All I Want For Christmas / BTS / V / KTH FF

Chapter 5

"You don't have to say that, if you don't mean it," she says trying to look away from him but his hand slides over her jaw, cupping her face, forcing her to keep looking into his beautiful dark eyes.

"I mean it," he says almost in a whisper. Her lips part a little as she tries to take in the air between them, his face so close to hers. She stares hard at his lips so full and soft, as they curl to a slight grin. She notices a little red spot on his otherwise perfect skin, just near his temple, and in a moment she realizes it's blood.

"You're bleeding!" she gasps, reaching her hand up to touch his damp hair, avoiding the spot of blood but lifting his hair to find a wound. He takes her hand by the wrist stopping it.

"I'm OK." He holds her hand above the spot for a long moment as he looks at her, almost staring into her. The intensity of his gaze sends a flash of heat through her body, and she feels as though she has melted just a little at his touch.

"Let me find something to help clean you up." She pulls back from him, struggling to get up and leaving him sitting on the floor watching her, studying her almost in a trance. She walks back to the pile of objects, looking through to find nothing clean, nothing useful. She turns to him, and gets an idea. She untucks her silky dress shirt from her waistband and tries to tear at the fabric to break some off. He realizes what she's doing and he comes out of his trance.

"No, no, don't ruin your shirt, I am ok." She continues to attempt to tear the fabric but isn't able to. "Here, I can use my own shirt, would that make you feel better?" He stands up across from her and begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing a tank top undershirt. He pulls the shirt off completely, exposing his toned stomach muscles, as she stands in awe of him. He puts the button down back on, without closing it and looks up to see her watching him. Her eyes flit away quickly, embarrassed, and he smiles at the sight of her blushing but unable to stop herself from looking back at him. He hands the tank top to her. "Here."

He sits back down on the cardboard as she takes the shirt and follows behind to kneel next to him, wrapping the cloth around her hand as she leans in and brushes one hand through his damp hair, searching for the wound again. She finds the cut, and uses the edge of the shirt in her other hand to gently dab at the blood, removing it, cleaning it, to see if the bleeding will continue. Her face is very close to his and he watches her focus on his wound, concentrating on being as gentle as she can be.

"You're very good at this," he says softly. Her body so close to his that his breath tickles her neck.

"Just call me a girl scout." She bites her lip as she concentrates on wiping the last of the blood from his forehead. He watches her mouth, her lips pink and full, so close to his face. Her body leaning forward on her knees, her shirt untucked messily and the buttons open at the top revealing her long neck.

He slides his hand up around her neck, forcing her to look down into his eyes, he tugs her head down close to his as he reaches his mouth up to her. His lips find hers, his tongue pushing them apart to reach into her mouth and find her wet and willing. The intensity of the moment makes him reach up and grab her head with both hands, pulling her closer to him, kissing her harder. She nearly looses her balance and she pulls her face away from him, using her arm to push his chest back. She catches her breath, and he sits frozen, waiting, his hands still around her head.

"You shouldn't do that," she says and she pulls her body away completely, leaving his arms hanging in the air between them.

"Why not?" He's not use to being pushed back, and he's sure that she wants him.

"Because you don't know me, and you don't really feel anything for me. We were just thrown together, and tomorrow you'll regret it," she says rationally. His pride is wounded and it angers him.

"Look it was your wish for a perfect night with me that brought us here to begin with," he says and it stings her. She knows it's true, but she's also angry he chose to say it now.

"This is definitely not my idea of a perfect night." She stands up, still holding his bloodied tank top, she throws it to the floor.

"But, you want to kiss me," he argues, his voice softer. She looks over at him.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we should. It's like taking advantage of you. If we met in any other circumstance, you wouldn't want to kiss me," she says, being far too rational.

"But, these are the circumstances; we met, we are here, all night, you want me, I want you...". Hearing him say that to her is thrilling, definitely making her tingle in every neglected, forgotten part of her body, but, she fights the urge and shakes her head.

"You'd just resent me tomorrow." She hangs her head, and shivers a little at the cold. He watches her and then reaches his hand out.

"Ok, fine. no kissing. But you're cold, come over and sit with me and warm up. I promise to keep my hands to myself." She glances up at him, wishing she didn't have such a sensible head on her shoulders. Wishing just once to let herself just go along with her feelings, damn the consequences, a little less like her and a tiny bit more like Chloe. But, then, thats exactly why she's in the situation in the first place.

She steps back over to the cardboard, takes his hand and sits beside him. His arm reaches up to wrap around her body and pull her in close to him. She feels the heat coming off his chest from underneath the open shirt front, and feels his hand tracing a circle on her back. She allows herself to wrap her arm around his waist, touching his smooth skin and pulling herself closer to him.

"Where are you from Isabel?" he asks, speaking in a low soft voice as his hand continues it's path over her back.