A/N: Stay tuned for the short epilogue

Chapter  6: The End

He drives her to the river in his sports car, and Amber leads him by the hand under the bridge. They listen to the water trickle past as they observe each other. The night is done, and morning approaches. She takes out her spray paint and begins to tag the bridge wall with nonsense. She only has one thing on her mind, but she’s too prideful. He has to pursue it first.

“So how does this night end?” she asks, handing him the can of spray paint.

He thinks for a minute, then adds to her random tag. When he’s done, he hands it back to her and pulls her in close. Chills.  

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he bites his lip and gives her a look she knows all too well.

Amber pulls away smoothly, “Just because I’m from the street, it doesn’t mean I walk one like a e. Why would I sleep with someone who hasn’t even told me his name?”

The stranger chuckles, leaning against the wall and regarding her. The shadow of the water plays across his face. “It’s Jungshin.”

“Jungshin,” she tests the name on her tongue and lips. “Why was that so hard to tell me?”

“So what will it be?” he asks before pulling her back to him and kissing her. Hard and mouthy. Her style.

It was always going to be one thing. And it turns out, he—Jungshin—tastes just as good as he looks.

…….

She doesn’t remember the car ride over, only kissing under the bridge and then staggering through the door of his apartment, eager to strip him of everything and get on her back.

She’s never made love before. Gang girls don’t usually go for the subtle but for the rough, but he makes her make love to him. Everything is slowed, deep, on fire with heat radiating off of him, pulsing through her. He won’t stop tasting her skin. He won’t stop making her savor how he feels. She lets down her guard, her tagged up wall full of and allows that vulnerability she never gives anyone. She makes a mental note to tell Krystal he was extra, extra delicious.  

When daybreak hits, she slips back into her clothes silently and leaves him sprawled out on his mat barely covered by his sheet, sound asleep. She finds her spray paint in her pocket and chuckles. She may be leaving, but she wants to him to know she’ll be back. Eventually. One day. But she belongs to the streets, and that’s where she has to go.

She shakes the spray paint well before spraying onto his wall, marking her territory.

Epilogue to follow….