"Under the skin"//jjk

Chapter 7-

"YN's POV"

The harsh morning light peaked through the curtains, throwing a blinding glare across the hotel room. I woke up, my head pounding with a relentless ache that felt like a marching band playing just behind my eyes. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented and struggling to grasp my surroundings.

As the haze of sleep began to fade, the reality hit me like a tidal wave: I was in a hotel room. Alone. Panic surged through me as I tried to piece together how I got here. Memories of the office party flooded back, and my heart raced as I recalled the laughter, the drinks, and the way Jungkook had looked at me with a mix of desire and something darker.

I remembered the passionate kiss we had shared, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the intoxicating way he had touched me. In that moment, everything felt electric, awakening something deep within me that I hadn't realized was there. Yet, with those memories came a rush of shame, overwhelming me like a cold tide. I had crossed a line I never thought I would—spending a night with my boss, tangled in emotions I had fought to suppress.

Amid the passion, there had been an undercurrent of resentment—a tension that had been building for weeks. Jungkook's critiques of my work had cut deeper than I had shown, each remark striking like a dagger. His glares, filled with disappointment and frustration, had stung, leaving me feeling small. I could still picture the way he had looked at me across the conference table, his gaze a mix of disdain and expectation, the weight of his silence speaking volumes.

But then, fueled by alcohol and unspoken desires, we had crossed that line. The thrill of our connection had taken over, and in that heated moment, the anger and resentment had melted away, replaced by overwhelming passion. I could still feel the heat of his body against mine, the way he had held me possessively, making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.

As I lay there, I remembered drifting off to sleep, but the details of what happened afterward were a blur. I had no recollection of how the night had truly ended, only a lingering sense of warmth and confusion. A wave of nausea washed over me as I thought of Max. What had I done? I couldn't believe I had spent the night with Jungkook, blurring the lines of professionalism and personal feelings.

Swinging my legs over the bed, the coolness of the floor contrasted sharply with the heat on my cheeks. Every part of me ached, as if I had fought a fierce battle. I stumbled into the bathroom, my heart racing as I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

Looking at myself, a wave of self-loathing washed over me. My hair was a tangled mess, and my eyes were puffy from sleep and distress. I splashed cold water on my face, but the mirror reflected a woman who felt utterly defeated. The hickeys on my neck seemed to mock me, reminders of my poor choices. I couldn't help but curse myself under my breath. "How could you let this happen?" I whispered, disappointment lacing my words.

Tears began to spill down my cheeks, each drop a testament to my inner turmoil. I felt lost, ashamed of what I had done. The weight of my decisions pressed heavily on my heart, and I cried silently, the sound of my sobs echoing in the empty bathroom. I had let my desires take control, and now I was left to grapple with the consequences.

Wiping my tears away, I reached for my phone, hoping for some sign from Jungkook. My heart sank when I saw the screen light up with missed calls and texts. There were calls from Max, my friend Ken, Maya, and Daisy, each notification a reminder of the chaos from the night before. Guilt washed over me, but I pushed it aside. I would deal with them later. My priority was to get in touch with Jungkook.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen as I considered texting him. Then it struck me like a cold splash of water: I didn't have his number. Frustration ignited within me. How could I have been so careless?