You squint from the sudden light seeping through the door, heart beating like your metronome, pounding like a steady, shallow drum beat.
Immediately, your eyes are drawn towards Jungkook's figure hovering into your view, his dangerous dark eyes catching yours with bitter acknowledgment. You're suddenly speechless, utterly frozen under his cold gaze, still processing that he's standing in front of you.
Half freaking naked.
Your mouth drops in disbelief, eyes blatantly darting down to his bulging muscles chiseled to perfection.
His bare chest is glistening with sweat, etched above his toned, daunting abs that make you gulp. There's a masculine tilt to his acute jawline that delicately meets his ears, embellished with a pair of silver earrings. Glossy with dampness, his tousled jet hair curtains his forehead, tumbling down to his perfect set of eyebrows, slowly rising into a questionable arc. You look away immediately.
Damn. God really did spend quite some time on him.
Maybe a little more than needed.
You snap your gaze to his face where you catch him staring down at you, jaw clenching and unclenching.
"I didn't—I wa—I'm lost," you choke out, stammering like an idiot.
He remains silent, staring at you for what seemed like minutes. You would rather have him say something—anything really—than stare at you like you stole his favorite chocolate chip cookie back in kindergarten.
Suddenly, he moves to shove his hands inside his dark grey sweatpants, pouting to the slightest extent possible as he opens the door wider. "Come in," he says, voice projected towards you coolly.
At that, your mouth drops in disbelief. You had expected him to be angered or boiling mad even. But he isn't, at the least, annoyed by your presence at all.
There he stands instead, cool as a freaking cucumber.
Bipolar much?
His bulky figure soon turns, exposing his bare, sculpted back as he walks inside, his gesture indirectly inviting you in.
For a moment, you considered sprinting away but realizing he'll just chase after you, you decide to enter after him. Besides, you're curious as to why he's even letting you in.
What if he's going to lock you up in a basement? Or make you his little puppet before selling you to some crazy, slimy mob. Oh God, what if he's a vampire?
You shake your head at those ridiculous thoughts. If he wanted to kill you, heck he would have done it a while ago.
So you follow—at a safe distance—while also physically prepared for something to attack you out of the blue.
You glance around then, sinking in the characteristics of this dark, mysterious room. It's like an empty canvas—lacking any form of art or deco.
Just like his soul, a little voice snickers in your head. You cough, trying not to laugh at your own little joke.
Behind you, however, there's a massive glass partition before which stands various intimidating exercise equipment and a punching bag. Only then do you realize what all the noise was about. He had been boxing.
Boxing? What for?
Averting your attention to the front, you watch Jungkook moving to sit down at a large desk, now wearing a silky black shirt over his bulging muscles. Gulping, you muster out woozy steps towards him, stopping before a plush chair, not sure what comes next. Daisies growing on his head? Oompa Loompa's dancing on the desk? God damn, Y/N, focus.
"Take a seat," Jungkook says, eyes solely fixed on the few papers scattered over the table before him. You're stunned he's actually offering you to sit.
You stare at him blankly, taking in his elegant poise by the desk. A few seconds pass by in silence before his eyes meet your face, annoyance apparent on his features.
"I believe I asked you to sit down," he says, cocking his head to the side a bit. "I don't like repeating myself."
You snap out of your trance, mentally smacking yourself for being such a slowpoke. Pulling the chair to sit down, you fold your arms to your chest, slightly irked that you're even obeying him. "Well?" You say after a moment of silence, "What do you want?"
His eyes freeze over the papers, head slowly tilting up to meet your face. His dark eyes pause briefly on your features before slipping down your face, taking in his white shirt that loosely hugs your naked body.
Crap. He probably knows you haven't showered in two days. A fragment of embarrassment slinks in, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, earning his gaze to snap back up to your face.
"Tell me something," he states flatly, making you stare at him plainly, processing his words in the moment of silence that ensues.
"What makes you think I'd tell you anything?" You ask, voice slightly sharper than you intended.
His cheek twitches and you intuitively know he's gritting his teeth as he pretends to think. "Because I'm being nice," comes his annoying response.
"Nice?" You scoff, making his jaw clench. "You would know the definition of nice if it crawled up your—"
"Shut up," he snaps, the sudden change in his tone startling you. "I saved you," he spits then, "no matter how stupid of a female you make—I saved you from those vicious, perverted hitmen. I could've left you drowning at sea too. Unfortunately, I didn't."
Anger seeps through your veins once you processed the 'stupid female' remark, immediately making your temper rise. "You only saved me for information, you jerk," you say sternly, eyes blazing with fury, "too bad I'm not giving you that."
Jungkook's jaw clenches again before his eyes pursue back to the letters of the papers beneath his dark, roil eyes. "What," he says then, voice low and dangerous, "did the men that escorted you look like?"
Annoyed that his pose served to ignore your previous comment, you clench your fists over your thighs, keeping yourself from arguing further. Still, you manage to recollect the memory of the men that almost stole your resume.
"Didn't you take them down?" You ask, replaying the scenario of the night in your head, "You should know yourself."
His eyes slip away from the papers, landing somewhere over the stack of pale blue files on the desk. It's hard to tell, but you catch a mere hue of red blushing his cheeks.
"They got away."
You blink at him, taken back, then, "Damn, I thought you were some high-level mafia boss or something. But nahh, got my hopes up for nothing."
Anger flares through his eyes in an instant.
You're about to smirk at his reaction, but immediately feel your heart plunge when his face leans in, eyes seething with venom, inches away from your own.
"Don't you ever," he starts, voice deadly quiet, "act like you know a single damn thing about me. You should be grateful I'm letting a fool like you stay under my roof, my house."
"I'd be grateful if you rather let me go," you retort.
"Drop the attitude," He warns, "I've had enough of it—enough of you. Answer me now Red or I won't hesitate to punish you."
You raise a brow at him questionably. "Punish me?" You ask, rolling your eyes at his attempt to scare you. "Well go ahead then, punish me. I'm not telling you any—"
Within a heartbeat, he was out of his chair and around the desk.
You stop breathing, mind stammering directions as he cages you with his arms on either side of the chair. His sudden proximity snaps something in you, making your body instantly tense.
And from his eyes up close, you discover that they aren't jet black at all. They are the darkest shade of brown, dancing inside the black ring of his irises.
Jungkook's head tilts to the side, angling his face so his breath brushes your upper lip. Your heart plunges, pounding the hardest in your chest when his eyes start to travel down your body with agonizing slowness.
"I wouldn't have to be so rude to you if you ever just listened to me."
You gulp, feeling your skin prickle once Jungkook's hand slowly hovers over the first button on your white shirt. A shiver runs down your back and your heart beats quicker, knocking down your nerves as adrenaline rushes through your body faster than the good old Usain Bolt.
"This shirt you're wearing, Red? It's mine. You know what that means?"
Nothing could have prepared you for this. You swallow. "I think it means that it's your shirt?"
He doesn't even inch a smile at you.
His index finger meets your collar bone, gently trailing down to the first button of your shirt. What in the living buttons is this man doing?
Push him off, Y/N! Kick him in the nuts!
Somehow, your body refuses to follow the logical directions your mind is screaming. It's like you're trapped into a whole new person because never have you felt so... sensuous.
You imagined, filthily, his hand reaching lower and striping your shirt off, his lips coming down to your cleavage--
Jungkook clicks his tongue over his inner cheek, tapering his eyes at you challengingly. "You're wearing my shirt which means I have leverage," he says, twirling his finger around the second button, making your breath hitch.
"Either do what I say or the shirt's mine," he says firmly, "Right here, right now."
Clenching your jaw, you level your chin at him "Then take it off," you say boldly, feeling your teeth chatter like a chicken in the arctic ocean. "Take my shirt off, Jungkook. I dare you."
A small smirk hints against his lips. "You think I wouldn't?" He asks, tone with such arrogance that makes your blood boil. Then, with such ease and undeniable grace, he undoes the second button, revealing a snippet of your bra. You swallow.
Never has anyone gotten this close to you. You bite your lower lip to stifle a moan once his index finger trails down your skin so artistically, his elegant yet icy cold fingers leaving a trail of invisible frost.
His lips are only inches away from you and you imagined him grabbing a fist full of your hair and kissing you, sucking your lips and---no, Y/N. What is wrong with you?
"Wait," you choke out, and he abruptly brings his hand away from you, resting them back over the arms of the chair, eyes gleaming with such triumph that irritates you. "Talk," he demands.
"They were masked men," you start, feeling his hot breath on your lips. "So I wouldn't know what they looked like. Although they had an accent. It was a Spanish accent—I think. I'm not sure."
He pulls away immediately upon having your answer. "You can get out now," he says, dismissing you with a single wave of his hand.
You didn't like this. You didn't like this at all. It's like you're controlled by him—like a little puppet to pull strings wherever and whenever he liked. You freaking hate it. Hate him.
Springing to your feet, you grab him by the collar, yanking him close that you end up standing nose-to-nose with him. He doesn't flinch.
"Arrogant, ungrateful, asshole," you mutter through gritted teeth, glaring into his eyes. "I hate you."
A smile breaks over his lips—an evil, wicked, mocking smile that makes you tighten your hands over his collar. Amused, he cocks his head to the side, tugging a strand of hair behind your ears casually and teasingly.
"I know," Jungkook says, eyes slipping to your lips for a moment.
~~~~~
A/N: Severely Unedited. Phew. We're finally steering the roller coaster to some pretty spicy stuff ;)