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"So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream."
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Anticipation hung in the air-a profound, almost palpable sense of it.
A formidable and robust emotion coursed through her being.
That's precisely how she felt, still reclined on the bed, entirely devoid of clothing, her delicate frame continuing to perspire lightly.
Stray tendrils of her hair remained steadfastly adhered to her glistening countenance.
Her hands lay at her sides as she faced Jungkook, awaiting an answer worthy of commendation.
However, instead of responding, he continued to immerse himself in the inhalation of the noxious substance.
"Leave," he conveyed calmly, yet his tone resonated with an undercurrent of wrath and irritation.
"What?!" she queried, her disbelief unmistakable.
"I said, depart immediately," he articulated, this time with increased volume.
He discarded his cigarette forcefully into the trash, swiftly gathered her scattered garments, and, seizing her by her hair, propelled her unceremoniously into the bathroom.
"Dress yourself and vacate my residence without delay."
He closed the door abruptly. Laying on his bed, he could hear her tears, yet he had no inclination to truly care.
A meeting with Jimin consumed his thoughts entirely.
A few minutes passed, and she emerged, finding Jungkook still engrossed in his phone, puffing away on his cigarette. She departed, forcefully closing the door behind her, the resounding sound echoing through the house.
........
Anxious,
scared, and overwhelmed by regret, he stood before the door.
He wasn't prepared; in fact, he was somewhat terrified.
Yet, buried deep within the recesses of his heart, a tiny glimmer of excitement flickered.
He rapped against the door, a series of knocks varying in tempo-swift, slow, and then rapid-resonated against the unyielding surface.
In what felt like an eternity, but was likely no more than a minute, the door began to creak open.
Jimin appeared, clad in black shorts, a grey shirt, and a denim jacket to ward off the chill in the air.
He examined everything except the visage of the person standing before him.
A gentle yet chilly breeze swept by, intensifying the shivers that coursed through the apprehensive young man confronting Jungkook.
What are we going to do?
What are we going to do?
What are w-
His thoughts trailed off abruptly, silenced by a harsh, frigid voice.
"What are you waiting for? Get in."
He stepped into the house, where a palette of predominantly black and white adorned its interior.
YOU ARE READING
Fuckable Friend || Jikook & Vmin
Fanfiction❝I have an idea we could be friends with benefits❞ . . . . ❝You mean Fuck buddies❞ . . . . Jimin and Jungkook, once rivals, succumbed to the allure of a sexual relationship, a dangerous path paved with the denial of their true feelings. In the w...
