The morning light filtered in through the windows, casting soft shadows on the floor as I slowly woke, the remnants of sleep still clinging to my mind. I felt warm, comfortable—too comfortable. My body was nestled against something solid, and I could hear the steady rhythm of breathing beside me.
For a moment, I forgot where I was.
Then the events from the previous night came rushing back. The movie, the drinks, and Jungkook—carrying me, laying me down in his bed, wrapping me in the sheets. He had held me so naturally, so effortlessly. At the time, I hadn't questioned it. It had felt so right, so safe. But now, in the light of day, the feeling of his body against mine had taken on a different weight.
I pulled my arm out from under the covers, slowly trying to inch away. I didn't want to wake him. I had to go. I had to leave before things got awkward.
But as I moved, I felt his hand on my waist, a firm but gentle grip pulling me back toward him. I froze.
"Where are you going?" Jungkook's voice was low, his tone thick with sleep.
I couldn't help but smile despite the nervous flutter in my chest. "I—I thought I should get up," I mumbled, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks. "I didn't want to disturb you."
"You're not disturbing me," he muttered, tightening his hold around me, pulling me closer. His head shifted, resting against the back of my neck. His breath was warm against my skin, and the simple contact made my heart skip a beat.
"Jungkook…" I whispered, but my voice was barely audible, caught between confusion and something else I couldn't quite place.
"Stay," he murmured, pressing his lips lightly against my skin. "Just a little longer."
I should've pulled away. I should've told him that this wasn't a good idea, that I wasn't sure how I felt about this closeness. But for some reason, I couldn't move. The words didn't come. Instead, I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace fill the empty spaces inside me.
It felt like I was caught in a web of tangled emotions—one that I wasn't sure I wanted to untangle.
"You're a good listener," he said after a moment, his voice muffled by the pillow but still carrying the same warmth. "Always here when I need you."
I couldn't help but smile softly, even though I didn't know what to say. The weight of his words settled in my chest like a slow burn. He trusted me. He trusted me enough to have me in his space, in his bed. But that trust also made me nervous. Because I wasn't sure where that line was anymore. What was this between us? Was it friendship? Or was there something more?
I turned slightly, facing him. His eyes were still closed, but his lips curled into a small, lazy smile as I shifted closer, my face inches away from his.
"You really don't mind me sleeping here?" I asked, trying to make light of the situation, hoping it would ease the tension building in the air.
"No," he replied with a slight chuckle, his hand moving to gently push some stray strands of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. "You can sleep here anytime you want."
The casualness of his words made my heart race. "I don't want to be a bother," I murmured, feeling that familiar tension between us again. It was impossible to ignore. Something was changing—something bigger than just late-night hangouts or motorcycle rides.
"You're not," he replied, his voice suddenly serious. His thumb traced along my jaw, and I couldn't help but close my eyes at the soft sensation. "I like having you around. You're easy to be with."
I opened my eyes to find his face inches away, his gaze intense, focused. It felt like we were teetering on the edge of something, something neither of us was ready to confront. But I couldn't pull away. I didn't want to.
The silence stretched on, and for a moment, I thought he was going to lean in and kiss me. I could feel the tension between us, palpable in the air. But instead, he sighed, pulling away slightly.
"Guess I should get up," he said, clearly not wanting to break the moment completely. He gently untangled himself from me and climbed out of bed, though I could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on me. "But first, you want some breakfast? I make a mean omelette."
I stared at him, momentarily speechless. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but I pushed the feeling aside. "Yeah. I'd love some."
Later, as we sat at the kitchen counter, eating breakfast in a comfortable silence, I couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in the way Jungkook was looking at me. His gaze lingered longer than usual, his smile softer, more knowing. I felt like he could read me, like he could see the things I was trying to hide.
"Are you okay?" he asked, breaking the silence, his voice unexpectedly soft. "You seem… distracted."
I paused, the question catching me off guard. Was I that obvious? I shook my head quickly, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
Jungkook didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he slid off his stool and walked over to the counter, grabbing two cups of coffee. "I was thinking," he began, handing me a cup. "Why don't we take Bam for a walk later? There's a park near here I think you'd like."
I smiled, accepting the coffee. "That sounds nice."
As the day wore on, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. Being with Jungkook felt like walking a fine line—between friendship, and something I wasn't ready to face. But I didn't want to pull away. I didn't want to stop this connection. Even if I didn't understand it.
The walk with Bam was calming, and I was glad to be outside, the cool air refreshing against my skin. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the world around me, my mind kept drifting back to Jungkook. To the way he looked at me, to the way he made me feel like I was the only person who mattered.
He made me feel alive, in a way that I hadn't in a long time.
And maybe that was the scariest part.
I wasn't sure where this was heading, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't mind.