"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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Being completely crawsick has you wanting to throw up at the thought of picking up a bottle of liquor ever again. Like a boiled owl, the pain splitting your skull is what wakes you before anything else. Has your eyes squinting in the dimness of your bedroom. Only it isn't your bedroom, is it? My fucking head, even the whispering voice inside your head speaks too loud for your liking, bouncing off the walls of your skull; like letting off a firework in a cubicle. The wedding, right. The most you strain yourself to think about is how you were grabbing a rum and coke before completely surrendering your cognitive function to the alcohol in your system.
Creasing your brows, your mouth is parched as you lay awake, face buried into the pillows. It's hard for you to breathe, but it's okay; hopefully suffocating yourself in the pillows will take you out and rid you of this hangover. No hangovers in heaven. You groan, the noise an immediate flash-bang grenade exploding in your brain, and you roll over until you hit something. That something groans in response, and then you realise.
Jungkook sleeps on his front, inked arm shielding his face from the daylight and from you. His bare shoulders peek out beneath the blanket, it only reaching halfway up his back. How did he..? Right, one bed. You both probably crashed after getting yourselves completely hammered last night. That's it. All you can remember, at least.
Nudging his side with your knee, he groans, head pounding as much as yours. Your throat is way too scratchy to even talk, so you nudge him again, letting out a sigh when he rolls over to stop you from bugging him. He gets more comfy, roaming his hands underneath his pillow as he lets out a sleepy moan.
So, you remember dancing to a Timberlake song, you remember talking to Iseuls' dog ass and her husband who seemed to be the Teletubbies sunshine baby all grown up, then what? Danced for a while.. what else? Your brain is complete TV static, it's as fuzzy as ever. This might actually set an unprecedented record for the worst hangover you've had yet. You curse Jungkook for letting you drink so much.
Your eyes dart to the back of his head when he groans, the pain settling in. His legs stretch first, then his back, and he rolls over towards you, resting a hand on your hip atop the comforter.
"Never. Drinking. Again." He grumbles through a yawn, turning to try out your method — suffocating himself in the plush pillows. His muscles flex as he raises a hand and pushes his fingers through his hair, before he turns to you. Even in the midst of a mind boggling aftermath of bottles on bottles, he still manages to look not completely zombified.
Cheeks puffy, he turns his nose up at you, eyes in a squint, and you hum at him, frown permanently etched onto your face, until the pain subsides, that is.
He's quiet for a minute, then decides to sit himself up against the headboard, groaning as he does so. He rubs his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut and regaining some sort of grip on reality. The fact that he slept in the same bed as you hasn't really settled yet, since you're both groggy post-drunk zombies and all. But his unspoken rules lay shattered, scattered haphazardly across the bed you both lie to yourselves in.
