Red is Jungkook's favorite.

Emerging from the bathroom has never been such a heart-pounding ordeal before now.

You scrunch up the silky fabric of your dress in your hands, nerves gnawing at your mind as you smooth it back out.

The hallway spills out into the living room and kitchen, where the men are milling around, speaking to each other in hushed voices that translate to you some of the sobriety they're all obviously feeling.

Even Jimin's chihuahua-like state of hyperactivity has eased into seriousness as he leans into Hoseok, listening to whatever the man is saying.

Jungkook is on the couch, just visible by the back of his ebony-haired head. As you peek around the entryway, he lifts a hand and almost runs it through the soft skeins of his hair. However, his hand stops midair, then drops out of sight as his head tilts down in what appears to be a sigh.

He leans forward, and you get a clear view of the ink scrolling across the back front his neck.

"Y/N." Namjoon's observant eyes have noticed you hovering at the outer rim of the room, reluctant to enter. You hide your body behind the wall, suddenly camera-shy while Mina's words scream like a siren in your head.

Red is Jungkook's favorite.

Wincing, you shake your head rapidly to expel the thought. This is not what you need to be focusing on right now. Taehyung has been kidnapped, and you're about to wander into a room full of killers in order to rescue him. Whether Jungkook starts drooling over you in a red dress or not is completely inconsequential right now.

Said man turns his head at the sound of your name, eyes searching for you.

They find you, and your breath is suddenly gone as they lock with yours.

So deep and black, the kind of eyes that you could fall into with endless, mindless contentment. His gaze pulls you in like a lure, intense and dark.

"What are you doing?" Jin tilts his head to the side, curious as to why your head has entered the room but not the rest of your body. "You look like a floating head. Come out here."

Now they're all looking at you, confused at your hesitancy to show yourself. Clearing your throat to seem as casual as possible, you step out from behind the wall, unconsciously flickering your gaze to Jungkook as the blood-red dress flows out with you. Your leg flashes out through the side slit, and Yoongi whistles.

"Well, you're sure to make a statement," says Jin dryly, lofting one arched eyebrow high.

You blush, realizing with a sudden humiliation that if they look too closely, they'll see the violet blotches of Jungkook's "painting" littering the clean-lined petals of the tattoo.

Indeed, Jin, who's always much more observant that you give him credit for, lets his lips tighten into a smirk on one side; his already arched brows rise and inch or two higher.

Thankfully, he chooses to say nothing as your leg slides back into the waves of the garment.

On the couch, Jungkook turns full to face you, letting you see the full, devastating effect of his face. His hair, which he normally wears down and soft to frame his face, is gelled up to reveal his forehead and eyes in magnificent clarity.

His eyes, which widen by the slightest margin. His lips part to a tiny gape, dark brows arching only the ittiest bit. Although subtle, his eyes are alight with delicious shock at the sight of you all wrapped up in red.

You wait with bated breath for his silky voice to ring out and say something - anything.

However, against the fiery expectations gleaming scarlet and hopeful in your chest, Jungkook's expression snaps back into blank calmness. His lips touch back together, his eyes falling into their normal doe-like state, and the planes of his face relax.

"Finally," he says. "We've been waiting."

...what?

Taking a glance around the room, you see that his unaffected attitude doesn't strike only you as odd.

Yoongi's eyes have almost disappeared in his confusion, and Hoseok's elegant face is twisted into a look of such utter disbelief at the lack of commentary that you almost have to laugh.

The laugh, however, sticks dryly in your throat when it tries to bubble up. A shark javelin of hurt has speared through the bottom of its giggling essence, trapping it in the pit of your stomach until it dissipates into nothing.

"Oh," you say uncertainly. "Sorry."

"No problem." Jungkook stands, all business, and reveals the dapper tux hugging his slender waist. A black bow tie is tucked into the collar of his stark white shirt.

He nods to Namjoon. "Hyung? It's time."

If you're being honest, that sentence - firm and solid as stone when combined with the slick cut of black fabric and his dark eyes beaming - could've been really cool.

It would've been really cool - if he doesn't take a single step forward and trip directly over his own feet.

The breath whooshes out of Jungkook as he pitches forward, catching himself with one hand on the floor and stuttering forward until his precarious balance evens.

You cover your mouth, staring in shock as he straightens up like nothing happened. The whole room is frozen as he regains his bearings, brushing the lapels of his tux as if he's just noticed a piece of fuzz on them.

"Let's go get hyung," Jungkook says deeply.

He strides forward again- and slams his foot into the leg of the coffee table.

His lips tighten in pain, but he doesn't utter a word.

What...what is happening?

You exchange a glance with Hoseok, whose mouth is still pulled back over his teeth in a grimace at the oddity, and Jimin, who's got his hand to his face like yours, but to hold back his laughter.

All six of you can't do anything else by watch in horror, the kind of gaze that keeps your eyes locked onto two trains rushing down the tracks toward each other.

"Jungkook?" asks Jimin. "Are you okay?"

"Yep. I'm just red to go. Ready. I'm ready to go. Come on." He walks with a weird, zombie-like swagger to the door, barely staggering as he smacks his shoulder into the door frame on the way out.

"Y/N," says Jin as soon as the youngest is out of earshot, "-you broke him."

Yoongi tsks and shakes his head. "Look at him, trying to be smooth when all he wants to do is drag you back into that bathroom and-"

"-tell you how beautiful you are." Jin gives Yoongi a squinty-eyed glare, pursing his lips as a blush redder than your dress erupts like lava across your cheeks.

"Okay, let's just go before Jungkook accidentally gets hit by a car outside, hm?" Namjoon starts to usher you all to the door, and you see with a huff that Mina has left a pair of black heels sitting there.

She really isn't picking mission clothes out very well - there's no way you can run on these sky-scraping toothpicks without face planting.

You step them on and stand, already wincing at the pull on your calves.

Outside, Jungkook is rocking back and forth on his heels in the cool air, bouncing in a way that speaks of impatient anxiousness.

When you approach, Namjoon and Hoseok on either side of you, he gives you one long, slow blink, the dark irises disappearing behind a fringey forest of pitch-hued lashes.

Then he turns, immediately, to Namjoon.

"Come on," Jungkook says gruffly. "We're wasting time."

He climbs into the car.

A hand pats you on the shoulder from behind, and Jimin sighs.

"Just wait. He'll come around soon," Namjoon perceives, peering into the tinted windows of the SUV. "Just wait until he stops thinking about that dress and starts thinking about what we're about to do. Once it hits him that we're about to skip into a ballroom full of people who want to kill us, he won't care wether you're in a red dress or a paper bag."

"Yeah," echoes Jin. "He'll just want to hold your hand the whole way there. I want to hold your hand, and I'm not even in love with you."

In love with you.

You bite your lip and reach back to grab Jin's large palm in yours. His skin is chilly with nerves, belying the confidence he's putting on show.

"You don't have to be in love with me to hold my hand," you mumble, and lead the small group of men to the car.

[A/N]
Unedited