Kira POV

He didnt eat his food, but i noticed in the morning it was gone. Did he eat it while it was cold? 

I sigh and drop my pencil and calculator. I cant work right now. I know i played Jungkook leaving really cooly, But im already feeling lonely. I hope he doesnt like America too much and decide to stay. I mean i could stay here i guess but its not like it would be the same. It would be too quite and wouldnt smell as good. When he is here we communicate, there is music playing, and the house alwasy smells like his shampoo and rich colgone. 

I stand up and reach for my phone on the side table that is playing some indie mix i found. I find his contact and debate calling him or sending him a message. Its late, he should be home soon. I guess ill just wait and do my work. But what if he got kidnaped? Is it kidnap when you are an adult or is it adultnapped? What if they want ransom, or call me and assume i dont talk on purpose and kill him? What if they tape the whole thing and send it to me with pictures? I run a hand through my hair as the door opens. I turn and see Jungkook taking off his shoes. 

I smile as he walks over to hug me, I inhale his warm spicey scent hoping it wasnt too noticable before he goes to get changed from his fashionable clothes. I put away work and start a pot of water to boil rice for dinner. 

"Dont worry about that. I want to take you out tonight." Jungkook says leaning on the fridge in more casual but still good looking clothes. 

But i already measured the rice

"Its fine. Go get a jacket Kira" He says with a smile. 

I frown but do as he asked non the less. I wanted to prepare dinner for him the night before he leaves so he would remember it, maybe i dont cook as good as a five star restraunt but at least its edible. I grab a hoodie from the foot of my bed and walk back to the front door to put my shoes on. Jungkook helps me lace them and talks to me about his day as we walk to the car. It was surprisingly cold for being a summer night. Maybe the weather knows he is leaving soon. I pout and draw circles in my jeans with my fing