Hi Erin!! Because my friend tells me this literally at least twice a week: “If I die, I’m haunting you first.” with Namjoon or Jungkook (you choose😉) Love you!!
One: Jeon Jungkook is a stuffed animal come to life, all big button eyes and bunny teeth. He’s velvet soft, the rabbit from those old books; he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried (not a spider, either, if his shrieking fits about them were any indication). He’s rounded edges and silvery laughter, bells jumbled together in the pit of his stomach. He is not the kind of person you’re afraid of.
Two: Jeon Jungkook hates surprises. He’s always far too eager to be involved, to be in the know. Whether good or bad, he needs to be looped in, begging and pleading and whining with that adorable pout of his. It pulls his cheeks wide, cuts dimples deep, and rounds his lips until you can’t resist him any more.
Three: Jeon Jungkook thinks he’s neat and cool and suave. He isn’t.
You know he isn’t because he actually screams when he steps into the apartment, beleaguered in a way a twenty-something year old shouldn’t be. (He’d blame it on the long hours he’s been working, the overtime he’s been forced to put in. You’d say it’s all the gaming he does when he gets home late, that keep him up until the early hours despite the fact he should know better.)
“Surprise!” It’s a chorus of voices, threaded with love and uttered with tenderness, but it might as well be the undying cries of a thousand spectres with how Jungkook reacts. He’s clutching his chest, very much the picture of someone who’s short circuited, shoulders heaving with the breaths he takes.
Honestly, it’s a funny sight. Tall as he is, broad as he is, he’s reduced to a wheezing mess as everyone laughs, the sounds melting together into a cacophany of affection.
You’re crouched at his side, hand threaded through the buttery blue strands that stick to his forehead and curl haphazardly over his ears. “You okay?”
“If I die, I’m haunting you first.” Maybe if he weren’t trying to catch his breath, made deaf by the thunderclap of his pulse in his ears, you’d be more intimidated. As it stands, you can’t help but snicker, pushing his hair back with that devilish smile of yours cemented in place.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
