"I don't share," he growled right into my ear, his heavy breath hitting the base of my throat.
"I'm not yours." I hissed back.
He stepped closer, a smirk appearing on his face like all he was feeling at this moment was amusement. My patience was thi...
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Reva
Jungkook and I headed to an unexpected part of the city. The streets were teeming with people basking in the sunny weather, having brunch, and enjoying various activities with their friends in the last summer days. My attempts to inquire about our destination were met with Jungkook's mysterious assurance that we would arrive soon.
I refrained from commenting on his unusual silence or the tight grip he had on the steering wheel as soft music filled the car. Something about his demeanor made me feel nervous. Jungkook was not the type to fidget or show such visible signs of discomfort. It made me uncomfortable as well because I had always admired his ability to say or do things with such confidence.
Unaware that I would be driving somewhere with him just a few hours ago, I had woken up to him lying next to me.
As I slowly drifted into consciousness on a quiet Sunday morning, the first thing I was struck by was the familiar warmth beside me. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, my eyes focused on him, peacefully lost in dreams. It had been weeks since we first shared a bed, yet waking to his presence still felt like a new thing.
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on his features. His messy hair, boyishly falling across his forehead, created a charming mess that I couldn't help but like.
In the silence of the room, I took a moment to observe the tiny details that made him uniquely him - the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, the way his lashes brushed against his cheeks, and the neutral expression that graced his face.
Sometimes, on the weekends when he hadn't rushed off to work, I'd find him already awake. His eyes, filled with a quiet contemplation, lazily tracing the patterns on the ceiling. Other times he'd be in the bathroom, lost in his morning routine.
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I watched him smack his lips just seconds before waking up, a habitual gesture he seemed completely unaware of. I could simply watch the nuances of his existence.
"Good morning," he greeted in a deep, sleepy voice, stretching his limbs as he slowly awoke.
"Morning," I replied with a murmur, sharing the cozy feeling of the bed. He glanced at the clock, suddenly realizing how long he had slept.
His expression changed and he muttered under his breath. "I must have overslept my alarm."
Surprised, I realized that I hadn't heard an alarm either. "Are you late for something?" I asked as he grabbed a shirt and started to put it on.
"I'm flying to LA tomorrow morning, remember?" He asked and I remembered that he had told me that a few days ago. "I have a few things to take care of today."
