42: One Minute

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Jungkook's face is a startling shade of tomorrow red, mixed with a dash of fire truck, and his eyes are as big as you've ever seen them. If he presses his lips together any harder, his lip rings are going to fly off and ping off of the walls like pinballs.

You take these factors to mean that he might be a tiny, little bit pissed off.

Through gritted teeth, he questions in a gritty, raspy voice, "Who?"

You really don't want to answer that.

The scene of interest has totally slipped your mind until now: that fated moment where Jimin, thinking that you were Jungkook's chosen girl, had pressed his lips to yours in more of a sign of familial welcome than one of sexual desire.

Obviously, Jungkook's forgotten as well.

"Just someone. No one, really," you try to divert, leaning back against the back of the couch with one shoulder in a move meant to be casual and dismissive. Jungkook reads your body language, but the narrowing of his eyes signals to you that he doesn't believe it.

Just like you could see the lie in his eyes, he can see it in yours.

"Song Y/N, I'm going to repeat this one more time. Who?" At the look in his eyes, you think of Jimin's sweet, soft smile and hope that he's somewhere safe, happy, and not being stalked by your father's men.

Because goodness knows he won't be safe when he comes back here.

"It was really just a misunderstanding, okay? Not even a real kiss." Pausing mid-sentence, you decide that you're going to make a verbal run for it just to get it out of the way. "ImeantechnicallyitwaskindofyourfaultbecauseyougavemethetatooandthenJiminthoughtiwasyourtrueloveandhekissedmeoutofjoyandthen-"

The black-haired man goes rigid in his seat. "Did you just say Jimin?"

Eek. "No, nope, I don't think so. You must be hearing things." Nervous laughter bubbles out of you like mist out of a champagne bottle.

Jungkook holds up a halting hand, his head dipping and his eyes closing in a
dramatized considering way. He captures his right lip ring between white teeth for a moment, releasing the metal from the clasp of his mouth as he speaks. "So what you're telling me right now that you've already had your first kiss?"

"Technically, yes."

His teeth grind together so hard that you're a little scared they'll break. "And it was with Jimin hyung?"

Hmm, did you say that?

Grimacing, you send up a small prayer for Jimin's sake, relinquish a slow, reluctant nod, and wait with stilled breath for Jungkook's reaction.

His lips part, drawing in a soft breath, and his eyelids close over the black beneath, hiding from you any emotional output they could have. His hand, which was fisted tightly around the edge of the couch cushion, relaxes.

He's bottling up his emotions, keeping them tightly under wraps as he processes them.

That makes you incredibly nervous.

Jungkook's eyes flash open, black and totally composed. His hands suddenly dart out and clasp yours tightly, leaving you no room to escape.

He says, "Give me one minute."

"Pardon?" Confused at the burning look in his eye, you try to tug your hands out of his grasp. 

He won't let you go.

Holy crap, the man's gone crazy.

Jungkook uses his hold on your to slide your unwilling form closer to him across the couch cushions.

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