Annie

Days on trial: 75

"You're going grey, Annie," Yoongi's monotone voice sounded from across the office, the corners of his lips lifted upwards softly.

"Just left my toner in for too long, that's all," I rolled my eyes, not paying him much attention. It was the peril of liking the smell of my purple shampoo too much; my hair always ended up a little bit too silver.

"Not just talking about that," he spoke carefully, not wanting to overstep a boundary.

While we hadn't known each other all that long, Yoongi and I got on like a house on fire. He'd become such an asset to the office that Chloe had been speaking with the National branch to try and increase our budget to add him to the payroll - though he kept insisting it was fine. Whatever he and Jin used to get up into the city must have been lucrative, to say the least.

I was burning the candle at both ends, and this gag order was holding up a flame to the centre of the candle, too.

"That obvious?" I asked of my stress levels.

"Never seen anyone chew on their cheeks so hard without swallowing a couple MDMA pills first," he shrugged, ignoring my raised brows at his comparison. "What's grinding your gears? Things alright with your boy?"

I couldn't help but smile at the mention of Jungkook. Drawing on nearly 24 hours since he had last been in the office, I somehow found myself missing him already. Hell, I'd missed him since the moment he had left.

"Things are grand," I admitted bashfully. "Really, really good."

"You guys look sweet together," Yoongi affirmed. I'd never heard anyone say that about us, or anything really about us as a couple, so it was nice. "Seems like a good guy."

"You just want me to talk him into getting you free upgrades for your bike," I jokingly narrowed my eyes at him. Opening up and talking so freely about my feelings wasn't something that came easy to me. It had taken Jungkook long enough to get me to even admit that I could see a single colour for him. Like a burst dam, once I started I just couldn't stop, but he was lucky that he weakened my barriers so much it had broken in the first place.

"Ah, you've got me," Yoongi joked back. Naturally perceptive, he could sense when I wasn't going to open up, so he didn't push any further. "What about the gag order? Any word on that?"

It felt like it had been the only thing we'd discussed in the office for the last week. With the backing of our parent Gazette, The National, we were pretty confident that we'd be able to get it thrown out, but nothing was certain.

"The fuckers are throwing a lot of money into it," I sighed. "I always knew we'd get backlash from corporate slimebags over the article, but I thought it would come after publication. Didn't even consider not being able to go to publication at all."

It had been something I had discussed with the Doctor in our first interview, how big businesses had blocked his trials for decades because it would lose them business if the drugs were successful. If people were no longer resigned to an eternal life of Mono, or could choose to simply be Multi even when they weren't in love, Mono department stores would be out of business.

Hell, even Jungkook's main source of income would be lost.

The difference between his dad's garage and conglomerates sitting atop a pile of cash was that the latter had lost their sense of humanity. Jungkook knew all of his customers and clients by name. Big businesses new sales stats and how to avoid tax. They weren't the same.

"Which businesses are they again? The ones hoping to gag the Gazette?" Yoongi asked, tapping away into Jin's computer.

Jin had been out all week covering student protests over a rent increase, and had specifically ordered Yoongi to stay at the office out of fear of him joining in the protests too. 'What can I say?' he had shrugged on the first day of being cooped up in the office. 'Anarchy is my thing.'

Looking over the file I had open regarding the notice of injunction, I read the names aloud.

"MonoWorks, the Mono recruitment agency," I began to list. "Blanc Noir, the broadcasting agency who decolourise everything, and Cait&Co, the department store."

"Overpriced fuckers," Yoongi mumbled, his distaste for the bourgeoisie making itself known again. We'd had many conversations over the moral compass of those who profited from the forlorn and heartbroken. "Huh, that's weird," he muttered, fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

"What is?" I hummed absentmindedly, refocusing on sorting through my sources for the story.

"Cait&Co have their head office in Busan. Just figured it would be up in Seoul like the others."

"Here?" I turned my head, brows taut in a less than attractive manner. "Bastards are on our doorstep and would rather slap us with a gag order instead of speaking to us directly? Cowards."

"Says here," Yoongi began, eyes scanning the webpage he had open. "That Cait&Co have been active in Busan since the '60s. Get this - 'Relocating to South Korea at the start of the financial boom, Caitiff took advantage of the risi-'"

My ears pinged, heart resting in my throat as I interrupted Yoongi's recital.

"Cait-who?"

"Err," He scrolled back up the page and searched for answers. "Robert Caitiff. Was a New Yorker who came over to exploit the economic turn after the war, and ended up completely monopolising the Mono market, by utilising trade practices that had been working in the states."

"Shitting hell," I breathed out, catching Yoongi's gaze. "Still in the family?"

"Uh, yeah," he flicked back down to the screen. "Caitiff passed away in 2008, but his son, Robert Caitiff Jr had already taken the helm at the turn of the century. Three kids. Two boys and a girl. Oh, Jesus Christ, another Robert Jr, a James and a-"

"Blair?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded, before snapping his neck up so quickly I could have sworn I heard his bones move. "How'd-"

"Blair fucking Caitiff," I laughed, ignoring his curiosity. "Should've guessed it."

Jungkook had told me about Tiff's phone call in the presence of Yoongi yesterday, so he knew exactly who she was and just how un-bloody-bearable she'd been.

I spoke her name out loud again, following it up with her nickname, and watched as his mouth formed an 'o',

Oh, indeed. Oh shit.

"You think she knows?" Yoongi pondered, knowing the answer already. Of course she did.

"Why else would you keep harassing an ex who you didn't see colour for?" I theorised to Yoongi.

"Dunno. Girls are mental," he shrugged, earning a screwed up post-it note being fired in his direction. "Hey! Tell me that she isn't mental."

"I can't."

"Exactly."

We spent the rest of the afternoon trawling through the history of the three companies trying to stop the story from going to print. 

If Tiff had been harassing Jungkook in an attempt to fuck with the story, then we'd potentially not only be able to get their gag order thrown out, but counterclaim against them for attempting to prevent freedom of the press.

As the report was entirely for the greater interest of public health and wellbeing, there would be no way for them to claim against us after the publication went to press. They knew this. It's why they'd been trying to get the gag order in place - and now that it wasn't working, they were trying to fuck with my lead source instead.

It seemed stupid, because no matter how furious I was over the callous attempts to run my story into the ground, it didn't compare to how I felt about them using Tiff to target Jungkook. How dare they?!

I'd fumed about it for almost an hour straight, until Yoongi started grinning at me like an idiot.

"You're so in love, aren't you?" He teased. "Go on, admit it."

I paused my rant to glare at him, despite my wide smile. It was written all over my face. Unlike earlier, he didn't let it drop, not even when Jungkook turned up to walk me home at the end of his shift.

Dressed in all black, his jeans were speckled in paint from a day full of commissions, hands in need of some white spirit. I loved seeing him like this, covered in the chaos of his craft. His silky black hair had been swept back ever so slightly, falling casually just above one eye. The cold wind had battered against his skin, blushing it ever so faintly, and all I wanted to do was warm him up.

"I hear you two are in love?" Yoongi chose to ask, instead of greeting Jungkook 'hello' like a normal human being.

"Well, yeah?" Jungkook questioned back, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"HA!"

"Fuck off, Yoongi!"

"Er, I mean, no? I can't stand her actually?" Jungkook backtracked, not realising quite what he had walked into.

"Ouch," I pouted with a glint in my eye to let him know I was just messing with him. "Feelings mutual."

"Wanna go somewhere and mutually hate each others company?" He held his hand out for me to take, which I did so willingly, the simmering tension between the pair of us heating our skin.

"You kids are adorable," Yoongi shouted after us, as we both told him to fuck off in unison.

We made up for formalities on our walk down the stairs from my office, the chilly sea air causing me to tense a little. Yoongi had a penchant for turning the office heaters to full, which I could definitely feel now that I wasn't in there.

So enamoured with Jungkook's company, I just wanted to hear all about his day. Ruining it with unconfirmed revelations wouldn't have done either of us any favours, so I pushed thoughts of the gag order to the back of my head.

"You're quiet," he noted with a small pout. "You good?"

"Never better," I held onto him tightly. "Just like hearing you talk."

It wasn't a lie. I half wished that I could just listen to him on repeat all day as if he were my favourite song.

"Sure?" his voice was adorably soft, laced with concern.

"Positive," I nodded, guiding us into a slightly more secluded lane, knowing that the only to get him to stop overthinking was to get him to stop thinking full stop.

"Where are you taking me?" He questioned, slightly bemused by my unannounced reroute.

Dipping into the loading bay behind an old bakery which had been vacant for quite some time, I let him tower over me, pressing my back to the wall. Looking at him through my lashes, he knew what I wanted - and he was never one to disappoint.

Lips pressing into mine with urgency, there was a hunger to the way his lips latched onto me. This hunger wasn't anything new, but it felt as if I'd never be able to suppress it; never be able to give him enough - but I'd be damned if I ever stopped trying.

There was a graze of his teeth against my lips, accidental but not unwelcome. His pelvis pressed against my stomach, trapping me entirely, rendering me a pawn in his own personal game of chess. I knew as soon as he flicked his tongue into my mouth, then that would be it. CheckMate.

I'd let him win over and over again, and I'd pretend as if I hadn't predicted his moves the whole time. I'd let him win, and I'd let him believe that he had won, because I wanted him to win. I wanted him to have it all.

Laboured breaths and dulcet moans added harmonies to the sound of him applying and withdrawing pressure. It was maddening. How could I ever be expected to think straight when my thoughts were just entirely comprised of him? God, he was like a drug.

Tongue sweet, traces of caramel coffee syrup penetrated my senses. With his hands cradling my jaw, it was as if Jungkook was scared he'd never get to kiss me again. The desperate, needy, nature of his feverish lips only served to make sure that I'd let him do it for the rest of his life, if he wanted.

"I missed you today," he finally broke the kiss and mumbled into my lips, stealing a few more innocent pecks. I'd been almost radio silent on him throughout the day, as I'd been so engrossed in work, and I felt awful for it. I didn't like the idea of leaving him in the lurch.

"Couldn't tell," I beamed against him, stealing a few of my own. "Missed you more."

"Impossible, pretty baby."

I didn't know how he expected me not to kiss him again when he called me that - though I half suspected it was exactly what he had wanted. Hands gripping my waist, I felt like I was a teenager all over again, sneaking around with a boy so that I wouldn't get caught underneath the bleachers. He had a playful sense of adventure to him that made it easy to indulge in such childish behaviour.

"What's Hobi doing tonight?" I asked a little breathlessly in between tiny kisses.

"Why?" Jungkook smirked against me, dipping his head down to catch my neck with his lips. "You wanna hang out with him instead? Ouch."

"Fuck off," I laughed, cheeks blushing as it drawled into a moan instead. "Quite the opposite actually."

I knew that Jimin was having dinner with Chloe's parents tonight, which meant that all that stood in my way of me, Jungkook and an empty apartment was Hobi. We could have always just gone to mine, but his was closer, and I couldn't wait.

"You'll be pleased to know he's out with his work friends tonight," Jungkook's prominent teeth grazed against my skin, causing me to purr as he did so. "Fuck it, let's go."

Stealing one final kiss from my lips, he picked my work bag up and slung it over his shoulder, holding it in place. He took my hand in his other, fingers interlaced with my own as we wandered through the streets, talking about inconsequential nonsense the whole way back. As we walked, he tapped through an order for our favourite burger joint. Neither of us fancied cooking, and this way we could just unwind and relax for the duration of the evening.

Occasionally he'd draw me into side lanes to lure me in for a kiss (or four), my back pressed against brick walls until he'd get spooked by the rustle of a seagull in a bin or a car passing by. With a laugh and a tug on my wrist, we'd be back en route again, until we basically fell through his front door.

A mess of limbs and joined lips, his fingers were tugging at my blouse until it was on the floor. It was a dance we'd perfectly by this point; the kind of dance that had us giggling like mad-men, drunk on one another and unable to think about any other than the electric currents buzzing in the space between us.

Linking his fingers through mine, he pulled away to quietly admire me, adoration written all over his features. Blushed cheeks, swollen lips, awe-struck doe eyes, he was a vision. Slowly, his nose scrunched upwards, acknowledging how lame it felt to be so unapologetically happy. I reciprocated the face he was pulling, utterly in love.

"How about," he began to suggest, pulling me back into his chest, hugging me tightly. "You and me go and get a shower, get washed up for the night and then chuck on shitty comedy films till we both fall asleep?"

"Best idea you've ever had," I nodded against his chest, letting him take the lead, dragging us into his apartment and towards his bathroom.

Like a trail of breadcrumbs, our clothes were scattered en route, to the point where Jungkook was able to get straight into the shower. He'd tried to coax me in, but I could see from his tense shoulders and goose-bumped skin that it was freezing.

"Nah, it's fine babe," he tried to convince me.

"Kook, I can literally hear your teeth chattering."

"Nah, I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" I deadpanned, knowing he was full of shit.

His lips raised into a mischievous grin, as if he were about to make some lame joke, until a curt knock at the door cut him off.

"Shit, that can't be the food already," he looked at me with bewildered eyes.

"Must be," I shrugged, whipping a towel from the rack and wrapping it tightly around my body. "I'll put it in the oven to keep it warm, stay here."

"Be quick," he whined as I hurried towards the front door. "Miss you already."

"You're SO needy!" I shouted back, laughing at how soft he'd become since we'd established the fact that we could be vulnerable around one another. I didn't want to take it for granted, but we were still the same people as we always had been - which Jungkook proved with his counterstatement:

"Fuck yourself, Annie."

"Keep that attitude up and I might!" I called through his flat as I flicked the oven on and went to open his door, the sound of the shower running making the fact that I was dressed in a towel somewhat acceptable. Poor delivery guy wouldn't know what hit him.

Kicking my blouse out of view, I unlatched the door with a smile.

"Hey-oh," my face faltered.

"We've already paid, babe! On the app!" Jungkook's voice bellowed from the waterfall that was his shower, unaware of who I was actually faced with. I cringed at his use of a pet name, because now was definitely not the time.

"Do you hook up with all your interview subjects? Or just the one's who have girlfriends?"

"Tiff," I pursed my lips. Usually the one asking the questions, I didn't really enjoy being in the line of fire instead - particularly not when the person aiming was shooting red hot bazookas right at my face.

I had nothing to say to her, and didn't want to dignify her with a response, but her words had struck a nerve a little bit.

"Did you even wait for the sheets to get cold before you jumped into his bed?" She spoke with a sadistic smile, as if she were about to drive a stake through my chest. "I should report you to the journalism council, get you struck off for abusing your position of power with an interviewee."

"That's literally not a thing," I snorted, ignoring the fact that I had an aching feeling of guilt in my chest. Regardless of how cold Tiff's heart was, she must have still had one, and seeing me here must have been a slap to the face - especially like this. "Is that a family hobby? Harassing journalists?"

If Tiff had ever been possible of faltering, it would have been now. There was a calculation behind her eyes, algebraic equations lining up, figuring out how much I knew.

"Good luck getting your little story to print," she scoffed, confirming the suspicions Yoongi and I had cooked up earlier. "The lead reporter having a bias towards her main source sounds like pretty good grounds to get that gag order approved."

"So that's what this has all been about?" My blood boiled, and suddenly it felt like I needed that cold shower after all. "You've been fucking with him so that I'd stop writing the story?"

"Don't fuck with the hierarchy, Annie - or is it Rhianne? That's what it says on the court documents we're drawing up."

"If your family's business was really that powerful, they wouldn't need a gag order to keep it safe," I scathed back, absolutely furious. Surprisingly, I was thankful to be wearing a towel, because it stopped me from lunging for her ratty hair extensions. "The story will run, and you can bet your ass I'll tell the world how your family's business tried to keep these drugs from the public for their own personal greed. Even if the drugs don't put you out of business, your own cupidity will."

She underestimated me, and I was gonna make her regret it. That was for certain.

Shrugging, as if she couldn't care less, she hid her agitation well. Knowing she couldn't crack me professionally, she tried a different tactic.

"How does it feel to know that he's only with you because some pills have him convinced he's in love? When it's all fake?" She looked as if she pitied me, her perfectly glossed pout resting on her equally perfect face. She was too perfect. Inhuman, almost. I bet if you touched her, her skin would be cold like a reptile of some kind.

"Pretty great, actually," I shrugged - because it was. I suppose that's the thing about love; I loved him for everything that he was and everything that he made me feel. I'd still love him even if he didn't love me. Perhaps that was a tragic thing to admit to, but I felt pretty damn happy with my choices.

Tiff seemed to think that it was, in fact, pretty sad and wasted no time telling me so. Sneering actually suited her. Weird.

"You're so sad, it's actually pathetic. Did they do a lobotomy on you, too?"

"A lobotomy?" I snorted. "It's not the 1950's anymore, Tiff."

"Oh?" There was a sinister air to her tone, one that caught me off guard. "You didn't know? He's always been such a good liar."

I didn't hide my need to take a second to decipher her words. The onslaught of Jungkook's shower raged on, the sound numbing my skin slightly. Tiff knew something I didn't. And I didn't like that.

From the living room, a pitter-patter of damp feet echoed, before I heard Jungkook's voice whining out for me.

"What's taking so long, pretty- oh."

Please be wearing a towel.

"The fuck are you doing here?" His soft tone switched, now affronted and agitated.

"She was just leaving," I stared her out, not turning to face Jungkook as I spoke.

"Nice haircut, Googie," Tiff purred like a wildcat desperate for scraps. "Hope it didn't hurt too much."

Swinging the door shut, I hoped it caught on her nose as it slammed shut. The coldness of her entity had seeped into the room, and I felt myself growing tense. Inhaling, my shoulders raised slowly, before I let them down gently.

Facing him, I thanked my lucky stars that he did have a towel around that impossibly slim waist of his.

"If I drop my towel, will you let it go?" He chanced, noticing the look on contemplation my face and clearly not wanting to discuss what Tiff had divulged.

"No."

"Can I test the theory?"

"No."

"You're hot when you're mad," he grinned cheekily, biting down on his lip, trying to make me laugh.

"Jungkook-"

"I love it when you use my name," he walked towards me, altering his distraction techniques. Dare I say it, it could have worked if I wasn't so stubborn. He looked gorgeous, a brilliant white towel slung around his hips, tucked over to the side. Rivulets of water dripped down onto his torso from his damp hair, goosebumps forming on his skin.

"You can't avoid this conversation," I spoke sternly, folding my arms over my chest.

"I can try," he flirted, his hand gripping on my hip to pull me closer, lips plunging to my neck.

"You won't succeed," I hummed back to him, involuntarily uncrossing my arms so that my fingers could gently rake through his wet hair.

"Oh no?" His deep voice vibrated against my throat, his lips working their way up. Painting my skin with his lips, he swiped them in one fine stroke down my jaw, until they brushed against my own pair. "Not even if I do this?"

Nudging my pout a little further open, he found his home in my lips, pressing down into them.

"Hmm," I flirted, admittedly a little bit weak at the knees for him. "Try it again."

He does. And it's just as heavenly as it was the first time - but he was in purgatory right now, and I still had yet to decide which direction I was sending him in.

"Put some clothes on, you randy bastard," I whispered into his lips, before scooping my blouse up and heading to retrieve the rest of my clothes. "We've got shit to talk about."

a/n - cupidity is a word lol, I didn't mean to put stupidity and make a weird typo  (I literally only learnt it today though and English is my first language so?? i don't think its that common??)

also it's like 4am so there's probably 573939 typos anyway, I'm sorrryyy x

p.s. still thinking about blonde jungkook