UNDER HIS SKIN || JungKook

17

I keep hitting the boxing bag, with the same indications my trainer gave me. And ever since I've positioned myself here, I've had this lame asshole trying to push my buttons with dumb comments about the way I'm hitting it. But I don't mind him. Even if I'm unable to hide my annoyance while tilting my head and huffing, I make a good job at ignoring him.

He chuckles, and I see him shaking his head through the corner of my eye. It's like he's trying to compete with me on who punches the boxing bag further. I step back after a few minutes, the sweat rolling down my arms, nape and neck as I try to recover from the amount of energy I've just wasted.

—Axel, put the kid to bed —he screams to my trainer, as soon as I sit on the floor, supporting my back against the wall.

—All talk —I finally say, still gasping for air—. I bet you wouldn't last a minute on a ring. Too much energy wasted through your mouth.

The man smirks at my comment, knowing damn well I finally fell for all of his provocations. On a normal day, I probably would have let it slide. I bet I wouldn't have battled an eye for his comments and actions. But today, I'm over sensitive. It happened this morning when I almost got into an argument with Mark for something so insignificant as a customer canceling a day before their appointment, and Mark telling me only today. It wasn't like I had a morning free for a small tattoo that wouldn't even take an hour. And here I am back again, challenging an asshole to a fight, knowing this same man is taller and bigger than me, and would probably knock me out with just three punches.

I still go up there, making sure all my hair is fixed on a ponytail and taking off my lip ring, before Axel places the padded protection helmet on my head.

It starts off well, despite being my first fight in the ring. I throw all my frustrations on him, roughly, as if he were the same guy Y/n is going to see tomorrow. Although this dude takes every single hit as if it were nothing. He just allows me to punch him, until I'm tired enough to keep going. And while I do well at protecting myself, a few punches still fly to my face. He's pissed off by the way I'm still standing, until a punch to my jaw makes me lose balance and fall to the floor.

I don't stand up though. Not because I'm too dizzy to go for another round, not because I'm knocked out, but because I know when I should retire. This fight was nonsense from the very beginning, and there is only one ending for me here -and I don't want to have my face aching every time I make the smallest move.

I get off the ring when Axel finally says the fight is over, and I remain unbothered by the laughs and comments the man keeps throwing at me as I walk to the locker room, where I try to heal the wound on my lip.

I thought my attitude would get better as the day passed by, but I'm only able to think about the moment I told Y/n it'd be a good idea to get herself into a Tinder date and meet someone new.

Dumb ass.

That's what I am.

Why the fuck did I encourage her to go on a date with a dickhead she doesn't even know? Why did I encourage her to go on a date at all?

I throw my head back at the sofa, as I let my body rest on the couch. Ever since I got home, I've tried to distract myself from my own thoughts. I've played video games, I've tried to cook something for dinner, I've tried to draw... And it all works at first, until I get too comfortable with what I do and my thoughts go back to the same origin.

So it's not surprising at all that I let myself go and get inspired by a TV ad about a hair dye. And I suddenly get the idea that, not only it'd help me to get distracted, it'd also look quite cool. I've never really tried to change my looks out of growing my hair longer, so why not give it a try.