pg 13 | happy ending of you've got your demons (and darling it all look like me)

 

—

 

 

minjeong thinks there are certain moments wherein life is just pure —

 

like when she dropped a packet of large fries on her way back to their dorm.

 

like when she forgot her id one time back in middle school and she had to go back home to fetch it.

 

or when she dropped the iced coffee she recently got off the counter from her favorite coffee shop.

 

or—

 

 

 

like when she saw her locking her lips with him.

 

 

she felt like breaking down—

 

breaking down...

 

breaking down...

 

but it doesn't make sense, they're nothing but friends. 

 

right?

 

so she did what she does best—run.

 

run from her problems and her feelings and two laps around that olympic size park. in her sweatpants and hoodie and her running pumps.

 

run from her conflicting emotions and let her lungs constrict in a painful way as oxygen burn her blood.

 

tasting iron in .

 

neverminding it's too early at four am, never mind that it's too cold out, never really minding the weather.

 

because jimin—the ever so gorgeous jimin, is locking her lips with someone who isn't her.

 

 

————————————

 

you're always looking for her.

 

looking at her.

 

and you don't admit it but you love the way she's getting flustered whenever she catches you staring.

 

you're thriving off of the giddiness she's expressing, like she's got a crush on you, but it's a top-secret (or she doesn't know it yet.)

 

you're always looking for her—at her, because she deserves to be looked at, stared at, and if it was up to you you'd flaunt her up in the middle of an art museum because she deserves to be worshipped like a century-old art.

 

 

 

but it was also up to you to cut everything that was going on between the two of you.

 

not that there's much—

 

(oh yes there is, but you're too dumb because you're minjeong)

 

and you thought ending this—whatever this is—would be best for both of you.

 

because what?

 

are you going to come out and tell everyone that you're head over heels in love with your best friend?

 

that you lived your nights tossing and turning in your bed because you're itching to knock on her door, kiss her senseless against her wall?

 

that you had to forbid your hands from slithering down your pants and touch yourself with the thought of her breath hitching in your neck, her body burning under your touches, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust?

 

 

—

 

 the first time leaves you gasping for breath.

 

it had been months since you last tasted her lips, and you finally understand how addicts crave drugs because of the withdrawals you're having.

 

it makes your heart throb agonizingly—as if it's on the verge of breaking.

 

(it probably is)

 

and you inhale the bitter taste in your mouth of being inches away from her but never really able to taste her.

 

all-the-ing-time.

 

she's your drug—

 

and you're insatiable. 

 

 

 

 

so that one night after staying out late to shoot for your latest music video, you finally caved in.

 

she opens her door, eyes wide in shock because she never expected you'd come back knocking on her door again.

 

eyes wide in shock because she never expected your lips would meet hers again.

 

that her back will collide painfully yet bittersweet on her wall again.

 

that your fingers would soon find their way fiddling on her buttons again.

 

and more.

 

and more.

 

and more.

 

she falls down on her bed and you fall on top of her.

 

lips and tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange of moans and breaths.

 

your hands are everywhere, but hers was just gripping you tight around your waist, like she's afraid you're going to go away again.

 

hands gripping on your skin, murmuring please don't leave me again.

 

and you don't.

 

you stayed, worshiping her body with the reverence it deserves—

 

using your lips and tongue and teeth with her body underneath.

 

she moaned and you rolled your eyes as you ing finally removed the last piece of her clothing.

 

she's breathtaking.

 

you stare at her and she looks at you, with eyes begging please don't leave me again.

 

you dove back into her lips, into her neck, into the valley of her chest as she pants on your neck and grips the back of your head.

 

she whimpers and you smirked when she lets go of that breath she was holding because —

 

you drink her all up and as soon as she comes down from the high of you worshipping the valley between her thighs, she looks at you and whispers please don't leave me again.

 

and you held her tight, sleeping in her bed that night.

 

a silent promise that yes, you're never going to leave her again.

 

 

 

—

 

 

you stay awake the next night because you just couldn't sleep.

 

you've actually tasted her, and you initially thought you're going to be satiated once you finally did.

 

(oh you were so wrong, you don't realize you're on the road to madness)

 

you don't lock your door at night, and she knows that.

 

you can't sleep tonight, and she knows that.

 

she knows that because she's turning your knob open and she's locking it behind her, and you'd be lying to yourself if you will say you were not expecting this to happen.

 

she drops on top of you and kisses you hard—harder than all of your past kisses combined.

 

she nips on your neck and you're sure she's marking you, but you can't get her to stop because—oh does that feel so good

 

she's taking off your shirt and you're taking off her pj's, and you both can't wait to get your skin touching as close as humanely possible.

 

you tried to pull her down so you can come back up, but she pushes you down because this way you can't leave me again.

 

she dips inside you and you rolled your eyes as you moan her name.

 

she moves inside you and you whimper underneath her gasping for air.

 

she kisses you hard and pins your hands above your head, whispering dirty things in your mouth.

 

she pins your hands above your head, saying this way you can't leave me again.