31

I know what he's doing when I wake up and I see him serving our breakfast on my tiny kitchen table, wearing nothing but his baggy jeans. While he's pouring the juice on one of the two glasses, I pay attention to the way the muscles in his arm tense while holding the juice brick. The colorful designs only make me want to slide my fingers over it. Not happy with that, he also collected his hair in a messy tail -knowing how down I am for those.

I know perfectly what he's trying to do. He smirks as soon as he's aware of how it's working against me.

He's such an asshole for this.

—Good morning, cocktease —he finally greets with a smile on his face—. Slept well?

—Great —he sits on the chair, hearing my answer while giving me a funny look—. What about you?

—I would've slept better with you, but you sent me to the couch like a dog —he puckers his lips—. It's alright though.

Jungkook brushes his bangs off his face, throwing them back, although they eventually fall back to the same place anyway. I know his hair wasn't bothering him at all.

He wants to play this game, then fine, we'll play this game.

—You could've gone home —I shrug.

I spread the strawberry jam over the toast, accidentally slipping some on the crusty border. I almost don't care, until I see the chance to tease him when I catch him with his big eyes on me. I take it away with my finger, just to taste it directly from my finger, sucking it slowly before I let it go with a popping sound.

I try to act as normal as possible after that, just to find his eyes being squinted at me while he plays with his lip ring.

—Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do.

—What am I trying to do? —I ask innocently, biting on my toast.

—You're punishing me.

Says the person without a t-shirt on.

—Stop being so self-centered. I'm just having breakfast.

—So you're not trying to make me hard?

—If I wanted to make you hard —I move my feet over his shinbone, sliding it up slowly—, I'd do this —I purr, stopping when I reach his mid thigh.

—You're being so unfair.

—I thought you said you'd be able to take it? —I bite on my toast again, slightly moving my feet further.

—Yeah, but you're playing dirty.

—I didn't do anything.

After saying that, I move my feet again, but I only get to reach his crotch for a fast second before he makes the chair legs make a loud sound as he drags it as far as he can from my reach. Jungkook gives me a warning look, but knows it'll be useless when his eyes connect with mine and he's able to decipher my intentions.

He knows that warning look won't change a thing.

—You won't finish your breakfast? —I ask, as I see him putting his t-shirt on.

—We both know that if I stay here longer, breakfast won't be what I end up eating.

Jungkook returns to the table, but only squats in front of me. His eye smile must be one of the best, because I don't get how his lips are barely curving, yet his eyes are radiating light. His thumb moves over my lower lip, taking away some crumbs or jam -that he licks from his fingertip so casually, without breaking eye contact, that my mouth goes dry faster than I can even process what happened.

—I also have to open the studio, and you need to get ready for the interview —he pinches my chin with two of his fingers.

He stands up easily, he lands a short kiss on my forehead, just to bend over again to the side and grab a bite of my toast. As he waves goodbye for the second time, I don't want him to leave. I wish he could stay a little longer.

I don't take long to start getting ready. I put on my best outfit, trying to look the most elegant and serious I can, but I just look like someone who's just got out of a costume party. Nothing worked. Not the pantsuit -and its several combinations with other clothing-, not the over-the-knee tight skirt, not the lawyer navy dress.

This is ridiculous.

I just put on a pair of jeans, and one of the blouses I tried to combine with the pantsuit and the skirt. That should work for me.

I've been so anxious about the whole thing, that I'm not aware how early I left my home until I find myself standing in front of the -obviously- closed gallery.

Asshole: Good luck today!

Asshole: Don't be late

Me: That won't be a problem

As I say that, I take a pic of the entrance of the establishment. I know Jungkook is laughing his ass off as soon as he sees the pic, and he confirms it when he sends me a GIF of a person spilling her drink out of her mouth. I mean, it's not a reaction I wouldn't expect. I'm not laughing because I'm the one in this situation, but if it had been him or Tam, I'd be cackling right now.

After two minutes, he sends me a pic of him at the studio. He's posing in front of the mirror, pouting to make his lip ring completely visible.

Me: I like the beanie

Asshole: Just the beanie?

Asshole: What about what's under it?

Me: Your hair? I can't see it

I see him typing something and send in something, but I barely have time to read what he sent before someone gets my attention. When I look up, Jin is giving me a tiny smile, looking confused as to what I'm doing here thirty minutes earlier.

—I thought we had the interview at eleven.

—Yeah, I'm just a bit earlier —I answer nervously.

—You could've called me. I would've come earlier, too —he mentions, concerned over the fact that I've been waiting for him.

—Oh my god. Of course not —I shake my head—. I haven't been here for so long either.

Jin takes a set of keys out of his wasted jeans, and opens up the door for me, waving his hand so I go in first. He allows me to look around the gallery, calming my curiosity by checking some of the contemporary art displayed here.

—Did you bring the resume?

—Yup —I hand him the transparent folder—, although there isn't much to see in it.

After being rejected so many times, I know how important it is to be honest and real to myself. It'll save us time and energy.

—What happened to your hand? —he asks when he notices the bandage going from my knuckles to my wrist.

—Long story —I chuckle.

Jin reads through the resume, but closes it quite fast, placing his eyes back on me.

—So, since there isn't much to see in your resume, why don't you tell me what I need to know?

I turn to him, catching him with both of his hands on his back, while he walks to me calmly. He isn't smiling, but I still can't catch a glimpse of seriousness on his face. He's just relaxed.

—I have no experience in this field, I've been rejected left and right ever since I graduated four years ago —I might regret saying all of this in a few minutes—. Magazines, design companies, marketing teams... all showed me the door because I lack experience —tilting my head, I continue—. But here's the thing, I wasn't good at preparing cocktails, I wasn't good at dealing with customers, yet I made a big effort to give my best in all my jobs. Experience is important, sure. But so is motivation and flexibility.

—I agree —he nods, standing next to me—. I think honesty is really important, too. And you have it.

—Probably because I've gone through too many useless questions that end up nowhere —I nervously laugh.

—My previous art dealer didn't finish his degree on graphic design —he mentions—. Yet he applied, and got away with it because he showed passion and desire to work on this —he gives me a tiny smile, before turning to the drawing in front of us—. What do you think of this?

I look at it as well, paying attention to the three figures on the canvas. The one in between is more blurred, while the other two are crystal clear -one of them painted with brighter colors than the other.

—I think it represents the three views of the artist —I start—. The most colorful one being the image everyone has of him, and also being the one he wants to give more potential to. The darker one being the vision he has of himself, and that he hates —I point to the one in the middle—. And the blurred one being the reality, the real image no one, not even the own artist, seems to want to acknowledge.

—Impressive —he simply says.

Not really.

—Why should I buy it?

—I think it'll look good with that fancy white leather couch in your living room, and your ninety inches long TV —I joke—. Someone driven by art won't ask why they should buy it, they'll relate to the concept and choose whether they want it to be attached to their day to day or not —I simply shrug, driving the conversation back to its serious route.

He curves his lips down as he nods, smiling at my words. He hands me back the transparent folder with my resume in it.

—The salary will be forty grand per year, plus commissions —he mentions it as if it weren't as serious—. Will you be able to make it to the 12th of next week?

Does that mean what I think it does?

—But come here a day before to sign the contract, at eleven —he turns to me, raising his eyebrows as an attempt to get a response from me—. Y/n?

He's barely able to pronounce my full name before I wrap my arms around him, and shout a loud "Yes!". It's not until I don't feel any kind of reciprocation that I realize what I'm doing. I step back fast, stretching his hand effusively.

—I promise you won't regret this, Jin .

—I know —he nods—. I'll need your email to send you all the information necessary to write the contract. Please, send it as soon as possible.

✸ ✸ ✸

—Cheers! —Melanie shouts, holding her shot up high.

—Cheers! —the rest of us scream.

Just like I promised Tammy, I invite them all to a round of shots. Even if it's in the bar, and not the fancy club I would've wanted to go to.

—Sorry about yesterday —I mention—. I left you here with everything that was going on.

—You were literally bleeding —she smacks my side—. Don't be dumb, and just enjoy your moment.

—How's your hand doing by the way? —Soo asks, pointed at the bandage.

—It hurts, but I guess it's okay —I shrug—. The doctor said I shouldn't do extreme moves until it heals. I'll have the stitches for a few days though.

—Yet here you are —Tammy scolds me.

—Sorry for having to pay my bills —I pretend to be offended—. Also Jim asked me to come these two days until he finds someone else. So probably by tomorrow he'll be hiring someone new.

I see Tammy pouting, before she wraps her arms around my neck, forcing me to bend over her body and hide my face on his neck -and hair.

—I'm gonna miss you a lot.

—You're acting as if we weren't going to see each other ever again.

—But it won't be the same —he squeezes my body.

I wish I were exaggerating, but the rest of the shift went on like this -even after Melanie and Soo left. I know she's happy for me, I know she's excited, but it'll be a big change. We're so used to seeing each other almost every day, that it'll be weird to be apart and work in different places.

Once it's over, I convince her to leave first by saying I'll pick up what's left by myself. Tammy insists on helping me, but she ends up giving in when I tell her I wanted to make up for what happened last night.

The truth though...

Jungkook sent me a text while I was with the girls, and said he'd come to pick me up when I'm done with my shift. We kept arguing back and forth. For nothing, because as usual I ended up giving in. Not that I'm extremely bothered either, because just today I saw the stars more than once on my way to the gallery, because I kept hitting things and people on the bus.

Maybe I shouldn't have told him that.

My mental rant gets interrupted when a pair of hands cover my eyes, and my first reaction after what happened yesterday is to move my elbow back and hit the person with it.

—Shit, cocktease —his voice sounds drowned.

—Oh my god, sorry —I turn to him—. I thought it was someone else.

—I told you I was coming to pick you up, who else would be coming here?

—Anyone? The door was open.

I move my hands over his bent over body, unsure of where to touch to comfort him. I finally land them on his back, moving my palm up and down over his jacket while I wait for him to recover.

—I'm sorry —I genuinely apologize.

—You should kiss it better if you really are —he finally lifts his head, showing me a funny smile.

—Asshole —I hit his arm when he's fully back at the same height as me.

—I was kidding —Jungkook grimaces—, not really. Do you have something else to do here?

—Just moving those boxes to the backstore —I point to the boxes of beer near the door.

Jungkook doesn't even let me finish before he's walking towards the boxes, to pick them up and place them where I told him. When he's back, he only finds me with my arms crossed over my chest.

—I could've done that.

—Oh right, I forgot The Rock almost broke my ribs five minutes ago —he mocks me.

I chuckle when he says that, picking up my things behind the counter so we can both leave. And it's all going good, I'm mentally prepared to avoid the pain in the palm of my hand when I grab him. But he hops on the motorbike in a way I can't understand, because he's sitting where I should be sitting. His palm claps over the leather seat, so I take the only place that's free.

—This is an awful idea —I warn him as I walk to him.

—Just trust me.

I hop on the motorbike, being for the first time so near the handlebar that it's making me dizzy. I feel my hair being moved to the side, and through the rear view mirror I can see him smirk when he's aware of how my back arches slightly to his touch. His hands move over my thighs, his fingers digging dangerously in my inner thighs, just to move to my hips and drag my body over the seat as close to the gas tank as possible.

The way his hands felt on my thighs, the slight friction of the seat on my core and now feeling his body totally against me is making my heart race. I'm totally caged between the gas tank and his body right now.

I hold my breath as I feel him moving on my back, picking up my legs by my calves, just to place my feet on the mudguard.

—Legs here, and —he takes my wrists, careful not to hurt my left hand even more— hands here —he places them on the gas tank.

—This is the shittiest idea you've ever had —I remind him.

But he doesn't care. He just adjusts himself closer to me, if possible, with his chin resting on my shoulder -to the point that I can feel his breathing on my cheek and can perfectly see part of his face through the corner of my eye, including that smirk of his- and places his hands on the handlebar.

—Don't move —he starts the engine—, can you do that for me?

I nod slowly, gulping the thick knot of spit that formed in my throat. I know he wants us to get killed somehow, he just isn't telling me.

I'm scared when he gets on the road, I feel so close to having a heart attack as the motorbike starts speeding -even if Jungkook isn't going as fast as he usually does because he wants to be careful with me. The feeling that I'm not holding on to anything, even if my body isn't really able to move an inch by the way Jungkook is positioned, is what scared me the most. I'm not having the slightest of control, not even to hold myself onto something in case something happens. It's all on him.

But slowly the summer breeze hits my face directly, making my hair wave, the sensation of almost being the one driving this, combined with his calming heart pumping on my back... Maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea.

I can't believe I'm even slightly upset when I see us getting closer to my building.

Although neither of us moves an inch, not even when Jungkook has already stopped the engine and set the stand. His breath is burning my right cheek, and it's making me lose any trace of sanity left.

I turn my head to him, taken aback by how close he actually is. We both know I should hop off, but we don't move. Right now it's like we're fighting, and the one who kisses the other first loses.

His hand rests on my thigh, and I'm so close to be the one to lose that I would have if he hadn't opened his mouth.

—Good night, cocktease —he teases me.

His voice makes me blink back to reality, moving my face away and hopping off the bike, just to be stopped by his hand on my wrist.

—I'll pick you up tomorrow to take you to work.

—It's not necessary —I shake my hands in the air—. It'll be just one more day.

—That's why I'll pick you up tomorrow —he smiles without showing his teeth—. Imagine if you fall on the bus or get hit, and your stitches open up —he shakes his head—. I'll take you to work.

—You're impossible —I sigh.

I turn on my feet, just to start walking to my building, but his voice interrupts me after two steps.

—There's no good night kiss?

—Nope.

—Come on —he says a bit louder.

Turning on my feet again is the big mistake I make, because how am I supposed to resist him when he's pouting at me like that?

He smiles wide when I start walking to him again, lips almost ready to get what he was asking for, but he frowns and looks disappointed when I give him a kiss on his cheek instead.

—Seriously?

—For now, yes —I smile at him.

—Y/n, you can't be serious.

—Good night, Kook —I say, as I start walking away from him.

I turn one last time to Jungkook, just to find him still waiting for me to get inside. I wave my hand at him, after fighting with the door -as usual-, with a big smile, just to get a smile and his head shaking in response.

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