"I don't share," he growled right into my ear, his heavy breath hitting the base of my throat.
"I'm not yours." I hissed back.
He stepped closer, a smirk appearing on his face like all he was feeling at this moment was amusement. My patience was thi...
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Reva
Jungkook was a hard-working man and no one could deny that reality. Certainly, it wasn't as hard as someone who worked on the construction site for wages so low it was almost ridiculous, but I recognized how emotionally drained he was when he came home every night.
I had seen it when I had visited him at work. The way the line between his eyebrows was almost carved into his skin, how bloodshot his eyes were sometimes. I also knew that none of it was appreciated.
And so in one way, it made me feel better when he had some weekends off and could spend a Saturday to himself. Everyone needed a break every now and then from all that lay on their shoulders. And occasionally, on his Saturday off, we would go out or spend it together.
He was always gone on Sunday mornings. Where he went was a mystery to me and I had never asked. Perhaps he would eventually tell me of his own accord.
And today we were driving in his car to my father's house who had invited us for a family dinner. I couldn't remember the last time I had been there and I was looking forward to spending time together all the more.
Thankfully, any little ice left behind had melted between us. I had never been one to hold a grudge anyway and certainly not towards my father. I knew that everything he did was for me and Rai.
The warm summer air blew in through my open window, making my hair flip slightly. The engine howled as Jungkook turned into a street, quietly navigating the route to my old home.
I looked over at him. "Did you get your hair cut this morning?" I asked, now noticing his freshly trimmed hair.
He nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. An attentive driver, I had to give him that. He ran a hand through his hair, "It was starting to get too long."
I remembered the day we had argued because I had tried to defend him. Over his hair. But I pushed that thought back again.
"At least you're out of your hippie era." I joked softly, leaning my head back against the headrest.
I felt him scowl at me and I giggled even more. "It wasn't that long." He rumbled playfully. Then he added. "At least I don't have gray hair."
I gasped dramatically. "I don't have gray hair!"
"That's because you can't see the back of your head," he said smugly. "Besides, you liked my long hair."
"It covered up your male-patterned baldness." I laughed.
It wasn't long before he joined me. The car filled with our laughter as we didn't seem to last a minute without finding something to tease the other. But I wouldn't trade it for a ride without a single word exchanged.
