"C'mon, a few kisses won't ruin anything."
"That's against the rules, though."
"Rules are meant to be broken."
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
In the midst of your friendship, you realise your insecurities hold you back in more ways than one. A newly heartbroken Jungkook se...
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A part of you is exhilarated at the thought of whoever gets to be loved by Jungkook next. If somebody as average and undeserving as you gets to experience even a fraction of appreciation from him, then surely someone with the kindest of souls will bask in the warm glory of his admiration.
With a heart so big, thinking about it could reduce you to pathetic tears, especially knowing what he's been put through. How he offers a plate of his kindness, and it's been spat back in his face because the seasoning of his love overwhelms too easily. You weren't kidding when Jungkook loves, he loves hard. Total romanticism. Opposing to you almost.
Your love feels like a storm, a tempest of emotions which unfolds as a symphony of nature's elements. It starts as a subtle zephyr, weaving through the fabric of your soul. As time unfolds, it crescendos into a thunderous tornado, twisting and turning through the landscape of your heart.
The lightning strikes of connection illuminate the darkened sky, casting shadows that dance with the intricate rhythm of intimacy. In your emotional storm, one finds shelter in the chaos, discovering the beauty within the unpredictable winds of affection. You don't know who this one is, or who it will be.
Your love is aggressive, hard to the touch, prickly against the skin. It's a cactus, and you fail to understand the heart is a balloon.
☆
Friday is always how you expect it to be, not exactly bustling with customers, yet it's more busy than usual.
Your office has been closed down for renovations, the renovation being a replacement of an old window pane, so you sit in Jimin's work space, one door away from your temporary office your boss had assigned to you for the time being.
Your coworker is perched opposite you at a wooden work desk, few sheets of scribbles and drafts that belong in art museums sit neatly atop the mellow and light coloured work surface.
A small case of pens and pencils sit between you two, and you admire the tidiness Jimin pertains among such a hectic and rugged work environment.
His work ethic, similar to yours still differs in its appearance. You know for a fact your drafts are scattered haphazardly all over your desk, and with a pen behind your ear you're sure to forget where you placed it. However, you both enjoy your job, you just display yourselves in different ways because that's all you are; different.
Midday sun shines through the blinds, peppering kisses on Jimin's dusted blonde hair, he eyes you occasionally as you both sit languidly, and your brain reminds you of what's to come. Shopping. You imagine Jungkook pulling up on his metal stallion, revving twice and yelling 'Get in loser, we're going shopping.'
The thought makes you exhale through your nose, a fleeting noise in the comfortable silence you and Jimin have created. He looks up at you, arches a brow.
