Grey closed her bedroom door, wanting nothing none other than to fall asleep.
As she let her hair down and crossed her personal living room, a knock postponed her appointment with the bed. In a few strides, she was pulling it open, expecting it to be Taehyung or Hoseok after she snuck past them in the Great Hall. Instead, Jungkook waited with his hands in his pockets.
"I heard you had another attack today. Are you alright?"
She nodded, glad that it was him. He was out of his work clothes, a black tee shirt and gray sweatpants working as what had to be his lounging outfit. Even without the suit and tie, he was just as handsome. Boyish, and rendering her speechless.
"I'm fine. Yoongi got scratched though. If you see him, please apologize for me."
Jungkook leaned against her doorframe. "Apologize for what?"
"He got hurt helping me. I don't want to be so troublesome."
He rolled his eyes, a small smile blooming on his lips. "You shouldn't fuss over him. He's one of the best fighters in our group."
"Really?" Grey put her hands on her hips. It wasn't that hard to imagine Yoongi being the best. He was a walking ghost with daggers. How could you fight something you couldn't see? "That doesn't mean I shouldn't care."
"Why should you? You don't really know any of us yet. This isn't the first time we've been targeted either."
"I don't need to know you. If you risk your life for me, it's enough. I care."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"Don't you care about anything? There has to be something."
"I care about you coming back. The whole assignment is to keep you in one piece."
Point duly noted. Jungkook grabbed her door handle. "Try to get some rest for work tomorrow. I'll check up on you again in the morning. Glad you're safe."
Her door shut gently. He cared about her coming back in one piece, huh? Hmph.
She trekked across her foyer and living room, opening the double doors to her bedroom. Grey switched on the lights, releasing a yawn as she acknowledged her enormous bed.
"Tired already?"
Grey jumped, glowering at the lone figure snuggled in the center of her sheets with his hands behind his head.
"Get dressed," Jimin commanded. "It's my turn to guard you and we're going out."
Grey caught a glimpse of the outside city. A black starless sky blanketed neighboring skyscrapers. The heads and taillights of cars zoomed by on the streets below. Everything she spotted affirmed her calculations. It was night. She had work tomorrow. The time to sleep was now.
She said, "It's late."
"Is it? I couldn't tell."
"I start a new job tomorrow."
"You'll do great. If you don't have any other fascinating statements, you should head to your closet."
She bit back a smart reply, opting instead to calm down. "I'm safe here. Bringing me out will cause more trouble."
Jimin sat up from the bed. He smiled to himself, enjoying his own personal joke. "There's more to life than being safe."
She watched him march to her closet and fling open the doors. Her new clothes were already color-coded and hanging on different racks and shelves. He ventured inside, leaving her gaping by the entrance. She scurried to find him, reining in her awe at how deep this room was, how she had so much space and couture. He ran one hand through his platinum hair and reached for a floor length black dress.
"This would be perfect." He laid it out on an ottoman. It had spaghetti straps without a back and by the lengthy slit in the bottom, she figured there wouldn't be very much of her legs left to the imagination. "I'll let you pick the rest. Try to be in the Great Hall in the next twenty minutes."
"I really, really think sleep is the thing I need."
"You should take your mind off things. You have every day to sit at that desk downstairs, but you don't have every moment to spend with me. Wear this too," his eyes widened a fraction, smug grin unsettling her from where she stood. He plucked a piece of jewelry from one of her displays and put it over the silky dress.
"Hold on a second. Barely thirty minutes ago I almost died again, and you are my escape?"
He pretended to consider it by putting a contemplative finger on his full lips. "Yes. And don't let irkans dictate your decisions. You can roam wherever you want." He walked past her, the embodiment of fearlessness. "You have nothing to worry about."
"Why is that?"
"Yoongi is not the only one people know better than to touch."
:::
Grey kept her head down and marched towards the Great Hall. Jimin waited by the elevator, checking his watch. He did not appear as an angel in his all-black suit. If there was any way to describe him, he was more like a dark lord; a prince of temptation. His stormy blue eyes landed on her, and she swallowed defiantly even as she strode to his side.
His attention roamed from the strapped stilettos to her legs, traveling from the dress to the diamond choker around her neck. At last, he reached her face. And when he did, he smiled.
"You look stunning."
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, returning his sensual smile with a glare. "I bet."
He pressed the call button. "You're fiery tonight."
"Can't say there are many people that really get under my skin."
"You make it so easy."
The elevator doors opened, Jimin gesturing for her to enter first. She pressed the button to the lobby and crossed her arms. His smirk made this more painful, if that was even possible. Not once had she ever met anyone that lit her on fire with a silent glance. She tried not to let it phase her, surging from the elevator as soon as she could.
His voice floated to her from behind. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're nervous around me."
She ignored him, getting a bit cold as more night air than usual grazed her back, arms, and legs. He called to her again. "Do you know where my car is?"
She stopped. Taking a deep breath, she turned and said, "No, I don't. I'm still trying to piece together how you got me outside."
He clicked his car keys, an alarm whooping in a distant corner. Then, he measured her evenly, giving no sign that her words penetrated his thick skull. "I wanted you to be my date to a party tonight. You know, have a little bit of fun away from the skyscraper. If you don't want to come, you can stay here."
Damnit. That wasn't fair. He couldn't turn from international playboy to normal person with feelings that quickly. She looked away, annoyed with her own behavior. There was a right to be upset if he actually liked her, but she had no evidence to prove that. For all she knew, he pushed her buttons because he could. Plus, she was the only girl in the vicinity. Of course he'd come to her first.
"I'll be your date," she mumbled. "Mute all the charm."
"I don't know if I can do that." He passed her and neared a white Maserati, the headlights beaming neon and engine revving to life by the click of a button. He opened her door and rounded the hood to sit in his own seat. When she finished putting on her seatbelt, he drove.
"Where are we going? A party?"
"If you want to call it that. Though, you probably aren't much fun at parties. Too serious."
She frowned at him, recalling her wildest memories. Which, weren't wild at all save for a few tiny things--things that Amelia dared her to do. Cause a scene, get a phone number, eat without silverware.
"Are you calling me boring?"
He laughed, licking his bottom lip. She hated that she watched it happen, hated that it made her feel a certain way. He drove with one hand, the other gripping the gear stick. "I'm not calling you loose."
Because Grey and loose never came together in the same sentence. She paid close attention to detail and organization. Chaos was not in her vocabulary. Still... to say she was boring?
"You don't know what I am. So where are we really going?"
He waited for a pedestrian to cross before making a right. "A marketing event at Legacy, one of the downtown clubs."
"Modeling job?"
He nodded, that annoying smirk coming back. "How did you know?"
I died at the sight of your photo.
"Passed by your face in the mall."
"How did I look?"
She should have seen this coming from a mile away. The handsome bastard tapped a finger on the steering wheel like he had all the time in the world to hear her answer.
"You looked good," she said, staring out the window. She covered her ring finger while all the adjectives she could have said flipped through her mind. Her favorite one was godlike.
He parked the car on the side of the street, coming to her side and helping her out. He waited for her to smooth her dress down before extending an arm. She took it, not daring to look his way. Music filtered down the street. The pulse of the bass thumped through her chest from where they walked.
The line for Legacy rounded an entire corner, men and women huddling together in anticipation of reaching the bar and dance floor inside. Grey passed by a group of girls her age, noting their not-so-subtle plunging necklines and mini skirts. One of the women glanced at her and then at the man on her arm. She retreated into her circle, shamelessly giving the angel double takes. "Is that Park Jimin?"
One of the girls gasped, leaning against the line's divider. "Oppa! Over here!"
Another one waved. "Do you think you can get us in?"
Grey glanced back and Jimin placed a hand over hers. "Don't pay attention to them."
She nodded, turning back around to stop at his side. The music was much louder near the grand doors. The inside of the club filled with a purple haze, blue and red lights flashing over the entrance. A security guard in all black with a clipboard and pen behind his ear sized them up.
"Jimin," the burly man grinned, checking something off of his clipboard, "It's nice to see you. Celia is inside by one of the V.I.P. couches." He let the angel pass, and when Grey tried to follow, he held up a meaty hand. "You aren't on the list."
Grey raised an eyebrow, willing confidence into her voice. "Then your list is wrong."
"This one is mine," said Jimin, "Isn't she lovely?" He smoothly pulled her closer, one arm gliding from her back to the side of her hip--an inch further to the right and he'd be dangerously close to a punch in the jaw. Her eyes widened a fraction at the sudden act, but she didn't flinch. Instead, when the guard grimaced, she coiled an arm around Jimin's shoulders and gave him a look of adoration.
"Damn right I am," she said sweetly in his ear. His head tilted in surprise, but he did not falter. Even so, she noticed the change in his grin and she reveled in it. Boring, huh?
To the guard, Jimin sighed. "Do I need to prove it to you?"
She stiffened at his question. He didn't have to prove anything. If they weren't pulling it off already then they could just leave. Though she couldn't show it, she planned to skin him alive if he so much as touched her in a way she didn't like. The guard crossed his arms expectantly.
Her arm slid from Jimin's back. It was just a nightclub and the immortal could score a modeling job anywhere. He didn't need to bluff or beg.
At least, that's what she was thinking until Jimin's fingers lifted her chin and his thumb trailed down her bottom lip. Involuntarily, she gasped as he placed a slow, gentle kiss on the skin below her ear, moving down the side of her jaw with patience. Then, his lips moved closer to hers. As they hovered a hair's width away, the man groaned and swore. "Take her in already."
Jimin let her go immediately, taking a few steps back to breathe in the night air and avoid her glare. She wasted no time stomping past the man and charging through the doors. The angel was fast on her heels. He grabbed her hand from behind to stop her. When she whirled on him, her cheeks were scarlet.
"The next time you attempt something like that, you're dead."
Genuine worry wavered in his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it would go that far."
"Do you kiss all of your fake dates like that? Why even kiss me at all?" She thought back to it. Where his soft lips pressed her skin burned. The sting remained there, a persistent reminder of the electric rush humming through the side of her face. He was so slow, so careful.
"Please forgive me. I made a plan, I couldn't back out."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. You went through with the plan pretty easily."
"Oh, I was the only one that got carried away? I'll pretend like I didn't hear that gasp."
She shoved him in the chest. "You love to flatter yourself."
"You love to deny that we have a lot in common."
Grey scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jimin said, "Get a drink with me."
"Fine." She took the hand he offered and pushed through the swaying crowd. He grabbed two barstools in the center of the blue neon bar and called the bartender by raising his hand. The natural warmth from the lights that glowed between the table top and walls was absolute bliss. Grey pressed her hands on the glass.
"A beer for me," Jimin looked to Grey for her order.
She leaned forward so that the man behind the counter could hear. "A Shirley Temple, please." To Jimin she said, "Don't even think about teasing me."
He raised an eyebrow, pointing to the ceiling where the speakers drowned out every semblance of noise. She leaned closer, practically shouting over the beat. "I like Shirley Temples and you're not going to give me a hard time."
His entire body shook with laughter. "Are you going to thank me?"
She shook her head as the bartender returned with their drinks. Jimin slipped him cash without taking his eyes off her. Grey asked, "Who is Celia?"
Jimin pointed to the balcony of the second floor. A few people rested on white leather couches aligned in rows, all of them accompanied by bottles of whatever preferred poison drenched in ice. Behind them, silhouettes of others rocked to the music. Security guards in all black spread out by the railing, also blocking the glass staircase to that area. However, the angel's finger led to a middle aged woman that seemed to be the center of attention. She wore a white suit, long brown hair cascading over one of her shoulders. Her features were foreign, more European.
"That," he yelled, "is Celia Camille. She is a new designer in France. Her brand is named Forbidden. She is here for vacation and inspiration, and she requested to meet me here."
"She's beautiful," Grey blurted, taking a sip from her straw. "Why don't you go talk to her?"
"I--," Jimin shook his head, looking at the floor. "I don't know if I'm the look she wants."
"Are you kidding?" Grey slammed her drink onto the bar a little too hard. Drops of sweet soda splashed onto her hand, she licked them off, trying not to think too much about him still watching her. "Give me a break! You? Not the right look?"
She expected him to tell her he was kidding, maybe nudge her playfully. Instead, he retracted into deep thought, his face blank but his eyes brooding.
"Park Jimin. Look at me." He obeyed, and she almost flinched at the amount of uncertainty that lingered in those twin oceans. "I will not allow you to talk sweet, charming shit and not back it up. Celia Camille wants you, you don't need her. You were everything in that Prada ad. Don't get all doubtful on me now."
He sat in stunned silence, but the clouds still hung over his head. "It's not that easy. I've seen her work, and when she blows up she's going to be huge. She already knows she's on her way up."
"How about this," she flipped her hair over her shoulder, "If you talk to her, then I loosen up. The best you can do is give it a shot. If she doesn't want you, then she doesn't. Doesn't change the fact that you're you."
"Done."
He made the deal a bit too easily for her comfort, and gosh, his smile was so evil. The red lights from the dance floor made his eyes a matching scarlet, and if that wasn't foreboding enough, she didn't know what was. Grey held out her hand in the space between them. He took it and shook once, keeping them together so he could lead her away from the bar.
The pair ascended the steps after clearing through bundles of different dancers and partiers. After gaining clearance from the guards, she pat Jimin on the shoulder while he adjusted his jacket and ran a hand through his hair. As he came closer, Celia peered up from her glass of champagne.
"Ah! Welcome! Park Jimin, c'est tellement merveilleux de te rencontrer en personne." She pushed from the couch and embraced him in a large hug, her lips grazing his cheek in a warm welcome. When she pulled away, her eyes fell on Grey. "Well, who do we have here," Celia glanced at the aura ring and then at Jimin, "a fiancée?"
Jimin opened his mouth to answer, Grey interrupted. "Yes," she said.
Celia's face lit up, her arms going around Grey as well. She smelled faintly of cigarettes disguised by Chanel perfume. She also planted a kiss on each of Grey's cheeks, her smile more than inviting. Except, the calculation in her eyes was unmistakeable. As though she'd been sharpening it for decades, weeding out the good from the bad.
The designer stole a swig from her glass. "When is the wedding?"
"We haven't decided yet," Grey added, hoping to change the subject. She lied to be spontaneous, not to be interrogated. Besides, being spontaneous was the opposite of being boring, right?
Jimin must have felt the fire fading, as he cleared his throat. "I understand that you are here for recruiting. Have you hired anyone since the start of your trip?"
She placed her flute on a nearby table. "No, I have a special muse in mind. Someone with enough experience for the role. A model that can convey love and passion and scorn. The embodiment of vice." She looked him up and down, the level of scrutiny high enough to make Grey feel judged. She clicked her tongue, pressing her lips into a flat line. "I feel a hollow darkness coming from you. It is not what I expected."
What did any of that even mean? Grey resisted the urge to question any further. It wasn't her interview, and it surely wasn't her place to fight for the man that held the sole duty of keeping her safe.
Jimin shifted his weight onto his other leg. It seemed like he, too, tried to grasp just what she was getting at. She circled him, a vulture observing her next meal. She spoke to herself, shook her head, sometimes shrugged. When she stood in front of them both, her expression was unreadable.
"The position is still yours if you'd like it."
Grey smiled at the same time as Jimin. He nodded. "It would be my pleasure."
She clapped her hands. "Then stay here and celebrate with me... or you can have your own celebration," her knowing gaze darted between them. Grey fanned herself with one hand, the heat from all the bodies in the nightclub finally hitting her. She wouldn't let herself believe it was anything else. The designer wandered back to her couch.
Jimin turned to her. "We're engaged? Is that how you loosen up?"
"Congratulations, by the way. And yes, I was going with the flow."
"When I go, come with me."
She smoothed the skirt of her dress, pulling down the slit. "Why? You'll be fine."
He shrugged. "It was easier with you here. Part of the reason why I asked for your company."
"A compliment from Park Jimin? I must be asleep in my room after all." She pinched her arm.
He glared. "I do have a heart, Grey."
"I'll be there," she laughed, the sound dropping off when she finished her sentence, "but get touchy again, and that whole skyscraper is coming down."
:::
(A/N) Inspiring reader,
Next release: 6/21 (June 21st)
With love,
M