Status: Goong one-shot (completed)
Disclaimer: I don't own Goong, and I never will.
She's doing it again.
You can't stand it. You almost hate it. She's smiling that wicked smirk of hers, taunting you, goading you, provoking you to the point that you feel that if she dances in front of your face one more time, you'll grab her and subdue her. Physically.
Because if she eats any more slices of peach in front of you, you will go insane from jealousy or the frustrating fact that you just can't kiss her, with her lips tainted with the juice of that forbidden pink fruit. Whichever comes first.
You restrain the urge to gnash your teeth loudly as she pops another slice into her mouth, chewing loudly just so she can prolong your agony.
You do hate it when she's in one of those moods. She's teasing you, for the sole reason that she can. You just know it. Because she can.
God forbid she'll bring out peanuts.
She's smiling at you now, the playful expression on her face working its magic on you. You can't stay mad at her long, you realise, as she sits by your side, examining the book you've been reading (or so she thinks. You haven't moved from page fifty-six) before wrinkling her nose in distaste at your choice in literature. You sigh. She was starting to read now, but anything by sixteenth century poets still caused her brain cells to start fusing together beyond the second page.
She bends towards you, and you stiffen as her scent wafts towards you. She smells deliciously of peach and suddenly, you've never wanted that fruit more.
It's when she fishes out a small packet of peanuts and dangles it in front of your face that you finally give in.
You swoop in to capture her lips with yours, revelling in the tangy sweetness of her mouth, the taste of peach and her clinging to your lips.
Red, itchy rashes are worth it.
After all, the forbidden fruit did taste so much sweeter.