Her voice resounds of a hymns of a song of sorts, resonating of honey, lilac, roses and liquid gold. Parted lips paint a smile of complete jubilation, eyes falling shut at the last moments of her intimate voice against the microphone causing for expressions of bliss to spread through his veins and into his bones like wildfire. He swears he can feel his muscles loosening at her voice, at the acoustic rendition of her song which causes for hedonism for most people trapped in the venue. She’s leaving a powerful impression on a lot of idols tonight, he knows. The sweetness in the tone of her voice, is truly remarkable, it has in many respects, become the definition of home. 

It’s instinct. 

He knows he’ll get caught by fan cams before he even gets a chance to get back into his dorm.

But he doesn’t care. 

He’s certain that it’s impossible, in many respects, for someone to hear such a melody without any sort of reaction.

It’s almost as though Park Chaeyoung has a gravitational field that pulls him in, like the sun over the earth that is so overwhelmingly consuming. 

He watches, like a scientist in disguise at the burning attraction like months to a flame. 

It won’t take long for her to burn him, he knows but until then, he’ll learn to enjoy the ride. 

“  Congratulations on last night’s win, ”  he announces his presence in her private dressing room, closing the door shut as he watches her with a pinched expression, head titled with her hand over her ear, a gesture he’s become well too familiar with over the years, “  …  ah, you learn to get over the ringing. Your performance was really beautiful, Chaeyoung. ”

He promised himself that he wouldn’t give her the gratification, the satisfaction of a compliment on her vocal abilities but like a lot of things relating to her, the standard laws he’s imposed on himself wasn’t enough. His eyes follow her, watching as her lack of a coherent expression turns into a sly smile, something that was genuinely inflicted and not at all forced. 

“  Thank you, ” her eyes linger over his form from head to toe, resting on his shoulders before looking back at his dark hues, “ … it feels good to be back on the track, so thank you. ”

He wonders whether she truly loves to race more than the stage, perhaps, it’s an outrageous thought, something he’ll never understand. Yet, he can’t help but note the fact that his compliment on her racing seemed to be the only thing that mattered to her, at that moment. 

He had kept his word, no meaningless with other people, yet somehow, he still feels like it wasn’t enough. 

A part of him feels guilt.

Something had been trampling through his mind though and that was the fact, that he willingly decided to be her fake boyfriend. 

It wasn’t even that, that caused such an uneasiness in the depths of his stomach but the fact that such a cover up, felt primal, it felt like the most natural and organic suggestion to depart from his lips. The faux relationship, felt like instinct. 

He’s still wondering why he did it.

“  I missed you,  ”  he speaks three words as though it’s all that he’s capable of offering, like it’s somehow enough of an excuse to have it so that she doesn’t push him away and send him off despite knowing very well that it’s what he deserves.

Jeon Jungkook pauses, not because of a sudden unrelenting regret that pangs across his body at the truth that his words had spilled, but because he doesn’t want the lingering feeling of their paths orbit clashing to burn heavy, he doesn’t want to sit heavy in the air between them, to have a conversation that he knows he’d wish he didn’t have to hear from her. 

He wants to be with her, to play out the role of a boyfriend that he never knew he truly had ever wanted and to hear the rest of her vulnerable voice against the guitar and more importantly, he wants it to be as easy as it was to have her presence suddenly creep into his life and consume