Aftertaste | J.JK

His Favorite Scent

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I'm currently in the process of breaking every single rule my mother had basically ever made for me, disobeying every order she'd given me.

But my mother wasn't here, and although every part that my mother had ever planted in my head screamed to shut the door in this boy's face, the Elle in me didn't want that.

And I was Elle, so I was going to be Elle.

Jungkook looks even more better closer than in the window, tall and broad-shouldered even though the face he carries is soft and innocent.

He's paler than the average Korean, which somehow makes his doe eyes look more enticing. And my opinions of him get even better when I hear his voice.

"Hello, Elle."

I don't think my name had ever sounded so beautiful.

He looks curious at the multiple protective doors, and I breathe nervously.

Here goes.

"Um, there's a reason why," My breath catches in my throat, and he looks down at me with wide eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, Elle Sierra.

"There's a reason for all those doors and why I couldn't open the window," I start, my voice slightly trembling from the anxiety. "I'm deathly allergic to the air outside. The air you're breathing right now is actually tightly controlled- contaminant free air."

I look up nervously, unconsciously fidgeting with my hands as I struggle to meet his gaze.

A couple painful seconds pass, and I begin to regret every life decision I've made.

I shouldn't have let him come here.

I shouldn't have said anything.

"That's fine."

Jungkook says casually. When he puts a hand on my shoulder for comfort, he suddenly flinches so hard that I whip to him with surprise.

He looks shocked himself. Like he didn't know he'd do that.

"I-I'm so sorry," He stutters, his calm demeanor completely gone. His eyes flash to my neck before he turns away, taking deep breaths for whatever reason.

My head tilts in curiosity. Were my clothes static?

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." The smile is back on his face, although I don't see as much genuine anymore. He still looks a bit dazed as he chews on his lip.

"You don't look okay."

"Sorry," He apologizes, even though I hadn't meant in that way at all. "It's just that you smell amaz-"

He slams a hand over his lips so forcefully that his head jerks back a little bit. I giggle, flattered by both the fact that he thought I smelled nice and how anyone could be so attractively innocent.

"Really?" I say teasingly to his blushed cheeks, his hand still tightly clamped over the bottom half of his face. "I just used lavender shampoo today, so-"

"No."

His denial is so firm that it takes me aback.

"Gardenia. Definitely gardenia."

It makes me laugh how he can somehow manage to sound so serious describing such a light topic.

"Now I wish I knew how gardenia smelled like. Is that a type of flower?"