Gold Dust || JJK

32 - Everythingoes

Faye

"You're fucking gorgeous," he breathes, running his thumb across my bottom lip.

"Thank you, but I need to go now. I'm already late, and the Brazilian despot will go crazy." I give him one last, very long kiss and hop off the car to grab my luggage from the trunk. 

Before I have the chance to leave, Jungkook grabs me by my waist and smashes his lips on mine, sucking in all the air from my lungs. Is this goodbye? See you later? I will miss you? All? As if our history speaks for itself, none of us master the art of speaking.

Not yet. Or maybe we never will. 

Not as we should. Not as the rule book implies. 

But who cares about that? If I love you that means nothing more than throwing dust in someone's eyes, then I don't want that. I'll take the silence of our words as the speech of our feelings.

"If I did not know you any better, I'd think you want me to be late." I joke, rubbing my leg between his thighs.

"If you want me to let you go, you should stop with that before I drag you back in the car and fuck you in the backseat." he kisses my forehead, slapping my ass as I turn around, "Call me if anything happens. I'll be there in a matter of 13 hours."

Yes, the beauty of traveling across the globe by yourself.

I wave him goodbye and hurry up inside, yanking the giant suitcase behind me. Let's see how I will carry it up my stairs once I return home. It's good that the last time I traveled, I made a mental note not to bring so many clothes with me, and now I packed twice as many as before.

Glady, the airport is not crowded since it's almost 10 in the evening, however, I am still fifteen minutes late. I pass by the big glass doors and, to my horror, mister Almeida is exactly near the window, with his eyes fixed on Jungkook's car.

"Good evening," I greet him, hoping he did not witness Jungkook slapping my ass.

"Is that your boyfriend, Ebner?"

"No. I enjoy kissing random taxi drivers who bring me to the airport."

And just like that, I realize, for the millionth time, that I am talking to my boss and should not use sarcasm as my second language. 

Although expecting him to berate something in Brazilian, he looks rather impressed by how I answered and almost disappointed at what a poor job I'd done. Understandable. I could have come up with something smarter.

"I see you are always prepared with some classy banter."

"Well, let's not cast stones from a glass house."

He gives me a quick smirk and returns his attention to the check-in queue like I am nothing but a leaf blowing by. We quickly follow all the necessary procedures and head toward the fancy private jet waiting for us.