Annie

Days on trial: 64

"They should really start a loyalty card system," Jungkook hummed as he blew gently against the lip of his mug, cooling the steaming hot coffee inside it. Shoulders hunched over, fingers nestled around the perfectly formed pottery, he was preserving heat. The bitter winter air had nipped at him on his way to meet me, and I could see it all over his flushed face. His nose rivalled Rudolph.

Garlands were hung decoratively on the wall behind him, vibrant green leaves with a snowy white mist speckled upon them. It seemed like everyone and their dog must have been ordering gingerbread lattes, the sweet scent of festive excitement simmering in the air.

"I'm pretty sure if you asked nicely, she'd give you a free coffee," I noted, having been acutely aware of all the side glances our waitress liked to give Jungkook. She'd been doing it for a few weeks now, and though I tried to pay it no notice, I'd have been a liar if I said it didn't irk me.

"You reckon?" he raised an eyebrow, goading me on. 

"Only one way to find out."

Reclining into his seat, Jungkook laughed warmly, his eyes closing as he shook his head. "I'm not gonna do that, Annie."

As the words vibrated out of his mouth, his eyes were on mine again, gaze punctuating his defiant stance. 

"Why not?"

"I already get free coffee from one girl," he shrugged, his dark burgundy sweatshirt rippling against his sturdy chest with every movement. "That's enough for me."

"Oh, so that's all I'm good for? Free coffee?"

"Free coffee and an excuse to leave work early on Wednesdays."

Flicking my notebook open to where we had last left off, I dismissed his banter, ignoring the growing urge to flirt back. Over two months into his trial now, there were still questions I had yet to ask him; ones that had come about as the trial had progressed and ones that I hadn't been comfortable enough to ask in the early days. We chatted over warm brews, the atmosphere between the pair of us just as cosy as a cinnamon macchiato - arguably just as spicy, too.

Jungkook had an adorable habit of talking with his hands. Like his eyes, they were overly expressive, and I couldn't help but study their animation. 

I let myself imagine what the pads of his fingers would feel like against the top of my own. Flushed from his coffee mug, I bet it would have felt like he was dissolving into me, the discipline of his strong hands so dainty and refined, not wanting to sear my skin from his touch. For a second, I let the thought linger for just a little too long. My lips crooked upwards, teeth relaxing on my bottom lip, until suddenly I realised that I wasn't paying attention to a single word he was saying.

Control yourself, woman.

"You think you'll go to the support group?" I pondered with him after he'd ordered us a second round of coffees. 

He paused, contemplating. I knew it was something he had been considering, but it seemed to scare him. Though I couldn't pinpoint why, part of me thought that maybe he was in denial about the colours that he was seeing. Meeting other people going through the same process would remind him that his experience was fabricated; the result of the pills he took each morning. He wasn't actually seeing colour. Not like the rest of us did.

"Maybe. The shop will be closed and I don't have any other plans on the 30th."

It wasn't a topic I wanted to push too much. Selfishly, part of me liked being the person he confided in about the trial - but realistically, I knew it would be beneficial for him to find other people going through a similar experience.

It seemed silly for me to be developing colours at the same time as him and to keep it a secret. The embarrassment of unrequited feelings is enough to not let me flirt with the idea of telling him. I'd have liked to keep him around for a little bit longer. 

If he knew I could see when his cheeks flushed, or the caramel speckles in his velvet brown eyes, then he'd surely distance himself from me.

"What about the 31st?" I asked airily, as if I hadn't been thinking about it all week.

"You mean New Year's Eve?" He toyed, knowing I was being pedantic.

"That's the one."

"Nothing as of yet," he set the porcelain mug down into its saucer with a diminutive clang. "Jimin's away with Clo, as you know, and Hobi will probably want to get shitfaced. Why'd you ask?" 

I was getting hot under the collar, but felt comfort in the fact that the tips of his ears were reddening too. 

"Chloe had some tickets for a party as back up in case Jimin didn't plan anything. She gave them to me once she found out about Jeju."

"Oh?"

"So..." I struggled to form a sentence.

"So?"

"So..." I grimaced, not wanting to look like I was scrounging for his attention. "Would you maybe want to spend New Years getting shitfaced with me?"

"Absolutely not," he smiled, lying through his teeth.

"Thank God," I sighed in faux relief. 

"No, I'd love to," he clarified, not wanting the joke to go too far. "Thanks for asking."

"It's only 'cause I feel bad you," I gritted my teeth facetiously. "Yanno, 'cause you're single on New Years after you got dumped and all that."

"I think you'll find I did the dumping, thank you very much," he corrected me with a grin, finding humour in his ill-fated romance. They'd been broken up for a while now, and occasionally I'd notice her name ping upon his phone, but for the most part he seemed to ignore her. It was impossible to be certain, though. "Anyway, you were already single!"

"Through choice, may I remind you!"

"We'll look at us, a pair of people both choosing to be single," he grinned. "What a smart decision."

"Relationships are for idiots."

"Idiots," he nodded with his signature bunny smile, teeth on full show, nose scrunched ever so slightly at the bridge. 

I wondered if he was thinking it too: that we were the idiots.

"So I was actually thinking," he moved our conversation along, not wishing to dwell on the raillery before it got too heavy. "I've finished all the commissions that I needed to get done before Christmas. There's a few bucket list things I wanted to tick off before the end of the year, and wondered if you'd be working Friday?"

Shaking my head, I sank back into my chair. "It's Christmas eve, so I'm off on Friday. Not back in the office until the second of January."

"Perfect," he grinned. "It's my turn to surprise you, alright? I'll pick you up from yours in the morning."

It was impossible to do anything but say yes. The idea of an adventure with Jungkook was far too tempting to even joke about declining. 

Our meeting is cut short by the demands of my press office, but in a way, I'm relieved. I had intended on spending Friday refining the first draft of Jungkook's article. We weren't at a point where Christmas gifts felt like a given, but I also kind of wanted to give him something, so this felt like an easy compromise.

He walked with me slowly, savouring our time together, still warm from our coffees despite the glacial breeze that pummeled our skin.

"Shit," he nodded towards my building, face beaming. 

Parked outside, basking in the glory of the mid-afternoon winters sun, was a motorcycle. Perfectly polished, it shone brightly, illuminated by the blend of metallic paint running up and down its body.

"Holy shit," I echoed. "I thought you said the client was from out of town?"

"He was," Jungkook shrugged, walking over to inspect his handiwork and make sure that no damage had occurred. It had only been out of the shop for a few days, but his art was his baby, so he naturally felt a little protective.

"It looks beautiful," I cooed, tilting my head, taking in the myriad of colours and curves. He'd really done a stellar job, and I felt myself swell with pride, in total awe of him. 

"I wish you could see the colours, Annie, they look so cool," he beamed, whilst a guilty twinge settled in my diaphragm. 

"He ain't lyin'," a deep voice purred from behind us, startling us both. We swung around, bodies knocking into each other awkwardly, to face the direction of the voice. Our hands tangled ever so slightly, and instead of retracting it back to himself, Jungkook let his palm linger. "She's a beauty."

Broad-shouldered and the owner of a devilish smirk, the man in front of us definitely didn't look like he was from around these parts. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear, ready to be lit at any given opportunity, nestled below a mess of platinum blonde hair. Ink trailed up and down his skin, like ivy vines latching themselves onto anything that would hold them secure, peeking out from the neckline of his navy blue crew cut sweater.

Behind him stood Jin, a coy smile on his face and a bar of chocolate in his hands. 

"Yoongi, good to see you," Jungkook greeted him, as I stared at Jin with slight bewilderment. Surely not?!

"Your boy's got magic fingers," Yoongi joked towards me, tongue in cheek. "Don't know how the kid managed to do what he did, but I would have paid him twice for it."

The memory of Jungkook drawing away from me when I doubled down on our relationship status - or lack thereof - in front of Tae haunted my memories. I didn't want to make the same mistake twice. Especially not now that I could feel his palm on the small of my back, even through my winter coat.

"Every girl's dream," I laughed. "Don't give him ideas though, or he'll start charging me."

"I'm a painter, not a prostitute," Jungkook snorted, before nodding towards Yoongi. "Anytime man, if it ever needs a touch-up, you know where to bring it."

"I think I'll be knocking around these parts for the foreseeable future," Yoongi admitted, as Jin's glossy cheeks swelled. "So I'll likely take you up on that offer, kid. Thanks."

There was an awkward fumbling of goodbyes, with Jin and I both knowing that we would be heading up the same flight of stairs within seconds of one another. I chose to head off first, purely to give Jin more time with Yoongi. 

"He's cool," Jungkook spoke of our white-haired acquaintance. "Calls me kid a lot, though. Not sure why."

"Best not to question it," I grinned. "See you Friday?"

"Gross, forgot that I have to spend more time with you."

"You literally asked to spend time with me."

"Nope."

"You demanded."

"Doesn't sound like me."

"You begged."

"Me? Think you've got the wrong person."

"'Oh, please, Annie, spend more time with me, pleeease'," I whined, very poorly impersonating him.

"Doesn't ring a bell," he beamed, slowly backing away down the road. Not once did he take his eyes off me, bottom lip sliding from the grip of his teeth.

"You're obsessed with me," I asserted, countering his claim with jest.

"Goodbye, Annie."

"I'm filing a restraining order."

"Not if I file one first."

"I dare you."

"Consider it done," he finally turned away, laughing heartily as he strolled up the pavement, arm in the air waving back to me. 

"Fuck," I sighed under my breath, following his figure with my gaze as he walked away. I hated to see him leave, but my god, did I love to watch him as he did so. Fine ass specimen of a man. Fine ass, full stop.

For the second time that day, my internal voice scolded me:

Control yourself, woman.

a/n: it's short n shit, but allow it lol. I'm just getting us from A to B...

also gonna add 'myriad' to the dappleddaisies bingo lmao, banning myself from using it

ALSO YOONGI. HELLO SWEET PRINCE. WELCOME TO A HAPPY ENDING.