Silver Wings {Jungkook x Reader}

NINE

Jungkook's POV

My eyes visibly widen at her words, a sensation of shock coursing through me as she stands there with firm resolve flashing in her oddly-colored eyes. Her stature is petite, but she seems to be carved from immovable marble as she fixes a withering glare on me, strong-willed and quickly recovering from my sudden outburst of disgust.

But what was she expecting? Did she honestly think that I was going to touch her? Jungkook, you royally fucked up by forcing her to stay with you. You really messed up this time. Now, you're stuck with a crazy half-blood who thinks that you're a pervert! You did this to yourself, pabo. But I can't believe that she's seriously this stubborn in believing that she won't turn out like the others. She has a demon in her, and all demons end up the same, regardless of whether or not they willingly choose to. She's no exception.

I want to respond with a cutting insult to tone down her attitude, but I swiftly find myself transfixed on a wispy strand of her ebony hair drifting down to rest, unnoticed, between her strangely captivating eyes.

No.

I tear my gaze away, the newly-found submissive yet fiery part of her taking a toll on the cold front that I'm displaying. No. Fight it. Don't look at her. You hate her. You hate her. You hate her. You hate her.

"I really don't care whether or not you accept me," I tell her, and it's the truth. I really couldn't care less about whether or not she takes a liking to me because I personally don't like her, but I would rather her hate me back as opposed to accepting me. It would make things easier that way.

Her glowing royal blue and gold orbs flash with something unfamiliar, but it's gone before I can determine what it is. Did I actually go too far this time? No, of course I didn't. She can't be that weak, right?

"Whatever," she hisses, "I just want to go home. That's it. I just want to turn back time to when I never knew about any of this. To when I never knew of my heritage. And," her voice falters as tremor consumes her voice, "I want to go back to when my parents were still alive." Her head hangs limply so she stares aimlessly at her shoes, clearly lost in thought and drowning in her sorrows.

"Well, I'm sorry, but things don't work that way." I answer unsympathetically. I flinch inwardly as her head snaps up and her eyes burn with rage. Maybe I crossed the line with that one. But I'll never admit it aloud.

"How can you be so heartless?" (Y/N) demands. "How can you just sit there and not feel anything when someone's parents were just murdered? Were you always this unsympathetic and uncaring?"

I'm taken aback at her sudden, persistent questions. Her voice is raw with grief and dripping with sorrow, so I can tell that she's serious about this. I've been a demon since birth, and we aren't exactly known for our sympathetic nature and compassion. I still don't really care about her and her ruined life, but plainly because I just don't care about women altogether.

"Yes," I growl, my voice laced with venom as I return a spiteful glare to her. "Can you keep your issues to yourself? I really don't need this." With that, I disengage from the heated conversation and make a beeline straight for my closed bedroom door.

"You're unbelievable."

I barely catch her broken whisper as it drifts softly to my ears, sending a strange feeling lancing through my soul. I don't halt my movements, however, promptly opening the door and quickly exiting the room. I need to get away from her.

It's true, I really don't need this kind of weight on my shoulders, especially when I'm going to have to live with her. I don't know what I was expecting when I decided to force her to move in with me, but it was definitely a mistake.