MERCENARY 3: Descent into Madness |BTS JIMIN FF|

81 (+18)

'I swear you are doing this on purpose.'

He showered with his doors cracked open again. I heard the water almost as clearly as if it was running in the room next to our bed. The scent of vanilla and raspberry came with the bathroom steam and enveloped the room as he walked out. In a towel. And nothing else.

'I am.' He stated with a smirk, raising both arms to push back his out of his face as he made his way to the dresser, muscles coiling in the process

I grumbled under my breath about him driving me mad, and sunk deeper into my pillow. I purposely wouldn't look at him, instead focusing on the oh so interesting ceiling above me. Or it was. Until his towel flopped over my face.

The damp, soft fabric smelled of him. Of his own scent which I swear I could find even if I was blind and deaf. Even if he uses my shower gel, he still smells like... him.

I didn't want to move the towel, because I knew where my eyes would go. But I was suffocating under the wet cloth, and I had to. So, I pulled it off my face and kept my eyes closed.

I heard him chuckle softly, and then his footsteps as his feet almost too quietly made their way closer over the fluffy carpet. I also kept my eyes closed as the matress dented under his weight where he sat next to me, and took my hand.

'Do I have to wear pyjamas or am I okay to sleep as I always have?'

'I'm sleeping.' I muttered and turned my back to him, trying to shut out my thoughts of his naked body

He laughed quietly, and by the way it sounded half-muffled, I think he put his hand over his mouth, and the thought of him laughing made me smile, but I hid my face.

The matress under me moved again as he got up, then the entire weight shifted as he slipped in the bed next to me.

I opened my eyes instantly, against my own decision, and wished I never closed them in the first place.

He always had a body that was nothing short of art. Something to admire and swoon over. Something you're burning to touch and feel under your fingertips. But the way he is now, whatever he did to himself in those months I was gone, I don't even know where the lust begins and where it ends. It's like my hands are burning, literally burning, yearning to touch him.

'You can, you know. Just because I'm holding back, it never meant you had to. On the contrary, I wish you would let go.'

Like he could read my damn mind, his words responded to all of the thoughts I had in my head. With how well he knows me, I wouldn't be surprised if he could read my mind. Maybe it's the way our souls are tied so tightly.

He slipped closer to me, all the way until he was almost on my pillow, and propped his head up on his palm. Laying mostly on his side, his entire body sprawling before me in all its naked glory.

'Touch me. Please.' 

The pure plead in his voice was what pushed me over that line which I set up. A line that doesn't need to he there. Careful of my own heart, I placed my hand on his chest, feeling him breathe out a long breath.

I tried not to look at him, but I felt his eyes on my face. Felt him watching me as I traced his chest with my hand. My palm glided over his warm skin, tracing his tattoo like I've done so many times before. I traced from head of the snake to its tail, all the way as it wraps around the dagger, then leaned in to press a kiss to the spot.

He breathed out sharply, and I dared even less to look at his face. I haven't touched him like this. Haven't kissed a single spot aside from his lips. Not until now. But I will.