{BOOK ONE}...When literature student Jeon Jungkook steps in for his sick roommate to interview young prominent entrepreneur Kim Taehyung, he encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant, and intimidating, but little does he perceive the encounter wi...
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{Song recommendation: Jessie Ware- say you loveme }
Jungkook P.O.V.
I did follow my heart, and I have a sore ass and an anguished, broken spirit to show for it. I have to go.
That's it... I have to leave.
He's no good for me, and I am no good for him.
How can we possibly make this work? And the thought of not seeing him again practically chokes me... my beyond layers.
I hear the door click open. Oh no - he's here.
He puts something down on the bedside table, and the bed shifts under his weight as he climbs in behind me.
"Hush," he breathes, and I want to pull away from him, move to the other side of the bed, but I'm paralyzed. I cannot move and lie stiffly, not yielding at all.
"Don't fight me, Kook, please," he whispers.
Gently, he pulls me into his arms, burying his nose in my hair, kissing my neck.
"Don't hate me," he breathes softly against my skin, his voice achingly sad. My heart clenches anew and releases a fresh wave of silent sobbing. He continues to kiss me softly, tenderly, but I remain aloof and wary.
We lie together like this, neither saying anything for ages. He just holds me, and very gradually, I relax and stop crying. Dawn comes and goes, and the soft light gets a bit brighter as morning moves on, and still we lie quietly. The outside moves with pouring rain hitting the window panels. Such a gloomy day
"I bought you some Advil and some arnica cream," he says after a long while.
I turn very slowly in his arms so I can face him. I am resting my head on his arm. His eyes are flinty hazel and guarded.
I gaze at his beautiful face. He's giving nothing away, but he keeps his eyes on mine, hardly blinking. Oh, he is so breathtakingly good-looking. In such a short time, he's become so, so dear to me. Reaching up, I caress his cheek and run the tips of my fingers through his stubble. He closes his eyes and exhales slightly.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
He opens his eyes and looks at me puzzled.
"What for?"
"What I said."
"You didn't tell me anything I didn't know." And his eyes soften with relief. "I am sorry I hurt you."
I shrug.
"I asked for it." And now I know. I swallow. Here goes. I need to say my piece.
"I don't think I can be everything you want me to be," I whisper. His eyes widen slightly, and he blinks, his fearful expression returning.
