I stood at the entrance to her room, the dim yellow lights casting a soft glow. I had a immense urge in me. I could feel my heart racing with anticipation. The door was slightly ajar, a clear invitation from her. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, my mind swirling with thoughts of what was to come.

The separation from her was like the ocean in side me when I drowned-so painfully elaborate.

I've been to her room over and over again. Tonight it was just as usual. Her cupboard stood right infront of the door, the house coat hanging from the hook on the left. Her desk, on the wall adjacent to the door had a little scented candle lit on it. It smelled of vanilla and peonies, same as the first day I ever saw her.

Memories of that day would have never imagined a shower with her. Memories of that day would have never known a Jungkook and an Esmé like today.

I looked around in search on her, my vision slowing adjusting to the darkness. Now I could see the radio on the night stand and her dresser next to that. But where was the lady of my life?

I walked into the room with just enough vibration as if walking on a velvety field of lust green grasses. As in I was in a field of cherry blossoms which smelt of nostalgia.

Approaching the bed, I noticed a figure moving under the sheets. That was a deliberate move to get noticed. With a grin, I pulled the covers back, revealing Y/n lying beneath, her skin glistening with droplets of water and her eyes sparkling with laughter. Her giggles were infectious, and I found myself laughing along with her.

Before I could say anything, she pulled me down for a kiss, her lips warm and insistent against mine. The suddenness of it caught me off guard, but I quickly melted into the embrace, our bodies pressing together, igniting a fire within me. The raw emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, a mix of love, desire, and a profound connection.

"Love," I whispered against her lips, my voice thick with a need that struck me like a needle.

"Kook," she murmured back, her voice sending shivers down my spine.

Our kiss deepened, growing more passionate and urgent. My hands roamed over her body, exploring the contours of her wet, delicate skin. I was gentle, my touch both tender and reverent, as if she were a precious treasure I had finally found. No, she was the precious treasure I had finally found.

Her soft sighs and the way her body responded to my touch fueled my desire.

Our kisses grew more feverish, the world outside our intimate cocoon fading away. I could feel the warmth of her breath, the beat of her heart in sync with mine. The sensations were almost too much to bear, and yet I craved more, needed more.

Her fingers played with my drenched hair while her arms tightened around my neck, shivering to the heat in me.

"Darling," I breathed, my lips brushing against her ear. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of trust and desire. "I am."

Her voice came out in a whisper, the words forming on her tongue and then vaporising on her lips.

With a gentle touch, I guided her to lie back against the pillows. My eyes never left hers as I positioned myself above her, my heart pounding with both excitement and a touch of nervousness. I wanted this to be perfect for her, for us.

In that moment, I took in her beauty, a mesmerizing blend of East and West, a masterpiece crafted by fate. Her father's European heritage had bestowed upon her features that were striking and elegant. Yet, it was her cute Asian charms that adorned her with an undeniable allure. Her eyes, shaped like a beautiful Barbie's, held the warm, rich color of honey, a gaze that could both soothe and ignite my soul.

Her hair was a unique tapestry of hues, a light blackish brown that shimmered with deep auburn red in the right light. It cascaded around her face like a silken waterfall, framing her features with a touch of ethereal grace. Her skin, white and soft, bore the gentle marks of her journey through life-blemishes from childhood acne, folds that spoke of time's passage, yet it radiated the undeniable brightness of youth.

She was not toned like a sculpture; instead, her body was a canvas of natural beauty, unpretentious and real. Her cute little tummy, a delightful curve that stirred a primal desire within me, was a testament to her authenticity. Her body formed rolls like any other woman's, a beautiful testament to her humanity and the life she had lived.

To me, she was poetry in motion, a story I loved reading over and over. Every inch of her was a stanza, every curve a verse that spoke directly to my heart. In a galaxy full of stars, she was my guiding light, the one who shone the brightest. No matter how much more beautiful anyone else could be, in my galaxy, she was the best.

Her presence was a symphony, a melody I never tired of listening to. She was framed perfectly for me, every detail etched into my heart. In her, I saw my past, present, and future, all intertwined in a dance of love and destiny.

"Mon amour," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "You're perfect."

As I gazed into her eyes, I knew that this moment was more than just physical.

I entered her, I moved slowly, carefully, allowing her time to adjust. The initial resistance gave way to a deeper connection, and I paused, sensing her discomfort. I brushed a kiss against her forehead, whispering soothing words.

"Mon amour, just breathe. I'll go slow."

She nodded, her fingers gripping my arms for support. Gradually, I began to move, each motion a blend of pleasure and tenderness. I watched her closely, attuned to every nuance of her expression, ensuring she was comfortable.

Her soft moans filled the room, and I found myself captivated by the sounds she made, the way her body responded to me. The intensity of the moment was heightened by our mutual inexperience, the newness of it all making it even more profound.

"Kook," she gasped, her eyes locking with mine. Her eyes were enough to complete her sentence.

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection and pride. "I know, love. Just let yourself feel."

As I continued to move, I could feel her muscles tense and then relax, slowly adjusting to the rhythm we were creating together. Each time I pushed deeper, her body seemed to mold to mine, drawing me in closer. The sensation of her gripping me, holding me within her, sent waves of pleasure through my entire being.

She was killing me and keeping me from dying.

Her soft whimpers and gasps were intoxicating, and I could see the mixture of pain and pleasure in her eyes as she acclimated to the sensation. It was an intimate dance, our bodies communicating in ways words never could. The way she moved beneath me, her hips rising to meet mine, her fingers digging into my back, spurred me on.

The tension within me built with each movement, every thrust bringing me closer to the edge. Her body responded so perfectly to mine, and I could feel the connection between us deepening with each passing second. The warmth and tightness around me were almost too much to bear, yet I couldn't stop, didn't want to stop.

"Kook," she whispered, her voice a mix of pleading and encouragement.

"I won't, love. I won't," I assured her, my voice husky with emotion.

Our pace quickened, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. Her back arched on me. Our sounds filled the room, a lyrics of passion and desire. I could feel her reaching her peak, her body trembling beneath me as she clung to me, her nails biting into my skin.

The sight of her losing herself in the moment, her eyes rolling back, her mouth open in a silent cry, pushed me over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, I reached my climax, the intense pleasure coursing through me like a tidal wave. The release was shattering, a culmination of our emotions, our connection, and our love.

I held her close, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high. The aftershocks of our passion left us both trembling, and I pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"Mon amour," I whispered, my voice filled with adoration. "You're amazing."

She smiled, her eyes shining with love. "So are you, Kook."

We lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of our shared experience. For me, it was a moment of profound realization: I had found my other half, my love, my everything.

"All this time, I used to think that I'd do it only after I get married,"my voice shook as I gently cleaned ourselves with the very towel she had managed to swipe from me.

"I'm sorry that you couldn't keep your words." Her eyes remained closed yet a gentle curve rested on her lips. Somewhere between the lines, I had learnt to read her. And touching her was the zenith of that.

No, I didn't need to touch her to read her. She was written in no language, she was written in tales. She painted and crafted in artistry and she didn't need someone to be close to her physical proximity to be able to elucidate what her entirety was. She was the art.

"I don't mind losing to you. I am all willing to walk the end of the line if that is what it takes for me to lose."

"But consider it that you did keep your words." She was still undressed but I was doing my best to find out something to put over her. Goddamn these organised people and wherever the hell they keep their things.

"If you say so, then that be." Finally! I managed to pull out a pair of shorts from what looked like a black hole of clothes. And I put on the loose pajamas I had previously don on my hips.

"You know, the first day I read your poetry," she looked up at me as she wore her better set of clothes. "I had decided that if I do marry someone, it has to be you and only you."

I paused. This was much more unexpected than what we just did. I didn't know that she'd loved me for so long.

"Then is it a win-win?" I joked.

"Yes or Yes?"

And as we drifted off to sleep, I knew that this was only the beginning of our beautiful journey together.

"Yes."