He is MINE (TaeKook Love Story) (18+)

Chapter 7: JUNGKOOK

Very soon it became obvious that "distraction" to Taehyung was synonymous with flirting. He was like a social butterfly on the stage, finding any excuse to touch, to tease, to flirt with pretty much anyone he could get his hands on. If you were lucky, he might even pick you to serenade to, dramatically chanting the lyrics from our songs.

I started to think he quite enjoyed seeing me flustered.

His stage presence was even more dazzling than his off-stage persona. It was impossible not to look at him. His every move, every sound, invited the gaze -even if he didn't seem to be doing anything other than what everyone else was doing.

Was I the only who was so affected by him?

I do not know how, but what he did to me helped. As soon as I was able to lose some of my nervousness, I started to have fun on stage. Once I had fun, I was no longer nervous at all. I couldn't stop grinning. Taehyung healed me.

When we came off stage after the performance, he came to me all smiles with his eyes shining brightly and said:

"From now on, I will always have my eyes on you, JungKookie. When you see me looking at you, I am holding your hand, I am right there with you. There is no need to be afraid anymore because I'm here." He tapped my chest, pointing at my heart.

Reaching for a deep hug, his lips brushed against my temple before he ran off, his step light.

Rubbing my temple, I tried to calm my beating heart, to no avail.

*

Whether on or off the stage, his delicate, gentle fingers always found their way on me, against me, along me, around some part of me, be it my neck, leg, arm, ear. Tapping, soothing, smoothing, twisting, whacking, pinching. He would lean on me, jump on me for piggyback rides, make a mess of my hair, hold my hand, tickle me -calmly, I accepted all of it. I never objected.

I came to look forward to, no, I expected his touch whenever he was near me and when he was not next to me, I felt his absence acutely. I needed him to touch me as much as he needed to touch me.

Taehyung was my remedy.

I needed him to extend me out of myself, to open myself up to the world, to have the confidence to do what I wanted to. His presence was enough to give me confidence.

As long as he was with me, I knew who I was.

Although it was much more subtle, I realised that Taehyung needed me too. Where he helped me come out of my shell, I was his strength when his failed. I had become his protector.

When his sensitivity got the better of him or when he lost confidence in himself -he leaned on me, for me to carry him through. I was the rescue boat; he was the wind making me sail across the waves and fly.

When he was happy, I was happy. When he was sad, I was sad. My attention was always, entirely, on him.

*

Slowly, over time, our relationship evolved into something more complex, deeper than skinship or just playing around on stage to entertain the fans or staving off nervousness.

Most mornings we would find ourselves tangled together amongst the sheets. Usually Tae's arm was wrapped around me, holding me tight to him as if I had taken the place of the pillow he had been clinging onto not so long ago.

For a long time, one of us would always leave the bed before the other, so the physical closeness was never mentioned but became the new normal. We would fall asleep separately, but every morning, our bodies had become one without us knowing or deciding that it would happen.

Tae finally acknowledged it one evening when we were lying in bed, neither of us able to sleep:

"Can I hold you?" he said with a tiny voice from the other side of the bed. The distance felt long between us.

I stayed quiet.

"I can't get to sleep. I sleep so much better when I am holding you." His voice even smaller, almost pleading. I could just imagine his big imploring eyes and his lip jutting out slightly.

"Hmmm...." I was trying to decide what I would actually be agreeing to if I said yes.

Lying in my space with my thoughts, I heard him move closer.

His slender hand snuck in under the covers, slowly sliding over my chest, as if waiting for me to protest, until his whole arm was over me and his body lying next to mine, soft and warm.

His head rested on my shoulder; he sighed and without waiting for an answer, he fell asleep, his breath a light flutter on my neck.

Our bodies seemed to calm and hum when we were touching, as if they were meant to be together. Two halves making a whole bigger than the sum of the two separately.

After he had fallen asleep, my lips caressed his forehead. His bush of orange tickled my nose and I breathed in the familiar scent. His warm skin was so smooth and soft.

This felt like home.

Our bodies fitted together, his folding and moulding into mine like water. I was always surrounded by warm softness, his face often snuggling into my neck like a puppy wanting attention.

I could not pinpoint the exact moment in time when the cuddling became mutual.

I would sleep with my arm around him, holding him close, my harder body engulfing his slender, softer one, and my nose deep in his hair or nuzzling into the sweet, soft spot where the neck meets the shoulder. I wasn't sure where his body ended and mine began. Our edges became blurred.

In our secret, quiet moments, lying in the darkness before sleep overtook us, we would share our fears and secret hopes in our mingling breaths. No one else existed in this world.

The night was our sanctuary.