Name of my Love | on hold

twenty two

Lights off

I collapse on my bed, burying my face in my downy pillow. It smells like me.

I am tired is an understatement. The muscles of my lower limbs are weary from overworking the whole afternoon. Sensing my healing cramps (from Saturday's date,) I couldn't stop myself from getting back to cleaning the mess and dust cumulated over the corners and over the objects and furniture. It's almost eight in the evening and my stomach is growling with hunger, but I don't have the energy to even boil a bowl of water. Cooking is a far cry.

I crawl on my bed, shifting on my stomach, angling for a water bottle on the nightstand. Jungkook is not home yet, he'll be so hungry when he gets back.

"Sky." Taken aback by his sudden voice, I spring on my spot, flipping upright and glancing between him and the nightstand.

"Hmm, yeah?" I ask, now gazing at him, who is stood at the doorway, his side leaning over the doorframe as usually. He hasn't changed yet, and of course didn't ring the bell today, and I've been very absentminded. "You're back?"

He loosens his maroon tie, then unbuttons the top-most button of his white shirt, effusing out a clean exhale. Ugh, he's so hot, especially with a white shirt––why didn't I notice it before? And his forehead is glittery because of the slim layer of teeny-tiny droplets of sweat. It makes everything even more hot. Wait, wait, wait – what's wrong with me? Stop. Sky.

"Skies, you're listening?"

"Ah, yeah?" Okay, what, I'm zoning out?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asks now, a small chuckle follows.

"Am I staring?" I dubiously question, exactly doing the same. What, I'm drooling at him, no. "Sorry."

He smiles, the kind which is too big for his head, a toothy, adoring set of curvatures. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I wanted to let you know that I don't want to miss dinner."

"Actually," I feel guilty now, "I didn't cook–"

"I know, I noticed."

I climb on my knees. "Wait, so do we have to cook...and move..." I trail off, almost in a telltale tone of exhaustion. My knees start to sink in the mattress with my weight.

He half-smirks. "No, I already ordered."

I immediately flare up.  "Thanks."

"No, you should have taken rest." He disapprovingly shakes his head.

"Nothing big."

"Most probably Taehyung would come by in the name of delivery." He informs, shifting his weight on his other foot.

"He works as a delivery boy?" I ask, but then, it comes back; I remember seeing him in a red helmet with a logo of a restaurant on it, he came to deliver me some food on Jungkook's request, a few weeks ago. Jungkook even told me about it.

"Nah, actually, I guess I told you, his mother owns a local restaurant, pretty popular among the folks here, for the authentic Korean cuisine," he says, almost sounding like a model advertising for the same. "So yeah, he'd be here for sure."