I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

Chapter 6 | Give me a long kiss goodnight

Less than ten minutes separates you from the party, and you're absolutely not fucking ready.

The apartment buildings area where Jimin lives takes shape before your eyes before you could even start listing a series of points that could help you and Jungkook to look like two real lovebirds swallowed by the spiral of deep, scorching, overwhelming love -you know, that first phase of " falling in love " when you see the world through rose-colored glasses and your partner is flawless and you just want to spend your whole time (or life) with them because they smell like fate.

Your childhood friend doesn't live far from you, only a few blocks away that you can cover by foot -but he's still distant enough for you to use this precious time to... dunno, to connect with one another to not look like two complete strangers who are improvising to be actual lovers; and, dunno, to get on the same page over some topics that for sure will be brought up when your friends will give you the third degree. Like... shit , you didn't even discuss basic notions like: where you two met; who confessed first; how did you start dating).

Instead, you walked in silence, minding your own business -as if you were going to a party playing the part of "friends", ugh.

You swallow thickly, hugging yourself into your arms when a cold shiver travels down your spine. You heart quivers feverishly in your chest the moment your eyes trail to Jimin's balcony -brimmed with flowers that you personally helped Yerim to choose when she told you she wanted to give a bit of color to her house- and smashes through your ribcage in a sort of desperate attempt to make you turn around and leave.

And you actually do.

You halt your walk, abruptly, slightly whirl to your right so you can go back the way you've come and run home and call your friends and tell them you don't feel too well and-and watch a movie while drowning your sorrows in a bowl of fried chips; but just when you position your feet on the ground and lift your heel to give yourself enough physical boost to make such a simple movement, you notice him -Jeon Jungkook. Your partner in crime. Who's halted his own walk too, and is now staring back at you with a puzzled expression dancing across his relaxed (way too relaxed) features.

Hands jammed in his jacket pockets, he tilts his head to the side as if in this position he should catch your train of thoughts better. "Are you ok?" he questions you, lashes flickering fast when you give him back silence -and a terrorized look.

You avoid his stare, which isn't exactly a brilliant idea because the first thing you spot is Taehyung's car situated in the parkplace that runs along the uphill sidewalk (well, "car" is a compliment. " Rattletrap" would be the most appropriate term to describe that thing he persists on proudly calling " car ") and a mild queasiness starts brewing in your stomach.

"I feel like throwing up," you admit, observing the little dog-pluche resting close to the back window (a toy you won during a fair but that became his property because he actually lent you the money -Tae's logic sometimes goes beyond every human comprehension). You munch the corner of your trembling mouth, exhaling a breath that sounds more like a smothered squeak. "T-this is bullshit. We - we'll get caught and they'll hate me for the rest of my life and they'd have reason to be and-and—" you turn to Jungkook -an action you avoided to do for the entire duration of your blathering because you aren't strong enough to withstand the expression of mockery surely crossing his face- but words fade in an incoherent mumbling when you realise that your gloomy predictions are just a product of your worries.