Silver Wings {Jungkook x Reader}

EIGHTEEN

Jungkook's POV

"Will you give me permission to touch your wings?"

My breath stills in my throat at the sound of her soft inquiry, time seeming to slow down as my heart thuds harshly against my ribcage. I stare at the girl before me, eyes round as I take in her awestruck eyes, soft smile, and smaller frame.

Touch my w-wings?

I swallow hard, fighting back a cold sweat that's threatening to break out. Her eyes are so genuine and warm as they trace my frozen wings, so filled with desire yet cautious and weary of my reaction.

But why does she want to touch my wings? Is she no longer afraid of me?

I shakily nod my head, unable to form any coherent words in my scattered brain. The prospect of (Y/N) touching my wings, my most sacred possession, is almost enough to push me over the edge and knot my nerves into a frazzled mess. Is she serious? There's no way.

I regard her warily as she slowly moves toward me, lifting a hand to carefully brush over my sensitive appendages with a feather-soft touch. I stiffen at her touch, feeling her hands gingerly stroke my midnight black wings. A strange feeling suddenly swirls in my stomach, an odd and inexplicable craving for her to continue to gently brush her fingertips along the feathers of my wings. Her fingers quickly fall into a soothing rhythm, lulling me into a hypnotic trance that relaxes my tensed muscles almost immediately.

But my eyes suddenly snap open alertly as the dreaded scent of marshmallow and lavender invades my nostrils, signalling that she's gradually shifting closer to me. My knees weaken as it floods my senses, the sweet yet warm scent consuming me. I feel a stab of panic as it begins to claw at my self-control, wearing down the defensive walls that I have never allowed to crumble before.

Well, this is it, Jungkook. This is the moment in which you realize that a smell has more power over you than your own mind. And-OH MY GOD, WHY IS SHE GETTING CLOSER? NO. I can't last much longer with her so close to me.

I step away from her, exhaling sharply in a vain attempt at ridding my nose of the intoxicating scent. Guilt chips briefly at my heart as her hand falls way with disappointment flashing in those beautiful eyes of hers, creating an emptiness that I longed to be filled once more.

But as long as she bears that scent, I'm not sure that she's safe around me.

"Did I hurt you?" Her eyes suddenly spark with worry.

Great, now I made her worried.

"N-No." I avert my eyes. "But why did you need to touch my wings?"

She laughs, a light, warm sound that's extremely contagious to me. "I didn't need to," (Y/N) responds, her usually sultry and silky voice rising to a slightly higher pitch that I can see right through. Nervousness is scrawled all over her features. "I just wanted to touch your wings because I don't have mine yet and I wanted to know what they would feel like."

"Not all wings are the same," I remind her, taking another step out of range as the scent begins to waft lazily around my somewhat hazy head. Stay back, (Y/N). "What color is your Seal?"

"Silver," she says absently, her eyes falling back to my gently fluttering wings. I sigh in exasperation, her urge to continue to touch my wings painfully obvious as her intricate eyes flicker longing over my feathers. But my body locks up and heat rushes through my systems as her eyes unexpectedly stray from my large appendages and skim over my body. I can practically feel sweat beading on my forehead as her scrutinizing gaze slides over the scars marring my forearms from too many terrible mistakes and brush over my facial features before locking with my eyes. I swallow hard, my Adam's apple bobbing up and down as I strain to prevent my nerves from going haywire.