The Seventh Floor - JJK [✓]

TWENTY

As Yn looked at herself, she realized she was almost exposed in scruffy clothes. Her gaze shifted back to him. "Don't you have any women's clothing? I mean, something your wife owns?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckled a bit. "I suppose you're not keen on sharing, especially with women. I saw that earlier," he grinned, puffing out some smoke.

Taking the final drag, he crushed the cigarette into the clear glass ashtray and walked towards his room, grabbing his white shirt and slacks. He strolled back to her as she was examining his place, seeing the vibrant paintings and antique collections.

"Ms Chang..?"

She hummed in response as he gave clothes to her, showing another room.

Yn entered the room and meticulously inspected every corner, checking drawers, cupboards, fans, lights, and the bathroom, looking for hidden cameras or microphones.

Jimin knocked on the door, noticing her thorough inspection with the door slightly ajar.

"Don't worry, Ms. Chang. I'm not as cheap as HIMM. There are no hidden devices in this room," he assured from outside, laughing, before closing her door properly.

"Ahh this street vendor surely knows Jungkook well."

Taking a shower, she got changed into his clothes and came out of the room. He was almost done with quick midnight spaghetti and was filling bowls.

He looked at her and stunned for moments, feeling a fluttering sensation inside his stomach seeing her in his clothes. Having an instinctive urge to touch her but refrained as he gestured to her to sit.

Strolling towards him, she remarked, "I have an appetite, but I'm not in the mood to eat." This made him grin.

"Alright, just let me know how it tastes," he offered, handing her a bowl as she settled onto a barstool in the kitchen. Finishing her full bowl in four minutes where he finished his half filled.

"I need energy to plan something so I finished and umm..you need to work more on your cooking." She looked away.

He chuckled, took both of their dishes, and once he had finished washing them, which left her slightly amazed to see him doing the dishes himself.

Jimin retrieved something from a top cabinet and returned to her. "Come with me," he said, and she followed him to the living room. Sitting on the couch, Yn watched as he knelt before her and gently touched her foot. Startled, she pulled back quickly.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she asked, puzzled.

"Let me take a look, stay still for a minute," he held again as she did and he plastered band-aids on her plantar surface but she was not bothered by those minor cuts and scrapes on her feet.

Feeling a bit of awkwardness in the air, she decided to strike up a casual conversation. "Do you usually do the dishes and cook?" she asked.

"No! It's just we are alone right now and I have done all kinds of work. I do when it's the time or when it's necessary," he emphasized the latter remark and they both stood up, as he was done with plastering.

"Thanks," she mumbled, walking past him toward her room. However, she abruptly stopped in her tracks, sniffing the air. She turned back to him, catching him taking another puff of a cigarette.

"Hey, don't smoke. It's bad for your pretty lungs," she sighed nonchalantly and then walked into her room.

"I won't!" Immediate, low hushed words came out of his mouth. Unconsciously, he crushed the cigarette with the pad of his thumb and index finger "fuckkk" he cussed and grabbing remaining boxes, he threw them all in the bin with a spaced out zone.