8

The roads were silent on the way home with not a single car in sight. The lampposts flickered, house lights turned on and off, and the crescent moon was trying but failing to provide us light on our journey.

Nadiya lived on the other side of town but I was grateful, if Mila was staying at hers then there was a strong possibility that she lived even further away. Frankly, I don't think my back would have made it.

"Hurry up!" Nadiya yelled, whilst being violently out of breath from holding Yoongi upright. He had thrown up twice and then proceeded to try and light a joint straight after. Nadiya didn't let him smoke it, of course, she had tossed it in a drain about a mile back.

"Don't tell me what to fucking do!" I whisper-shouted back.

I was trying not to wake Mila, who was still passed out in my arms. She truly was a sleeping beauty with her long lashes resting against her delicate ivory skin. She had these cheeks that were so full that it was impossible for the moon not to kiss them. They were freckled and lightly painted a warm shade of pink that made them so immensely kissable.

My feelings were complex, foreign, indescribable. I'd never wanted to kiss a girl so badly. I'd made out with girls, but only as a means to an end. With Mila it was different. I had the urge to touch her lips like doing so would fix every wrong in the world.

It just seemed right; like second nature, muscle memory, an irrepressible instinct.

Somehow, in the space of twenty minutes, fucking her had flown out the window. It was looking down at her sleeping so peacefully that changed everything - I'm sure of it.

I was responsible for her getting home safely that night. It was my responsibility to ensure nobody took advantage of her and that included me as well. Seeing her so helpless and fragile made me focus; it cleared my head of filthy thoughts and led me to realise that nothing ever ends well with a bull in a china shop.

Things break, and I did not want to be the one that broke Mila.

"You're staring," Mila rasped, smacking her lips together. She'd hurled up what looked like a week's worth of liquid. I could only imagine how dry her mouth must have been. The dehydration headache was going to be a bitch the following morning.

Fuck, I wanted to be the one that found her water. I needed to water my rose before she wilted.

"You're a pretty sleeper, that's why." Shame was for the weak; that's why I had none.

Mila opened her mouth, but then closed it again after realising she didn't have a clever comeback to my compliment for once.

"You slept with Lucia," she eventually decided on, her face stricken with disapproval.

I loved how that was the first thing she thought about after waking up.

"Moment of weakness, that's all." I shrugged. "And you're no better, don't even get me started on you and that... cunt," I countered her attack with a small heave.

"Maybe I like cunt." She was proud of herself after that one. I still remember the cheeky little smile that crept its way onto her face after she saw my mouth drop open.

"Woah, woah, woah!" I stared down at her in disbelief. I wasn't expecting such a remark to come out of such a cute mouth. "I am not battling against girls as well."

Mila let out a breathy giggle and snuggled her head back against my chest. The contact made my body tense up, but somehow close wasn't close enough. I lifted her into me as she shivered, wishing my legs would work faster to get her home.

"You need to be careful when you drink," I finally found the courage to say. "You don't know a guy's intention until it's too late."

She frowned, her soft eyes transforming into something sharper and cold. "Says you... You can't have a normal conversation with me without bringing up sex. I should be terrified right now, it's only that I can hear Nadiya's heels that I'm even letting you carry me. You know, if you do anything even remotely inappropriate, she'll probably chop your ballsack into bacon-sized chunks?"

"So, she's used that threat often then?"

Mila nodded proudly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything unfavourable... Not yet at least." I held my smile back, but she saw it quiver at the corner of my mouth and lightly smacked my cheek.

She inevitably ended up laughing, like Mila always did.

I wonder if she knew how difficult it was for me when she made that hearty titter. I wanted to take that laugh and swathe it in bubble wrap, protect it, and unwrap it whenever I needed to feel its warm effects. Mila's laugh was my therapy, and I was in desperate need of it.

"You really are insufferable." I thought she was done with me for the time being, but then she opened her mouth again and placed hope into the centre of my palm. "I admire your persistence though," she whispered into my chest.

I took a breath after thirty seconds had passed. Mila had a habit of stealing it.

"So, tell me, Nikolaev," I pronounced her name in my best Russian accent. "Why did you consider sleeping with that jerk and not me? What does he have that I don't?"

Why the fuck did that sound so pathetic coming out of my mouth? It was a question - a valid one at that. But I sounded so incredibly insulted and salty and I had to go and blurt it out in the most awkward of ways.

"You saw my cock, right? That's not something girls usually pass up." I tried to play my obvious curiosity off, but Mila saw straight through me.

"Jealousy, jealousy!" She grinned up at me.

"I'm not jealous." I was; painfully so.

"Are too."

"Am not." I could have bickered with her all night.

"And here, I thought you were honest. It was one of the few things I liked about you."

Tingles travelled down my spine and fizzed away in my legs, making it extremely difficult to walk naturally. Mila liked something about me and I was buzzing.

"Just answer the question, Mila."

I didn't exactly mean to come across so cold, but I needed an answer. I wanted to know what her response would be. Her honest response.

I wanted her to tell me that she kissed Jimin to make me jealous; to show what being a gentleman gets you. It's funny how Mila didn't realise sooner that it was never a guy like him she wanted. She wanted passion, drama, something wild like in the movies.

The girl loved performing; it was no secret that she was looking for a show-stopping romance.

"Jimin wasn't a jerk... he was perfect. He was kind, funny, charming." Somehow her answer sounded sad like she didn't want to admit it. She cleared her throat after noticing me detach from my surroundings, bringing me back to stare into her bright eyes. "He's the type of person I expect to marry someday."

"Mm," I hummed through the ache in my chest. "The easy option."

Mila scanned my face with her large eyes reflecting the stars. She was reading between the lines, quite obviously, but snapped herself out of it and changed the subject.

"So, did you have a good time tonight?" she asked.

"It was alright... but you could say it didn't go the way I was expecting."

"And how were you expecting things to go?" Mila nibbled on her lip, eagerly awaiting my answer. She was probably hoping I'd admit that I had feelings - as if I even knew what liking someone felt like back then. Then again, if I'd have just let myself get lost in her gaze and breathe in that peppermint scent, I would have confessed without even understanding its implications.

But we were interrupted, and I'm not sure if it was a blessing in disguise.

"We're here!" Nadiya called, letting go of Yoongi and letting him head-butt the sidewalk.

"Already?" I sulked, my eyes still on Mila's. I wanted to walk around the block a few more times just so I could talk to her. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Mila Nikolaev. "Are you sure it's not two hours that way?" I pointed in the direction we had previously come from.

Nadiya screwed up her face and pushed open her front door.

"I know what my house looks like, Jeon. Put her down and go."

It wasn't fair. I didn't get to find out what Mila's favourite colour was. I hadn't heard her laugh for a minute or so either, and I was getting withdrawals. I didn't even manage to smooth talk her into disgust like usual. My time with her was always worn thin.

"Are you okay to walk?" I asked Mila, accidentally tightening my grip around her waist as she prepared to stand.

Please say no. Please say no.

If I wasn't mistaken, even she looked a tad disappointed that it was time to say goodbye.

"Yes," she whispered as I slowly propped her on her feet. "Bye, I guess?" she said, rubbing her bare arm.

"Hey?" I called as she walked off. I was actively ignoring the burning in my gut as she made her way inside. "I can't even give you a kiss goodnight?"

Mila's chin met the sky - she was definitely counting to ten in her head. Her gaze met mine again and this time she looked genuinely sorry for me - to this day I never understood why.

Maybe she knew what the future held for us.

"Surely you'd prefer it more if I was the one that instigated the kiss?"

She had a point.

"Both work for me..."

Her rosy lips pulled at the corners and I was turned to jelly once again. "Have patience, Jungkook."

Holy fuck this girl had me considering all the things I used to ignore. Relationship? Piece of cake. Romance? Call me Romeo. Loyalty? I'm a fucking dog.

I turned my attention to Yoongi, just to have a break from her influence, and felt the sudden urge to kick him. It was the frustration. It was the frustration of not having Mila Nikolaev all to myself.

"Oh, Jungkook?" she sang from the doorstep, all doe-eyed and innocent.

"Yes?" I replied far too eagerly, willing my pounding heart to settle as she smiled so authentically over at me.

"Thank you for helping me tonight. It was very... gentlemanly of you."

You don't want a gentleman, Mila, stop kidding yourself.

"Mm," I nodded, "no problem."

"See you Monday." she waved her hand like a fan and then disappeared off inside without even a glance over her shoulder.

Turns out I love when girls play hard to get.

Monday was too far away, there was no way I was going the weekend without seeing her.

***

I slept through most of Saturday, primarily because I was far drunker than I'd realised. Strangely enough, it wasn't just the alcohol that had me out cold—it was the company I'd kept that had me chasing dreams in my sleep.

Because she occupied every single one. Sleeping meant I could see her.

My father had our housekeeper wake me up Sunday morning with breakfast in bed, which was not a common occurrence in our house. He was being nice, uncharacteristically nice, and that only meant one thing.

I burst into the dining room to find him sitting in the furthest seat with his face buried in a newspaper. He was sipping at his coffee, purposely ignoring my presence.

"Don't even bother asking, I won't do it... Whatever it is."

"Good morning to you too, my dear son. Do take a seat instead of standing in the doorway half naked."

I inhaled a sharp breath and reluctantly found my seat a few chairs down. Nobody sat next to my father, not even my mother when she lived with us.

"Go on," I encouraged him to spill whilst discreetly eyeing up our housekeeper, Yvonne, standing with her back to us. She was on edge - our staff always were when my father and I were placed in a room together.

They had witnessed too much over the years not to be concerned

"You'll be accompanying me to church this morning."

"Fuck off."

He shot me a glare; one I wasn't afraid of but still seemed to have the flesh on my neck prickle.

"Yvonne has laid out your suit; you will wear it and you won't cause trouble. You'll be friendly, you'll smile and wave, and you will not embarrass me. Do you understand?"

I turned my head to Yvonne, now standing with her hands clasped together and jaw tight and watched her send me a slight nod. She was telling me to agree; to not start something my father would inevitably finish.

Spending the day painting just flew out the window.

I ended up doing as I was told and listened to Yvonne. The service went by unbelievably slow with Father Michael blabbering on about what a fantastic young man Mayor Jeon had raised.

Clearly, he chose to forget the multiple rounds of exorcisms my father forced him to perform when I was seven.

Ah, those were the days.

Lucia was there, front a centre, smiling up at the priest like some Mother Mary Virgin. She was picture perfect, sat between her parents, pink floral summer dress and ballet pumps fooling everyone but me... and God, I suppose.

"Thank you for coming, Jungkook," Father Michael took my hand once the service had concluded. "It's been a while, you look great. All grown up and," he paused after noticing my tattoos peeking out of my blazer, "healthy."

My dad patted me on the back, speaking between gritted teeth. "He's certainly something."

"Have you got a plan after graduation? Principal Burrows tells me you've got a real talent for art."

Suddenly, I could feel daggers in the side of my head. Guess who didn't want me to become an artist of any kind?

Before I could even entertain the idea, my dad butted in. "Well, Father, it all depends on what his grades are like at the end of the year. That's when we'll find out whether he's working under me in the mayor's office or enlisting."

That was my queue to leave. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but if one thing was for sure it was none of those options.

I left them by the doors, engrossed in a conversation about some upcoming project, and leaned against the handrail, watching everyone slowly make their way to their cars. The church was always packed, and I found myself wondering how many of those attendees actually believed in God.

If He did exist, I was always pretty sure I was headed straight to hell.

That was until I saw a family gathering a handful of children and struggling to get them down the stairs in an orderly fashion. There were three kids, not including the parents, or the blonde girl carrying one of the youngest on her hip.

That was my ticket to heaven right there.

Her side profile alone was exquisite, a true work of art. It was the kind of face I'd spent countless hours trying to recreate in my studio, only to realise that such beauty couldn't be replicated in any way, shape, or form.

There was no way to do a face like that justice.

In that moment, I truly began to believe that there must be a God if someone so glorious existed.

"Mila! Grab Andrei before he-"

A small boy with light, curly hair darted out of the church, evidently forgetting that stairs were involved in getting in. He came tumbling out, a huge smile on his cherubic face, and nearly brained himself on the pavement.

I reached out in time and caught his arm, lifting him back up to where his family stood covering their eyes.

"Oh my Christ, thank you!" The mum came running over with her other kid dangling from her neck. "He's got no regard for his safety."

Like-mother-like-daughter, Mila's mum was beautiful. They looked wildly similar, though Mila had her father's blonde hair and blue eyes. It must have been the Russian genes.

"You got some speed, little man," I laughed down at the boy sprinting circles around me.

Mila stayed back with her smile directed to the floor.

"You're the mayor's boy, aren't you?" Her dad approached, holding his hand out for me to shake.

"Yes, sir." How obvious would it be if I added a 'regretfully' on the end there? "JK, pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Ivan Nikolaev, this is my wife Sally."

Aka, the two people that made the greatest person the universe had ever seen. I could have dropped to my knees right there and then and thanked them for bringing her into this world.

"Father Michael spoke of you as if you were gold!" Sally said, wrestling with Andrei. "Oh, and you're handsome too! Isn't he handsome Ivan? Oh, you should meet our Mila!"

"Come say hi, sweetheart." She hooked her arm around Mila's waist and pulled her forward. "She can be a tad shy at first, but let me tell you, once you get her talking, she doesn't shut up—"

"Mum..." Mila groaned out of awkwardness.

Was she embarrassed in front of me? God, I hope so.

"This is JK, isn't he handsome?" she whispered the last part loud enough for me to still hear. I waited eagerly for Mila's reply, but she stayed quiet. "We're quite new to town, it would be nice for her to make a few more friends. The ones she tells me about seem..." She didn't have to finish her sentence, I already agreed. "Anyway, it would be great to have a nice boy like you looking out for her. You know there's this guy that won't leave her alone? What was his name again, baby?"

Yes, Mila, do tell me his name.

My eyes shot to Mila's and Mila's shot to the furthest point from mine.

"Oh, really? It's because she's so beautiful—gets it from you no doubt." I chuckled to her mum who clutched her chest and blushed.

Being a flirt was like second nature. I couldn't control it.

"Oh, you are sweet. You must come round for dinner one night, JK—"

"Mum, no!" Mila whisper-shouted, turning bright red. She whispered something else into her ear that I couldn't quite make out, but Mrs Nikolaev seemed to understand, and her face dropped into a saddened frown. "Ah that's right, well maybe you two could go for a study date. Mila puts everything into her performances, but sadly that means her other subjects are lacking."

Remember when I thought Mila was a straight-A student? I was completely off the mark. Mila was incredibly wise and open-minded, always eager for fun facts and new ideas. But when it came to school, she struggled significantly. It only added to her charm, making her imperfectly perfect.

"You can stop talking now, mum..." she smiled over at her, giving her the hint to leave.

"Oh, I do ramble on, don't I?" Sally laughed.

Mr Nikolaev took hold of his wife's shoulders and steered her away, shouting over his shoulder for me not to be a stranger. It felt nice winning their approval.

It was silent at first, with Mila staring awkwardly down at her yellow sandals and me naturally staring at her. Intimidation didn't work with her, but I sure did like to try my luck.

"Thank you for grabbing Andrei," she finally said, bouncing the baby on her hip. "And sorry about my mum, she doesn't get out much so when she does, she's very chatty."

Every word that came out of her mouth was an apology of some sort. She was so polite that it made me want to ruffle up her feathers—it made me want to ruffle up her feathers really bad.

"No problem, it was nice meeting them. Was gonna happen sooner or later." My tongue met my front teeth teasingly and Mila laughed. Another year was added to my life span once again. "I think they like me."

"They know the Father Michael approved Jungkook, not the slutty, cocky asshat I know." She tried to say it with gumption but ended up failing miserably. Mila didn't have a nasty bone in her body. Her tongue held no blade, it was soft, mouldable, inviting.

"I love it when you try to talk dirty to me."

Watching Mila pretend to hate me while struggling to suppress a smile was my greatest source of happiness. It was the thing that had serotonin bubbling through my veins, fueling a sense of joy that nothing else could match.

She reached forward and smoothed out my tie, as if it was bugging her, and scoffed. "I never thought I'd see you in a suit. Thought you only owned Harry Styles frat boy era knockoffs."

Ouch?

"The next time you'll see me in a suit will be our wedding day." I was chewing my gum way too eagerly now, knowing the smirk plastered to my face was sure to send her insane.

My dad came sauntering down the stairs a step at a time, still chattering away to Father Michael about renovating Riverside Trailer Park. It seemed to catch Mila's attention because her jaw tensed, and her eyes widened. I noticed, like I always did, and asked her if she was okay.

"Erm, yeah. I didn't know your father was the mayor." She scratched the back of her neck.

"That's because you haven't bothered to learn anything about me," I corrected. "Maybe we could share some fun facts over a date? I promise I'm even more attractive once you get me talking." I flashed her a cheeky wink and she scoffed out of disbelief again.

Was I pushing her too hard? Probably. Was I ever going to give up on her? Not a chance.

She glanced down at the baby, who was reaching out a chubby hand for me to hold, and sighed. Her eyes wandered around, deliberately avoiding my irritating grin, before she let out a resigned snort.

"Okay, fine, I give up." I had never been so happy in my entire life to hear such a half-arsed yes. "You have one chance to prove to me you aren't the guy everyone says you are."

"Oh, Mila," I sang, meeting her eyes once again with a slack smirk. "Like you don't already like me the way I am."

I left her on the step, stumbling over her words, and then proceeded to spend the remainder of the day working out where the hell people like me were supposed to take a girl like her on the first date.

***

A/N

Sorry this is so late! I've been so busy and tired and sick the last few weeks. I also don't want to put pressure on myself like I did with Advances and Satine. I want to write as a hobby when I feel like it. Lately, I haven't felt like it. I'm enjoying my summer and working as much as possible to save up for my final year at uni.

Then I can focus full time on actually publishing some books and working on improving my writing which is exciting. As for now, I'm a stressed lil muffin.

Next chapter we'll see a lil date between Mila and JK! Will they kiss? Will they do more? Probably not, but it's fun to imagine.

How fun was this?