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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087
There was something so incredibly enchanting about the song.
His singing voice was soft to the ear, perhaps as soft as petals from a plum blossom, and as pretty as one, too.
It was as if a honeycomb took the form of a beatific voice, smooth and so sweet.
Jungkook's singing was akin to his warmhearted persona — standing benign, any person who gave his voice a listen would be bewitched, trapped within a trance that his balletic voice created.
It was a trance that was comparable to the seventh heaven, never wanting the song to stop, replaying it before it hit its end mark. Before his voice faded away — grasping on to it, and pulling it towards you, again and again.
All to maintain in this gratifying fluffy cloud his voice formed.
His words were constructed in utter particular and convoluted detail, this much was translucent.
Devora gave the song her absorbed concentration, completely forgetting to keep watch on the door behind her. Only concentrated on the cooing voice, falling to it, along with his pleasant lyrics.
He was speaking about their relationship, how much he yearned for Devora and longed for the day they would see one another.
See one another without the regretful and cruel feelings, to be able to see each other like how they normally did before the debacle occurred, the one that tore apart their relationship.
Devora's fallen tears went unrecognized until she felt them stroll toward her chin, aiming to fall on her lap.
The song didn't feel like four minutes, it felt shorter. She wanted more of it, careless if it seemed acquisitive.
However, she couldn't help but feel so immoral. This song he created had his bare emotions, his voice that he never showed anyone.
The voice that only he gave a listen to, evaluating it himself with no other person there to construct an opinion to that.
Once the music entirely stopped, Devora stayed put for a moment, her incisive and logical thoughts telling her to exit the tab, and put everything to rest.
This song and the lyrics pointed her mind in a direction that she, truthfully, never wanted to acknowledge.
She still loved him. Very much.
She always had, but her sore emotions appointed this brume in her mind that caused her to go blind for a prolonged period.
Devora sighed, her left hand coursing through her hair, trying to console her impulsive crying session.
Then, there was the sound of a door opening.
She had never moved quicker, whipping her head over her shoulder to see if Jungkook was standing by the door.
