Enthralled || Liskook

Chapter 33

Jungkook was thinking, if it’s this moment he was still a teenage boy. He would definitely take her to bed, strip all her clothes, and devour her body that he longed for. 

No matter what games he plays, he has already reached the summit, he's the king of the field, and this little fruit beside him will be his. 

Lisa bit her lower lip, restrained and uncertain. She didn't understand her own actions, and they caused him pain. Jungkook looked at her gently and arranged her clothes. 

"It's pouring outside," he said. "Stay inside. I'll be back soon." 

Lisa nodded. Her fingers reached out, tracing the contours of his face - his chin, the bridge of his nose. 

Finally, her hand cupped his neck, brushing against the newly trimmed hair. It was short, especially at the back, leaving a ticklish sensation against her palm. 

The feeling was both... intense and unsettling. 

Jungkook's heart stuttered at her touch, a tremor that belied his nonchalant search for a better restaurant. 

He glanced at her, his voice rough with unspoken questions, "What's on your mind?" 

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Her mind pulsed with conflicting emotions, both a hollow emptiness and a dizzying fullness. This was uncharted territory, an intimacy reserved only for him, the first man to breach her walls. 

A fleeting image of Kim Yerim flickered across her mind, and she blurted out, her voice tight, "Yerim's pretty, isn't she?" 

Jungkook's brow furrowed, the gears in his mind grinding to catch up. "Yerim?” he echoed, his voice devoid of the usual warmth. "Why bring her up?" 

Her cheeks flushed, a traitor betraying her masked indifference. "I don't know," she mumbled, looking away. "Maybe... maybe it makes me jealous." 

He watched her, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes. 

Perhaps, he mused, even the most carefree hearts could become possessive under the cloak of affection. 

He gently pulled her hand away from her neck, holding it as he tried to find the right words. Yerim was truly a separate story, and he felt unsure how to address the situation. With a bittersweet smile, he squeezed her hand, saying, "I need to go." 

Internally, he wrestled with a complex mix of emotions. While seeing her jealousy could be seen as a way to strengthen their connection, it also felt wrong to manipulate her feelings, especially knowing their relationship was temporary. He understood it wouldn't last, making the possessiveness he felt all the more difficult to manage. 

Alone in the bathroom, Jungkook washed her hands and face with a bar of soap. Compared to the more thorough cleansing she did after competition, this felt quick and incomplete. 

The light makeup felt heavy and restrictive, a necessary evil for the event's aesthetic requirements. Feeling a slight discomfort with her undergarments, she wiped her hands, adjusted them briefly, then checked her reflection. The faint redness on her neckline was fading slightly. 

Her face glowed softly, a shimmer of unshed tears welling up in her eyes as she stood distracted by the poolside. Her fingers unconsciously twirled a loose thread on the white towel, the motion betraying her internal turmoil.

Recalling how his face flushed red at her comment, she dropped the towel and entered the empty room. 

A large, single-strapped sports backpack lay abandoned on the rug by the sofa. It seemed like a constant companion, the only backpack present since the night she first met Jungkook. It had followed him from city to city, a silent witness to his journey.