Watermelon Sugar | MYG

*7*

Making eye contact with him after those words was something different. He is looking directly at you, his expression casual, almost as if he's talking about the weather. Observing your reaction, he blinks and waits, waits for you to decide what you think about what he has just said.

It's unnerving, the way he's so relaxed and unfazed, making you wonder if he even cares what your response will be. He has the expression of a man that has just stated the truth and not offered a suggestion. Maybe that's exactly what he had done. Maybe he has no intention of finding out if there is something under the shirt you're wearing. And it serves you right, seeing as you've done the same thing to him just moments ago.

"Well," you speak up, knowing that the silence has been going on for too long, knowing that one of you needs to speak up and feeling that it wouldn't be him. "I'm not wearing much, I'm afraid."

"No?" he asks, a barely noticeable hint of a smile on his face.

Slowly, you shake your head. "No."

He doesn't say anything, simply continuing to look at you, not showing any emotions clearly on his face. The ball was supposed to land in his court but it had obviously hit the net because he isn't doing anything. And the little you know about Yoongi tells you that that won't change. He's leaving it up to you. You're the one who gets to decide how this night ends. You're the one who decides what's going to happen now.

And if you don't do anything, it'll end, here and now. If you don't do anything, the two of you will continue as if nothing had happened. You can't allow that.

You gather courage, all the courage possible. Finally deciding that this is it and that you're going to do what needs to be done, you stand up, watching Yoongi as he watches you, his eyes going up and down as he stares you down from the other side of the table. It takes you two steps, two steps alone to suddenly find yourself directly in front of him. Looking up at you, Yoongi doesn't move an inch. A part of you wonders if he's finding joy in this, making you do all the work.

"Do you want to see for yourself or should I go to sleep?" you blurt out.

Acting more ballsy than you truly are, it's your turn to stare him down. He is not going to make you do all the work, say all the words, and start it all. Absolutely not.

He seems to realize it because he's uncrossing his legs, still looking directly into your eyes. At a snail slow pace, he stands up, tilting his head to the side casually before taking a step towards you, lessening the distance between you to about an inch. He's slow and he's slow on purpose, savoring the moment before all hell breaks loose. Or perhaps giving you a chance to change your mind. You don't know and you never will find out because he finally closes the distance and presses his lips to yours.

Immediately, you feel relief. Pure and utter relief because it has finally happened, you are here now and it will no longer haunt you in the back of your mind, making you wonder if you should make a move or not, if you're imagining everything or if your interest in him is returned. Relief is the strongest feeling that you can distinguish but that doesn't mean much - the movement of his lips on yours, the mingling of your breath with his makes your brain malfunction almost immediately, giving you only one option - to feel.

His lips are soft and determined, overpowering yours without much effort. You don't stand a chance against him, immediately giving up on sanity and a fighting chance now that you get to experience him. The kiss makes you gasp quickly, the passion that's brewing underneath it very literally taking your breath away. You've been kissed many times, and you've been kissed well, but no one has ever kissed you like he does. Your hands reach for him, anchoring you to him as they go around his neck, your fingers immediately running through his hair as he hugs you around the waist and pulls you right against him.