"They thrive on thrill; adrenaline and danger runs through their veins the same way they race through the streets to win."
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"Is that how you like living? Speeding away as the people around you become a blur...
(pls make sure u have read the chapter before this)
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Sarang instantly regrets putting on the cuter shirt. The sleeveless top paired with the cold makes the goosebumps on her arms rise and the deeper cut of her neck shows a tease of her cleavage — which any other day would have garnered no stares but for some reason today, she feels too watched.
She picks a less crowded corner to dial Jia's number. Her foot taps impatiently on the pavement as she waits for the call to be answered but groans when it doesn't. Her mind is spiking with panic and alertness; part of her is worried for her friend but the other part can't stop thinking about the boys she left behind here, promising to never see them again yet here she is, silently wishing for a familiar face to pop up.
A few minutes pass and there's still no word from Jia, a sense of deja vu overcomes her when she leans against the trunk of a car again and silently waits for her friend to call back. Her eyes scan the crowd who seems to be extra buzzed today, as if still experiencing the aftershocks of an adrenaline rush. Some of them are arguing heatedly about something while some of them are grinning loudly, receiving notes of cash from their friends.
Ah, must've bet on a race today.
She's still scanning the crowd when her eyes lock with a familiar pair of heated brown eyes. There's a crowd around him, consisting of talkative girls who are trying to get his attention. He's in the exact same position as her; leaning against the trunk of his car that Sarang remembers clearly sitting in.
Sarang levels her gaze, she realises she's oddly missed having his attention solely on her and she's definitely missed the rush of excitement and tingles of her nerves she gets from simply looking at him. He looks much more handsome than she remembers, dressed in black jeans and a maroon button up shirt with the first few buttons undone. He knows he looks good; it's obvious from the way she leans back confidently and raises an eyebrow at her blatant staring.
She can't help it. Something about Taehyung is so simply captivating that it holds you in place wondering what he will do next or what will he say next. There's something intimidating about his beauty, as if knowing that standing in front of him itself might take a lot of courage because Sarang herself has found herself often to tongue-tied in front of him.
Her eyes rake down his chest, a silver chain gleams on his creamy skin, making him look even more attractive. She realises everything about him is perfectly mixed; while he so easily attracts attention, he is able to hold it with the way he plays with the mind of the person looking at him. He teases, even when he's not teasing, enough to make her want to come closer.
When she looks back up again, he's giving her a smirk. Sarang isn't ashamed to be caught staring although she wished she hasn't played so easily into his hand. She wonders why hasn't he approached her yet before her mind reels back to what he said last time.
It's your call this time.
Sarang chews on her lower lip, contemplating if she should walk up to him. Her feet tap anxiously, as if reminding her to take the short distance and stand in front of him. Her mind pulls her back in, reminding her that this is a place she has to stay away from. Her phone is still silent in her hands.
