The Clandestine Us

Twenty-nine

───── ❝ Jungkook's POV ❞ ─────

Half-asleep, I could feel myself lying on my stomach. Instinctively, I reached out to the spot beside me—where Jennie had been when we fell asleep.

My hand met nothing but cold sheets.

My eyes snapped open. I sat up in bed, now fully awake, heart pounding. The space beside me was empty. No warmth, just traces of her.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Reaching over to the side cabinet, I grabbed my phone, hoping for a message or even a missed call.

Nothing. No text from her.

I leaned back against the headboard, still shirtless and only in my pajama pants. I pulled the blanket over my lap and exhaled slowly. My mind immediately began piecing together the last moments before sleep took over—right after we'd had a little too much fun in the bathroom.

━ Flashback ━

I catch her sinking into the bean bag, this time wrapped tightly in a towel. Her skin still glistened slightly from the bath, and her damp hair draped over her shoulders like silk. She looked so effortlessly beautiful—eyes heavy, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed from the warmth and maybe from the alcohol still lingering in her system.

"Can't sleep with wet hair," Jennie said, catching the way I was watching her.

"I've got a hair dryer here. I'll do it for you," I offered, giving her a small, sincere smile.

"I'd love that. Thank you in advance," she said softly, her eyes fluttering closed, already surrendering to the comfort of the moment.

I got up and found the dryer where I usually keep it. Plugging it in, I knelt beside her. The gentle hum of warm air filled the room as I started drying her hair, threading my fingers through the soft strands, careful not to tug. She lay back on the bean bag, completely relaxed, as if the sound didn't bother her one bit.

She looked like she could fall asleep right there—barely dressed, skin still glowing, lips parted, hair splayed across like a halo. And I... I couldn't stop staring.

My mind wandered back to the bathroom—how she sounded when I was between her thighs, how her fingers tightened in my hair as her back arched, whispering my name like a prayer and a curse all at once.

Just the memory of it sent a jolt straight through me. My towel suddenly felt too light, too loose, doing little to hide the obvious effect she had on me.

"Still drunk?" I asked, needing to distract myself as I continued combing through her hair with my fingers.

"Maybe," she mumbled, one eye cracking open. "That warm bath helped a lot."

That bath... I suddenly remember the way her body pressed against mine beneath the water, the slippery heat between us. The subtle shift of her hips. Her soft moans. The way she let herself fall apart in my hands—and on my tongue.

I cleared my throat, trying to silence the ache growing inside me. But the more I tried to forget, the harder it got to ignore. I shifted slightly, adjusting the towel around my waist, hoping she wouldn't notice the tension.

Honestly, I needed another shower—cold, this time. Jennie made me feel like the most wound-up man alive.

"I think my hair's crispy now," she teased, wearing that smug, playful smile that always drove me insane.

I cleared my throat again—reflex this time, like my body trying to regulate itself.

"It's all dry. I'll get you something to wear," I said quickly, standing before I completely lost it.