➪ꏳꀍꍏᖘ 046

I watch as Amonté turns to drive out of the gates that's closed by Gabrielle right thereafter.I wave a small wave in his direction as well, smiling when I receive one back while lowering my hand and turning my back to the gaurd that stood at attention to who entered the grounds and who left them.

He was also my only companion, except Rosalia,the maid that is tasked to take care of the big ass building that I'm currently trying my best to relax in.

I've met a lot of new people in the short week I've been here,or rather, I've met almost all of Gabrielle's friends since he bumped my banana shake out of my grip and onto my blue sundress.

I had gaped,quite literally as the cold liquid slid down the front of my body and the material of the— at first light sunny dress coloured a baby blue,—now stuck to my skin as the cooled temperature of the air blew across it.

It was then,that I met Amonte'.

The way we met was amusing,and humiliating all in one,seeing that the fiasco took place in the publicised shopping center.

But at least I'd made a new friend,one who desperately tried to apologise while handing me wet wipes out of the mini bag slung over his shoulder in a fashion that spelled not quite straight not quite gay.

I'd came to find out a day later,after we exchanged numbers for whatever reason,—one I couldn't remember if you'd read between the lines,—I'd discovered that he was indeed not for the ladies, having been in a rush to meet with his boyfriend of three years.

He was on his way to his three year anniversary date.

What a sad life,was what I thought to myself when I came to find solace on a little island along the coast lines of the Greeks,just to have salt thrown in my face at all the lovey dovey couples that resided here.

It hurt a little when I was reminded of what I so easily could've had,but so stupidly lost.

And right now as I travel up the lone staircase,casted in the soft glow of the lights Rosalia left on before she left to her cottage quite the walk from here—I've been with her to meet her husband and they told me all about the life of the married over cookies that she baked,I think the only reason she initially invited me,was because I sulked to her,a stranger at that,of how I came alone and that my friends could hopefully only join me three weeks from now.

The friends being Amori and Jimin,maybe Jinnie and his sugardaddy as well,but the thought of it made me abit nauseous seeing as I would be surrounded with something I couldn't have.

I turn the knob of the door to my room,etched on the third and last floor, entering it to find it cast in the soft glow of moonlight.

The smell of something so faint,so deliriously intoxicating hits my nostrils,and it seems so awfully familiar.

It brings the swarm of butterflies back to my abdomen,and the heat to my ears and neck.

It's smells so much like him.

I knew,I just knew it was his scent,but then again,that would just be my imagination playing cat and mouse with me,again,and it also, simply was not possibly.

Maybe I was just abit too drunk.

Sighing when the nostalgia churns in my chest,the consequences by being reminded of him.My movements are automated as I toe of my sandals—feeling the world do a cartwheel and almost losing my footing because of it.A couple of minutes later,I'm a little more stable enough to loosen the grip from around my hair,removing the cute hoops from my ears,a sweet little gift from the couple I've befriend and that was hell bent on making me drunk every day of the week.

Amonte' and Fabio was quite the lot.

There's a small smile to my face as I stretch my arms above my head, loosening some muscles before I move into my closet to grab one of the softest slips I own, favouring the lavender coloured one before I get myself ready for the shower I was about to take.

A shower that I would no doubt be leaving with itchy eyes and a sniffling nose.

Damnit,It was kinda hard not to hate how Jungkook got it right to get my rusted water taps to excell in their purposes now.

When I enter the bedroom part of my quarters again,the smell of him hits me square in the face,and it's in a daze that I sniff after my clothes.

Maybe Amonte' bought some new shit?

But I couldn't smell it on me,neither on the slip I'd slung over my forearm.

Yet it was still there,the sweet tint of sandalwood and the intoxication of spice that always lingered in my clothes after returning from Jungkook's embraces.

Why?

The tears are already brimming my sockets before I can withhold them,and I'm so glad I'm alone as I slump my shoulders, begrudgingly making my way towards where hopefully a warm shower would succeed it drying me out.

Literally and figuratively.

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Was it possible to get a harsh whiplash only hours after you've drank your through bottles of tequila?

It may seem so,the sobriety Arielle had started to feel as she entered the villa and gathered her clothes gone with the first touch of hot water to her skin, finding herself to be tearing up.

Drunk she quite definitely was, because why other would she still be sniffling as she pulled on the silky slip over her warm sensitive skin,as she brushed her teeth and could barely see past anything that could go for blurry,when she could taste salty tears between the mint, having to pause her movements to lower her head over the sink, sniffling into the bows of her arms.

She would have carried on,had it not been for the burn of toothpaste so close to her eyes —and God did it burn—having been left no choice but to rinse out her mouth, splattering her face with cold droplets of water in hopes that it would dashen out the heat that stung her skin.

She touches her fingertips to the walls to strengthen her posture, making her way down the lightened hall to her bedroom door,hand hovering slightly over the golden tip of the door handle as she leans her weight against it.

Alas,she couldn't stand sniffling in the cold trenches of the hallway in nothing but a fuzzy gown covering her slip cladded bits,so she twists the doorknob and makes her way into the warmth of her bedroom.

A bedroom that seemed too cold to be warm now,and she shivers slightly when spotting the opened door of her balcony.Anxieted worry hatches her throat as she clutches the door behind her tighter,her eyes moving from where it had initially landed on that of the subtly moving lilac of her curtains to her bed.

Her bed.

Was she perhaps that drunk that she would mistake a Jeon Jungkook sat on the ground before it,head tilted a little against the mattress where he sits with his back against it,watching her through that of an hooded gaze?

She leaves the handle of the door and stumbles abit as she goes to rub at her eyes, undoubtedly red from her crying session in the shower.Removing the warmth of her finger pads from her eyes, she's sighted again with the image of him,and salted tears stain her sockets as she's angered at her brain that plays trick with her like this.

She rubs her hands against her robes, biting her lip to keep in the little sob as her eyes fill to the brim with salted rivers just waiting to dribble down her cheeks,as she instead opts to place the heels of her palms to her eyes,the burn of trying to keep them inside indeed only succeeding of freeing them instead.

God— why was she crying so much?
But then she remembered,she had taken maybe one to many sips of tequila, which resulted in only knotting up her emotions even more in the dark of her bedroom.
But still...

"God,why?"
She whispers audibly, sniffling the tiniest bit as she tries to get the image of Jungkook out of her head,who most possibly had only been an fixture of her imagination.

She didn't care that that would probably be putting it that she'd been drinking enough to have her hallucinating, because why would Jungkook be in her room?

"Darling?"
Jungkook, seemingly woken up out of his low lidded slumber where he thought of the prettiest dream of Arielle in a fuzzy gown,only to realise that he might've not been asleep that much at all.

At the words uttered where she knew she had to have been alone,she lifts her hands hastenedly to see if her mind were just playing tricks with her again,and if Jungkook actually was — there ?

And it seems,he was?
But that couldn't be true,could it?

She stumbles a little in her haste to get to him,the tears dribbling a bit more freely than they'd had before,as she grips his face softly in her hands,the sleepy yet shocked orbs of him staring at her.

"Arielle, darling -
are you crying?"
He asks,and it all seems to settle clearly in her mind.

Jungkook was here,and it wasn't her mind just playing tricks on her,no.

He was here, breathing before her.

And— oh my God.

Jungkook,he was here!

She's glad that she's drunk and would probably not remember much of the sweet dream she must be experiencing now, because she would definitely be embarrassed of how quick she is to sink into his lap and pull him against her,her wet cheeks nestled in the warmth of his neck,where the intoxication of his warm spicy scent was at it's strongest,where it was most effectively comforting,her tears not seeming to want to dry any soon.

"Oh God,bun,Kookie—bun."
Her words may be hiccuped abit,but she lessens to actually give a fuck,not when she had muscled arms tightening around her,not when she could feel the featherlight touch of his pillowy lips to her ear,not when the rubbing of his warm palms against her back only succeeded in having her ugly cry even more.

"Love, darling -
Please stop crying."
He tried to soothe her,but only succeeded in having her wrapping herself around him tighter, wrapping her legs around his waist when he easily stood up with her in his hold,and she experienced a little dizziness when abruptly being lifted in the air.

She pulls her face from his neck though, afraid she might stain it with her puke,she holds her fist to her mouth as she forces it down the throat again, narrowing her slowly swelling eyes at Jungkook.

"Don't you-don't you know no-not to, fuck,lift a drunk person as quick if you don't want th-them puking on you?"
She scolds drunkenly,not caring much that she was currently being carried about like a child with her thighs around Jungkook's waist as he held her up in his grip by her waist, watching abit amusedly as she tries to dry her eyes only to succeed in having more rivers sailing their way down her cheeks.

"Arielle,why are you crying?"
He asks while she still wipes at her cheeks,succeeding in having her halt her movements.

"Be-because you're he-here,and I don't know why,or if you really are here,but I just missed you s-so much,that I don't even care that I could be hall-hallucinating right now,for fucks sake.
What does it take for me to just enjoy the warmth of a person that probably isn't even here without it questioning my fucking lack of dignity?"
She rambles.

"Okay,I'll try not to disrupt your imagination with any more words then,that alright?"
He decides to humour himself and indulge Arielle in letting her believe that this was all a fixture of her imagination.

"Mhmmm."
She hums against his neck, having burrowed herself in the thick expanse of warmth again, her arms tightening their hold against him again.

He realises rather belatedly an hour later that she had fallen asleep in his lap,where he had been seated on his back against the soft pillows of the headboard of her bed, having spent the last sitxy four minutes rubbing soothing circles to her exposed skin after she had gotten rid of the gown that covered her slip.

He now had a slightly pouting Arielle laying with her head to his chest,and he found himself realising another aspect of how quick he had fallen inlove with her.

Because Arielle,curled against him so soft and sweet, had to be the best thing he could wake up to.

That,and the uttered words she mumbles when he tries to move from beneath her.

"Stay,ion want you to go.
Please...don't leave."
She mumbles against him,and he finds himself tearing up the slightest bit,before fucking it all and letting his own tears fall down his cheeks.

He cradles her closer then,let's her pull him closer to her by clasping her legs in between his jean cladded ones,not caring the slightest at how uncomfortable he was bound to feel if woken up with his skin sweatily attached to the material.

It all seems worth it,with the prospect of being able to see Arielle again tomorrow,and having the chance to slowly yet surely have her realise that he wasn't going anywhere.

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Remember chapter four,Kookie asking Arielle to “Stay,just a little bit?”.
I just love my characters when they're not afraid of being vulnerable in front of each other.