Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

3.

Mint and air freshener.

That's the first thing my senses latch onto—clean and soft, but entirely unfamiliar. It's enough to confirm I didn't make it home last night.

No dull body aches or strained muscles.

That's the second clue. For the first time in over a year, I didn't have to drag a drunk Taehyung home and collapse on the floor in utter exhaustion from playing damage control.

The third clue—soft, even breaths brushing against my skin. Warm, rhythmic, close.

Definitely not Taehyung.

A knot of nerves twisted in my stomach as the events of last night played on repeat in my head. The overcrowded party. Taehyung spiraling into his usual drunken chaos. The stranger with the sharp jawline and honeyed gaze.

Wait.

My eyes snapped open. "Stranger!"

The word shot out of my mouth as I jolted upright on the couch, narrowly missing his face in the process. Chocolate-brown eyes blinked back at me, wide with surprise and still heavy with sleep.

For a moment, neither of us said a word. His tousled hair, furrowed brows, the faint crease on his cheek from sleeping awkwardly—all of it grounded me in a surreal reality I wasn't prepared for.

"Stranger?" His raspy morning voice cut through the silence, pulling me further into the moment. He looked at me, confused but calm, as he stretched an arm over the back of the couch. "I thought we got past that last night. You do remember my name, right?"

The sound of his voice sent a shiver up my spine, unsteadying me further.

I forced my gaze down to assess the situation. My bare legs, tangled in the hem of an oversized white t-shirt. The gray couch we'd talked on for hours last night. Relief washed over me as I noted my skirt was still in place.

When I finally looked back up, Jungkook's gaze had softened, his brows slightly raised as if to silently reassure me.

"Jungkook," I whispered, the name tumbling out as if saying it would anchor me.

His lips curved into a small, lopsided smile. "There you go."

I tucked my legs underneath me, sitting upright as my heart worked overtime to steady itself. Jungkook let out a short, relieved laugh, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning back against the couch.

"So," he said, voice still thick with sleep, "good morning, Ailene. Or should I say... stranger?"

I took in his appearance, still hazy with sleep. His raven hair was mussed, sticking out in uneven angles that somehow still suited him. Wrinkles creased his black shirt, and faint imprints from the couch traced up the veins of his tattooed arm where one sleeve was rolled up to his elbow.

The light streaming through the tall windows behind him softened his edges, catching on the tousled strands of his hair and casting a golden glow over his figure. I blinked several times, heat rushing to my cheeks as the image before me settled into focus.

This isn't fair. No one should look this good in the morning.

"You had me worried for a second there," he said, breaking the silence. "I thought maybe you'd forgotten... about our conversation last night." His voice was soft, still thick with sleep, but there was an edge of nervousness beneath it that caught me off guard.

Then he glanced away, tongue playing with his lip ring for just a second before he continued. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

The quiet vulnerability in his words sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. He had no idea how close I was to breaking into a smile right then and there. Instead, I pushed it down, letting his words linger as my mind drifted back to the conversation that had stretched into the early hours of the morning.