You were placed in the room that had previously Yoongi's home office. At first, you felt bad, but he reassured you that he tended to prefer to use his studio at the company and hardly used the home office at all. It was an open space with clean white walls and a brick accent wall. The smell of lemon cleaner radiated off of the hickory pecan hardwood flooring.
The room was mostly empty as they wanted you to have the freedom to decorate it however you liked. The only thing they left you was the massive bed that was at the center of the room, headboard pushed up against the wall. It was big enough to put four of you on it. Millions of plush pillows were laid carefully at the head of the bead, waiting for you to sink into them. The high mattress was set on a wood frame that matched the color of the floor; the headboard was marked by intricate filigree-inspired etchings that added both elegance and liveliness. They left a basic white blanket and duvet for you and a modern gilded open floor lamp that stood in the corner of the room.
A welcoming gift, they said.
You smiled, thankful that they had been so thoughtful to provide you with these things, especially on such short notice.
Alrighty, I guess I should put my stuff away, you thought, looking around for the closet. You scratch your head. Where is the closet? You look to your left and see a sliding door.
Ah, here it is! you grin.
You push it open, gasping in shock when you're greeted by a shirtless Jungkook laid comfortably on his bed. He hears you gasp, eyes flying open immediately. "What the hell?!" he exclaims in Korean, grabbing a stray shirt off of the mess that you assumed was his dresser.
You immediately stammer, in your butchered Korean, an apology, roughly explaining that you were looking for the closet. He glared at you for a second, before letting out an exasperated groan and getting up. He walked to the door in front of you.
"Move," he says in English at your still stunned self.
You step to the side, allowing him to begrudgingly stomp into your room. He goes to the corner of the room to a door that was painted with thick white paint. At first glance, it blended perfectly into the wall- no wonder you didn't see it.
He stops to turn to you with a mocking smile as he slowly opens the closet for you, gesturing at it derisively. His smile drops immediately as he pushes past you and back into his own room. Before sliding the door closed aggressively, he mutters, "Now stop bothering me,"
You stand there dumbfounded. At least he talked to you?
A/N: hehehe
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