth as I expertly stroked the brush along the edge that bordered the floor. My back ached from the constant bending over the last few minutes, but I knew the final result would be worth it.
After making sure all the visible areas were painted over with the new color, I stood up straight, my bones cracking in the process. It wasn't like I'd been working on it for hours, but maybe I should get back to the gym.
Only this morning I had gotten the brilliant idea to paint the wall behind the bookshelf. I had been bored anyway and was looking for something to pass the time. Until the empty wall got on my nerves and I decided to paint it.
It had been a fleeting thought, but the deep emerald green would certainly compliment the wooden shelf. I was sure of it. So I had gotten one of the chauffeurs to get me the paint and started on it right after breakfast.
I was clueless as to how it should be done, but it wasn't hard and I certainly wasn't an amateur at it. I remembered my father letting me paint a small part of my wall pink when I was a kid because I was so obsessed with the color at the time.
Stepping back, I nodded to myself in satisfaction. All three edges of the wall had now been painted with a smaller brush. All that remained was for me to use the large roller to color the inside, and voila.
But before that a break was definitely needed, making me walk over to the table and take a big sip of my glass of water in which the ice cubes had already melted.
The room began to smell persistently of paint, so I opened the glass door leading to the balcony and stepped out into the fresh air. Today the weather was a bit cooler than usual, so the cold gnawed at my sweaty skin.
My green-stained fingers gripped the balcony railing and I looked out into the garden. The fountain was turned off and the flowers that bloomed colorfully a few months ago no longer existed, winter was now about to arrive.
There was still enough time before dinner to finish my work, so I didn't hurry back. I smiled as I watched two birds fly together and land on the balcony railing a few feet from me.
I made an effort to move as little as possible and took a mental note to mount a birdhouse with some seeds somewhere on the railing. The birds didn't stay long, as they were startled by a thud and scurried away.
Following the source of the sound, I found Jungkook's shiny black car parked in the driveway. He was standing right next to the vehicle, undoing the top button of his shirt. As if sensing eyes on him, his brown orbs found me standing on the balcony.
We hadn't exchanged a single word in the past few days. After hurrying out of the bedroom, I had sought out the rooftop. Spent an eternity just staring into space. When I had returned, Jungkook had already been in bed, but by the rhythm of his breathing, I had known he wasn't asleep yet.
The days that followed had passed in the same way. Jungkook went to work before I was even awake and I didn't know when he came back at night because I was passed out already. I was still hurt and angry at the same time because of the things he had said to me.
And now he was standing there, facing me and not wavering even for a second. He stood close enough for me to read the waiting expression on his face, but far enough that I couldn't tell if his breath was hitching just as mine was.
I saw his lips part as if he wanted to say something, even though he knew I wouldn't understand him from that distance, but sealed them shut. His chauffeur snapped him out of the little bubble we found ourselves in, probably asking if he had a wish.
I didn't stick around to see what he did after that, nor did I wonder why he had returned from work so much earlier today. Instead, I climbed the small ladder I had placed close enough to the wall and began painting the edge that bordered the ceiling.
I hoped Jungkook would hate it the moment he stepped into the bedroom. Maybe it seemed petty, but I would definitely find satisfaction if he complained with a red face about what I had done to his room.
The thought brought a smirk to my face and I continued happily until the door opened and closed. I didn't turn around, of course, and ignored his slowing footsteps. He was probably staring daggers into the back of my head.
But neither scolding nor anything else left his mouth and I followed with my ears as he walked first into the closet and then into the bathroom. His usual routine. A drop of paint fell on my shirt, but I didn't pay it any attention because it was an old shirt anyway.
My arm started to feel numb because I was constantly holding it up, so I dropped it and shook my fingers. And that's when I noticed Jungkook coming up next to the ladder, his eyes fixed on the wall.
He inspected the edges I had already painted and then reached for the large paint roller. I understood what he was trying to do.
"I don't need your help," I said flatly, looking away from him.
I saw him nod in the corner of my eye. "I know."
For some reason, it made me want to be angry when Jungkook began to sweep the paint roller across the wall with even motions. I hadn't decided to add a change to the bare room just because I wanted to piss him off, but I definitely hadn't imagined him helping me with it either.
Ugh. Mission failed.
If I didn't know he was going to continue despite my discomfort, I would make it clear to him that I wanted to complete the task on my own. But in the past almost five months, I had gotten to know Jungkook that much.
We worked in silence before I descended the ladder to pour more paint from the large bucket into my small jar. Having successfully painted a third of the edge, I moved the ladder on.
Jungkook was standing in my way and he stepped around me. His aftershave filled my nose despite the chemical whiff wafting in the air. I felt his gaze on me, but I continued with my work.
The little brush prolonged the whole process and by the time I moved the ladder one last time, Jungkook had already made more than half of the wall glow a deep green. He was a muscle pig, of course it would take less work for his arms.
And when he got under the ladder to make the last little bit of white disappear, our hands and brushes crossed. I gave him mine and took the roller to paint the last area. Finished and obsessed with the result, I was about to descend the steps to view the masterpiece from a distance when my elbow bumped the jar and it fell to the floor.
Landing right at Jungkook's feet, his socks and part of his pants were now green, causing my hand to fly to my mouth. I had luckily put plastic wrap on the hardwood floor so it wouldn't get dirty. But I had not planned for this to happen.
I almost snorted as Jungkook stepped off the puddle of paint and took off his socks so he wouldn't stain the floor when he headed for the bathroom. He looked up at me for a brief moment and I almost thought the corners of his mouth twitched.
Stepping out of the bathroom with fresh clothes, he found me just pushing the bookcase back into place, carefully avoiding it touching the wall. He helped me, or rather, took over the task completely.
I smiled because now at least a part of the room had character and was not an empty canvas. It immediately changed the atmosphere and I almost wanted to punch myself for why I hadn't gotten this idea sooner.
Jungkook came to stand next to me and look at our joint work. My lips were still upturned as I looked up at him, but the smile fell when our eyes met.
Suddenly, everything he had said was ringing in my head again. I couldn't help it. And he felt it. His eyes hardened and the glow in them disappeared. He kept looking at me as if waiting for a reaction.
I turned toward the utensils and put them away. "Don't expect a thank you for something I didn't ask you to do."
And I walked away.
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I stared at the emerald wall, the clock somewhere in the room ticking. I couldn't sleep, though my eyes burned and my joints ached from the physical exertion today.
Almost falling off the couch as a loud crash sounded against the door, I sat upright. Jungkook had not returned from wherever he had gone. I was about to lie back down when a muffled knocking pulled me from under my covers.
I knew it was Jungkook, but I wondered if he was just too stupid to open a door without waking the whole house. It was already past midnight. Ready to scold him, I swung open the door and something fell at my feet.
Not something, someone.
Jungkook groaned as his back made contact with the floor and a pungent smell filled my nose along with his aftershave. He was drunk.
"What are you doing?" I whisper-shouted down to him and he squeezed his eyes shut because of the bright light in the hallway as he looked up at me from his prone position.
"Obviously, I fell," he said, slurring his words. "Help me up?"
I knelt beside his massive body, carefully placing his arm around my shoulder. It took a lot of strength for my already weakened limbs to pull him to his feet, but I finally managed.
His weight felt heavier because he couldn't even stand up straight. Supporting him by his waist, I closed the door so no one would know about this incident and decided to take him to the bathroom first to get him to sober up.
"You reek." I scrunched up my face. "How much did you drink?"
He chuckled. "I don't know. One or two."
"One or two what? Glasses? Bottles?" I asked, out of breath and exhausted.
"Yeah, one or two."
Annoying prick. But it was obvious it wasn't just glasses of whatever he'd been drinking. And judging by the clothes from before, I also knew he hadn't left the house. So he had probably been drinking in his study. I didn't even want to know the reason why.
After what felt like an eternity and two near falls, we finally made it to the bathroom. I placed him on the edge of the bathtub, rummaged through the cabinets, and found a towel. God, I hadn't had to deal with drunk people in months.
Turning back to Jungkook, I nearly squealed as scissors dwelled just a few inches in front of my face.
"Where the hell did you get this?" I scolded, snatching them out of his hand. The last thing I wanted was to turn this night into a scene from Final Destination.
"Had them with me." he shrugged nonchalantly. His eyes were half open as a lazy smile pulled at his lips. "Brought them so you could cut my hair."
I paused at his words. Though a smirk remained on his face, his eyes were hollow. Even in his drunken state, I felt the heaviness of his request.
I cleared my throat. "You need a cold shower first, Jungkook."
"No, I don't."
"Pssh."
My hand pressed against his mouth to keep him from being even louder. Geez, drunks really couldn't gauge their volume sometimes. And then I jerked my hand away as his wet tongue explored my palm.
"Very mature," I rolled my eyes and he continued to snicker. "Come on, you need to sober up."
He ignored my words. Placed a hand on my hip and pulled me between his spread legs. "Cut my hair."
Though his hand lingered over the fabric of my nightshirt, his heat burned through and my skin tingled. His lazy brown orbs looked at every detail of my face with desperation until he settled on my eyes.
I felt bad for him, for whatever reason. It was frustrating to see that a grown-ass man could be so affected by the person who was supposed to support him the most.
A long breath escaped in a sigh. My eyes fell on the scissors before I set them on the bathroom counter. Jungkook watched my every move.
"You don't really want this," I whispered.
Now his sigh rang in my ears. He already seemed soberer than he had a few minutes ago, even though we hadn't actively done anything about it. I wondered why he still hadn't removed his hand.
"You're right." He admitted, his voice steadier and softer, though still buzzing with huskiness. "I don't."
I chewed on my bottom lip, waiting for him, knowing he was searching for his next words. I didn't know if it was his drunkenness that made him talk so openly, but maybe it wasn't a bad thing. Drunk words were sober thoughts.
He scoffed. "You must be thinking I'm pathetic."
"I am not," I said, more quickly than I had intended.
"But you probably think I'm a mama's boy." he raised his right eyebrow as he looked up at me. I couldn't deny that, and so my lack of response drew a roar of laughter from him. It didn't sound genuine.
The way he had so sternly declared that it was enough I didn't appreciate because all I wanted was to keep his mother from lambasting him in front of everyone. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew that each of them was already used to it, though.
I would never condone it, nor would I mince words. I just couldn't gauge how much the siblings had to swallow to have made peace with her bossiness.
"She would eventually get tired of it or find something new to criticize." His voice dropped to a whisper as if he was talking to himself. Repeating a routine he created to stay sane in this house.
It felt like he was trying to justify his ground to me. This was the most vulnerable I had ever seen Jungkook.
"I have my own methods, Reva," he said. "They may be stupid and unacceptable to you, but I know what I'm doing."
This conversation wasn't really an apology, but he gave me insight into his thought process. It didn't excuse the things he spat in my face but it was something. I understood. Not everyone thought the same way and not everyone would act the same way.
My interference had probably been misplaced even if my intentions were completely different.
He tilted his head to the side. "Did you know she didn't want me to marry you?"
I snorted, for that was no surprise to me judging by the way she treated me. "What a shocker," I joked.
His shoulders shook before he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "But I married you anyway."
Someone else probably would have been offended, thinking it was all out of spite. And maybe I was an asshole to the satisfied feeling inside me. She hadn't wanted me, and yet here I was.
"You did," I confirmed.
"I did." he nodded back.
We stared at each other for a few minutes. Even though I knew Jungkook's tongue was loosening because he had been drinking, I still appreciated that he shared a small part of what was in his head with me.
And maybe he would berate himself for it in the morning, maybe he would force himself back into that shell to pretend to be an obedient son. At least I knew that deep down Jungkook didn't agree with what his mother was demanding.
Besides, it was kind of surprising that he was talking behind her back without a conscience at all. I was more or less a stranger and she, well, she was his mother.
His hand on my hip dropped between his legs, making me realize how much the alcohol was getting to him now. He could barely hold himself up, his eyes glassy and red. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and snapped out of the haze.
"Come on, I'll take you to bed," I offered.
Throwing his arm back over my shoulder, we padded back to the bedroom. His steps were steadier and more collected now, which made all the supporting easier for me. Reaching his bed, he dropped his ass on the mattress. I made him drink a glass of water.
"Do you want me to bring you new clothes?" I asked, unsure if I could even manage to put them on him.
He shook his head slowly and without me seeing it coming, he took off his shirt. Golden skin filled my vision, ripples of muscle adorning his torso in all the right places. Even in a sitting position, his stomach was flat and chiseled with abs.
A tattoo sat at his rib and stretched up to his right pec. Not wanting to stare any longer, I averted my eyes, too quick to make out the design. He tossed the shirt into a corner and scrambled to his feet.
I didn't know why I suddenly got so awkward, but I didn't know where to look. Watching Jungkook undress seemed wrong, but I didn't want to leave without offering help in case he needed it.
And that turned out to be a good decision because as he started to undo the button of his jeans he started to sway. So much so that I had to reach out to keep him from falling. Corded muscles of his arms covered in veins gripped me tightly as cuss words left his lips.
"Lie down, I'll help you." I urged, and to my surprise, he didn't object.
A groan rumbled in his chest as he let himself fall back onto the bed. My fingers worked on the button and then the zipper of his jeans.
"Damn. No foreplay?" he teased.
"I'm this close to dumping your ass on the doorstep to freeze your balls off," I warned to which he just laughed wickedly.
After successfully stripping off his jeans, I tucked him in. It was still a mystery how much he must have drunk to fall asleep within a minute, but one thing was for sure and that was that he would wake up in the morning with a hangover.
I had told him to take a shower.
Switching off the light, I sat back on the couch with a deep exhale. It had the perfect position for me to watch Jungkook in case he vomited in his sleep. I was an asshole, but not heartless enough to let him choke on his own puke and die.
Fatigue was now eating at my eyes as well and darkness was taking over me. When I opened my eyes in the morning, the bed was empty and made. A blanket had been thrown over my body.
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A/N: I finished writing this chapter on Sunday actually and got too impatient to keep it in my drafts, hope you liked it! <3