12| Lil Meow

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You're sprawled over the car's dashboard the second your door slams shut.

There's a flurry of wind gushing through the window the moment Jungkook rams his foot over the accelerator of the car. You grasp the leather seat to prevent yourself from literally flying out the window.

Now that you've gotten a taste of his driving, there's no way in hell you're going driving with him again—no matter the distance. But it wasn't really your choice to begin with. He insisted that you go with him.

Maybe because he thinks you'll try to escape. Or worse, kill someone.

No doubt, the impression you left on him is pretty barbaric, given that he still doesn't trust you. Even after you agreed to be his little pretend girlfriend—Although that didn't last very long.

Skidding recklessly to the right, the car's exhaust blares into your eardrums as it accelerates past a blazing red traffic light.

"Slow the bloody hell down!" You scream, voice entirely muffled by the thundering sound effects the car's generating.

Safety! A little voice squeaks from the back of your brain. You reach out a hand, but the car whisks to the side again, causing you to slam back against the seat. Goddamn.

Turning to the right, you gape at the man beside you who's reckless driving doesn't seem to affect him in the slightest bit.

But when a portion of his face is illuminated by the glare of the sun, you realize he's staring straight ahead as if trying to murder the road.

From where you're angled, his jawline is sharp as ever, his jet black hair flapping lightly with the wind to expose seconds of his sweaty forehead.

Goddamn, he looks hot as ever.

You look away, only to stare back at him glaring at the rearview mirror. His twilight eyes sparkle with anger that makes you anxiously ask him, "What is it?"

Your answer is in the form of a loud bang colliding with the back bumper of the car. The impact propels your body forward, forehead ramming against the dashboard of the car with a thud.

"Holy mother of—"

"Did Sam say something to you?" Jungkook questions suddenly. His voice is stern—too stern for a very irrelevant question that makes you turn to glare at him.

"I almost cracked my freaking head open and you're worried about—" Wham!

Another bang crashes the bumper. You squeeze your eyes shut, awaiting the impact that'll ram your forehead against the dashboard again, and maybe knock you out this round.

But it doesn't. Thankfully, it doesn't.

At an unbelievable speed, Jungkook's arm strikes across your breast to defend your posture from forcing against the front. His hand brushes your breast and you nearly faint.

Fucking shit.

It doesn't linger there, though. You smack his hand right off your chest, scowling at him through a ripe tomato face.

"What do you think you're doing?" You snap, then press your lips together when you realize Jungkook's face is slightly pale.

You stop yourself from cursing at him. When clearly, what he did was solely for the purpose of saving your head.

Jungkook's hand finds its way back to the steering wheel where he steers once again to the left, the car fishtailing on his command. Then he presses hard on the accelerator, zooming past another flaring red light.

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