inseparable︱𝐉𝐉𝐊 ✓

❥ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

꧁‿︵‿︵♥‿︵‿︵꧂

LJ - 17

The kiss was still burning on my lips as we left the abandoned train. 

Night had fallen, and we both knew we couldn't stay any longer. Despite Jungkook's protests, I made him drive us back home, and strangely, even after everything we just did, neither of us could say a word on the way.

My gut churned with fear when I saw the house getting closer. I knew my parents would be waiting, ready to lecture me for taking off, and sure enough, as soon as we stepped inside, Mom practically pounced on me.

"Jieun, where on earth have you been?" she demanded. "We were worried sick! You can't just disappear like that."

Dad stood beside her. "You need to tell us if you're going somewhere. What were you thinking?"

Everyone looked so worried, but I was too lost in my own problems to fully engage. I saw Jungkook excusing himself to his room, making my heart twist. Before I could do the same, Mom's tone softened, and she reached out her hand.

"Look, honey," she said gently, catching my gaze with a sincere look. "About earlier... the talk about your biological parents. We want you to know that you don't need to meet them if you're not ready. This is your decision, and we'll support whatever you choose."

"Yes, your mother and I just thought it was something you should consider as an option. But we're here for you, no matter what."

I could barely focus on their words. I wasn't thinking about my biological parents or their concerns anymore. All I could think about was what had happened in the train car.

"Jieun, are you listening?" Mom's voice snapped me back to the present.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I muttered, brushing past them. "I just needed some air—everything's fine."

Mom frowned, looking like she wanted to say more, but I didn't give her the chance. I headed straight for my room, closing the door behind me.

I collapsed onto my bed as soon as I got inside, thoughts running wild. How had things gotten so difficult? I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't deny how much I was attracted to him, no matter how hard I tried.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. The feelings I had were so illogical. I had always seen Jungkook as my brother, and now... there was nothing brotherly about him anymore.

Laying there, I realized just how much I wanted him. It scared me to the point I was even considering running away. That kiss was definitely something else.

I wanted more.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I needed to talk to Jungkook about it... just I had no idea how to even start. He was right, after all. There was no point in pretending anymore. I was a good actress but not that good.

The next day was strangely calm, almost unsettlingly so. I spent hours in my room, skipping breakfast and only coming out a few times to the kitchen. Every time I heard a noise in the hallway, my heart skipped, thinking it might be Jungkook. But he was nowhere to be seen, and part of me was relieved. After last night, I wasn't sure I could trust myself around him.

Mom eventually told me to get ready for dinner later that evening, and I knew I couldn't tell her no. I decided to take a shower and pushed the bathroom door open, not really thinking of knocking.

That's when I saw him—my brother standing in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped low around his waist. His hair was wet, droplets trailing down his torso, glistening on his skin. He must have just finished his shower and, judging by his surprised look, hadn't expected anyone to walk in.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, the sight stalled any coherent thought in my brain. "Oh," I stammered, my face heating up instantly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were here—"

I was already halfway out when, in a quick action that took me by complete surprise, Jungkook stepped forward, closed the distance, and pulled me inside. He shut the door with a soft click, trapping me against it with his body. His gaze was fierce, almost feverishly intense, as he immediately leaned down to kiss me. 

"Wait, Jungkook—" I turned my head away, my heart already pounding. The air had become laden. He wasn't actually hurting me, but he had a tight grip on my waist.

"I can't stop thinking about last night," he whispered too near, his body pressed against me, fused with squelching heat. 

"Our parents are home—"

"So?" he groaned impatiently. "I miss you."

I shook my head, fighting to focus and thinking of something to put some sense into his head, but his closeness was too much. Gosh, I was missing him too. So damn much.

His hand moved from my arm to my face, gently brushing a lock of hair from my eyes. The touch was light, but electric enough to send a jolt through me again. 

"I'm trying," he muttered, his warm breath fanning on my skin, "I'm trying to keep my distance. I've tried all day not to come into your room... but... you're not making it easy for me."

I swallowed hard, my mind a maelstrom of longing. Before I could even entertain how to react, he leaned into me suddenly, pressing his lips against mine. Anything but gentle, anything but tentative, it was the same raw heat from the previous ones.

I'd spent the whole day avoiding him too, trying to rid myself of this attraction. Sleeping the night before, knowing he was just in the other room right next to mine, was absolute torture. But now, standing before him in that instant, all my resolve crumbled.

Firm, sure, his lips claimed mine, insistent, searing, in their pressure. It made me pant, and in that moment, taking immediate advantage of the opportunity, he kissed me even more deeply with urgency-possessive, his fingers were in my hair, gripping it just tight enough that he could guide me how he wanted.

I was melting into him slowly but surely, and all the thoughts of the aftermath and shades of gray dissolved away in the intense warmth of that one moment that we shared. 

My hands instinctively went to his shoulders, leaving their awkward position on my sides, and drew him closer to me. I could feel every single muscle in his body pressing, and the sensation was nothing short of exhilarating.

The kiss between us went on and on, filled with intensely rooted craving neither of us spoke and desperate thirst in the air. As we finally pulled away from each other, we were both breathing hard, our faces bright red. 

Jungkook's eyes searched mine, looking for an objection, a sign to stop, but part of me—the part that had been silently screaming in need—wanted him to keep going, yet the strongest desire remained imprisoned inside.

"We don't have to talk about it," he murmured, his voice a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through the room. His other hand settled on my waist. 

I nodded, thinking it was the wisest decision at that moment. We stood there in silence, our breaths entwining together in the closeness of that space. His eyes remained fastened on me, his stare intense and piercing, as if he were trying to unravel every emotion running through me.

"You should get dressed," I said weakly, my eyes lowered, not trusting myself to look at him. 

Jungkook's fingers lingered on my waist for a heartbeat longer before he withdrew, letting go with a reluctance that made my heart ache. "Right," he said, and I could see his internal battle.

I stepped aside, giving him space to open the bathroom door. He looked over his shoulder, but I had already turned away, waiting for him to leave, which he did seconds later. 

I was left alone, composing myself while holding the sink edges. My eyes lifted to the mirror, and all I could feel was... shame.