Heart&Seoul || jjk/kth/bts

Chapter 9: Heaven... or hell

Taehyung

I usually would never let anyone know exactly when I'm suffering, at least not through words. I tend to keep it to myself and avoid all the questions people ask me as soon as my pain shows on my face. I even get mad if they insist, and I can't seem to hide any of it. My face is a clear window to my soul, every feeling is well on display, unless people are too oblivious to see it.

However, this time it's different. I'm hurting too much to just sit there and deal with it on my own. I need someone. And I only want go to that one person who I'm sure won't ask about it. I've known her for a bit more than a month, and yet I trust her enough to call her. She picks up at the third ring.

"Hey Bridge, are you free?" I say as I bite my nails.

Her voice is friendly as usual. "I'm currently at the park to take my uncle's dog for a walk, what's wrong?" She doesn't know that her statement was enough to make my eyes water.

"Nothing." It's impossible for me to hold back a sigh. She's probably thinking I mean the exact opposite, but doesn't ask further. "I've just had a rough day and if you could come to my place I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure, no problem" she chimes. I'm positive she won't investigate what's bothering me until I share it with her. It's what our deal is about: no romantic strings, no questions asked. We're not strangers with benefits anymore, that's for sure, but she's the type of friend who respects the boundaries we set, and it's what I need the most at this particular time. There's always time to talk later, I want her to break me off first.

"Thank you" I say, relieved that she accepted my invitation.

When I hang up, I take a quick shower and get dressed – although it doesn't really matter what clothes I wear, they'll end up on my living room floor anyway. Less than twenty minutes later, Bridget is knocking at my door. I open it with little to no delicacy and forget what good manners mean. She doesn't even have the time to say hello: I grab her hand and pull her inside, only to slam her against the door afterwards, my thigh immediately establishing dominance by parting her legs, eager to hear what Bridget has to moan about it.

"Sorry, hi" I breathe out once a whole minute of making out has passed.

"Hi," she mutters. "Don't apologise."

Bridget drops her purse on the floor and gets rid of her jacket, while I remove my T-shirt. I let her take a moment to appreciate my bare torso before I pin her hands above her head and my lower body crashes into hers. I press my hips against her whilst we devour each other's lips. My mind has already gone blank.

We finally take a breath the moment she pushes me away and leads me to the sofa, where I sit down while she undresses and throws her jeans to the floor, exposing the elaborated dragon tattoo on her thigh. So far I've also noticed the tiny shooting star on her wrist, the twin-pan balance and the woman's face drawn in only one line on her arms, the flower that grows on her ankle all the way up to her calf, and a lightning bolt on her middle finger. My eyes are fixed on her figure, I wish they could take off the rest of her outfit with a simple look. I know she wouldn't stop me if I did.

Once her legs are free from the denim fabric and her shoes are out of the way, I grab her wrist again, pull her closer and let her sit on my lap to kiss her. We move in sync, which sends tingles down my spine and ignites a fire where my body is in contact with hers. Since her eyes are closed, I catch her off guard when my hand pulls her underwear aside and touches her cautiously to learn where she likes it the most. She now has not one, but two – the number of fingers I'm using – more reasons to keep swinging her hips in slow but steady movements. With her mouth still glued to mine, I smirk proudly at every sound that leaves her lips: nothing's more gratifying than knowing I'm doing a good job.