form follows heart /jungri

v. seal the deal

a/n: a bit late but it's finally here! tell me your thoughts:) it motivates me to edit and write quickly. thanks for reading<333!!!

Yerim shouldn't have opened her eyes, not when her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her stomach was churning. She sat up, heart beating faster than normal and rubbed her face. Alcohol was an nasty substance: she couldn't remember yesterday night's event, nor could she figure out why her apartment smelled like hotel food, pancakes and bacon.

It wasn't until she was cleaning the gunk from around her eyes that she realized the bedsheets underneath her were gray instead of white and pastel pink. 

Yerim scrambled out of the bed, almost jumping out of her own skin when she saw what she was wearing. Plaid pajama pants and a black shirt - large enough to engulf her entire body. She cursed, looking around the unfamiliar room for her clothes, feeling the sensation of a thousand tiny ants crawling over skin on her legs and arms. Where was she? Why was she wearing someone else's clothes? And how did she get into these clothes?

The good news? Joy would be so proud if she knew that Yerim had a one-night stand with someone she couldn't even remember.

The bad news? When someone knocked on the door, asking if they could come in, Yeirm realized that who she thought was a stranger wasn't one at all.

"Oh my god," she whispered, kneeling and gripping her hair. "Oh my god." At this point, she didn't need to be buried if she died because horror was doing that job.

Of course, out of everyone, Jungkook was on the other side.

"Are you awake?"

Yerim squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face into her knees. She was so screwed.

"Can I come in?"

This must be Jungkook's room. She racked her brain, replaying what had happened last night, from downing shots to complaining about Jungkook to dancing to- Blank. That was where her memory stopped.

"I made breakfast," he continued, "It'll probably help your hangover."

"Don't talk to me," she snapped.

A few seconds passed by with no noise, so dead silent that she swore she could hear feathers dropping and mice scurrying. Somehow, the silence was not making anything better. Even worse, it was as if everything she did last night was floating and dancing between them, teasing and taunting her.

"Where's the breakfast?" Yerim finally shrieked out of frustration, flinging the door open. Jungkook was standing with a hand on his hip, lips twitching.

The bastard was amused.

God, she wanted to punch him.

"Downstairs. Follow me."

Yerim watched his receding backside, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. She got a vague picture: her falling onto a man and touching that man's chest. The more she thought about it, watching him cross a huge living room, the more she remembered. Flashes and bits of an image, as if she was watching a movie, but enough fragments to form a comprehensible picture. Basically, she had utterly embarrassed herself yesterday night.

Maybe it was better to leave.

"Are you going to be standing there for the next hour?" Jungkook looked at his watch. "Time is ticking."

Her hackles immediately rose.

Suddenly, all she wanted to do was to prove him wrong.

Scowling, Yerim followed him downstairs, half of her shouting in pain and the other half bristling from his casual comment.