The flat is quiet when I make my way into the kitchen the next morning, groggy from a restless night's sleep, intent on conquering Jungkook's complex coffeemaker. To my surprise, I find a full carafe of coffee in the pot and a shot of espresso beside it. A Post-It note is affixed to the front of the coffeemaker.

Yuri-

Sorry for being a dreadful host yesterday. Not sure if you're a coffee drinker, but help yourself. There's tea in the cupboard if you prefer. I'll be back around 11. Would love to show you around if you're up to it.

-Jungkook

The thoughtfulness of his gesture brings a smile to my face as I grab the mug he left out and pour myself a cup of the coffee. I add a bit of milk and hunt through his cabinets for sugar, finally locating it behind a spice rack.

As I'm stirring the coffee, a redheaded woman stumbles into the kitchen, wearing what can only be one of Jungkook's button-down shirts, which she's conveniently left unbuttoned, and a pair of nearly see-through panties. She's pretty, though I imagine when she's all made up, she's probably strikingly beautiful.

"Qui es-tu?" she asks, not disguising her annoyance at all.

I cringe inwardly at the thought of making small talk with her, but I decide to play nice. I can see how this might look to her if she's Jungkook's girlfriend and not just a one-night stand. Finding a strange woman in her boyfriend's apartment? Hits a little too close to home now.

I muster what I hope is a bright smile. "Um, hi. I'm Yuri. I'm a friend of Jungkook's grandmother."

She wrinkles her nose and looks me up and down with a scornful expression on her face. My explanation does sound a little ridiculous, I suppose.

"You're a foreigner," she says, as if that makes me infinitely more offensive.

"Ah, yeah, I am. Sulli-that's Jungkook's grandmother-she offered me this flat for a holiday, and well, she must have forgotten that Jungkook lives here now."

The woman looks unconvinced or disinterested, or perhaps both. She sashays past me, and without a word, she snatches the espresso from the counter. The shirt shifts as she does, exposing one of her huge breasts. It doesn't faze her and she leans against the counter, her cool green eyes trained on me.

"My Jungkook has such a big heart. How nice of him to give ye a place to crash for a few days."

Her tone lacks sincerity and her pronoun use is not lost on me. I'm not going to bother to correct her and tell her I'll be staying here a little longer than a few days. I'll leave that to Jungkook.

"I hope we weren't too loud last night," she continues. The demi-tasse cup doesn't hide her smirk as she lifts it to her lips.

"Not at all. I'm going to go shower," I lie as I pick up my coffee and lean past her, tugging the note off the coffeemaker. "It was very nice meeting you." Another lie. I pad back down the hall to my room.

While I'm holed up in there, I decide it's probably a good idea to call Sulli and let her know I'm settled. But it rings and rings and she doesn't pick up. And that's when I remember that it's still the middle of the night there. She must have silenced her phone, as she usually does before bed. I leave her a brief message, thanking her again for the use of her place, but I opt not to mention Jungkook. It's not really the kind of thing to ramble on and on about on a voicemail.

After I drink my coffee and read for a bit, I do wind up showering, and by the time I'm dressed and I've applied a little bit of makeup and pulled my hair back in a simple ponytail, I emerge from my room and find myself alone in the flat. Thankfully Jungkook's girlfriend is gone.

I clean out the coffeemaker, humming quietly to myself as I wash and dry the carafe and clear the dregs from the basket. (Those fancy contraptions never have the paper filters that make for easy clean up.) When I turn back to the sink, I nearly slam into Jungkook.

"Oh! You scared me. I didn't even hear you come in." I press my hand over my leaping heart.

He's back in a suit, this one a deep charcoal gray, with a merlot-colored shirt. It ticks my pulse up another notch. Apparently he just looks fucking irresistible in whatever he wears.

He places one hand on the counter, bending towards me slightly. "I didn't mean to startle you. I tried to be quiet so I could listen to you singing. You have a very lovely voice."

"I wasn't singing." I blush.

"Yeah, you were."

I bite my lip and wipe my hands on my jeans. "You're back early," I say.

"I took care of my business quickly. You got my note, then? Are you up for a tour around the town? Or maybe something else, if you dont fancy history."

"Oh no...I like history. The castle sounds wonderful. Are you sure you don't mind?"

His mouth quirks. "I dont mind at all. I've been looking forward to it. Give me a minute to change and we'll be on our way."

I pace around the kitchen while I wait for him, looking for something else to clean to busy myself, but Jungkook is fast, and a couple of minutes later, he strolls into the kitchen, wearing a long-sleeved cream-colored Henley that clings to him in all the right places and a pair of faded jeans. He grins at me as he slips on a leather jacket.

"All ready, then?"

"Ah, yeah. I guess I should get a jacket?"

"Yeah, there's a bite in the air this morning. And it gets windy on the bike."

"The bike?"

He crosses to a narrow closet near the front hall, and pulls a helmet from a shelf.

"This should fit you alright," he says, offering it to me.

I turn it over in my hands. "A motorcycle?"

He grabs another helmet and his eyes dance. "Got to get in what little time I have left before it gets too cold and I have to put her in storage. You're alright with it?"

"Ah..." Though I've never been on a motorcycle before, I'm not afraid of riding on one. It's something else that makes me wary-him. The idea of sitting behind Jungkook, my body pressed up against his, my arms wrapped tight around him, my cheek resting on that soft leather jacket, inhaling the scent of him...yeah, no. My thighs clench. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

He gives a little nod and shoves his helmet back in the closet, then motions for me to hand mine over.

"It's okay. It's no for everyone. I'll squeeze in a ride later in the week. It's no that far if you didn't mind walking."

I give him a smile, though I feel a little guilty that he presumes my discomfort is about his bike. He waits for me to grab my coat, and as I return, buttoning it up, he gives a playful bow towards the door and offers me his arm. He gazes at me intently, but after a moment, when I haven't moved, he withdraws his arm and opens the door, holding it for me. Murmuring a quiet thanks, I jam my hands into my coat's pockets and step outside as Jungkook locks the flat.

It may be a bit chilly, with the sun not yet at its highest point in the sky, but it's a beautiful fall day. We walk in silence for the first half-mile or so, as I look everywhere, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. I can feel his eyes sporadically shifting to me, but he doesn't say anything, until we come to a bustling intersection and have to stop for traffic.

"So, ah, what is it that you do back home, Yuri?"

"Oh, ah...I'm actually, ah, between jobs right now." I avoid his eyes, feeling a twinge of embarrassment over confessing my unemployment.

He smiles kindly. "So it was fortuitous timing that Gram gave you a push to take a holiday?"

"You could say that." I return his smile.

The exchange is enough to nudge open the lines of communication. We begin to chat as we walk, and Jungkook points out various landmarks. It's impossible not to be drawn in as he talks. He has a way of speaking that makes me feel as if I am the only one in his presence, despite the crowded streets.

"And you see that building over there?" he asks, motioning to a nondescript but classically simple gray-and-white brick-front, with a wrought iron railing and flight of stairs leading downward. "That's mine too," he says modestly, just a trace of pride on his face.

"Yours?"

"Yeah. Dad left me the pub, as well as that building there. Houses some offices and about twenty flats on the upper floors, but the entire ground floor has been converted into a nightclub. It's more of a project for my brother, but I'm doing my best to help get it off the ground. That's where I was this morning, and why I was in London the other morning."

"Wow." It's a lame reaction and I know it, but between my incredulity at his drive and my own insecurity over basically not having a career I feel completely inferior. I'm at a loss for words.

"We've only been open for a month now, but we're doing very well so far. I'll have to bring you by one night."

My throat and chest tighten simultaneously at the thought of being in a dark nightclub with Jungkook, sultry music pulsating, a pleasant buzz from a couple of drinks migrating through our veins, my back flush against his chest as he clutches my hips and we sway together...

Shit. Stop it. He has a girlfriend. You can't afford to think like that.

"Are you a football fan?" he asks, bringing my attention back to him.

"Well I don't dislike sports. My, ah..." I lose my words again, wondering how to avoid bringing up Jackson. "One of my friends is...was a big football fan. He used to schedule his Sundays around the Philadelphia Eagles."

Jungkook laughs and shakes his head, gesturing towards a billboard promoting an upcoming soccer game. "I dont think we're talking about the same sport, Yuri."

"Oh, right." Idiot, I chide myself.

"I dont know if you've seen anything in Korea like the spectacle of a football match. I have to turn away some of the crowd that comes to the pub to watch, or risk getting a citation for violating fire code. But game days are great for business." He motions to the castle looming ahead of us. "Almost there."

"I told you I'd be your guide, so that's what you're gonna get," he says, with a coy smile. I don't offer a protest. None of the elderly tour guides are quite as nice to look at as Jungkook, and I quickly learn that it's better to be on our own schedule, not dealing with the clusters of other tourists trying to stay together with their guided groups.

He knows his history, and his talent with words is on display again, as he recounts details of fierce battles and thrilling victories. I'm struck again by what a natural storyteller he is. I can't take my eyes off of him as he speaks, and I probably miss half the things he's pointing out because I'm so enamored by him.

It's when we're admiring the Crown Jewels that I feel his strong frame closing in on me. When he speaks, his breath tickles my neck and he practically rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Which would it be," he teases, "if you could have any of them?"

"I'm not really a jewelry girl," I offer, studying the extravagant gems.

He bumps my shoulder lightly with his elbow, coaxing me to turn and look at him. "Then you haven't had the right man to spoil you." There's a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"No, that's not it," I reply quickly, though Jackson was definitely not one for lavish gifts. "I guess I just prefer simple things."

Jungkook watches me, a pensive expression on his face, and I feel a little awkward. Judging from his apartment and his two businesses, I don't think he's lacking for money. He probably showers his girlfriend with luxuries. I hope he doesn't think I was insulting him with what I just said.

But he doesn't seem too offended if he is. He gives me a kind smile and asks, "Well, should we go and find a bite to eat? You must be starving."

"I could eat," I concur.

He takes me to a little street café not far from where we are. It's not the kind of deli that I'm accustomed to at home, and I spend several minutes scanning the menu for something that looks familiar, let alone appealing.

"I can order for us, if you'd like," he offers. I acquiesce, but I fight him when it comes to paying for the sandwiches. He concedes, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"Pity the man who tries to go a round with you," he laughs, accepting the bag from the cashier.

We walk across the street into a quaint city park and claim a bench opposite a stone fountain. Jungkook places one sandwich in my hand and unwraps the other. We eat in companionable silence until our sandwiches are gone. As I'm balling up the waxy paper, Jungkook turns my wrist and gently glides his thumb over the cut on my palm.

"How did you do that?" His thumb traces the curve of the wound again. His eyes bore into mine, waiting for my explanation. That fluttering sensation spreads through my abdomen.

"Oh, ah..." I glance down at the cut. It's healing nicely but it's still visible. My chest constricts. When I look back up at Jungkook, the concern on his face almost compels me to tell him the whole truth.

"I, ah, cut it. On a vase that had broken." I'm acutely aware of the fact that he's still holding my hand in his, his thumb delicately caressing the wound. "Your grandmother bandaged it up for me when it happened."

"Yeah, Gram is a right good healer. You're lucky you dont need stitches. Does it hurt?" he asks gruffly.

"Not anymore." There's a breathy cadence to my voice. His eyes fasten to mine, drop to my mouth, and then flit back up again. He licks his lips, his tongue resting on his bottom lip longer than it needs to. He starts to lean in. Panic wells in me, obliterating those pleasant flutters. He's going to kiss me. He can't kiss me.

"I m-met your girlfriend this m-morning," I stammer, just before his lips can land on mine. Shame wells in me, because though I did the right thing, there is a part of me that wanted to let him kiss me. He freezes and draws back, finally letting go of my hand.

"Girlfriend?" he asks. His brows jump and his mouth toys with a smirk. "Oh, you met Lilly."

"I don't know. She didn't give me her name when she was strutting around half naked in one of your shirts, drinking the espresso you made her." I exhale and fold my hands in my lap, hoping he doesn't see them trembling.

I don't mean to sound jealous-and I don't really have a right to give him that impression, especially since I just evaded his attempt to kiss me-but something flickers in his countenance that suggests he heard the trace of envy in my words.

"I made the espresso for you, just like my note said." After a moment he shakes his head and rubs at his jaw. "Lilly is not my girlfriend. She works for us-my brother and me-at the club. She came into the pub last night with her friends. She had too much to drink and I didn't want her going home alone in that condition, cab or no."

He reaches for my hand again, but I flinch and he recoils, visibly hurt.

"I gave her my room. I slept on the couch last night." He pauses, and his voice softens. "Did she make you feel uncomfortable?"

I chew on my bottom lip and shrug. Staring down at the cut arcing across my palm, I expel a long breath. "It's not a big deal. I could see how it might have looked to her, if she was your girlfriend," I explain.

"She said something to you."

"It's nothing, Jungkook. I get it."

"There's nothing to get," he bites back. "She doesn't mean anything to me. She's just a friend. What did she say to you?"

When I don't answer, he shakes his head. "I can assure you, Yuri, she isn't my girlfriend. I dont have anyone in my life right now."

"Okay, I believe you," I say, hoping to dispel some of the tension simmering between us.

"What about you? Is there someone you left at home who's waiting for ye to come back, someone who's missing you?"

My fingers skate over the cut. "No," I say quietly. "If he's missing me, it's his own damn fault."

I can hear Jungkook's steady breathing and feel his gaze on me. I don't want to see pity there, so I keep my eyes trained on my hands and spill all about Gale.

When I finish, Jungkook makes a noise of disgust. "Fucking coward. God Yuri, I'm so sorry you had to find out like that. Only a bloody arsehole would cheat on his woman, and in her own home."

While thinking about what Jackson did to me still invokes my anger, I've been doing a lot of soul-searching since I've been in Kaysersberg. I know that part of that has to do with the man sitting beside me, because in the three days I've known Jungkook, I can say, with a fair amount of guilt, that he's stirred more feelings in me than Jackson ever did. Hell, even Jimin flirting with me last night made me feel more alive, more connected to someone.

"I didn't try very hard," I admit, my eyes still downcast. My breath hitches when Jungkook's finger tips my chin and forces me to look at him.

"Whether or no that's true, it's never okay to cheat. Dont blame yourself. A bastard like that didn't deserve you."

The look that passes between us has my heart stuttering and my insides twisting. A strand of hair whips across my face, and Jungkook's hand meets mine as we both push it away. Neither of us moves for a long moment.

"Well then...we should get back. It's getting late and I told my brother I'd be at the club tonight." His tone grows huskier. "Did you want to come along with me?"

"Oh, ah, no thank you."

"Come, Yuri," he insists. "You can't stay in all by yourself another night. You think that arsehole ex of yours is sitting at home?"

The mere mention of Jackson sparks something in me. Jungkook may be using his name as emotional blackmail, but it does the trick, and I relent.

His smile is radiant. "Let's go then." As he did earlier that morning, he offers me his arm. I swallow past the wild thrum of my pulse, and hesitantly I link my arm through his, resting my hand on his strong upper arm. His leather jacket is buttery soft beneath my fingers. Instinctively, I find myself walking a little closer to him as we set off for his flat.

-

"Yuri! Are ye ready?"

"I'll be right out." I call back.

I wrinkle my nose at my reflection and set down the tube of lip gloss on the counter. Pressing my lips together to set the color on them, I adjust the bust of my dress and give one last glimpse in the mirror. I don't particularly like the dress-I had bought it for Jackson's company Christmas party last year-but it's the sexiest thing I own, short and black with a plunging neckline and thin straps.

Jungkook's back is to me as I enter the kitchen. I tuck my purse under my arm and clear my throat. He turns. The look that crosses his face makes my heart beat faster. His eyes roam up and down my body, and I don't miss the bob of his throat as he swallows.

"You look very beautiful," he says quietly, his voice taut.

"Thank you," I say, fidgeting a little under his intense stare. "Oh, um, I guess I should get a sweater or something?"

He shakes his head. "We can take a cab. You'll be okay for the short time we're outside. The club gets hot, even though we try to keep it cool. You dont need your purse either. You're with me tonight."

I'm a jittery mess on the taxi ride to Jungkook's club. Every time I breathe I inhale the seductive notes of his cologne, and I can feel myself growing warm as I allow myself to indulge in all sorts of fantasies about unzipping the trousers of his grey suit, straddling him, and riding him right there in the back seat of the cab.

I really do need to get laid. And I'm playing with fire having these thoughts about him, because it can't be him who fucks me. While my attraction to him is undeniable, there are just too many reasons why I can't get involved with Jungkook.

His voice shakes me from my reverie as he announces that we've arrived. He opens the door and climbs out, reaching for me. I slide along the back seat, careful to hold the hem of my dress so it doesn't ride up, and I accept his hand. I stumble a little as my feet seek purchase with the sidewalk, and my palm flattens against his firm chest to steady me. His hand covers mine instinctively, and I forget how to breathe for a moment.

"Thanks," I whisper. He nods and steps back hastily, moving to pay the cabbie.

It takes some effort to get inside the club. Jungkook grips my hand tightly and ushers me down the choked stairwell. A simple neon sign above the door proclaims its name: La Prairie. I motion towards it and he has to lean in so close that my mouth nearly grazes his ear when I ask the significance of it.

"When Grams was younger her dad didn't approve of my grandad at first. They used to meet at a dance hall where they could be together without her dad finding out. It was called La Prairie."

"That's sweet that you named it for her," I say.

He grins. "They started it all. Without them I wouldn't be here." He laces his fingers through mine and leads me along the perimeter of the dance floor towards the bar. I immediately recognize the redhead behind the glossy black counter as the woman from Jungkook's apartment. The vulpine smile that had been aimed at him instantly shifts to an icy glare as she spots me. Jungkook doesn't seem to notice; his attention remains on me.

"Can I order for you again?" he asks, almost shyly. I nod and he requests something called a Sapphire Martini. Lilly doesn't look thrilled as she prepares the cocktail and strains it into two martini glasses.

"You're drinking too?" I say, surprised, when he hands me one of the bluish-violet concoctions and keeps one for himself.

"I'm no officially working tonight. Ma cherie" he replies, and carefully clinks his glass against mine. I sip the drink and make a face. It's not bad but it's strong. I'll need to pace myself with these.

He shows me around the club, stopping periodically to introduce me to some of his employees, until we come to a series of private booths near the back of the room. The one we stop beside is clearly only meant for two people. A cushioned bench curves halfway around a small round table. He sets his drink down and takes a seat, looking at me expectantly.

"You're doing it again," he muses, pursing his lips at me.

"Doing what?"

"Looking like you're scared of me." He looks a little like a wounded puppy. To prove that it's not fear that's making me so skittish, I slip onto the bench, settling right beside him.

"Do I seem scared?" I challenge, arching my brows at him.

I don't miss the rapid flicker of his eyes downward. I had felt my dress shift a little as I sat, and I know my right breast is perilously close to slipping out.

His voice drops to a gravelly whisper. "You might want to fix your dress." But he sounds almost pained to be advising me to do so, and he licks his lips.

Whatever it is that's brewing between us needs to be quelled fast. I adjust my dress and take a long gulp of my drink, and then I ask him to tell me how Sulli came to live in Korea if she loves France so much. There's no better way to squash sexual tension than bringing up a guy's grandmother. And it works-mostly. He launches into a lengthy story of his family's ancestry, but somewhere along the line, I start to focus more on his mouth again, and that only serves to get me thinking about what that mouth could do to me.

I'm in the middle of a vivid daydream where he has me spread-eagle on the very table we're seated at, his tongue parting my wet folds, when I hear his name called. My panties are soaked when I snap back to attention and see a man who vaguely resembles Jungkook standing before us.

Jungkook introduces me to his brother and then apologizes for needing to step aside for a bit. They walk off together, their heads bent in serious conversation, and I slump back against the booth, my pulse still racing from my erotic fantasy. I down the rest of my drink and vacate the booth to go for a refill. A pretty blonde bartender hands me my next cocktail and she doesn't question me when I say I'm with Jungkook.

I loiter near the bar, sipping my drink, watching the couples grinding on the dance floor. I find myself swaying slightly to the music. It's never really been my kind of scene, so I'm surprised at how at ease I feel in the club, even with Jungkook nowhere in sight.

"Did you want to dance?"

I glance up. A man towers over me. He's attractive enough, with dark-blond hair and a hulking frame that is squeezed into a pair of jeans and a black V-neck that hugs his toned chest. His accent isn't frensh, but he's definitely European-Danish or Swedish maybe?

"Ah, sure." Jungkook's MIA, and it's just a dance.

"I'm Harry," he calls over the thumping bass of the music.

"Yuri."

"That's a weird name," he says. "Where are you from?"

I bite back a retort at his comment. I'm already starting to regret my decision to give this guy the time of day, but I plaster a smile across my lips and answer, "South Korea."

"Nice. I like Asian girls." He steps closer to me and grins down at me. My fake smile tightens. I definitely didn't make a good choice here.

I'm relieved when the song ends and a deep voice says, "There you are."

I turn and look into an unfamiliar face. His gleaming white teeth nearly blind me, but his smile is far kinder than Harry's, so I play along, letting this new guy lead me to a different part of the dance floor, away from Harry.

"You looked like you needed rescuing," the guy says, tugging me closer to him, as this song is a bit slower, and the dance floor has gotten infinitely more crowded. "I'm Yugeom"

"Yuri. Thanks, yeah I did."

As it turns out, Yugeom is Korean too, and as we dance, we chat amiably. He's kind of a pretty boy, not really my type, but he's nice enough that I allow one song to turn into two. When the third song begins, he plants a hand on my hip and flashes me a smile. I can't say that I'm attracted to him, but I let him leave his hand there as we continue to move together.

Then I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I gasp as I come face to face with Jungkook. His eyes flash as he practically growls, "I'll be cutting in now."

Yugeom protests, "Hey, man, I was-" but Jungkook doesn't let him finish, pulling me flush against him and gripping my hips. He holds me in place with his hands and his dark gaze, completing dismissing Yugeom, who must take the hint, because he mutters a curse and stalks off.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook snarls. His eyes are a darker than I've seen them. A muscle above his jaw ticks furiously.

As much as his hands on me has my body strung like a tightrope wire, and I'm desperate for more of his touch, I struggle to free myself from his grasp.

"What is wrong with you? I was just dancing!" I hiss.

His nostrils flare. "That didn't look like dancing."

"Why do you care if I dance with someone?" I place my hands on my hips and jut my chin up defiantly.

"I care if you dance with someone who is not me. Do you know how I felt when I came out of my office and found you with another man? You're here with me tonight, Yuri-me."

I gawk at him, a maelstrom of emotions whirling through me. "I-I didn't think you meant that I...that we were here, together, like that."

He makes a little noise of exasperation. "Are you blind, Yuri? Have you not seen how I look at you? I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you-and I'm no talking about when I saw you naked in my bedroom. At the airport...do you know how fast I ran to reach that cab at the same time you did, just so I might have the chance to talk to you?"

I can't even process all that he's confessing. It's too much. I shake my head and push through the crush of bodies on the dance floor, sensing Jungkook close on my heels. He grabs my arm as I reach the front of the club, and he drags me into a corridor just to the left of the lounge.

"Why are you running from me?" he asks. The angry, heated Jungkook that grabbed me on the dance floor has vanished and the wounded puppy dog has returned.

"Because," I start, pausing to blow out a breath. "Because we can't do this. You can't want me."

He advances on me, his countenance shifting again. My body responds immediately to the predatory glint in his eyes. I feel my nipples peak against the thin fabric of my dress and damp heat rushes between my thighs. I might as well duck into the women's room and get rid of my panties, because they're pretty much ruined at this point.

He backs me into the wall and places one hand just above my head. "You cant tell me who I can and cant want. I do want you. Half the men in this club tonight want you. You just dont have any idea the effect you have."

I scowl. "Men don't want me. Jackson didn't want me."

Jungkook grunts low in his throat, a scathing smirk on his lips. "Stop worrying about that arsehole. He didn't deserve a woman like you...beautiful, and smart, and sexy. You're better off without him."

My pulse is stuttering in my throat. Blood thunders in my ears. The things he's saying to me are fast undoing me, and I need to regain control of the situation before I do something crazy, like kiss him.

"We can't do this, Jungkook," I say, hearing the tremor in my voice. "You're Sulli's grandson, and-"

"I can assure ye that Grams isn't concerned with who I fuck."

"And I'm just getting out of a relationship...and I'm only here for a couple of weeks," I continue, my chest heaving with each rapid breath I take and each excuse that spools off my tongue. "And we're basically living together, so it's just best that we don't cross that line."

His mouth twists and for a moment I think that he's going to kiss me anyway, but he straightens up and scratches at his jaw.

"I wish you weren't so scared," he says.

"I'm not scared!" I yell, bristling at his accusation.

"You are. Maybe no of me..."

An odd chill slithers down my spine and I have to lower my eyes when Jungkook's expression becomes empathetic bordering on pity. The predator has retreated. Now he's gazing at me like I'm some kind of a wounded animal who needs to be put out of her misery. I feel all of about sixteen years old.

"I understand, Yuri, I do," he says gently. "You're holding back because of what happened with your ex. You're afraid of feeling for someone new. I get that. But you're thinking too much. Sex can be just sex. We could be very good together if you'd let me show you-"

"I think I'd like to go home," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He engages me in a visual stare-down that must last a minute but easily feels like five or ten. The defeat is back in his voice when he finally nods and says, "If that's what you want."

I nod once. "That's what I want."

Neither of us speaks the entire way back to his flat.