"I'm done," she said, her voice steady, though her heart raced. She moved toward the sink to start cleaning up, hoping cleaning would calm her nerves. But as she busied herself with the dishes, she felt Jimin's eyes on her—his gaze sharp, intense, and unwavering.
After a moment, she heard him stand, the soft creak of the couch as he settled into it. She didn't turn around, though she could feel him watching her. But then, the sound of a drawer opening and closing caught her attention. She ignored it.
"Muffin..." His voice was soft, yet somehow commanding. She froze.
She turned back toward him, confused and a little nervous. "What?" she asked, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Jimin didn't respond immediately. Instead, he held up the book, and her eyes widened as she saw the familiar cover. The faded pages, the worn edges... it was her old diary.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a cold chill run down her spine. The memories of her teenage years, of secrets she had with Jimin, rushed back at once.
"Does this look familiar to you?" Jimin asked, his voice low and calm, but there was something dark in it, something that made her blood run cold.
YN's chest tightened as she stared at the diary in Jimin's hands. Her breath caught in her throat, panic rising within her. She couldn't let him read this. It was too personal, too vulnerable.
Without thinking, she ran to him, desperation overtaking her. "Give it to me!" she pleaded, her fingers brushing against the edge of the book.
But Jimin, ever the tease, pulled the diary just out of her reach. His hands tightened around it as he smirked up at her. The heat of his breath on her skin only intensified the rush of emotions coursing through her. The proximity of him, the weight of his gaze, made it nearly impossible to think.
"Let me read it, Muffin," he said, his voice low and amused, his lips curling into a playful smile. "It's been a while since I've read this."
"Jimin, please," she whispered, her voice betraying her unease. Her cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and vulnerability. "It's private."
His grip on the book didn't waver. Instead, he drew her even closer, her body now pressed tightly against his. She could feel the heat from his chest, smell the familiar scent of him. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and it made it harder to focus on anything but him. His lips brushed lightly against her hair, sending a shiver down her spine.
YN's hands instinctively rested against his chest, the warmth of his body radiating through her. Her heart raced in her chest, and for a moment, she could hear nothing but the rush of blood in her ears. The presence of him was suffocating, but at the same time, it was exhilarating. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to escape this unrelenting closeness, but she couldn't move. She was trapped in the moment, trapped in him.
(YN's POV) I need to distract him... The idea sparked in her mind, and with a surge of boldness, she pushed past her hesitation.
"I want my third kiss," she said suddenly, her voice soft yet firm. She raised her eyes to his, the challenge in her gaze unmistakable.
Jimin froze, his eyes narrowing as he registered her words. (Jimin Pov: You want to distract me, don't you?) A smirk slowly formed on his lips, and he gave a small chuckle.
"Okay," he said simply, as if he was intrigued by her boldness.
YN was momentarily confused by his quick acceptance, but then she saw him place the diary slightly to the side, giving her a brief opening. She was almost relieved—he was giving her the chance.
"I'm ready, Muffin," he said, his voice low and thick with intention.
YN stiffened, realizing that what she was about to do could go much further than she had intended. But she had made the decision. She had to take the chance.
Leaning in, she kissed him softly on his neck, planting a lingering kiss just below his ear, carefully leaving a mark—a hickey. As she did, she slid her hand toward the diary, her fingers curling around the edges of it.
Jimin's breath hitched, and she could feel his pulse quicken beneath her lips. His hands gripped tightly onto his knees, as though he was fighting the urge to pull her closer, to kiss her back. His restraint only made her more determined.
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