Partner in crime-liskook

31- feel again

«care to share any of that water soon?" He asked me.
I looked at him and didn't say anything, he took my arms and switched places with me, I held my breath as our bodies were pressed up against each other. I could feel his most private part touching my leg every now and then and even with my breasts pressed up against his chest, it didn't seem to affect him.

He began washing himself and I was ready to burst at this point from furiousness.

Still nothing! I got nothing! I thought that maybe he would kiss me, maybe something more, but no. All he did was assault my boobs and then continue to not give a fuck about my presence in the steaming hot shower. What was wrong with him! Or maybe me. What was wrong with me.

I got done quickly and almost didn't have enough patience to wrap a towel around myself, I stormed out of the bathroom and into his bedroom again. I had such a strong urge to run away from him again but fought the thought away.

"Take a shirt from my closet, top drawer," he told me.

I turned around and saw his glistening self standing there like som royal prince. He had only a towel around his abdomen and it was impossible not to stare. I mean how could you not. He is a whole meal and I can't believe I once had all that, I should have appreciated everything more, cause now I may never have that again.

But then he suddenly dropped his towel. I didn't get the chance to look away before I saw him, all of him.
"Jesus..Jungkook," i covered my eyes with my hand.
"A little warning-"

"You didn't seem to mind what you saw there Lisa," he teased. And he laughed, a real laugh. He was rubbing his towel back and forth through his hair.
"It's just a penis, Lisa," he said.

"One I never asked to see again," I pointed out to him. He shrugged. "So it's just me then."

"What."

"You're not gay. Then it's obviously a me thing."

"And now you're making no sense Lisa," he sighed.

"I mean I keep thinking."

"And therein lies the problem my dear," he said smugly and threw the towel over his shoulder, he walked around me and to his closet, he pulled out a boxer from his shelf and wore it on.

"You're such a jerk," I muttered as he threw me a black boxer to wear and a shirt.

"Come on, they're just like shorts," he said when I glared at him.

"What is it about me that you hate so much?"

"I never said I hate you," he replied and dug two drawers down.

"But I mean-" I stopped and groaned loudly, I felt like a complete fool trying to admit whatever it was I thought was going on between us. "I just, I think sometimes that, that you, I mean." I frowned deeply.

He took a normal white shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Sometimes I feel like there is.... just... something between us."

"There is a lot between us, we have a long history, no?"

"Something romantic again," I admitted feeling even stupider.

"Oh," he said and walked back to the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of his bed and waited for him to come out. He came back into the room running a comb into his hair.

"I feel like there is something with us, and then all of the sudden there isn't. You make fun of me or you bluntly tell me you don't like me, and then you do, and then you pull away, and then you pull me closer, and I just-"