Sweet Lies (A Jungkook FF) [Sequel to The Cold CEO]

Chapter 10

There is one pain I often feel but never show. You wouldn't know it because it was caused by your absence.

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Y/n's POV:

My heart beat against my chest, throbbing in the cavity it lay in.

You know the gut feeling you get? The one that haunts you like there is no tomorrow?

That was the only thing which was close to compare to what I was feeling.

The intuition of running to someone who stripped away everything from you?

You would say no.

But deep down you still wanted to at least see if they were okay.

And it was all that you wanted to know you told yourself.

I grunted as I got up from the cozy ottoman, the fur blanket on top as I always liked.

"You're okay, babe?" The familiar voice asked, holding my cheek as she caressed it, making me face her.

A lot of richness to her tone and power behind her chest voice.

She looked beautiful in the  moonlight, hiding her face in my neck and hair, pressing my trembling hand in hers.

"If we together and ya ex die and you cry...you single," she spoke, proving that she was a savage once again.

"We're not together, Riri," I mumbled as she gazed at me with eyes of fire that'd speak stories she'd never tell.

I wish someone was as infatuated with me as she was, enough and willing to kill all my rivals.

When I think about that again, she's already killing my rivals. That charms me.

The pictures that hung on the walls, the ones I specifically added to make myself understand where I came from, all hit me hard as if I had something missing.

The curtain that once opened, the one that showed me the midnight sky which channeled different emotions that continued stirring up in me was finally closed.

Jungkook's POV:

Darkness.

Darkness.

My head hurt as if it was banged open into two pieces yet been stuck together with just glue and nothing else has been changed.

The bag they had put on my head to cover my vision had made me so lightheaded that the smell of the peanuts that might've probably been in it before my head, reminded me of peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It felt like my body was just thrown into the trunk of a car, bound and gagged, then pulled out again after hours, thrown away on a floor, left alone in a damp place. Or was I?

What gave it away? The fact that the very next minute, I was pulled up, my hands and feet still bound. I don't even have shoes on.

The feeling of my bunny socks against the slightly wet floor made me wonder if I threw up right now, would the tape peel off?

When the bag was taken off my head, I knew that I'd end up on the news again, not the way it always happens, if I wasn't careful with the man holding a freakin' gun that I've only seen in movies.

"If you would just sit around in your company and stop tagging around places," the man in the black suit, he sounded even creepier when he talked in a soft voice. "-that would be nice."