Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

13.

It felt strange... dating again.

My hands trembled as I tried to steady my breath, nerves coiling in my stomach. It had been years since I felt this kind of anticipation, this rush that made my heart thump erratically in my chest. I had spent the last hour dodging Jin's relentless attempts to fix me up, stumbling around the house as he chased me down with a mascara wand. He even managed to burn my ear twice with the straightener in his overenthusiastic efforts.

But I stood my ground, keeping the simple sweatshirt and black shorts I had chosen that morning. I had a feeling Jungkook didn't care what I wore—if anything, he seemed to like me best when I was just myself.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had spent an ungodly amount of time tearing through Jin's closet in search of something that wasn't pink. Despite Jin's loud protests and threats of never lending him clothes again, Jungkook remained unfazed, grinning mischievously as he tossed aside a pastel sweater. When he finally emerged victorious, I found myself caught in an unexpected moment of awe.

He wore black shorts that fit just right, accentuating the strength in his legs, and paired them with a vertical black-and-white striped shirt, the open camp-style collar shirt draped over his broad shoulders. The fabric rested lightly against his frame, revealing the intricate sleeve tattoo that inked his arm. 

I'll have to ask him about his tattoos sometime. 

His dark hair, tousled into natural waves, falling effortlessly across his forehead and curling around his ears.

All I could do was stare.

Jungkook was breathtaking.

He caught me looking and smirked, his sharp eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Like what you see?"

I snapped out of it instantly, scoffing as I turned away. "It's alright, I guess."

His laughter followed me out the door.

"Be home before the sun sets or you're grounded!" Jin called after us in a mocking tone, and I gave him the finger without turning around as we made our way to the elevator.

~~

The walk along the shoreline was peaceful, the rhythmic crashing of the waves harmonizing with our slow, casual steps. Our shoulders brushed every so often, each fleeting touch sending sparks across my skin. I tried not to let it show—tried not to let the warmth pooling in my cheeks become too obvious—but I was failing miserably.

I had missed this—the ocean, the endless horizon stretching far beyond what the eye could see, the way the sun glittered against the water's surface like scattered diamonds. It was a stark contrast to the restless, bustling city life I had thrown myself into after leaving this place. Here, the air was fresh, carrying the scent of salt and freedom, whispering that maybe—just maybe—I could breathe again.

"I wanted to do good today," Jungkook's voice broke through the serenity, soft yet uncertain.

I glanced at him, tilting my head. "What do you mean?"

"Breakfast," he admitted, looking down at the sand as he kicked at a stray shell. "I wanted to make you something nice. That's why I woke up early. I wanted to impress you."

Something about his quiet confession tugged at my heart.

I snorted, nudging him with my elbow. "Impress me? Yeah, well, let me take care of breakfast from now on, okay?"

His lips curled into a slow, playful smile, dimples appearing as he pretended to consider my words. "How about I get rid of Gustave and you cook me breakfast every morning?"