Painting Blank (BTS Jeon Jungkook)

8: Flustered

It's now Monday, and I'm still slightly recovering from my hangover that I had Friday night. It amazed me how Hoseok carried me home, but I was thankful to him.

I stand behind my counter with my usual uniform on, and when I see Jungkook come through the elevator, my eyes automatically drift down to the brace on his wrist.

His suit is missing both a tie and a jacket, and I only assume it's because he can't manage it with his injured wrist.

"Woah! What happened?" I walk over to him, and he looks surprised.

"I, uh, I fell and sprained my wrist." He swallows. "The doctor said it should be fine in a couple of weeks."

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask once more, noticing his face becoming red.

Without hesitation, I reach up and touch his cheek with the palm of my hand. "Your face is on fire! Do you have a fever?" My worry grows that he actually might be sick.

"No!" He suddenly snaps, pulling away from my touch. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. If you ask me, I think you should worry about yourself!"

"What's that mean?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"What girl gets drunk and has to be carried home?" He grits and my eyes widen.

"How did you know that?! Are you stalking me?" I give him a shocked look and he dryly laughs.

"No I'm not stalking you!" He snaps back. "Your wacko friend called me and told me to carry you home!"

"You- You're the one who took me home?!" My eyes bulge.

He gives me a pointed look as he nods.

"You didn't try anything with me, did you?" I cross my arms over my chest area, giving him a suspicious look.

"Of course not!" He starts, his face still red. "I- I didn't do anything to you!"

With that, he marches into his office, leaving me standing out alone. I scratch the back of my neck.

Was it just me... or did he look kind of cute while he was blushing? And why is my heart suddenly picking up its pace?

I put my hand over my chest, and sure enough, it's beating faster than usual.

That's weird.

Regardless of my heart having odd spasms, I work like normal. The day goes on, and as per usual there are multiple employees that go in Jungkook's office and come back out.

Secretary Kim approaches my counter, and he smiles when he gets closer to me.

"Miss Sunny, may I ask you for another favor?" He asks, slightly squinting his eyes in nervousness.

"Sure." I chuckle. "What is it?"

"I have to go run errands right quick, and Jungkook is organizing papers on his desk." He informs me. "I was wondering if you could help him for maybe ten minutes? He could do it by himself but his, um, arm isn't in the best condition."

"Say," I lean on the counter with my elbows. "Just what happened to his wrist anyway? How'd he get hurt?"

"I'm not sure," He shakes his head, crossing his arms as well. "He called me Friday night demanding he needed to go to the ER. I didn't ask for the details."

"Friday?" I furrow my eyebrows.

That's the night I passed out and he took me home apparently... He didn't get injured helping me home, did he?

"Anyways," He grins. "I'll leave the papers to you."

With that, I wave at him as he exits in the elevator. My feet tap on the marble as I march to Jungkook's office. I manage to peek at him through the window on the door.

Just as Secretary Kim stated, he's putting papers in the filing cabinet beside his desk. He looks frustrated, and now that I look at him more I can notice his hair in a more disheveled state.

I nearly jump out of my skin when his eyes suddenly look up, meeting my own. I back away from the window, finally mustering up my embarrassing courage to open the door.

"Were you spying on me?" He arrogantly asks and I roll my eyes.

He stops putting papers away and props his elbows on his desk in somewhat of a scolding manner.

"No, I wasn't." I walk up to his desk. "Secretary Kim asked me to help you file the papers, so that's what I'm doing."

"Did he?" He asks once more, and I nod.

"I'll get started then." I smile, reaching for a stack of the papers. When my hand reaches them, however, his hand lands on the top of them, holding them in place.

"That's fine." He states pointedly. "You don't have to help."

"But I want to!" I whine, grabbing the papers by the edge and pulling them.

"I don't need help!" He argues back, grabbing the other side of the papers.

"Just gimme the papers!" The both of us pull at the same time, and it sends the papers flying through the air.

They land everywhere on the desk and the floor, and I sheepishly smile when he sends me a pointed look.

"Nice job." He says sarcastically as he stands and begins one handedly picking up the papers.

I kneel on the ground, picking some up as well and stacking them in my arms. Through my side vision, I can see him slowly inch closer to me, and when I reach for a paper, his hand lands on top of mine.

I turn to look at him, but he's already staring at me. His eyes are soft, and the familiar ashy tone has turned to a coffee color.

For some reason, the touch and gaze makes my heart pick up, and his cold hand sends chills through me.

It's not uncomfortable, though. It's... comforting in a way. Just as quickly as we touched hands, we both pull apart. 

I cough, clearing my mind and standing.

"Sorry... I just wanted to help." I mumble, making the papers in my arms straight. He stands as well.

"No, it's fine." He smiles, handing me the papers he picked up. "I'm sorry about not wanting your help."

Something about his smile is addictive, and I can't help but to send one back.

Is it only me... or is he somewhat sweet?

(A/N)

That's chapter eight everyone! Don't forget to Vote and maybe give a comment! Thank you so much for reading this far!

-Hannah