Guns & Tangerine || MYG 🔞

Chapter 13

Park Gyul's Point of View

My head had its own heartbeat, and I found myself unable to move a single limb because it felt like it could aggravate the excruciating pain in my head. I had to grunt and groan occasionally, massaging my temples until it had subsided enough to finally make me capable of moving.

"I am never drinking like this again," I told myself. I knew I was a light drinker, but something about drinking calmly with Yoongi last night made me get carried away and drink more than I knew I could. However, despite getting drunk, most of the things that had happened last night were still clear in my head, and that included the kiss that we shared.

I couldn't help but touch my lips and remember the way his pair of rosy and soft once caressed against mine. I bit my lip, pulled my hand away, and closed my eyes as if that would help me to forget what happened.

But it didn't.

I looked over the side table and found a glass of water, a tablet, and a note I immediately reached for.

"Drink me," I read, and so I drank the pain reliever and went back to bed until the medicine had taken effect and the pounding pain had completely subsided.

My stomach grumbled, crying for food, but I attempted to ignore it.

I wasn't ready to face Yoongi after our kiss.

But my stomach was stubborn, grumbling louder, which gave me no choice but to stand up and go to the dining room where breakfast was ready.

"Oh, what perfect timing," I grumble, seeing Yoongi peacefully having breakfast with his messy black hair and a white top that hugged his frame deliciously, showcasing his broad shoulders and proud chest.

Of course, today was the day he had to look that way.

"Did you drink the pain reliever I gave you? How are you feeling?" He asked as I entered the dining room, observing me.

I cleared my throat, avoiding his eyes. "Better." I had no choice but to sit in front of him because the food was there. "Thank you."

Silence surrounded us, and only the utensils we used to eat created sounds until he decided to break it.

"I'm sorry for kissing you last night." I almost spat my food out.

Still, I acted nonchalantly and nodded, and there was silence again.

"Why did you do it?" I asked, looking down at my plate, which was already half eaten.

"Because you asked me."

"That's really it?" I asked, looking at him, and I didn't understand why I hoped there was something more.

"Mmm-hmmm," he hummed, sipping his black coffee with his eyes fixated on me. "And because of the alcohol, I guess." He placed his cup down. "Nothing more."

I nodded. "Hmmm, yeah. Uh, okay." I looked away and made drinking water seem like an excuse for that, but I didn't want him to see that somehow, I was hurt.

What did I expect? Why was I even expecting something? Why am I suddenly hoping for something when I don't have feelings for him?

Do I?

Okay, maybe I did have a little crush on him back then, but that was before I got here!

"Was that your first kiss?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter," I answered.

"I'm sure it does." He sighed, standing up and going beside me. He crouched down, hands on the backrest of my seat and the table. "I should've known better. You deserve to get that when you're fully conscious."