To Love A CEO || JJK

four

Headline: Who Started the Lawsuit?

What. The. Fuck.

My mind feels fried which for some reasons equates to my whole body aching - even though it's not. I grasp at my blankets until my hands feel some soft blanket.

This isn't mine.

My brows furrow in confusion as I roll over - only to catch myself from falling.

"Woah, there. I wouldn't do that if I were you," I hear a low, tired voice from a distance. I squeeze my eyes before forcing them open. The room is flooded with light and it takes me a few moments to register a few things.

Firstly, Jungkook slumped against his table, sloppily writing something.

Secondly, his office,

Thirdly, me, on the sofa under a blanket.

He doesn't bother talking to me and I don't bother talking to him. Instead, my hands fumble about as I swing my legs over the couch to sit up. Sitting up too quickly causes my head to start ringing and I clutch it.

"Fuck," I say grandly.

"I know," is all he replies.

I finally grab my phone and that snaps me awake.

"Fuck," this time, the word is clearer and sharper. This wakes Jungkook up.

"What?" he mumbles.

I don't reply as I stare at my screen.

12.15pm. 72 missed calls from Minnie. 45 unread texts from Mira.

I frantically start unlocking my phone and call Mira.

"Bitch!" she shouts and I wince.

"I know. I know. I messed up," my voice is rough - from the alcohol or from the sleep, I can't tell. That infuriates me more. How did I get so carried away? How did I become so vulnerable, so careless? He could've kidnapped me and I would not have known.

"Where are you?" she asks after a sigh.

"Have not left this damn building," I say shamefully.

"Get down here in 15 minutes," she finally says sternly before hanging up. I still hold the phone to my ear for a few additional seconds before throwing it onto the floor, knowing full well it wouldn't break since the floor was carpeted.

"Water?" Jungkook offers as he walks towards me. I exhale through my nose as I look at him.

"You look even worse," I comment as I push myself off the couch and stretch.

"We drank for two hours straight," he ditches my remark.

"Believe me, I feel like I've drunk for two hours," I say as I start to tie my hair up.

"Wasn't my idea," he yawns as he leans back.

"I truly cannot remember whose idea it was. That's how messed up my insides feel right now," I roll my eyes as I put my glasses on. It's then when I fully understand how messed up we were. Apart from the couch, the rest of the room was in pristine condition. The coffee table by the sofa had at least ten bottles of wine and vodka. Behind them, on the couch, Jungkook, who is now making himself comfortable with the blanket.

I'm in so much trouble.

"But, admit it. It was fun," he chuckles to himself, eyes closed. I don't disagree with that since I truly loosened up, but I refuse to agree with it.

"Was this some ploy to not talk about the lawsuit?" I ask casually, half joking.

"Nope. you can return after lunch and we can properly talk about that," he snuggles deeper into his blanket.

"Mira's going to kill me," I murmur as I make my way to his chair and sink into it. He doesn't yell at me or tells me to not look at his work. He looks at me tiredly as I randomly flip through his papers, not properly reading its contents. This would be the perfect opportunity to learn his company's secrets or to snoop or to do something sneaky - but I don't.

We are strangely comfortable with each other.

"Does this make us friends?" I wonder aloud. If it weren't for last night's alcohol, I would not be this straightforward - hell, I wouldn't even be asking that question.

"What do you mean?" he mumbles back, confused. I know that if it weren't for the alcohol, he would also not be talking so freely.

"I'm looking through your work right now. I don't think business partners read through each other's contracts. Aren't you scared I'll use this against you?" I ask logically. I look up from the papers and look him in the eyes.

"I guess, for some reason, that I might come to regret, I trust you," he shrugs. I look at him (actually look at him) and how his face is squished against the velvet sofa, the blanket pulled up to his chin and I chew on the inside of my cheek.

"You know, you didn't have to call me on the receptionist's phone," he suddenly comments. My brows raise.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head.

"I saw you enter the building through the CCTV cameras. That's why the guards didn't stop you - I told them not to," he chuckles like some mastermind.

"I must've looked so foolish," I mumble to myself.

"You should've seen how stressed you looked," he laughs and I throw a pen at him.

Why am I like this so suddenly?

I start searching his drawers for a notepad and grab the nearest one I find.

"Are you trying to memorise my signature?" he opens one eye. I simply shake my head and start writing away. It's peaceful for five minutes until I click the pen.

"I'm going to go now. I'll contact you via email about the court case," I say as I stand up.

"Okay, you're lucky people don't come in till 1. You'd better go quickly or people are going to start to come," he advises as he stands up to walk me out. I don't even question him about the work hours of his employees. His company, his rules.

I give him one last smile before tugging my cardigan around me tighter, walking towards the elevator. The last thought that crosses my mind as I make my way down is of the note I wrote to him.

Thanks for the alcohol.