Long Way To Love (Jungkook ff)

Chapter 35

Ignore mistakes, please

Third person p.o.v-

Hey everyone, sorry for the delay! This chapter was supposed to be out much earlier, but things didn't go as planned. I'm burning up with a fever and literally wrote this while lying in bed. Please forgive your poor author for being late and also for any mistakes in this chapter-I wasn't feeling well enough to proofread.

Fury and humiliation churned within you as you dragged Jungkook by the arm to the rooftop of the restaurant, an oasis of opulence that dripped luxury from every corner. The air was thick with the scent of fine cuisine and expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the tempest swirling inside you. He trailed behind, characteristically quiet and smiling, like a whipped person.

Once you reached the rooftop, a vast expanse framed by twinkling city lights, he cleared his throat, causing you to flinch.

"Maybe you could let go of my hand?" he suggested, a mocking smile curling his lips. "Though, I wouldn't mind if you kept walking while holding it."

Your pulse quickened, embarrassment flooding you as you realized your fingers were still wrapped around his hand. With a sharp breath, you tore your hand away, the contact leaving a trace of warmth that only made you more unsettled.

"Dammit, old habits really die hard. I ended up doing what I used to with this bastard when we were kids," you cursed silently, a bitter edge creeping into your thoughts. Memories flooded back to a time when you were children, innocently holding hands as you roamed carefree.

"What the hell is wrong with you, jerk?" you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut through the air. "Aren't you even the slightest bit embarrassed? We were in public-what if someone saw us like that?"

Jungkook studied you for a moment, his gaze sharp and unreadable before he released a low sigh. "That would've been far better then."

Confused, you furrowed your brows. "What are you talking about?"

Jungkook's hands slid into his pockets, a subtle gesture loaded with authority as he leaned back against the railing, every inch of him radiating a dark, simmering confidence. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the sinewy muscle along his forearms, veins stretching beneath his inked skin like a map of untold secrets.

The black shirt with two undone top buttons clung to his frame, tracing the powerful contours of his chest and shoulders, molding to every sculpted muscle beneath, and the veins tracing along his forearms and neck only added to his dangerously magnetic presence. His long, dark locks falling on his forehead.

His eyes locked on you with an intensity that felt almost inescapable. The night was cool, but under his stare, a heat pulsed, as though his presence alone had disrupted the air around you. His dark eyes were merciless, dissecting, but strangely comforting, filled with a weight of secrets that only he held.

"I already told you," he murmured, his voice a low, commanding drawl that held no room for argument. . "Stay with me. It's the only way if you want to catch that rat."

A disbelieving laugh escaped you, your eyebrows lifting as you masked your nerves with a smile. "Well, your methods are... way too weird," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady, though his gaze had a way of making your confidence waver. "And tell me, how exactly is this plan supposed to work?"

He let out a scoff, one corner of his mouth tugging into a dangerous smirk, his gaze narrowing as he leaned closer. "You think I don't know about that fake little sister of yours and her twisted obsession with me." His voice held a sinister edge, every word dripping with calculated malice. "She's a jealous bloody witch-so much so, she couldn't stand seeing her own sister happy, not enough to let her live.''