19

This was one of the top ten worst moments of my life.

I felt like I had committed a crime by elbowing him that hard. To be fair, it looked like a payback for all the training shit he put me through. But seeing his rosy cheekbone bleeding like that? I felt like a villain.

"His cheek is swollen." The nurse observed as she strutted inside with a panic that she didn't need. "Did you two have a spat? Isn't that dating violence?"

I would have laughed. Except that she didn't look like it was a joke. It sounded like an interrogating question. Something HR would ask.

"Not if the person you're dating is a pain in the ass." I rolled my eyes too late. I barely realised that she was serious—mostly because I didn't even rethink what I blurted.

Jungkook smirked at me, folding his arms at his chest. Judgement dripped from his eyes.

"Are you okay with this?" The lady frowned at him, getting increasingly shocked.

"Ew, no." I snapped, offended. "We're not dating. I flung my elbow too hard and he was in the way. I'd turn into a monk before I date him."

"Thank you." Jungkook scoffed and I swear the wires in my head sparked.

The nurse pressed her temples, heading to retrieve some ice. Yeah, nurse, get some for your head too. I sent another glare at Jungkook but his funny bone was on duty, smiling like an asshole masochist in pain.

"No ice." She slammed a tray on the table. A piece of broken ice sat pitifully on it. "Need more. I'll get some from the backup downstairs."

Then her head whipped to us, "Don't touch anything. Not even each other. Especially not each other." She sneered like we were some dumb high schoolers, high on hormones and ready to hump against anything. For goodness sake, I was in my best professional dress! Why would I do something so messy in the middle of the day? Well—that wasn't the point, was it? I mean, I didn't even count the fact that the thing I would be humping against would be a cybersecurity motherboarder.

"Wouldn't even if I was paid to," I muttered under my breath.

"And I'd pay not to." He scoffed.

"Oh, you'd pay?" I shot him a look. "Alright. Sign me a blank cheque this instant." I raised a finger at him.

"Will you do it with me if I don't?" He snapped back and my jaw dropped.

My jaw fucking dropped. "What? Mr Jeon, you're clearly starved of affection to be so blatantly hitting on me. In the infirmary!"

"I think your head is what has been hit on, Miss Kang. I'd recommend a check now that we're in the infirmary." He shrugged.

"Are you calling me mental?" My eyes blew wide, rage surging through my butt and threatening to launch me into space.

"I did not say that." His jaw tightened.

My eyes narrowed. "What else happens when someone's hit on the head?"

"I don't know. Faint, get dizzy, get hurt?" He tried to divert, but no  fucking way was that happening in my surveillance. I knew he called me mental. He called me a piece of maddened crap. That's what he called me. That bastard.

"But you did—"

"That's enough." The nurse shot at us. "You look like this injury was a failed murder attempt." She snarled. "Don't argue until I come back."

Saying so, she rushed out in haste, swift and uninterested in us. The door swung shut and silence fell.

All I could hear was my rage boiling in my ears. But it cooled down when I remained shut for a few seconds.

I tapped my feet, looking around. I folded my arms at my chest and sighed.

This was going to take time. Honestly, I didn't even want to go back to the R&R after all this ruckus. People were probably judging me left, right and centre.

My chance to show off this pretty dress had been wasted. I wished Jong Suk could see me in it. I knew that he would have liked it. He was into all that formal, elegant and classy stuff. He would have said that I looked like a drama auntie. He meant it as a compliment.

My hands pressed against the phone in my hand.

It buzzed and I rushed to check the notification.

Not him.

I felt like a fucking fool waiting like that but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to text first. That would murder my pride. But I'd definitely text if he asked me first. This space was eating me up. I needed some invasion quickly.

I drove my fingers through my hair, glancing at Jungkook. He touched his wound, wincing as he sat on the bed.

Was he cosplaying being pitiful? Didn't suit him.

A bud of blood sprouted from his cheekbone and I felt like a bitch. And I hadn't even done anything that bad—purposely. I bit my lip, trying to look away.

Ice pack, huh?

My eyes fell on the piece of ice on the table. A sort of bulb glowed in my head.

Yeah. This I could do.

I reached for the tray and put it on the table next to the nightstand of his bed. Then, the next step: I opened the back cover of my phone and revealed my emergency safety device.

Jungkook tilted his head, "...is that a pad?"

"Yes." I wrapped the ice in it, making a bunch. My voice was tight with pride as if I was a nurse in a warzone or something. And I might be. "Quick. Revolutionary. Multipurpose."

I knew this stuff. Unfortunately. I mean, I was a mouthy brat to Jong Suk's mom all the time. So I kept this for emergencies.

Jungkook looked at the pad and then at me. We blinked at each other.

"It does soak blood. Efficient work, Miss Kang." He sneered.

"If you're scared just say it. You don't have to be macho about everything." I said, holding it closer to his face but he leaned back a little.

"Why does it have a fragrance?" He scowled, sizing the little white thing up.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh god. Do you really want to know?"

"Won't be wrong if I do," he shrugged.

My eyes narrowed, teeth tightened. I was going to shove this on his face so hard that he would be blinded by the pain.

"Because," I began and right when he let his guard down, I slid my fingers into the back of his head, pushing him towards me.

He was aghast at first but did not resist. I twisted my fingers into his hair, holding his head in place like I had done this a hundred times before. I hadn't. It felt weirder—a lot more weird—than what I expected. His face was abnormally close. It hurt my eyes a little.

I dabbed the pad as gently as I could.

He smirked, disbelievingly.

I pressed the ice harder on his wound.

"Whoa—" he blurted.

"Stop smirking or else I will beat you with this." I gnarled.

But he couldn't. He continued smirking and biting his tongue to stuff his laughter in. In a way that I knew he wanted to laugh.

His eyes hovered over my face. I pretended that I didn't want to punch some sense into him. I tried so hard that Linkin Park started playing in my head.

"You're...surprisingly gentle."

"Abnormal for a mental case, right?" I muttered, pressing harder than needed.

This time only his eyes flickered. He was fucking prepared. Hah.

Once I was sure that the wound was cleaned, I nodded, satisfied and let him go.

"...you do this a lot?" He asked, watching me discard the waste into the bin kept aside.

I blinked at him and then forced a smile. "I am a mouthy brat. Of course, I know."

His eyes grew narrower, "As in, you get beat up?"

"Do I look like I'll just stand there and take it?" I scoffed. "I hit them back too. Plus, sanitary pads aren't just for the wounds on the face, you know? Their main purpose is for my downstairs."

"Downstairs." He mocked and then chuckled like something about it was funny.

"Why? Is menstruation funny to you?" I snapped. "Or are you one of those people who think it's taboo?"

"Why would I?" He rested his hands behind him, leaning back to relax. "I just think you referring to it as downstairs is very childish."

"Should I tell the HR what you're into?" I spat. "Don't try to act smart, Mr Jeon."

"Don't twist my words now," he sweetly pressed further as if he were talking to a child. My brain did a karate move, begging my body to use it on him. But who wanted to jeopardize their career for this mean asshole.

"You think you didn't." I headed towards him. "Should we get your brain checked while we're at the infirmary?"

He smirked. Again. "Let's check your mouth while we're at it."

"You—"

"I've got the ice." The nurse rushed in through the door with a tray of said ice. We stared at it pathetically. Her eyes darted to us suspiciously. Then, she turned and began preparing the pack of ice.

"You just got saved," I whispered to him, squinting mockingly.

He continued smirking, his cheek still bleeding, the pad still working.

Something throbbed in my head when I looked at him again. And I knew that I had to get out of there as if the room was crawling with insects. And I did.

I walked out of there, grabbed a few bars of chocolate from the vendi, even though I had promised myself I wouldn't be a trash human being, and then found myself some pretty stairs outside the infirmary building to sit on.

Not needed. I know.

But I couldn't go back to that press conference of a room. Plus, I had a pretty solid reason for not going back to that R&R event.

Jungkook.

I'd probably say something about how I cared deeply about hurting a senior. Like hell I did.

I unwrapped the bar of chocolate in my hand and it screamed: SUGAR, INFLAMMATION, BLOATING.

But who cared? What was the point of looking good when the one person I wanted to see me wasn't even texting back? He must have broken his fingers or something. Because how long does it even take to type out a fucking hello. We weren't even strangers. All that bullshit he gave me about how we couldn't go back to being strangers after sharing a bed? Gone with the wind or what?

I stuffed the bar of chocolate in my mouth. Sweet elevates the mood so fucking do it, chocolate bar.

My hands instinctively found my phone again.

Bank loan suggestions, my instalment deduction message and a few other offers that could ruin me if I tried.

Nothing from him.

I had a text from that other Jungkook I went on a date with. He was apologising for sending flowers too soon and making it uncomfortable.

Alright. I mean, it wasn't that bad of a move. Had he been someone I liked, that move would have me down on one knee to marry him. Maybe I'm exaggerating but you get the point.

I typed out an acceptance of the apology and assured him that it was fine.

Surprisingly, he was waiting for my text and replied as soon as I did. Creep, maybe?

So I shut my phone and put it on my side on the stairs. This was ridiculous.

I tried to put my chocolate wrapper beside me, hoping to feel concrete. Instead, something warm touched it.

Then, a low grunt and a hard rattle.

Jeon Jungkook's over-the-top, dramatic trip. He caught himself before breaking something else. His head whipped around with that 'I-can't-believe-you're-trying-to-kill-me' look.

Of course. Of course, it was this bastard again.

I should have chosen another spot to sit. This was on me.

His face was patched up now. Some kind of ointment glistened on it.

Good for him.

"Miss Kang," he began, spinning around so fast I thought he was a whirlwind, "bravo to your method of apologising. I'll take that into consideration. I had hoped the tripping game had stopped."

I continued chewing on my chocolate, rolling my eyes. "With all due respect, I hadn't foreseen a blind man game to start, Mr Jeon."

"I am no ninja, Miss Kang." His smile tightened. "I am not blind, but I don't have foresight either."

"Oh, pardon me." I stretched my lips. "I recommend wearing a cowbell next time so that I am aware of your arrival."

He left a quick short breath—maybe a laugh, maybe a sigh, I couldn't tell. Then he turned around, towering over me. I swear this was some kind of evil power play. Because the way he stared me down felt like he was grading me for snacking chocolate bars. But I was no little Miss Muffett and he was no big spider that I'd just be scared of.

"I will keep your recommendation in mind. Appreciate it." He nodded, cracking a knuckle single-handedly.

Hah. My lips twitched and I looked back at the bar in my grip.

Was I getting the last word?

"Although," he started again. "I had presumed that professionals in this building might have some spatial awareness. Not much, just some Y-axis information, they'd know."

My eyes snapped up.

"Not if one throws themselves into others' blind spots." I bit back. "And the y-axis? Touching skylines right now." I grinned.

He smirked but did not look away.

He lowered a step to get at my eye level. Well, he was still taller so it didn't make a difference to me. Maybe he was just dying to leave, who knows? I crossed my legs, afraid of giving him a view that could be classified as workplace pornography. He noticed that and cleared his throat.

"Sweet tooth?"

I shook my head, "Snack break."

"Do you usually snack this much?" He smiled, poking his inner cheek with his tongue.

That was it.

My head snapped up and I frowned. "Mr Jeon you just cannot say a kind word, can you? I can raise this as harassment, you know?"

"Harassment for asking you about what you're eating?" His brow shot up and my spine itched. "I think not."

"Harassment for commenting on how much I eat." I cut in and his eyes widened. "It is not manly of you to comment on a girl's appetite. Girl—woman, whatever." I waved my hand.

"I did not comment on that." He shifted his weight, mouth falling at how quickly I had switched tracks. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't ask me." I scowled, my grip sterning on the bar that I suddenly couldn't eat. "It is very unbecoming—"

"Miss Kang," he stopped me, bending lower to look at my glaring face. "I don't do that. Especially not to girls who look like they've been starved all their lives. Matter of fact, I think you should eat more."

"That's body shaming too." I retorted, the wound on his face making it too distracting. "Why should I eat as per your requirements?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was about to explode. Well, explode, you bitch. How dare he tell me about what I eat?

This little Miss Muffett was going to smack her bowl of whey at the spider. And this time, I won't even take him to the infirmary. Maybe leave him to die here.

Jeon Jungkook looked at me like he was choosing between slamming his head against the railing or jumping off the stairs entirely.

He settled for something worse.

"Next time, don't worry about hurting me, Miss Kang," he said with a tight nod, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You're clearly more skilled at the verbal hits."

Then he turned and walked off.

I blinked at his retreating back.

Did he just backhand compliment me to hell?

"Narcissist," I muttered under my breath. "Walking bandage commercial."

I took one last bite of the chocolate, now guilt-laced and entirely unsatisfying, before stuffing the rest into the wrapper and tossing it into a bin. My phone buzzed again. Hope fluttered in my chest like an idiot.

Not Jong Suk.

A spam call and a text reminder to pay my credit card bill.

Of course. Financial ruin over romantic ruin. Classic.

I clicked open our chat, even though I told myself I wouldn't. Still no reply.

Just that stupid reminder of when he had seen the message.

I stared at the screen for a second too long, then locked my phone and held it like it had betrayed me.

"Whatever," I muttered, standing up and smoothing down my dress. "Not like I was waiting."

My heels clicked against the concrete as I walked back toward the building, my stomach slightly queasy from the chocolate and the embarrassment. Hopefully, the R&R event was almost done. I'd slide back in, nod like I was mentally present, and vanish the moment they said dismissed.

As I reached the corridor leading to the main lounge, I paused.

Jungkook.

His patched-up face was visible from where I stood—clean bandages now, hair slicked back like he was shooting an ad for trauma.

He stood talking to someone from HR.

A woman. Pretty, tall, laughing a little too comfortably.

And worse?

She was touching his shoulder lightly and asking, "Oh my God, what happened to your face?"

Karma for sneaking up on me—that's what happened pretty lady.

I narrowed my eyes.

Was he dramatizing the whole incident? Was he filing a complaint? Would I be in HR's horror log tomorrow morning?

I ducked behind the wall, like a full-grown adult in hiding, trying not to breathe too loudly.

Just in case.

I waited. Hoping she'd leave him alone, and I could pounce on him to interrogate whether he spilled anything detrimental to my career. But she just wouldn't go. And honestly, at that point, I started to pity her vehemently because she obviously didn't know what kind of monster hid inside that perfectly toned body.

Nothing was happening. All I could see was her shifting closer and him politely ignoring her arm twisting around him.

Something came over me like the sudden urge to pee. Maybe it was the fact that he could say something wrong and cost me my reputation. Or maybe just the fact that I had to explain the patch before he did. I jumped out of the corner like an evil cat. My heels clicked and I covered the distance in about five strides.

Jungkook spotted me like a huge bug in the air.

Yeah, right. I was about to bite him to pieces.

Once I arrived at her focal view, the pretty lady turned too.

"Hi." I slid into the conversation like I was the ambassador of it. No point looking at Jungkook now because I could already predict what face he was going to make.

"Oh!" The lady smiled, her lips bright pink and bow-shaped. Perfectly kissable. Like the Cupid's accessory. "You are...?"

"Haerin. Kang Haerin." I swiftly lent out a hand to shake. Her hands were soft. Didn't deserve Jungkook's at all. "I'm—you could say, an acquaintance. And I felt the need to intervene and explain the patch. I know Jungkook won't put me under the bus." I emphasised it dramatically.

I saw equations rising above Jungkook's head from the corner of my eye.

"Oh..." The lady smiled. "Sure. I'm Yoo Mi Na, from Human Resources. It seems you two know each other."

"That's a pretty name." I smiled as pleasantly as I could. "And yes, you can say we're close. Right, Jungkook?"

I looked at him, and his frown deepened. He looked at my elbow touching his arm, and then cleared his throat. "We...do know each other."

Good boy.

"Yes. It was all just a mess. I accidentally elbowed him back there." I tried to chuckle softly, bringing my femininity to power. "I did patch him up but I still feel sorry for it. I didn't mean to. It was all a blur in the Events Hall back there."

"Right..." She glanced at Jungkook, visibly demotivated to talk now that I had appeared. "That's nice."

Definitely not nice.

"Great." She chirped. "Then, see you around, Mr Jeon. And take care."

"I appreciate the concern." Jungkook bowed and I followed suit.

I watched her walk away, her chin high in the air as she floated in the corridor like an angel sent from the heavens. Women are always so pretty. You wouldn't even have to say. Unlike some bastards who were given the roles of being assholes in the human anatomy.

"We're close?" Jungkook turned to me, hands in his pockets. "Close enough that you call me by my first name, Miss Kang? Or should I call you Hae—"

"Close enough to sue me for physical assault," I said, tossing my hair behind my shoulder. "That was just self-defence."

His eyes narrowed, "And the part where you called me by my name?"

"I'm just a fan of The Weeknd." I shrugged. "Don't take it personally. It was in the urgency of the moment."

"You could have explained yourself without the lies about being close." He smirked, clearly enjoying my rebuttals.

I waited to think for a moment and then nodded, with my hands on my hips, "Could have. But I'm not your secretary. I can do what I want, Mr Jeon."

"Sure you can." He poked his tongue in his cheek, smirking again. Like it was some kind of challenge for me.

I didn't wait. I turned on my heel and strutted away.