𝗥𝗲𝗱 | JJk ✔️

23| The Grim Reaper

There's a stark feeling in my gut, strong as a magnetic drift. I want to see Y/N.

I glance at the side view mirror, watching her small figure standing by the curb—frozen as a spell-bound snowflake.

Her bold eyes are fixed on my car, like she can't believe I just walked away from her. I can't believe I just walked away from her.

In a beat, Y/N twirls around with a jerk, her brown cardigan in the air for a second. I study her closely, curious as a fish until a honk from behind makes me jolt in my seat.

It's only then do I realize the traffic light has been green for a while now. Nevertheless, I don't go straight. I turn my car around recklessly.

There's something about Y/N that doesn't settle right with me. I need to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid.

Quickly, I get off, slamming my car door shut. Turns out, I shut it so aggressively that a malfunctioned buzz beeps through the door. Shit. Yoongi's going to be mad.

The Ferrari isn't mine. It never was. I borrowed it from him. Although now I couldn't care less. Y/N is more important.

The rain, like daggers from the sky, sinks into my two layers of clothing as I jog towards the metro station. Foot splashing against the puddle of water on the stairs, I dodge through the crowd of people. The rain kisses my cheek in distaste.

I should have bought myself an umbrella.

Upon entering the underground subway, I search around for Y/N, finding her black umbrella by a bench. I slouch my shoulders, watching as she smiles at the elderly woman sitting next to her.

Y/N's dark sepia eyes are darting around the place, seeming to catch signs of any changes. Ever since I found her, she's always been that way. Observant.

Though it's fairly dark in here, I stare at the girl with mild enchantment, taking in her curly hair and damp pink cheeks. She tugs a strand of hair behind like she can sense me.

I look away, only to look back. There's something so enticing about her, so rare that I can never stop looking—never stop admiring.  I hate to admit it.

Her face is round, complexion dark and smooth as butter. I could watch this girl forever. When I look back at her, her expression is suddenly white—like she just realized something utterly implausible.

Intrigued, I narrow my eyes.

What are you thinking, Red?

She's so cute.

Though there's a smile on her lips, she's so red I can feel the heat radiate off her. I've seen this before. I've seen her before. I know her so well—like I can predict her. Although it's never been that way.

A long while ago, I knew someone with a similar demeanor—a similar face. Those big flashing eyes and bubbly expression. A dimple on the left cheek. I know her. I just do.

I shut my eyes for a moment. It can't be her, I tell myself. It's simply not. It's impossible.

The light thudding of the tracks breaks me from my trance. I stare as Y/N stands up with her black umbrella over the elderly woman. She places more than half of the umbrella over the woman's head that she's almost drenched.

I roll my eyes, although my jaw goes tight when I watch as Y/N gestures for the old woman to go first. Then I wait for her to follow, but she—she just stands there. Looking.

I swallow at the sight of her drenched collar bone, the way the rainwater drips down to her chest. I lick my lips, looking away embarrassed I let myself imagine her sexually.