방탄소년단
His large hand pressed against her back, bringing her wilted figure up to his, chest to chest.
"You're the girl that other guys wish for." Jungkook's lips sketched themselves over her boiling cheek, leading up to her ear. "I'm other guys, by...
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Devora had entered the gates of seventh heaven ever since she saw Jungkook for the weekend.
His name never left her mind. It proceeded to wander— the thought of his addicting obsidian narrowed eyes that perforated her heart, leaving her with the feeling of being profoundly intoxicated.
Easily swoon by his delicate touch, flustered by his provoking comments.
Jungkook was just hard to forget.
His engaging personality and infectious laugh was something that made her knees wobble among admiration and modesty, smoky lilted voice repeating over and over again in her mind as if it were a scratched-up disk.
Excitement stirred up in her chest, learning that the other members would be arriving at Hoseok's for a small meeting.
That meant, she was going to see Jungkook and they would be going through their idea of spending time together as they had spoken about during their hangout.
Keeping her enthusiasm concealed was probably the most difficult task, Devora really wanted to skip around the office and hum the tune of her favorite song.
She knew she had just seen him no less than forty-eight hours ago, but she couldn't help it when he practically went tyrant over her mind — pushing everything else out of the way, making himself the star in her thoughts.
"Dev?!" Hoseok's singsong voice implored itself into her chain of reflection. "Could you make sure you get to answer those emails I told you about a couple of days ago?"
Devora looked over her left shoulder, finding Hobi's head sticking out from his door with a pleasant grin.
He seemed different.
"Of course, I'll make note of that."
A good different.
"Oh, Hoseok... are you feeling any better? I know last week was stressful, but you're feeling better, right?"
"Yeah! I just fell out of rhythm last week, it's nothing to worry about." His unreadable eyes scattered elsewhere when he responded. "Thank you for asking."
Just a moment after his response, the door to the office was open, revealing six well-known men walking in.
They were all carrying this positive ambiance with them, shoulders broad and filled with confidence as they passed by desks. Leaving behind trails of their bold scented cologne that they spritzed on the same morning.
Each of their hair was always done so precisely, almost as if they had professional stylists doing it for them.
Including their clothes, they always wore pristine attire that made them appear so autocratic and flippant to those who dared waste their time.
