It's Complicated (OC x Yoongi)

t w e l v e

Regrets and Police Stations

Danbi

He's addicting. The way he is holding my cheeks so gently. The way he is standing so close to me, our bodies pressed together. The way our lips mold together. He feels so good.

My arms are wrapped around his waist, hugging him even closer to me. His hands leave my cheeks, as his arms sling around my shoulders, keeping me in his hold.

The kiss started gently with a few pecks, but we get lost in the moment, exchanging open mouth kisses. The physical contact between us makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. I never want to stop.

I release a muffled moan as his tongue pushes beneath the barrier of my teeth. My hands wander from his waist to his shoulder blades and my fingertips press into them, making him let out a silent groan. His pelvis is pressed against mine, trapping me between him and the kitchen counter.

This feels so right.

Wait... my subconscious kicks in. This isn't supposed to feel right. This isn't supposed to feel good.

I suddenly remember, who we are and what we are doing. We're not supposed to do that.

I open my eyes in shock and use all the strength I can gather to push him away.

"Stop!" I utter.

To my surprise he doesn't look shocked at all. I can rather see hurt in his eyes. He takes a step forward, back towards me, but I hold my hand up in front of me to stop him.

"Fuck, Yoongi...no." I mutter. "What did we do...?" I turn away from him, propping myself up on the kitchen counter, staring into the sink, where the plates we used for breakfast are still sitting in.

"Danbi...," he mumbles right behind me. I feel his warm breath on my neck, his presence making me want to turn around and kiss him again.

He lays his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off immediately.

"Don't use me as an outlet in your fight with your wife." I deadpan, still trying to process what just happened. This is simply too much for two days.

This time both of his hands go to my shoulders, spinning me around. He looks at me with a mixture of pain and anger in his eyes, but I avert my gaze.

"This is what you think? Danbi I..."

"No," I interrupt him. "You should go."

He furrows his eyebrows, not stepping away from me. "No. We should talk about it. Danbi, please."

I shake my head, my eyes glossing over. "No. Yoongi, please just leave."

He looks down at his feet, brows still furrowed, his jaw clenched. I don't know why it hurts so much, when he actually does turn around, grabs his stuff and leaves my apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

Shit, we both fucked up. I should have pushed him away from the beginning. I shouldn't have kissed him back. Why did he have to kiss me? The whole situation overwhelms me.

I'm crouching down on my kitchen floor, ignoring the cold tiles against the bare skin of my thighs, my back leaning against the kitchen counter. I don't dare to cry, although I want to. I'm too shocked. I have a bad conscious although it wasn't me who initiated the kiss. I kissed him back, nevertheless. And I liked it.

I have no idea for how long I've been sitting here, when I hear the impatient knocking on my apartment door. I'm torn inside. A part of me wishes it's Yoongi who came back, another part of me dreads it.