𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 & 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 ➳ BTS [✓]

facetime

12:03AM

Looking down at my failed latte once a-freaking-gain I grunt and sigh out, before looking at the small clock standing on the kitchen counter.

Why am I practicing my latte art at 12 in the night?

I shake my head at myself and huff out, blowing away the loose strands of hair hanging down in my face. Chanwook would make so much fun of me if he saw me sweating, trying to master a simple latte — I can practically see him laughing.

I plump down on the wooden chair at the table and rub my eyes. I'm meeting at 8AM tomorrow morning and I'm going to nail this freaking latte if it's the last thing I do.

Jumping up, my phone startles me on the table — the screen lights up and makes my brows furrow in surprise.

Jungkook is calling me.

With FaceTime. Fuck!

Sprinting to the nearest mirror I check myself out and realize that — this is not fixable.
The phone is still vibrating and before I know it I'm stupid enough to press that damn green button. The phone is still on the table, and I'm placed firmly in the chair again, making sure my face is nowhere to be seen on the camera.

"That's a nice ceiling."

How does he do that? He compliments my ceiling and I swear my fucking heart skips a beat.

Jungkook chuckles at my silence, and before I know it he fumbles with his phone and turn the camera sideways, his gorgeous face displaying on the small device. But damn it's enough for me to run out of air to breathe.

He's literally adjusting the camera, but I catch myself drool a little and quickly straighten up in my seat.

"Uhm yeah — I'm not at my best right now, you could say." I stammer, leading my hands to cup my warm cheeks.

What is wrong with me?

"Come on. I bet you look really good, especially at this time of the day. Did I wake you up?" His voice teases, the delicate sound soothing to my ears.

I smile to myself and decide to show him how I look at 12AM in the night.
"You didn't. I was actually making coffee." I smile and frown as I see my reflection in the phone that's leaning on the milk carton.

Regretting immediatly. Abort mission!

But before I can protest, Jungkook's eyes makes me freeze — almost as if he captures me, making me hold my pose. That's his effect on me. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip swiftly, making me sigh in pleasement.

"Mira, you still look fucking amazing. I wouldn't mind you next to me right now." His voice lowers, his eyes sparkling. I hold my breath and smile a little, darting my eyes from the screen.

"You look pretty neat yourself, Jeon Jungkook." I force out, making him chuckle lightly. We stare at each other for a few seconds, enjoying the presence of one another.

"Why did you call me at this hour?" I then say, scratching the back of my neck, nuzzling the wild strands of hair I have there.

He smirks a little, licking his lips again and I mentally curse.

"I wanted to see you. I was thinking about you."

He's flirting with me.

I nibble on my bottom lip, leaning in on the table, placing my head on my hand.

"You were thinking about me?" I ask innocently, smirking back at him — I know how to play this game as well.

"Yes. A lot." He breathes out, his voice almost a husk by now. He pushes his tongue at the side of his cheek and clench his jaw. I breathe out, stunned by his appearance, the dark brown eyes making my breath halt, his toned biceps in that t-shirt and the dark ink splattered on his arms.

Yes, he's so hot.

"And if you lean in more, I won't be able to control myself with that perfect cleavage of yours."

My lips part at his statement, and I watch him as I lean in further, displaying my surprisingly good-looking cleavage to him.
I watch his Adam apple bop as he bites his lower lip, impatiently.

I suddenly feel brave and lead my fingertips to the top of my flannel shirt and open up two more buttons.

"Whoops." I say and cringe immediatly at myself — I suck at this.

"You're so fucking hot Mira." Jungkook praise me, making me feel comfortable. I've never done anything like this before.

"Take your shirt off. Please." I beg him, biting my lower lip teasingly. He smirks as his hands travel lower and pull at the hem of his black t-shirt. Torturing me, he pulls it over his lean body so slowly and delicate — an approving sound leaves the back of my throat as I see his toned chest and the top of his chiseled abdomen.

Jungkook's lips part at the sound I make and he closes his eyes fast before opening them again.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask him, the inexperienced phone-sex jumping out in me. I swallow thickly as I watch a smirk plaster on his glistening lips that I want to taste so bad.

"Touch yourself."

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