Whiplash | jjk.

[40]: Enjoy It

Light.

Jungkook's room lets in morning light.

You know that only because the blinds are cracked and the sun is perfectly catching his hair, bringing up licks of brown that you hadn't noticed amongst the jet-black. The warm welcoming of the sun creates an aura of softness around his head. His sleeping face is completely unaware of how stunning he looks.

You stare at him for a long time.

You're thinking.

Deeper than you ever had, about the man in front of you. You'd always written his character off as an ignorant asshole, and hadn't spent much time pondering on why he was the way he was. You'd never asked. You'd never even wondered. He was a write-off, in your eyes.

Until now.

Until the cracks in his facade are starting to show, and you can see the light shining through.

You almost can't believe this is really the same man that had tormented you for all those months. The man that had beat you, teased you, and made your weakness into a public spectacle for others to bully?

Jungkook. The bully.

Jungkook.

Who the fuck was he now?

He had always been the worst person you'd ever known, and was quickly turning into one of the very best. You could feel yourself growing to feel way too familiar with him, an each of his greatly contrasting opposites.

But, which one was really him?

There was no way he could be both.

Especially after what happened yesterday. The ways in which he was there for you. At the first sign of danger, a switch flicked in him. He handled you with so much nurturing care, he was gentle with you, and patient. He listened to your needs, and he bit his tongue to allow you to grieve the night in peace. He was there for you in every way that you needed.

He came for you. He called help for you. He did the talking for you. He offered you a safe place to stay, giving you a hot shower and clean clothes to sleep in.

Late at night, he cuddled you.

You don't even want to admit how much having his arms around you helped. He carried you through the terrifying night with his warm embrace, and nothing else. It was so fickle, yet, so important. You needed someone, and it happened to be him.

For the first time in your life, somebody else made you feel safe.

And it was the same boy that had almost driven you to insanity just last year? The whole thing was too much to comprehend. The nature of change was rocking your boat and you almost wanted it to capsize, if it would just stop this mindfuck.

Your brain is all sorts of madness, and you don't know where to begin making sense of it.

So, you touch his nose.

Your pointer finger very gently pokes the tip of his nose, and it slides up the bridge. Your eyes follow the curve of your finger as it leads the way.

Your faces are very close together. His arms are still around your back.

You like how close you are.

But you don't know why.

You lightly stroke up between his eyebrows, and then over the top of them. You trace the outline of his face, just with one finger. You touch every bit of it that calls your name. You trace around his forehead, past his eyebrow piercing, over one of his cheeks, back down the slope of his nose, and then over his lips.