Mr. Pride and I | jjk x llm

10

-Lisa-

A few days had passed since that little drama at the canteen happened, two, maybe. Neither Jennie, Jisoo, nor Rosé said anything about it, so I, too, kept quiet. Who was I to speak of such a problem I don't even know about?

It was already Friday.Everyone in the class seemed to be engaging into a deep conversation, but not Jennie. She was writing on that very same notebook she had been writing on, making me tilt my head in curiosity.

What was she writing?

I asked myself, but eventually, shrugged it off, remembering it was none of my business. I looked over to my side, seeing Jungkook writing something on a piece of paper himself. His eyes were glued onto the paper, his hands were scribbling words I found hard to read because of the small distance between us, although small, it was enough to not let me see what he was writing.

He looked so determined to finish whatever letter he was writing. So serious, his eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes were twinkling as if they were stars. I looked down at his hands, a few small veins of his were slightly showing, maybe because of the pressure he added on the pencil.

Without realizing it, I once again got lost in Jungkook's little world, this time, because of his hands, strangely. I don't know what was it about his features that draws me into him, how I found it worth wasting time and looking at. He was just another human being, well, a human being I—not only me, but a lot of people found attractive.

"Can't get enough of me, huh? Seriously, when will you stop staring at me?"

Jungkook's voice ringed into my ears, making me snap back from reality. Jungkook's full attention was now on me, something I didn't really quite enjoy.

"I was just curious, again," I said, mumbling the word 'again,' looking away.

"I should be a really interesting topic for your little mind, huh?" He replied, a playful smirk attached on his face.

This time, I looked at him, quite amused.

I chuckled slightly, not knowing why. "No, just wondering what you're writing."

"You insult me," he said, but obviously, not hurt, bringing his hand up to touh his chest, clutching it as if he was hit by a bullet.

"Oh, how so?" I asked, smiling playfully, too.

I didn't know how, but suddenly, all my worries about making everything feel so awkward, slowly withered away. It felt like we didn't just meet a few days ago. It seemed like talking to him was like nothing. There was no swirling of stomach, no avoiding of eye contact, and most especially, I wasn't stuttering. Even I, myself, surprised me. The sensation from the first day of school was pushed to the deepest part of my brain, almost forgottened at the moment.

"Why are you so curious about what I do, but not me?" He asked, sounding a little confused, a little.

"Is anything wrong with that?" I asked, holding back a small chuckle threatening to leave my lips.

"No, it's just...odd. Usually, girls talk about how I look so handsome, how my body is so well-built—"

My smile dropped.

How can he be this full of himself?

I understand, he sees nothing wrong in him, but being arrogant about it doesn't sound right. I've seen videos online about people being like this, and I hated their guts for that, but seeing this actually taking place before my eyes is another story.