30

I know Tammy is close to losing her shit. It's in the way she keeps huffing and shaking her head, and how she takes a big breath every time she comes to the counter to pick up the drinks I've prepared.

Both of us being in a bad mood, Tammy because she got rejected for a role again and me for obvious reasons, isn't of help considering the environment in the bar is awful. Drunk assholes are a daily thing in our job, but especially today they're being worse than usual. Although it's still under control, I don't want it to be one of those nights that ends up with the police paying a visit.

—They're making me so violent —she drops the plate, making the clients sitting on the counter jump because of the thunderous unexpected sound—. They'd be surprised with the thousand ways to torture someone with a straw I'm coming up with.

—Stay here, and I'll do the tables —I try to convince her—. I don't really mind, even if it's my Monday.

Whoever is having their Monday, stays behind the counter and just prepares drinks and only deals with the customers sitting here. That's what we do. The start of the week is hard enough, to add dealing with dumb asses to it. We both agreed on it a long time ago, and we've worked like that for quite a long while. But I get how she must be feeling today, I've been there, so I don't see a problem with switching places.

—But it's your Monday —she shakes her head right after saying that—. It's alright.

—Tam, I don't care. You've been with the tables for two hours already, stay back here.

—You sure?

—Yup —I walk next to her—. I'll deal with it.

Tammy doesn't hide the smile on her face as she moves to the back of the counter, running in tiny before she pays attention to some of the customers.

The next hour goes by a little more fluidly, at least it passes by faster than the past two hours. I'm so busy picking up empty glasses, and cleaning up messy tables, that I'm not aware of who's coming or leaving. I have way too much to do to actually be worrying about that.

—Look who finally dares to show up —a male voice gets my attention.

When I lift my eyes from the table, I see those plumped lips smirking at my direction. So he actually came.

—SeokJin —I say his full name playfully—. What can I get you?

—A Martini should be okay. Also, just Jin is alright.

I nod, picking the two empty glasses left on the table just to head towards the counter. And when I walk back to him with his drink, he offers me a seat. I look around, just to make sure nobody is waiting to be attended, and I take a quick look at Tammy, who nods fast at me and encourages me to sit.

—So, did a bird tell you about my offer?

—You mean that bird over there? —I point to Tammy— Yes.

—My previous art dealer moved to Europe —he starts explaining—, and I'm in a rush to find someone at his level. Next week my gallery will be holding one of the biggest expositions, and I need someone that could give good advice to clients. Melanie told me you did Fine arts, but you're struggling to find a job.

—Hence why I'm here —I shrug.

—I want to arrange an interview —he goes straight to the point—. I'm warning you, I'm not easy to impress.

—Yet you're the one trying to arrange an interview, not the other way around.

I'm surprised by the flirty tone I use while saying that, because it was more intended to sound funny. Jin smiles at my comment, nodding and giving in.

—Come to the gallery tomorrow at eleven —he hands me his business card—, and bring an updated resume.

I nod, looking at all the information related to the gallery displayed on the golden card. Jin gets my attention before I'm able to finish reading.

—Will your boyfriend be okay with it?

—My boyf...?

When I lift my gaze to look at him, he instantly points at some point in the bar behind me. Jungkook is looking in our direction, despite being with Jimin and some other person I'm unable to recognize.

—He's not my boyfriend —I look back at Jin—. Just an overprotective friend.

—That's even worse —he adds with a smirk.

He doesn't really need to say much. Jin drinks the whole liquid of the glass with one sip, and hands me twenty dollars.

—Keep the change —Jin gets up, and fixes his shirt—. I'll see you tomorrow.

—See you tomorrow.

He moves faster than me, and takes the empty glass so he can hand it to Tammy himself. I wish all customers did that, honestly.

All my excitement seems suddenly gone as soon as I realize that there's one table I should be heading to right now. Honestly, last time we argued it took us one week to get back to each other, so I didn't expect him to come around this soon. I'm not ready for the look he's giving me as he sees me walking to their table, eyes fixed on me although the people he's with are trying to engage him in a conversation.

—Hey, Y/n —Jimin greets me—. How's everything going?

—Fine —I sigh.

—Y/n? This is Y/n? —the boy with messy brown hair asks— I finally meet you. You have no idea how much Jungkook has talked about you.

The table moves under them, and he complains, rubbing his leg while throwing Jungkook a withering stare.

—Tae, why don't you just say what you want to drink? —Jimin calls him out.

—Hey, beauty. Come here —another man says, from one of the tables in the corner of the bar.

—I'll be with you in just one second —I glare back at Jungkook and his friends.

—By the way, I received your email. Wednesday 25th is okay for you? —Jimin asks.

—Um. About that, I think it won't be necessary. I'll try to work with someone else.

When you're desperate and need help, you jump at the first person that's available. And although Jimin is a good therapist, having him work on my issues when he's best friends with one of those issues isn't a good idea.

—Why?

—I met someone who's specialized on that —I lie.

—Well, that's great —he nods, giving me a genuine smile—. But I'll save the appointment for the 25th at four. Just in case you change your mind.

I'm almost going to thank him, but the same masculine voice interrupts me, trying to get my attention again.

—She said she'd be with you in a fucking minute —Jungkook speaks for the first time—. Calm your ass down, unless you want me to do it for you.

—What are you doing? —I scold him.

—Are you serious? He...

—I'm serious —I stop him—. He's drunk and just being an asshole. Last thing I want tonight is someone getting in a fight —after that, my attention goes back to Tae and Jimin—. Guys, what do you want?

—Three beers —Jimin rushes to answer.

Jungkook is clearly pissed at what I said. But I know what could happen if I don't cut it. Those assholes just go to places dying to pick up a fight, they don't care who it is or what's the cause. They just want chaos. And I'm not in the mood to deal with that tonight.

As time goes by, I feel more and more nervous. The craziness in the bar today, adding Jungkook's stare following every single step I take isn't of help. At all.

—Do you want to switch? —Tammy asks me as I ask her a few more drinks for a new table.

—No, it's okay —I sigh—. A lot of them are already leaving anyway.

—I'm getting an off vibe from those at table five.

—Same. But let's hope it's just a bad vibe, and they leave without making a fuss.

Last time we had a similar group to that one, they ended up breaking two chairs and five glasses. Leaving aside the injuries to one of our usual customers and having to be stuck here for one hour more to deal with the police and cleaning up the mess.

Being too hopeful is free. And being the poorest alive, that's the only comfort I can find. Actually, the only comfort I seem to need right now.

—I'm so fucking stressed. Can they leave already? —Tammy complains.

—I heard them saying they'd leave after those drinks, so let's just wait.

—Do you want some water?

—Please.

Tammy turns to the small fridge behind her, where we save things like food we bring for our breaks, or our water. She hands to me my, already opened, water bottle. But before I'm able to take it, someone grabs it first. One of those dudes looks at me with a mocking smile while he opens it and takes a drink from it.

This is disgusting.

—Cutie, can you charge us? —he asks, not even looking at Tammy.

—Sure. That water bottle will be included —she says, pissed off.

—I don't care. As long as that means your friend will come along.

He's so close, I can smell the distillery stink coming from him. One of his hands try to get catch of my waist, but I move faster, stepping back. He mutters something I don't understand, tilting his head while trying to calm me down. At the second attempt, I push him away, making him take some steps back.

—Sorry, sorry —he lifts his hands.

—Here —Tammy slaps the ticket over the counter, his eyes move away from me with the sound—. Pay.

He lands his credit card, throwing it as if it were nothing before his attention is back to me. can Tammy hurry up and just make him leave?

Obviously two attempts aren't enough, because I feel his hand landing on the lower part of my back, his fingers almost meeting the ass, when I push him away again.

—What the fuck is wrong with you?

It all happens so fast. The man is about to answer with that disgusting mocking smile on his face, but someone grabs him by the collar before making him fall to the ground with just one punch.

The situation gets out of hand when his other two friends join to hold Jungkook, and obviously Tae nor Jimin take long to get up from their places and help their friend. I'm so busy trying to separate them, while Tammy is trying to get in contact with the police, that I don't know at what moment the man lying on the ground stood up to hit Jungkook back and make both of them fall to the ground.

As I try to separate the both of them, I get pushed away and fall on my back. Although I'm not aware I supported my hand over the floor, filled with broken glasses, until later. Actually, it takes the police showing up and Tammy screaming scared for me to realize the deep cut in the palm of my hand. Under Jimin commands, she rolls a clean rag around my hand.

—Are you taking her on the motorbike? —Tae asks, when Jungkook guides me to the street with his hand wrapped around my wrist after picking up my things.

—If we have to wait for a cab, it'll take forever —he doesn't even turn.

I try to hold my grip on his t-shirt while he's driving, but every time I close my fist tight, a stabbing pain goes over my whole arm, which makes me instinctively drop the fabric. But Jungkook makes sure both of my arms are around him either way, even if his left hand has to let go of the handlebar to hold my wrist tight against his stomach.

We don't exchange a word while we wait in the hospital, nor while we're heading out. I just let him take me home. And when he stops in front of my building, we don't talk either. I hop off the motorbike thinking he'd let me go, but he doesn't.

—Won't you talk to me now? You won't even say goodbye?

I turn to him, finding how the smirk on his face vanishes as my eyes land on his.

—I told you those assholes only wanted to fight. I told you to let it go and ignore them —I confront him.

—That dickhead was crossing the line.

—He was about to leave —I cut him off—. Something that would have lasted two minutes, turned into twenty because of you. Because you always have to do whatever the fuck you want.

—Are you still talking about the fight or about something else? —he squints his eyes.

—About everything —I see him moving his tongue across his cheek inside his mouth, the bulge tracing a line while he looks away—. Does my opinion mean nothing to you or what?

—It does. Fuck, y/n, that asshole was making you uncomfortable —he hops off the motorbike—. Not only once, or twice. He tried it three fucking times, and you were just expecting me to sit back and look? —he scoffs, shaking his head before his eyes fix on mine— I'm sorry, but I can't just sit back and look when it comes to you. And I'd have broken each one of his teeth if I had had the chance.

I look at him, finally realizing the state he's in with his bruised cheek, that little cut on his eyebrow, and the stain of blood I left while I was trying to hold onto him. I want to be so mad at him, I want to kick his motorbike so bad right now. But I can't.

I feel I'm so wrong about this whole thing, about being so weak with just one look from him... But I can't stand being on bad terms with him. Last time we went a week without talking nor seeing each other, I felt like I was going crazy. Always turning on the phone to call him or send him a text, but regretting it soon after.

We both argue, but are so drawn to each other, that he always ends up reaching up to him and I always end up giving in.

Like right now.

—Let's go to my place so I can clean you up.

Complete silence.

That's what we're surrounded with when we first get in. None of us dares to talk first, we just head towards the bathroom. I point at the toilet, so he sits there and waits while I'm preparing everything to treat his wounds.

—I know you're mad about yesterday —Jungkook looks down at me—. But you'll thank me in the long run.

—Sure, I will. Because it's so normal to encourage someone you like to fuck others. And it's completely okay to expect her to be okay with it.

—I don't want you to rush into things —I hear him sigh—. You barely lived your life because of what happened. I don't think I'd be able to be the second reason why you haven't lived. Now it's your time to do everything you couldn't, and choose whenever you feel sure to choose.

—Even if you tell me to do it, you're aware I won't —I look at him fast—. So what's the point?

I scan his face, while I cover his wounds with the gauze drenched in alcohol.

—You're choosing because you're scared I'll sleep with other girls, and dump you —he gives me a tiny smile—. Cocktease —his tattooed hand covers my wrist, his voice sounding soft while calling me by my nickname—, just trust me —I see him smile again—. New rule: I won't see anyone else, just you.

—That's not fair —I pick another gauze—. You're getting nothing out of that rule.

—You —he stops for one second—. It was always about you, remember? —he scoffs— Besides, after fucking you, it'll be so difficult to fuck with someone else. You were out of this worl... Ouch!

He complains when I press a bit harder than I should on the wound of his eyebrow. I throw the used gauzes into the bin that's right next to the toilet, and try to get up. But Jungkook holds me until I'm sitting on his lap.

—I can't stand it when you're mad at me.

—Really? Because you don't stop giving me reasons to be mad at you.

His lips curve up in such a particular and funny way, I can't help but smile back at him. I hate him for being like this. And all of this is the exact same reason why I can't understand why he wants me to see other people. I can't understand why he'd want to risk all of this.

—What's going on with that dude, by the way? I saw you talking with him again.

—Jin?

—I guess —he shrugs.

—He wanted me to apply for a vacancy in his gallery. I have a job interview tomorrow.

—With him? —he can't hide the disgust on his face.

—Yes.

Although that expression disappears soon, being replaced by a smile when he notices the way I'm looking at him.

—I'm so happy for you. You deserve it.

—Yeah, sure you are happy —I roll my eyes.

—I am. Nobody deserves this more than you —he places a hand on my leg—. Why don't we celebrate it? —he lowers the tone of his voice.

When he leans in to kiss me, I move back. And I do that every time he tries to stick our lips together, making him groan out of frustration. I rub my lips against his, while my fingers caress gently each one of his tattoos, especially that snake that hangs at the beginning of his wrist, as if I were drawing them with my fingertips. I go up his sleeve, moving my hand at the same time my lips move down his lips and over his jaw.

His fingers try to go further up my thigh, but every attempt gets blocked by my hand on his.

—Y/n —he whines my name.

I smile against his skin, still moving my lips on his skin, filling my nostrils with his fresh scent. I put one of his locks behind his ear, and I lean forward. Just like my right hand ventures down the collar of his t-shirt, to get a touch of his collarbone and chest, my tongue starts a route from his jaw to his earlobe. He breathes heavily when I finally reach there, the hand on my thigh grabbing the flesh tighter when my teeth take the piece of skin between my teeth.

—You want me to date and fuck other guys, then I will choose when you can fuck me just the same way —I whisper in his ear.

If he doesn't change his mind about this whole thing by talking, I'll make him change his mind in another way.

—Babe...

—Nope —I get up—. You want this, perfect. But if you want to fuck me, work for it.

—Fine. We'll see how much it takes you to give in —he stands up, being taller than me again.

—I've gone twenty six years without sex, I'm sure I'll be able to wait a bit for the next time.

I leave my bathroom and head toward my room, with Jungkook following me up close. As I see him getting ready to take off his shirt to lie on his usual side of the bed, I stop him.

—I don't think so —he looks at me—. It's either my couch or your house.

—You really gonna make me sleep somewhere else?

I don't answer, I just shrug.

I think he might leave, but instead, he just takes off his t-shirt and walks to me. Placing his hand on my nape, he leans over me to plant a kiss on my forehead.

—Sleep well, cocktease.

—You, too.

As I see him walking out of my room, paying attention to each one of the lines that the muscles in his back form, I know this will be the hardest challenge I've ever had to go through. And the worst part is that I brought this on myself.

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