«Intentions» v.k

Chapter Thirteen: Shaded Grey.

Jungkook's POV.

I'm awake. My head feels like it's splitting in half, my eyelids feel too heavy to open, and I'm laying on something hard but nevertheless, I'm awake. I can hear soft snores close by but I'm too brain dead to pin point it. I peel open my eyes to look at the unfamiliar, white, looming ceiling. I can't help but feel it has an ominous aura. My body was too stiff to move so; I just lay there sprawled among my own early morning warmth. A sigh trickles through my lips as I continue to look distastefully at the ceiling. I obviously remember where I am, but I haven't quite processed the odd behaviour of the man who got me drunk or what we really talked about. Hell, I can't even remember his name; although I feel as if I should. I wriggle in my place a smidgin, finding my headache starting to wisp away with the steady draft sifting through the room. The pillow below me shuffled with a small gasp. I instantly sat up, clutching my head from the sudden movement, and looked down. The boy from last night was dozed out beneath me. He felt the heat and balance from my body rotate and cracked open one of his eyes to look at me. He yawned, keeping silent eye contact, before shattering the peaceful atmosphere.

"What's your least favourite colour?" He asks, voice huskily low and laced through with sleep. He yanks my smaller body closer to him, obviously missing the radiating warmth from my body. I had my legs, plastered with the jogging bottoms he had forced me to wear last night, either side of his and my butt sat comfortably atop his skinny hips. I felt something stir inside me, but I pushed it down.

"White." I admit, scrunching up my nose slightly, not bringing up why he would ask such a strange question first thing I'm the morning. His tired eyes bore into me questioningly. "It's boring. Like black and grey." I shrug. I feel a dull thud in my head and remind myself not to move too much. "It's nice sometimes but, I don't like it. Why do you ask?" He subtly smiles and stretches his arms outwards, across the large bed. I noticed that somehow, even with the vast wideness of the bed, I had managed to fall asleep with my body pressed up against his, evidently waking up on top of him. It was a bad habit of mine, because I sleep in a much smaller bed. 'I hope he didn't feel uncomfortable. Am I sending the wrong kind of messages? Why did he pull me onto his lap?' I quickly ask myself, feeling slightly uneasy.

"Just thinking about shades."

"Well, what are you thinking about them?" I ask, desperately stirring the conversation to anywhere but the fact I was practically dry humping him. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. His eyebrows furry together.

"Like, why is white such an appealing colour from far away, when up close it seems so dull and lifeless? Colours are meant to have emotions, like red has raging passion, yellow has undeniable happiness and blue has tranquil gloom. Why is white so... Expressionless?" He exclaims aloud, rhetorically. "It has such a fake hue that lures you in with its contrast, and when you take a better look you see nothing but a plain shade of light. How come it's the opposite to black? From far away black seems so dark and emits fearfulness, but up close you can appreciate its inner beauty. It the perfect outline, the perfect finishing touch to any piece of art. It's the starting and end colour for almost everything. It's so simple, yet brilliant how it brings other colours to life. When the world was created, everything was black. When the world inevitably ends, everything will return to its origin. It's a colour that most people overlook, leaving it so under appreciated. Yet, when you put black and white together, they form a bond. Ying and Yang. It's not as fluorescent as a rainbow perhaps, but the simplicity of the two opposite colours coming together form a bond stronger than anything. They were made for each other. One light, one dark. They balance each other out perfectly. Like soulmates." His eyes lock with mine. A spark twinkles in his eyes. I feel a vermillion blush chilling through my body and I pray that he is oblivious to it. He slides a hand into my ruffled hair as I continue to straddle him, innocently. Closing my eyes and leaning my head into his touch, I beckon him to continue his soothing actions. 'Maybe he doesn't mind the mixed up signals.' I admit to myself, thoroughly enjoying his company.

"What about when they're mixed? Grey is pretty boring too. But, I somehow I connect with it- I feel like it represents my life." I softly laugh as his large hands continue to tease and corse through my messy, brunette locks.

"Grey. Grey's so indifferent. It goes with black and white, even adventures with other colours like blonde or tangerine, but somehow it's not the same. Grey is like a thundering clusterfluff of clouds. It's like a lonely puddle outside a busy train station, left behind by the distant rain, that everyone steps in with their rusty push chairs and rubber, weathered walking boots. It's like the last sweet left at the bottom of a Halloween bucket that goes mouldy and infested, until someone dares to eat it as a joke. Grey is the epitome of being drenched in an expected storm. It's boring. No one wants to use it. It's always second best because people don't see it's true meaning. It goes with the flow, really. I feel like grey is a lonely shade. Being taken advantage and all. Having everyone step over it, and pretends to be happy when in actuality, it's far from it. It's like the middle child on the spectrum. Unappealing in looks and personality to those who look from afar. One that many would skip over when choosing their favourite." His hand freezes for a split second, but then continues its course hesitantly. "But, I rather like grey. It's intriguing. It's a challenge. I'd like to think that I could create something beautiful from grey, a new relationship with the other colours. Bring it into society; give it life. I could make it better than black and white. Black and white would be nothing in the presence of grey, because it would have the most gorgeous relationship from the two. I want to make a master piece with grey, show it the wonders of the world. I could paint something that looked unflattering to everyone around me who was too delirious and stupid to really pay attention, and I could show them how to make it beautiful. I can show everyone how grey can look and act. I'll show them how it's not as easy to step on as it first seemed. I'll show them that you deserve better than the life you live in." He concluded. My brain stopped working for a second, unable to process his deep words. 'He doesn't know anything about me... But, I feel so drawn to him.' My mind battles before going with my hearts opinion.

"I like the sound of that." I lift open my eyes and our paths were instantly locked. A smile breaks open and stretches across my sleepy face, flashing my bunny teeth brightly.

"You do?" He grins back at me, placing both of his hands on my shoulders.

I nod, fully awake now as I lean down towards his face. Our slightly damp foreheads touched as we continued to stare at each other. I could feel the ripple of his shallow breath upon my parted, dry lips. I licked them cautiously as his eyes broke from mine to follow the movements of my tongue. He licked his lips in sync with mine, before looking back up at me, as if he were asking for permission. I leaned even closer to him, my lips practically aching for his touch. We were centimetres away. A flicker of something passed behind his eyes and he seemed to stop his lustful actions. His eyebrows knitted together as if he had just realised something important. He soon, shook his head slightly as if clearing himself from whatever caused him to prevent the kiss. I felt confused as I tilted my body ever so lightly away from his.

"What's wrong?" I breathe out, heart still jogging fast with adrenalin.

"I'll tell you soon." He sighs, as if he was reassuring himself more than I. My mind was caught up in a whirl again, I was so confused with everything: my dad, this boy, why my friends were acting so strangely. 'They can't possible be connected, right?' I think the worst, paranoia overwhelming me.

He studied my face before opening his mouth to speak. "What are you thinking about?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Everything." I whimper, my thoughts finally catching up on me.