JUNGKOOK
Days on trial: 66
I'm half-naked, and so is she, remnants of the night before inked into her skin; plumy sunset bruises that hold no pain, just pleasure.
It dawned on me quite quickly that she was supposed to be seeing family today. I'd never been able to distinguish between hickeys and unblemished skin when I was a Mono– would she? There was no way her parents could see her like this. I was not going to let this be their first impression of me.
Lashes resting gently above her rosy cheeks, I studied her like the fine lines of my artwork. Mapping out the curves and convections of her face, I considered the way in which I'd paint her.
Lucid strokes of my thinnest brush would structure dusky pink lines on aged parchment, tracing her delicate features. Watercolours would be the only medium that could do her justice, dainty and beautiful, an endless flow of converging ideas and traits. I'd use pearlescent tones, watching fine glitters as they spiralled and swam in the watery base, mesmerizing me until they dried out to exhibit pure opulence.
She was encapsulating, and I knew that I'd never actually be able to do her justice, no matter how many hours I spent studying her.
Perhaps it would be better if I stuck to photographing her – but even then, it would just be a snapshot of her smile in time. I needed the sound of her laughter too.
Fine then. Film. I'd immortalise her in film. That would work - yet still I wouldn't be able to capture the smell of her perfu-
"Morning," she mumbled into the duvet, dragging me away from my endlessly turbulent thought process.
Maybe it was better not to worry so much about preserving her in these moments, and just revel in them instead.
"Hey sleepy head," I pulled her closer into my chest, as her arm snaked on top of my torso, not concerned with disturbing her now. Nestling my nose into the crown of her head, I pressed a deliberate kiss in the mess of her morning hair. Her lips reciprocated, pecking softly against the skin of my chest. "Happy Christmas, Annie."
"Merry Christmas, Koo," she half laughed, burying her head in my chest.
"Something funny?" I teased, stomach ravaged by butterflies.
Shaking her head, her voice was dulcet and muffled against my torso, lips brushing it innocuously as she spoke. "Just didn't expect to wake up here, that's all."
"No?" I gambled, closing my eyes as we sank into the ease of our new equilibrium. "Must be shit, considering you hate surprises."
"Fucking awful," she hummed, and I could feel her cheeks rise with gratification. "Worst surprise of my life."
"Agreed," I simpered, squeezing her tightly.
If I was being honest, which Annie made increasingly hard with her insistent need to pretend as if she didn't have any feelings (of any kind), then I would have told her that it was the best morning I'd had in a long while; perhaps in my whole life.
But her desire to replace her feelings with borderline insulting terms of endearment meant that admitting such a thing would be impossible. I had to wait for her to concede first. There was no way I'd let her get away with thinking she had won.
"What time have you got to be at your parents?"
I softened my grasp on her, tracing my fingers up and down her arm, which was still snugly wrapped around me.
"About one," she uncurled, stretching like a sleepy kitten.
I rolled my body ever so minimally, trapping her in place with my own arm across her chest. Heat sparked inside of me as my skin came into contact with the silky satin of her bra. It was intolerable.
