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hey guys. it took me forever to update ik.
i rewrote this chapter constantly, not liking any of the ideas i had with it. luckily, lots of Halsey and food helped me push through my writers block.
I spent a good five hours laying on my floor, retyping, deleting, and retyping this so i hope you enjoy.
sorry for grammar mistakes. -
Jungkook was quick on his feet, not like I was expecting him to be slow anyways. It forced me to play catch up with him in our little game of avoid the Parks. It reminded me of cops and robbers, something I used to play as a kid in the playground. I always ended up a robber. I guess I kinda robbed Mido of something too.
I let him pull me into an alleyway. My eyes drift to the Parks passing us easily with a raging Mido following after them while they shout and cuss to themselves. Their voices fade into nothing in seconds.
Now, it's just me and Jungkook.
His taunt arms incage me against rough bricks, his breath fanning across my face softly. His face resembles almost stone, like he's made out of alabaster.
He doesn't smile. It's like his pouty lips won't let him. His eyes are watchful and still as he lowers his gaze down to my eyes. Blood rushes to my face. It fills my head and makes dizzy.
"I've been envisioning this moment for a long time," his finger traces the line of cheekbone, "After the ball, I couldn't get you off my mind. I was furious at Jimin for choosing you. I had plans for you." His words are whispers on my lips.
His voice reminds me of silk. It's smooth and leveled, similar to Jimin's but there's an edge to it. I can't speak. I'm too afraid too.
"It makes me even more furious to know he used as a maid at first. You have so much more potential than that. If you were mine, everybody would know your name."
His jaw flexes when his tongue coats his bottom lip with saliva. His eyes promise me something his words just can't. They are liquid brown. It makes me feel like I'm looking into a chocolate factory.
I touch his chest only to give us some distance. He's wearing a black polo and khakis. The skin under his shirt is tight and hard just like his facial expression.
"Funny how things have changed." I don't mean to sound so morbid but my voice unravels itself as it is. I sigh to myself, "Thank you for—uh—saving my life."
I change the subject. It feels like if I didn't, he would never stop going on about what he would've or could've done to me.
I think about it.
Well, what if Jimin didn't choose me? What if I had fallen into the arms of another magnificent beast?
Many say the chosen should always be grateful for the kings who take them under their wings but is that really something to be grateful about? Especially with infamous Jeon Jungkook?
