"Beautiful....And I really want to create a mess....A beautiful mess." His lips brushed against her ear with each word, sending a shiver down her spine.
His words caught her off guard, causing her to burst into laughter. 'You want what?' she managed...
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He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. The memory of their proximity was suddenly overwhelming, his mind filled with the daydream image of her slender body pressed against his from the previous night.
She frowned. "What?" she asked, not quite catching his mumbled words. "Well... what should I wear? My shirt has nearly lost its original color, and I don't suppose you make clothes, do you?" he asked, his eyes darting around. She averted her gaze from his bare torso and swallowed hard.
"I think you should leave," she suggested, settling onto the couch and opening the first aid box. She dabbed a cotton swab with antiseptic liquid and began tending to the wound on her leg. Taehyung swiftly took the swab from her grasp and knelt before her. "I'm not going anywhere," he declared, locking eyes with her. She attempted to remove his hand and reclaim the cotton swab.
In a swift motion, Taehyung grasped her thighs and pulled her toward him, positioning himself between her legs. Startled by his abrupt action, she instinctively gripped his shoulders to steady herself. Her hair cascaded around them, their gazes locked—her icy cold, his burning with fury. She swallowed hard as their noses nearly touched, leaving no space between them.
"Stay still," he commanded, pulling back slightly. She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by his authoritative tone. "And you're going to sit quietly until I bandage this," he insisted, silencing her objections. Reluctantly, she agreed to let him stay, fearing what if they try to harm him. He continued, his focus was steady on her wound,"Your arms have stitches,...so you need to be a little careful."
He held her knee gently, his touch shivering through them both. Carefully, he pressed the cotton against her wound, and she winced, gripping the couch's edge tightly. Their eyes met, locking in a silent exchange.
He again presses the cotton bud and she moans in pain. Her moans send him a shiver down while creating a darkest desire. His thoughts get stuck while thinking how will her voice give him a remedy, tenderness while moaning his name. How will it sound, when she'll be moaning his name? Will it be the same when his hands will trace 'The map to her soul.' A wave of frustration washed over him as he closed his eyes, trying to shake away these thoughts
Her legs gleamed in the soft moonlight, drawing Taehyung's gaze. Meanwhile, her eyes roamed over his form, illuminated by the same lunar glow. She clenched the couch's edge, her nails digging into the fabric as she fought the urge to trace her fingers across his chest and down his sculpted abs. Their eyes met again, each reflecting a mutual desire that neither could deny.
Suddenly, he pressed the cotton bud too firmly, and she winced sharply, breaking their intense gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and she nodded in acknowledgment. He gently applied antiseptic cream to her knee, but her attention shifted to his shoulder. There, she noticed scratches marked with dried blood—wounds from her grip.
Tentatively, she reached out to his shoulder. "I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she stammered, her eyes shifting between his face and the injury. "It's okay; it's nothing," Taehyung reassured her with a dismissive wave. "No, let me apply some antiseptic; it might get infected," she insisted, reaching for a fresh cotton bud and antiseptic liquid. She was about to dab it on his shoulder when he grasped her hand firmly.
