Under Your Skin || Jungkook

23

After what feels like forever, I'm able to open the big door and make my way out, finding a dark and long aisle.

I walk around the place. Everything is narrow, except for the moonlight coming through the windows, that's making each of the frames of those be visible on the floor right in front of me with their shadows.

I hear nothing but my heartbeat and my fast breathing as my eyes move around, fast and desperately, as if I were looking for something. I find a white door in the distance, and for some reason I start walking to it. Although I don't know what's behind me, I'm more scared of what could happen if I stayed here.

My hand almost reaches the knob, but something covers my mouth as my body is easily lifted and pulled away from that door.

This is it. There's no way out. Or at least that's what I think as I try to fight back, moving my body desperately and looking up at the male figure holding me close as he tries to keep me still.

Just one small push. Just one step further over the edge, and we both fall.

I jump on the bed before my body touches the ground in my dream. And all the fear and stress disappear as I feel his arms holding me close, his heartbeat setting a relaxing pace on my back, while his thumb plays circles on my side.

—It was just a nightmare —he reassures with a raspy voice—. I'm here. You're safe.

The accelerated pumping in my chest lowers its rhythm with his words and his touch. I'm just able to focus on him, to the point of being able to leave that nightmare behind.

I roll under his embrace, turning my body to face him and find him with his eyes still closed. Jungkook slowly opens them, giving me a tiny smile that make his eyes squint a little.

—Sorry. I always wake you up.

With a sigh, he pulls me closer to his body, hiding my face on his chest while his fingers trail invisible lines all over my back and nape.

—Don't be dumb, cocktease —he breathes in my hair—. Just try to sleep again.

He hugs me tight as he feels my arm wrapping around his waist. Lost in the warmth of his body and his own scent, I close my eyes trying to sleep again.

✸ ✸ ✸

I don't find him in the bed when I wake up, yet the covers are still wrapped around my body as if he hasn't moved. While I'm lost on the sheets, sitting up on the bed, the nightmare replies in my head.

Last week I didn't dream of anything, there was no nightmare. But it's back again, and it's always the same place, the same shadow holding me, the same darkness and the same fear. Nothing ever changes, except for a few things that keep being added to it.

That place seems so familiar, yet I don't remember being there at all. I can't understand why it keeps popping out of nowhere.

—You're awake —he brings me back to reality—. As much as I like how you look in my bed, breakfast's ready.

When I look up at him, I see he's fully dressed already with a pair of worn out jeans and a white t-shirt.

—You could've brought it to bed —I joke, as I lazily get up.

—Who the fuck actually does that? —he frowns, resting his weight on his shoulder against the door frame— Eating in bed is gross. Imagine you spill your juice. Worse: there are toast crumbs all over the sheets.

—That's why people usually use plates for that.

—Note it up here —he points cutely to my forehead—: do not ever bring me breakfast to bed.