Under Your Skin || Jungkook

8

After that amazing scene I pulled, I chose to go back to my place and not move an inch for the rest of the night. Focused on my half empty glass, and the group of friends that keep joking, dancing and singing. And although the focus isn't on me, because I tried hard to avoid it, I feel like someone is watching me. For one fast second, I think it could be Seokwoo, maybe he thought I was cute with my rambling. But no. When I look for him, he's in the middle of a conversation with Mark and Namjoon.

And I still feel those eyes. It's drilling on my skin, and even gets to make me move uncomfortably on my seat. Maybe it's just my imagination and overthinking. But I realize it's not when I decide to drive my eyes back to where they were, and my eyes find Jungkook's, who's just standing in the other side of the room with Yoongi and Hobi.  

I could show with my face how annoyed I am, I could call him out with just a look. But I don't. It's like that time in the pub, his gaze is energetic and powerful, but I don't want him to look away -not even for a brief second. I break eye contact first, looking down at my drink.

That scene with Seokwoo, by the way, is something that has happened all my life. As soon as I meet a guy that looks minimally attractive, and I have to take the lead somehow, I start acting dumb and ruin whatever could happen. And, when I'm comfortable enough with that guy to talk in a casual way -without it seeming forced- the friendship we built ruins whatever attraction I felt for him. And that's how you end up being a virgin at 26.

At three am, when some decide it's time to go to sleep, I take that as the perfect excuse to sneak away. After Steve and Carl, I walk upstairs. I liked hanging out with all of them, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but I still have the feeling I wasn't having it, although I tried -which I guess is normal, since I don't have that bond with either of them. So sneaking away when my body thinks it's enough is the best decision for me. 

I throw one of the thick blankets I found in the closet over the beige moquette, and one of the pillows goes right after, setting my bed on the floor next to the right side of the mattress. I think it's a good moment to change clothes, since I'm all alone here. 

I cry out loud when I realize I only brought an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt, and tight cotton shorts. It makes sense though, because I thought I would be sleeping with one of the girls instead.

I rush to change clothes, and hide under another blanket. 

Peace only lasts a few more minutes, before I hear the footsteps getting nearer to the door and his shadow eclipsing the light that gets through the thin line on the lower part of the door. During a few seconds, the whole room is lighted, but it goes back to dark quite fast. I hear his boots falling heavily on the moquette, the floor vibrating slightly with the impact. And I don't hear of him until he throws himself on the bed.

The blankets move once, twice, three times. I roll my eyes as he keeps rolling on the mattress, and I'm closer to tell him to stay still for once. But, before I'm able to, he moves again and talks to me.

—Get on the bed.

I ignore him. I don't even turn to look at his figure through the darkness.

—Will you really make me get up and get you in bed myself?

No answer. I know he wouldn't dare to do it. 

But I forget I don't know him, despite thinking I read him perfectly. He snorts and moves the blankets once again. For one second I think he might be rolling in bed like he's done one hundred times already, until I hear him getting off the mattress and his footsteps getting closer to where I am. 

—Alright —I stop him, sitting on the floor—. I'll go.

I throw the pillow back on the bed, and while his back is facing me, I rush to get under the blankets.