Jeon doesn't know what you are to him.

Here you are again for the third time this week; laying on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while he's splayed out on top of you, settled against your stomach face by the crook of your neck with his teeth sunken into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

You'd complained about his biting problem, throwing in a few comments referring to a puppy and a chew toy, but they'd been disregarded nonetheless.

When you'd arrived, Jeon had acted all indifferent with the, "oh, it's you again,", like he hadn't mentally cheered and pumped a fist in the air, then dragged you for cuddles though he prefers the term "hanging out" on his bed. For weeks now, he'd been lurking around you, leaving bites on every exposed inch of your skin without warning—even doing so much as to approach you when you're with other people, bite either your hand, neck, or shoulder, then walk away, like nothing happened.

You've been best friends for years ever since he'd smashed your lunchbox into a kid's face in prep after he made fun about the unicorns on it, so he'd never act on these feelings he has wallowing about for you. For now, he'll stick to these pitiful bites.

He'd never tell you how he actually feels for you, though, it could ruin everything. He doesn't want to lose you.