The unimaginable dryness of my throat jolted me awake at an ungodly hour, looking at the digital clock by the night stand it read 4:38 am having me groan mentally. I could've bask in the warmth of the bed is providing and go back to sleep, but having my throat feel like Sahara desert says otherwise. Willing myself to break away from the comfort of my bed took few more minutes than necessary, mentally noting in my head to keep a bottle of water next time. When I finally managed to get up, the world literally felt like it's spinning making me feel nauseous. Before the bile in the pit of my stomach goes out, I made a dash to the bathroom across the hall. Making me want to pat myself on the back for being able to run in my yet again, drunken state. That explains why my throat is parched. Jeongguk might've tucked me in again to bed, I suppose. As Iclung to the sides of the toilet bowl puking my guts out, questioning another dumb life choices made, vowing to never get this intoxicated again on a week day which I'll probably not do, especially when you have an 8am class the next day--
"Fuck" I grumble under my breath, after letting it all out. Feels like I puked one of my organs there, the hangover catching up based on the pounding in my head. Will I manage to attend my classes later? "I need water." I murmur, dragging my feet in the kitchen's direction as I look back what the hell gotten into me that I'm this drunk. Is it because of my thesis? Final exams? My devil friends talked me into it? What could possibly happened that I've let myself this drunk to the point of having the amount of alcohol I took had me in an Emergency Room?. The five seconds journey felt too long, specially when you're as hammered as me. The euphoric feeling I had when the refrigerator came into view made me giggle dumbly, hastily taking a bottle of the much needed water after opening the fridge. Three big gulps and a hideous burp, that's all it took to finish a bottle. "Jesus, I need more." I snort after throwing the empty bottle somewhere in the damned kitchen, quenching my thirst was the first priority. After taking the new one, I staggered towards the worn out couch in the living room hearing a familiar chuckle from the other end. There he is, casually seated on the armchair. I just stared at his face, taking in his bambi eyes that could rival the stars at night, his sharp jaw that I love to trace my fingers with, his prominent nose that would srunch up whenever he smiles or laugh, his lips that I usually envy with how perfect they are sculpted, how they pout whenever he does aegyo if he wants something, together with the cute mole under his bottom lip. And my favorite, the scar on his left cheek. The street lights making a dramatic effect on him in the darkness, making him look like a fallen angel. How is he even mine?
He's wearing his leather jacket, it's either he just got here or he's leaving you silently noted.
(a/n: pretend it's dark, k?)

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"Fun fact, pictures last longer." he cockily comment making me roll my eyes at him.
"You're hanging out with Seokjin so much." I deadpanned, making him chuckle. How you love that sound. "Did you change my clothes or I'm just too fucked up that I went to a bar wearing this?" I queered after noticing his matching puma sweatshirt and pants adorning your form. "God, I'm so drunk." I whine, while massaging my temple in the hopes of lessening the pain I'm feeling.
