love is for the freaks @escapismbook - Tumblr Blog

REALISM

CHAPTER TWELVE | SECRET

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female) → AU-Genre(s): dark romance, mature, mafia → Trope: forbidden romance, sin-evil, passion, slow-burn. → Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned.) → Word count: 10.8K → warnings + triggers: none?

→ Author’s note: Realism is the sequel to a dark mafia romance. It explores desire, deception, and the pull of the forbidden.

This story is also written by two authors. Both are working on the two main lead couples as well as the other side couples. Please read with caution. For those who stay, welcome to a world where love and darkness intertwine.

Small note: when you see this font and this font, it means they are speaking French and Korean.

jimin's pov.

I watched the clock crawl toward eleven. Every second felt like a slow drip of honey. I stood outside her door, my hand hovering over the wood. I knew her rhythm by heart. I knew she’d be awake, probably nursing a coffee and trying to convince herself that she belonged in Paris. To Theo. The thought made my jaw ache. Moon don't belong to a ghost or a Frenchman. She belong to me.

I knocked. It was a sharp, demanding sound that echoed through the hallway. I heard her footsteps—light and hesitant. She always was cautious, a trait I taught from back in Seoul.

When the door finally creaked open, her face was a map of beautiful confusion. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were wide. She looked like my Moon again. I wanted to reach out and pull her into my chest.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. Her voice was breathless, a little bit sharp. She wore wearing one of those soft sweaters that made her look small.

I hated that Theo got to see her like this every morning. I wanted to burn this apartment down and take her back to a place where only my eyes could find her. She was my only obsession.

“I was promised a tour,” I leaned against the doorframe, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I didn't care about the Louvre or the Eiffel Tower. I just wanted to watch her move through the streets. I wanted to see how the Parisian sun hit her skin. I’ve spent four years with the ghost of her. Now, I wanted the real thing right in front of me. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

She was trapped between wanting to slam the door and wanting to let me in. I could see the pulse jumping in her throat. It told me everything her mouth wouldn't. She was afraid of me, but she was more afraid of how much she missed this.

I sat on her sofa and waited. Every muffled sound from her bedroom fed my hunger. I knew exactly where her skin met the fabric of her clothes. I had watched her through windows for weeks, memorising her lonely silhouette.

She finally stepped out, looking radiant and sharp. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped animal. I didn't plan on letting her go again. She belonged in my shadow, where I could keep her safe from everyone else.

“You’re not coming home tonight, baby,” I said, my voice dropping an octave.

I watched her eyes flicker with a momentary spark of fear. It thrilled me. I wanted her to know that her freedom was just a beautiful, temporary illusion.

“I believe I am,” she laughed.

That sound cut through me. She still thought she had a choice in this. She didn't realize that I had already woven myself into the very fabric of her daily life.

“But I booked the Ritz for us,” I feigned a pout, tilting my head.

I wanted to see her crumble. I wanted to see her realize that Theo’s bed was cold compared to the fire I could provide for her.

“I am not staying with you, Min-ah,” she said, looking for her shoes.

She was trying to be firm, but I saw the way her fingers trembled. She couldn't hide the truth from me. I knew her body's secrets better.

“Then I’ll come back here with you and I’ll greet Theo by saying your ex is sleeping over,” I feigned a smile.

The thought of his face turning pale gave me a sick sense of satisfaction. He was just a placeholder. Her eyes widened and she gave me a stern look. I just tucked my hands in my pockets and grinned. I liked it when she was angry. It meant she was feeling something for me. Indifference was the only thing I feared.

“Fine,” she snapped, “but I want my own hotel room.” She reached for her apartment keys, her jaw set in a hard line. I nodded slowly.

I didn't care about the walls between us. I knew they would eventually fall.

“Get the most expensive one, baby,” I said, following her out. I watched the sway of her hips as we walked toward the stairs.

My black Porsche Panamera GTS sat idling by the curb, a sleek predator in this soft city. I opened the door for her, my fingers grazing her arm. She shivered. I loved knowing her body still remembered my touch.

She climbed in, and the interior immediately filled with her scent. It was intoxicating. I’ve sat in this car alone for nights, staring at her window, imagining her right here. Finally, the passenger seat wasn't empty.

"Nice car, Jimin," she said, looking at the leather. Her voice was flat, trying to hide her interest. I shifted into gear, my eyes tracking her profile.

I shifted into gear and pulled away from the curb. Her scent filled the small space of the Porsche. I had spent thousands of hours imagining her in this seat. Now, she was finally here, and I wasn't letting her leave.

“It’s just a car, Moon," I said, my eyes flicking to her legs. I wanted to reach over and transition my hand to her thigh. I needed to feel her skin to know this was real and not another fever dream.

She stared out the window, avoiding my gaze. I knew she was thinking about the Ritz. I had already paid for the Imperial Suite for myself and a smaller, lonely room for her. I knew she wouldn't stay there.

I drove through the busy streets of Paris with one hand on the steering wheel. My other hand rested near the gear shift, inches from her knee. I watched her reflection in the glass. She looked perfect, like a captured bird.

"Why are we going to the hotel first?" she asked. Her voice was tight with nerves.

I loved that I could make her feel unsettled. It meant I still had power over her. It meant Theo was failing to protect her.

"So you can pick which room you want before my tour starts," I turned onto the Place Vendôme.

I pulled up to the grand entrance of the Ritz. The valets moved quickly, but I didn't look at them. I only looked at her. I climbed out and walked around to open her door. I wanted everyone to see that she was with me.

I watched her step out of the car. The sunlight caught the gold of her jewelry. I wanted to grab her waist right there. I wanted the world to know she was mine, but I held back. I followed her into the lobby.

We reached the gold-trimmed front desk. The clerk looked at her with practiced Parisian politeness.

“Mr. Park,” the woman greeted me with a smile. “Is everything to satisfactory with your suit?”

I nodded with a smile. “More than,” I said before turning to Moon. “Go on, baby," I lean against the desk, my hands tucked in my pockets and my head angled to the side. “Tell her you want the best. Show me how much of my money you can burn today. Don't be shy. I know you love the view from the top."

I watched her chin lift. That familiar spark of defiance lit up her eyes, and I felt a surge of heat hit my gut. She wasn't shrinking away. Instead, she stepped closer to the marble counter, challenging me.

Moon turned to the clerk with a sharp, beautiful smirk. "I’ll take the Imperial Suite," she said clearly. "The one with the garden view and the private hammam. Since Mr. Park is paying, I want the absolute best they have."

My smirk deepened until my face almost ached. God, she was perfect when she was being bratty with my credit card. I leaned closer, my chest nearly brushing her shoulder, just to see the small hairs rise on her neck.

The clerk’s fingers flew over the keys. I didn't even look at the total. I just stared at the curve of Moon’s jaw. I wanted to bite it. I wanted to mark her right here in this expensive, crowded lobby.

I had watched her through a telephoto lens for fourteen nights, seeing her brush her hair through a half-closed curtain. Now, she was standing inches away. The reality of her was a thousand times better.

My trousers felt tight as I watched her take the gold-embossed key card. She was expensive, and she was mine. Theo couldn't give her this. He couldn't handle her fire. Only I knew how to stoke it until she burned.

"Happy now, Jimin?" she asked, waving the key in my face. Her voice was playful but guarded. I reached out, grabbing her wrist firmly. I didn't let go, feeling her pulse race against my thumb. She was so beautifully trapped.

"I'll be happy when we're upstairs," I whispered, my voice rough.

moon's pov.

You couldn't help but notice how casually attractive he looked, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his gaze fixed on you in a playful challenge.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the fluttering feeling in your stomach. There was something about his relaxed demeanor that made him even more attractive. You found yourself admiring the way his arms were defined under the fabric of his shirt, and the way his dark locks fell casually, softening his usually serious features.

Jimin noticed your gaze, the way your eyes seemed to linger for a moment on his arms, and a hint of realization crossed his face. He couldn't help but feel a faint sense of satisfaction, enjoying the way your eyes roamed over him. He smirked lightly, keeping his voice nonchalant. "Hungry? I want to eat some dessert."

You quickly snapped out of your distracted state, realizing you had been caught staring. You cleared your throat and replied, trying to maintain composure. "Yeah, I could go for some dessert." You mentally chided yourself for being so obvious, but secretly, you couldn't deny the appeal of seeing this rare side of Jimin.

Jimin chuckled, clearly amused by your brief moment of distraction. He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the door, his steps light and almost carefree. "Let's take a shower first and change." he takes it off his t-shirt.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Jimin pull off his t-shirt, revealing his broad shoulders and defined back. You tried to keep your cool, but the sight was undeniably attractive. You nodded wordlessly, your gaze still lingering on his exposed skin for a moment before you looked away, trying to compose yourself.

Jimin smirked, noticing your reaction, but didn't say anything. He headed to the bathroom, leaving you with your thoughts and the image of his bare torso still etched in your mind. The sound of the shower starting echoed through the room, and you realized you needed to gather yourself.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, your heartbeat still slightly elevated from the unexpected view. You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to distract yourself by scrolling through your phone. However, the image of Jimin's toned physique kept involuntarily popping up in your mind, making it difficult to concentrate.

The water continued to run in the background, reminding you that he was just a few feet away, naked and wet. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the distracting thoughts. "Get it together," you muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath and focusing on your phone.

The shower eventually stopped, and a few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and Jimin stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and tousled, his skin glistening with droplets of water. The sight made your mouth go dry, and you found yourself staring again.

You tried to look away discreetly, but it wasn't easy. The towel hugged Jimin's waist tightly, emphasizing the firm muscles of his torso. Your gaze lingered on the V-line disappearing beneath the towel, imagining what lay beneath it. You felt a jolt of desire run through you, and you swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself once again.

Jimin noticed your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes kept darting to his towel-clad body. He smirked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. "Water is still warm. Go and take a shower," his voice low and teasing.

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. Your heart raced at the sound of his low, teasing voice. His eyes held a playful glint, and you knew he was aware of the effect he was having on you. You tried to regain your composure and stood up from the bed, avoiding his gaze as you walked past him towards the bathroom. "Right, yeah. I'll be quick."

Jimin's smirk widened as you quickly moved past him towards the bathroom. He couldn't help but find your reactions amusing and endearing. As you closed the bathroom door behind you, he chuckled softly to himself, knowing you were probably flustered beyond belief after the sight of him in a towel.

Once you were in the safety of the bathroom, you let out a sigh, trying to will your heart rate to slow down. The image of Jimin's toned chest and the low sound of his voice were still fresh in your mind. You turned on the water, letting it warm up before stepping into the shower. As the water cascaded over you, you tried to focus on anything but the way Jimin had looked, but it was proving to be quite challenging.

As you washed up, you found yourself dwelling on the sight of Jimin in that towel. The way his arms flexed when he crossed them, the defined collarbones, and the hint of a toned stomach peeking out. You groaned softly, annoyed at yourself for being so affected by his appearance. "Get it together, seriously," you muttered, lathering up your body with soap.

Despite your efforts to focus on the task at hand, your thoughts kept straying to Jimin, imagining what he might be doing in the other room. You wondered if he was still in that towel, or if he had already gotten dressed. As you rinsed off the soap, your mind went to dangerous territory, imagining him standing in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. You tried to snap yourself out of it, shaking your head under the warm water.

After the shower, you quickly dried yourself and wrapped a towel around your body. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself to face Jimin again, hoping you had composed yourself enough not to be a total mess. You stepped out of the bathroom, finding Jimin sitting comfortably on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as you entered, his eyes scanning your figure, wrapped in a towel.

Jimin couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your form, taking in the way the towel hugged your curves. He felt a pang of desire stirring within him, but quickly masked it with a nonchalant expression. He looked up at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You took your time."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the effect his gaze had on you. "I had to wash my hair, you know." You walked towards your luggage to find something comfortable to wear. The towel slid a bit lower on your chest, exposing more skin, and Jimin's eyes followed the movement unconsciously.

Jimin's gaze lingered on the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone, his eyes darkening slightly as he admired the sight before him. He quickly snapped out of it, clearing his throat and looking away, trying to compose himself. "Well, hurry up and get dressed. I'm starving."

You grabbed the first thing you could find, a soft, oversized T-shirt and shorts, and turned to face Jimin, who was still sitting on the bed. "Can you turn around? please. Privacy, you know."

Jimin chuckled softly, finding your request both cute and amusing. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned away from you, giving you a bit of privacy. "Alright, alright, I'll turn away. Happy now?"

You waited until his back was completely turned before dropping the towel and slipping into the T-shirt and shorts. The oversized T-shirt hung a bit loosely on you, stopping just above your mid-thigh. You cleared your throat softly, signaling that he could turn around again.

Jimin turned back around, his eyes immediately drawn to the sight of you in the baggy T-shirt and shorts. You looked undeniably adorable, the fabric swallowing you up and emphasizing your small frame. He had to fight the urge to pull you onto his lap and hold you close. Instead, he cleared his throat and forced a nonchalant expression. "You look... cozy."

You tried to ignore the heat that surged through your body at his words. You pushed a strand of damp hair behind your ear and shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, just thought it would be comfortable for now."

Jimin nodded, his gaze still fixed on you, silently admiring the way the T-shirt hung on your frame. He had to resist the urge to reach out and touch you, to pull you closer and feel you against him. Instead, he cleared his throat and forced himself to look away, focusing on the wall in front of him. "Let's go eat. I'm starving."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. You followed Jimin out of the room and towards the hotel restaurant, your heart still racing a bit from the intimate moment you had just shared. As you walked, you tried to focus on the surroundings, but your mind kept drifting back to Jimin, the way his eyes had roamed over your body, the low sound of his voice. You pushed the thoughts away, determined to enjoy the evening and not let your hormones take over.

Throughout the meal, Jimin found himself continuously stealing glances at you. Watching you eat, the way your eyes closed as you savored a particularly delicious bite, the way your lips wrapped around the spoon or fork, it was almost torture. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to will away the thoughts that were coursing through his mind.

Jimin's gaze lingered on your mouth as you sipped your drink, his eyes fixated on the movement of your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out to moisten your bottom lip, and the subtle action sent a jolt of desire through him. He shifted in his seat, the fabric of his jeans suddenly feeling too tight. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, trying to will away the heat that was pooling in his lower abdomen.

Jimin found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the conversation, his mind consumed by the images that danced through his imagination. He wanted to reach across the table, to pull you into his lap, to feel your body pressed against his. The thought of your soft curves against his frame sent a jolt of heat through him, and he quickly gulped his drink, trying to cool down his rising temperature.

As you both stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air kissed your skin, providing a pleasant respite from the heated atmosphere inside. Jimin walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze occasionally drifting towards you. The soft glow of streetlights illuminated the sidewalk, casting a warm glow on your features.

The night was quiet, with only the distant hum of traffic interrupting the silence. You walked side by side, the distance between you minimal. Every so often, the backs of your hands would brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through Jimin's body each time.

Jimin couldn't help but be hyper-aware of every brush of contact between their bodies. The casual touch of your hand against his was both innocent and charged with a hidden sensuality. He had to fight the urge to reach out and intertwine his fingers with yours, to pull you closer and press your body against his. Instead, he kept his hands firmly in his pockets and continued walking, his eyes occasionally stealing glances at you.

The walk seemed to stretch on forever, with each step bringing you closer to the hotel. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. Jimin's mind was filled with visions of pulling you into a secluded alleyway, pushing you against a wall, and finally giving in to the craving that had been building inside him all night.

The thought of having you pressed against a wall, your body flush against his, was driving him insane. He tried to keep his thoughts in check, to maintain the casual distance between you, but it was increasingly difficult with every stolen glance and subtle touch. He clenched his fists in his pockets, his knuckles turning white, as he fought to keep his hands to himself.

As you both entered the hotel, the elevator ride up to your room was filled with unspoken tension. You stood side by side in the elevator, the air thick with mutual desire. Jimin kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. Every time the elevator jostled, causing you to sway slightly towards him, he could feel his resolve slipping.

He was acutely aware of the way your body lightly brushed against his, the subtle scent of your perfume filling his senses. His thoughts were consumed with how easy it would be to reach out, to pull you flush against him, and to feel the warmth of your body against his. He clenched his fists tighter, willing himself to maintain control, to not act on the overwhelming desire that clawed at his self-restraint.

Finally, the elevator dinged, signaling that you had reached your floor. Jimin stepped out first, holding the door open for you. As you passed by him, he caught a whiff of your scent again, and it took everything he had not to pull you into his arms and bury his face in the crook of your neck.

The walk down the hallway to your hotel room was agonizing. Every step felt like an eternity. Jimin kept pace behind you, his eyes fixated on the sway of your hips, the way your body moved with each step. He reaches out and places his hand on the small of your back to pull you closer and press his chest against your back.

His touch on the small of your back was a burning brand, a reminder of the intense desire he was barely reining in. Every fiber of his being wanted to pull you against him, to feel your body molded to his, but he held back, trying to keep his touch casual and nonchalant. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, as you finally reached the door to your hotel room.

You fumbled with the key, your hands shaking slightly, still acutely aware of his presence behind you. Jimin stepped closer, his chest almost pressed against your back as he watched you unlock the door. The proximity was maddening, the heat radiating from his body causing you to shiver involuntarily.

As you opened the door and stepped inside, Jimin followed close behind, unable to tear himself away from you. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing in the now enclosed space. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air almost crackling as you both stood there, mere inches apart.

The silence was deafening, the only sound the ragged breaths of anticipation. Jimin's gaze was fixed on you, his eyes dark with unspoken desire. He could see the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the flush of your cheeks, and the way your tongue darted out to moisten your lips. It was all too much.

He couldn't take it anymore. In one swift motion, he reached out, his hand encircling your waist, and pulled you against him. The moment your bodies collided, it was like the dam had burst.

''Oh fuck me.'' His lips crashed onto yours, his kiss hard and demanding. His hands moved to your hips, holding you firmly against him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you with a fervor that sent a jolt of heat through your body. He walked you backward, his body pressing you against the wall, his hands roaming over your curves.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. He nipped and sucked, leaving marks on your neck. His hands slid under your shirt, his palms hot against your bare skin.

Jimin lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, his eyes roaming over the expanse of exposed skin. His hands were everywhere, his touch leaving a trail of fire along your skin. His lips returned to your shoulder, kissing and biting along the collarbone, leaving a path of possessive marks.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, anchoring yourself as he pressed his body against yours. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue delving back into your mouth. His hands roamed over your body, touching and exploring every curve and dip. The heat between you was palpable, the air crackling with tension.

He lifted you away from the wall, carrying you toward the bed. His eyes were dark with primal need, his touch electric on your skin. He lay you down on the bed, crawling over you, his body covering yours. He kissed you again, deeply, his hands roaming over your body.

"Jimin, stop stop. Look at me, look at me," you murmured.

He froze, his body still covering yours, his lips hovering inches from yours. His breathing was ragged, his eyes still dark with desire, but he obeyed your command, his gaze locking with yours.

You cupped his cheek, your fingers tracing his jawline, trying to catch your breath. "Not today, please. Just cuddle with me," you murmured, your voice shaking slightly.

He searched your gaze, seeing the sincerity in your eyes. His body was still thrumming with desire, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, willing his heart rate to slow down. He nodded, his gaze softening slightly.

He shifted his weight, rolling onto his side, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you against him. He tucked your head under his chin, his body molding against yours. His breathing was still slightly ragged, but he tried to relax, to focus on simply holding you close.

You snuggled against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart. His grip on you was tight, possessive, as he tried to quell the lingering desire coursing through his body. He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent, using it to ground himself.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of your body against his, the soft curves of your body pressed against his rougher form. He could still feel the heat between you, the simmering desire that threatened to boil over, but he pushed it back, instead focusing on the way your breath hitched slightly as his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

The minutes ticked away, and he gradually felt the tension in his body ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of contentment. Here, with you cradled in his arms, he found a sense of peace he'd rarely experienced. He continued to hold you, breathing in the scent of your hair, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

He could hear your breathing even out, the sound soothing and rhythmic. He opened his eyes, looking down at you, seeing the soft, relaxed expression on your face. A feeling of protectiveness washed over him, a fierce urge to keep you safe and close. He ran a hand through your hair, his touch gentle, as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The room was quiet, save for the sound of your combined breathing. Jimin lay there, content to hold you in his arms, the earlier intensity of desire now replaced by a warm, tender feeling he couldn't quite name. He continued stroking your hair, admiring the way the soft strands curled around his fingers.

"I am sorry..." you whispered

He looked down at you, surprised by the sudden apology. "What are you sorry for?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

"For ruining the mood," you murmured, a hint of guilt lacing your words. "I know I kinda ruined the moment."

He shook his head, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You didn't ruin anything," he reassured you, his voice still gentle. "I'm glad you stopped me."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, a look of surprise in your eyes. "You're not mad?" you asked, needing reassurance that he wasn't upset with you.

He shook his head again, his gaze fixed on yours. He gently pushed a strand of hair away from your face. "No, I'm not mad," he replied, his voice soft and sincere. "I respect your boundaries. I'm glad you said something."

A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, your body relaxing further into the mattress. "I just...didn't want to rush things," you murmured, looking down at the sheets.

He lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze again. "I understand," he said gently. "I want you to be comfortable. We can go at whatever pace you want. I'm in no rush."

Your eyes softened, grateful for his understanding. You snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arm around him and resting your head on his chest. You could hear the steady thumping of his heart beneath your ear. "Thank you for understanding," you murmured, the words muffled against his shirt.

He wrapped his arm around you, his hand gently rubbing your back. "You don't have to thank me for respecting your boundaries," he replied, his voice soft. "I want you to feel comfortable and safe with me."

You couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in his tone, his words like a soothing balm to your anxious thoughts. You nuzzled your face against his chest, enjoying the warmth and the steady beat of his heart. "You're... not upset that things didn't go further?" you dared to ask, your voice still somewhat uncertain.

He shook his head, his hand continuing to brush over your back in soothing circles. "No, I'm not upset," he assured you, his voice gentle. "I'll admit, I was a bit… heated up earlier."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing slightly at his honesty. "A bit?" you teased, lifting your head to shoot him a playful grin.

He chuckled softly, his expression sheepish. "Okay, maybe a little more than a bit," he admitted, his cheeks tinged pink. "But I respect your boundaries, and I'm alright with just being close like this."

Jimin slowly opened his eyes, the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. He blinked a few times, disoriented for a moment, before his senses registered the weight of your head on his chest, your hair tousled and soft. He let out a soft exhale, his arm instinctively tightening around you. He had slept better than he could remember, his body warm and comfortable with you pressed against him. He looked down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he took in your sleeping form.

He was content to just lie there, holding you close and relishing the feeling of your body against his. The memory of the night before flooded his mind, the intensity of his desire tempered by your words and boundaries. He gently ran his fingers through your hair, admiring the way it curled around his fingers. He was struck by how right this felt, the weight of you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses.

The thought of starting the day and leaving the comfort of the bed was almost painful, but Jimin knew it was inevitable. He ran his hand down your back. "Wake up, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep. "We have to get up eventually."

You groaned, burying your face further into his chest, your voice muffled. "Five more minutes," you grumbled, your arm tightening around his waist. You didn't want to leave the sanctuary of his arms just yet.

He chuckled softly, enjoying the way you were clinging to him like a koala. He couldn't help but find it endearing, despite the inevitability of having to get up eventually. He continued stroking your hair, his touch gentle. "You say that every time, and then five minutes turns into fifteen."

You lifted your head, your eyes half-lidded and still drooping with sleep. "But it's so warm," you protested, pouting at him. "And you're comfy." You snuggled closer to him, as if to prove your point.

He couldn't help but laugh softly at your sleepy protest. Your pouts and the way you were nuzzling against him only made him want to hold you tighter. "I know, but we really do have to get up eventually," he insisted, his hand still stroking your hair. "We can't just stay in this bed all day, as tempting as it is."

You sighed, your expression a mix of reluctance and acceptance. "Fine," you mumbled, reluctantly untangling yourself from his arms and sitting up. "But I'm allowed to complain about it." You rubbed your eyes, trying to wake yourself up fully.

He propped himself up on his elbow, grinning at your adorable display of reluctance. "Complain all you want," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It won't change the fact that we have to get up and see around. Paris is waiting for us."

You rolled your eyes, a small pout tugging at your lips. "You're so mean, making me get up when we could still be cuddling," you whined. "Paris can wait." But you were already swinging your feet off the bed and standing up, stretching your arms above your head.

He chuckled as he watched you stand up, the sheets pooling around your hips, leaving you in just your T-shirt and underwear. His gaze traveled over your form, appreciating your curves and the way your hair was tousled from sleep. "Paris might be offended that you're so willing to ignore it," he quipped, still lounging on the bed, his eyes fixed on you.

You shot him a playful glare, shaking your head at his teasing. "Paris will have to cope," you replied, your tone light and playful. You padded over to the suitcase, rummaging through it for something to wear, still very much aware of his gaze on you. After a few moments, you found a pair of jeans and a cute sweater.

Jimin's gaze followed your movements as you rifled through your suitcase, enjoying the way your hips swayed slightly as you moved. He knew he should get up as well, but he was admittedly enjoying the view too much. The sight of you dressed only in a T-shirt and underwear was sending his thoughts in a direction he knew was inappropriate, given the boundaries you'd set the night before.

You could practically feel his gaze burning into your skin, and it made you both flustered and slightly excited. You shot a sly glance over your shoulder at him, your cheeks slightly pink. "You going to just sit there and watch me get dressed, or are you going to get up and get ready yourself?"

He caught your glance and smirked, knowing he'd been caught in the act. He propped himself up on his elbows, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly. "I don't know, I'm quite enjoying the show so far," he replied, his tone teasing. "Why should I get up and miss out on the view?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep a straight face, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Because it's rude to just sit there and watch someone get dressed," you retorted, slipping the sweater over your head. "And because we have places to be, remember?"

He chuckled at your retort, reluctantly sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Fine, fine, I'll get up," he conceded, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. His gaze was fixed on you, appreciating the way the sweater hugged your curves. "But for the record, I would've watched you all day if I could." And he got up and slightly spanked your ass and smiled. "Sorry, I can't help it."

You gasped softly at the unexpected gesture, your cheeks flushing. "Hey, watch it," you scolded, shooting him a playful glare. "Boundaries, remember?" Despite the feigned reproof, you couldn't help but find his playfulness endearing. You watched as he walked over to the bathroom, enjoying the way his muscles flexed with each step.

He grinned at your chastising, amused by your reaction. "I know, I know," he chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'll behave myself." He knew he should heed your words and respect the boundaries you'd set the night before, but the sight of you in that damn sweater was making it difficult to keep his hands to himself.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his cheeky remark. Despite your best efforts, his words sent a flutter through your stomach. You shook your head, trying to focus on getting dressed instead of thinking about how attractive he was. You finished getting dressed and took a glance at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down the wrinkles in your clothes and fixing your hair as best as you could.

"Red lipstick or just lip gloss? Which one?" you asked him.

He was just coming out of the bathroom, fixing the cuffs of his shirt, when you posed the question. He looked up at your reflection in the mirror, his gaze roaming over your form. "Red," he replied without hesitation, his eyes lingering on your lips. "Definitely red."

You smiled at his quick response, appreciating the way his gaze lingered on your lips. "Red, it is, then," you replied, picking up the tube of red lipstick from your makeup bag. You applied the lipstick carefully, your lips pursing slightly as you swiped the dark hue over your lips. You couldn't help the little shiver that ran down your spine as you caught Jimin watching you through the mirror, his gaze dark and possessive.

Jimin watched as you applied the lipstick, his jaw tensing slightly. The sight of your lips, perfectly painted a deep red, was driving him crazy. He had to fight the urge to stride over to you and kiss the damn lipstick off your lips. Instead, he clenched his jaw and forced his mind to focus on something else. "Ready to go?" he asked, his voice just a touch hoarser than usual.

You noticed the huskiness in his voice, and it sent a thrill through you. You could tell he was struggling to maintain composure, and it was doing things to you. You turned to face him, a small smirk playing on your lips. You knew you were testing his self-restraint, but you couldn't help it. You loved the way he reacted to you. "Yeah, I'm ready," you replied, your voice purposely low and sultry.

His eyes darkened at the sound of your voice, desire and restraint warring within him. He could see the hint of mischief in your expression, and he knew you were testing his limits. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He held out a hand to you, gesturing towards the door. "Let's go before I lose my damn mind."

You chuckled softly, reveling in the power you held over him. You took his offered hand, linking your fingers with his as he led you towards the door. "Can't handle a little bit of teasing, huh?" you taunted, your voice light and playful. "And here I thought you were all about self-control."

He groaned softly, shaking his head at your words. "You have no idea the kind of control I'm exerting right now," he replied, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. "You know, I'm trying to respect your boundaries, but you're making it really damn difficult."

You suppressed a smirk, enjoying the fact that you had the power to affect him so intensely. The way he was struggling to keep his composure was intoxicating. "Oh, I have a pretty good idea," you teased, giving him a sly glance. "And I have to admit, it's quite fun watching you fight your desires. It's cute."

He shot you a sideways glance, a mix of amusement and frustration etched on his face. "Cute, huh?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "You think it's cute watching me struggle to keep my hands off you? Trust me, sweetheart, there's nothing cute about the thoughts running through my mind right now."

You feigned innocence, your eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh? And what exactly are those thoughts, hmm? Care to enlighten me?" You knew full well what his thoughts probably were, but you wanted to hear him say it out loud. You raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing on your lips.

He groaned, realizing you were fully aware of the effect you had on him. "You really want to know what I'm thinking right now?" he asked, his voice lower and huskier. His gaze roamed over your form, his hand tightening around yours. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Because I'll gladly tell you, in explicit detail, every single thing that I want to do to you right now. But first, please, show me Paris."

You shivered at his whispered words, the low, gravelly tone sending goosebumps over your skin. You swallowed, trying to keep your breathing even. You had to admit, hearing him say it out loud was doing crazy things to you. But you weren't ready to let him break entirely yet. "Paris first," you agreed, your voice slightly breathless. "But later...? Well, we'll see." You gave him a coy smile and a little shrug before leading him out the door.

He followed you out the door, his gaze fixed on the sway of your hips. The way you'd responded to his words had him almost undone, and the promise of "later" was driving him insane. His hand itched to reach out and pull you against him, but he held himself back. adjusting his shirt. "I swear to god, woman, I've never met anyone who tests my self-control as much as you."

You chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. "What can I say? I'm just special that way." You continued down the hallway, your hips swaying just a little bit more with each step. You knew he was watching you, and you were playing it up just to torture him a little more.

''We'll start with breakfast first. Croissants and coffee,'' you said.

He followed you, his eyes still glued to your hips. As you spoke about breakfast, he nodded, half-listening. He was still struggling to control himself, the image of you in that damn red lipstick still fresh in his mind. "Croissants and coffee sound good," he managed to reply, his voice slightly strained.

You caught the way his voice wavered and smiled to yourself, feeling satisfied that you were affecting him so intensely. You led him into a quaint little café, the smell of freshly baked croissants and strong coffee wafting through the air. You found a table by the window, the morning sunlight casting a warm glow over the room.

He took the seat across from you, his gaze still locked on you. He watched you as you perused the menu, his eyes flickering to your lips now and then. He reached out and trailed his thumb over your bottom lip. "Your lipstick, a little bit smudged."

You shivered at the touch of his thumb, the simple gesture sending a jolt of desire through you. You resisted the urge to lean into his touch, instead replying with a sly smile. "Is it bad?" you asked, lifting a napkin to dab at your lip.

He shook his head, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "No, it's not bad," he replied, his thumb lingering on your lip for a moment longer. "In fact, I think it looks damn sexy."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the low rumble of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to keep your composure, but you could feel yourself slipping. "You think so?" you asked, your voice hoarse. His thumb moved from your lip to your jawline, and he leaned in a bit closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how sexy you look with that smudge."

Your heart raced at his proximity, the intensity in his gaze making your head spin. You had to fight the urge to moan at his words, your body betraying you in the best way. "It's... it's just lipstick," you said weakly, trying to keep your focus on the conversation and not on the way his thumb was still tracing patterns on your jawline.

He chuckled, the sound low and sultry in his throat. "Just lipstick, huh?" he murmured, his gaze flickering to your lips. "Babygirl, that lipstick makes your mouth look downright sinful." He traced a finger over your bottom lip, his touch light but deliberate. His eyes darkened. "And I have a very vivid imagination when it comes to thoughts about your mouth."

Your lips parted slightly at his words, your breath hitching. You were torn between wanting to smack him for teasing you so cruelly and just throwing yourself into his arms right there in the cafe. "Is that so?" you managed to reply, your voice a few octaves huskier than usual." Anyways, I am hungry, let me order."

"Okay, show me your French side." he smiled.

You shot him a glare, knowing damn well that he was enjoying how worked up he made you. You ordered your coffee and croissant in perfect French, the language rolling off your tongue with a flawless pronunciation. You couldn't help but notice the hint of surprise and admiration that flickered across his face as you spoke. He had to admit, listening to you switch Korean to fluent French was making him even more attracted to you.

His eyes widened slightly, impressed by your flawless French. He had known you could speak multiple languages, but hearing you switch seamlessly between Korean and another language was making his imagination run wild. "Wow, sweetheart," he drawled, his eyes raking over you appreciatively. "I never knew how damn hot it would be to hear you speak French."

You both walked through the opulent halls of the museum, surrounded by priceless works of art. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the sculptures and paintings. Jimin's hand rested lightly on your lower back, his touch both possessive and comforting.

He couldn't help but steal glances at you as you walked, taking in the way your eyes sparkled with admiration for the artwork. As you stood in front of a particularly gorgeous painting, Jimin stepped closer to you, his body practically pressed against your back. He leaned down, his lips near your ear, and his hand slid lower, his fingers splaying out across your backside. "Do you know what I'm thinking right now?" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You shivered at the feeling of his breath on your neck, his body heat radiating against your back. You could barely concentrate on the painting with him so close, his touch setting your skin on fire. "No, tell me." you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and sensuous. "I'm thinking that this piece of artwork doesn't even compare to the masterpiece standing right in front of me," he whispered, his lips now grazing the shell of your ear. His hand continued to wander, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your hip.

His words sent a jolt of desire through you, and you fought the urge to lean back into him, to feel more of his heat and strength against you. Instead, you forced yourself to focus on the painting, attempting to act as nonchalantly as possible, and replied, "You're ridiculous."

He chuckled again, amused by your attempt to appear unaffected. His thumb rubbed small circles on your hip, his touch teasing and provocative. "Am I now?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Maybe I just have good taste." He leaned in a little closer, his chest pressed against your back, and whispered, "And right now, you're my favorite work of art."

Your knees went a little weak at his words, and you couldn't stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body so close that it was driving you crazy. "Keep walking Jimin, There is a so many paintings we need to see." you murmured

He chuckled at the way you were struggling to keep your composure, enjoying the effect his words were having on you. "As you wish,baby." He removed his hand from your hip and stepped back a little, though not before giving your hip a quick squeeze. As you continued to explore the museum, he couldn't help but admire the way you moved, his gaze constantly finding you in the crowd.

Every so often, he would touch you—a light brush of his fingers on your arm, a gentle nudge to direct your attention to a particular piece of artwork, or a casual hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowded gallery. Each time he touched you, no matter how brief the contact, it sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else.

As you stood in front of a particularly striking piece, Jimin stepped up behind you again, his body so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm on your neck, and whispered, "You know, there's one piece here that's even more captivating than any of these paintings."

You fought to keep your breathing steady, your entire body on edge from his closeness. "Oh?" you managed to reply, trying to sound casual. "And what piece is that?"

He snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you slightly back against his chest. His other hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your neck, the touch feather-light but electric. "It's right here, sweetheart." His lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, and his voice was low and huskier than ever. "The most beautiful work of art here is standing right in my arms."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to resist the overwhelming urge to melt backwards into his chest. His touch was driving you crazy, and the way he whispered those words in your ear was almost enough to make you whimper. "Stop it," you managed to gasp out. "And next museum please, Louvre."

He chuckled softly at your response, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Always so bossy," he murmured, his lips still against your neck. "I love it." With a final light kiss to the sensitive spot below your ear, he reluctantly pulled away and took your hand in his. "The Louvre, as my lady commands."

You took a deep breath as he pulled away, trying to regain your composure. You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Jimin led you out of the museum and towards the Louvre, his hand still holding yours firmly. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice how every man's eyes lingered on you, their gazes filled with admiration and envy. Jealousy flared up within him, and his grip on your hand tightened slightly. He knew it was inevitable that other men would notice how beautiful you were, but it still bothered him immensely.

"Hey Moon, come here. Stay here." he said and looked at you

You looked at him, a little surprised by his sudden command. But there was something in his eyes that made you obey, and you stepped closer to him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Yes?" you asked, curious.

He looked around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear the conversation. Then he leaned down towards you, his jaw clenching slightly. "Every man we pass," he began, his voice low and possessive, "every single damn man, is ogling you. And I don't like it."

You stifled a small smirk at the possessiveness in his voice. You couldn't help but find it endearing and slightly amusing. "Are you jealous?" you teased lightly, a hint of a challenge in your tone.

He shot you a defiant glare, his jaw tensing even more. "Damn right, I'm jealous," he growled, his grip on your hand tightening. "You're too damn beautiful for your own good, and every man out there is practically drooling over you. It's pissing me off."

You bit back a smile, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction wash over you at his words. It was flattering to know that he was so possessive of you. "I can't help it if I'm attractive," you teased, lightly poking his shoulder with your free hand. "Come on, I want to see Mona Lisa."

He grumbled under his breath, clearly not pleased with your casual response, but he reluctantly released your hand and motioned for you to lead the way. "Fine, go see your damn Mona Lisa," he muttered, his eyes flickering around to glare at any stray male nearby.

You smirked at his disgruntled expression, secretly enjoying his jealous attitude. As you made your way through the crowded museum halls, you could feel Jimin's gaze on you, possessive and protective. It was as if he was silently sending a message to any man who even looked in your direction: "Back off, she's mine."

His gaze lingered on every man who dared to glance your way, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he silently staked his claim. "I swear, if one more man looks at your ass," he muttered under his breath, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

You suppressed another smile, finding his possessive behavior both annoying and strangely endearing. You couldn't deny that there was a part of you that found it flattering, but you also wanted to tease him just a bit more. "You know, you're being a bit ridiculous," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "And I know, my ass looks so good. Even Cho still compliments my ass once in a while."

After spending a long day at the museum, you and Jimin decided to unwind at the hotel bar. The soft glow of the low lights cast a warm ambiance over the room, and a few other patrons were quietly enjoying their drinks at various tables.

Jimin led you to a secluded booth in the corner, his hand on the small of your back. He pulled out the chair for you, waiting for you to sit down before taking the seat beside you. His gaze remained fixed on you, his expression both protective and possessive.

You slid into the seat, your hip accidentally brushing against his thigh. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he settled in beside you, his leg still pressed against yours. A small shiver ran down your spine, but you quickly regained your composure and leaned back against the booth.

Jimin reached out, his hand resting on your knee under the table. His thumb traced small circles on your bare skin, his touch light but possessive. His gaze remained fixed on your face, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

You could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way his thumb was gently stroking your knee making it hard to focus. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the growing attraction between you both. "You're being kinda clingy tonight, aren't you?" you teased, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Jimin chuckled in response, not denying the truth of your words. "Can you blame me?" he replied, his thumb continuing to move in lazy circles on your thigh. "When I have to watch every man who looks your way all damn day? I'm allowed to be clingy."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully at his statement. "Possessive much?" you teased, tilting your head slightly. "You're acting like I belong to you or something."

His hand tightened around your knee, his jaw clenching slightly at your words. "You do," he murmured, his voice low and firm. "You're mine. No matter how many times I have to remind you. You're damn mine."

Your heart skipped a beat at his possessive declaration, the intensity in his voice sending a jolt of longing through you. You tried to hide your reaction, shrugging nonchalantly. "And yet, I don't remember signing any sort of contract that says I belong to you," you replied, trying to keep your tone light and teasing.

His grip on your knee tightened even more, his eyes darkening with desire. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dropping even lower. "You don't need any damn contract. I don't need a piece of paper to know that you're mine. Your body, your mind, your heart, they all belong to me. I own every damn part of you."

You felt a sharp heat pool in your core at his words, the possessive glint in his eyes making you feel simultaneously aroused and irritated. You struggled to maintain your composure, your voice coming out a bit breathless. "And what if I disagree?" you challenged, arching an eyebrow.

His hand slid higher up your thigh, his fingertips digging into your flesh. He leaned in closer, his face inches away from yours. "You can disagree all you want, sweetheart," he replied, his voice dropping to a low growl. "But your body betrays you. Every time I touch you, you shiver. Every time I'm close to you, you melt. Every time I speak, you listen. You can claim you're not mine all you want. But deep down, you know the truth."

You walked into the luxurious hotel room, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. The room was spacious and elegant, adorned with plush furniture and soft lighting. Without a word, you made your way into the adjacent bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The bathroom was equally lavish, featuring a marble-clad walk-in shower and a spacious bathtub. You quickly undressed, leaving your clothes in a neat pile on the nearby counter.

You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body. The tension of the day slowly drained away, replaced by a sense of relaxation. You closed your eyes, sighing softly as the water massaged your muscles.

But despite the peace and solitude, your mind kept drifting back to Jimin. His possessive words, the way his gaze lingered on you, the soft touch of his fingers on your skin... It was driving you crazy.

You found yourself picturing the muscular contours of his body, feeling a pang of desire low in your belly. You shook your head, trying to shake away the thoughts. "Get yourself together," you muttered to yourself, reaching for the soap.

But your mind couldn't help but imagine his hands roaming over your body, replacing the soap and water. You could almost feel the heat of his breath, hear the deep rasp of his voice whispering dirty words in your ear. It was all you could do to bite back a whimper.

You hurriedly finished showering, your mind still swirling with thoughts of Jimin. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around your body.

As you dried off, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your damp hair clung to your face, your skin still flushed from the hot water. And for a moment, you couldn't help but consider what Jimin would say if he were standing beside you, his eyes roaming over your body with that possessive gleam.

"Snap out of it," you scolded yourself, grabbing a hairbrush and running it through your tangled locks.

You hastily dressed in a loose t-shirt and shorts, the fabric clinging to your damp skin. You couldn't help but feel a little annoyed with yourself for the way your thoughts kept straying to Jimin. It was as if he'd somehow imprinted himself on you, his presence lingering in every corner of your mind.

You walked back out into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh. Your mind was still racing, caught between irritation and... something else. It was as if Jimin had gotten under your skin, crawling through your thoughts and refusing to leave.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind. "Just stop thinking about him," you muttered to yourself, burying your face in the pillow. But even the softness of the fabric under your cheek seemed to remind you of him. You groaned, feeling more frustrated and conflicted than ever.

You flipped onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. Your mind kept playing back every little moment from the day, from the way he'd touched you so possessively to the possessive gleam in his eyes. And then there was his words... "You belong to me." They echoed in your mind, over and over again, like a damn taunt.

You groaned again, your frustration growing. You should be angry. Pissed, even. But instead, your body seemed to respond to the memory of his touch, warmth pooling low in your belly. You hated that he had this effect on you. Hated that his touch had somehow carved itself into your skin, leaving an imprint that refused to fade.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the thoughts and sensations. "Focus," you demanded of yourself. "Think about something else. Anything else." But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept drifting back to him. You could picture him so clearly, could imagine the way his breath would have felt on your neck, the heat of his skin against yours.

You let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-groan. "Damn it," you muttered into the pillow. "This is ridiculous." You rolled over, burying your face into the downy softness. But even the scent of the sheets seemed to carry a faint hint of Jimin's cologne, sending another jolt of desire through you.

You gripped the sheets tightly, your frustration mounting. It was almost like his presence was everywhere, his scent, his touch, his damn possessive words echoing through your body. You wanted to be angry with him. Wanted to hate the way he made you feel, but instead... all you could think about was how much you wanted him to touch you more.

You groaned into the pillow again, the sound muffled but betraying your frustration and desire. It was a constant battle between your mind and body, one trying to assert dominance over the other. "Stop it," you whispered to yourself, your fingers digging into the mattress. "Stop thinking about him."

"Why?" you whispered, your voice raspy with emotion. "Why does he have this effect on me?" Your body seemed to echo the question, the need for him only growing stronger.

You curled onto your side, drawing your knees into your chest. The emptiness beside you seemed to deepen, the space where he should have been hauntingly empty. "Damn you, Park Jimin," you muttered, your heart aching with a mixture of anger and helpless acceptance. "Damn you for making me feel like this." You buried your face into the pillow, the scent of him lingering there, taunting you.

The worst part was, you didn't want to fight it. You wanted, needed, more of him. Needed what only he could provide. And that terrified you. You'd tried so hard to keep your heart safe, but he'd somehow weaseled his way in, making it damn near impossible to kick him out. It was as if he'd carved out a space for himself, and now the thought of emptiness made your chest ache even more intensely.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing away the tears that threatened to spill. "I hate you," you muttered again, though the words lacked any real conviction.

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