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frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

business proposal (제안서) — kim seokjin (김석진)

✧.* 18+

a closer look reveals the hidden multitude of narcissists roaming freely across the earth. they moved through life as ordinary figures—doctors, lawyers—sharing the same vulnerability of human blood. yet, there lingered a belief in their superiority, an unspoken arrogance. among them, businessmen appeared to embody that conceit most profoundly.

kim enterprises had the value of 1.5 billion won. a leading technology firm specializing in cutting-edge ai solutions and smart home devices. founded on the principles of advancing human-technology synergy, the company designs state-of-the-art gadgets that seamlessly integrate with daily life. under the visionary leadership of kim seokjin, the president’s son, the company has gained a reputation for pushing boundaries and setting new industry standards. currently, it lies at the forefront of revolutionizing smart technology, with a diverse portfolio ranging from intelligent automation systems to next-generation personal assistants.

impressive, really. it'd have been much more impressive if he was as likeable as his company. he was a narcissist in the purest form, no matter how much he cared for the company and his employees. only because no care would amount to the kind he put into himself.

the company had been running smoothly under his care for nine years, as his father had fallen ill and was unable to sustain it on his own. he knew he was making the right decision when he deemed seokjin the next heir, the next in control. he was smart, charming, persuasive. he knew every corner and end of a business deal, how to tie the knots and when to cut off loose ends.

“kim, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. i must say, kim enterprises has been on our radar for quite some time.” seokjin shook his hand firmly, returning the smile. “the pleasure is mine, james. i've been following your company’s progress closely as well. it’s impressive how you’ve carved out a niche in ai development.”

james’s eyes lit up. “thank you. we’re particularly interested in your smart home integration systems. from what i understand, your latest model has seen a significant uptick in market share.” seokjin’s smile widened, “yes, our quantum series has been a game-changer. we’ve seen a 30% increase in market penetration over the past year. the integration of adaptive ai has really resonated with consumers, allowing for a more intuitive user experience.”

james nodded, clearly pleased. “exactly. that’s why we’re keen on a partnership. our research indicates that your technology complements our upcoming product line perfectly. what terms are you envisioning for this deal?” seokjin considered the question thoughtfully. “given the scope of the integration and the potential for cross-promotion, i’d suggest a revenue-sharing model. we propose a 60-40 split in favor of kim enterprises for the first two years. this would allow us to leverage your distribution network while providing you with a substantial stake in the revenue generated.”

james raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. “that’s a fair proposition. but considering the development and marketing costs, how about adjusting the split to 50-50 initially, with a performance-based adjustment thereafter?” seokjin weighed the offer, then nodded. “i see your point. let’s compromise at 55-45, with a performance review after the first year to reassess the terms. we can draft a detailed agreement to reflect this.”

james’s expression softened into one of admiration. “agreed. your understanding of both the technology and market dynamics is impressive, kim. it’s clear you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

seokjin’s eyes sparkled with resolve. “thank you, james. i believe in building partnerships that are beneficial for both sides. our goal is not just to expand our market presence but to also deliver exceptional value through innovative collaborations.” james raised his glass with a smile. “well said. i look forward to working with you. let’s toast to a successful partnership.”

he truly was a natural, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. however, even if he was reluctant to admit it, he couldn't have done it on his own.

you navigated the room with a calm, poised demeanor, your sharp eyes scanning for any potential issues or tasks that needed attention. you approached seokjin with a subtle nod, a tablet in hand. he acknowledged the gesture, his eyes flickering with appreciation. “i’ve just received the finalized draft of the agreement,” you said quietly, sliding the tablet over to him. “i made sure to include the revised revenue split and the performance review clause you discussed with james.”

he glanced at the document, his expression approving. “perfect timing. you’ve captured all the necessary details. thanks for handling this so efficiently.” james, intrigued, looked at you. “i must say, it’s clear that you play a crucial role in ensuring everything runs smoothly. your attention to detail must be invaluable.”

you smiled modestly. “thank you, james. it’s my job to make sure that the priorities are met and that every aspect of our deal is thoroughly managed. it’s a pleasure to contribute to the success of our partnerships.” as you stepped back, you made a quick call to coordinate a follow-up meeting with the legal team, ensuring that all paperwork would be processed without delay. your presence was a testament to the meticulous planning that underpinned seokjin's success.

although he was the brains behind the operation, you were the one that made sure the operation was in action. you coordinated all of his appointments and travel arrangements, handled all of his phone calls, drafted all of the reports and presentations, organized all of the meetings, supported all of the projects, and so much more. you were good at your job, and you loved it.

it was one of the many reasons why that same night, in the back of seokjin's limo, he had met your words with a look of horror displayed on his face. you remained stoic as you adjusted the hem of your dress, pushing your hair past your shoulder before meeting his gaze once more. “you want to quit?” you nodded in confirmation. the question itself held more shock than intended, but he couldn't help it. your announcement had put a dent in the night. you had been his left hand for exactly nine years and, out of the blue, you had announced that you were ready to leave the company.

the city lights blurred past the windows as you sat in the back of seokjin's sleek, black limousine. the leather seats were soft beneath you, but there was tension in the air that makes you sit a little straighter, hands folded tightly in your lap. seokjin was beside you, scrolling through his phone with a practiced ease, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind.

“it's personal,” you explained, trying to keep your tone even. “i have some matters in my life that need my full attention right now.” he stared at you, disbelief etched on his features. “after nine years? just like that?”

“i'm sorry,” you said, your heart aching with each word. “but it's something i have to do.” seokjin's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly. “if that's your decision, i won't stand in your way.” the rest of the ride passed in heavy silence, the atmosphere between you both laden with unspoken words and shared sorrow. you could only gaze at the fleeting cars through the window, oblivious to the hurt etched into what was supposed to be his stoic expression.

that night, he found himself tossing and turning in his grand, empty bed. sleep eluded him, chased away by a persistent nightmare. in it, he saw a woman with long, black hair, her back always turned to him. no matter how much he called out and cried, she never looked back, slipping further away with each step. he woke up in a cold sweat, the image of the woman haunting him. the clock beside his bed read that it was only four o'clock. frustrated and unsettled, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the sense of impending loss.

the following morning, he stood in front of the mirror in his expansive bedroom, the morning light filtering through the curtains. his shirt was buttoned, but his tie lies undone around his neck. he waited, as he always did, for you. when you arrived, your expression was composed, professional. "good morning, vice chairman."

he nodded, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “morning, secretary (y/n).” you stepped forward, deftly tying his tie with practiced hands, the sound of your name stinging more than necessary. the proximity, once a simple part of your routine, now felt charged with the weight of your impending departure.

he gazed at himself in the mirror, his ego surfacing as a way to mask his vulnerability. “do you see that? the beauty?” you glanced at the mirror, assuming he meant the sunlight casting a golden glow across the room. “yes, the sunrise is beautiful.” a faint smirk touched his lips. “no, not the sunrise. me. my aura.”

you suppressed a sigh, knowing that it was nothing but the the standard for him. “yes, very dazzling, vice chairman.” satisfied, he turned away from the mirror and straightened his suit jacket. “let's go. we have breakfast at my parents' house.”

the drive to the kim family estate was quiet, the earlier tension replaced by a heavy resignation. seokjin's family home was grand, an imposing structure surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens. inside, you were greeted by his mother, her warm smile a stark contrast to the austere demeanor of the chairman. “good morning, hyeon. (y/n), it's always a pleasure to see you.”

“good morning, mother,” seokjin replied, his tone polite yet distant. the chairman nodded at you both, his presence commanding respect. “let's eat.”

breakfast was a formal affair, the table laden with an array of traditional dishes. conversation was polite, centered around business and family matters. seokjin's parents were unaware of your decision to leave, and you caught seokjin's gaze more than once, a silent understanding passing between you. as the meal progressed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. that world, so intertwined with his, had been your life for nearly a decade. leaving it behind wouldn't be easy.

breakfast ended, and the chairman suggested that he and his son retire to the study room for a private discussion. you followed his mother to the sitting room, where she invited you to join her for tea. she was a gracious host, her demeanor warm and inviting. “how have you been, sweetheart? it feels like forever since we had a proper chat,” she said, pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups.

you smiled, taking the offered cup. “i've been well, mrs. kim. thank you.” her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “tell me, what do you think about my hyeon? he talks about you often.”

you paused, considering your words carefully. you knew she was an older lady, so you didn't question the way she misnamed him. her memory had probably grown shabby. “he's an exceptional leader, very dedicated to his work. it's been an honor to work with him.” she nodded, her smile widening. “yes, he's always been very driven. but tell me, is my son seeing anyone? he never mentions these things to me.”

you shook your head. “despite all the girls around him, he's not dating anyone.” mrs. kim's eyes widened in horror. “he's not— gay, is he?”

you stifled a laugh, shaking your head again. “no, mrs. kim, he's not. he's just very focused on his work.” she sighed in relief, placing a hand over her heart. “thank goodness. it would be wonderful for him to finally get a girlfriend. he's not getting any younger, you know.” you couldn't help but wonder at her words. the idea of him with someone else felt oddly unsettling.

in the study room, seokjin's father, chairman kim, sat behind an imposing oak desk, his expression stern. “i heard a rumor, seokjin. (y/n) is quitting?” his jaw tightened, but he met his father's gaze steadily. “it's true. but i won't let it happen.”

chairman kim raised an eyebrow. “and how do you plan to stop it?” seokjin's voice was firm. “i'll find a way to convince her to stay. she's indispensable to me.”

a moment of silence passed before chairman kim's lips twitched into a faint smile. “are you dating her?” seokjin blinked, momentarily taken aback. “no, father, i'm not.”

the chairman feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “oh, i feel faint. my son, the great seokjin, not dating his perfect secretary.” he rolled his eyes, a rare display of exasperation. “i've seen your medical records, father. you're perfectly healthy.”

chairman kim waved a dismissive hand. “you should do your father a favor and find a wife, give us grandchildren. it's time you settled down.” seokjin sighed, the weight of his father's words lingering. he had never been in a relationship, and neither had you. it was one of the reasons you knew you had to quit. your life revolved around your work, as did his. only, you weren't satisfied with that. it wasn't that he wasn't attracted to anybody, because he was, but nothing mattered more than his craft. he felt off about women touching him, in any case. it made him anxious, and brought up memories he fought to keep hidden.

you and seokjin departed for the office, the morning sun casting long shadows across the driveway as the car pulled away from the estate. the ride was initially silent, both of you lost in thought. he finally broke the silence, “what exactly did you mean by personal matters?” his tone was careful, almost hesitant.

you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i'm looking to settle down, vice chairman. i want to get married, have children.” he fell silent, the weight of your words settling over him. the rest of the ride to the office was steeped in an unusual quiet, your declaration hanging in the air like a specter.

upon arriving at the office, he moved through the halls in a daze. his usual commanding presence seemed diminished, his mind clearly elsewhere. he entered his office, finding his younger intern already there. “good morning, vice chairman,” jungkook greeted cheerfully, his youthful energy a contrast to seokjin's subdued demeanor.

he barely acknowledged him, slumping into his chair. jungkook, sensing something was off, leaned forward with a curious smile. “you look like you've seen a ghost. what's up?” seokjin rubbed his temples, sighing. “it's secretary (l/n). she wants to quit.”

jungkook raised an eyebrow. “oh? did you try offering her a promotion, bigger pay, fewer working hours?” he nodded in response. “i did. she dismissed it all. said she wants to settle down, get married, have children.”

jungkook's eyes twinkled with mischief. “and that shocked you?” seokjin glared at him, but his grin remained unshaken. “why does it bother you so much, vice chairman? do you like her more than just a secretary?” the question lingered in the air, met with silence. his mind raced, trying to comprehend why your decision affected him so deeply. he couldn't deny the pang of jealousy at the thought of you with someone else, starting a life that didn't include him.

jungkook leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “maybe it's time to ask yourself why her leaving matters so much to you.” he remained quiet, lost in thought. How could marriage and a family be more important than the bond you shared with him? the realization struck him hard—perhaps it wasn't just about losing an exceptional secretary. maybe, just maybe, it was about losing you.

a knock on the door disrupted the tense silence between the two men. you entered, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and three cookies on the side, exactly how seokjin liked it. the aroma of the tea briefly lightened the atmosphere. he looked up, his expression softening momentarily at the sight of you. “thank you, secretary (l/n).”

you placed the tray on the table, pouring a cup of tea for him and setting it in on his desk. “i've sent out emails looking for a future secretary. one of the primary candidates is on her way.” jungkook observed the way his face twisted with hurt at your words. despite the pain evident in his eyes, seokjin maintained his composure. “join us while we wait for her.”

you nodded, taking a seat beside the young intern. the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock. seokjin sipped his tea, the familiar taste doing little to ease his troubled mind.

a few minutes later, the door opened, and a young woman entered. she had a bright, cheerful demeanor, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “hello, i'm jung keulgi. it's an honor to be here.” seokjin straightened, adopting his usual authoritative posture. “miss jung, are you ready to devote yourself to a perfect company?” she beamed. “absolutely! i'm very excited for this opportunity.”

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the narcissistic question. “are you prepared to handle working for someone with an ego as big as the company?” keulgi sensed the underlying tension but maintained her cheerful facade. “i'm sure i'll manage.”

seokjin continued, his tone growing sharper. “will you stay devoted instead of quitting due to silly things like personal matters?” the tension in the room escalated. you snapped, unable to hold back any longer. “are you done, vice chairman?”

his eyes flashed with anger. “about as done as you are, secretary (l/n).” keulgi, clearly uncomfortable but trying to stay positive, interjected softly, “if you hire me, i'll do my best.”

seokjin didn't take his eyes off you as he replied, “you're hired.” as he turned to you, his voice was cold and demanding. “you have a month to turn her into your carbon copy. after that, do as you please.” the room fell silent once more as the weight of his words settled over you. keulgi glanced between you and him, her cheerful demeanor now tinged with apprehension.

he stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “that will be all for now. welcome to kim enterprises, miss jung.” she nodded, offering a hesitant smile. “thank you, vice chairman.”

as she left the room, you remained seated, the gravity of your situation sinking in. seokjin's harsh command echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of the rift that had formed between you. jungkook, sensing the need for a distraction, cleared his throat. “well, this is going to be interesting.”

seokjin shot him a glare. “you're dismissed, jungkook.” with a playful salute, he left the room, leaving you and him alone once more. the silence was heavy, filled with the unspoken emotions and unresolved tension. he finally broke the silence, his voice softer but still edged with hurt. “you can have the rest of the day off.”

you glanced up at him in disbelief, but you weren't willing to argue any further. all you could do was nod and bow before leaving the room. he was alone, once more. he couldn't do anything but watch as you left, gulping as if to hold himself back from calling out your name. you could train all the candidates in the world, yet it would never be the same.

you stood at your kitchen sink, washing the last of the dinner dishes as the sun set, casting a warm orange glow through the window. the evening was peaceful, the kind of tranquility you had been craving. as you dried your hands and prepared to head to bed, the sudden blare of a car horn startled you. peeking out the window, you saw seokjin standing next to his sleek black car, looking up at your house.

heart pounding with a mix of surprise and curiosity, you hurried outside. “vice chairman? is everything okay?” he shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. “no emergencies, secretary (l/n). i just needed to see you.” you frowned, puzzled. “at this hour? what's so urgent?”

his eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “are you serious about quitting to settle down?” you nodded, feeling a familiar pang of sadness. “i am. i'm ready to put all my attention on a relationship.”

his expression shifted, the gravity of your words sinking in. he took a deep breath, and then, to your astonishment, he did the unthinkable. he dropped to one knee and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

“marry me, secretary (l/n). i'm rich, handsome, and more than capable of giving you everything you want.” you stared at him, completely taken aback. his usual confidence seemed both reassuring and out of place in this moment. he continued, his voice earnest, almost pleading. “i'm perfect for you. accept my proposal.”

his words hung in the air as you tried to process what was happening. finally, you leaned in close, your face inches from his, and inhaled deeply. seokjin's heart stopped, anticipation flickering in his eyes. but instead of a kiss, you pulled back, your expression skeptical.

“are you drunk, vice chairman?” he blinked, clearly taken aback. “no, i'm sober. i'm serious.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i believe you. but vice chairman, i don't want a perfect life with a perfect man. i just want to be with an ordinary guy from an ordinary family.” his face fell, his confident facade crumbling. “why not me? i'm perfect!”

you smiled, despite the annoyance of his narcissistic words clawing at your nerves, and you chose the easy way out. assuring him that he was nothing but flawless was the only way to get him to stop talking about it. “that's exactly why. you deserve someone who sees you that way, but it's not me.” the rejection hung heavy between you as you turned and walked back into your house, leaving him kneeling in the fading light.

the following day, he recounted the entire incident to jungkook, who listened with wide eyes. when he finally finished, the intern burst into laughter, unable to contain himself despite the glares from his boss.

“vice chairman, you can't just propose out of the blue like that, this isn't the eighteenth century,” jungkook said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

his frown deepened, but he couldn't argue with jungkook's logic. “so, what should i have done, then?” he shrugged, still grinning. “maybe start by asking her on a date? get to know her outside of work. build a relationship first. you can't skip straight to marriage, no matter how perfect you think you are.”

the elder mulled over his words, realizing the truth in them. he had acted impulsively, driven by a fear of losing you, but dating? he was actively unfamiliar with the entire thing. in fact, he thought it was pointless. nothing but a waste of time, but if it meant stopping you from quitting, maybe it was wasting time in the best way possible.

you sat in your office, typing away at your computer, but your mind kept drifting back to the previous night. the image of your boss on one knee, his earnest proposal, and your subsequent rejection played on a loop in your head. the weight of your decision and its implications loomed large.

“hey, (y/n),” a familiar voice broke through your thoughts. you looked up to see kim namjoon, the head of finances, standing at your desk. his expression was a mix of concern and curiosity. “is it true? are you really leaving?” you offered him a kind smile and nodded. “yes, namjoon. it's true.”

the news seemed to ripple through the office. baekhyun and sooyoung, who were nearby, immediately voiced their protests. “you can't be serious!” baekhyun exclaimed, his usually cheerful demeanor clouded with disappointment. sooyoung nodded vigorously. “yeah, you've been here forever! what are we going to do without you?”

keulgi, who had been quietly observing, chimed in. “i've heard so much about your amazing work. it's going to be hard to fill your shoes.” you felt a pang of guilt but tried to reassure them with a smile on your face. “we'll all stay in touch. it's not like i'm disappearing.”

sooyoung then brightened, a mischievous glint in her eye. “how about we have a dinner after work? to welcome keulgi and to honor your nine years of hard work.” you hesitated, not wanting to make a big deal out of your departure. but keulgi's encouraging smile swayed you. “come on, it would be nice.” with a reluctant smile, you agreed.

the moment was cut short as the door to the office opened and seokjin walked in. the room fell silent, all eyes turning to him. he let the silence hang for a moment before speaking, his gaze locked onto yours. “am i invited to this dinner as well?” the tension was palpable. baekhyun hesitated before responding, glancing around at the others. “of course, vice chairman. you're welcome to join us.”

seokjin's smile was tight as he nodded. “very well. i'll see you all there.” he left the room as suddenly as he had entered, leaving your heart heavy with unspoken emotions. namjoon broke the silence, his tone light but his words carrying weight. “is it just me, or did it suddenly get cold in here?” the others murmured their agreement, exchanging glances.

“i don't know what's going on,” baekhyun said, shaking his head. “but he's been awfully on edge lately.” you remained silent, the weight of your decision and seokjin's reaction pressing heavily on your mind. the upcoming dinner promised to be an eventful one, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it would also be pivotal in the worst way possible.

you stood in front of your mirror, giving yourself a once-over. you had opted for a casual outfit, perfect for the laid-back atmosphere of the local barbeque spot where your colleagues were hosting your farewell dinner. just as you were adjusting your hair, a loud honk interrupted your thoughts. curiosity piqued, you peered out the window to see none other than seokjin, leaning against his car, looking as out of place in your neighborhood as a peacock in a flock of pigeons.

you opened the window and leaned out. “what are you doing here?” he glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips. “i'm not here to propose again, if that's what you're worried about. i'm here to pick you up.” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “why?”

“isn't it so ordinary of me to go with my coworkers?” he replied, clearly pleased with himself. you shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. “yes, well done, vice chairman. give me a minute.”

you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. as you stepped outside, you noticed his attire—an expensive suit that screamed high-end fashion. you stifled a laugh, knowing he would stand out like a sore thumb at the spot you had all agreed on. nonetheless, you entertained his gesture and got into the car. the drive was filled with light conversation, mostly about work and the upcoming transition. despite the casual nature of the evening, you could sense his effort to blend in, which you found oddly endearing. when you arrived at the restaurant, the familiar scent of grilled meat and beer wafted through the air, making seokjin's face contort in mild disgust. you chuckled at his reaction. “welcome to the real world, vice chairman.”

inside, your colleagues greeted you warmly, their eyes widening in surprise when they saw their boss. he maintained his composure, though you could see his discomfort. at the table, he attempted to take charge. “what's everyone drinking?” he asked, clearly expecting a sophisticated answer. “perhaps an old variation of whisky?”

a stunned silence fell over the group, everyone staring at him in disbelief. you nervously laughed. “they only serve beer and soju here, vice chairman.” for a moment, you expected him to bristle at the lack of his preferred drink. instead, he stifled a sigh and nodded. “beer it is, then.”

as the evening progressed, you found yourself reminiscing. it had been nine years since you first joined kim enterprises, and you vividly remembered celebrating your first day in this very spot. you were drinking beer when a younger seokjin had approached you, his demeanor confident and slightly arrogant. “do you know who i am?” he'd asked, and you'd honestly had no clue. little did you know back then just how egotistical he was.

now, years later, you watched him attempt to navigate this ordinary setting. as the night wore on, you noticed the subtle signs of him getting tipsy. his cheeks flushed, his laughter louder and more uninhibited. eventually, you decided it was time to call it a night. “i think i should take him home,” you said, standing up.

your colleagues protested, but you promised to make it up to them. they relented, and you guided a slightly unsteady seokjin to his car. the drive to his house was quiet, his head leaning back against the seat, eyes half-closed.

when you arrived, you helped him inside, supporting his weight as you guided him to his bedroom. you gently eased him onto the bed, intending to leave as soon as he was settled. but just as you were about to turn away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto the bed. you fell on top of him, your faces inches apart. his eyes, though slightly glazed, held a seriousness that made your heart race. “pretty ordinary of me to get drunk off beer, right?” he slurred, a lazy smile on his lips. your breath caught in your throat. “yes, very ordinary.”

“thank you, secretary (l/n),” he mumbled, his eyes closing. he fell asleep almost instantly, his grip on your wrist loosening. you stayed there for a moment, your heart pounding, before carefully tucking him in. you watched him for a few seconds longer, your emotions a whirlwind. finally, you tore yourself away, quietly leaving his house and heading home, your mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings you couldn't quite name.

the following morning, you arrived at the office early, keen to begin the handover process with keulgi. the usual hustle and bustle of the workplace greeted you, but today there was an undercurrent of anticipation and anxiety. it was the beginning of your final month at kim enterprises, and you wanted to ensure everything transitioned smoothly.

as you were explaining the intricacies of the office dynamics to keulgi, seokjin entered, looking visibly worse for wear. he massaged his temples, clearly nursing a headache from the previous night. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. you followed him into his office, where he promptly sank into his chair, wincing slightly.

“good morning, vice chairman,” you greeted, trying to keep your tone professional despite your concern. “morning,” he muttered, barely looking up.

despite your concern, you exited the office, re-joining keulgi in order to show her around. “so, these are the folders you'll need to keep track of—client files, project updates, and financial reports. everything is color-coded for easy access. emails are prioritized into high, medium, and low urgency. make sure to flag anything that needs immediate attention.”

she nodded, absorbing the information. “got it. and what about his schedule?” you handed her a tablet with his meticulously planned itinerary. “his schedule is very tight. make sure to coordinate with all department heads and external partners. he's very particular about his meetings being on time.”

as you continued the walkthrough, keulgi mentioned, “oh, by the way, i noticed one of the legs on his chair was falling apart, so i put it together with some cables.” your eyes widened in shock, “what kind of cables?”

“rubber cables,” she replied, confusion etched on her face at your reaction. your heart sank. without another word, you rushed into seokjin's office, your pulse racing. the sight that greeted you confirmed your worst fears. he was on the floor, shaking, his head in his hands, his entire demeanor shattered.

“vice chairman!” you cried out, rushing to his side. “i'm so sorry, she didn't know—” he didn't respond, his breathing erratic. you quickly reached for the chair and cut off the rubber cables. the moment they were gone, his shaking subsided, though his face remained pale and his expression haunted. keulgi, realizing the gravity of the situation, joined in the apologies, her voice frantic. ”i'm so sorry, vice chairman. i didn't know—“

seokjin's gaze was ice cold as he finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something you couldn't quite place. “is this how you're carrying out your duties, secretary (l/n)?” you stood there, stunned and silent. the warmth and camaraderie of the previous night seemed like a distant memory. his words cut through you like a knife, and for the first time, you had no response.

seokjin struggled to his feet, regaining his composure with great effort. “leave,” he commanded quietly, the tension in his voice unmistakable. you and keulgi hurried out of the office, the weight of the incident heavy on your shoulders. outside, you tried to reassure her, but the shock of your boss's reaction lingered.

inside his office, he sat down once again, burying his face in his hands. he mentally cursed himself for his harsh words. his eyes fell on the rubber cables now discarded in the trash can, and a shudder ran through him. memories he'd fought to bury resurfaced, and he struggled to push them back down. the trauma, long kept at bay, clawed its way to the surface. he knew he had overreacted, and he hated himself for it. he had to apologize to you, but the thought of facing you after what had just happened seemed insurmountable. how could he explain the depth of his fear, the reason for his reaction? for now, he could only sit there, the remnants of his vulnerability on display, hoping he hadn't irrevocably damaged the fragile relationship he had with you.

he sat behind his expansive mahogany desk, its polished surface reflecting the ambient light filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. the cityscape of seoul lay sprawled out behind him, but his attention was far from the view. instead, his eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the stack of documents in front of him. his mind was elsewhere, fixated on the conversation he'd had with his intern just days ago.

jungkook, seated opposite to him with his laptop open, was discussing the final preparations for the launch of their new art gallery. the young intern's enthusiasm was palpable, his voice animated as he detailed the latest developments, the artists who had confirmed their participation, and the final touches needed for the grand opening. but despite his energetic briefing, seokjin's mind kept wandering back to a single, pivotal point in their earlier exchange.

“you can't just propose out of the blue,” jungkook had laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “you need to take it slow. ask her out on a date first.”

seokjin's usually sharp mind was dulled by the weight of those words. proposing had seemed like a logical solution to him. a clear, decisive action to keep you from leaving. but now, in the wake of jungkook's advice, he realized how absurd it must have seemed. how uncharacteristically rash and desperate. the thought of asking you out on a date, a simple date, felt strangely daunting.

“vice chairman? are you listening?” jungkook's voice cut through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. he blinked, forcing his attention back to his intern. “yes, jungkook. i'm listening. the gallery—” he trailed off, struggling to find the thread of their conversation.

he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “the gallery launch is on track. but you don't seem very interested today. is something on your mind?” he sighed in response, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. he prided himself on his composed and unflappable demeanor, but today, he felt anything but. “it's nothing. just some personal matters, as some would say.” he couldn't bare to focus on the project at hand. no, in fact, he was ready to execute a project of his own.

the soft hum of conversation and clinking of cutlery filled the air as you and your friends settled into a cozy corner booth at a chic restaurant. the atmosphere was relaxed, with warm lighting and comfortable seating that made it perfect for a catch-up lunch. your girlfriends were animated and full of news, and you found yourself caught between genuine happiness for them and a pang of wistful longing.

one of your friends, jiho, was regaling the table with stories about her recent wedding. her eyes sparkled with joy as she described the ceremony, the heartfelt vows, and the beautiful reception. you smiled and applauded her enthusiasm, but inside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. the idea of finding such happiness seemed elusive, and your heart ached slightly at the thought.

“you're going to love being married,” jiho said, her voice full of contentment. "it’s just wonderful." you nodded, offering a supportive smile. “i'm so happy for you, jiho. it sounds like it was a perfect day.”

as she continued sharing details, your other friend, minji, leaned in, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “speaking of perfect days,” she began, “i have something to tell you. my husband’s friend saw your profile on social media and, well, he’s been asking about you.”

your heart skipped a beat. minji's husband had been a close friend of yours for years, but you had no idea who the friend in question was. the idea of someone from his circle showing interest was both flattering and daunting. “what’s he like?” you asked cautiously. minji grinned. “he’s a nice guy, charming and successful. i think you’d get along. how about we set up a blind date?”

you hesitated. the idea of a blind date was daunting, but the prospect of meeting someone new, especially someone vetted by friends, was appealing. you glanced at your friends' eager faces and took a deep breath. “okay, i’ll do it.” minji clapped her hands excitedly. “great! i'll set it up and let you know the details.”

just as the conversation shifted to wedding anecdotes and dating possibilities, a cheerful waitress approached your table with a friendly smile. “excuse me, ladies,” she said. “we’re conducting a survey to improve our service and, in exchange, we’d like to offer you a free appetizer. would you be interested?” your friends, always up for a little extra perk, agreed enthusiastically, and you followed suit. the waitress handed over a clipboard with a short survey and left to fetch the appetizer.

thu looked over the questions with mild curiosity. the first asked, “ideal date spot with your significant other?” the second, “ideal activities with significant other?” and the last, “ideal gift given by significant other?” you answered thoughtfully, trying to balance your idealistic dreams with the reality of your current situation. as you finished filling out the survey and handed it back to the waitress, you felt a slight nagging sense of familiarity with the tone of the questions. they seemed familiarly bosay and demanding, almost like they were trying to gauge your relationship ideals with a hint of urgency. but you brushed off the feeling, focusing instead on the excitement of the impending blind date and the lively conversation with your friends.

in the dimly lit rec room of seokjin's luxurious house, the soft clack of pool balls punctuated the otherwise quiet evening. jungkook lounged on the leather sofa, his gaze fixed on him, who was confidently taking shots at the pool table with practiced ease. the game seemed to serve as a backdrop for their conversation, but jungkook's attention was focused on the stack of papers spread out on the coffee table.

“you did what?” his voice was a mix of incredulity and disbelief as he stared at the surveys before him. the questions and answers were neatly recorded on the forms, and jungkook couldn't believe what he was seeing. seokjin, with a proud smirk, took another shot, his movements graceful and deliberate. “i paid the restaurant to hand out those surveys,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “i wanted to see what kind of answer i'd get. and now, i need you to find the one with her name on it.”

jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “you’re seriously crazy, this is way over the top.” ignoring the incredulous glares from his elder, he picked up the stack of surveys and began sifting through them. his hands moved quickly, flipping through each paper as he muttered under his breath. “this is insane. what are you trying to accomplish?”

seokjin, meanwhile, remained focused on his game, the smirk never leaving his face. his confidence was unwavering, but jungkook could sense a trace of anxious anticipation beneath the surface. after what felt like an eternity to him, he finally spotted the survey with your name. he held it up, slightly hesitant. “here it is. this is the one.”

his eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and triumph. he rushed over, snatching the paper from his hands with a deft movement. his gaze was fixed on the survey, and as he read through your answers, his smirk broadened into a genuine, if somewhat smug, smile.

“how childish,” he remarked aloud, his voice laced with a blend of amusement and satisfaction. he began reading your responses aloud with a playful tone. “ideal date spot: an amusement park. ideal activities: rides, very charming. ideal gift: a teddy bear.” jungkook watched, his initial skepticism replaced by bemused curiosity. “seriously? you’re actually taking this seriously?” he had never been more serious.

the call came just after you wrapped up your brief lunch with your friends, the sound of seokjin’s voice crackling through the speaker, urgent and commanding. “you need to meet me immediately,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. he gave you the coordinates, and you found yourself driving across town with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. arriving at the amusement park, you were surprised to see it eerily quiet and closed for the night. you sat on a bench near the entrance, trying to piece together what he could have possibly wanted in such an unconventional setting. the minutes ticked by slowly until seokjin finally appeared, stepping out of the darkness with his usual confident stride.

“what’s going on?” you asked, rising from the bench to meet him. “why did you bring me here?” his eyes twinkled with a secretive glint. “we’re going to be here for the night. i have a ‘free pass,’ so to speak.”

you blinked, puzzled. “a free pass? but the park is closed.” seokjin simply smiled, taking your hand and leading you towards the entrance. “just follow me.”

as you walked through the empty park, the moonlight casting long shadows across the deserted grounds, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. he guided you to one of the rollercoasters, and despite your protests, he insisted on riding it first. the rollercoaster roared to life, and as you climbed higher and higher, your heart raced with a blend of thrill and terror. when the ride finally came to a stop, you were visibly shaken, your hands still gripping the safety bar as if it were your lifeline.

he turned to you, his face stoic but his eyes searching. “did you have fun?” you hesitated, your voice trembling. “it was fun, i guess.”

he raised an eyebrow, sensing your unease. “why do you seem so hesitant?” you sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “it was too scary. i wasn’t expecting it to be so intense.” he looked at you with a mixture of concern and amusement. “then why did you go on it?”

“because you asked me to,” you admitted. a smile curved his lips, and he quickly shifted gears. “alright then, let’s go on rides you want to enjoy.” your face lit up with relief and excitement. you led him towards the merry-go-round, and as the ride spun in gentle circles, you felt a wave of childhood nostalgia. you waved enthusiastically, feeling the pure joy of the moment. he watched you, his gaze softening as he took in your happiness.

the merry-go-round went around seven times, and as you disembarked, you couldn’t stop smiling. seokjin then guided you into the park’s restaurant. to your surprise, the place was completely empty.

“what’s all of this?” you asked, glancing around in awe. he shrugged casually. “i rented everything out for the night. consider it a going-away present.”

your heart fluttered at his gesture. “thank you, vice chairman.” he smiled, slicing a steak and placing it in front of you. as you dug into the meal, he glanced at you with genuine interest. “why did you enjoy the merry-go-round so much?”

you hesitated, then opened up. “it was one of my favorite rides as a child. i used to watch it from afar, because my parents never had the money to let me actually ride it.” hiw expression softened, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “i'm sorry to hear that.”

the meal continued in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery. after you finished, hw told you there was one more surprise. “just be patient,” he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. curious, you followed him outside to a spot overlooking the sea. As you waited, the crackling sound of fireworks filled the air, bursting into vibrant colors against the night sky. your eyes widened with delight as you watched the display.

“isn’t it pretty?” you asked, turning to seokjin. his gaze was fixed on you, not the fireworks. “beautiful,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

the car ride back was filled with a charged silence. as you stared out the window, a memory of the survey and its bossy tone flashed in your mind. you turned to Seokjin, your eyes wide with realization. he looked at you with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the surprise. before you could ask more, the car pulled up to your home. he exited and opened your door, handing you a large, stuffed teddy bear from the trunk. you were overwhelmed with gratitude and, in a moment of pure joy, you hugged your boss tightly.

to your astonishment, he hugged you back, his embrace warm and reassuring. as you pulled away, both of you were so close. too close for comfort. you knew better, stopping yourself as you glanced at the time. “it’s getting late,” you said softly. he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “good night. i'll see you in the morning.”

the morning sun streamed through your bedroom window, casting a gentle glow over the room as you prepared for another day at work. you had almost forgotten about the stuffed teddy bear seokjin had gifted you the night before. as you reached for it, something shifted inside its pocket. curiosity piqued, you reached in and pulled out a small, elegant box.

opening it carefully, you found a delicate silver necklace inside. the intricate design and glint of the metal took your breath away. you were momentarily stunned, not expecting such a thoughtful gift. after a moment of hesitation, you decided to keep the necklace. you slipped it into your pocket, planning to wear it later.

at the office, you settled at your desk, the necklace still weighing on your mind. as you worked, you fished it out of your pocket and admired it, the silver catching the light. unbeknownst to you, he was watching from his office across the hall. his gaze softened as he observed you, a small, admiring smile on his lips. the sight of you, glowing with a mix of wonder and appreciation, made him think how gorgeous you were.

you finished adjusting the necklace around your neck, and as you headed to the bathroom, your phone rang. it was minji, her voice excited and insistent. “hey, i was just wondering if you’re still up for that blind date with my friend today? i know it’s short notice, but he’s really looking forward to it!”

it took a moment for the reminder to hit you. the blind date slipped your mind amidst the whirlwind of yesterday’s events. you agreed, albeit with some reluctance. “sure, i’ll meet him. just let me know the details.” as you entered the bathroom, keulgi emerged from a stall behind you, startling you. she had apparently overheard your conversation.

“are you going on a date?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise and curiosity. caught off guard, you nodded, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “yes, but please keep it quiet.” keulgi, ever enthusiastic, promised to keep it to herself. however, her enthusiasm got the better of her. as soon as you left the bathroom, she couldn't resist sharing the news with the rest of the office.

when you returned to your desk, the atmosphere in the office had noticeably shifted. colleagues whispered excitedly and shot you curious glances. the office buzzed with the news of your impending date. seokjin, who had been outside his office listening to the commotion, seethed with jealousy. his earlier soft smile had vanished, replaced by a scowl that betrayed his irritation. he paced back and forth, trying to control his frustration.

the excitement and chatter from your colleagues did nothing to ease his anger. his mind raced with thoughts of the date and the implications of your newfound interest. he couldn’t shake the feeling of possessiveness that gnawed at him, and the thought of someone else taking you out only fueled his frustration. the more he listened to the enthusiastic reactions of his staff, the more he felt his grip on his emotions slipping. he knew he needed to act, but he was caught between his pride and the undeniable feelings he had been trying to cast away.

the date began at a quaint, upscale café, where you met your blind date, taehyun. he greeted you with a polite smile and an amiable demeanor. as you made small talk, discussing interests and hobbies, taehyun seemed genuinely pleasant, though his compliments caught you off guard. “you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

you blushed slightly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and surprise. “thank you,” you replied, attempting to refocus the conversation. as you chatted, you noticed that his tie was hanging loose and uneven. it irked you more than you expected, and you reached over to fix it, hoping to tidy up his appearance. he watched with a smile as you deftly adjusted the tie, clearly appreciative of the attention to detail.

just as you were about to continue the conversation, a loud, urgent yell interrupted the moment. “secretary (l/n)!”

you and taehyun both turned to see seokjin striding toward your table, his expression stormy and his eyes locked onto you with barely concealed anger. your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. “vice chairman?” you asked, confusion mingling with concern. “what’s going on?”

he stopped in front of your table, his demeanor tense. “i need to see you urgently,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. you glanced at taehyun, apologetic. “i’m so sorry, it seems to be an emergency.”

you followed him outside, where he led you to his waiting car. the drive began in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. the car came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, and you turned to seokjin, your anxiety growing. “what’s the matter?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the unease you felt.

his gaze was cold, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a stern, almost menacing composure. “never do that again,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of finality.

you frowned, confusion clouding your expression. “what do you mean? what did i do?” his eyes locked onto yours with intensity. “never let me see you with another man like that again.”

you didn’t respond immediately, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with his emotions. finally, he added, “i don’t want to see you with anyone else. it’s not something i'm willing to accept.” the confession left you stunned. you stared at him, a mixture of surprise and realization dawning on you. the implications of his words were clear, and the protectiveness in his tone was undeniable. the car ride continued in silence, with the weight of his words lingering between you.

back at home, you went through your evening routine, attending to various tasks around the house. the day's events had left you both physically and emotionally drained. you found solace in a small ritual that had been a comforting presence throughout your life—your diary. sitting down at your desk, you pulled out the well-worn book, its pages filled with a mixture of memories, dreams, and sketches. as you flipped through the pages, you came across a series of drawings. they depicted a younger you and a boy, playing and laughing together. the accompanying writing read, “i miss you, brother.” the words tugged at your heart, and you felt a pang of sadness.

the drawings were a testament to a bond that had once been a central part of your life. as you closed the diary and set it aside, you felt the ache of missing something—or someone—important. the day’s events had stirred up memories you weren’t quite ready to confront.

later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, the familiar haze of dreams enveloped you. in your dream, you found yourself in a dimly lit basement, a place filled with shadows and echoes of the past. the little boy from your diary appeared, standing before you with a stern expression. you felt tears streaming down your cheeks, overwhelmed by a mixture of regret and longing. the boy began to scold you, his voice echoing with an authority that seemed to pierce through your sorrow. despite the scolding, you felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“thank you, kim soo—seo—” you started, trying to recall his name. but before you could finish, the boy cut you off with a tsk. “no, stupid. my name is kim seo—” the name was just on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite grasp it. the dream began to fade, and you woke up with a start, heart racing and breath uneven.

sitting up in bed, you felt the weight of the dream pressing on you. the name “kim seo” lingered in your mind, but it was elusive, slipping away before you could fully remember. the dream had left you with a deep sense of loss and confusion, and you were left grappling with the fragments of a memory that seemed to evade your grasp. as you lay back down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something significant you were missing, a connection that was just out of reach. the memory of the dream and the name echoed in your thoughts, haunting you as you tried to find solace in sleep once more.

seokjin arrived at work the following day with a heavy air of exhaustion surrounding him. he trudged through the office, his usual confident stride replaced by a sluggish, disoriented gait. as the morning wore on, it became increasingly clear that he was struggling to stay awake. his head bobbed with fatigue as he sat at his desk, his eyes slipping shut despite his efforts to remain alert.

concerned, you approached his desk, gently shaking his shoulder. “vice chairman, are you alright?” when there was no response, you shook him harder, your worry mounting. his body felt unnervingly heavy, and it became clear that he was deeply asleep, his breathing uneven. panic surged through you as you realized the severity of the situation. without hesitation, you grabbed your phone and dialed for emergency services.

the paramedics arrived swiftly, their professional demeanor a small comfort amidst the chaos. you watched anxiously as they wheeled him into the ambulance. your heart pounded in your chest, and despite knowing it was likely nothing serious, you refused to leave his side.

in the hospital, as the medics prepared him for further examination, they reassured you that his condition wasn’t critical. “he’s just exhausted,” one of the paramedics said. “it’s likely just severe fatigue. you can go in once we’re done.” when you were finally allowed in, he was still asleep, his face pale and drawn. you took a seat next to him, trying to steady your breathing as you buried your face in your hands. the sight of him, knocked out cold, was deeply unsettling. It reminded you of something from your past—something too familiar.

as you stared at him, your thoughts drifted back to the boy from the basement. the way he was unconscious on the floor when the lady had taken you—the same position, the same labored breathing, the same pale complexion. the memories came rushing back, painful and vivid. the name “kim seo” echoed in your mind, but it didn’t quite fit. then you remembered the boy’s full name, “kim seohyeon.” the realization came with a jolt. “kim seohyeon,” you whispered to yourself, the name feeling strangely natural as it rolled off your tongue.

your relief was fleeting, however, as a chilling thought struck you. seokjin’s mother had asked you not even a couple days ago, “what do you think about my hyeon?” it wasn’t just a fragment of a bad memory—it was a piece of a puzzle falling into place. hesitantly, you turned your gaze back to him, who remained motionless. your heart raced as you said, “kim seohyeon.” your voice was shaky, trembling with the weight of the revelation.

for a moment, the room was silent, and you felt a brief sense of relief as though your words had broken the tension. but then, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. his gaze was bleary, and he blinked at you in confusion. “what is it?” your heart sank as you saw his groggy, disoriented expression. the name you had just spoken had clearly registered with him, but his response was laced with irritation and confusion. you were left grappling with the enormity of the realization that seokjin—kim seohyeon—was more deeply connected to your past than you had ever imagined.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions surging within you. “kim seohyeon,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you looked at seokjin. his eyes, which had been closed in exhaustion, flew open at the sound of his name. the shock and recognition dawned on his face as he fully grasped the situation. “it was you,” you said, your voice laden with disbelief.

your heart pounded as you pieced together the fragmented memories that had haunted you for so long. “i remember now,” you began, your voice quivering. “there was a boy—you were in the basement with me.” his expression shifted from confusion to horror as the realization sank in. “the dreams i’ve been having,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “a black-haired woman, a basement—i’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”

the pieces began to fall into place for you. “the boy i kept searching for, the one i couldn’t remember clearly—it was you. we were together in that basement. i’ve been trying to find you all this time, but i didn’t know it was you.” the enormity of the realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you began to sob uncontrollably. you had spent your entire life searching for the boy from the basement, the boy whose memory had haunted you for years. to discover that he was right under your nose all along, that seokjin was the one you had been seeking—it was overwhelming.

the flood of emotions surged through you, and the connections you had been struggling to piece together suddenly fell into place. the cables, the fear, the strange sense of familiarity—all of it made sense now. the sobs wracked your body, and you felt a deep, raw anguish as you realized how close you had come to losing him without ever knowing.

his gaze softened as he watched your breakdown. his usual composure and egotism crumbled in the face of your distress. weakly, he reached out to you, his hand trembling slightly. “it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a tender concern that was rare for him. “i’m here.” you hesitated for a moment, but then, seeking solace, you moved into his embrace. his arms wrapped around you, providing a comfort that felt both foreign and deeply familiar. you continued to cry, each sob a release of the pent-up fear and sorrow that had built up over the years. he held you close, his own breath shaky as he struggled to process the gravity of the situation. he stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing and steadying. the warmth of his embrace provided a sense of security that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

as your sobs began to subside, he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin so that you looked up at him. his eyes were filled with a mix of empathy and resolve. “you found me,” he said softly, his voice trembling with the weight of the moment. his words, though simple, carried a profound meaning. the realization that you had finally found him, the person you had been searching for, was both a relief and a heartbreak. in that moment, the intensity of your emotions reached a peak, and he leaned in, closing the gap between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, but quickly grew more passionate. it was a kiss that spoke of the pain, the longing, and the deep connection that had been forged through shared battles. you responded, kissing him back with equal fervor, allowing the years of separation and anguish to dissolve in the intensity of the moment. when the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back slightly, breathless and awestruck. the weight of the past had been acknowledged, and the connection between you was solidified in a way that was both profound and healing.

he looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “we'll be okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a newfound determination. you nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief and hope.

the weeks following the revelation passed in a strange, uncomfortable silence. despite the deep bond you and seokjin now shared, an unspoken tension lingered in the office. the connection between you had shifted, but neither of you quite knew how to bridge the gap between your past traumas and your present reality.

he had revealed to you the reason behind his name change to seokjin. his parents had insisted on the new identity as a protective measure, believing that if seohyeon no longer existed, the woman who had once terrorized him would never be able to find him. this revelation, while reassuring, had also created a chasm between you two that was hard to navigate.

one afternoon, as the silence in the office grew increasingly heavy, he called you into his office. his demeanor was serious as he gestured for you to take a seat. you entered, your heart racing slightly, unsure of what to expect. “thank you for coming,” he began, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of something you couldn’t quite place. “i need you to do something for me.” you straightened in your chair, adopting a professional tone. “what is it?”

seokjin looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “i need you to be my girlfriend.” the words hung in the air between you, and you were momentarily stunned into silence. “what?” you managed to ask, your voice betraying your shock.

his gaze softened as he continued, his expression vulnerable. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us. after everything we’ve been through, i realized how much i care about you. i need you in my life, not just as my secretary, but as my girlfriend.”

his confession touched you deeply, and you felt a swell of emotion rise within you. “vice chairman” you began, struggling to find the right words. “i didn’t expect this.”

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “i know. it’s sudden, and i understand if you need time. but i wanted to be honest with you about how i feel.” the sincerity in his voice, combined with the gravity of his words, made your heart ache with a mix of relief and hope. you were touched by his honesty and the way he had finally allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

he then leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to something more earnest. “there’s one more thing,” he said, his voice lowering. “i need you to kiss me.”

your eyes widened at his request. the gravity of the moment, coupled with your feelings for him, made your pulse race. you nodded slowly, feeling a surge of emotions—affection, longing, and a deep connection. you stood up and walked over to him, your heart pounding in your chest. his gaze followed you, his expression a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. as you reached him, you leaned in, closing the distance between you.

the kiss was tender, filled with the emotions you both had been holding back. It was a sweet, unspoken promise of a new beginning. he responded gently, his hands resting on your back as he deepened the kiss. when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with the intensity of the moment. he looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability and affection that had been building between you.

his voice was soft and teasing as he traced his fingers gently along your back. “this means you’ll be my girlfriend, doesn’t it?” the playful tone in his voice, combined with the tender touch, made you smile despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and affection. “yes, it does.”

his eyes lit up with a genuine smile, his teasing demeanor giving way to something more heartfelt. “i’m glad to hear that. i’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time, but i didn’t know how.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you didn’t need to wait so long. i think we both knew how we felt about each other.”

his smile widened as he pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms encircling you with a sense of relief and contentment. “i guess it’s true,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “sometimes, the things you’re looking for are right in front of you.” they really were, as it seemed.

the next few days at work were marked by an underlying tension that neither of you could quite shake off. seokjin was noticeably less cold and demanding, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. the change was subtle but significant. he found himself taking more interest in your presence, often waving at you from across the office with a grin that was almost boyish. each time you waved back, his smile would widen, and a look of genuine joy would light up his face.

the change didn’t go unnoticed by your colleagues, who observed the shift in seokjin’s behavior with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. however, no one dared to comment, respecting the unspoken agreement that something had clearly shifted in the office dynamics.

as the days passed, his new feelings for you started to manifest in ways he hadn’t anticipated. while he relished the sweetness of your new relationship, he found himself increasingly aware of the more physical aspects of your presence. he couldn’t ignore how his pulse quickened when he noticed the way your tight skirts accentuated your figure, or how the sight of your bare legs and hair pulled back made him sweat in the middle of meetings.

he tried to maintain his composure, but the intensity of his feelings became difficult to manage. his attempts to focus on work were often disrupted by thoughts of you, and he struggled to keep his desires in check.

one afternoon, unable to ignore his escalating emotions any longer, he called you into his office. his voice, usually commanding, now carried a hint of nervousness. “can you come in here for a moment?” you nodded, entering his office with a sense of anticipation. seokjin closed the door behind you and gestured for you to lock it. his eyes were intense as he watched you comply. he then moved to pull down the blinds, casting the room into a more private, dimly lit atmosphere.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you approached him. he looked at you with a mixture of longing and hesitation, his gaze fixed on yours. “i need you to understand something,” he said softly. “it’s not just about what we’ve been through, or about being together. i—”

he paused, taking a deep breath as he reached out to pull you closer. the seriousness in his eyes gave way to a softer, more vulnerable expression. “i need you to know how much i care about you. and right now, i can’t help but feel…”

before he could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. the kiss was different from before—less tender, more urgent and needy. it was filled with the intensity of emotions that had been building up inside him. you responded to the kiss, your own feelings mirroring his. the kiss deepened, and the world outside the office seemed to fade away as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

it was a kiss that spoke of months of unspoken yearning, a kiss that shattered the professional façade you had both so carefully maintained. his hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer. his other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your mouth as you kissed him deeper. his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting, exploring. you gasped, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

that was it. the moment you had both been waiting for, the moment that would change everything. you could feel the tension in the room, a tight coil winding tighter with every passing second. the sound of a zipper echoed through the room as seokjin stood, lifting you onto his desk. your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his erection pressing against you, hot and insistent. your breath hitched as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he stepped back for a moment, looking into your eyes, searching for permission. you nodded, unable to form words, and he took that as his cue. his hands found the buttons of your blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. your bra was next, revealing your tits to his hungry gaze. He took one in his hand, squeezing gently, and your moan filled the room.

he leaned in, taking your nipple into his mouth. you arched your back, the sensation shooting straight to your core. he sucked, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, and your hips rolled against him. he groaned, his grip on your hip tightening. the anticipation was palpable as he reached for his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the need in them, the same need that was building within you. as he stepped closer, you felt his hardness pressing against your thigh, and you knew there was no turning back.

he whispered something in your ear, something filthy and thrilling, and you could feel your cheeks flush with arousal. his hands found the zipper of your skirt, sliding it down with a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet office. your skin prickled with excitement as the fabric fell away, revealing your lacy underwear. his hand slid under the fabric, his fingers finding your wetness. he groaned again, his breath hot against your neck. “you're so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you nodded, your eyes closing as he began to stroke you, his touch tentative at first, then growing bolder as your moans grew louder. your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. you knew you were his, and he was yours, in this every stolen moment of passion.

with a final tug, his hand found your bare skin, and you gasped as he touched you, his fingers exploring your folds with an urgency that mirrored your own. you could feel your core tightening around his touch, desperate for more. he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. “you like that, don't you?” he asked, his voice a low growl. you nodded, your eyes glazed over with desire. he leaned in, capturing your mouth again in a bruising kiss as his thumb began to circle your clit. the sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. you didn't know if you could hold on much longer.

suddenly, he stopped, his hand moving away from your panties. you whimpered in protest, but he just chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down your spine. “patience,” he murmured, “we're just getting started.”

with surprising strength, he flipped you over, so that you were now lying face down on his desk, your ass in the air. he stepped back, and you could feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of your exposed body. you felt a thrill of exhibitionism, knowing that he was seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

he leaned over you, his breath hot on your ear. "you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with lust. his hand came down in a firm smack on your ass, and you yelped in surprise. the sting was quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through your body, making you wetter than ever.

he smacked you again, harder this time, and you moaned. the sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand began to move in a steady rhythm, alternating between gentle caresses and firm slaps. you felt yourself getting wetter with every hit, your body begging for more. “do you like that, baby?” he asked, his voice strained with his own need. “yes,” you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky. “more.”

he complied, his hand coming down harder and faster, each smack echoing through the room. you could feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. and then, with one final, brutal slap, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. he leaned down, his breathing ragged, and kissed the back of your neck. “you're mine,” he murmured, his voice possessive. “mine to claim.”

and with that, he reached for his own pants, his hands shaking with desire. he freed himself, and you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness. without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you up in one swift, agonizingly sweet motion. you yelled, the pleasure overwhelming as he claimed your virginity, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

he didn't stop there, though. he began to move, his hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm that had you seeing stars. you could feel every inch of him, and it was more than you had ever imagined. each thrust was a declaration of ownership, each moan a promise of more to come. you pushed back against him, meeting him halfway, your body moving in perfect sync with his. you were lost in the sensation, the pain and pleasure melding into something indescribable. your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as you held on for dear life.

“fuck, you're tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “so tight.” your response was a whimper, your throat too tight to form words. all you could do was moan and arch your back, taking him deeper, letting him fill you completely. the room spun around you as he picked up the pace, his hands digging into your hips as he drove into you. you could feel his climax building, his breaths coming in harsh pants against your neck. and then, with a final, guttural groan, he came, his warmth flooding into you.

you collapsed onto the desk, your body spent, as he pulled out and leaned over you, his chest heaving. he kissed your shoulder, his breathing slowly returning to normal. the room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths.

for a moment, you both just stayed there, basking in the afterglow of what had just happened. but reality began to seep back in, and you felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness. you were his secretary, and you had just had unprotected sex on his desk. the implications of your actions were just beginning to hit you.

seokjin must have noticed the change in your demeanor because he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “don't worry, i've got you.” his words were soothing, but they didn't entirely ease the anxiety coiling in your stomach. he helped you sit up, and you both began to straighten your clothes, trying to erase the evidence of your passionate encounter. your heart was racing, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him, seeing him in a new light. “we can't do this again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if someone finds out?”

he turned to face you, cupping your cheek. “they won't,” he assured you. “this is our secret.” his eyes searched yours, and you could see the determination in them. “but if they do,” he trailed off, a smug smile playing on his lips. “well, then they'll just have to deal with it. you're my girlfriend, after all.”

you couldn't help but smile back, his confidence infectious. but deep down, you knew that this was just the beginning. the line between professional and personal had been irrevocably crossed, and there was no going back.

✧.*

a/n: literally no one asked for this idc this is so funny to me i based the name off one drama and the plot off another goodbye

underground (지하) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

money was an art form, a masterpiece woven from the fibers of power, greed, and survival. it was a delicate ballet, an intricate dance where every note mattered, each step carefully orchestrated. In this world, money was not merely a means of transaction; it was the lifeblood that fueled dreams, ambitions, and the very essence of existence. without it, the colors of life dulled, the vibrant hues of possibility faded into shades of gray. yet, the privilege of earning it through moral channels was a luxury not afforded to all. for some, the paths to financial stability were darkened by the shadows of necessity and desperation, forcing them into a world where the lines between right and wrong blurred into obscurity.

you stood on the edge of that world, teetering between the stark contrasts of legality and the underground. as the night cloaked the city in its velvet embrace, the secrets of this hidden realm whispered through the streets, carried by the cool breeze. the city was a living entity, pulsing with an energy born of a thousand untold stories, where money talked and everything else listened.

the underground world was a realm of its own, hidden beneath the city's polished surface, where neon lights cast eerie glows on crumbling walls and the air was thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline. it thrived in the forgotten spaces, the abandoned warehouses and derelict buildings, where society's outcasts gathered to find solace and spectacle in the brutal dance of fists and fury.

the boxing ring stood at the center of this world, a rough-hewn platform of blood-stained canvas surrounded by a chain-link fence. dim, flickering lights cast harsh shadows, illuminating the ring in a spectral glow. the ground was littered with the remnants of past battles—torn tape, discarded gloves, and dark stains that bore silent witness to the violence that had taken place. crowds formed a living, breathing entity around the ring, a mass of bodies pressed together in fervent anticipation. faces painted with a mix of excitement and dread peered through the gaps in the fence, eyes wide with the primal thrill of the fight. the spectators came from all walks of life—street hustlers, high-rolling gamblers, and those simply seeking an escape from the mundanity of their daily existence. the air buzzed with their collective energy, a low hum of voices rising to a fever pitch as the fighters entered the ring.

jungkook moved through that world with a confidence born of survival, his every step a testament to the power he wielded within these confines. the crowd parted for him, their eyes following his every move, a mix of reverence and fear in their gazes. he was both king and gladiator, revered for his skill and feared for his ruthlessness. in the underground arena, he was more than a fighter—he was a legend.

six years ago, the underground boxing scene was a world defined by its brutal intensity, where raw ambition clashed with the harsh realities of the ring. the air was thick with the acrid smell of sweat and adrenaline, the dim lighting casting elongated shadows over the makeshift ring. the clamor of distant fights, punctuated by the occasional grunt or shout, created a cacophony that seemed to pulse with its own rhythm.

you had ventured into the gritty realm with nothing but a fierce determination and a burning desire to carve out a place for yourself. unlike the other candidates who had come to vie for the position of jungkook’s manager, you were unpolished and inexperienced, a stark contrast to their sleek resumes and confident demeanor. the other hopefuls were draped in tailored suits, their composure reflecting years of honed skill and practiced charm. in contrast, you stood out with your unkempt hair and the nervous energy that radiated from you.

as you waited for your turn, the raucous environment seemed almost suffocating. you could hear the thud of fists against flesh and the murmur of a crowd that was both eagerly anticipating and derisively scrutinizing. namjoon, his mentor, stood at the edge of the ring, his imposing figure and critical gaze adding to the already palpable tension. his reputation was that of a seasoned fighter with a no-nonsense attitude, a man who had seen it all and demanded nothing less than excellence.

when it was finally your turn, you stepped forward, heart racing, to face namjoon. his eyes were cold, assessing, as he took in your disheveled appearance. “you’re here for the manager position?” his voice was a low rumble, laced with disbelief. “yes,” you replied, trying to steady your voice despite the tightening of your throat.

his lips curled into a scornful smile as he glanced at the other candidates, who were watching with barely concealed amusement. “you don’t look like much. do you even understand what it takes to manage someone like jungkook?” your face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, but you met his gaze squarely. “i may not have the experience, but i’m willing to learn and work harder than anyone else here.”

his laughter was harsh and unforgiving, echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. “hard work? this isn’t some corporate office where dedication alone gets you by. this is the underground. you need guts, strength, and the ability to handle whatever comes your way.” he turned to jungkook, who had been observing with a contemplative expression. “why are we even entertaining this?” his gaze was unwavering as he replied, “because i want to.”

namjoon’s surprise was evident, his skepticism momentarily giving way to astonishment. “you can’t be serious.” jungkook’s expression was resolute. “let’s see if she can handle the ring.”

with that, the room fell into an expectant silence. namjoon’s eyes softened slightly, a trace of reluctant respect mingling with his skepticism. “you don’t have to do this,” he said, his tone almost gentler. but you shook your head, your resolve firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. “yes, i do.”

the fight that followed was a harrowing testament to both your physical and emotional fortitude. as you climbed into the ring, the atmosphere seemed to grow thicker with tension. namjoon wasted no time, his movements swift and precise as he tested your limits. every punch he threw was a reminder of how far you still had to go, and each time you hit the mat, the sting of failure was accompanied by the disheartening laughter of the other candidates. yet, with every fall, you stood up stronger. the pain was excruciating, each bruise and scrape a reminder of the battle you were waging not just against him, but against your own self-doubt. your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat mingling with tears as you pressed on.

in a moment of clarity, the world seemed to slow down. the pain, the exhaustion, and the criticism faded into a singular focus. you dodged a particularly powerful punch of his and retaliated with a flurry of strikes that caught him off guard. the crowd’s murmurs shifted to gasps of surprise as you landed a series of blows that drove him back. his formidable figure staggered, and with a final, decisive move, you brought him to the mat.

the arena fell silent as namjoon lay on the ground, winded and defeated. he looked up at you with a mixture of shock and grudging respect, his usual veneer of confidence cracked. you stood over him, breathless and battered, but triumphant. the realization of what you had accomplished began to sink in, and the tears you had fought to hold back now flowed freely.

jungkook stepped into the ring, his eyes alight with an emotion you hadn’t seen before. he helped his mentor to his feet, his gaze never wavering from you. “congratulations,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “you’re hired.”

the other candidates were left stunned, their expressions a mix of disbelief and envy. you had achieved what they could not: you had proven yourself not with words, but with action and resolve. jungkook’s faith in you had been well-placed, and you had earned not just the position of manager but a bond of trust and respect that would shape the future of both your lives. from that day forward, you were more than just his manager. you became his ally, his confidante, and an integral part of his journey through the unforgiving world of underground boxing. the fight in that ring had forged a partnership that would define your path together, built on the foundation of mutual respect and unwavering determination.

the night was electric with anticipation, the arena packed to capacity. the air buzzed with a feverish energy as spectators pressed close, their eager faces illuminated by the harsh, flickering lights that barely pierced the dense haze of smoke and heat. the roars of the crowd reverberated through the space, creating a rhythmic thunder that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the night.

you stood ringside, eyes fixed intently on jungkook as he faced his opponent. the crowd’s fervor only heightened the tension of the match, and you could feel every beat of adrenaline as if it were your own. the opponent was a formidable figure, broad-shouldered and intimidating, his presence alone a challenge to his dominance.

the first round began with a blinding flurry of motion. jungkook moved with the fluid grace of a seasoned fighter, his every movement precise and calculated. his opponent, a hulking man with a vicious reputation, countered with brute force and aggression. the clash of fists and the thud of each impact resonated through the arena, making the ground seem to vibrate with each powerful blow.

as the round progressed, the sheer intensity of the fight left no room for hesitation or error. jungkook’s focus was evident, his eyes narrowed and unblinking as he assessed his opponent’s every move. yet, despite his skill, he wasn't impervious. the opponent managed to land a few solid hits, and his face bore the marks of the encounter: a split lip, a bruise forming along his jawline. the bell rang, signaling the end of the round, and the roar of the crowd surged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. you were quick to spring into action, your heart pounding as you rushed to jungkook’s corner. the moment he was within reach, you grabbed the damp towel and began to clean him up, your hands moving with practiced efficiency.

“jungkook,” you said, your voice firm but steady as you dabbed away the sweat and blood from his face. “listen to me. you’re doing great, but you need to focus. he’s strong, but he’s not faster than you. use your agility, stay light on your feet.” he looked at you, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his eyes reflecting a mix of fatigue and determination. “he’s hitting hard. i’m feeling every punch.”

“that’s exactly why you need to stay sharp,” you responded, applying a cool compress to his bruised face. “you can’t let him dictate the pace of the fight. you’re the one in control. remember why you’re here. remember what you’ve worked for.” he nodded, his gaze locking onto yours with a renewed intensity. “i won’t let you down.”

“good,” you said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “get in there and show him what you’re made of.”

the bell rang again, and he sprang back into the ring with a renewed sense of purpose. the second round began with a changed dynamic. his movements were more deliberate, his eyes sharper and his attacks more focused. He danced around his opponent with a fluidity that was almost mesmerizing, his every punch landing with precision. the earlier mistakes were gone, replaced by a controlled aggression that put him back in command of the fight. with each round, jungkook seemed to grow more confident, his strikes more powerful, his footwork more graceful. the crowd was enthralled, their cheers growing louder with each successful hit. you watched from the sidelines, your heart racing as you witnessed the transformation. the energy of the arena, the cheers, and the tension all seemed to meld into one intense wave of emotion.

by the time the final round approached, the opponent was visibly faltering, his stamina waning under the relentless assault. jungkook pressed his advantage, his focus unerring, his movements a blur of calculated strikes and evasive maneuvers. the final bell rang, and the crowd erupted into a thunderous roar as the referee raised jungkook’s hand in victory.

you rushed to his side, your heart swelling with pride as you wrapped him in a congratulatory embrace. “you did it,” you murmured, your voice filled with a mix of relief and exhilaration. “i knew you could.” jungkook, though exhausted, wore a triumphant smile. “thank you. for believing in me. for pushing me.”

you nodded, your own smile reflecting the satisfaction of the moment. “it was all you. you made it happen.” as the arena began to clear and the crowd’s excitement faded into a hum of post-fight chatter, you and jungkook stood together, the bond between you stronger than ever. the fight had been more than just a test of physical prowess; it had been a testament to the trust and dedication you both shared.

as the final echoes of the crowd’s cheers faded into the night, the once-vibrant arena began to empty. the air, now cooler and more relaxed, replaced the earlier frenzy with a calm that seemed to blanket the space. the spotlight that had illuminated the ring now dimmed, casting long shadows across the bleacher seats and leaving behind the scent of sweat and victory.

you and jungkook, along with namjoon, made your way to a corner of the arena that had been cleared for post-fight celebrations. the makeshift bar area, a row of tables cluttered with half-empty bottles and discarded cups, was a welcome sight after the intense atmosphere of the ring. namjoon had procured a selection of beers, and as he cracked open the first bottle, the familiar hiss of carbonation was a sound of relief. you took a beer from him, feeling the cool glass in your hand, a tangible reward for the night’s efforts. jungkook, still riding the high of victory, accepted his drink with a grin that spoke of his satisfaction and relief.

the three of you settled into a more relaxed atmosphere, the weight of the fight now replaced with the casual ease of celebration. you took a swig of the beer, savoring the crisp, refreshing taste as you glanced around the nearly deserted arena.

“not a bad way to spend the night,” jungkook remarked, leaning back against the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes still sharp with the thrill of the fight. “definitely not,” you agreed, your own mood buoyed by the shared sense of accomplishment. “you were incredible out there.”

namjoon, always the realist even in moments of triumph, watched the two of you with a thoughtful expression. he took a long pull from his own beer, his gaze wandering over the remnants of the crowd and the emptying seats. the celebration was marked by a certain levity, but there was an undercurrent of concern that seemed to cling to him. “there’s something i need to talk to you both about,” he said, breaking the easy camaraderie. his tone was serious, a stark contrast to the celebratory mood. “the cops have been sniffing around lately.”

jungkook’s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly masked his concern with a shrug. “we’ve been keeping things tight. nothing’s gonna come of it.” you nodded in agreement, the confidence in your voice masking the unease you felt. “we’ve been careful. we’re not giving them any reason to dig deeper.”

namjoon’s expression remained troubled as he took another sip from his bottle. “i hope you’re right. but i've got a bad feeling about this. they’re getting closer, and it’s not just a feeling. i've heard things.” jungkook leaned forward, his gaze steady. “we’ve handled things before. we’ll handle this too. we’ve always been a step ahead.”

you put a reassuring hand on jungkook’s shoulder. “we’ve got a solid plan. we just need to stay vigilant and keep our heads cool.” namjoon shook his head slowly, his unease palpable. “it’s not just about being vigilant. it’s about being prepared for anything. i’ve seen things go sideways before, and i don’t want us to be caught off guard.”

the atmosphere grew tense, the celebratory mood momentarily eclipsed by the reality of the situation. the weight of namjoon’s concern was a reminder of the risks that came with their world—a world that thrived in the shadows but was always at risk of being exposed. jungkook’s gaze softened as he looked at him. “we appreciate the heads-up. we’ll make sure we stay ahead of any trouble.”

he gave a reluctant nod, though his expression didn’t fully ease. “just keep your wits about you. we’re in a dangerous game, and the stakes are high.”

you raised your beer, trying to restore some of the lightness to the evening. “to a victory well-earned and to staying one step ahead of trouble.” jungkook clinked his bottle against yours, his smile returning. “cheers to that.” namjoon hesitated but eventually joined in, the clink of his bottle against yours and jungkook’s a small gesture of camaraderie amidst the underlying tension. “cheers,” he said, though his voice carried a trace of lingering concern.

the arena, now nearly empty, became a place of reflection and camaraderie, a brief respite before the inevitable challenges ahead. the victory was sweet, but the reminder of the ever-present dangers served as a sobering counterpoint. as the last of the crowd dispersed and the arena grew quieter, you, jungkook, and namjoon remained—a small island of celebration amidst a sea of uncertainty, fortified by trust, shared triumph, and the unspoken acknowledgment of the risks yet to come.

“do you have anything on them yet?” the voice on the other end of the line was crisp and authoritative, carrying an edge of impatience that contrasted sharply with the subdued tones of the post-fight celebration.

you glanced around the now nearly empty arena, the echoes of the earlier excitement still hanging in the air. jungkook and namjoon were engaged in animated conversation, their laughter a faint background noise as you stepped away from them to take the call. the light of the arena’s exit sign cast long shadows on the walls, a stark reminder of the night’s end and the reality that awaited outside.

“no solid leads yet,” you replied quietly, making sure your voice remained steady. “i’ve been keeping a close watch, but nothing concrete.”

the chief’s response was immediate, his tone sharp with urgency. “you need to understand how high the stakes are here. this isn’t just another bust. we’re talking about a network deeply embedded in the underground scene. your role is crucial, and we’re relying on you to gather the evidence we need.” you swallowed hard, the weight of the chief’s words settling over you like a heavy cloak. “i'm aware of the stakes. i've been working to gain their trust and get close, but it takes time. i need to be careful not to blow my cover.”

“time is a luxury we don’t have,” the chief said. “the longer this drags on, the harder it will be to make a solid case. keep your focus, and remember why you’re there. every detail counts.”

“i understand,” you said, trying to convey both confidence and frustration. “i'll continue to gather information. i'm doing everything i can to get closer to the core of their operations.” the chief’s voice softened slightly, though the seriousness remained. “we’re counting on you. just remember, the risks are high. you’re dealing with people who won’t hesitate to protect their interests, even if it means turning on you.”

“i know,” you replied, your mind already racing through the myriad of details and strategies you’d been employing. “i’ll stay alert and ensure i don’t slip up.”

as the call ended, you tucked your phone away and took a deep breath. the reality of your double life weighed heavily on you. on the surface, you were a devoted manager, a trusted confidant to jungkook, and an integral part of his team. but beneath that facade, you were an undercover agent, meticulously gathering information to dismantle the very network you were helping to protect. you returned to the table where jungkook and namjoon were now discussing their plans for the upcoming fights. their laughter was genuine, their camaraderie a testament to the bond they shared. it was moments like these that made your dual role particularly challenging. the lines between your real and assumed identities blurred, making each interaction a delicate dance of deception and truth.

jungkook noticed your thoughtful expression and raised an eyebrow. “everything okay? you seem a bit distracted.” you forced a smile, shaking off the tension. “just dealing with some work stuff. nothing to worry about.” the conversation shifted back to the more relaxed aspects of the evening, but your mind remained preoccupied. the stakes were indeed high, and the pressure to deliver results was immense. the chief’s words echoed in your thoughts, a constant reminder of the precarious balance you were maintaining.

the morning sun filtered through the window of jungkook’s garage, casting a warm glow over the array of tools and motorcycle parts scattered about. the garage was filled with the comforting scent of oil and metal, an aroma that spoke of hard work and dedication. he was hunched over his prized motorcycle, his brow furrowed in frustration as he examined the engine. the sleek, custom-built machine was a promise to his passion, a piece he’d invested considerable time and savings into.

you walked into the garage, your footsteps echoing softly on the concrete floor. the sight of jungkook wrestling with the motorcycle brought a smile to your face. his concentration was intense, but there was a touch of exasperation in his movements. “morning, kook,” you greeted, your tone light and friendly. “nice bike you’ve got there.”

he looked up from the engine, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “oh, hey. yeah, i bought it with some of the money i saved from the fights. it’s been a project of mine for a while. but something’s wrong with it. can’t figure out what’s the fucking problem.” you stepped closer, taking a casual but appreciative look at the motorcycle. the chrome gleamed under the garage lights, and the sleek lines of the bike spoke of both speed and elegance. “can i take a look?” you asked, a curious glint in your eyes.

he raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of skepticism and curiosity. “you sure? it’s not exactly a simple fix.”

“trust me,” you said with a smile. he hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “alright. be my guest. just don’t blame me if you can’t figure it out.”

you chuckled softly and knelt beside the motorcycle, your fingers gently probing the various components. as you worked, jungkook watched intently, his gaze more focused and thoughtful than it had ever been. the morning light highlighted the subtle changes in his expression, the admiration and curiosity mingling with his usual composure.

after a few moments of examining the engine, you spotted the issue—a loose connection in the fuel system. you reached for the toolbox, which he had set aside on a nearby workbench. “i see what’s wrong,” you said, pulling out the necessary tools. “it’s a loose connector in the fuel line. should be an easy fix.” his eyes followed your movements closely as you worked with practiced precision. there was a palpable sense of concentration and respect in his gaze as he observed you maneuvering around the engine.

“you’d never taken me for a mechanic, huh?” you said, trying to keep the mood light as you tightened the connector. he shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “no, i wouldn’t have. you’ve got a lot of skills i didn’t expect.”

you looked up from your work, meeting his gaze. “guys don’t usually like it when you know more about stuff like this than they do. tend to get a bit defensive.” jungkook’s smile widened slightly. “that’s not always true. sometimes it’s impressive.”

there was a moment of silence between you, charged with a new kind of tension. the air seemed to thrum with a quiet understanding, a recognition of each other’s capabilities and the unspoken connection that had been building. you cleared your throat, snapping back to reality. “alright, that should do it. let’s see if it works now.”

he started the engine, and the motorcycle roared to life with a satisfying growl. his face lit up with a triumphant grin. “you’ve definitely earned some points with this fix.” you stood up, brushing your hands off and offering him a smile. “glad i could help.”

as jungkook shut down the engine, you leaned against the workbench, your gaze drifting over the bike. “i always wanted one of these growing up,” you said wistfully. “but i never had the money for something like this.” his expression softened, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “well, you’ve got good taste. maybe one day you’ll have your own.” the moment lingered, filled with the quiet satisfaction of shared experiences and unspoken dreams. the garage, with its tools and mechanical parts, seemed to be a place where barriers fell away, allowing for honest exchanges and deeper connections.

the rhythmic rumble of another motorcycle echoed through the garage, growing louder until it arrived with a sharp, practiced turn. the door of the garage creaked open, and namjoon’s sleek black bike came into view. he dismounted with an air of casual confidence, his leather jacket catching the light as he approached. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over the scene. “i heard the bike running and thought something was up.”

jungkook straightened, wiping his hands on a rag with a satisfied grin. “just getting this piece of shit back in shape. our very own mechanic over here fixed it up for me.”

namjoon’s eyebrows arched skeptically as he turned his attention to you. “i find that hard to believe. you reckon you could help me figure out the difference between a carburetor and a fuel injector?” you met Namjoon’s challenge with a calm, confident demeanor. “a carburetor mixes air and fuel before sending it into the engine, while a fuel injector directly sprays fuel into the combustion chamber. the injector's more precise and used in modern engines for better efficiency.”

his eyes widened slightly, clearly taken aback. “well, i’ll be damned. you actually know your stuff.” you shrugged nonchalantly. “i guess i’ve picked up a thing or two over the years.”

he chuckled, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “i’m impressed. didn’t take you for someone who could handle mechanical work.” jungkook’s grin widened at the compliment directed your way. “i told you. she’s full of surprises.”

his expression shifted to a more serious one as he turned to jungkook. “alright, enough about engines. are you ready for tonight’s fight?” his posture straightened, his earlier amusement replaced by a steely focus. “absolutely. i'm set and ready.”

namjoon nodded approvingly. “good. you’ve been training hard, and it shows. How about we celebrate the win in advance? there’s a bar nearby. what do you say?” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “it’s a bit early for a drink, don’t you think?”

he waved a dismissive hand. “come on, it’s never too early to unwind. besides, it’s a good way to keep the pre-fight nerves at bay.” jungkook chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “i’m in. let’s go.”

namjoon mounted his bike again, starting it with a throaty roar. he gave a quick nod before revving off, heading toward the bar. jungkook turned to you, his gaze steady and commanding. “you coming with me?” for a moment, you locked eyes with him, the shared look filled with an unspoken connection. the intensity of the gaze lasted just long enough for you to feel a flutter of something you couldn’t quite name. he broke the gaze first, reaching into the compartment of his bike and pulling out a spare helmet. he held it out to you with a small, purposeful smile. “here. you’ll need this.”

you took the helmet, your fingers brushing against his. the contact was brief but charged with an electric undercurrent. without hesitation, you climbed onto the back of his motorcycle. as you settled into place, you pulled it on, the fit snug and secure. jungkook mounted the bike and you wrapped your arms around his waist, your body pressed closely against his. as the engine roared to life beneath you, you felt a sudden jolt of warmth spread through your chest, a tightness that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. his body tensed slightly, the proximity and the touch creating a momentary disquiet that he quickly tried to brush aside.

he shifted gears smoothly, guiding the bike out of the garage and onto the road. the city streets opened up before you, the wind rushing past as you rode together. the sensation of riding close to him, the hum of the engine, and the rhythm of the ride created a blend of exhilaration and intimacy that was both thrilling and new. despite his efforts to maintain his usual demeanor, jungkook found his thoughts drifting, his focus divided between the road and the feeling of your presence against him. the moment felt charged, filled with an undercurrent of emotions he hadn’t anticipated.

as you approached the bar, the familiar sight of neon lights and the sound of music drifting out into the street signaled the end of the ride. jungkook brought the motorcycle to a smooth stop, and you dismounted, removing your helmet and handing it back to him. “thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness. he gave a small, appreciative smile. “anytime.”

as you both headed into the bar, the lively atmosphere greeted you with its own brand of energy. the transition from the quiet intimacy of the ride to the bustling noise of the bar was stark but welcome. the bar was a popular spot, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft strains of background music. jungkook and you joined namjoon at a corner table, the conversation flowing easily as you settled into the evening’s relaxation. the ride had been a brief but significant interlude, a reminder of the connections and emotions that lurked just beneath the surface of your everyday interactions.

as you and jungkook settled in with namjoon, the initial tension from the ride melted away, replaced by the easy camaraderie of the evening. the clink of glasses and the low murmur of conversations filled the space, creating a lively backdrop for your conversation.

as you were halfway through your drink, namjoon’s gaze shifted, his expression growing serious. he scanned the room with a practiced eye, his focus settling on a small group of people seated at the bar. your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the presence of a few uniformed officers mingling among the patrons. you tensed, your mind racing with thoughts of the potential repercussions.

you quickly assessed the situation. the officers did not display any clear signs that they were part of your agency—no badges, no identifying marks. still, the sight of law enforcement so close was unnerving. you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. the last thing you wanted was to draw unwanted attention or raise suspicion. jungkook, sensing your shift in demeanor, noticed the cops as well. “fucking hate those pigs,” he muttered, his tone a mixture of disdain and frustration. “always sticking their asses in other people's shit.”

you looked at him curiously, trying to understand the root of his animosity. “don't like them much, do you?” namjoon’s body language shifted noticeably. his shoulders tensed, and he took a deep sip of his drink, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. there was a brief pause as jungkook hesitated, his gaze dropping to his glass.

“some shit that happened a while ago,” he began slowly. “dad was running an underground ring, just like i am now. he was unarmed, didn’t even have a chance to defend himself. one of the officers on the scene shot him. just like that. it was—” his voice trailed off, and he clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure. the room seemed to momentarily close in on you as the weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. you could see the pain etched in his features, the raw emotion barely concealed.

without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand gently on top of his, offering a gesture of solidarity. “i’m so sorry to hear that, kook. i can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.” he looked up, meeting your eyes. there was a flicker of gratitude and vulnerability in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your support. for a moment, the noise of the bar and the presence of the officers seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment of understanding and empathy.

“thanks,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “it means a lot.” the intensity of the moment tugged at your conscience, a reminder of the complex web you were entangled in. the lines between your role as a manager and your undercover assignment blurred further, making the situation all the more complicated. Offering comfort and condolences felt genuine, but the deeper reality of your undercover mission gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

namjoon’s gaze flickered between the two of you, his earlier tension giving way to a more subdued expression. he cleared his throat, trying to shift the atmosphere back to a lighter note. “well, let’s not let the past ruin our day. we’ve got a fight to look forward to, and jungkook, you’ve earned a drink.” the conversation gradually shifted back to more casual topics, though the earlier moment of connection lingered. as you continued to engage with them, your mind remained partially preoccupied with the weight of the conversation and the role you played in their lives.

as the evening wore on, namjoon excused himself, heading off to prepare the arena for the upcoming fight. you and jungkook decided to take a break from the bar’s buzzing atmosphere and stepped outside for a walk. the crisp night air was a welcome change, a quiet reprieve from the earlier chaos. you strolled alongside him, the city lights casting a gentle glow on the streets. the sound of distant traffic and the occasional hum of a passing car filled the space between your conversation. jungkook seemed more relaxed outside of the bar, and you noticed him opening up in a way he hadn’t earlier.

“my dad,” he began, his voice low and contemplative. “he wasn’t just about the fights. he was passionate about what he did, but he also cared about people. he was always helping those in need, even if it was in ways that weren’t exactly legal. i guess that’s why i followed in his footsteps, even if it’s not the safest path.”

you nodded, listening intently. “it sounds like he was a wonderful person. i'm sorry for what happened to him.” he glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “you know, i’ve never really talked about this with anyone. not even namjoon. it feels different with you.”

you offered him a small, understanding smile. “i get it. i didn’t grow up under the same circumstances, but i understand what it’s like to lose a parent. my mom passed away when i was younger. it was just me and my dad after that. things were tough, but we made it through. i guess we both have our own battles, huh?” his expression softened, and he gave you a gentle nod. “yeah, we do. but talking about it with you, it makes me feel like someone actually understands. it’s comforting.”

you met his gaze, feeling a deep connection between the two of you. “it’s my job to understand you and protect you. that’s what i’m here for. to be your support.”

as you continued walking, the breeze picked up slightly, causing your ponytail to come loose. jungkook noticed, his eyes catching on the stray strands of hair that fluttered around your face. he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your hair as he carefully pulled the band from his pocket and re-secured it.

the touch of his fingers against your hair sent a flutter of warmth through you. the closeness and the gentle care he displayed were unexpected, and your heart skipped a beat. you looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and appreciation in your gaze. he smiled, his expression tender and genuine. “you look pretty, you know that?”

the simplicity of the compliment, combined with the tenderness of his touch, made your heart race. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection, one that spoke volumes without needing many words. you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. as the two of you continued your walk, the city lights twinkling around you, the conversation and the moment left a lasting impression. the evening was filled with the promise of new beginnings and deeper connections, and for a brief moment, the complexities of your undercover mission seemed to fade into the background.

the night of the fight arrived, and the arena was packed to its capacity, a sea of excited faces and raucous cheers. the atmosphere was electric, charged with the anticipation of the evening’s main event. the lights dimmed, and the spotlight focused on the ring as the crowd’s energy swelled.

you were in the backstage area, working diligently to get jungkook ready. his focus was intense, but you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes. you handed him a bottle of water, his hand reaching out automatically. as you saw his hands tremble slightly, a thought struck you. you took the bottle from him and, with a reassuring smile, placed it between his lips, tilting it just enough to let the water flow. his eyes widened in surprise as you fed him the water directly. the unexpected intimacy of the gesture, combined with the softness of your touch, made his heart race. he stared at you, his mind momentarily drifting away from the fight. all he could think about was how pretty you looked, the way the arena lights highlighted your features, and the concern in your eyes.

when the bell rang, signaling the start of the first round, his thoughts were overwhelmed by the image of you. the distraction was so profound that he found himself unprepared for the fight. his opponent took advantage of his disorientation, and jungkook lost the first round. frustration and self-reproach etched into his face as he returned to his corner.

you were immediately at his side, damp cloth in hand, working to clean the sweat and blood from his face. namjoon stood close, his expression a mix of concern and determination. “fuck, jungkook,” he urged. “you need to pull it together.”

“you’ve got this,” you added, your voice steady and encouraging. “just remember why you’re here. you’ve trained for this.”

he nodded, trying to shake off the fog of distraction. the bell rang again for the second round. as he stepped back into the ring, he could barely keep his mind off you. your presence, your words, and the way you had cared for him earlier seemed to have taken hold of his focus. the result was another loss, the second round slipping through his fingers.

back in the corner, you were there once more, helping him with his injuries. you looked into his eyes, concern etched in your features. “you need to pull yourself together, jungkook. focus on the fight, not on anything else.” he took a deep breath, nodding. “i promise i'll do better.”

yet, even as he promised to refocus, the thought of you lingered in his mind, a powerful and distracting force. the realization dawned on him: you were watching him, supporting him, and it made him understand the weight of his need to win. it wasn’t just about the fight anymore; it was about proving himself to you, showing that he could rise above the distraction and succeed.

as the bell rang for the final round, jungkook entered the ring with a newfound resolve. the image of you, your concern, and your encouragement became his driving force. the focus was clear, the distraction gone. with a powerful surge of energy, he fought with a precision and determination that had eluded him earlier. the fight turned in his favor, and the crowd erupted in cheers as he landed the decisive blows that secured his victory.

back in the corner, you rushed to him as the final bell rang. you wiped his sweat-streaked face, offering him the water bottle once more. as you gently placed the bottle between his lips, your touch was soft, and the moment was filled with a tenderness that made his heart skip a beat. the victory, combined with the warmth of your support, felt complete. he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and something deeper—an emotion that went beyond the fight. the gesture of you taking care of him, the victory he had achieved, and the closeness of the moment all blended together, creating a sense of fulfillment and connection.

the night ended with jungkook’s triumph and the shared celebration of his win. the arena slowly emptied, the crowd’s energy fading into quiet satisfaction. as you and him stood together, the intensity of the night left you both with a profound sense of accomplishment and a new understanding of each other. in the afterglow of the victory, his gaze lingered on you, and he knew that the fight had been about more than just the arena. it had been about proving something to himself and to you.

the night was far from over, and after the intense fight and the victory celebration, the three of you decided to head to a friend's party. jimin, a mutual friend who had been unable to attend the fight due to hosting this very gathering, had invited you all to unwind and enjoy the night further. the house was a lively, dimly lit loft with music thumping and people chatting, making it clear that this was no ordinary party. the air was thick with an intoxicating mix of excitement and something less than legal.

as you arrived, he greeted you with an enthusiastic hug. “you all made it, heard about the fight. congrats, jungkook.” namjoon clapped him on the back and passed you both drinks. “thanks, jimin. it was a rough one, but he pulled through. now, we’re here to celebrate.”

you and jungkook stood together, enjoying the lively atmosphere when a group of girls approached. their attention was unmistakably on jungkook. “hey,” one of them said with a flirtatious smile. “you were amazing tonight. can i buy you a drink?” another chimed in, “yeah, you've definitely earned a drink or two.”

he glanced at you, his expression clearly irritated but polite. “thanks, but i’m actually here with someone. i’d prefer to stay with my friends.” the girls looked disappointed but maintained their smiles, making a half-hearted attempt to linger. “well, if you change your mind.—” jungkook shook his head, turning back to you. “sorry about that. some people just can't take a hint.”

you chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. “no need to apologize. we're here with you, and that’s what matters.”

the evening wore on, and you and jungkook accepted a joint from jimin, who was eagerly discussing the fight. “man, i really wish i could've seen it,” he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “how'd it go?”

jungkook and namjoon recounted the details of the fight, their voices animated and full of excitement. “you should have been there, fuck. it was intense,” jungkook said. “but we made it through.”

as the night continued, jungkook started to feel lightheaded from the combination of the party atmosphere, the drinks, and the joint. his movements became sluggish, and he glanced at you with a slight frown. “hey, i think i need a break,” he said, his voice tinged with concern. you nodded, guiding him gently toward the stairs. let’s get you somewhere quiet. you need to rest.” you were just as fucked as he was, but it seemed to had taken a greater toll on him.

you led him up to a bedroom, away from the noise of the party. the room was dimly lit, offering a peaceful respite. he laid down on the bed, his body sinking into the comfort of the mattress. you sat beside him, making sure he was okay. he looked up at you, his eyes searching for something. “you know, during the fight, i was so distracted. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” you furrowed your brow, concern etching into your features. “about me?”

he sighed, reaching out to touch your hand. “kept focusing on you. the way you took care of me, the way you looked tonight—it all made it hard to concentrate.” you nodded, understanding the depth of his emotions. “so, how did you manage to pull through despite that?”

“it was because of you,” he admitted softly. “you’re the reason i pushed through, the reason i wanted to win. i couldn’t let you down.” the vulnerability in his voice and the sincerity of his words touched you deeply. without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him gently. the kiss was tender, filled with the emotion and connection that had been building between you. jungkook responded with equal softness, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and relief.

his hands moved down to your waist, slipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. the alcohol and weed had lowered your inhibitions, and you found yourself craving the intimacy that had been hinted at for so long. you pulled away from the kiss and looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or regret. but all you saw was desire, raw and unfiltered. your heart raced as you reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the intricate tattoos that snaked down his arm.

his sleeve tattoo was your favorite, a dark, twisting design that mirrored the chaotic passion you felt in that moment. as you traced the ink with your fingertips, jungkook shivered and pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body with increasing urgency. the room was spinning slightly, but you didn’t care. all that mattered was the heat building between you, the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

his hands found their way to the button of your pants, and with trembling fingers, he undid them. you stepped out of them, allowing him to explore further. the anticipation was almost unbearable, but you knew that you both needed this. as he kissed you again, you could feel the weight of his erection pressing against you. you broke the kiss to whisper, “are you sure about this?” jungkook’s eyes searched yours, and with a nod, he whispered, “i've never been more sure.” and with that, any remaining doubts were erased, and you gave in to the moment.

you pushed him back onto the bed, and he watched as you removed your shirt, revealing your lacy bra. his eyes were dark with lust as he reached out and unclipped it, letting your tits spill into his waiting hands. you moaned at his touch, feeling his thumbs brush against your sensitive nipples. his mouth followed, kissing and sucking until you were arching into him, desperate for more. your hands fumbled with his pants, finally freeing his cock. it was hot and hard, and you couldn’t resist taking it in your hand, stroking him slowly as he groaned.

his hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your clothes were scattered on the floor, and you were both naked, lost in the haze of desire and intoxication. jungkook’s mouth traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that sent shivers down your spine. your hands tangled in his hair as he moved further south, his tongue teasing your navel before finally reaching between your legs. he licked you gently, and you moaned, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. the sensation was overwhelming, and you spread your legs wider, giving him better access.

his tongue danced around your clit, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with every stroke. your moans grew louder as he pushed a finger inside you, pumping it in and out in a steady rhythm. jungkook’s eyes were focused on yours, watching as you writhed under his touch. “you're dripping, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. your eyes rolled back as he added another finger, curling them inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. “fuck, jungkook,” you breathed, your grip tightening in his hair. “right there, don’t stop.” he smirked up at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, and continued his relentless assault on your senses. your orgasm was building, and you could feel it about to crash over you like a wave.

before it could, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for air. he stood up, his cock bobbing with need, and reached into his nightstand. he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, but paused, looking at you with a question in his eyes. “we should—” you began, but he cut you off with a shake of his head. “no, i wanna feel all of you. wanna risk it all tonight.” something in his tone made your heart pound even harder. you nodded, unable to form words, and watched as he squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. he positioned himself between your legs, and you felt his slick digits pushing into you again, preparing you for what was to come.

once he was satisfied, he leaned over you, his cock pressing against your cunt. you could feel the head of his dick, thick and demanding, and you spread your legs even wider, silently begging for him to fill you. he didn’t make you wait long. with one smooth thrust, he was inside you, and you cried out, the sensation of fullness almost too much. he took his time, pushing inch by inch, making sure you felt every part of him. your walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, and he groaned in response. “fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours.

once he was fully seated, he began to move, his hips rocking against yours in a rhythm that felt like it had been written into your very soul. his tattooed arm flexed as he held himself up, the muscles rippling in the dim light of the room. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, punctuated by your gasps and his grunts. you reached up to trace the tattoo on his bicep as he fucked you, the sensation of his ink against your skin adding another layer of intensity to the moment. “you like that?” he asked, his voice strained. “you like watching me come undone? just like that?”

you nodded, unable to speak, your entire world narrowed down to the feeling of him inside you. jungkook’s movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in pants. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned you, and you felt your own orgasm building in response. together, you tumbled over the edge, your bodies shaking with the force of your release. for a moment, you were lost in the pleasure, the world outside the bedroom forgotten.

the moment after was filled with a profound sense of connection, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of guilt that washed over you. the intensity of the kiss and the shared vulnerability made you question the boundaries and the nature of your feelings. you were lost in thought, contemplating the implications of what had just happened, when the moment was abruptly interrupted.

namjoon burst into the room, his face a mix of anger and urgency. “dammit!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening as he quickly averted his gaze. “what the hell are you two doing?” you and jungkook scrambled to get dressed, the sudden shift from intimacy to panic jarring. “what’s going on?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the adrenaline surging through you.

“the cops are on their way here,” namjoon said, his voice tight with worry. “we need to leave. now.” panic set in as you hurriedly pulled on your clothes. his warning about the approaching police made you realize the gravity of the situation. “what about the arena?” you asked, your mind racing.

“it’s at risk,” he said. “we have to get out of here. cops'll be all over this place.”

with no time to spare, the three of you fled the room and rushed out of the house. the sound of sirens grew louder, the flashing lights visible even from a distance. namjoon led the way as you all sprinted across the yard, making your way towards a field of tall grass just beyond the property. breathing heavily, you threw yourselves into the cover of the grass, lying still and trying to remain as quiet as possible. the police lights flashed intermittently through the blades of grass, casting eerie shadows as the sirens wailed in the distance. the field was a safe haven for the moment, offering concealment from the approaching officers.

jungkook’s eyes met yours, and despite the tension, a burst of adrenaline made you both laugh softly. the sheer absurdity of the situation—a fight, a party, and now a narrow escape from the law—was almost surreal. his laughter was infectious, and it lightened the mood despite the circumstances. in a moment of unexpected tenderness, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. the touch was soothing amidst the chaos, a small gesture that spoke volumes about his feelings. “we’ll get through this,” he whispered, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of the turmoil. you nodded, returning his smile with one of your own. “yeah, we will. just gotta stay calm.”

the sirens continued to blare, the flashing lights casting sporadic bursts of color across the field. you laid there, the grass rustling around you, feeling the weight of the night’s events and the relief of being together in that moment. the danger wasn’t over yet, but having jungkook by your side and sharing a laugh amidst the chaos made the situation feel more manageable. as the police lights began to fade into the distance and the sound of the sirens grew quieter, you knew the immediate danger had passed. the three of you would need to find a safer place and regroup, but for now, you took solace in the small victories and the connection you shared.

the next morning, the office was unusually quiet. you were at your desk, sifting through the paperwork that had piled up while you were away. the rhythm of typing and the occasional murmur of your colleagues provided a familiar, mundane backdrop that starkly contrasted the chaos of the previous night.

as you focused on your tasks, the chief, a grizzled man with an air of authority and a no-nonsense attitude, sauntered into the office. he glanced around and then fixed his gaze on you with a knowing look. “so,” he said, his tone casual but laced with an edge. “you have fun last night?”

you looked up from your desk, forcing a light laugh in an attempt to downplay the situation. “oh, so you know about that?” the chief’s expression didn’t change. “our men were at the scene. ‘course i fucking know.”

a pang of anxiety shot through you. the implications of his words were clear—your covert activities hadn’t gone unnoticed. you straightened in your chair, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. “it’s all part of the plan,” you said, hoping to sound more confident than you felt. “i need their trust more than anything.” he raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his gaze. “they’re all scum. don’t let that gladiator get to you. you’re not dick-whipped, are you? letting him get under your skin?”

the directness of his question made you stiffen. you bristled at the insinuation, but a flutter of warmth at the back of your mind told a different story. you met his eyes, trying to mask the conflicting emotions stirring inside you. “no, i’m not,” you said, your voice firm despite the slight quiver. “i’m focused on the job. i'll deal with it.”

the chief’s gaze softened, a flicker of something resembling approval—or at least reluctant acceptance—in his eyes. “good. because if you let your personal feelings mess with the mission, it’s going to end badly. i need you sharp and clear-headed.” you nodded, your mind racing to balance the professional demands with your personal feelings. “i understand. i’ll make sure it doesn’t affect my work.”

he gave a curt nod, acknowledging your assurance. “alright then. let’s keep things on track. and remember, this is bigger than any one person. focus on the endgame.” as he walked away, you were left with a heavy weight of responsibility and a swirl of conflicting emotions. the night had brought clarity to your feelings for jungkook, but it also complicated your position. the fluttering in your heart, the way your thoughts drifted to him, and the guilt from the sex made it challenging to separate your personal feelings from your professional obligations.

you took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the tasks ahead. the office was a world apart from the adrenaline-fueled night you had experienced, but the pressures of your double life pressed down heavily. as you dove back into your work, you resolved to keep your emotions in check and ensure that your mission remained the priority. whatever feelings you had, you had to manage them carefully, balancing the complexities of your role with the intensity of the situation you were entrenched in.

the afternoon sun bathed the arena in a warm, golden light as you arrived, your mind still buzzing from the morning's tense conversation with your chief. you were focused, determined to stay on top of your game and support jungkook through his next fight. as you approached the entrance, you spotted him leaning against his motorcycle, which was not the one you were familiar with. it was sleek, black with pink undertones, and gleamed in the sunlight—a stark contrast to his usual bike. your heart skipped a beat as you walked closer.

“hey,” you called out, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot of curiosity forming in your stomach. jungkook’s face broke into a warm smile. “hey. i've got something for you.”

he gestured towards the new motorcycle, and your eyes widened. “don't tell me it's the bike.” he nodded, a proud grin on his face. “yeah. i wanted to get you something special. you’ve done so much for me, and i thought it was time you had something of your own.”

tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you took in the generous gesture. “jungkook, i can’t accept this. it’s too much.” he shook his head, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “no, you deserve it. you’ve been there for me through everything. i want you to have it.”

before you could protest further, he pulled you into a heartfelt hug. the warmth of his embrace and the kindness of his gesture overwhelmed you. as he kissed your cheek, a rush of guilt mingled with your happiness. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were betraying your mission, even though his gesture was deeply meaningful.

inside the arena, you moved swiftly to get him ready for his fight. you checked his gear, offered him water, and gave him encouraging words. “stay sharp out there,” you advised. “remember everything we’ve worked on. you’ve got this.” as the first bell rang, signaling the start of the fight, you watched intently from the sidelines, your eyes locked on him. the crowd’s cheers and roars filled the space with an electrifying energy.

a man approached you, and you turned to face him, trying to maintain a polite demeanor. “hey there,” he said with a flirtatious grin. “i’ve seen you around. how about we get to know each other better?” you tried to brush off the unwanted attention. “i’m actually in a relationship. i'm here to support jungkook.”

the man’s persistent advances began to grate on your nerves. “come on, don’t be like that. a little fun never hurt anyone.” jungkook’s attention started to waver as he caught sight of the interaction. his focus shifted from his opponent to the scene unfolding near you. he tried to refocus, shaking his head to clear the distraction, but the sight of the man sliding his arms around your waist pushed him over the edge.

a surge of red-hot anger flared within him. with a final, powerful hit, he sent his opponent crashing to the floor, unconscious. the crowd’s cheers turned to gasps and cries of shock as he leaped over the ropes, his eyes locked on the man still encroaching on you. before you could react, his fists were flying, and the man was being pummeled. you rushed forward, trying to intervene, but he was beyond listening. his rage was palpable, his movements swift and unrestrained. you could see the fury in his eyes, the protective instinct that had driven him to this violent response.

“jungkook, cut that shit out,” you begged, but he didn’t seem to hear you over the roar of the crowd. his punches landed with fierce precision until namjoon burst through the chaos and managed to pull him off the man. jungkook resisted for a moment, but his firm grip and authoritative presence finally got through to him.

the crowd’s mood had shifted from excitement to panic, and the atmosphere became charged with tension. namjoon, his face set in grim determination, turned to you. “we need to get the fuck out of here. the cops'll be on their way soon.”

realizing the gravity of the situation, you nodded, your heart pounding with urgency. jungkook, still seething, was led away by namjoon, his anger slowly giving way to a mix of confusion and regret. you followed, your mind racing with the consequences of the night’s events and the escalating danger that now loomed over all of you. as you all made a hurried exit, the once vibrant arena was left behind in chaos, the night’s promise of celebration now overshadowed by the threat of impending law enforcement. the adrenaline of the fight and the emotions it stirred were far from over, and the path ahead was uncertain.

the roar of engines filled the air as the three of you sped through the city streets. the thrill of the ride was a stark contrast to the tension that had marked the earlier chaos at the arena. namjoon led the way, navigating through the bustling cityscape with practiced ease, and you followed closely behind him, your heart pounding from both the adrenaline of the ride and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. the city’s vibrant energy gradually gave way to quieter, more secluded areas. namjoon slowed, eventually coming to a stop in a part of town where a crowd had gathered around a cluster of motorcycles, cars, and people. the noise was a mix of idle chatter, the hum of engines, and the occasional burst of laughter.

as you dismounted your bike, you noticed namjoon making his way toward a tall man with a confident stance and an air of effortless cool. he was greeted with a casual, friendly dap, and you followed namjoon’s lead, approaching the man.

“this is seokjin,” he introduced, gesturing to the man. “he runs a similar setup to jungkook’s, but with street racing. one of korea’s best drivers.” the man turned his attention to you, offering a charming smile. “nice to meet you. heard a lot about you. pretty and skilled—quite a combination. see you've got a bike of your own.”

jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly, his earlier frustration still simmering beneath the surface. you could sense his tension as he observed seokjin’s interaction with you. despite his evident discomfort, you managed a polite smile. “thank you. jungkook actually gifted it to me.” you patted the sleek machine, its gleaming surface catching the low light. “mt-09, master of torque.”

seokjin’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. “impressive knowledge. are you familiar with cars too?” you nodded in response, “i am.”

his expression shifted to one of intrigue. “how would you like to get behind the wheel of a real beast? i can offer you some cash for a race. interested?” jungkook tensed beside you, his concern evident. “fuck no, it’s too dangerous. i don’t think you should do it.”

you met his gaze, trying to convey your resolve. “i wanna do this, i'm sure it'll be fine.” you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, an unspoken promise that you’d be careful. his eyes softened, a mixture of pride and worry flickering in his gaze.

seokjin led you to a sleek, well-maintained toyota supra, its polished surface reflecting the streetlights, before pointing to the car next to it, where a man stood. there was a dangerous glint in his eyes, though his expreasion was lifeless. “this is yoongi, your competitor tonight.” the man in his late twenties, leaning casually against his car, gave you a cursory glance. “i almost feel bad for having to shit on a pretty thing like you,” he said, his tone a mix of challenge and mock sympathy.

you met his gaze with a determined smile. “yeah, you can take it up the ass.” with the crowd forming around the makeshift racetrack, you glanced at jungkook one last time, drawing strength from his supportive, yet concerned, look. the roar of engines and the buzz of excitement from the crowd created a charged atmosphere as the race was about to begin.

the signal was given, and yoongi took the lead within seconds, his car darting ahead with impressive speed. you shifted into high gear, focusing on the road and the techniques your father had taught you. the streets blurred around you as you maneuvered through the turns with precision. your father’s advice echoed in your mind, guiding you as you expertly handled the car, swerving through tight corners and accelerating past obstacles.

as you approached the finish line, you could see yoongi’s car trailing closely behind. with one final burst of speed and a deft maneuver around a sharp turn, you pulled ahead, crossing the finish line just moments before him. the crowd erupted in cheers and applause as you stepped out of the car.

he approached, extending a hand to shake yours. “congratulations. guess you reslly aren't just pretty,” he murmured, handing you a bundle of cash. “thanks,” you replied, shaking his hand firmly. “not too bad yourself.”

as you walked back to where jungkook and seokjin were waiting, jungkook enveloped you in a tight embrace, his relief and pride palpable. he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, his warmth and affection a stark contrast to the adrenaline of the race. seokjin, watching the interaction with a satisfied grin, clapped you on the back. “did better than i expected.”

you smiled, feeling a mix of exhilaration and contentment from the night’s events. the thrill of the race, the camaraderie with people you had met not too long ago, and the respect all combined to make for a memorable evening. despite the underlying complexities what tugged at your morality, the night had been a reminder of your capabilities above all else, and you needed to remind yourself that you were capable.

the night continued to buzz with excitement as seokjin, fueled by the spontaneous energy, turned to namjoon with a gleam in his eye. “how about a race, joon? one of my drivers versus you. what do you say?” namjoon, ever confident despite his lack of experience, nodded enthusiastically. “i’m up for it. i’ve missed racing.”

jungkook, still nursing his own frustration from the evening’s events, frowned. “you sure about this? you’re not the most qualified driver out here.” he waved off the concern with a chuckle. “i’ve got it. don’t worry.”

you glanced at jungkook, who gave you a reassuring smile but the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. “good luck,” you said softly, hoping for the best as namjoon mounted his own motorcycle, ready to race. seokjin guided him to the starting line, introducing him to his opponent—a sleek, modern bike that gleamed under the streetlights. with a rev of engines and a burst of speed, the race was underway.

at first, he held a steady lead. his experience showed as he expertly navigated the turns, his confidence palpable. you watched from the sidelines, a mixture of pride and anxiety stirring in your chest. jungkook stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the race, a subtle tension in his posture. but as the race neared its climax, disaster struck. namjoon’s bike, under the strain of high-speed maneuvering, began to falter. the powerful engine sputtered unpredictably, and before he could correct his path, the bike lurched violently. he swerved uncontrollably and slammed into a guardrail with a sickening crash, metal screeching and the bike crumpling under the impact.

the sound of the collision cut through the cheers and gasps of the crowd. you and jungkook bolted toward the wreckage, pushing through the dispersing crowd. the sight before you was harrowing: namjoon lay motionless on the asphalt, the bike a twisted wreck beside him. jungkook dropped to his knees beside him, his face a mask of panic. “joon, fuck. come on, wake up,” he shook his shoulders desperately.

you fumbled for your phone, your hands trembling uncontrollably. the reality of the situation was hitting you with crushing force. the distant wail of the crowd grew louder, but the urgency of your own panic threatened to drown it out. “i’ll call for help,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to keep it steady. you dialed 911, your fingers shaking so violently you could barely press the numbers. the line rang endlessly, each second stretching into an eternity. as you waited for someone to pick up, you glanced anxiously at jungkook, who was still desperately trying to rouse namjoon. the sight of his mentor lying unconscious, blood smeared across the pavement, fueled your rising dread.

finally, the call connected. “hello, this is officer (l/n), there’s been an accident—” you began, but the words caught in your throat. the name you had used felt foreign and heavy on your tongue. the stark realization of your own duplicity hit you like a ton of bricks. you froze, your heart racing as the gravity of your dual life crushed down on you.

the voice on the other end of the line was calm and professional, but your own mind was a storm of chaos. “hello? officer (l/n), are you there? we need details.”

you barely registered the questions, your gaze locked on jungkook. his face was etched with panic, his eyes darting between namjoon and you. when he heard you use the title, a look of sheer disbelief crossed his face, followed by a chilling silence. “officer (l/n)?” he repeated, his voice a strained whisper.

your heart pounded in your chest, and your mind raced to find the right words. You wanted to explain, to justify why you had hidden this part of yourself, but the words failed you. the enormity of your deception and the fear of jungkook’s reaction left you paralyzed. you opened your mouth, but only a strangled gasp emerged.

“hello? officer?” the dispatcher’s voice cut through your turmoil.

jungkook’s stunned silence was almost louder than the sirens approaching. his shock was palpable, a mixture of betrayal and confusion etched deeply into his features. “i—” you tried to speak, but the guilt weighed heavily on your shoulders. your double life had never felt so suffocating. his focus shifted back to namjoon, whose condition was worsening by the second. his worry about namjoon’s well-being was overriding the shock of your revelation. “get the help here now,” he barked into the phone, his voice a raw edge of panic.

“take namjoon,” you said urgently, forcing yourself to stay calm despite the turmoil inside you. you fumbled with two pairs of keys, your fingers trembling with adrenaline as you did so. “take my bike and go to my house, they won't find you there. i'l take the fall. just go.”

jungkook’s eyes met yours, a flicker of gratitude visible despite the chaos. he didn’t say a word, his expression a complex blend of emotions that you couldn’t fully decipher. without another moment’s hesitation, he took the keys you offered him, gripping them tightly as if they were the last piece of hope in a dire situation.

he carefully lifted namjoon onto your bike, his movements quick but deliberate. as he started the engine, the roar of the motorcycle cut through the night, mingling with the distant wail of sirens that grew louder with each passing second. jungkook cast one last, lingering look at you, his face a mask of silent resolve, before speeding off into the darkness. you watched him disappear into the night, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your chest. the sirens grew closer, their piercing sound a grim reminder of the consequences awaiting you. alone now, you stood amid the chaos, the reality of your predicament crashing down around you. the distance between you and jungkook felt like a chasm, one that you knew might never be fully bridged.

the sirens reached a fever pitch as the police cars skidded to a halt at the scene, their flashing lights casting frantic shadows across the pavement. the officers poured out, their faces a mix of concern and suspicion as they scanned the area. you stood alone, feeling the crushing weight of your own choices.

the chief, his presence suffocating, approached you with a measured stride. his eyes flicked over the chaos—the crumpled body of namjoon's bike, the skid marks from the crash, the trail of blood. there was no trace of surprise on his face, only a steely, practiced calm. “have you apprehended the suspects?” he asked, his voice clipped.

you swallowed hard, your throat dry and constricted. “i let them go,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered with the enormity of the admission. the chief’s lips curled into a humorless smile, a cold chuckle escaping his lips. it lacked warmth and carried an edge of dark amusement. “turn in your gun and badge,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

you nodded numbly and reached into your jacket, removing the badge and firearm with trembling hands. the weight of the gun felt oddly comforting as you placed it into his outstretched hand, but you knew its significance in this moment was far different. the chief inspected the items with a scrutinizing eye before tucking them into his belt. he fixed you with a piercing gaze, one that seemed to bore into your very soul. “maybe it’s a good thing the gladiator escaped,” he said slowly, his voice taking on a menacing edge. the words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications.

you remained silent, the depth of his statement sinking in. your heart pounded in your chest, the dread rising like a tide. the chief’s words lingered, twisting around you like a noose. “if he didn’t,” the chief continued, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper, “i would’ve gunned him down just like his daddy.”

the implication was clear and devastating. your eyes widened in shock, the full weight of the threat crashing over you. you had always known that your role came with risks, but it was a cold, brutal revelation of just how far the system could reach. the chief’s gaze was implacable, his face a mask of hard determination and unyielding authority. the officers, having taken in the scene and your interaction with the chief, began to disperse. the sound of their footsteps receding was a grim backdrop to the finality of the chief’s words. he turned away, his silhouette disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in the fading light of the sirens.

the reality of what you had just heard hit you with a cold, numbing force. you stood there, stunned, the full impact of the chief’s threat crashing over you. your mind raced, struggling to process the layers of betrayal and fear that now enveloped you. as the last of the police cars pulled away, their red and blue lights dimming in the distance, you were left in the quiet aftermath. the night was eerily still, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the fading echoes of sirens. the darkness felt oppressive, and the weight of your decisions and the consequences they brought lay heavy on your shoulders.

you took jungkook's bike, the engine rumbling beneath you as you navigated the darkened streets back to your house. the night was a blur of flashing lights and shadows, your thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt and regret. the bike's power felt almost alien, the vibration beneath you a stark reminder of the chaotic night you had just endured. the road seemed endless, each turn a torturous loop as you wrestled with the weight of your decisions.

arriving at your house, you parked the bike and approached the front door with a heavy heart. the house, usually a haven, now felt like a prison of your own making. Inside, the quiet was punctuated by the faint hum of the heater and the distant thump of a heartbeat that was both your own and jungkook's, racing in unison.

you found him in your room, his presence a blend of familiarity and strangeness. he moved through the space with a deliberate slowness, his eyes taking in every detail as if trying to imprint it into his memory. the scent of your room, a mix of homey comfort and something more intimate, seemed to weigh heavily on him. he paused by the bedside, his gaze drawn to a framed photograph on the nightstand. in the photograph, you and your father were caught in a moment of unguarded happiness. your father’s arm was draped around you, his face alight with a smile that spoke of love and pride. jungkook’s fingers traced the edge of the frame, a soft, melancholic smile playing on his lips. the sight was a poignant reminder of the sacrifices you had made, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy mixed with his lingering anger.

the sound of the door creaking open pulled him from his reverie. you entered, your eyes red and puffy, your resolve steeled but your heart heavy. he looked up, his expression shifting from reflective to guarded as he met your gaze. “hey, officer (l/n). apprehend the suspects?” his voice was laden with a biting edge, the words a reminder of the betrayal he felt.

you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “i—” you began, your voice faltering, “i turned in my gun and badge.” the words felt like a confession, each syllable a stark reminder of the path you had chosen.

his eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of remorse crossing his face as he processed your sacrifice. he felt a pang of guilt for being the cause of your loss of income. But that guilt was overshadowed by the questions still gnawing at him. “so, was everything a lie?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “when you cheered me on? when we kissed, fucked? all just part of some game?”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. “no, jungkook,” you said softly. “it wasn’t a lie. everything i said, everything I felt—it was real. i enjoyed being your manager more than i ever enjoyed being an agent.” the room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. his gaze dropped to the floor, his mind racing through the events of the past days—the confusion, the betrayal, and the affection that had intertwined with it all. the silence was suffocating, a space filled with unspoken emotions and fractured trust.

you took a deep breath, your resolve firm despite the tears spilling down your cheeks. “it’s been a pleasure working with you, gladiator,” you said, the words almost a whisper as you turned to leave. he watched you walk away, his heart a tumult of conflicting emotions. as you exited the house, the cold night air hit you with a sharp bite, and you let your tears fall freely, each one a testament to the pain and regret of a choice made under duress. the night was dark, the streetlights casting a faint glow as you walked away from everything you had fought for, leaving behind a part of yourself in the house where jungkook now stood alone.

the days following your departure stretched out in agonizing silence. your absence left a void that seemed to echo through every corner of your life. in the solitude of your apartment, you numbed the pain with alcohol and smoke, each swig and puff a fleeting escape from the crushing weight of guilt and regret. your apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison of your own making, the walls closing in on you with every passing hour.

the hum of the city outside was a distant, indifferent noise as you stared blankly at the flickering screen of your television, the images a blur of color and sound that you barely registered. the drinks piled up, their empty bottles a testament to your attempts at self-forgetfulness. smoke curled in lazy spirals, filling the air with a pungent scent that clung to you like a second skin.

meanwhile, at the arena, jungkook was a shadow of his former self. the once vibrant atmosphere was now starkly empty, the space devoid of your encouraging presence. his training sessions were lackluster, his movements sluggish and uninspired. namjoon watched with growing frustration as his performance faltered, his concern for his friend shifting into irritation.

“pull yourself together, jungkook,” namjoon’s voice was a harsh whip crack against the stillness of the gym. “you’re slipping. the arena needs you sharp, not distracted.” jungkook’s jaw clenched, his hands trembling slightly as he wiped sweat from his brow. “i can’t focus,” he admitted, his voice low but laden with frustration. “it’s hard when you’re missing someone who was always there.”

namjoon’s expression hardened. “you’re letting your personal issues interfere with your performance. she’s a rat, jungkook—a fucking snitch. she betrayed us, and you can’t afford to let that mess with your head.” jungkook’s eyes flared with anger. “don’t talk about her like that,” he snapped. “she sacrificed everything for us. she lost her job for us. and this is how you repay her? by calling her a traitor?”

namjoon’s face softened just a fraction, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. “i know it’s tough, but we have to move on. you need to stay focused, for the sake of the arena.” in his heart, he knew it was true, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. he was mourning you, and what he had with you. in the end, he had introduced you to the underground. now, he had to face it without you.

the night of the next match arrived, and the atmosphere in the arena was electric with anticipation. the stands were packed with spectators, their excited chatter a sharp contrast to the emptiness jungkook felt inside. as namjoon prepped him, the usual camaraderie was absent, replaced by a heavy silence that clung to them both. “get in there and show them what you’re made of,” he said, his voice clipped but tinged with a hint of reassurance. “remember, it’s all for the fight. for the arena.”

jungkook nodded, but his heart wasn’t in it. he wasn't doing it for the arena, he was doing it for you, and you were nowhere to be seen. he stepped into the ring, the roar of the crowd a distant thrum against the pounding of his own heartbeat. as the first round began, he tried to focus, but the absence of your presence was a constant ache in his chest. the cheers from the crowd were a painful reminder of what he had lost.

the bell rang, signaling the end of the first round. jungkook wiped sweat from his brow, his movements robotic. namjoon’s voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, a sharp reminder to stay sharp. “get your shit together, jungkook! focus!”

the second round began, and jungkook’s gaze darted around the arena, searching for a glimpse of you among the sea of faces. but you were nowhere to be seen. his distraction was palpable, his movements sluggish as he struggled to stay in the fight. his opponent took advantage of his lapses in concentration, landing hits that pushed him further off balance. by the end of the second round, he had lost once more, his frustration boiling over.

namjoon’s anger was barely contained as he stormed over to him, his voice a low growl. “what the fuck? you’re letting everything fall apart. this is not how you win fights.” jungkook’s head hung low, his breath coming in ragged gasps. the weight of his failure was almost unbearable. “i just—i need her,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking. “i need her here with me.”

the third round loomed, and jungkook’s focus was shattered. the weight of the previous rounds and the constant search for a reassuring presence took its toll. as the bell rang, he stepped into the ring with a heavy heart, his movements hesitant and uncertain. the fight was brutal. he struggled to keep up, his opponent seizing every opportunity to land a blow. the crowd’s cheers turned into a blur of noise as jungkook’s energy waned. his defenses faltered, and he took a powerful hit that sent him crashing to the ground. the world spun around him, the pain a dull roar as he lost consciousness.

the referee’s voice cut through the haze, declaring the match over as medics rushed into the ring. jungkook laid motionless, his body sprawled out on the canvas. the crowd fell into stunned silence, their excitement replaced by concern. namjoon’s face was a mask of worry as he knelt beside him, his hands gripping the sides of his head, trying to rouse him.

“jungkook!” namjoon shouted, desperation edging his voice. “come on, wake the fuck up.” but he remained unmoving, his body slack and unresponsive. the arena was filled with the sound of frantic footsteps and murmurs of concern as the medics began to work on him, their faces a blend of professional calm and underlying urgency.

the phone call came through like a jolt of electricity, shattering the numbness that had settled over you. it was namjoon, his voice raw with panic and urgency. “hey, it’s me,” he said, his voice trembling. “jungkook’s down. he’s unconscious. you need to come to the arena—now.”

the world seemed to collapse around you. the reality of the situation crashed over you, a tidal wave of fear and guilt. without a second thought, you grabbed your keys, your hands shaking uncontrollably. you fumbled as you stuffed them into your pockets, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears like a relentless drum. struggling to maintain composure, you dashed out the door and mounted your motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath you. the wind whipped against your face as you sped through the empty streets, your mind a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts and worries. every red light felt like a cruel delay, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you raced towards the arena.

when you arrived, the scene was a bleak reflection of your worst fears. the arena was deserted, save for a small crowd of bystanders gathered around jungkook, who lay unconscious on the cold, concrete floor. their murmurs of concern filled the air, but their presence felt like an intrusion. you cut through the crowd, pushing aside anyone in your way with an urgency that bordered on desperation. kneeling beside him, you forced yourself to focus despite the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. his face was a mix of bruises and blood, his breaths shallow and ragged.

“jungkook, please,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you fought to keep your composure. you started by gently wiping away the blood, using your shirt as an impromptu cloth. you carefully inspected his injuries, doing your best to treat them with the limited supplies you had on hand. your hands trembled as you worked, every movement filled with the urgency of the situation. you could feel the weight of his limp body, the coldness of his skin as you checked for a pulse. your heart sank as you realized there was none.

“no, no, no,” you murmured, your voice breaking into a sob. you placed your hands on his chest, starting chest compressions with frantic determination. “come on, jungkook. you have to wake up. please.” namjoon stood nearby, his face a mix of shock and helplessness as he watched your desperate efforts. the sight of you, so determined and emotional, revealed the depth of your feelings for him. he saw you sobbing, your hands pumping his chest with a frantic rhythm, and it was clear how much you cared.

with each push and pump, tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood. your breaths came in ragged gasps, your sobs muffled as you continued the lifesaving routine. “don’t you dare leave me,” you pleaded, your voice a raw whisper in the silent space. the seconds felt like hours, each moment stretching out as you fought to keep hope alive. then, as if in response to your pleas, jungkook’s body twitched. you felt a faint pulse beneath your hands, weak but there. your heart leapt with cautious hope, and you continued the treatment with renewed fervor.

finally, his eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with a dazed expression. the relief that washed over you was overwhelming. you clutched his face, your tears falling onto his bruised skin as you kissed his forehead and brushed his hair away from his eyes. “oh fuck, jungkook,” you cried, your voice choked with emotion. “you’re awake. you’re okay.”

he struggled to focus, his hand reaching out to pull you into an embrace. “you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with relief. “you came back.” you buried your face in his shoulder, your tears mingling with his sweat. “i'm sorry,” you sobbed. “i’m so sorry for everything. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

his arms tightened around you, his tears falling silently as he kissed the top of your head. “you came back,” he repeated softly. “you came back for me.”

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes as your own continued to well up with tears. “of course i came back,” you said, your voice breaking. “i'll always come back for you.” namjoon watched the exchange with a mixture of disbelief and respect. the intensity of the moment was palpable, the raw emotion between you and jungkook a testament to the depth of your bond. he stood back, allowing the two of you to find solace in each other’s embrace.

the sirens wailed in the distance, but in that moment, all that mattered was the fragile connection between you and jungkook. the pain of the fight, the guilt of your betrayal, and the chaos of the arena seemed distant and inconsequential compared to the relief and love that surged through you both. you remained in his arms, whispering apologies and reassurances, while he held you tightly, the tears on both your faces a testament to the strength of your feelings. the night was far from over, but for now, in the quiet aftermath of the chaos, you found comfort in each other, ready to face whatever came next together.

✧.*

a/n: i hope yall fw this one omg i was gonna do an angsty ending again but im no longer in my k.will era

spoiled (스포일드) — kim seokjin (김석진)

part two can be found here

✧.* 18+

money was the silent orchestrator of the world, an unseen force that dictated the rhythm of life, the rise and fall of empires, the ebb and flow of fortunes. it was a creator and a destroyer, a source of power and a symbol of ambition. the inheritance of wealth could mold a person in myriad ways, breeding either foolish heirs who squandered their legacy or brilliant minds who elevated it. you were among the fortunate ones, born into affluence, but you were no fool.

your mother, a luminary in the fashion industry, had built an empire with her own hands. her name was synonymous with elegance and innovation, and her company was a testament to her relentless drive. you inherited not only her stunning beauty but also her formidable intellect. gorgeous, stunning—you were the epitome of grace and allure, turning heads wherever you went. yet, beneath that captivating exterior lay a mind sharper than any blade. you were the top of your class, the one whose name was always at the pinnacle of academic achievements. fluent in four languages, you navigated conversations with a fluidity that left others in awe. a scholarship awaited you, a testament to your hard work and brilliance, promising a future as bright as your past.

but intelligence and beauty weren't your only traits. there was a darker side to you, a part that thrived on power and control. you were mean, perhaps even rotten to your core, wielding your sharp wit and cutting remarks with a precision that left others reeling. it wasn't enough to be the best; you had to ensure everyone knew it, had to see the fear and admiration in their eyes. you relished in the power, in the way others bowed to your will, and it fed a part of you that nothing else could satisfy.

the grand estate was bathed in the golden hues of the late afternoon sun, its light filtering through the crystal chandeliers and casting intricate patterns on the polished marble floors. the opulence of the room was undeniable, from the sumptuous velvet drapes framing the expansive windows to the luxurious silk cushions adorning the elegant settee. the air was suffused with the delicate scent of blooming orchids and the heady fragrance of high-end perfume.

you glided through the hallways with the poise of someone accustomed to navigating both luxury and expectation, your steps silent on the plush carpet. you approached your mother’s sitting room, a space as meticulously curated as her latest fashion line. there, amidst a clutter of fabric swatches and sketchbooks, sat your mother—an embodiment of grace and precision. she was engrossed in her work, her slender fingers expertly tracing designs on a sketchpad.

“mother, what do you mean you’re getting married?” your voice was a blend of disbelief and irritation, piercing through the serene atmosphere of the room. she looked up momentarily, her gaze cool and dismissive. “you’re the only person making a big deal out of this, (y/n). have some respect. focus on your own engagement instead of mine.”

the mention of your engagement to kim taehyung—a union orchestrated purely for the benefit of your families’ business interests—sent a wave of frustration through you. it was a marriage neither of you had desired, yet it loomed over both your lives like a specter. “you have no shame, do you?” you couldn’t help but ask, the words escaping through gritted teeth. her eyes, sharp and unfeeling, met yours with a chilling calm. “while you’re at it, find a dress to wear for tonight. you’ll finally meet your step-brother in person.”

the term “step-brother” felt like a sharp jab. kim seokjin—whom you had long despised—was a man as ruthless as you were, a counterpart in cruelty. his reputation for being merciless and calculating was matched only by your own, and the thought of him entering your already complicated life was a bitter pill to swallow. you stared at your mother, her attention already drifting back to her sketches, and felt a mix of rage and resignation. that was your life—an intricate tapestry of beauty, wealth, and intelligence, all entwined with the demands and manipulations of those who wielded power without a thought for your personal happiness.

in the opulent confines of your dressing room, you moved with practiced ease among the racks of high-end garments. the room was a haven of luxury, with walls lined in elegant silk and shelves overflowing with an array of couture dresses. you sifted through the exquisite fabrics, your fingers grazing the soft silk and intricate lace as you searched for something suitable.

your mother’s voice, though distant, was still audible, her sharp instructions hanging in the air like an unwelcome perfume. “and don’t forget to accessorize properly. it’s important that you look presentable.” you rolled your eyes, dismissing her instructions with a wave of your hand as if to shoo away an irritating fly. your gaze landed on a stunning, midnight blue dress—a floor-length creation of silk and satin that flowed like liquid night. it was the perfect blend of sophistication and understated elegance, its deep hue accentuating your striking features. you slipped it on, the fabric hugging your figure with a sensual grace.

just as you were adjusting the dress, the shrill ring of your phone pierced through the ambiance of the room. glancing at the screen, you saw taehyung’s photo staring back at you, his image frozen in a charming, if somewhat distant, smile. you answered with a scoff, the irritation in your voice palpable. “hello?”

his voice came through, cold and casual. “what are you doing?” you rolled your eyes again, your tone dripping with venom. “getting ready to meet my step-brother.” the words were laced with a disdainful emphasis, meant to irritate your mother, who was still buried in her work.

there was a pause on the other end, followed by taehyung’s cautious inquiry. “is it official, then? will kim seokjin really become your step-brother?” you snorted derisively. “don’t ever call him that again,” you snapped, unable to hide the venom in your voice. “he’s nothing more than a nuisance.” with that, you ended the call abruptly, the screen darkening as you tossed your phone aside. you returned to your reflection in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your dress with a mixture of resignation and defiance. the evening ahead promised to be another stage in the endless drama of your life—a life where every interaction was tinged with power plays and unspoken rivalries.

you accompanied your mother through the opulent corridor leading to the restaurant linked to kim hyunsoo’s grand hotel, the weight of your irritation palpable with each step. the opulence of the hotel’s interior did little to soothe your mood. the lavish decor—gold leaf accents, polished marble floors, and crystal chandeliers—felt like an elaborate facade, masking the discomfort you felt.

“this is absolutely ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, the words escaping through gritted teeth. “i can’t believe i have to endure another evening of this charade.” your mother, walking beside you with her usual air of practiced elegance, offered no comment. she was focused on her phone, perhaps finalizing details for the evening or merely avoiding the exchange of pleasantries.

as you reached the entrance to the restaurant, your eyes fell on kim hyunsoo standing at the threshold, his imposing figure framed by the grand entrance. his presence was magnetic, a blend of authority and charisma. the moment he saw your mother, his face broke into a warm smile. he stepped forward and greeted her with a tender kiss on the cheek, a display of affection that seemed almost theatrical.

you couldn't suppress the scoff that escaped your lips. the gesture seemed to be as much a performance as it was genuine affection, a mere piece of the elaborate play that was your life. hyunsoo turned to you, his smile unwavering. “ah, (y/n),” he said warmly, his eyes surveying you with an appraising gaze. “you’ve certainly inherited your mother’s looks.”

the comment made you cringe inwardly, though you maintained a polite smile. “thank you,” you replied, forcing a touch of gratitude into your voice. your gaze shifted to the table where kim seokjin sat, his presence commanding attention even from a distance. he was seated with a relaxed posture, a faint smirk playing on his lips—a smirk you knew all too well. the dynamic between him and his father was palpable; hyunsoo’s authoritative demeanor was mirrored by the cold distance he maintained with his son.

“seokjin, please stand up, don't be rude” his father instructed, his voice tinged with an almost imperceptible note of command. seokjin rose with a practiced grace, his smirk never faltering. as he approached your mother, he greeted her with a display of chivalry, his smile polished and disarmingly charming. “good evening, ma'am. it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

he turned his attention to you, extending a hand with a smirk that seemed to say he knew all your secrets. “haven’t seen you in a while, sister.” you couldn’t help but scoff at the nickname, the term dripping with insincerity. “how’s my friend, the fiancé?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing edge.

you rolled your eyes, though you tried to keep your tone even. “taehyung has been well, thank you for asking.”

your mother, sensing the undercurrent of tension, quickly intervened. “let’s not stand on ceremony. please, everyone, let’s sit down and enjoy our meal.” with that, the group moved to their seats, the evening set to unfold in the lavish surroundings of the restaurant. the table, elegantly set with fine china and crystal glasses, seemed to promise a night of carefully orchestrated politeness and hidden animosities. as you settled into your chair, you braced yourself for the intricate dance of social niceties and familial politics that lay ahead.

the dining room, bathed in the soft glow of hanging chandeliers, was a tableau of refined elegance. the table was adorned with pristine white linens, crystal glassware, and polished silver cutlery, each element meticulously arranged to complement the luxurious surroundings. as you and the others settled into your seats, the clinking of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation filled the space.

hyunsoo, with his air of effortless charm, took the lead in the conversation. “so, (y/n),” he began, addressing you with a casual interest, “how do you and my son know each other?” you placed your fork down, your gaze steady. “we attend the same high school,” you explained, your tone even. “he used to be friends with taehyung, my fiancé.”

hyunsoo turned his attention to his son, his eyes narrowing slightly as he posed a question. “seokjin, why did you two stop hanging out?” his son, sitting with an air of casual defiance, responded with a scoff.

“i’d rather not talk about it,” he said dismissively. he then directed his gaze back to you, his smirk reappearing with an almost predatory gleam. “do give him my best regards,” he said with an insincere sweetness that made your skin crawl.

the conversation was beginning to wear on your patience. the façade of civility, the undercurrents of tension—it was all too much. with a sigh, you decided it was best to excuse yourself. “i’ve lost my appetite,” you announced, standing up with a decisive motion. “i’ll be leaving now.” without waiting for a response, you made your way out of the restaurant, the cool evening air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the allure of retail therapy beckoned. you needed to blow off steam and escape the artificial pleasantries of the evening.

just as you were contemplating how to leave without drawing unwanted attention, you heard the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. turning around, you saw seokjin approaching, his smirk as unwavering as ever. “planning to see lover boy?” he asked, his voice carrying a taunting edge. you arched an eyebrow, the irritation in your tone barely concealed. “i’m going shopping. i can’t stand this anymore.”

his expression shifted slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips as he leaned in closer. “i hate it as much as you do,” he admitted in a low voice. “but there’s nothing you can do about it. you’ll just have to make peace with being my sister.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his audacity. “and why should i take advice from you?”

he gestured toward a sleek motorcycle parked at the curb, its dark surface gleaming under the streetlights. “the mall’s too far away, princess,” he said with a casual shrug. “good luck walking there.” he turned and began to walk toward the motorcycle, his smirk growing wider.

you hesitated for a moment, the prospect of walking a long distance against the backdrop of your frustration compelling you to reconsider. with a resigned sigh, you caved and followed him. he glanced over his shoulder, a satisfied gleam in his eye as he handed you a helmet. “climb on,” he instructed. “and hold on tight.”

you mounted the motorcycle with a scoff, feeling his smirk radiate through the air. as he settled into place in front of you, the rumble of the engine beneath you provided a thrilling contrast to the evening’s earlier tension. you gripped the edges of his jacket, readying yourself for the ride. his presence, though infuriating, was about to take you away from the constraints of the evening’s charade and into the night’s liberating possibilities.

the rumble of the motorcycle beneath you was a steady, rhythmic pulse as seokjin maneuvered through the city streets, heading towards the mall. the cool night air whipped past you, mingling with the hum of the engine and the occasional flash of neon lights from the passing storefronts. the journey was a blend of discomfort and unexpected exhilaration, with his occasional glances over his shoulder adding a touch of irritation to the otherwise liberating ride.

when the motorcycle finally came to a stop in front of the gleaming mall entrance, you dismounted, the solid ground beneath your feet a welcome change from the bike’s vibrations. you turned to him, eyebrow raised in surprise. “where do you think you’re going?” you asked, catching sight of him sliding off the motorcycle with a casual grace. his smirk was as unwavering as ever. “accompanying you,” he replied, arching an eyebrow with a nonchalant air. “it’s the brotherly thing to do, after all.”

you rolled your eyes but chose not to argue. with a huff, you headed towards the entrance of the mall, the anticipation of shopping lifting your spirits slightly. the vast interior of the mall was a labyrinth of luxury boutiques, department stores, and specialty shops, all bathed in the soft, ambient glow of recessed lighting.

you wandered through a myriad of stores, each one a treasure trove of fashion and accessories. from high-end clothing to chic accessories and luxurious makeup, you filled multiple shopping bags to the brim. each time your arms began to tire, you’d hand the bags over to seokjin, who wore an expression of resigned defeat.

his initial smirk had faded into a look of palpable exhaustion as he struggled to juggle the growing collection of shopping bags. “is this really necessary?” he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. you smirked at him, reveling in his discomfort. “it’s the brotherly thing to do,” you replied with a teasing inflection, mimicking his earlier words. he merely scoffed, but he complied, following you through store after store. the evening wore on, the mall’s atmosphere a dizzying blur of bright lights and vibrant displays.

as you perused a selection of skirts, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name. you turned, surprised to see taehyung striding towards you with an expression of concern. seokjin’s scoff was barely audible beside you. “you’ve gotta be joking,” he muttered under his breath.

taehyung approached, his gaze shifting between you and seokjin with evident disapproval. “what are you doing with him?” he asked, his tone edged with tension. before you could respond, seokjin wrapped an arm around you, his smirk a mocking contrast to taehyung’s serious demeanor. “shopping with her brother,” he said smoothly. “we’re just bonding. why the long face?”

taehyung’s eyes narrowed in response. “call me when you get the chance,” he said, his voice softening as he turned to you. he leaned in and planted a brief, affectionate kiss on your cheek before stepping back. seokjin scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain. “how touching,” he remarked sarcastically.

the display of affection felt hollow, a forced gesture that did little to alleviate the artificiality of the evening. you turned to seokjin with a glare, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “you haven’t told him, have you?”

he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “what? that you slept with me?” he asked, his tone nonchalant. “can’t say that I have.”

the memory of that night—the one you had hoped to keep buried—flashed through your mind, bringing a wave of discomfort. you grimaced, your voice sharp with a sudden edge. “keep it that way,” you snapped. “for both our sakes.” his eyes narrowed slightly, though his smirk remained. “consider it done,” he said with a shrug. “but don’t expect me to be quiet forever.” as he turned to follow you once more, the tension between you felt almost palpable, the facade of familial civility wearing thin. the revelation, unexpected and intense, hung in the air like a dark cloud over the evening's strained politeness, promising that the complex web of relationships and hidden truths was far from over.

the ride back to your place was a strained silence punctuated only by the low rumble of the engine and the occasional rush of wind. seokjin’s grip on the handlebars was steady, but the tension between you was almost tangible. the city lights flickered by in a blur, the streets now quiet and calm after the evening's earlier hustle. as he maneuvered the bike into the parking lot of your residential complex, you could see the familiar outline of your building emerging from the shadows. the cool night air greeted you as you dismounted, the weight of the evening's events heavy on your shoulders.

your mother was waiting outside, a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, the smoke curling lazily into the night. her face lit up with a practiced smile when she spotted the two of you. “oh, what a lovely surprise,” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with insincerity. “i’m so happy to see you both bonding.” seokjin gave a polite nod, his expression a mask of courteousness. “good night, ma'am” he said, preparing to leave.

but before he could pull away, your mother called out, her tone shifting from casual to inviting. “oh, seokjin, why don’t you stay the night? you might as well make yourself comfortable, since you and your father will be moving in soon anyway.” you let out an audible scoff, your annoyance clear. “mother, that—”

his initial inclination to decline was evident, but when he caught sight of your reaction, a calculating smirk slowly crept onto his face. “i’d be honoured,” he said smoothly, addressing your mother. the shift in his demeanor was immediate, and you felt your face fall in horror. the realization of what this meant settled over you like a cold, heavy blanket. your mother, oblivious to your distress, beamed with delight. “wonderful!” she exclaimed. “come inside, both of you.”

you turned to him with a glare, your frustration palpable. “what do you think you’re doing?” you demanded. his smirk widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “just keeping my sister company,” he replied, his voice dripping with insincerity.

with a resigned sigh, you turned on your heel and headed towards the entrance of the building. “fine,” you said curtly. “you can start by carrying the bags in.” the satisfaction of seeing his grimace as he picked up the bags was a small consolation as you walked inside, the weight of the evening’s revelations settling heavily over you. the prospect of having seokjin as a constant presence in your life, particularly as your step-brother, was an unsettling twist that promised to complicate things further.

as you prepared for bed, the hum of conversation from the living room seeped into your room. the voices of your mother and seokjin intertwined in a nauseating symphony of pleasantries and false intimacy. the sound of his laughter, insincere and mocking, only served to heighten your irritation. you could imagine the sickeningly sweet exchange taking place just beyond the door: your mother’s fluttering giggles and his carefully measured compliments.

you stood in front of your mirror, the soft, silken strands of your hair cascading over your shoulders as you brushed them out. each stroke was a deliberate motion, a small attempt to maintain a semblance of control amid the chaos that had abruptly entered your life. the pale light of the bedside lamp illuminated your reflection, casting delicate shadows on your features.

suddenly, your mother’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. “(y/n), come to the living room for a moment.”

your heart sank as you walked down the hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last. the living room’s soft, warm light contrasted starkly with the cool, calculating presence of seokjin, who was lounging comfortably on the sofa. his eyes met yours with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“oh, there you are,” your mother said with a bright, if forced, cheerfulness. “seokjin proposed such a wonderful idea. we should invite taehyung for breakfast with the whole family tomorrow.” the words felt like a punch to the gut. your stomach churned, and you felt your face pale as you glared at him. the smirk on his face was almost predatory, a silent taunt that he knew exactly what he was doing. “it’s been a while since i've seen him,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, feigning nostalgia.

your mouth went dry, and you struggled to maintain your composure. “taehyung’s been busy with the company,” you said, forcing a casual tone into your voice. your mother’s eyes narrowed with impatience. “nonsense,” she said dismissively. “he always makes time for his fiancée. don’t be ridiculous, (y/n).”

seokjin chimed in, his voice laced with an undercurrent of venom. “i’d think so too. it would be nice to catch up.” biting back the retort on the tip of your tongue, you managed to force a strained smile. “i’ll give him a call and see if he can make it.”

your mother’s face lit up with unrestrained delight. “perfect! we’ll all have a lovely time.”

with a final nod, your mother headed towards her bedroom, leaving you and seokjin alone. you retreated to your room, your mind a tumult of frustration and unease. as you resumed brushing your hair, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. he was standing just outside your door, watching you with an unsettling, predatory gaze.

“are you out of your mind?” you snapped, not turning around. his smirk widened as he stepped into the room, his presence exuding a palpable tension. he moved with deliberate slowness, his footsteps almost silent against the polished floor. as he approached, your breath quickened, the space between you narrowing until his breath was warm against the back of your neck. he gently pushed your hair aside, his touch lingering just a little too long.

“what’s the issue?” he murmured, his voice low and taunting. “are you so afraid of your fiancé finding out about our little rendezvous? or perhaps you’re concerned your mother might discover that her perfect daughter has a rather troubling fondness for her new stepbrother?”

you stiffened in front of the mirror, your heart racing. desperately trying to maintain a facade of calm, you replied, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he chuckled softly, the sound resonating with dark amusement. “oh, i’m sure you don’t,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “well, good night then. i look forward to seeing my brother-in-law tomorrow.”

as he walked away, the soft click of the door closing behind him left you in a charged silence. the intensity of the moment lingered, leaving you with a tangled mix of dread and apprehension. as you stared at your reflection, the night’s revelations swirled around you, setting the stage for the complex and treacherous path that lay ahead.

as the clock ticked away into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself hunched over your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you typed out a message to taehyung. the screen’s dim glow illuminated your face, casting shadows that only seemed to deepen the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“hey, taehyung. i’ve arranged for breakfast with my family tomorrow. it would mean a lot if you could join us. i hope you’re free.” you stared at the message for a moment, the words feeling like a leaden weight. the last thing you wanted was for him to be in the same room as seokjin, but you couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to cancel the invitation. with a resigned sigh, you hit send, hoping for an excuse to emerge from somewhere, anywhere. throwing your phone onto the bedside table, you buried your face in the cool sheets and forced yourself to sleep, even as the anxiety kept your mind racing.

when morning light filtered through the curtains, you reluctantly dragged yourself from the bed. the day stretched before you, fraught with the tension of what awaited. you moved through your morning routine with mechanical precision, each movement a choreographed dance of necessity rather than joy. dressed in a sleek, sophisticated outfit—elegant yet understated—you made your way to the dining hall. the murmur of conversation and the clink of cutlery reached your ears before you even stepped inside. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

the scene that greeted you was like a punch to the gut. the dining table was a tableau of familial warmth and cheer, a stark contrast to the tumult brewing within you. your mother sat at the head of the table, a vision of radiant composure, while seokjin and his father occupied the seats on either side. the sight that nearly made your heart stop was taehyung, seated directly beside seokjin, his expression a mix of discomfort and forced politeness.

the moment you entered, seokjin’s eyes lit up with a devious glint. his smirk widened as he called out in a tone laced with mock cheerfulness, “there’s my sister! finally decided to join us?” your stomach dropped as your mother’s face brightened. “oh, you’re just in time!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “we’ve been waiting for you.”

seokjin’s father turned to you, his gaze appreciative as he remarked, “you look stunning this morning.” you offered a strained smile in return, your insides twisting with a mixture of frustration and dread. with deliberate steps, you crossed the room and took a seat directly across from seokjin. the breakfast spread was a feast of opulent proportions, but your appetite was long gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease.

turning to taehyung, you forced a pleasant smile. “good morning, taehyung.” his response was a carefully controlled, if equally false, smile. “good morning, sweetheart.”

the term of endearment seemed to have a magnetic effect on seokjin, who looked at taehyung with an expression that flickered between amusement and something darker—resentment, perhaps. the corners of his mouth twitched as if he were about to say something, but he restrained himself, the hint of a smirk still playing at his lips. your mother’s cooing only served to heighten the discomfort. “oh, you two make such a lovely couple. it’s wonderful to see you both getting along so well.”

seokjin’s eyes were a dark pool of satisfaction as he observed the interaction, clearly reveling in the discomfort he had orchestrated. the breakfast proceeded with strained conversation and polite laughter, each bite of food tasting like cardboard, each exchange of pleasantries feeling like a forced performance. the morning air was thick with the pretenses and tensions that lay just beneath the surface. each passing moment felt like a countdown to the inevitable fallout, and you could only hope that somehow, someway, this precarious balance would hold until you could escape the confines of the gilded cage.

the clinking of cutlery against fine china created a rhythmic backdrop to the strained conversation. your mother, ever the adept conversationalist, turned her attention to you and taehyung with a gleaming smile. “so,” she began, her tone warm and honeyed, “have you two given any more thought to the wedding plans? i’m sure there’s so much to organize, but it’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?”

taehyung, his expression a mask of polite detachment, nodded. “yes, we’ve been working through the details. there’s a lot to consider, but we’re managing.” you offered a non-committal shrug. “it’s just a formality, really. the details don’t matter much to me.”

your mother’s smile faltered slightly but she pressed on. “oh, but it’s such an important day. you’ll want everything to be perfect.” seokjin, who had been watching with a calculating gaze, leaned in with a fabricated sincerity. “you two are such a precious couple. it’s heartwarming to see you both so committed.”

you shot him a glare, your eyes narrowing in warning, but the intensity of his smirk only grew. unbeknownst to the others at the table, his hand began a slow, deliberate journey up your hamstring, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your ankle before tracing along your heel. a shiver ran up your spine, not from pleasure but from the shock of his audacity. his touch was both tender and invasive, a contradictory blend that left you feeling unnervingly exposed. his eyes flickered toward taehyung, who was deeply engaged in conversation with your mother, oblivious to the silent exchange happening under the table.

with a determined calmness, you shifted your foot, removing the heel from your shoe. you pressed your bare sole gently against his clothed crotch, the contact eliciting a subdued grunt from him. the sound was enough to draw the attention of everyone at the table.

your mother's head snapped toward him, a frown of concern etched on her face. “is everything alright?” seokjin cleared his throat, a mask of discomfort now in place. “just a bit of a cramp,” he said, his voice strained but controlled. “i’ll be fine.”

your mother’s eyes softened with concern. “do you need an ice pack, dear?” he shook his head, though his eyes remained locked with yours, a smirk barely contained. “no, thank you. i’ll manage.”

as you slipped your foot back into your heel, the smug satisfaction on your face was palpable. the brief encounter had been a dangerous game, but you had managed to assert some measure of control. the exchange was subtle, yet charged with an intensity that left your pulse racing. taehyung, still watching seokjin with a mixture of worry and suspicion, glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. he seemed to sense that something had occurred, but the details eluded him. you met his gaze with an innocent, if somewhat strained, smile.

seokjin’s gaze lingered on you, his smirk now a twisted symbol of triumph. the underlying tension was almost tangible, a dark thread weaving through the seemingly mundane breakfast conversation. despite the outward civility, the air crackled with an unspoken challenge, a game of dominance played out in the guise of a simple family meal.

as taehyung prepared to leave, you approached him with a practiced grace, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. the gesture, though routine, was met with enthusiastic coos from your mother and her new husband, their faces lighting up with approval. seokjin, however, observed with a dark intensity, his gaze locked with taehyung’s in a silent, menacing exchange. the atmosphere crackled with unspoken hostility as he departed, leaving you standing at the threshold of your room.

once alone, you retreated to your room, eager to change out of your breakfast attire. your wardrobe offered a range of options, but you were immediately drawn to a sleek, pink dress. as you pulled it from the hanger, a voice, cold and commanding, cut through the quiet. “don’t wear that one. too short.”

startled, you turned to see seokjin standing in the doorway, his smirk taunting. you rolled your eyes and tossed the dress aside with a dismissive flick of your wrist. “it’s none of your concern.” his amusement only grew. he sauntered closer, the confidence in his step both unsettling and provocative. his next question was blunt, his eyes narrowing with a predatory glint. “have you and taehyung fucked yet?”

you recoiled, a flush rising to your cheeks as you scoffed at his vulgarity. “you’re disgusting,” you decided to do what you did best—you lied. “but if you must know, yes, we have.”

his smirk never wavered as he drew near, his breath warm against your ear. “oh, really? was he good?” your heart raced, but you forced yourself to respond with practiced nonchalance. “the best i’ve ever had.”

before you could register the full impact of your lie, his hands were on your hips, his touch sending an involuntary shiver through you. his fingers grazed the fabric of your dress, moving with deliberate slowness. he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, igniting a frisson of unwanted pleasure. the sensation was overwhelming as his finger slipped beneath the hem of your dress, brushing your clit through your underwear. a sharp yelp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto his arm, your grip tight as if to anchor yourself in the face of his audacity.

“stop,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. “anyone could come in.”

seokjin’s eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction as he withdrew his touch, his fingers lingering in the air for a moment. he turned toward the door, but not before performing a slow, deliberate motion that made your stomach churn. he brought his finger to his mouth, licking it clean with a sensuous, unhurried stroke. “just wanted a taste,” he said softly, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “breakfast wasn’t enough.”

with that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him. you stood frozen, your mind racing as you processed the invasion of privacy and the degradation you had just endured. the room felt oppressively quiet, the tension of the encounter leaving an acrid taste in the air. you hurried to your mirror, your reflection revealing a flush of lust and humiliation. your hands trembled as you grasped the discarded dress, the weight of his touch lingering in your senses. desperately, you tried to compose yourself, to regain some semblance of control as you prepared to face the rest of the day.

the day had dawned with a biting chill, but you were too preoccupied with the turmoil from the night before to pay it any heed. as you slipped into your uniform, the short, beige skirt clung uncomfortably to your hips. you meticulously dusted off the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles as best as you could. the skirt, although practical, felt like an unwelcome reminder of the escalating tension between you and seokjin.

stepping out of your room, you were met with your mother’s beaming smile. she was already preparing to offer you a ride, her cheerfulness a stark contrast to your inner turmoil. but before she could extend the offer, seokjin appeared beside her, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of approval and something darker.

“i’ll take her,” he announced smoothly, his voice carrying a confident, almost commanding tone. your mother’s face lit up with delight. “oh, that’s a wonderful idea, jin! i’m sure you two will have a pleasant drive.”

you tried to voice your protest, but the words seemed to die on your lips as you followed him to the entrance. as you walked, you felt his hand graze your thigh—a touch both intimate and unnervingly casual. a shiver ran up your spine as he let out a soft tsk, his gaze sliding down to your skirt. “this skirt's much too short,” he commented with a feigned air of disapproval. you fought the urge to flinch at his touch, though it left a disconcerting sensation in your stomach. rolling your eyes, you replied, “it’s not short enough.”

his sharp look silenced you instantly, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that made you want to shrink away. without a word, he reached into the compartment of his motorcycle and pulled out a helmet. the sleek, black visor seemed to glint with a dangerous promise. he handed it to you with a barely perceptible smirk. “here,” he said, “you’ll need this.”

you took the helmet with a resigned sigh, slipping it over your head. as you adjusted it, seokjin mounted his motorcycle with practiced ease. he gestured for you to climb on behind him. with a deep breath, you wrapped your arms around his waist, the feel of his body against yours both unsettling and strangely thrilling. his touch was almost absent as he guided the motorcycle out of the driveway, his movements smooth and fluid. the engine roared to life beneath you, and you felt the vibration travel up through the seat, connecting you in a way that was both intimate and intrusive. as the bike picked up speed, the wind whipped around you, a harsh reminder of the precarious balance between control and chaos in your relationship with him.

the motorcycle finally rolled to a stop outside the grand gates of your school, a prestigious, modern private institution that towered above you with its gleaming glass façade and intricate architectural details. the building seemed to pulse with a life of its own, reflecting the morning sun in a dazzling display of light. you dismounted quickly, feeling seokjin’s presence just behind you as you surveyed the sea of students who turned their heads to watch.

with a practiced air of indifference, you strode towards the entrance, the clack of your heels against the pavement sharp and commanding. seokjin matched your pace, his stride relaxed yet unmistakably assured. his presence only amplified the scrutiny from your peers, their eyes flitting between you and him as they whispered amongst themselves.

the hallways of the school were just as opulent as the exterior, decorated with sleek marble floors and walls adorned with modern art. you approached your locker with the familiar weight of the day’s burden pressing on your shoulders. as you spun the combination, the soft murmur of voices from two girls near the lockers caught your attention. “did you see that?” one whispered, her tone tinged with awe and curiosity. “she’s with kim seokjin.”

“yeah,” the other replied, “i heard he’s going to be her stepbrother. and what about taehyung? is he still her fiancé?” you froze momentarily, your mind racing. you snapped your head in their direction, the edge of your gaze sharp enough to cut through the uncertainty that hung in the air. the girls fell silent, their eyes widening as they avoided your stare.

“speak up,” you demanded, your voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “i can’t hear you properly.” the two girls exchanged terrified glances before they hastily gathered their things and hurried away, their retreating footsteps echoing down the corridor. you slammed your locker shut with a decisive bang, the sound reverberating through the hallway. the echo of their whispers was replaced by the gentle, almost mocking chuckle of seokjin beside you.

“you know,” he said with a smirk, his voice low and teasing, “you might want to consider being a bit nicer. you’d have less to deal with if you did.”

you shot him a look that could have frozen fire, your expression a mix of annoyance and disdain. “dealing with you is a death sentence itself,” you retorted sharply. his amusement only grew as he followed you down the hallway, his laughter a low, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in time with your quickening pace. the halls were filled with a soft hum of activity as students bustled about, their chatter and laughter creating a backdrop to your tense exchange.

the bell chimed with its usual, resonant clang, signaling the beginning of your literature class. the room, with its rows of wooden desks and high-backed chairs, settled into a hush as students rustled through their notebooks and textbooks. the light from the large windows spilled across the floor in golden patches, warming the space and casting a serene glow over the scene.

the professor, a middle-aged woman with a penchant for dramatic flair, stepped to the front of the class. she adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat, her eyes twinkling with the promise of intellectual challenge.

“today,” she began, “we will be delving into the complexities of shakespeare’s works. i want to start by discussing hamlet. can anyone tell me about the significance of the ghost in the play?” the room was filled with a heavy silence as students exchanged glances, their faces betraying a mix of uncertainty and reluctance. you could almost feel the collective hesitation hanging in the air. with a soft, derisive scoff, you raised your hand.

“yes, (y/n)?” the professor prompted. “the ghost of king hamlet represents the unresolved issues and the sins of the past,” you began smoothly, your tone both confident and nonchalant. “he acts as a catalyst for hamlet’s quest for revenge and moral reflection, underscoring the play’s themes of corruption and madness.”

the professor nodded appreciatively, and you continued to field the subsequent questions with equal ease. your responses flowed effortlessly, the knowledge gained from countless hours of studying shakespeare’s intricacies and nuances evident in your answers. each question seemed to melt away beneath your adept grasp of the material, leaving the professor and the class in a state of quiet admiration—or, perhaps, envy.

throughout your impromptu display of literary prowess, seokjin sat at the back of the room, his gaze locked on you with an expression of bemused amusement. his smirk widened with each correct answer, his eyes sparkling with an inscrutable mixture of pride and mischief. the way he watched you, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual elegance, made it clear that he enjoyed every moment of your intellectual dominance.

then, breaking the relative silence of the lecture, his voice cut through the air with a deliberate casualness. “professor,” he began, his tone smooth and deliberately casual, “will the class be covering cymbeline at any point?” your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the play. you froze, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk as your eyes shot towards him. his gaze met yours, and the smirk on his lips was infuriatingly smug.

the professor, momentarily taken aback, adjusted her glasses and thought for a moment. “ah, cymbeline,” she mused. “it is indeed a romance about the struggles and complexities of unrequited love between the characters of cloten and imogen, who, as it turns out, are stepsiblings. we will be covering this play in our syllabus, and you’ll have the opportunity to discuss its themes and characters in the near future.”

as she spoke, you felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. the connection he had made—whether intentional or not—was impossible to ignore. the irony of discussing a romance between stepsiblings while seated next to him, the future stepbrother in your life, was nearly unbearable. you buried your face in your hands, the heat of mortification blending with frustration. seokjin’s amusement was palpable. he leaned back, his smirk widening as he relished in the discomfort he had stirred. his eyes glinted with satisfaction as he observed your reaction, finding some twisted pleasure in the way you squirmed beneath his gaze.

the bell rang, its sharp peal reverberating through the hallways of the private school. students began to shuffle out of the classroom, their voices mingling into a hum of chatter as they made their way to their next destination. you, with a determined stride, pushed through the crowd, eager to escape the claustrophobic confines of the literature class.

just as you were about to leave the classroom, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“impressive as always, sister” seokjin said with a mocking inflection in his tone. “your knowledge of literature, your prowess in speaking four languages, and let’s not forget your mathematical skills. quite the renaissance woman.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him and quickening your pace. “not now, seokjin,” you muttered, focusing on the path ahead.

with his characteristic blend of confidence and insolence, he wasn’t easily deterred. he kept pace beside you, his footsteps echoing your own. “oh, but wait,” he continued, a sly smile curling his lips, “such brilliance, and yet—”

he paused dramatically, letting his words hang in the air. you shot him a wary glance, your irritation mounting. “and yet?” you prompted, trying to keep your voice steady. “so smart,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “until she’s on her knees for her stepbrother.”

you froze mid-step, the echo of his words reverberating in your mind. the hallway seemed to close in around you, the chatter of students fading into a distant murmur. you whirled around to face him, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “keep it down, asshole” you hissed, glancing around to ensure no one else could hear. “anyone could hear you.”

his smirk widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. without warning, he reached out and grasped your wrist, pulling you back towards him. you stumbled slightly, your back pressing against his chest as he held you close.

“don’t you want to have lunch with your stepbrother?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. the proximity made your pulse quicken, a mixture of fear and frustration bubbling beneath the surface. you shivered, both from his touch and the implications of his words. “let go, asshole,” you said, struggling to free yourself from his grip. “this isn’t funny.”

he didn’t release you, though. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “come on,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine. “you can’t avoid me forever.” reluctantly, you sighed and resigned yourself to the situation. “fine,” you muttered, “let’s go.”

his grip on your wrist loosened, and he finally released you, though he maintained a close proximity as you both made your way to the cafeteria. the hallway was bustling with students, their faces a blur of excitement and chatter. he walked beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the tension between you. as you entered the cafeteria, the noise level surged. The scent of various foods—freshly baked bread, savory meats, and sweet desserts—filled the air. the large room was filled with long tables, some already occupied by groups of students engaged in animated conversations. you and seokjin made your way to an empty table in the corner, away from the more crowded areas.

he pulled out a chair for you with an exaggerated flourish, his smirk never fading. “after you, dear step-sister,” he said, his voice dripping with mock politeness.

you sat down, your eyes narrowing at him as you took in the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him. his presence was both intimidating and infuriating. as you began to look over the food options, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you, you could feel the weight of his words and actions pressing down on you. “why are you doing this?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached for a plate. his eyes sparkled with mischief. “doing what?” he asked innocently, though the gleam in his eye betrayed his true intentions.

“playing games,” you clarified, your frustration palpable. “why make things so difficult?” he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “it’s not about making things difficult,” he said casually. “it’s about making things interesting. besides, it’s not every day i get to spend time with my step-sister.”

as you both waited for your food, the cafeteria buzzed with the chatter of other students, the atmosphere filled with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the tension between you and him. the clash of his casual demeanor against your stiff, frustrated silence created a palpable tension in the air, one that neither of you seemed willing to break.

as he leaned back in his chair, his casual demeanor never faltering, you turned to him with an edge of exasperation in your voice. “seokjin,” you began, your tone sharp, “stop calling me your step-sister. it’s not funny.” his smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “oh, but it is funny,” he said, a mischievous tone threading through his words. “besides, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

before you could retort, the cafeteria doors swung open with a familiar creak. taehyung walked in, his expression taut with displeasure. his eyes locked onto yours and then to seokjin. he approached the table, his gaze stern. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice low and controlled but clearly irritated.

seokjin, seemingly unfazed, looked up at him with a smirk. “isn’t it obvious?” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “i’m simply enjoying lunch with my sister.” you shot him a withering glare, feeling the flush of humiliation creeping up your neck. taehyung’s patience seemed to wear thin as he turned to you.

“get up,” he said firmly, extending his hand. you stared at him in astonishment. “what? why?”

“just get up,” he repeated, his tone brooking no argument. reluctantly, you stood, but before you could move, seokjin’s hand shot out, gripping your arm with surprising force. “sit back down,” he commanded, his voice icy.

taehyung’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “if you don’t let her go,” he said through gritted teeth, “i’ll knock your ass out clean.”

seokjin’s smirk remained, his eyes twinkling with dark amusement. “please,” he said, gesturing towards the other students who had begun to watch the scene unfold. “let’s not make a scene.”

mortification washed over you as the stares of the students pierced through you like daggers. “cut it out, both of you,” you said, your voice rising in desperation. “this is ridiculous.”

taehyung’s frustration was palpable as he reached for your wrist, pulling gently. “let’s go,” he said firmly. but just as he began to lead you away, seokjin yanked you back by your other arm, his grip unyielding. the two men locked eyes, the tension between them nearly tangible.

taehyung’s jaw clenched. “watch what you’re doing,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. seokjin’s smirk only deepened. “oh, i’m just having a little fun,” he said, his tone taunting. “if you think you can do something about it, feel free to try.”

before taehyung could make a move, you interjected, your voice trembling but resolute. “seokjin,” you said firmly, “i’ll be right back.” his eyes flashed with reluctant understanding, though his smirk remained. he released his grip on your arm but maintained a watchful gaze as you began to follow taehyung. as you moved away, the atmosphere crackled with an unspoken challenge between the two of them. you glanced back once, catching seokjin’s smirk as he watched you go. taehyung, leading you away, was clearly trying to keep his anger in check, his grip on your wrist tight but not painful.

he led you outside the front doors of the school, the crisp afternoon air hitting you with a sharpness that matched the tension between you. he didn’t release his grip on your wrist until you were standing under the shadow of a large oak tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. “what’s your problem?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady despite the surge of anger and hurt. “why are you being such an asshole? neither of us wanted this engagement, so why does it matter what i do?”

his glare was as cold as steel. “it matters because my reputation is on the line,” he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. “i didn’t agree to this engagement, but i have to uphold a certain image. seeing you so close to seokjin makes me look weak and unreliable. that’s something i can’t afford.”

the hurt in your chest felt like a physical blow, but you held your tongue as he continued. “i don’t care what you do behind closed doors,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “just keep it out of the public eye. my reputation is at stake, and i expect you to be more mindful of that when others are around.” his words cut deep, leaving you standing there, stunned and wounded. the weight of his disapproval pressed heavily upon you, making it hard to breathe. as he turned on his heel and walked away, his stride confident and unyielding, you were left grappling with his harsh words.

as you stood there, processing the sting of his words, you felt a familiar touch on your shoulder. you turned to see seokjin standing behind you, his gaze sympathetic yet carrying an undercurrent of coldness as he watched taehyung retreating in the distance. “come on,” he said gently, his tone soft but firm. “i’ll take you home.”

you nodded, unable to muster more than a weary sigh. seokjin’s presence was a mixed blessing—his offer of support came with its own complexities, but right now, it was a comfort. as he guided you back towards his motorcycle, the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words and shared tension. you both walked in silence, the rustling leaves and distant hum of traffic filling the void. the drive back to your place was equally quiet, with his driving marked by an attentive, almost contemplative air. you glanced occasionally at him, but his eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable.

when you finally arrived at your place, the familiar surroundings did little to ease the turmoil inside you. seokjin parked the motorcycle and turned to you, his gaze softening slightly. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and sincere. you nodded, though the ache in your chest told a different story. “i’ll be fine,” you said, forcing a small smile. “thanks for the ride.”

his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a short nod. “if you need anything,” he said softly, “just let me know.” with that, you both stepped out. as you made your way to the door, his presence was a steady, albeit complex, support. you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the comfort of your home offering a momentary reprieve from the emotional storm.

the evening settled over the house, casting long shadows across the rooms as you moved through the kitchen, tidying up for dinner. the comforting hum of the dishwasher filled the space, a soothing background to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. you wiped down the counters with mechanical precision, trying to keep your mind occupied and away from the earlier confrontation with taehyung and the underlying tension with seokjin.

as you finished cleaning, you joined your mother and seokjin at the dining table. the air, which had once held a certain playful charm, now felt dense and suffocating. the weight of your mother’s earlier conversation with taehyung and the ensuing emotional turmoil clung to you like a shroud.

she seized the opportunity to delve into a discussion about your engagement. “you know,” she began, her tone casual yet probing, “i was thinking about the wedding preparations. we need to finalize the guest list and decide on the venue soon. It’s such an important event, and i want everything to be perfect for you and taehyung.” you nodded, though the words felt like daggers. “i’m sure everything will work out,” you replied, your voice tight with suppressed emotion.

seokjin, sitting across the table, cast a sympathetic glance your way but said nothing. he seemed to sense the delicate balance of the conversation and watched as your mother continued.

“and i know it’s a big adjustment,” your mother continued, her voice gentle but insistent. “but you’ll find that once you get used to the idea, it'll all fall into place. taehyung is a wonderful man, and i’m sure you’ll both make a great life together.” each word felt like a pinprick against your already raw nerves. you could barely maintain your composure as she spoke, her words a relentless reminder of the life you were being forced into. the suffocating weight of her expectations and the impossible situation you were trapped in pushed you closer to the edge.

finally, the strain became too much. “i don’t wanna hear about taehyung anymore,” you blurted out, your voice trembling with emotion. “it’s more than enough that i’m being forced into a life i don’t want. i don’t need to be reminded of it every minute.” your mother’s eyes widened in shock, her fork halting mid-air. seokjin’s gaze shifted from your mother to you, his expression softening as he took in your distress. the silence that followed your outburst was thick and uncomfortable, the air charged with the weight of your raw emotion.

tears welled in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away, but they came anyway, spilling down your cheeks. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i just can’t do this anymore.” without waiting for a response, you stood up from the table, your chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound. you hurried out of the room, not daring to look back. the cold comfort of your room was a small relief, a place where you could be alone with your thoughts.

you shut the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. the tears came freely now, each sob a release of the pent-up frustration and despair that had been building inside you. the crushing weight of your situation, the unrelenting pressure from your mother, and the complexities of your relationship with seokjin all converged into a single, overwhelming storm of emotion. outside, the house was eerily quiet. his sympathetic gaze had not gone unnoticed, and you could only hope that his understanding extended beyond the surface. as you cried into the softness of your pillow, you felt a small pang of gratitude for his presence, even as you wished desperately for the strength to face the days ahead.

you lay on your bed, your face buried in the pillow as the tears continued to flow. the muffled sound of your sobs was the only noise in the room, and the heavy silence was a stark contrast to the chaos in your heart. the warmth of the tears against your cheeks and the soft, wet fabric of the pillowcase were the only things grounding you in that moment.

you didn't hear the soft creak of the door opening, nor the quiet footsteps that followed. seokjin entered the room with a silent grace, closing the door behind him with a careful click. the dim light from the hallway cast long shadows on the floor, barely illuminating his figure as he approached. sitting beside you on the bed, he placed a comforting hand on your leg. his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the earlier tensions. “you’re gonna ruin your makeup,” he said softly, attempting to lighten the mood. his voice was warm, but there was an undertone of genuine concern.

you managed a watery laugh, the sound escaping through your tears. you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, struggling to regain some semblance of composure. when you looked at him, his gaze was unwaveringly sympathetic. he gently brushed away the tears that had escaped your attempts to dry them, his touch tender and reassuring. his eyes softened as he studied your face. the image of the woman before him, so vulnerable and distressed, was a far cry from the spoiled, spoiled girl he had initially perceived. there was a depth to you now, a raw honesty in your pain that challenged his previous assumptions.

“you’ll find a way out of this,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “any guy would be lucky to have you.” you shook your head, a defeated gesture. “i don’t want to be taehyung’s fiancée anymore,” you confessed, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “i can’t stand this life.”

his expression hardened with resolve. “i know,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “i’ll find a way out of it for you. i promise.”

before you could respond, he leaned closer. his lips brushed against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. the initial touch was gentle, a mere whisper of contact, but it quickly grew more intense. as his lips pressed more firmly against yours, the kiss became heated, filled with a passion that had been bubbling beneath the surface.

his body hovered over yours, the warmth of his form radiating against your own. his hands cupped your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss. each movement was deliberate, his touch both commanding and tender. the kiss conveyed a mix of comfort and desire, an unspoken promise in every press of his lips against yours. the world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips and the comforting strength of his presence. the kiss was a blend of urgency and tenderness, a moment of escape from the oppressive reality that had been suffocating you. seokjin’s hands roamed gently, his touch setting your skin aflame even as it soothed the storm within.

as the kiss continued, you found yourself responding, your hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders. the heat of the moment enveloped you, the kiss becoming an intense exchange of feelings that neither of you could fully articulate. his grip on your face tightened slightly, his kisses growing more fervent as he lost himself in the shared passion. “any man would be lucky to have my stepsister, right?”

you gasped against his mouth, nodding, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue delved deeper, tasting you thoroughly. seokjin’s hands began to wander, tracing the contours of your body with a hungry touch. his palms slid over your breasts, kneading gently before he reached for the hem of your shirt. you didn’t resist, allowing him to lift it over your head, baring your chest to the cool air. his eyes raked over your exposed skin, a look of pure lust in his gaze.

his mouth left yours to blaze a trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. your body arched, a soft moan escaping as his teeth grazed your collarbone. your skin was on fire, every nerve ending alight with a need that only he could satisfy. as his kisses grew more insistent, his hands worked at the button and zipper of your skirt, pulling it down over your hips. his warm breath against your skin was intoxicating, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

his eyes locked with yours as he slid your underwear aside, revealing your wet, swollen pussy. without hesitation, he leaned down to bury his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at your folds with a hunger that surprised even him. you bucked against his mouth, the sensation overwhelming, your hands gripping the bedcovers tightly. his tongue flicked and probed, his expert touch driving you wild. “told you i needed a taste,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

his mouth closed around your clit, sucking gently as his fingers slid into your tight heat. your breath hitched, a whimper escaping as he began to fuck you with his digits, setting a rhythm that matched the strokes of his tongue. the room was filled with the sounds of your passion, your cries muffled by the pillow you’d buried your face in. he ate you out like a starving man, savoring every drop of your arousal, his own need growing with every passing second.

his words were dirty, a stream of vulgar praise that had you squirming with pleasure. “you’re so fucking perfect, baby. so sweet and tight for me. gotta fill you up, make you scream my name. tell me you want it, tell me you’re mine.” his voice was gruff, a stark contrast to the gentle laps of his tongue.

you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body taut with anticipation. you whispered a shaky “yes, seokjin, yes—promise i'm all yours,” urging him on, begging for release. his pace increased, his tongue circling your clit faster, his fingers pumping in and out of you with an unyielding rhythm. your thighs trembled, your entire body tightening as the orgasm built within you.

finally, with a muffled scream into the pillow, you came, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. seokjin didn’t stop, his mouth working tirelessly to extend your climax, his fingers still moving within you. when the last tremor had passed, he kissed your inner thighs before standing up, his eyes dark with desire.

his own clothing was quickly discarded, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his length nudging at your entrance. “are you ready for me? need your step-brother that bad?” he growled, his voice low and animalistic.

you nodded, your eyes wide with need. “yes, please, yes.” he didn’t wait for further invitation, thrusting into you in one swift motion. your walls clenched around him, trying to accommodate his size. a gasp of pain mixed with pleasure slipped from your lips, but you didn’t protest. this was what you needed, what you’d been craving.

his strokes were deep and hard, claiming you as his own. his hands held your hips in a firm grip, keeping you in place as he drove into you without mercy. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. he didn’t hold back, fucking you with an intensity that left you breathless.

his eyes never left yours, the connection between you two palpable as he fucked you with an unbridled passion. your pussy was soaking wet, welcoming his every thrust, and with each push into you, seokjin felt a sense of power and ownership that he hadn’t experienced before. you were his, and he was going to make sure you knew it.

his hips pistoned against yours, his cock plunging deep inside you. your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that would later remind him of this illicit encounter. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had you writhing beneath him. “you’re so tight, baby. just need you to be quiet for me, don't let your mom hear us.” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

his words only served to drive you higher, your breath coming in ragged gasps. your walls tightened around him, the friction building as he hit all the right spots. your body was his playground, and he was playing you like a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire. “you like that, don’t you? wonder what your mom would think, if she saw you like this—fucked out just for her step-brother's cock.” he taunted, his voice a mix of praise and degradation.

you couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind a whirlwind of sensation. all you could do was moan, your body a slave to the pleasure he was giving you. you felt yourself building up to another orgasm, the tension coiling in your belly like a tight spring. “yes, yes, yes,” you encouraged, your voice raw and desperate.

his rhythm grew erratic as he felt his own climax approaching. his grip on your hips tightened, his strokes becoming more frenzied. “i’m gonna cum inside you, baby. i’m gonna fill you up with my cum, mark you as mine.” his words were a declaration of ownership, a claiming that sent a thrill through your core.

you felt yourself tumbling over the edge once more, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. as it crested, you felt him tense above you, his cock pulsing as he released his seed deep within you. the warmth of his cum filled you, mixing with your own juices, creating a deliciously obscene mess. his breathing was harsh, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his release. he leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue invading your mouth as he continued to pump his hips, milking every last drop of pleasure from you. when he finally pulled out, he collapsed beside you, both of you panting and slick with sweat.

the room was filled with the scent of your shared passion, the air thick with the intimacy of your connection. he turned towards you, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if sealing a promise. “you'll find a way out of it,” he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. “and you'll always have me by your side.”

you looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. his words were a lifeline in the storm of your emotions, a promise of unwavering support and love. the weight of the world seemed a little lighter with him there, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. his eyes were filled with an earnest sincerity that made your heart ache. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone in this. as you nestled into his chest, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“i can't be taehyung's fiancée anymore,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he tightened his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple. “i know,” he replied gently. “i promise you won't be.”

his reassurance was a soothing balm to your battered spirit. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in his arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace. the future was still uncertain, but with seokjin by your side, you felt ready to face whatever came your way. the bond between you, forged in the fires of your shared struggles, was unbreakable. and as you lay there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what happened, you would always have each other.

✧.*

a/n: should i end it here or make a part 2 lmk

teach me (가르쳐줘) — kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

in a world where wealth often dictated worth, knowledge was your key to navigating the labyrinth of societal expectations and ambitions. your university was a microcosm of this world—an elite institution where the corridors were lined with the whispers of inherited fortunes and the echoes of legacies. the ornate hallways, adorned with grand portraits of alumni who now ruled industries and nations, seemed to breathe with an air of superiority, as if money alone had the power to shape destinies.

yet, amidst the polished marble floors and crystal chandeliers, you knew that the true power lay in knowledge. money could buy access, but it couldn’t purchase wisdom or the relentless drive to understand the world in its myriad complexities. that belief was your anchor, keeping you grounded as you moved through the shadows of privilege and pretense.

the midterms were a pivotal moment, the culmination of weeks of preparation and anticipation. the classroom buzzed with a mix of anxiety and determination, students fidgeting in their seats as they awaited the start of the exam. the professor, a stern figure whose reputation for rigor was well known, stood at the front of the room, surveying the gathered students with a critical eye.

“ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice slicing through the murmur of conversations, “today’s midterm will account for sixty percent of your final grade. this is your opportunity to demonstrate not just your understanding of the material, but your ability to apply it under pressure. i expect nothing but your best effort.”

he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “the rules are simple: no talking, no electronic devices, and no looking at your neighbor's paper. any violation will result in an immediate failure. you have two hours to complete the exam. good luck.” with that, he began to pass around the sheets of paper, the crisp sound of pages being distributed echoing through the room. you took a deep breath, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach. it was your domain, your battlefield. the stacks of notes, late-night study sessions, and countless hours spent in the library had all led to this moment.

as you glanced to your right, you saw your friend. jimin gave you a knowing smile and a thumbs up, his confidence in you a silent reassurance. you returned the gesture, grateful for his unwavering support. he had always been a source of encouragement, his cheerful demeanor and kind heart a comforting presence amidst the cutthroat competition. you had spent most of your life being his friend, you had grown up together.

to your other side, however, sat kim taehyung. his posture exuded an effortless arrogance, a king holding court among his loyal subjects. he laughed with his friends, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the situation. you recognized a few of them—jungkook, with his athletic build and easy charm, and hoseok, whose bright smile belied a sharp intellect. the rest were a blur of designer clothes and privileged backgrounds. you couldn’t help but scoff quietly, turning your attention back to the exam in front of you. taehyung’s nonchalance was infuriating, a stark contrast to the dedication you poured into your studies. but today, you would show that hard work and intellect trumped arrogance and entitlement.

the first question stared back at you from the paper, a complex equation that required not just rote memorization but a deep understanding of the underlying principles. you picked up your pen, the familiar weight a comforting anchor, and began to write. the numbers and symbols flowed from your mind to the page with practiced ease. you broke down the equation methodically, each step a testament to your meticulous preparation. the anxiety that had gripped you earlier faded, replaced by a focused calm. it was your element, where your true strength shone.

question after question, you navigated through the intricacies of calculus, the nuances of economic theory, and the subtleties of advanced physics. each problem was a puzzle, and you relished the challenge of piecing together the solutions. your pen moved swiftly, leaving behind a trail of precise calculations and thoughtful analysis.

as the minutes ticked by, you occasionally glanced around the room. jimin was hunched over his paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling. his earlier bravado had evaporated, replaced by a look of frustration as he scribbled haphazardly, his confidence cracking under the pressure. you allowed yourself a brief moment of satisfaction before refocusing on your own work. it was your time to shine, and nothing would distract you from achieving your goal.

the final question was a long-form essay, asking you to analyze a complex scenario and propose a comprehensive solution. you paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before diving in. your fingers flew across the paper, articulating your ideas with clarity and precision. you drew upon everything you had learned, weaving together concepts and theories into a cohesive argument.

the room was silent except for the sound of pens scratching against paper and the occasional rustle of pages. time seemed to stretch and compress, a fluid continuum that you were both acutely aware of and blissfully oblivious to. you lost yourself in the flow of knowledge, each answer a piece of your intellectual tapestry.

when the professor finally called for the papers to be handed in, you leaned back in your chair, a sense of accomplishment washing over you. you had given it your all, leaving nothing to chance. as you gathered your belongings, you caught jimin’s eye once more. he smiled, and you knew he shared in your sense of triumph. taehyung, however, looked defeated. the swagger was gone, replaced by a quiet resignation. his friends patted him on the back, offering empty reassurances, but you could see the doubt in his eyes. for the first time, the golden boy of the university had encountered a challenge he couldn’t charm his way through.

the hallways were still bustling with the residual energy of the midterms as you made your way to your locker. students exchanged their thoughts on the exam, some expressing relief, others despair. the echo of footsteps and the dull hum of conversations filled the space, but your mind was serene, buoyed by the confidence of a job well done.

jimin was right beside you, his ever-present smile a beacon of positivity. “so, how do you think you did?” he asked, though his eyes twinkled with the certainty that you had aced it. you smiled back at him, the sense of accomplishment still fresh. “i think I did well. i felt pretty confident about most of the questions. how about you?”

he nodded, his smile widening. “it’s my realm of knowledge too, remember? i think i did pretty well.” before your conversation could continue, you both turned to see jieun walking towards you. her eyes were fixed on jimin, a mixture of affection and relief in her gaze. she was infatuated with him, a fact that was evident in every glance and touch. yet, beneath that infatuation was a simmering dislike for you. as jimin’s best friend, you were a constant presence in his life, and jieun was a firm believer that boys and girls couldn’t be just friends. but it was hard to hold her animosity against her. jieun’s jealousy was expressed in the cutest, most endearing ways, making it impossible to truly dislike her. she was adorable in her insecurities, her emotions laid bare for anyone to see.

“hey, how'd it go?” she asked jimin, her tone a mix of concern and expectation as she wrapped her arms around his. “it went well,” jimin replied, his voice softening as he looked at her. “i think i did pretty good.”

her face lit up, her eyes sparkling with pride. “i knew you would! you’re the best.” their dialogue was playful, filled with the kind of light-hearted banter that only couples share. she clung to his arm, her possessiveness almost comical in its intensity. you watched them, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“so, are we walking home together?” jimin asked, turning his attention back to you. his question was innocent enough, but it was enough to make jieun frown, her jealousy flaring up again. “you can't walk home alone with her,” she protested, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. it was adorable, her attempts to hide her jealousy only making it more obvious.

you chuckled softly, meeting her gaze with understanding. “i’d like it only if jieun comes along,” you said, your tone gentle and reassuring. her face lit up for a second, a flash of surprise and happiness crossing her features before she tried to mask it. “i’m only coming because of jimin,” she insisted, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her eyes.

the three of you made your way out of the building, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus. the air was crisp and cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the path. jimin and jieun walked ahead, their playful banter continuing as she clung to his arm. they were a perfect picture of young love, their affection for each other palpable. you walked a few steps behind, content to observe their interactions. despite her jealousy, you knew her feelings came from a place of deep love for jimin. and jimin, for all his easygoing nature, was equally devoted to her, his every gesture filled with tenderness.

the late afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden hue as you, the three of you had quickly approached your home. the warmth of the sun was a welcome contrast to the cold, tense atmosphere of the exam room. your house loomed ahead, a comforting presence amidst the day's whirlwind of activity.

as you reached the front steps, jieun turned to you, her expression a mix of curiosity and cautious intrigue. “you know,” she began, her voice tinged with a hint of challenge, “i’ve heard people asking about your background. have you ever thought about answering those questions?” jimin shot her a warning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly in a silent plea for her to tread lightly. you caught the look but knew there was no malice behind her question, only a genuine interest that bordered on prying.

you paused for a moment, reflecting on the many questions that had been thrown your way over the past months. the whispers about how someone like you had gained entry into such a prestigious school had been relentless. the curiosity had always seemed to stem from a place of disbelief, as if your presence there was an anomaly that needed to be explained. you remembered how jimin had advised you to avoid discussing your background, especially since the truth—that you had earned your place purely through your academic achievements rather than wealth—could spark envy and hostility among your peers.

“i’m not really sure,” you finally answered, your tone thoughtful. “if the truth ever comes out, i guess i’ll just have to deal with it.” she nodded, her gaze softening as she took in your words. despite her evident discomfort with your close friendship with jimin, she had always respected your privacy and had never shared anything about your background with others. her understanding of your situation, despite the unspoken tension, was something you silently appreciated.

jimin placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “don’t worry about it,” he said with a comforting smile. “just focus on doing your best, and everything will work out.” you smiled back at him, grateful for his support. “thanks, jimin. i’ll see you later.”

jieun pouted, a playful yet slightly exasperated look on her face. “no, you won't,” she said, though there was no real bitterness in her voice. before you could respond, she took jimin’s arm and tugged him gently away. the two of them walked off together, their steps in sync as they shared a quiet, intimate conversation. the sight of them walking away, their connection evident in every gesture, left you with a warm feeling of contentment.

as you stepped through the door of your modest home, the familiar scent of worn wood and lingering fabric softener greeted you. the house was small, a humble abode that spoke of years of wear and a life lived within its confines. the walls were a faded, pastel yellow, their color dulled by time and the constant scuffing of shoes and furniture. the linoleum floor, scuffed and stained, added a touch of imperfection to the otherwise simple decor.

your mother was sprawled on the floor, her head resting against the small, weathered bucket of soapy water. her hand was still immersed in the suds, clutching a piece of fabric that she had been scrubbing with tired diligence. the sight of her dozing off in the middle of her chores tugged at your heart. gently, you knelt beside her, brushing a strand of graying hair from her face. “mom,” you whispered, your voice tender yet firm. “wake up. you need to take a nap. i’ll finish this for you.”

she stirred slowly, blinking awake to find you kneeling beside her. a sleepy, grateful smile spread across her face as she sat up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and love. “oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “thank you. you don’t have to.”

you helped her to her feet, guiding her gently towards the small, worn-out couch that occupied one corner of the room. it was a modest piece of furniture, its cushions flattened and its fabric faded from years of use. “just get some rest,” you urged, your tone soft but insistent. “i’ll take care of the rest.”

she nodded, her eyes shining with gratitude. before she settled down, she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, her touch warm and reassuring. “how did the exam go?” she asked, her voice laced with concern and curiosity. you couldn’t help but smile, a wave of relief washing over you as you recounted the details. “it went well. i’m confident i passed.”

her eyes lit up with pride and relief. “i’m so glad to hear that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “you’ve brought honor to the family. with your grades, i’m sure you’ll make something of yourself and find a great job.” you felt a lump form in your throat at her words. her unwavering faith in you was both comforting and humbling. “i promise, mom,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “the first thing i’ll do is pay off the hospital bills.”

her face softened, and she reached out to clasp your hand. the debt from the hospital had been a heavy burden on your family, a constant reminder of your father’s passing and the financial strain it had left behind. the bills, mounting and relentless, were a stark reminder of the medical costs that had drained your family's savings and plunged them into debt. your father’s illness had been a long and painful journey. he had spent months in the hospital, his condition deteriorating despite the best efforts of the doctors. each visit to the hospital brought a new set of bills—emergency room fees, surgical costs, daily hospital charges—that piled up with an unrelenting ferocity. his death had left your mother grappling not only with grief but also with the crushing weight of financial instability.

the hospital bills were a reminder of the dreams that had slipped through your fingers, replaced by the harsh reality of debt and loss. your mother had done her best to keep the household running, working tirelessly to make ends meet while trying to keep the financial strain hidden from you. now, as you promised to alleviate that burden, you could see the relief in her eyes. “i know you will,” she said softly. “you’ve always been so determined and strong.”

you embraced her, holding her close as you both shared a quiet moment of understanding. The weight of responsibility, the pressures of academic success, and the promise of a better future all seemed to coalesce in that one tender hug.

with a final squeeze, you pulled away and headed towards the door, your part-time job waiting for you. it was a job that helped pay the bills and put food on the table, a small but significant contribution to the family’s well-being. as you stepped out into the crisp evening air, you took a deep breath, the coolness invigorating you. the streets were quieting down, the hustle of the day giving way to the tranquility of the night. you walked briskly towards your scooter, the one reliable means of transport for your job. the scooter had seen better days, its paint chipped and its engine wheezing with each start, but it was yours, and it served its purpose faithfully.

you mounted the scooter and revved the engine, feeling the familiar hum beneath you. the streets opened up as you navigated through the city, each delivery a step towards your goal. as you worked, the weight of your promise and the hope for a brighter future kept you motivated. each delivery was a reminder of the resilience and determination that defined you, and with every mile, you felt a step closer to fulfilling your dreams and easing your mother’s burdens.

the evening air grew cooler as you continued your shift, the rhythmic clatter of plates and the soft hum of conversation filling the air. the restaurant, a modest establishment with its own unique charm, was busy enough to keep you on your toes. you moved from table to table, wiping down surfaces and ensuring that each customer was satisfied with their meal. the work, though exhausting, was a necessary part of keeping your family afloat, and you approached it with the same dedication you applied to your studies.

as you polished the last table, your boss called you over, his voice cutting through the din of the restaurant. “i need you to make a delivery,” he said, handing you a paper with an address and an order. “it’s an auto workshop. they’ve got a few burgers and fries waiting. here’s the address.” you took the slip of paper, noting the address and the order. the workshop’s location was a bit out of the way, but you nodded and took the bag of food. it was a familiar routine, but today had a different edge to it, a faint sense of anticipation and unease.

mounting your scooter, you adjusted your helmet and revved the engine. the city lights flashed by as you sped through the streets, weaving between cars and pedestrians with practiced ease. the workshop wasn’t far, but the journey seemed to stretch longer with every passing minute. your mind wandered back to the upcoming challenges and the promise you’d made to your mother, fueling your determination.

arriving at the auto workshop, you parked the scooter and approached the entrance. the workshop was a large, industrial space filled with the clinking of tools and the scent of motor oil. the floor was stained with grease and the walls adorned with faded posters of car parts and maintenance tips. you called out the name on the order, your voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. “delivery for min yoongi.”

it wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice reply that your heart skipped a beat. min yoongi. the name was unmistakable, and the man who emerged from the back of the workshop was someone you had seen around school. his presence was accompanied by a sense of authority, and his clique, always in tow, exuded an air of indifference that you had noticed from afar.

as he stepped into view, his gaze locked onto you, and a smirk slowly spread across his face. the sight of him, in the midst of his domain, only heightened the sense of unease that had settled in your stomach. you stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in.

“what’s a private university student like you doing delivering burgers?” yoongi’s voice was laced with a mix of curiosity and condescension. his smirk widened, making you feel even more out of place. you ignored his question and held out the bag of food, your tone steady as you stated, “here’s your order. the total is thirty dollars.”

his smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. he took out the money, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bag as he handed it over. “let’s hope you’re not part of the school’s social care,” he remarked, his tone dripping with mockery. “that’d be bad for both of us.” his comment stung, a thinly veiled threat masked as casual conversation. you could sense the underlying tension in his words, a warning that there was more to his presence here than just a casual delivery.

without responding, you took the money and turned to leave, the unease in your chest growing with each step. you mounted your scooter once more, the engine rumbling to life as you prepared to head back to the restaurant. yoongi’s parting words lingered in your mind, a reminder that the social dynamics at school were more complicated than you had anticipated.

the hours at work seemed to stretch on interminably, each minute marked by the steady rhythm of your duties. you cleaned tables, took orders, and delivered food with the practiced efficiency that came from months of experience. the work was grueling but necessary, a means to an end that kept your family afloat. as your shift finally drew to a close, you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

returning home, the small house welcomed you with its usual sense of comfort and familiarity. the night had settled into a quiet calm, and you found your mother fast asleep on the couch, the soft light of the lamp casting a gentle glow over her face. the sight of her peaceful rest made you smile. you carefully covered her with a light blanket, ensuring she was warm and comfortable before retreating to your own room. pushing yoongi’s unsettling words to the back of your mind, you sank into your bed and pulled the covers over you. aleep came quickly, a welcome escape from the day’s stresses.

morning arrived with the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains. you stirred, stretching and yawning as you greeted the new day. a quick kiss on your mother’s forehead served as both a farewell and a gesture of gratitude. “have a good day, mom,” you whispered before heading out the door.

the walk to school was uneventful, the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps on the sidewalk providing a steady cadence. however, as you approached the school, a strange atmosphere greeted you. the usual buzz of students was replaced by an uneasy silence, punctuated by hushed whispers and furtive glances. your heart raced, an uneasy thought crossing your mind—could yoongi have said something? the idea lingered for a moment, only to be overshadowed by the sight of jieun running towards you, her face alight with excitement.

“hey! did you see the bulletin board?” she called out, her voice brimming with energy. you followed her, your curiosity piqued. pushing through the crowd of students that had gathered around the bulletin board, you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety bubble within you. jieun guided you to the front, and as you finally reached the board, you were met with a sea of names and scores.

your eyes scanned the list quickly, and then, as if by instinct, they were drawn to your own name. there it was—first place. you gasped, the reality of your achievement sinking in. before you could fully process the news, jimin appeared beside you, his hand coming down with a hearty slap on your back. “congrats! i knew you’d do it!” you laughed, the joy of your accomplishment mingling with the relief of seeing your hard work recognized. jieun was quick to join in the celebration, her cheerfulness contagious as she congratulated jimin, who had secured second place.

turning your attention back to the board, your eyes couldn’t help but find the name of the one who had caught your attention earlier—taehyung. his name was prominently displayed at the bottom of the list. the shock of seeing him in last place among one hundred students was palpable. the whispers around you seemed to intensify as people took in the surprising result.

as you glanced over towards him, you saw him surrounded by his friends, their laughter ringing out with a mix of disbelief and amusement. jieun’s own laughter seemed to merge with theirs, her reaction a stark contrast to your own. the scene unfolded like a tableau of contrasting emotions, with the weight of the academic competition creating an unexpected drama.

behind taehyung, your gaze met yoongi’s, his smirk unmistakable. he stood a little apart from the group, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. the sight of him sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the tension that had lingered from your encounter at the workshop. you quickly looked away, unwilling to let him occupy any more of your thoughts.

the morning continued with an air of restless energy, each classroom you passed seeming to hum with the aftermath of the midterm results. you navigated the hallways with a sense of purpose, your focus fixed on reaching your next class. the excitement of your accomplishment had yet to fully settle, overshadowed by the buzz of gossip and the unsettling encounter with yoongi.

as you rounded a corner, preparing to merge into the flow of students heading towards your classroom, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than min yoongi. he stood directly in your path, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, as if he had been waiting just for this moment.

his smirk was immediately apparent, a self-satisfied curve of his lips that seemed to carry both amusement and challenge. “congratulations, delivery girl,” he said, his voice dripping with a casual mockery that sent a chill down your spine. you tensed, the unwelcome familiarity of his presence causing your heart to race. the public setting, combined with his smirk and condescending tone, made the interaction feel all the more uncomfortable. you had hoped to avoid any further confrontations, especially in the midst of the day’s academic frenzy.

without a word, you attempted to sidestep him, hoping to continue on your way without escalating the situation. however, his presence seemed to block your path as if he was determined to make this encounter linger. “thought you’d enjoy a little recognition,” he continued, his tone suggesting that he found some perverse pleasure in this interaction. “didn’t expect the top scorer to be working part-time as a delivery girl. quite the contrast, don’t you think?”

his words were a pointed reminder of the social divide that separated you from the elite circles he moved in. the insinuation that your hard-earned success was somehow diminished by your job was clear, and it stung. you took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “thank you, yoongi,” you managed to reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “i’ve got to get to class now.”

turning on your heel, you walked away with a purposeful stride, your heart pounding as you moved past him. the hallways seemed to stretch endlessly, the echoes of students' voices blending into a cacophony of sounds that barely registered as you focused on putting distance between yourself and him. each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of his words and the sting of his mocking tone. the confrontation had left you unsettled, but you refused to let it deter you. your goal remained clear—excel in your studies, support your family, and rise above the social constraints that sought to define you.

the day had passed in a blur of lectures and fleeting moments of camaraderie with classmates. as the final bell rang, signaling the end of your classes, you made your way to your second job at the coffee shop, a cozy nook tucked away in a bustling part of town. the transition from academic focus to the steady rhythm of coffee brewing was familiar, a comforting routine that helped ground you.

the shop was a warm haven, filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground beans and the soft murmur of conversation. as you slipped behind the counter, you spotted jieun and jimin already seated at their usual corner table. they looked up with welcoming smiles as you approached, ready to take their orders.

you went through the motions of preparing their drinks—jieun’s caramel macchiato and jimin’s classic espresso—with practiced ease. as you worked, the lingering sting of yoongi’s earlier comments occupied your thoughts. his condescending tone had echoed in your mind, a reminder of the social divide that you had been trying so hard to ignore.

jieun’s voice cut through your reverie as she scoffed, her expression darkening. “that yoongi is such an asshole. what does he know about you, anyway?” you tried to brush off her concern, but her words struck a chord. you finished up their drinks and handed them over, forcing a smile. “it’s nothing. he doesn’t have anything concrete against me. i can handle it.”

jimin nodded in agreement. “yeah, just don’t let him get to you. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. besides, he doesn’t know the full story.” you nodded appreciatively, feeling a bit of reassurance from their support. with a brief exchange of pleasantries, you returned to your tasks, the steady hum of the coffee shop filling the background as you immersed yourself in the rhythm of the job.

meanwhile, in a world far removed from the warmth of the coffee shop, taehyung was enveloped in a cold, imposing atmosphere. his family’s manor was a testament to opulence, its grandiose architecture and expansive rooms a stark contrast to the modesty of your own home. the study where taehyung found himself was no exception—a vast room adorned with dark wood paneling, ornate furnishings, and a large mahogany desk that dominated the space.

his father, seated behind the desk, wore an expression of barely concealed frustration. his mother, standing beside him, placed a comforting hand on taehyung’s shoulder, her eyes filled with concern. his older brother stood across from him, arms folded, a look of disapproval etched on his face. the tension in the room was palpable as taehyung’s father began to scold him. “you’ve disgraced the family name with this abysmal grade. how could you allow yourself to fall to last place?”

his face reddened with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, father. i was distracted—there were personal issues,” his older brother cut in sharply, “distracted? you’ve been distracted for the past twenty years of your life. this isn’t just about one exam.”

his mother interjected, her voice soothing but firm. “that’s enough. we need to find a solution.” taehyung’s father nodded, the decision clearly made. “very well. it’s time to bring in a professional. we’ll hire a tutor.”

the mention of a tutor seemed to deflate taehyung even further, but he knew better than to argue. “who was first place?” his father asked, turning to his wife. he struggled to recall the name. after a moment of tense silence, he managed to remember. “some girl, (y/n) (l/n).”

his father’s eyes narrowed in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “a nobody managed to outdo the entire school, and you let that happen?” he chuckled derisively, shaking his head. “very well. a tutor it is. we’ll see if this (y/n) is really as impressive as the results suggest.” the conversation was clearly over, and taehyung felt a wave of frustration.

he needed to speak with his brother, if only to express his own feelings. he rushed after him as he stepped out, hoping for a moment of understanding or support. however, his brother’s response was anything but comforting. “don’t touch me,” he snapped, “i’m busy running a company, and you’re acting like a child. it’s pathetic.” with those harsh words, his brother turned and left, leaving taehyung standing alone in the corridor, his heart heavy with the weight of his family’s expectations and his own sense of inadequacy. the sense of isolation was nearly overwhelming, and as he turned back towards the study, the realization that his problems were far from over settled heavily upon him.

the day had been long and tiresome, but the knowledge that you were about to share some good news with your mother made every ache in your muscles feel worth it. as you finally clocked out from your shift, the streetlights flickering to life around you, a sense of anticipation accompanied you on your walk home. the cool evening air felt refreshing against your skin, and you allowed yourself a moment to smile, thinking of the joy you were about to bring.

arriving home, you noticed the house was quiet, the kind of stillness that suggested your mother was resting. you eased the front door open and slipped inside, your heart racing with excitement. you called out softly to your mother, but she didn’t respond. walking into the small, dimly lit living room, you found her sprawled on a worn-out rug, her body relaxed in a rare moment of rest. beside her lay the small bucket she used for washing clothes—a testament to the long days she spent keeping up with the household chores.

gently, you shook her shoulder. “mom, wake up. i have something to tell you.” she stirred and blinked up at you, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “did you finish work?” you nodded, trying to suppress your excitement. “yes, and i have great news. i passed the exam with flying colors.”

her eyes widened slightly, and she sat up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “i already knew. one of the other parents called earlier today.” confusion clouded your features. “one of the other parents? who?”

she took a deep breath before answering, her tone tinged with a mix of pride and concern. “it was kim taehyung’s family. they’re requesting you as an immediate tutor for their son.” the news hit you like a sudden chill. taehyung’s name echoed in your mind, mingling with the unsettling memory of yoongi’s smirk. you felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of anxiety and disbelief. “not a chance. i don’t think i’m the right fit for that.”

her eyes softened with understanding but held a firm resolve. “i know it might seem daunting, but think about it. the pay is excellent, and it’s an opportunity to showcase your skills. it could be a big step forward for you.”

you hesitated, the weight of your mother’s words clashing with your own apprehensions. as you stood there, the grim reality of your family’s financial situation loomed large. the hospital bills, the constant struggle to keep up with expenses—it all came flooding back. the thought of turning down a lucrative opportunity, despite your reservations, was untenable. swallowing hard, you sighed and finally gave in. “alright, i’ll do it. i understand why it’s important.”

a smile of relief and pride brightened her face. “good. i already promised them you’d take the job. they’re expecting you to start as soon as tomorrow.”

you looked at her, a mixture of astonishment and determination crossing your face. “you promised?” she nodded, her gaze steady and reassuring. “i did. i knew you’d make the right decision. this is your chance to show everyone what you’re capable of.”

you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the unease settling in your chest. “alright, i’ll do my best.” your mother reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “i know you will. i’m so proud of you, no matter what.”

you gave her a quick hug, the comfort of her embrace a small solace against the wave of new responsibilities that loomed ahead. as you prepared for bed, your mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming tutoring job and the challenges it might bring. the prospect of working closely with someone like taehyung, coupled with the potential scrutiny from his circle, was daunting. yet, as you settled into your bed, the promise of better days and the chance to make a meaningful difference kept you hopeful. the night was quiet, the stillness only interrupted by the occasional creak of the old house settling into its nighttime routine. as you drifted off to sleep, the anticipation of what lay ahead mingled with the remnants of exhaustion from a long day, leaving you with a bittersweet sense of resolve.

the path to the manor was both exhilarating and daunting. the ornate iron gates, flanked by towering stone columns, seemed to mark the boundary between your humble life and the opulence that lay beyond. the directions you had received were simple enough, yet they did nothing to prepare you for the grandeur of the estate that greeted you.

as you approached the manor, your eyes widened in awe. the estate was a sprawling, neo-classical structure with ivy-clad walls, arched windows, and an intricate array of columns and sculptures that spoke of a bygone era of grandeur. the meticulously manicured lawns stretched out like a lush green carpet, bordered by pristine flower beds and elegant fountains. your heart fluttered with a mix of nervousness and wonder.

you walked up the grand stone steps and knocked on the imposing wooden door, its surface adorned with elaborate carvings. a moment later, the door creaked open, and a woman with an air of effortless grace greeted you. her attire was refined yet warm, and her smile was genuine as she introduced herself as the chairman’s wife.

“welcome! i’m mrs. kim. you must be the student who scored first place,” she said, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and admiration. you offered a polite smile and introduced yourself, “yes, i’m (y/n). it’s nice to meet you.” her face lit up with a beaming smile. “we’re delighted to have you here. please, come in.”

as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by the sheer scale and elegance of the interior. the foyer was vast, its high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that bathed the room in a warm, golden glow. the walls were lined with tasteful artwork and intricate tapestries, and the floors gleamed with polished marble. she led you up a grand staircase, its polished wooden railing glistening under the light of the chandeliers. the journey up felt like a passage into a different world, a world you had only seen in magazines and dreams. you followed her through a long corridor, each step echoing softly against the walls.

when she reached taehyung’s room, she paused at the door and knocked lightly before opening it. the sight that met your eyes caused your cheeks to flush with surprise. taehyung, shirtless, was lounging on a luxurious couch, his toned physique partially obscured by a half-open shirt draped over the back of the couch. her eyes widened, and she gasped in surprise. “oh, taehyung! i didn’t realize, sorry.”

taehyung, seemingly unbothered, pulled the shirt over his head with a nonchalant grace, his gaze shifting to you with a hint of curiosity. you quickly averted your eyes, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “i’ll leave you two to it,” she said, her tone a mix of embarrassment and encouragement. “good luck.”

as the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath and turned back to taehyung. he had finally put on a shirt, and you allowed yourself to relax slightly.

“you know, it must be your first time seeing a guy shirtless,” he said with a scoff, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. you rolled your eyes and dismissed his comment with a wave of your hand. “just take out your textbooks. we have work to do.”

he complied, sitting at a large, ornate desk cluttered with papers and textbooks. you took out a piece of paper and set it in front of him. “let’s start by figuring out what you’re struggling with. what seems to be the problem?” he hesitated, his gaze wandering. after a moment, he sighed and said, “everything.” you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at his blunt honesty. “alright, we’ll start with algebra then.”

you began to explain the basics, your voice steady and patient. as you spoke, you noticed his eyes lingering on you, his attention wavering between the lesson and you. it was clear he was struggling to focus, and you found it both amusing and a bit unsettling. he was clearly distracted, and you wondered if it was your presence or something else that was keeping him from fully engaging with the material.

when you asked if he understood, he snapped back to reality, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. “what are you doing in such a prestigious school if you have nothing to offer?” his question caught you off guard. you hesitated, your mind racing through the multitude of reasons you had never openly shared. finally, you decided to be honest. “i got in because of my grades. i work part-time to help my mom. we’re in debt because of my father’s passing, and i wanted to make a better life for us.”

the room fell silent for a moment, and taehyung looked genuinely taken aback. his usual aloof demeanor seemed to soften. “i’m sorry to hear that. i didn’t realize.” you were surprised by his reaction. “thank you. i appreciate it.”

he nodded, his gaze shifting back to you with a newfound respect. “i promise I won’t tell anyone. let’s focus on your teaching. i need all the help i can get.” you smiled, relieved and grateful for his understanding. you continued with the lesson, writing down an equation and handing him a pencil. the brief touch of skin as he took the pencil from you made his heart flutter slightly. you encouraged him to solve the problem, watching as he hesitated but eventually made an attempt.

when he finished, you reviewed his work and told him he had solved it correctly. “you’re smarter than you think. you just need to put your mind to it.” a genuine smile spread across taehyung’s face, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely encouraged. “thank you. i haven’t heard that in a while.”

the days of tutoring taehyung continued, each session bringing its own set of challenges and small victories. you had settled into a routine that balanced your part-time job and your responsibilities as a tutor. taehyung, once aloof and distracted, had shown significant improvement. he was attentive during your lessons, engaging with the material, and his grades were steadily rising. the initial awkwardness between you had faded, replaced by a more comfortable, albeit professional, rapport.

on a crisp afternoon, you were working your shift at the coffee shop, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air. you moved from table to table, serving drinks and chatting with regular customers, the rhythmic hum of the café providing a comforting backdrop to your busy day.

as you bustled around, your attention was drawn to a familiar face that had just entered. it was taehyung, looking relaxed in casual attire—jeans and a well-fitted shirt. he scanned the café, his eyes landing on you with a grin that made your heart skip a beat. he approached the counter, and you greeted him with a smile. “hi, taehyung. what can i get for you today?”

he glanced at the menu and made his choice with a casual, “i’ll have a cappuccino, please. and, uh, could i get some help with a problem?” you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “what kind of problem?”

with a playful smirk, he pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen, then showed it to you. “it’s a number i can’t figure out. your number, actually.” you laughed, the sound light and amused. “what could you possibly need it for?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “you never know. might need it for homework.” you shook your head, still smiling as you took down his phone number. you hesitated for a moment before typing your own number into his phone, making sure to set clear boundaries. “only text me for emergencies. got it?”

he nodded, his smile widening. “got it. i’ll make sure to use it wisely.” as you prepared his drink, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. he watched you with an easygoing smile, seeming to enjoy the brief interaction. there was something undeniably pleasant about the way he looked at you, and it made you wonder about the nature of his interest.

you were busy wiping down the counter when the bell above the café door chimed, announcing a new arrival. you looked up and your heart sank as you saw yoongi walking in. his expression shifted from surprise to a knowing smirk upon seeing you. the brief moment of recognition made you tense, but you masked your unease with professional composure.

yoongi approached the counter, and you could feel yaehyung’s gaze following the interaction. “well, if it isn’t the delivery girl turned bartender,” he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “is there anything you can’t do?”

you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the provocation. “what can i get for you?” you asked, keeping your voice steady. he ordered a coffee with a hint of casual curiosity in his tone. “and maybe an explanation while you’re at it.”

your brow furrowed in confusion. “i’m not sure what you’re referring to.” yoongi’s expression darkened slightly. “don’t play dumb. i’d suggest you explain yourself soon, or you might find the whole school talking about why you’re working part-time.”

before you could respond, taehyung stood up from his table, his eyes locked on yoongi with an intense glare. he walked over with a purposeful stride, clearly agitated. “take your coffee and leave,” he commanded, his voice sharp. yoongi didn’t flinch. instead, he gave a mocking smile. “oh, don’t be so brazen. you almost scared me.”

taehyung moved closer, his irritation palpable. “i said, leave.” yoongi’s gaze shifted between the two of you, amusement evident in his smirk. “i wonder which would be more shocking—the prestigious student working part-time, or the younger kim son dating said student?”

your heart raced at the insinuation, and you quickly interjected, “we’re not dating.” yoongi’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “really? so i can have your number, then?”

you hesitated, feeling the weight of your situation. taehyung looked as if he wanted to protest, but when he met your eyes and saw the determination there, he fell silent. with a resigned sigh, you gave yoongi your number, knowing the importance of keeping things under control. his smirk widened as he took your phone, typing in the number. he handed it back to you along with the money for his coffee. “keep the change,” he said with a hint of mockery. “you probably need it more than i do.”

with that, he turned on his heel and walked out, his exit leaving a palpable tension in the air. taehyung’s eyes narrowed in frustration as he watched yoongi leave. once the door closed behind him, he turned to you, his voice laced with anger. “why did you give him your number?”

you met his gaze, feeling a pang of sadness mixed with resolve. “i can’t afford to be a laughingstock. you wouldn’t understand. you’re from a different world where these things don’t matter.” taehyung looked taken aback by your words, his face reflecting a mixture of surprise and hurt. he stood silently as you turned back to your work, the weight of the conversation hanging heavily between you.

the following morning, you walked to school with a sense of weariness settling over you. the events of the previous day replayed in your mindyoongi’s taunting remarks and taehyung’s confusion. you were lost in thought when a sleek black car came to a halt beside you, the window slowly descending.

taehyung’s familiar face appeared, framed by the open window, his smile bright and inviting. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone cheerful. “need a ride?” you blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected offer. “what are you doing?” you asked, casting a wary glance at the car.

“get in,” he said, motioning towards the vehicle. “i’ll give you a lift to school.” a twinge of anxiety made you hesitate. “no, thank you. your family could see us.”

taehyung’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of mischief and reassurance. “that’s why you should get in quickly.” defeated by his insistence, you reluctantly slid into the back seat, the leather upholstery cool against your skin. his gaze was fixed on you as he settled beside you. he leaned in slightly, his voice soft and curious. “did you sleep well?”

you brushed off his concern with a shrug. “why are you doing this? you don’t have to.” he feigned innocence, his expression playful. “doing what?”

“giving me a ride,” you clarified, a note of exasperation in your voice. “why?” before he could respond, you told the driver to stop as you neared the school. however, taehyung quickly intervened. “no, go straight to campus,” he instructed firmly.

you stared at him, a mix of frustration and disbelief on your face. “are you out of your mind? i don’t want to draw attention.” with a dramatic gasp, he pointed behind you. “look!”

confused and curious, you turned your head to see what had caught his attention. as you glanced back, taehyung took the opportunity to lean in closer, his head resting lightly on your shoulder. the warmth of his breath on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. when you looked back at him, your eyes widened in shock. his satisfied smile was the only hint of his triumph. the closeness between you was unexpected, and his casual display of affection left you momentarily stunned. the car ride, once a mundane task, now seemed fraught with unspoken emotions and shifting dynamics.

the driver navigated the streets smoothly, and as the campus loomed into view, you felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. you had hoped for a quiet, uneventful start to your day, but taehyung’s presence had turned that expectation on its head. when the car finally pulled up to the entrance of the school, he sat up, his demeanor effortlessly casual. “here we are,” he said, his voice warm.

as you and taehyung stepped out of the car, a hush fell over the school grounds. the sight of him, the younger kim son, walking beside you—someone who had been, until now, a mere acquaintance—was enough to set the student body abuzz. whispers and incredulous glances followed you both, and you could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on you. “is that kim taehyung?” a student murmured, eyes wide with disbelief. “what’s he doing with her?” another voice asked, tinged with curiosity. “looks like they’re pretty close,” a third student speculated.

taehyung walked with an air of casual confidence, his posture relaxed despite the scrutiny. you glanced around, noticing yoongi standing amidst the crowd. his eyes were locked on you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. jungkook, standing beside him, seemed equally intrigued.

“what’s taehyung doing? who is she?” jungkook asked, his gaze shifting between taehyung and you. yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly as he replied, “that’s what i’m trying to figure out.”

you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on reaching your locker. taehyung followed close behind, his presence both reassuring and unsettling. as you approached your locker, jieun and jimin came running up to you, their expressions a mix of excitement and concern. “what are you doing with him?” jieun asked, her eyes shooting a skeptical look at taehyung.

“i’m his tutor,” you explained, trying to sound casual despite the intensity of the situation. jimin’s laughter erupted unexpectedly, drawing taehyung’s attention. “seriously? that’s hilarious. you’re his tutor?” his amusement was evident, but taehyung’s glare cut through the mirth.

“what’s so funny?” he demanded, his tone sharp. jieun stepped in, a defensive glint in her eyes. “watch how you talk to him. that's my boyfriend.”

taehyung raised his hands in mock surrender, a wry smile on his face. “i’m shaking in my boots.” jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “i’ll catch up with you later. i have class.” he glanced at jieun, who followed him with a playful sigh, “and don’t think you’re getting out of class either.”

you laughed softly as they walked away, the tension easing slightly. turning to taehyung, you started walking toward your class. he fell into step beside you, curiosity evident in his eyes. “you and jimin seem pretty close,” he said, breaking the silence. “what’s your relationship?”

“he’s my best friend,” you replied, smiling at the memory of your long friendship. “we’ve known each other since childhood.” taehyung’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “so many years, and you’ve never dated?”

you scoffed lightly. “of course not. boys and girls can be friends without dating.” taehyung’s expression shifted, a mixture of skepticism and intrigue crossing his face. “i don’t believe that’s true.”

you looked at him, puzzled. “why not?” he gave you a small, enigmatic smile. “no man of yours could be just a friend and nothing more. there’s always something else.”

his words hung in the air as he veered off towards his own class, leaving you standing there, stunned. the notion that a simple friendship could be questioned so easily made you reflect on your own relationships and the assumptions others might make. as he disappeared down the hallway, you shook your head and turned towards your own classroom, the thoughts of his comments mingling with the buzz of the day’s events. the unexpected dynamics and the shifting perceptions only added to the whirlwind of your life at school.

as the final bell of your psychology class rang, you gathered your belongings with the usual routine: slipping textbooks into your bag, organizing notes, and shutting down your laptop. the classroom was starting to empty, the chatter of students preparing for their next classes filling the air. you were just about to sling your bag over your shoulder when a figure loomed in your peripheral vision.

you looked up, startled to find yoongi leaning casually against your table, his smirk unmistakable. “what do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. yoongi shrugged nonchalantly. “an explanation would do it.”

“of what?” you replied, confused. his presence and vague statements were unnerving. before he could answer, jieun walked in, her eyes immediately darting between you and yoongi. “what’s going on here?”

yoongi’s smirk widened. “perfect timing,” he said, his tone dripping with malice. Without another word, he grabbed your bag, yanked it off the table, and dumped its contents onto the floor. books, notebooks, and pens scattered across the tiles. you were stunned, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

jieun’s eyes widened in shock. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, her voice laced with anger.

ignoring her, yoongi reached for her bag and, before she could react, emptied it onto the floor next to your scattered items. her possessions—a sleek wallet, a tube of lipstick, and an assortment of decorative items—joined the mess. the contrast between your straightforward, practical items and jieun’s high-end accessories was glaringly obvious. the classroom’s atmosphere grew tense as students started peeking through the open door, their murmurs rising in volume. yoongi turned to them with a mocking smile, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “did you all see that?” he asked, his voice carrying.

you felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, your face burning with embarrassment. jieun quickly knelt beside you, helping you gather your things with a mix of frustration and urgency. “i can’t believe this,” she muttered as she worked. yoongi’s gaze shifted back to you, his smirk unwavering. “so, who exactly are you, (y/n) (l/n)?” he asked, his tone both curious and taunting.

as the students watched the scene unfold, one hurriedly made her way to the nearest classroom, breathless and urgent. “yoongi’s causing a scene with (y/n) and jieun!” she shouted, pushing open the door and interrupting the lecture. taehyung’s head snapped up at the news. without a moment’s hesitation, he stood, his expression a mix of concern and determination. the classroom fell silent as he strode out, his steps quick and purposeful. he navigated the crowded hallways with urgency, his heart pounding in sync with his hurried pace.

as he arrived at the scene, the chaos greeted him like a tempest. the classroom was filled with murmurs and gasps, the students huddling near the door to catch a glimpse of the unfolding drama. taehyung’s gaze swept over the scattered contents on the floor, jieun standing beside you with a look of frustrated disbelief, and yoongi smirking triumphantly.

without wasting a second, taehyung’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. “everyone out,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. the students shuffled out of the room, their faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension. the door closed with a soft thud, leaving just the three of you and yoongi in the room.

yoongi turned to face taehyung, his smirk still intact despite the hostile atmosphere. “always meddling in things that don’t concern you,” he said dismissively. taehyung’s eyes flashed with anger. “shut up,” he retorted, his voice low and dangerous. he turned to you, his expression softening as he handed you your bag with a reassuring smile. “are you okay?”

you nodded, though your heart was racing. “yes, thank you.” taehyung turned back to yoongi, his demeanor shifting to one of steely resolve. “if you have an issue with (y/n), then you talk to me about it,” he stated firmly.

yoongi’s gaze darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. “know your place. your own brother doesn’t love you—what makes you so sure she will?”

the taunt was the final straw. taehyung’s face flushed with anger, and before anyone could react, he swung his fist, landing a solid punch to yoongi’s jaw. the impact echoed in the room, sending yoongi staggering backward. he caught his balance, his eyes narrowing in fury. he retaliated swiftly, his own punch connecting with taehyung’s cheek. the force of the blow made him stumble slightly, but he quickly steadied himself. the two of them were now fully engaged in a brutal exchange of punches and kicks, their movements fast and chaotic.

you watched in shock, your body frozen in place as the fight unfolded before your eyes. taehyung’s normally composed demeanor was replaced with raw aggression, each punch fueled by a mixture of anger and frustration. yoongi’s smirk had long vanished, replaced by a scowl of determination. the sound of fists connecting with flesh, grunts of pain, and heavy breathing filled the room.

taehyung’s punches were powerful, driven by his anger at yoongi’s provocation. he landed several blows, each one more forceful than the last. yoongi, though initially caught off guard, fought back with equal intensity. his movements were quick and calculated, aiming to exploit any openings in taehyung’s defense. the classroom was now a makeshift arena, the desks and chairs pushed aside in the frenzy. you watched helplessly, your pleas for taehyung to stop lost amid the chaos. the students who had remained in the hallway were pressed against the glass of the door, their faces etched with a mix of horror and fascination.

just as the fight seemed to reach its peak, a stern voice cut through the commotion. “enough!” the principal commanded, her tone authoritative and unwavering. taehyung and yoongi immediately froze, their chests heaving with heavy breaths. the principal stepped into the room, her expression a blend of sternness and concern. her presence alone was enough to command immediate compliance.

“both of you, come with me,” she said, her voice brooking no argument. “we’re going to the office.” taehyung and yoongi exchanged one last, heated glance before reluctantly following her out of the classroom. the students who had been watching from the hallway slowly began to disperse, their murmurs growing louder as they speculated about what they had just witnessed.

in the principal’s office, the atmosphere was thick with tension. taehyung and yoongi sat across from the principal’s desk, their faces flushed from the recent altercation. her stern gaze swept over them, her demeanor one of controlled irritation. “now, what exactly happened?” she demanded, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

yoongi leaned forward slightly, his posture relaxed despite the seriousness of the situation. “i’m truly sorry, principal kim,” he said with a hint of insincerity in his tone. “it’s common for friends to have disagreements and fights. it won’t happen again, i assure you.”

her eyes narrowed. “it may be common for friends to argue, but this was not just a disagreement. this was a violent altercation in the middle of a classroom, and you both need to understand the severity of your actions.” she turned her gaze to taehyung. “and you, kim taehyung, will fall off if you continue to let your temper control you. i expect better from you.” his jaw tightened, but he remained silent, clearly restraining himself.

the principal leaned back in her chair, her expression softening slightly as she concluded, “you both need to leave my office now. consider this a warning. any further disruptions will be dealt with more severely.” as they exited the office, the weight of the principal’s reprimand hung heavy in the air. taehyung’s face was set in a grim line, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. yoongi, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, a smirk playing on his lips as he followed him out into the hallway.

once outside, taehyung rounded on yoongi, his voice low but edged with menace. “stay away from (y/n).” yoongi clicked his tongue, his smirk widening. “i can’t do that,” he said, pausing for effect. “i’m just as interested in her as you are, old friend.”

the words hung in the air, their implications clear. with a final, mocking glance, yoongi turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. taehyung watched him go, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. his fists remained clenched, his knuckles white as he tried to steady his breathing. the conversation with the principal had done little to quell the storm brewing inside him. the mention of your name by yoongi had only fueled his anger further, intensifying the protective instincts he felt toward you.

back in the opulent study of the kim family manor, the air was heavy with disapproval. the room, lined with dark mahogany bookshelves and bathed in the muted glow of a desk lamp, seemed to amplify the sternness of the chairman. taehyung stood near the grand mahogany desk, his posture stiff and eyes lowered, as his father paced behind it, a frown etched deeply into his features.

“taehyung,” his father began, his voice stern, “i heard about the altercation at school today. explain yourself.”

his heart raced, and he hesitated, struggling to find the right words. he swallowed hard before speaking, his voice tinged with distress. “it was yoongi. he said something about my brother, about our family.” he trailed off, not wanting to delve into the specifics of yoongi’s taunts or his own actions that followed.

his father’s expression shifted from anger to a weary frustration. “taehyung, you must learn to control your impulses. acting rashly only undermines your position and creates unnecessary complications.” taehyung nodded, barely able to meet his father’s gaze. “i understand.”

as he turned to leave, the door opened, and taehyung’s older brother stepped into the study. for a fleeting moment, taehyung’s heart leapt with hope. perhaps it was a sign of reconciliation, or at least a chance for meaningful conversation. his joy was short-lived, however, when his brother’s icy tone cut through the room.

“taehyung,” his brother said sharply, “don’t ever make a fool of yourself like that again.” with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving taehyung standing there, his heart sinking with each step his brother took. the weight of disappointment and isolation settled heavily on his shoulders as he left the study.

meanwhile, in a starkly different setting, yoongi was engaged in a rigorous judo practice session with his father in the family dojo. the dojo, a spacious room with polished wooden floors and walls adorned with traditional Korean art, echoed with the grunts of exertion and the rhythmic thud of bodies hitting the mat.

yoongi, dressed in a white judogi, faced his father across the mat. his father, a formidable figure with an aura of authority, was already in a stance, his eyes sharp and focused. the session began with intense speed, both men moving with practiced precision. yoongi aimed a swift foot sweep at his father, who countered effortlessly with a firm grip, twisting yoongi’s arm and forcing him to the mat.

breathing heavily, yoongi rolled to his feet, his movements fluid despite the strain. “father,” he said as he reset his stance, “i want to explain what happened with taehyung today.” his father’s eyes narrowed. “very well, but remember, actions speak louder than words. show me.”

they resumed their fighting stance, and yoongi executed a series of rapid movements—a throw followed by a high kick—trying to subdue his father. his father, however, was a step ahead, using yoongi’s momentum against him. he deflected his attempts with ease and threw him to the mat again. “taehyung threw the first punch,” he said between gasps for air as he scrambled to his feet. “i just reacted.”

his father, now visibly annoyed, grabbed him and pinned him down with a decisive maneuver, his face contorted with a mix of anger and disappointment. “you're weak,” he spat out, “it's the reason you can’t beat taehyung. it’s why you’ll never beat me.”

with a final, forceful move, he released yoongi and left him sprawled on the mat, breathless and defeated. he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his father’s words echoing in his mind. the lesson was harsh and uncompromising, a stark reminder of the high standards and expectations he was constantly under. as he gathered himself, he could feel the sting of failure mingling with the bruises forming on his body.

the evening had settled into a soft twilight as you made your way up the grand stairs of taehyung's manor. the mansion, with its opulent decor and sprawling architecture, was a stark contrast to the modesty of your own surroundings. you held a medical kit and a stack of textbooks close, a determined frown on your face. the events of the day lingered in your mind, especially the bruises and cuts you’d seen on him.

as you reached his room, you hesitated for a brief moment before knocking. the door swung open to reveal him, his face bearing the marks of the day’s earlier confrontation. the bruises on his cheek were a dark, purpling hue, and a cut above his eyebrow was still fresh, blood oozing sluggishly. his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something—perhaps embarrassment or discomfort—before he masked it with a casual smile.

“hey,” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the shock you felt. “i brought this. let me clean those cuts up.” he raised an eyebrow, his smile slightly wobbly. “you don’t have to go through all that trouble. i’m fine.”

“not a chance,” you replied firmly, stepping into his room. “sit down. you look like you’ve been through a warzone.”

with a resigned sigh, he sat on the edge of his bed, his posture relaxed but his gaze on you as you unpacked the kit. he watched with a mix of curiosity and something softer in his eyes. as you approached him with a sterile wipe, he flinched slightly at the sting of the antiseptic. “stop being such a baby,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “it’s just a little sting.”

he chuckled softly, the sound a low, soothing rumble in the quiet of the room. his eyes wandered over your face, taking in the way your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you bit your lip as you worked. there was something almost tender in his gaze, though he masked it with a casual smile.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, glancing up at him as you dabbed at a particularly stubborn cut. “you,” he said with a grin. “you’re just pretty, that’s all.”

your face flushed a deep shade of pink. “cut it out,” you said, trying to sound exasperated but unable to suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “open your book. we have some studying to do.”

taehyung complied, opening his textbook to the physics section you’d discussed earlier. you settled next to him, placing the medical kit aside and spreading out your textbooks and notes. you pointed out the relevant formulas, meticulously writing them down on a notepad. his eyes followed your movements, occasionally flicking up to meet yours with a look of appreciation.

as you explained a particularly tricky concept, you could feel his gaze lingering on you. it was an unspoken compliment in his eyes, and every so often, he would nod thoughtfully, taking in the information you provided. after a while, you handed him a practice problem. he worked through it with a furrowed brow, his concentration evident. when he finally looked up with a grin, having solved the problem correctly, you couldn’t help but beam with pride.

“well done,” you said warmly. “you learned well.” his smile widened, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “my tutor taught me well,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

the atmosphere in the room softened, the earlier tension dissipating into a comfortable setting. you continued to go over more problems with him, your laughter and his occasional teasing filling the space between you. each smile and laugh seemed to draw you closer, making the evening’s tutoring session feel less like a task and more like a shared moment of genuine connection.

as the night grew darker, and you packed up your things to leave, taehyung walked you to the door. he looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and something more, a hint of admiration that made your heart flutter.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that warmed you. “i really appreciate this.” you nodded, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “anytime. and next time, try not to get into any more fights, alright?” he laughed, a sound that felt like a promise of brighter days ahead. “i’ll do my best.”

as you left the manor, the evening air was crisp and carried with it the faint scent of blooming flowers from the surrounding gardens. the grandeur of the manor faded behind you, its tall gates closing with a soft clang. you were lost in thought, replaying the warmth of the evening and the unexpected kindness you had shared with taehyung.

but as you walked past the wrought-iron gates, a loud roar of a motorcycle broke through your reverie. you turned, your heart sinking as you saw the sleek black motorcycle pull up beside you. the rider, clad in black leather and a helmet, stopped just a few feet in front of you. the world seemed to slow as the rider dismounted, and the helmet was lifted to reveal his familiar smirk.

“well, well,” yoongi drawled, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. “am i dreaming, or did i just see you leaving kim taehyung’s house?”

your heart sank further, frustration bubbling up inside you. “i’m his tutor,” you said tersely, trying to keep your voice steady. his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his smirk widened, turning into something more sardonic. “really? is it that bad that you need to stoop so low? are you that desperate for money?” his words were like sharp thorns, pricking at your patience. you clenched your fists at your sides, feeling a surge of anger rise up. the world around you seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the night air suddenly feeling colder.

“you have no idea,” you snapped, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “i’m broke. i work multiple jobs to support my mom because my dad passed away. i didn’t get to eat off the same silver plate you did. i don’t care what you think or what you do with that information. i’m done playing your games.”

his smirk faltered, his expression shifting to one of stunned silence. for a moment, he stood there, caught off guard by the raw honesty of your words. the night air seemed to grow heavier between you, charged with the weight of your confession. you pushed past him, not giving him a chance to respond. the cool breeze of the evening felt soothing against your heated cheeks as you walked away, each step a release of the pent-up frustration you’d been holding. you could feel yoongi’s gaze on your back, but you didn’t turn around.

the next day at school, the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long, warm shadows across the hallways. you made your way to your locker, the familiar hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter from students filling the air. as you approached, your phone buzzed in your pocket, its screen lighting up with yoongi’s name.

you sighed, your fingers reaching for your phone just as it began to ring. you were about to swipe to answer when suddenly, taehyung appeared beside you, his hand moving with quick precision. before you could react, he snatched your phone from your grasp. you opened your mouth to protest, but he had already answered the call.

“stop calling her,” his voice was firm, cutting through the background noise of the school. yoongi’s voice came through the speaker, laced with casual annoyance. “you never seem to know where your place is. i just wanted to ask her to have lunch with me.”

taehyung’s response was immediate, a scoff escaping his lips. “she’s not hungry.” with that, he ended the call abruptly, his expression a mix of irritation and resolve. he handed your phone back to you with a dismissive air. you stared at him, taken aback by the sudden and assertive interference. “are you out of your mind?” you demanded, frustration lacing your tone. “what was that about?”

taehyung’s face remained stern, his gaze intense as he met your eyes. “i don’t want you talking to yoongi.”

“why?” you asked, bewildered. “what’s the big deal?” he hesitated for a moment, as if grappling with how much to reveal. “i like you,” he said finally, his voice softer but earnest. “i don’t want to see you with other guys.”

a flutter of butterflies took flight in your stomach at his confession, but you tried to keep your composure. “you’re from a different world,” you said with a scoff, despite the flurry of emotions bubbling up inside you. “it’ll never happen.”

his eyes didn’t waver, and he seemed unperturbed by your words. instead, he continued, his voice steady, “do you feel the same way?” you shook your head, feeling the weight of his question. “it doesn’t matter how i feel. your family would never accept it.”

a heavy silence fell between you. taehyung’s expression hardened slightly, a look of determination settling over his features. before you could say more, he stepped back, giving you space but still watching you intently. with a sigh, you turned and walked toward your next class, the day stretching out before you. the butterflies in your stomach continued to flutter, their presence a constant reminder of his unexpected confession. each step felt heavier than the last, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions and uncertainties.

as the professor’s announcement echoed through the classroom, excitement rippled through the students like a wave. the camping trip was to be a weekend adventure, an opportunity to escape the confines of academic life and immerse themselves in nature. a chorus of enthusiastic voices filled the room, with students already speculating about the activities and sharing plans for the trip.

you, however, felt a knot of apprehension forming in your stomach. the idea of spending an entire weekend away, particularly with the tension and complications of your current situation, left you feeling uneasy. as you scanned the room, your gaze met taehyung’s. his expression was a complex blend of sternness and something else—perhaps resignation or frustration. he watched you with a defeated look, his eyes reflecting the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

on the other side of the room, you felt yoongi’s gaze on you. the smirk playing on his lips was unmistakable, a self-assured glint in his eyes as if he relished the drama of the situation. his attention seemed solely focused on you, adding an extra layer of discomfort to your already fraught emotions.

jimin placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his voice, light and teasing, cut through the tension. “did you get into an argument with your student?” he asked, his tone playful. you scoffed, a mix of frustration and amusement surfacing. “you're the worst.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “come on, lighten up. you should have fun while you can.” his words were meant to be comforting, but they did little to ease the knot in your stomach. you offered him a weak smile, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits, though the weight of the upcoming trip felt heavy on your shoulders.

for the rest of the day, taehyung maintained a deafening silence around you. his demeanor was distant, almost cold. whenever your paths crossed, he would quickly avert his gaze or walk away, his avoidance palpable and disheartening. his usual warmth and playful banter were replaced by an impenetrable barrier, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of his withdrawal.

the forest was a breathtaking expanse of verdant splendor, a living tapestry of emerald hues and dappled sunlight. tall, ancient trees stood sentinel, their leaves whispering softly in the gentle breeze that wove through the forest canopy. the ground beneath your feet was a soft carpet of moss and fallen leaves, muffling your steps as you walked. the air was crisp and fragrant, filled with the earthy aroma of pine and the faint, sweet scent of wildflowers.

as you meandered along the winding path, your heart sank with every glance that failed to catch sight of taehyung. the weight of his absence was palpable, a dull ache that gnawed at you as you took in the beauty around you. the forest, though enchanting, seemed to mock your solitude, its serenity juxtaposed with your inner turmoil.

walking alongside you were jimin and jieun, their cheerful conversation a stark contrast to your pensive mood. jimin was animatedly recounting a humorous story from a past camping trip. his laughter was infectious, and jieun’s giggles provided a lighthearted counterpoint.

“remember that time i tried to roast marshmallows over an open flame and ended up setting my sleeve on fire?” jimin said with a chuckle. jieun burst into laughter, shaking her head. “how could i forget? i had to put out the flames with my water bottle.”

jimin grinned sheepishly. “well, at least we didn’t end up in the hospital that time.”

“you’re lucky i was there to save the day,” jieun teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

you managed a small smile at their interaction, their relationship a brief respite from your worries. despite their light-hearted banter, you could feel the tension of yoongi’s gaze boring into you from behind. his presence was a constant, uncomfortable reminder of the unresolved tension between you. his dark eyes seemed to follow your every move, and you could sense his scrutiny even without turning to look.

jungkook, walking beside him, appeared to be curious about his friend’s fixation. “what’s the deal with you and her?” he asked, his tone casual. yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips. “i wish i knew. there’s just something about her that catches my interest.”

jungkook squinted his eyes as he assessed you from a distance. “she’s not bad. don’t blame you.” the comment earned him a sharp glare from yoongi. “careful,” he warned, his tone edged with irritation. “don't make me beat your ass, too.”

jungkook raised an eyebrow but said no more, sensing the undercurrent of tension. he focused instead on the beauty of the forest, the towering trees and the dappled sunlight creating a picturesque backdrop.

as you continued along the path, you tried to push yoongi’s gaze to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the tranquility of the surroundings and the lively conversation of your friends. the forest was enchanting, a sanctuary of natural beauty that was meant to be savored. yet, despite its allure, your thoughts remained with taehyung, and the emptiness of his absence cast a shadow over the otherwise perfect setting.

the school gymnasium was an expanse of silence, the usual echoes of bouncing basketballs and student chatter replaced by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint hum of air conditioning. taehyung lay sprawled on the floor, his back against the smooth wooden surface, while his friend sat cross-legged beside him. the overhead lights cast a warm, artificial glow, illuminating the deserted space with a gentle radiance.

namjoon glanced over at him, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “so, why didn’t you tag along on the camping trip? i’d give a lot to go on a trip like that again,” he said, his tone light but tinged with genuine curiosity. taehyung let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “being a senior must suck, huh? no more spontaneous trips,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

namjoon shot him a mock glare. “yeah, thanks for the sympathy,” he retorted, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and frustration. “but seriously, what’s your excuse for skipping out?”

taehyung’s smile faltered slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he shifted into a more serious posture. “i wanted her to miss me,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. “i thought maybe if i stayed behind, she’d realize how much she needs me.”

namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of mild incredulity. “you do realize you left her with yoongi, right?” the weight of his words hit taehyung like a physical blow. his eyes widened as the realization sank in, and he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat. the silence of the gym seemed to press in on him, amplifying his feelings of regret and frustration. “i forgot,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of his palms. “i didn’t think about how much trouble yoongi would cause. i just wanted to make sure she felt my absence.”

namjoon’s gaze softened with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. he patted his back gently. “look, man, you can’t always control how people react to you. sometimes, you have to trust that things will work out on their own.” taehyung sighed, lifting his head to look at him with a rueful smile. “i know. i guess i wanted to be the one she thought about, the one who made her day better.”

namjoon gave him a reassuring smile. “you still have a chance to show her that, but not if you sit here and brood. maybe you should go find her. let her know that you’re here and that you care.” taehyung nodded, a renewed determination in his eyes. “you’re right. i need to make things right.”

the forest surrounding your campsite was a picturesque canvas of lush greens and earthy browns, the towering trees providing a serene canopy that filtered the soft rays of the setting sun. the air was crisp, filled with the invigorating scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. you were in the midst of setting up your tent, your fingers fumbling with the fabric and poles, your mind more preoccupied with recent events than the task at hand.

as you struggled with the stubborn tent pole, a voice suddenly cut through your concentration. “you’re doing it all wrong.” startled, you turned around to find yoongi approaching you, his expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. he looked effortlessly composed, the rugged outdoor setting only enhancing his enigmatic charm. his presence was both unnerving and oddly reassuring, a strange paradox that made your heart race.

“here, let me help you,” he said, stepping closer and taking the tent pole from your hands with an ease that suggested he had done this many times before. you stood there, momentarily frozen, watching as he expertly assembled the tent, his movements fluid and precise.

“thank you,” you managed to say, your voice tinged with genuine gratitude and a hint of surprise. you hadn’t expected him to offer any assistance, especially after your recent interactions. to your further astonishment, he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually intense demeanor. “if you want to thank me,” he began, his tone carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place, “you should stop.”

you blinked, confusion clouding your thoughts. “stop? stop what?” yoongi scoffed lightly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he turned his attention back to fixing the last bit of the tent. “stop driving me crazy,” he said, his voice low and almost tender, the words carrying a weight that hung in the cool evening air.

with that cryptic remark, he stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands, and walked away, leaving you standing there, stunned and bewildered. the forest around you seemed to echo with the faint rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds, a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. the forest grew quieter as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced in the dimming light. you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and calm your restless thoughts. the camping trip had barely begun, and already it was proving to be more eventful than you had anticipated.

as the sun set and the shadows grew longer, you found yourself standing by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a comforting glow on your face. the crackling fire filled the air with a sense of camaraderie, but your thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with confusion and curiosity about yoongi's earlier words. just then, a hushed conversation from the nearby tent caught your attention. you turned slightly, trying to make out the voices.

“did you see her with taehyung earlier?” one girl asked, her voice dripping with curiosity. “no, i saw her with yoongi,” another replied, a hint of scandal in her tone. “she’s such a slut,” the third girl sneered, her words cutting through the night like a knife.

your heart sank, and you felt a rush of anger and humiliation rise within you. before you could react, you felt something soft and warm being pulled over your head. you turned around to find yoongi standing there, his hoodie now draped over your shoulders. his face was set in a scowl, eyes dark with protective anger. “don’t listen to them,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “don’t let them get to you.”

you were too stunned to speak, only able to nod as his words resonated with you. the girls continued their snide comments, oblivious to yoongi’s presence. you watched as his gaze flicked to the front of their tent, where their sneakers were lined up neatly. without a word, he walked over and snatched the shoes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “what are you doing?” you whispered, following him as he strode purposefully toward a nearby bucket full of water.

he glanced at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “teaching them a lesson,” he replied, before dumping the sneakers into the water. you couldn’t help but gasp, a mix of disbelief and amusement flooding you. “why would you do that?” you asked, half-laughing despite yourself.

he turned to you, his expression serious. “because nobody gets to pick on you. except for me,” he added with a smirk, the playful edge returning to his voice. you felt a strange warmth spread through you at his words. It was a peculiar kind of protectiveness, one that left you feeling both cared for and slightly exasperated by his audacity. the girls' voices ceased abruptly when they discovered their soggy shoes, their shrieks of outrage echoing through the campsite. yoongi’s smirk widened, clearly pleased with the chaos he had caused.

the night had deepened, the flickering campfire casting dancing shadows on the surrounding trees. uou and yoongi sat by the flames, a strange bond forming in the silence between you. just as you were beginning to feel a tentative peace, a familiar voice shattered the tranquility.

“have you had enough?” the voice asked, tinged with an unmistakable edge.

you turned, your heart stopping for a moment when you saw taehyung standing there, his expression dark and unreadable. yoongi scoffed, his irritation clear. “you always find a way to ruin things, don't you?” he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.

taehyung ignored his taunt, his eyes fixed on you. before you could react, he strode forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you away from the fire. yoongi’s voice followed you, laced with a smirk. “you make me want her even more,” he called out, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

perplexed and a bit alarmed, you allowed taehyung to guide you into the forest, the sounds of the camp fading behind you. his grip on your wrist was firm but not painful, his silence heavy with unspoken words. finally, you found your voice. “what’s your problem?” you asked, frustration bubbling to the surface.

taehyung stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his eyes blazing. “i don’t care what my family thinks,” he snapped. “it’s no reason for me not to like you.” his words took you by surprise, and you felt your heart soften. “taehyung,” you began, unsure of what to say. “i don’t know what to say.”

“don’t say anything,” he interrupted, his voice raw with emotion. without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. you were stunned, your mind racing, but as the initial shock faded, you found yourself relaxing into his embrace. tentatively, you wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug. his warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. the forest around you was quiet, the rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying your racing heartbeats.

you could feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating, replaced by a vulnerability that he rarely showed. his grip on you tightened, as if he was afraid to let go and lose this moment. you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the silence between you filled with a thousand unspoken words.

the morning sun bathed the forest in a golden glow as your group made its way along the winding path towards the hotel for breakfast. the air was crisp and cool, filled with the scents of pine and earth. you walked beside jieun and jimin, their light-hearted banter a soothing background to your thoughts. “did you sleep well?” jieun asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

you nodded, offering her a small smile. “as well as one can in a sleeping bag,” you replied, trying to match her cheerful tone.

jimin chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “we should have a competition for the worst bedhead,” he joked, ruffling jieun's already tousled hair. taehyung walked a few steps behind you, his presence a comforting weight on your mind. every now and then, you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you focused on the path ahead, trying to keep your thoughts from wandering too far back to the previous night.

further back in the group, jungkook was busy going through the photos he had taken with his camera. his fingers deftly navigated through the shots until he stopped at a series of pictures. they were candid shots of you and yoongi by the campfire, your faces illuminated by the dancing flames. he smirked as he showed the photos to yoongi. “look at these,” he teased, nudging him playfully. “you look like a lovesick puppy.”

yoongi glanced at the photos, a faint smile playing on his lips. “so that’s what i look like,” he mused softly, almost to himself. “when I’m looking at her,”

jungkook’s eyes widened in horror as yoongi’s smile grew, a rare and genuine expression that made his usual aloof demeanor melt away. “are you serious?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still on the photos. when he finally spoke, his voice was calm and resolute. “maybe i am,” he said simply, his smile never wavering.

as the group continued walking, the path began to widen, revealing glimpses of the hotel ahead. the building was nestled among the trees, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. the sight of it brought a sense of anticipation, a promise of warmth and comfort after the chilly morning hike. you could feel the mood lighten as the group neared the hotel. conversations grew livelier, and laughter echoed through the trees. jieun and jimin were deep in a playful argument about the best breakfast foods, their voices rising and falling in a familiar rhythm.

you smiled at their exchange, grateful for the distraction. but even as you laughed along with them, you couldn’t shake the feeling of taehyung’s gaze. every now and then, you glanced back, catching his eye for just a moment before looking away. when the hotel came fully into view, the group quickened its pace, eager for the promise of a hearty breakfast. the warm light spilling from the windows was inviting, and you could already imagine the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods.

as you reached the hotel entrance, jimin held the door open with a flourish. “ladies first,” he said with a grin, gesturing for you and jieun to enter. “such a gentleman,” she teased, giving him a playful shove as she walked past. you followed her inside, the warmth of the hotel wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the dining area was cozy, filled with the chatter of other guests and the clinking of cutlery. you found a table near the window, the morning light casting a soft glow over everything.

the morning sun hung high in the sky, casting shimmering reflections on the surface of the pool outside the cafeteria. the earlier excitement of the camping trip had faded, replaced by the persistent whispers and judgmental looks from the same girls who had tormented you the night before. their voices, though hushed, reached your ears, making your breakfast sit like a lead weight in your stomach. frustrated and fed up, you abandoned your plate and left the cafeteria, seeking solace in the quiet by the pool. you stared into the water, trying to calm your racing heart. the tranquility of the scene was short-lived, however, as you felt a presence behind you. turning around, you were met with the sight of yoongi, his usual smirk playing on his lips.

before you could retreat, he was already upon you, his hands grabbing yours in a firm grip. you gasped in shock, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. his smirk widened as he dangled you over the edge of the pool, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“going somewhere?” he asked, his tone mocking and playful. you looked at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. the world seemed to slow as you realized what was about to happen. before you could protest, he let go, and you plunged into the cold water. the shock of the impact stole your breath, and you surfaced, wiping the water from your eyes.

he crouched by the edge of the pool, laughing. “sorry, i slipped,” he said, his voice dripping with insincerity.

as you blinked the water from your eyes, you saw the commotion his actions had caused. students were clamoring inside, drawn by the spectacle. in an instant, taehyung stood up from his seat in the cafeteria and walked out, his expression darkening with each step.

before he could react, taehyung reached him and, with a swift movement, kicked him into the pool. “sorry, i slipped,” he said, with the same amount if insincerity.

jieun and jimin rushed out, their faces a mix of concern and amusement. jimin extended a hand to help you out, but jieun frantically pushed him away. “no, no, take my hand,” she insisted, her eyes wide with worry. you took her hand, and she pulled you out of the pool with surprising strength. water dripped from your clothes, and you felt the eyes of the crowd on you, adding to your embarrassment. you locked eyes with taehyung for a brief moment, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and something deeper that you couldn’t quite place.

“are you okay?” jimin asked, his voice soft and soothing. you nodded, though you could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “i’m fine,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you. taehyung’s eyes never left you as you walked away, wet and humiliated. the laughter and whispers of the students faded into the background, and you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. you needed to get away, to find a quiet place where you could collect yourself.

as you walked, your thoughts swirled. the events of the past few days had been overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread about what was to come. taehyung’s concern for you was touching, but it also added to the confusion in your heart. you couldn’t deny the flutter of butterflies when he was near, but the differences between your worlds seemed insurmountable.

you found a quiet corner behind the hotel, away from prying eyes, and sat down, letting the sun warm your wet clothes. the silence was a balm to your frayed nerves, giving you a moment to breathe and process everything that had happened. taehyung’s words echoed in your mind, his declaration of not caring what his family thought. it was a bold statement, one that filled you with equal parts hope and fear. you knew that your feelings for him were real, but the complications seemed endless.

lost in thought, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. you looked up to see taehyung standing there, his eyes soft and filled with concern. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you nodded, unable to find the words. he sat down beside you, his presence a comforting weight. the silence between you was heavy with unspoken words, but for now, it was enough to simply be there, together.

“thank you,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. he smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “anytime,” he replied, and in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the mansion as you made your way to taehyung's room. the echoes of the day's events lingered in your mind, but you pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. you had a job to do, and you intended to do it well, despite the growing complications of your feelings.

his room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting a warm light over the scattered books and papers. he sat at his desk, his gaze distant as he stared at the open textbook in front of him. you could sense his restlessness, the usual intensity in his eyes replaced by something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

you settled into the chair across from him, opening your notes and preparing to dive into the evening's lesson. “alright, taehyung, let's start with the themes of this chapter. i think—” you paused, noticing that his eyes were not on the book but on you. he was staring, an unspoken tension hanging in the air between you. “what's wrong?” you asked, your voice soft yet curious.

he sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “you're too damn distracting,” he said, his voice low and rough with frustration. the words took you by surprise. before you could respond, before you could even process what he meant, he stood up and crossed the small distance between you. his movements were swift, almost desperate, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

for a moment, you were stunned, frozen in place by the suddenness of his action. but then something within you surrendered, and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss. it was tender and fervent, filled with all the pent-up emotions that neither of you had dared to voice. as the kiss deepened, his hands found their way to your waist, lifting you and guiding you onto the bed. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, the heat of the moment consuming everything else. you clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair, your heart pounding in your chest.

but then, a sliver of rationality cut through the haze of passion, and you broke the kiss, gasping for breath. “taehyung, we can't,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “your mother might hear.” he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “then you’ll just have to be quiet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours once more.

his gentle touch ignited a fire in you, and you couldn’t help but respond. he was so careful, so attentive, as if he could sense every nerve ending, every soft sigh that escaped your lips. you felt your resolve slipping away as his hands roamed over your body, peeling away layers of clothing like petals from a rose. his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine.

you lay back on the bed, allowing him to take control. his mouth followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. every caress, every suck of his lips sent waves of pleasure crashing through you. your hands found his shoulders, your nails digging in as you tried to anchor yourself in reality. but the room was spinning, the air thick with desire.

his kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazed your skin as he moved lower. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. you felt the warmth of his breath against your stomach, and then lower still, and your entire body arched off the bed. he looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, and whispered, “do you trust me?” without a second thought, you nodded.

his mouth was on you, and the world disappeared. you could only feel the exquisite sensations he was creating, the gentle pressure of his tongue, the soft sucks that sent your senses soaring. your hands clutched at the bed sheets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you had never felt anything so intense, so consuming. every stroke was a promise, every kiss a declaration. and when you finally reached the peak, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes holding yours in a silent understanding.

his gaze was soft as he kissed his way back up your body, his touch tender as he brushed the hair from your face. you could see the question in his eyes, but you didn’t need words. you reached for him, pulling him closer, and he settled between your legs, his own need palpable.

his hand stroked you gently, his eyes never leaving yours, until you nodded, giving him the go-ahead. and then he was inside you, filling you in a way that made you feel complete. he moved slowly at first, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, but all you felt was an overwhelming need for more. you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper, your hips moving in tandem with his.

the room was filled with the sound of your muffled moans and the slick sound of skin on skin. taehyung whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to your racing thoughts. his touch was both gentle and firm, a perfect mix of tenderness and passion that had you teetering on the edge once again.

his pace quickened, his breaths growing harsher as he approached his own climax. and when he finally reached it, you felt his whole body tense, his muscles coiling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

you lay there, panting and spent, his weight a comforting presence on top of you. for a moment, you allowed yourself to revel in the feeling of him, in the warmth that surrounded you. but as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. the line between student and tutor had been crossed, and there was no going back.

he seemed to sense your unease. With a gentle sigh, he shifted beside you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “we should get dressed,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

you nodded, biting your lip as you sat up. the remnants of the passion lingered in the air, but the urgency of the situation tugged at your mind. taehyung slipped out of bed and began to gather your clothes, handing them to you with a soft smile.

“here, let me help,” he offered, his touch tender as he helped you slip into your clothes. his fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. as he fastened the buttons of your blouse, he paused, his eyes locking onto yours. “don’t worry,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “everything will be okay.”

just as his reassuring words began to settle your nerves, the door burst open with a loud bang, causing both of you to jump. there, standing in the doorway, was his mother, her face a mask of shock and fury. the air seemed to freeze, tension crackling like a live wire. “i knew it,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief. “i knew it.”

you and taehyung were too stunned to respond at first, the reality of the situation crashing down on you with a brutal force. she turned her gaze on you, her eyes blazing with contempt. “i gave you a job, and this is how you repay me?”

“mother, please—” he began, but she cut him off, her words sharp and venomous. “and you,” she spat, rounding on him. “i raised you better than this, taehyung. how could you? she's a different breed, not one of us.”

his expression hardened, a defiant fire lighting up his eyes. “i like her,” he declared, his voice strong and unwavering. “and you’ll just have to deal with it.” his mother's face twisted in fury. “pull yourself together, taehyung. this—this cannot happen.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the scene, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. “i'm so sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “i never meant to—” but the words died in your throat as you saw the heartbreak in taehyung's eyes. with a final, tearful glance at him, you turned and fled the room, the walls closing in around you as you ran down the hallway. the sound of his mother’s angry tirade echoed behind you, but all you could focus on was the pain of leaving him behind.

your heart pounded in your chest, each step a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume you. the mansion felt like a labyrinth, but you kept running, tears blurring your vision. you had to get out, had to find a way to breathe again. finally, you burst through the front doors and into the morning light, the crisp air a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. you stopped, gasping for breath, the tears streaming down your face as you tried to make sense of everything that had just happened.

yoongi stood at the end of the long, winding path leading to your house, your student id clutched tightly in his hand. it had fallen straight out of your pocket after he pushed you into the hotel's pool. his heart pounded as he took in the sight before him. your home was small, much smaller than he had imagined, a stark contrast to the grandeur he was accustomed to. the modesty of it all made his heart ache, a pang of guilt and sadness settling deep within him.

as he approached, your mother appeared on the porch, her kind eyes squinting slightly as she called out, “who are you?”

“i’m yoongi,” he introduced himself, bowing respectfully. “i’m a friend of your daughter. she dropped her student id, and i wanted to return it.” her face lit up with a warm smile. “oh, thank you so much. please, come in. you must be hungry.”

he hesitated, not wanting to intrude, but her insistence was unwavering. “no, really, it’s fine. i just came to drop this off,” he tried to protest, but she waved him off, ushering him inside with a firm yet gentle hand. “nonsense. you came all this way. the least i can do is offer you a meal.”

he found himself seated on the floor, legs crossed as your mother moved about the small kitchen, preparing an array of dishes. the homely aroma filled the room, bringing a sense of warmth and comfort that was almost foreign to him. it had been a long time since he had experienced something so simple, yet so profoundly touching. when she finally set the food before him, he was taken aback by the spread. simple, yet lovingly prepared dishes adorned the low table, and his heart hurt at the sight. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft as he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.

your mother watched him with a gentle smile, her eyes filled with a motherly concern. “is it good?” she asked, her voice hopeful. he nodded, swallowing the bite he had taken. “yes,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of emotion he hadn’t expected. “it’s just like my mother used to make.”

your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, replaying the events of the day over and over. the embarrassment, the hurtful words, the confrontation with taehyung's mother—it all weighed heavily on your heart. you felt tears welling up, but you forced them back, determined to keep your composure until you were safely inside the sanctuary of your home.

as you approached your house, you noticed an unfamiliar pair of shoes at the entrance. puzzled, you stepped inside, your heart skipping a beat when you saw yoongi standing in the small living room, his expression equally shocked to see you. he looked different here, out of place but somehow softer in the homely environment. he stepped forward, his eyes immediately catching the tears brimming in your eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

the question snapped something inside you. all the emotions you had been holding back came rushing to the surface. “please, stop toying with me,” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “i don’t know what i did to make you hate me so much.”

his eyes widened in shock, the hurt in your voice piercing him deeply. before he could respond, you turned and slammed the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the small house. your mother, who had been in the kitchen, rushed over, her face etched with concern. “what happened?” she asked, her voice soft and worried.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. the tears you had fought so hard to keep at bay finally spilled over as you collapsed into her arms. “i’m sorry,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “i’m so sorry for liking taehyung.”

your mother’s face softened with understanding. she held you close, her hand gently stroking your hair. “no, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice filled with love and regret. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you a better life.” the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. the weight of your mother’s words hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the struggles you had both faced. she pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly. “loving someone isn’t a crime, and you deserve to be happy, no matter what.” you nodded, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. the warmth of your mother’s embrace and her unwavering support gave you a sense of solace, a momentary reprieve from the turmoil of the day.

the next day at school, the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on you, making it difficult to focus on anything else. as you walked down the hall, the lively chatter of students felt distant, like a muffled background noise. jieun walked beside you, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by the worry etched on her face.

“hey, are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle but filled with concern. “you haven't said a word since we got here.” you barely registered her words, your mind lost in a haze of confusion and heartache. she tried again, her hand lightly touching your arm. “come on, talk to me. what happened?”

you remained silent, your eyes fixed on the floor as you continued walking. jieun's worry deepened, and she was about to press further when jimin came running up to the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and urgency. “fired? why’d you get fired?” he asked, his voice louder than necessary, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

you stopped in your tracks, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “how do you know?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “because they offered me your position the minute you got fired,” he said, his tone incredulous. “now tell us, what happened?”

you took a deep breath, the pain of the previous night bubbling up again. “i got fired simply because i liked him,” you said, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. jieun gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “i can't believe it,” she murmured, shaking her head. “that's so unfair.”

jimin's expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and frustration. "this is messed up," he said, his voice low but firm. "you don’t deserve this." as the three of you stood there, you noticed taehyung walking into the school. the sight of him was like a punch to the gut, and without a word, you turned and walked away, your heart too heavy to face him.

jieun watched you go, her eyes filled with disbelief and sadness. “i just can’t believe it,” she repeated, more to herself than to anyone else. jimin turned his gaze towards taehyung, his jaw set in determination. “you need to make this right,” he said, his voice carrying a note of command.

taehyung's eyes followed your retreating form, a deep regret etched in his features. he nodded, more to himself than to jimin, and started to follow after you, his steps quickening as he realized the gravity of the situation. you reached the courtyard, your favorite spot for some semblance of peace, and sat down on one of the benches, burying your face in your hands. the events of the past day played over and over in your mind, each memory a sharp sting to your heart. you didn’t notice him approaching until he was standing right in front of you, his shadow casting a long, somber line over your form.

you could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. the leaves rustled softly in the breeze, their whispering a cruel reminder of how insignificant your problems seemed in the grand scheme of things. your heart felt heavy, each beat a painful reminder of the day’s events. your eyes, swollen from crying, were fixed on the ground, as if seeking solace in the worn path beneath you.

the sound of footsteps approached, but you barely noticed, lost in your own grief. it wasn’t until taehyung's shadow fell across your bench that you looked up, your tear-streaked face meeting his intense gaze.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with urgency. you shook your head, your frustration evident. “there’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cracking with the strain of your emotions. you stood up, ready to walk away from him, from the pain, from everything.

but before you could take a step, his hand reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm yet gentle grip. you turned back to face him, a mix of surprise and defiance in your eyes. “everyone is an obstacle,” he said, his voice resolute. “i know you’re different from me, but i want to learn. do what you’re good at, teach me. i don’t want to spend the rest of my life mourning you.”

his words cut through the haze of your despair, a sudden burst of clarity amidst the fog of your emotions. the sincerity in his voice was palpable, each word a desperate plea for understanding and connection. you stared at him, your heart racing as you processed his confession. his eyes, usually so confident and sure, were now filled with a vulnerability you had never seen before. it was as if he was laying his soul bare before you, revealing a depth of feeling that had been hidden beneath his strong exterior.

“taehyung,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words. “you don’t understand. this isn’t just about us. it’s about my life, my job, everything i’ve worked for.”

he shook his head, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as if to anchor you both in this moment. “i do understand,” he said, his voice fierce with conviction. “i know i’ve made mistakes, and i know i’ve hurt you. but i don’t want to lose you. not like this.” the raw emotion in his eyes mirrored your own pain, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. the bustling sounds of the school, the murmurs of students passing by—all of it fell into silence as you focused solely on him.

“you’re asking me to forgive you,” you said softly, the weight of his words sinking in. “but forgiveness isn’t something that can be given so easily.” taehyung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with regret and hope. “i’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said, his voice barely audible. “i’m asking for a chance. a chance to show you that i can change, that i can be different. i need you to teach me, to help me understand.”

his plea resonated deep within you, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. the anger and hurt that had consumed you were slowly giving way to a flicker of hope, a glimmer of the possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. “you really want this?” you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

he nodded, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. “yes,” he said firmly. “i want to learn. i want to be someone who deserves you.” you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you considered his words. the path ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and obstacles. but as you looked into taehyung’s earnest eyes, you saw a glimmer of the person he was trying to become—a person you could perhaps have a future with, despite everything.

with a weary sigh, you nodded slowly. “alright,” you said, your voice soft but resolute. “but it’s not gonna be easy. it'll take time, and a lot of effort. are you ready for that?”

his face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination. “i’m ready,” he said, his voice steady. “i’ll do whatever it takes.” as you stood there, your heart still aching but with a newfound resolve, you knew that the road ahead would be difficult. as the weight of his words settled between you, a profound silence enveloped the both of you. it was a silence filled with the promise of change and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. your heart still ached from the day’s events, but there was a new flicker of hope in your chest, ignited by his earnest plea.

without a word, taehyung stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your face. his touch was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the coldness you had felt earlier. slowly, as if savoring the moment, he pulled you into his arms. the embrace was tender and full of emotion, his heart beating steadily against your own. you rested your head against his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing. the comforting pressure of his arms around you was a balm to your weary soul. the world outside seemed to blur into insignificance as you held each other, finding solace in the shared warmth.

taehyung’s grip tightened slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “thank you for giving me a chance. i promise i won’t let you down.” his words were a soft, heartfelt promise that echoed in the quiet space between you. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and hope. the depth of his feelings was reflected in his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace.

as if guided by an invisible force, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. the kiss was tender at first, a sweet exploration of the feelings you both had kept hidden. as the kiss deepened, it became a fierce declaration of the emotions that had been building between you. when you finally pulled away, breathless and with a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, his eyes shone with a mix of relief and affection. he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and tender.

from the edge of the path, where the shadows of the trees mingled with the late morning light, yoongi and jungkook watched the scene unfold. yoongi’s eyes were fixed on you, a look of sadness etched deeply into his features. his gaze held a mix of defeat and resignation as he observed the moment.

jungkook, standing beside him, broke the silence with a quiet observation. “damn, you must be bummed,” he said, his tone almost casual. yoongi shook his head, his expression softening with a resigned acceptance. “he beat me to it,” he replied quietly, his eyes never leaving you. “but it’s okay. she’s happy.”

despite the resignation in his voice, the sadness never fully left his eyes. as he watched you, his own heart seemed to bear the weight of what could have been.

✧.*

a/n: this was so corny bye i'd like to thank the heirs

cold case (미제 사건) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

in the quiet corridors of human thought, where shadows of philosophy and whispers of tradition intertwined, the concept of morality unfurled its intricate tapestry. once upon a time, in a world where the lines between right and wrong were delicately drawn by the hand of experience and belief, morality was more than a mere guide—it was a compass that directed the course of lives and shaped the destiny of societies.

in those days, moral philosophy emerged from the depths of contemplation, offering varied paths to discern the essence of good and evil. deontologists spoke of duty with a voice as steady as the unchanging stars, insisting that some actions were inherently right or wrong, irrespective of their outcomes. their moral landscape was marked by rules that stood like ancient pillars, unyielding in their presence. conversely, the consequentialists wandered a different terrain, where the terrain shifted with the tides of outcomes. to them, the morality of an action was painted by its results—an act was judged by whether it brought more happiness or less suffering. their ethics were a canvas of effects, where the final strokes determined the worth of every action.

in the gentle light of introspection, morality revealed itself as a complex and beautiful mosaic, guiding humanity through the labyrinth of life with wisdom and grace. each ethical theory, each moral rule, and each personal conviction contributed to a grand symphony of understanding, where the quest for distinguishing right from wrong continued to unfold with every choice and every action.

in the labyrinthine corridors of your childhood memories, the distinction between right and wrong was not always clear. as a young girl, you had often seen glimpses of your parents' secret lives—furtive conversations, hidden compartments in the house, and the occasional visitor who spoke in hushed tones. to you, these were nothing more than the quirks of a family that had its own peculiar ways. in your innocent eyes, every family had its secrets, and the clandestine nature of your parents' actions seemed like just another part of growing up.

you remembered vividly the sound of your parents' laughter echoing through the house, mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustling of crisp banknotes. it was a symphony of the life they led, a life that seemed vibrant and exciting. they spoke to you with a tenderness that belied the shadows lurking behind their smiles. their love for you was palpable, a warm embrace that seemed to protect you from the world’s harsher truths.

but as the years passed, the veil of innocence began to lift. the truth of your parents' double life slowly came into focus, revealing a stark reality. you learned that their involvement in the underground world of crime was not just a secret hobby but a consuming passion that eclipsed everything else. their love for you, though genuine, was overshadowed by their relentless pursuit of wealth and power. this pursuit, once cloaked in the guise of providing a better future, had ultimately led to their downfall.

as you sat alone in your room, you came across a broken-framed photograph of the three of you. the glass was cracked, and the edges of the frame were chipped, but the image within was still clear—a snapshot of a happier time. staring at that photograph, the weight of realization settled upon you like a shroud. you understood now that your parents' lives, while filled with moments of love and joy, were tainted by choices that led to their tragic end. their death was not a result of fate but of their unbridled greed and the dark paths they chose to walk.

it was in that moment of clarity, as you gazed at the broken photograph, that you fully comprehended the difference between right and wrong. the realization that their love was marred by their actions ignited a determination within you. you knew that the path you needed to take was one of integrity, justice, and righteousness. the shadows of your parents' lives would not define you; instead, you would forge a new legacy rooted in moral clarity and purpose.

determined to make a difference, you entered the police academy with a fierce resolve. the years spent there were a rigorous testament to your commitment. each day began before dawn, with physical training that tested your endurance and mental fortitude. the discipline of early mornings and grueling exercises sculpted your body and mind, preparing you for the challenges ahead.

in the classroom, you delved into the complexities of law and ethics, dissecting case studies and engaging in intense debates. your instructors imparted the knowledge and skills necessary to uphold justice, and you absorbed every lesson with a thirst for understanding. the theoretical aspects of criminal justice were balanced with practical exercises, where you simulated real-world scenarios, honing your investigative techniques and decision-making abilities. your fellow cadets became like family, bound together by shared struggles and aspirations. you formed lasting friendships forged in the fires of late-night study sessions and joint drills. the camaraderie was a source of strength and motivation, driving you to excel in both academics and fieldwork.

the graduation day arrived, a culmination of years of hard work and dedication. as you stood among your fellow graduates, clad in the uniform you had earned, the weight of the journey you had undertaken was both heavy and exhilarating. when your captain approached to congratulate the graduating class, you felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. each salute you offered was a testament to your commitment to justice, a silent vow to uphold the values you had come to cherish.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your newfound authority. your goal was to bring about the change you had envisioned—to be a beacon of hope in the complex, often shadowy world of law enforcement. the lessons learned from your past and the discipline honed in the academy had prepared you for the challenges that lay ahead. as you embarked on your journey as an officer, you carried with you the resolve to honor the ideals of justice and integrity, ensuring that your path would remain unwaveringly true.

as you stepped into the office for the first time, the familiar hum of activity greeted you. the room was bustling with the usual office clamor—phones ringing, papers rustling, and the murmurs of conversations. but as you approached your designated desk, a sense of unease quickly replaced your initial excitement.

your desk was positioned at the periphery of the room, a seemingly innocuous spot that did little to shield you from the stares of your new colleagues. the glances you received were not of welcome but of scrutinizing appraisal. the men who filled the office cast lingering, dismissive looks in your direction, their eyes saying more than their words ever could. it was clear that they were sizing you up, judging you not by your skills or qualifications but by your gender.

you didn't need to be an officer or possess any special insight to understand their thoughts. it was painfully evident that they underestimated you, their eyes reflecting a blend of skepticism and condescension. you loathed it, this patronizing attitude that seemed to seep through every glance and smirk. but you had learned long ago how to navigate such disdain. you knew that you were more than just flesh and blood, more than just a woman in a male-dominated field. you were a dedicated officer, and you refused to let their prejudices define you.

your resolve was tested almost immediately. a voice broke through the din of the office, sharp and mocking. “i sure hope you’re here to make us lunch,” one of the male officers said, his tone dripping with derision. his colleagues erupted into laughter, their mirth a jarring reminder of the chauvinistic attitudes that plagued your new workplace.

you didn’t flinch. instead, you fixed him with a steely gaze and replied, “i sure hope you’re okay with getting your ass beat.” the words were barely out of your mouth before you grabbed your stapler and, with a swift motion, hurled it towards him. it flew through the air with a precision that spoke volumes of your frustration and resolve.

the stapler struck him squarely on the side of his head. the room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the thud of the stapler hitting the floor. the officer, his face a mixture of shock and anger, glared at you. “you bitch,” he spat, advancing toward you with a menacing stride. but before he could reach you, an authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“it’s your first day, and you’re already asking to get fired.” you turned to see jeon jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. his uniform was impeccably neat, his posture rigid, and his expression a mask of stern professionalism. jungkook’s eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the room before settling on the offending officer. “you’re no better,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “you’re lucky she didn’t crack your head open.” his gaze lingered for a moment longer, an unspoken warning hanging in the air, before he turned and left the room with a decisive click of the door.

the moment jungkook departed, you felt the weight of his words and the chill of his gaze. it was clear that he was not just any superior officer but someone who commanded respect through his unwavering dedication and strict demeanor. his reprimand had carried with it an authority that seemed to freeze the air in the room. you turned back to your desk, the echoes of the confrontation still reverberating in your mind. the office had returned to its usual clamor, but the atmosphere had shifted. the mocking glances had lessened, replaced by a wary respect that had not been there before. you were already making a mark, even on your first day, and you knew that the path ahead would be paved with both challenges and triumphs.

sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and began to organize your workspace. the clutter of papers and office supplies seemed to reflect the chaos of the morning, but you approached it with a sense of purpose. this was your domain now, and you were determined to make it your own. as you set about your tasks, you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing upon you, but you remained resolute.

as you settled into your new role, the mountain of files and papers that awaited you seemed both daunting and strangely familiar. each document was a piece of the complex puzzle you were about to dive into, and you approached it with the meticulous attention to detail that had characterized your training. the room was a mosaic of activity, but your focus was anchored firmly on the paperwork before you. you organized the files into neat stacks, sorting through reports, case files, and memos with practiced efficiency. the air was filled with the rustle of paper and the occasional distant hum of conversation, a backdrop to your focused efforts. the scent of ink and paper was oddly comforting, a reminder of the countless hours you had spent in the academy honing your skills.

as you concentrated on cross-referencing details and updating case notes, you heard a voice break through the monotony. “don’t think too much about these assholes,” the voice said, warm and comforting despite the brashness of the comment.

you looked up from your work to see a man sitting across the room, his demeanor casual yet friendly. he had an easygoing smile that seemed to disarm the tension lingering in the office. you couldn’t help but scoff lightly. “i wasn’t planning to,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of defiance.

the man’s smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of easy confidence. “you’ve got a lot of patience,” he said, his tone genuinely admiring. “i’m jung hoseok, by the way.”

recognition flickered in your mind as you realized that hoseok was one of the cadets from the academy. you nodded with a smile. “i remember you. congratulations on graduating,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of sincere admiration.

hoseok’s smile grew even broader. “thanks. and congratulations to you too. i’ve heard you’ve made quite an impression already.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you. amidst the zoo of office dynamics, it was refreshing to encounter someone who seemed genuinely kind and approachable. his presence was a welcome contrast to the hostile undercurrents you had faced earlier.

he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “but i should warn you about jungkook.” you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” you asked, your tone curious but wary.

hoseok hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the door as if ensuring no one else could overhear. “nothing is more important to jungkook than work itself,” he said finally, his voice tinged with a note of caution. you shrugged slightly, considering his words. “there’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work,” you replied, trying to maintain an open mind.

hia expression grew serious, and he continued, “it’s not just dedication. there’s not a line jungkook won’t cross to get his work done.” his gaze met yours with a gravity that underscored the seriousness of his warning. you let his words sink in, the implication clear. jungkook’s dedication to his work was not merely a matter of professional pride but a driving force that could lead to unpredictable and potentially dangerous decisions. the silence that followed was heavy with contemplation. you considered the balance between dedication and ethics, between doing what was necessary and adhering to the principles that guided you.

hoseok’s warning lingered in your thoughts as you returned to your desk, your mind processing the implications of his words. the office buzzed around you, the normalcy of daily tasks juxtaposed against the undercurrents of tension and intrigue that marked your new environment. with a renewed sense of resolve, you continued with your work, aware of the complexities that lay ahead.

the evening air was crisp as you stepped out of the office building, eager for a moment of respite. the fading sunlight cast long shadows, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, and you welcomed the solitude as you approached your parked car. the comforting solitude of the parking lot offered a temporary escape from the whirlwind of office life, and you relished the chance to smoke in peace. you leaned against the cool metal of your car, pulling a cigarette from your pack with practiced ease. as you lit it and took your first drag, you glanced around, appreciating the brief silence that enveloped you. the soft crackle of the cigarette was a small solace amidst the hustle and bustle of your new role.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught a fleeting movement on the other side of the lot. you turned slightly to see jungkook, standing in the dimming light, lighting his own cigarette. the briefest of glances met your eyes before you quickly looked away, preferring the sanctuary of silence over the potential for awkward conversation. the distance between you was too great for meaningful exchange, and you were content to let the moment pass in unspoken acknowledgment.

you focused on your car, stepping forward to retrieve some files you had left on the seat. the familiar motion of opening the door and reaching inside provided a momentary distraction from the day's earlier events. with a sigh of relief, you closed the door, cigarette still perched between your lips. as you straightened, you looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

the man’s presence was jarring, his smirk exuding an air of menace. his eyes lingered on the sleek lines of your car with an almost predatory curiosity. “nice ride,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a threatening undertone. “mind if i take it for a spin?”

you didn’t react immediately, maintaining a calm exterior as your eyes scanned his demeanor. his hand shifted to lift the side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered at his hip. the glint of metal caught the waning light, a stark reminder of the danger he posed.

with a deliberate motion, you extinguished your cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and crushing it underfoot. the decision to act swiftly and decisively was driven by instinct and training. you pivoted toward the man, your movements fluid and practiced, and closed the distance between you. before he could react fully, you grabbed him by the collar and swung him against the side of your car. the impact was jarring, and he grunted in surprise as you pressed him firmly against the vehicle. your hands were steady as you reached for your cuffs, securing them around his wrists with a practiced efficiency.

as you tightened the cuffs, you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “i think i’m gonna take you for a spin first,” you whispered, your voice carrying a cold, authoritative edge. his initial shock turned into a flurry of thrashing and resistance, but your grip remained firm. you guided him with practiced control, maneuvering him through the parking lot toward the station. the scuffle drew the attention of a few passersby, but you paid them little mind, your focus solely on your captive and the path ahead.

throughout the entire ordeal, you felt jungkook’s eyes on you, a piercing gaze that never wavered. even as you moved with the man in tow, you could sense his silent observation, the intensity of his scrutiny adding an additional layer of pressure. his presence was like a constant shadow, a reminder of the complex dynamics at play within this new world you had entered.

you maneuvered the man roughly into one of the holding cells, the metal door slamming shut with a resonant clang. the cell’s interior was stark, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. the man’s protests filled the space, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls as he struggled against the cuffs. his anger and frustration were palpable, but you remained unmoved, your expression cool and detached as you observed him from outside the cell.

just then, the chief of the station strode into the area, his presence commanding immediate attention. his eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him, and he paused, clearly surprised by the commotion. “what’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.

you took a steadying breath, maintaining your composure as you explained the situation. “this man attempted to steal my car. he displayed a firearm, so i subdued him and brought him in.” you handed over the wrapped gun, its weight feeling significant in your hands. the tissue was slightly damp from handling, but you had wrapped it with care to avoid any fingerprints.

the chief’s eyebrows shot up in shock as he unwrapped the gun, his anger visibly rising. he turned to face the man, his voice now tinged with a harsh edge. “you’re in for a treat. you’ve got some nerve pulling this shit,” the chief’s gaze then shifted back to you, his expression softening into an approving smile. “i’ve got to hand it to you. it’s your first day, and you’ve already brought in a real asshole. not a bad start.”

a moment later, jungkook appeared, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he entered the room. his eyes flickered toward you briefly, registering your presence before he moved past. his gaze was focused and impassive, and his silence spoke volumes about his reserved nature.

you couldn’t resist the urge to address him, a trace of sarcasm slipping into your voice as you said, “thanks for the hand. so much for a dedicated officer.” jungkook paused for a split second, his head turning slightly to acknowledge your comment. his expression remained stoic, but his response was measured and direct. “looked like you had it under control,” he said simply before continuing on his way.

the brief exchange left a lingering tension in the air. you couldn’t deny the sting of his dismissive tone, but you also recognized the unspoken acknowledgment of your capability. it was a subtle reminder that while his focus was unwavering and his dedication to his work was undeniable, his interactions were often laced with a cool, distant demeanor.

the bar was dimly lit, with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses providing a comforting backdrop to the evening. the warm amber glow from the hanging lights cast a soft sheen over the polished wooden bar and the array of bottles that lined the shelves. you found a quiet corner, where the atmosphere felt more intimate, allowing you to unwind from the day's events.

hoseok was already there, sitting at the bar with a relaxed demeanor that contrasted sharply with the tension of the office. as you slid into the seat next to him, he greeted you with a warm smile and a nod. his presence seemed to exude a sense of calm, a welcome reprieve from the rigid formality of the police station.

he gestured to the bartender, who promptly set a cold beer before you. the chilled glass felt good in your hand, and you took a long sip, savoring the cool, crisp flavor. hoseok leaned back, his posture casual yet attentive as he regarded you with a look of genuine interest.

“so,” he began, his voice smooth and easygoing, “congratulations on your first day. not many rookies can say they’ve brought someone in so quickly. that’s impressive.”

you nodded, appreciative of his acknowledgment. “thanks, hoseok. it was a rough start, but it feels good to have made a difference.” he took a sip from his own glass, the beer foaming slightly as he did. “you handled it well,” he continued. “but there are a few people you should keep an eye on. jungkook might be dedicated, but he’s also known for pushing boundaries to get results. and then there’s the hierarchy in the department—some are more concerned with climbing the ranks than with actual justice.”

you listened carefully, absorbing his advice. the insights he shared painted a clearer picture of the dynamics at play within the precinct. “i appreciate the heads-up,” you said. “it’s good to know who i might need to watch out for.”

his expression softened as he looked at you, his gaze reassuring. “just remember to stay true to yourself. the job can be tough, but it’s important to keep your integrity intact. you’ve got the right spirit, and that’s what counts.” you took another sip of your beer, letting the conversation drift into the background as you allowed yourself a moment to relax. the atmosphere of the bar, combined with hoseok’s easy presence, created a sense of respite that you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

as the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally. hoseok spoke of his experiences, sharing anecdotes that brought a smile to your face. his storytelling was engaging, his voice rich with warmth and humor. there was an ease to his presence that made you feel at ease, a soothing balm for the frayed nerves of your first day.

when the time came to leave, he offered to walk you home. you accepted his offer with a grateful nod, appreciating the gesture. the night air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside, and the city’s lights cast a soft glow on the streets. hoseok’s company made the walk pleasant, his presence a comforting contrast to the challenges you had faced earlier.

as you made your way through the quiet streets, the conversation between you continued in a relaxed manner. his insights into the precinct and his easy demeanor made the walk enjoyable, a soothing end to a long day. the distance to your home felt shorter with his company, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with each step.

when you finally reached your front door, hoseok gave you a friendly smile. “well, this is where i leave you,” he said. “rest up. tomorrow’s another day, and i’m sure you’ll handle it just as well.” you thanked him sincerely, appreciating the support and camaraderie he had shown. as you watched him walk away, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. the night had provided a welcome break, and his presence had been a reminder that even in the most demanding of jobs, there were people who understood and offered genuine support.

the next morning, the precinct was a whirlwind of activity. papers were shuffled with frantic energy, phones rang incessantly, and officers moved briskly from one task to another. you found yourself buried under a mountain of paperwork, the endless stream of files and reports stacking up around you. your desk was a battleground of yellowed manila folders and scattered notes, each one demanding your attention.

just as you were deeply engrossed in sorting through a particularly complex file, the office door swung open. the chief entered, flanked by jungkook, whose presence immediately commanded attention. the room fell silent as the chief’s authoritative voice cut through the hum of activity. “everyone, give me your attention,” he announced.

you looked up, your gaze shifting to the chief and jungkook as they made their way toward your desk. the chief’s expression was serious, a hint of urgency in his eyes. he gestured for you and jungkook to follow him, and you both rose from your seats, curiosity piqued. the chief led you to his office, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of anticipation. once inside, he motioned for you and jungkook to take a seat across from his desk. he settled into his chair, his demeanor reflecting the gravity of the matter at hand.

as he opened a file, the chief began, “we’ve got a major case on our hands. this involves an underground mafia organization that’s been wreaking havoc across the city. their activities include drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and a number of violent crimes. we’ve managed to gather some intel, but we’re still missing key pieces.”

the chief’s words painted a grim picture of the criminal underworld, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. he detailed the mafia’s operations, their influence on various sectors, and their notorious ability to evade capture. the room was thick with tension as he laid out the scope of the problem.

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he continued, “and i need the best team on this. that’s why i’m assigning you both to this case. you’ll be working together to infiltrate the organization.”

jungkook’s expression shifted to one of discontent. he scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “you want me to work on a cold case with a rookie?” the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the air grew taut with his disdain. you met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “the case just might freeze if you’re the one on it,” you retorted sharply, your voice steady despite the tension.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed, ready to launch a rebuttal, but the chief intervened. “that’s enough,” he said firmly. “jungkook’s experience combined with your determination makes for a strong team. i’m confident that you both can handle this.”

turning his attention to you, the chief continued, “here’s what i have in mind: you two will go undercover as a couple. it’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to gain their trust and get the intel we need.”

the suggestion hit you like a cold wave. the thought of pretending to be involved in a relationship, with all the implications it carried, brought a flash of painful memories. you saw the ghostly image of your parents—their criminal entanglements, the secrets they harbored, and the tragic end that had defined your life. the prospect of immersing yourself in a false identity stirred up feelings of unease and internal conflict.

jungkook seemed to sense your hesitation but maintained his professional demeanor. he simply nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “fine,” he said, “but let’s make this clear—don’t fuck it up.”

the chief, satisfied with your acceptance, stood and dismissed you. “get prepared,” he said, “we’ll need to move quickly. i expect updates as soon as you have them.” as he left the office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. the task ahead was daunting, the stakes high, and the personal cost considerable. jungkook’s parting words echoed in your mind as he walked away, leaving you with a renewed sense of purpose mixed with a lingering apprehension.

the sun had begun to dip below the horizon when you and jungkook convened in the small, windowless meeting room of the precinct. the walls were lined with whiteboards scrawled with notes and diagrams, evidence of the case you were about to dive into. the room was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, almost clinical ambiance that seemed to fit the seriousness of the task ahead.

he had already spread out a series of case files and photographs on the long conference table. you approached, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. as you glanced over the materials, the weight of the operation settled in. the mafia’s structure, their operations, key players—every detail was crucial.

“alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open a file. “we need to understand their hierarchy and get close enough to gather intel.” jungkook nodded, but his eyes betrayed a hint of impatience. “we know that already. the real question is how we’re going to get in. we need to build trust, but we have to be careful not to blow our cover.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we’ve gone over this. we need to present ourselves as a couple who’s looking to get involved in their operations. it’s a risky move, but it’s our best shot.” jungkook leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the papers. “so, we’re just supposed to show up, act like we’re madly in love, and hope they let us in? it’s not that simple.”

the frustration in his voice was evident, and you couldn’t help but snap back. “well, if you have a better plan, i’m all ears. otherwise, we’re going with this.” his face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he responded sharply, “this isn’t gonna work if we can’t even pretend to like each other. you need to hate me a little less, or this whole thing is a waste of time.”

you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candor. “what do you mean, ‘hate you’? i don’t hate you.” his expression was a mix of surprise and annoyance. “everyone here either hates me or fears me. i’ve never met anyone who didn’t feel one of those things.”

you met his gaze firmly, your voice steady. “i have nothing to hate or be afraid of. i’m here to do a job, and that’s what matters.”

at your words, jungkook’s surprise shifted into something else—an unexpected, almost unsettling smile. it was brief but intense, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. you felt a shiver run down your spine, unsure of how to respond to the change in his demeanor.

clearing your throat, you forced yourself to refocus on the case. “so, let’s get back to it. how do we manage to get into their inner circle without raising suspicions?”

jungkook straightened, his professional mask back in place. “we need to establish a story that’s believable. if we’re going in as a couple, we need to make it convincing. they’ll want to see that we’re genuinely interested in their operations, not just posing for the sake of an investigation.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “right. we should start by researching the specific events they’re involved in. we need to find a way to approach them as potential investors or partners, something that makes us valuable to their operations.”

jungkook flipped through the files, pointing to a set of documents. “these are some of their recent deals and contacts. we can use this information to craft our backstory. maybe we should focus on a particular aspect of their business, like their money laundering operations. it’s a sensitive topic for them, and showing interest could get us closer.”

you leaned in, examining the documents he highlighted. “that makes sense. if we can convince them we’re serious about investing or collaborating, it might give us the leverage we need.” his gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained businesslike. “we should also work on our cover story—something that feels authentic. it has to be detailed enough to withstand scrutiny, but flexible enough to adapt as needed.”

as the conversation continued, the tension between you seemed to ebb and flow. the earlier friction had given way to a more collaborative atmosphere, though jungkook’s sharpness remained. the plan was forming, piece by piece, and despite the challenges, you felt a cautious optimism about the direction you were heading.

the room filled with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional murmur of discussion as you both delved deeper into the case. it was clear that working together would be fraught with difficulties, but there was a shared sense of purpose driving you forward. as you finalized the details of your plan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this partnership, however strained, would be pivotal to the success of the mission. with his experience and your determination, there was hope that you could navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and come out on the other side.

the two of you entered the chief’s office, the space exuding authority with its polished mahogany desk and high-backed leather chairs. the chief sat behind his desk, reviewing papers with a concentration that was almost palpable. his eyes flickered up as you and jungkook approached, and he gestured for you both to take a seat.

“so,” the chief began, his tone commanding, “what have you come up with?”

you cleared your throat, your nerves barely hidden behind a facade of calm professionalism. “we’ve reviewed the case files and cross-referenced them with known locations and events. it turns out some of the suspects frequently visit a particular club. our plan is to use that as our entry point. we’ll attend the club, make ourselves noticeable, and try to attract their attention.”

the chief raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “you seem quite familiar with this kind of operation. is that experience talking?”

the question struck a chord deep within you. you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight on your chest. memories of your parents—of their life entangled in crime and the fatal consequences of their choices—flooded your mind. you clenched your fists in your lap, struggling to maintain your composure. the weight of their actions and their ultimate fate bore down on you, leaving you speechless.

jungkook, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and turned to the chief. “so, is the plan good to go?” the chief nodded, still looking slightly taken aback. “yes, it’s approved. make sure you follow through meticulously.”

as you and jungkook prepared to leave the office, he leaned closer, his voice low. “the chief has a point. you seem to know a lot about these operations. it’s almost as if you’ve had firsthand experience.” you stopped in your tracks, the words hitting you harder than you expected. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a deep, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. jungkook’s observation was unsettlingly accurate, and you knew it was time to confront the shadows of your past.

turning to face him, you took a steadying breath. “i do have experience. my parents were involved in the underworld—running illegal operations, managing deals. they were deeply entrenched in the criminal world.”

jungkook’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief crossing his face. you continued, your voice steady but tinged with an emotional edge, “they were consumed by their greed, and it ultimately led to their deaths. i wanted to distance myself from their life and prove that i could be more than just their legacy. that’s why i became a police officer—to fight against the kind of world they lived in.” he remained silent, his expression a complex blend of empathy and confusion. his eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, as if searching for the right words or grappling with his own thoughts.

you felt the weight of his gaze and the burden of your past crashing down on you. with a final, lingering look, you turned and walked out of the chief’s office. each step you took echoed with the heaviness of your confession and the turmoil of your memories. you left jungkook behind, the silence between you now filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

that night, you prepared for the assignment with an unease that settled deep in your bones. the weight of your decision pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stared at yourself in the mirror. the apartment was filled with the cloying scent of perfume and the electric hum of makeup lights, casting a harsh glow that accentuated your tense expression.

you began the transformation, each movement deliberate and filled with a mix of apprehension and resolve. you started with your makeup, applying heavier layers than usual. the foundation was thick and flawless, masking the fatigue in your skin. you carefully blended eyeshadow into dark, sultry hues, drawing attention to your eyes with dramatic eyeliner. the lipstick you chose was a deep, daring red—an assertive statement you were determined to make.

next came the dress—a silver sheath that clung to your figure, sparkling under the dim lights of your bathroom. it was revealing, designed to captivate and command attention. the fabric felt cool and alien against your skin, every movement making the dress shimmer with a deceptive allure. you slipped on the matching high heels, their sharp, stiletto heels adding an extra edge to your demeanor.

as you looked at your reflection, you felt a pang of disconnection. the person staring back at you was a stranger, adorned in clothes that seemed to represent everything you weren’t—a stark contrast to your true self. the glamorous exterior was a necessary facade for the job, but it felt like a mask, concealing your true identity beneath layers of artifice. despite the discomfort, you steeled yourself. You had a mission to complete, and no amount of emotional turmoil would deter you.

the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered your thoughts, pulling you from your introspection. you took a deep breath and exited your apartment, the cold night air meeting you as you stepped out. there, beside his car, was jungkook.

when his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, clearly taken aback by your transformation. his gaze swept over you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. you felt a blush of self-consciousness as you met his eyes, his reaction a silent commentary on how different you looked. despite the initial shock, there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes—an acknowledgment of your effort.

you, too, were momentarily stunned by jungkook’s appearance. he stood beside his sleek car, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated his strong frame. his look was polished and sophisticated, contrasting sharply with your own provocative attire. the suit was a deep navy, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that added a touch of elegance to his ensemble. he looked every bit the part of a man who belonged in high society, and his presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

clearing your throat to mask your surprise, you asked, “are we good to go?” his expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “yes, we’re ready. let’s get going.”

he opened the car door for you with a chivalrous gesture, the smooth motion of the handle a stark contrast to the tension you felt. you slid into the car, the interior’s plush comfort a brief reprieve from the stress. jungkook closed the door behind you and took his place in the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as he navigated the streets towards the club. as the car glided through the night, you could not shake the feeling of being on the edge of something profound. the club’s lights were already visible in the distance, casting a neon glow against the night sky. you glanced at jungkook, noting his focused expression and the way he gripped the steering wheel.

the car rolled to a smooth stop outside the club, and as the engine’s hum faded, the scene before you emerged from the darkness. the club was a sprawling edifice of neon lights and shadowy corners, its façade a patchwork of flickering signs and half-hidden windows. the sign above the entrance, flashing in an intermittent crimson glow, read “la lune” in bold, cursive script. the letters seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched the bass-heavy thrum of music escaping from within.

jungkook glanced at you, his eyes betraying a hint of concern masked by his usual stoic demeanor. “are you ready?” you nodded, forcing a confident smile. “let’s do this.”

with that, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the entrance. jungkook gave you a curt nod before heading off to blend into the shadows, his own role in this operation beginning in earnest. the club’s bouncers gave you a cursory glance, their eyes barely flicking over you as they were more focused on the stream of patrons entering and exiting. you walked through the velvet-draped doorway and into the dimly lit interior, where the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume mingled in the air.

the club’s interior was a labyrinth of opulence and decadence. low, plush couches with black leather upholstery lined the walls, each surrounding low tables adorned with empty glasses and half-eaten plates of food. crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their multi-colored lights casting an otherworldly glow over the patrons. the dance floor was a pulsing sea of bodies, the crowd moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the pounding beat of the music that reverberated through the space. the walls were adorned with dark, abstract art that seemed to shift and swirl with the ever-changing lights.

you approached the bar, ordering a drink to help steady your nerves. the bartender, a burly man with a face that seemed permanently set in a scowl, slid a glass of something strong and smoky towards you. you took a deep sip, feeling the warmth spread through you as the liquor began to dull your apprehensions.

as you sipped your drink, you kept a watchful eye on the crowd. it wasn’t long before you noticed a group of men—shady and well-dressed—making their way to a semi-private area cordoned off by an almost transparent curtain. they moved with a sense of purpose, their body language exuding an air of authority and secrecy. Intrigued, you decided to follow.

the curtain parted slightly as you approached, and you slipped behind it, careful not to make any noise. you found yourself in a small, dimly lit room, sparsely furnished with a few plush chairs and a single pole set in the center. the men were gathered around, their conversation low but intense.

one of them, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of casual arrogance, noticed your presence. his gaze flicked over you with a mixture of surprise and interest. “if you’re as pretty as you seem, step out for us,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of condescension.

with a flick of your wrist, you let the curtain fall back and stepped into the room, the soft glow of the lights highlighting your silhouette. you walked confidently to the center of the room, where the men’s eyes were fixed on you. a smirk played on your lips as you adopted a flirtatious stance, feeling the weight of their gazes like a tangible pressure.

“good evening, gentlemen,” you purred, your voice dripping with charm as you approached them. you could feel the air shift as their attention intensified, their interest piqued by your boldness. one of the men, seated comfortably in a chair with an air of superiority, raised an eyebrow. “care to put on a show for us?” he asked, gesturing toward the pole.

you raised an eyebrow in response, a playful glint in your eye. “if that’s what you’d like,” you said, moving toward the pole with a graceful, deliberate sway.

you began to dance, your movements fluid and mesmerizing. you wrapped your body around the pole, performing with a practiced ease that drew appreciative murmurs from the men. the room was filled with the sound of your high heels clicking on the polished floor and the soft, rhythmic rustle of your dress. when you finished, you stepped away from the pole and approached the man who had made the initial request. you perched yourself on his lap, feeling his warm breath against your neck as you leaned in close. his hands instinctively went to your waist, and you let him savor the moment as he praised you with an approving nod.

“she’s a gem, isn’t she?” a voice said from behind you. both you and the man turned to see jungkook stepping out from the shadows, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. the sudden appearance of him, dressed in a sharp suit, added an unexpected layer to the encounter. the man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity as he regarded him. “and who might you be?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

jungkook exhaled a plume of smoke and took a seat on an empty couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “min woobin,” he said, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “this is my girlfriend, lee rachel.”

you leaned closer to the man, your breath hot against his ear. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. the man’s demeanor softened slightly, and he seemed genuinely intrigued. “so, what brings you both here?” he asked, his eyes flickering between you and jungkook.

jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before responding. “we’re here to do business. i’ve heard quite a bit about your operations, and we’re interested in learning more.” the man stiffened slightly at his words, his gaze shifting to you as you continued to maintain your intimate position on his lap. “you’d have to meet my boss,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

you trailed your fingers along his chest, your touch light and deliberate. “if he’s as handsome as you are,” you said with a flirtatious smile, “we just might be interested.” the man’s expression grew pleased, and he reached for your waist with a touch that bordered on possessive. you halted him with a click of your tongue, taking his hands and guiding them higher, just above your thighs.

“only if you let us meet him,” you said, your voice low and commanding. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise as he watched the interaction unfold, but the man, undeterred, nodded in agreement. “alright,” he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “i’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

as you and jungkook followed the group of men away from the club, you could feel a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air, a quiet anticipation that prickled at your skin. the men led you through a maze of streets, their steps confident and purposeful. the cityscape blurred into a dark tapestry of neon lights and shadowy alleyways as you climbed into the back of a sleek black car, its windows tinted to an opaque darkness.

jungkook settled beside you, the soft hum of the engine providing a low, rhythmic backdrop to the night’s proceedings. he glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re playing your role well,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place. the subtle shift in his tone left you with a sense of unease, but you smiled back at him, determined to stay in character.

“thanks, woobin,” you replied, your voice smooth and confident. the car glided through the city streets, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly, the city lights outside shifting from bright and vibrant to dim and foreboding. as the vehicle took a final turn into a narrow, secluded road, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. the buildings were older, their facades grimy and weathered, creating a stark contrast to the more polished areas you had passed through.

the car stopped in front of an unassuming warehouse, its exterior nondescript except for a small, barely visible sign that read “apex distribution.” the men exited the vehicle first, holding the door open for you and jungkook as you followed them inside. the interior was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently. the space was vast and industrial, filled with crates and metal shelving units that cast long, ominous shadows across the concrete floor. the air was heavy with the scent of dampness and rust.

you and jungkook were guided through a series of hallways and staircases, each step echoing in the quiet, oppressive atmosphere. the corridors seemed to go on forever, their walls adorned with faded, peeling posters and graffiti that hinted at the warehouse’s grimy history. finally, the group reached a large, reinforced door. one of the men knocked in a specific pattern, and the door creaked open, revealing a room that contrasted sharply with the warehouse’s exterior.

the room was lit by dim, yellowing lights, casting a harsh, almost sickly glow over its contents. the space was a makeshift arena, its center dominated by a large, circular platform surrounded by a motley assortment of chairs and benches. the walls were lined with various weapons and tools, their purposes unclear but intimidating. a large, imposing man sat at the center of it all, his presence exuding an air of authority and menace.

the men bowed as they approached, their voices low as they informed the boss of the potential recruits. the boss, a man with a heavyset build and a face marked by years of hard living, regarded you and jungkook with a steely gaze. his eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through you as he assessed the situation.

“you must be lee rachel and min woobin,” he said, his voice gravelly and commanding. you nodded, keeping your composure. “that’s right.”

the boss raised an eyebrow. “are you two dating?” you exchanged a brief glance before affirming, “yes.”

“are you serious about joining?” he asked, his tone firm and scrutinizing. jungkook responded with a decisive nod. “yes.”

the boss leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “prove it.”

the simple command caused a ripple of unease between you and jungkook. the atmosphere shifted, the tension palpable as you tried to gauge the meaning behind his words. the boss’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady and unwavering. you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “how?”

the boss shrugged nonchalantly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “you seem like a happy couple. let’s see if joining means more to you than your relationship.”

the words hung in the air, their implications sending a shiver down your spine. the men surrounding you and jungkook began to clear a path, dragging you both towards the center of the room. your heart raced as you looked around, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. the boss’s men moved with purpose, setting up an impromptu arena. you and jungkook were directed to opposite sides, and gloves were handed to both of you—heavy, black leather that felt oddly cold against your skin. the sense of dread grew as the realization of what was about to unfold hit you.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. the boss’s eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light. he took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a plume of smoke. “make each other bleed.”

the command was delivered with an unsettling calmness that only added to the intensity of the moment. the men around you watched with a mix of anticipation and approval, their eyes following every movement with rapt attention. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of shock, but he quickly masked it with a steely resolve. he glanced at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. the weight of the boss’s challenge settled heavily on both of you, the tension in the room thickening as the reality of the situation sank in.

“prove it,” the boss repeated, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence that followed his declaration.

you and jungkook stood in the center of the arena, the gloves tight on your hands. the noise of the crowd faded into the background as you focused on each other, the enormity of the situation pressing in on you. this was not just a test of physical endurance but a trial of your commitment to the cause and to each other.

you met jungkook’s eyes across the makeshift arena, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze. there was a hesitation there, a flicker of reluctance that spoke volumes. his eyes, usually so firm and resolute, now held an apologetic edge that made your heart ache. the silent communication between you was almost palpable, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern. you nodded, the decision burning through you despite the pain it was causing. “i’m sure.”

the look of regret in his eyes was almost too much to bear. but there was no turning back now. the boss’s eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as he watched the exchange, his anticipation evident as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the action to unfold.

the fight began with a sudden burst of energy, both of you moving with a blend of calculated aggression and reluctant restraint. jungkook’s punches were sharp and precise, his movements swift and fluid. you countered with equal intensity, each strike met with a determined resolve to prove your worth. the air was filled with the sharp, jarring sounds of flesh against flesh, each impact reverberating through the arena.

you could feel the sting of pain with every blow, the force of jungkook’s punches causing your muscles to ache and your breath to catch. blood began to mix with sweat, streaking down your face and staining your clothes. the once pristine floor was becoming a grim tableau of bruises and blood, each mark a testament to the ferocity of your struggle.

jungkook's face was a mask of concentration, his expression shifting between resolve and regret as he landed hit after hit. you retaliated with just as much fervor, your punches landing with a satisfying thud as you fought to maintain your ground. the fight was a brutal dance, each move a testament to your determination and unwillingness to back down. the battle continued, each strike leaving a trail of pain and fatigue. both of you were breathing heavily, your movements becoming more sluggish as the minutes wore on. blood mixed with sweat, soaking through your clothes and creating a slippery, crimson sheen on the arena floor. the grunts and gasps of exertion filled the space, punctuated by the occasional groan of pain.

eventually, the intensity of the fight began to take its toll. both of you were staggering, your energy waning as exhaustion set in. you stumbled, falling to the ground beside jungkook, your body aching with the cumulative effects of the fight. the floor was unforgiving, the cold concrete pressing against your bruised and battered skin. despite the pain, you forced yourself to stand, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm you. jungkook was in a similar state, his face smeared with blood and sweat, his movements unsteady. you both faced each other, each breath labored and heavy, the fight leaving its mark on both of you.

as you struggled to regain your footing, the boss’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “i’ve seen enough.”

the words brought a moment of trepidation. you exchanged worried glances with jungkook, the uncertainty of the boss’s statement hanging in the air. the men around the arena shifted, their expressions unreadable as they awaited the boss’s final verdict. the boss’s gaze was fixed on you and jungkook, his expression inscrutable. he paused, letting the silence stretch, the tension palpable as you waited for his decision. finally, he broke the silence with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“welcome aboard,” he said, his voice carrying a cold finality.

relief washed over you, mingling with the pain and exhaustion that had become a part of you. you looked at jungkook, who was staring at you with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. despite the bruises and blood, there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. the men around you began to move, their demeanor shifting from anticipation to approval. the boss’s words had sealed your place, and as the arena cleared, you and jungkook were left standing amid the aftermath of your brutal test. the fight had been a grueling ordeal, but it had served its purpose, proving your resolve and determination.

in the dimly lit room, you tended to your wounds with a focused, practiced precision. the light from the single lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating your silhouette as you worked. the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and antiseptic, creating a heavy atmosphere that mirrored the intensity of the fight you had just endured.

you stood in front of the mirror, your shirt discarded, leaving you in just a pair of underwear and a loose shirt. the room was small but functional, with a modest bed and a few scattered belongings that gave it a lived-in feel. as you methodically wrapped a bandage around your waist, you could feel jungkook’s gaze on you, his eyes tracking your every movement with a mixture of concern and something more.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his own wounds treated but still fresh. his eyes were drawn to you, and though he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn't help but take in the sight of you, so focused and composed despite the pain.

“i didn’t expect you to hit so hard,” he said, breaking the silence. there was a hint of admiration in his voice, though it was tinged with the discomfort of knowing just how hard you had fought. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “could say the same to you.”

the exchange was light, but the air was thick with an undercurrent of something unspoken. as you finished wrapping the bandage around your waist, you moved to tend to his injuries. he stood still, watching as you approached him, your movements fluid and deliberate. his gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you moved with a mix of tenderness and professionalism, your big shirt barely covering your figure.

you smiled at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move. “don’t even dream about it,” you said, your tone teasing. he scoffed, but there was a softness in his eyes that belied his attempt to appear indifferent. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you leaned in close to him, your face mere inches from his, and his breath caught in his throat. the proximity was charged with a palpable tension, his body tensing as if bracing for something more. your breath mingled with his, the heat of the moment making your pulse quicken. but before he could react, you pulled away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“your forehead’s bleeding,” you said, gently wiping away the blood with a piece of cloth. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sarcasm. “my savior,” he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence.

you continued to clean his wound, the act both intimate and professional. each touch was deliberate, your fingers brushing against his skin with a careful precision. the contrast between your soft, gentle care and the roughness of the fight was stark, creating a moment of connection amidst the chaos. as you finished, you met his gaze once more, the teasing smile lingering on your lips. the air between you was charged, the earlier tension now replaced with a different kind of intensity. jungkook’s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something more, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between you during the fight.

the days and nights in the mafia compound blended together, each one a test of your will and resolve. every time you emerged from your shared room with jungkook, the world outside seemed a little darker, the people a little more dangerous. but something else changed too—something subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. the more time you spent with him in this underworld, the closer you became.

at first, the closeness was purely practical. you needed to rely on each other to survive, to navigate the twisted labyrinth of the mafia’s inner workings. conversations began as cold, clipped exchanges of necessary information—strategies for gaining the trust of the men around you, plans for your next steps, analyzing every word and action of those who held power over you. but as the days passed, those exchanges grew warmer, more layered with unspoken understanding. the subtle nuances of your interactions began to shift. when you spoke to him, it wasn’t just about the mission anymore—it was about something deeper, something that neither of you could quite name.

one evening, you found yourselves sitting side by side on the small bed in your room, the low hum of the compound's activity filtering through the thin walls. jungkook was leaning against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought. you were beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, yet there was still a small distance between you—both physical and emotional. “the big deal with the weapons shipment’s soon,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “we need to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

jungkook nodded, his expression serious. “i know. but i’ve been thinking, if things go wrong, we need a backup plan.” you turned to him, studying his profile. the sharp lines of his face were softened by the dim light, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “what are you suggesting?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“if it gets too dangerous, we pull out. no heroics,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “i’m not risking your life for this.”

the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt a flicker of something warm in your chest—something that had been growing, slowly, over the weeks you had spent together. You weren’t sure what it was, but it made you want to trust him more than you ever had before.

“i’m not risking your life either,” you replied, your voice just as firm. “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

he looked at you for a long moment, as if searching your eyes for something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled—a small, soft curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. it was a rare sight, one that you had only seen a handful of times, and each time it felt like a gift. the silence between you grew comfortable, the tension that had always simmered beneath the surface beginning to ease. you could feel the shift in the air, the way your bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other, closing the small distance that remained.

as the night wore on, you found yourselves talking more, the conversation flowing easier than it ever had before. it was still about the mission, but there were small moments of vulnerability woven into your words—tiny glimpses into the people you were behind the facades you wore for the mafia. “you know,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, “when we first started this, i didn’t think we’d make it this far. i thought Ii’d end up getting us both killed.”

“you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you replied, your tone equally gentle. “you’ve kept us alive, and more than that—you’ve kept us sane.” he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “you’ve been keeping me sane too, you know.” the admission hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say. you simply sat there, side by side, in a quiet understanding that was more powerful than any words you could have spoken.

as the days continued, those moments of quiet closeness became more frequent. you found yourself seeking out his presence whenever you could, whether it was during a tense meeting with the mafia bosses or a rare moment of downtime in your room. and he did the same—he gravitated toward you, his presence a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaos of your surroundings. there were nights when you would find yourselves sitting on the floor of your room, sharing a bottle of whiskey you had stolen from the compound’s stash. the alcohol would loosen your tongues, and the conversations would drift from the mission to more personal topics—your pasts, your fears, your dreams for a life beyond the mafia.

one such night, jungkook leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the ceiling. “you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?” he asked, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. you took a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down your throat. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but it’s hard to picture a life outside of this. i’ve been doing this for so long, i don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “yeah, i get that. but, i don’t know, i like to think there’s something better waiting for us. aomething peaceful.” you turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “you really think we’ll find peace?”

he met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “if we make it out of this alive, i’ll do everything i can to find it. for both of us.” his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. you felt a surge of emotion that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time—hope. it was fragile and fleeting, but it was there, flickering in your chest like a tiny flame.

the nights grew colder as the days passed, and you found yourselves huddling closer together for warmth. it was an unspoken agreement—neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you pulled away. when the silence between you stretched on, it was no longer uncomfortable, but rather a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary. there were moments when you caught yourself watching him, studying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he plotted your next move, or the way his jaw clenched when he was frustrated. and sometimes, you would catch him watching you too, his gaze soft and unreadable, as if he was trying to decipher the puzzle that was you.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourselves in the small, makeshift kitchen of the compound, the room dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. you were both exhausted, your bodies aching from the physical and emotional toll of the day. jungkook was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you rummage through the sparse supplies. “we’ve got nothing but instant ramen,” you said, holding up a pack with a grimace. “again.”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement despite the fatigue etched into his features. “better than nothing, i guess.” you sighed, tearing open the pack and setting a pot of water to boil. as you waited, the silence between you grew, but it was no longer the heavy, tension-filled quiet of before. it was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like an old friend. when the ramen was finally ready, you split it between two bowls and handed one to jungkook. he took it with a nod of thanks, and the two of you sat down at the small table, eating in companionable silence.

after a while, he set down his bowl, his expression contemplative. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d say this, but i don’t mind this. being here, with you.” you looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “really?”

he nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. i mean, it’s not ideal, obviously. but, i’ve been through worse, and i’ve never had someone to go through it with before. it makes a difference.” his words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions that you had long buried. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought i’d trust someone like this again. but with you, it’s different.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out, bridge the small gap between you. but instead, he simply nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

the days passed, each one bringing you closer together in ways you hadn’t anticipated. the connection between you grew, deepened, becoming something more than just the partnership you had started with. it was subtle, unspoken, but it was there—an undercurrent of understanding and shared experience that bound you together in ways you couldn’t explain.

the night had settled in, wrapping the compound in a blanket of darkness and silence. you were in your shared room with jungkook, the dim light from a small lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. the two of you were sitting at the small table in the corner, finishing up the remnants of a late-night meal, the conversation quiet but comfortable. as you were about to clear the dishes, your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. you glanced at the name flashing on the screen—hoseok.

you hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear. “hey,” you greeted, your voice soft. “hey,” hoseok’s familiar voice came through, warm and slightly concerned. “are you okay? i haven’t heard from you in a while.”

you smiled, the sound of his voice bringing a sense of comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing. “i’m okay. things have been intense, but i’m managing.”

“is he being nice?” hoseok asked, his tone light but with a hint of protectiveness that made you smile. you glanced over at jungkook, who was watching you with a curious expression. “yeah, he’s being nice,” you assured, your tone teasing. “no need to worry.”

jungkook’s eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you as he continued to eat. hoseok chuckled on the other end of the line. “good. i’d hate to have to come over there and straighten him out.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i appreciate the concern, but I think i’ve got it under control.”

there was a brief pause on the other end before hoseok spoke again, his tone more casual. “when you’re back, how about we grab a drink? just to catch up.” you felt a warm, comforting feeling spread through you at the thought. “i’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft.

“great,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “take care of yourself, alright? i’ll see you when you’re back.” you replied softly, “you too, okay? see you soon.”

you ended the call, setting the phone down on the table. when you looked up, you saw jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “who was that?” he asked, his voice even but with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. “hoseok,” you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

jungkook scoffed, a short, disbelieving sound that made you pause. you turned to look at him more closely, frowning slightly. “what’s your problem?” you asked, your tone more curious than accusatory. “nothing,” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes darting away from yours.

you tilted your head, studying him. “sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” he didn’t respond, just continued eating, though his movements were more tense, less relaxed than they had been before the call. you decided to brush it off, not wanting to push him on it. “alright, whatever you say,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the dishes. but as you moved around the small room, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent tension hanging in the air between you. it was unlike him to be so off, and it left you feeling uneasy, unsure of what was really going on in his head.

for jungkook, however, the moment you mentioned hoseok’s name, something had shifted inside him. it wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself—but rather an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. he didn’t like the idea of you with someone else, especially not someone like hoseok, who was always so damn cheerful and easy to get along with. it bugged him more than it should have, the way you smiled while talking to him, the way your voice softened just a little when you mentioned grabbing a drink with him. he tried to shake it off, telling himself it didn’t matter, that it was none of his business who you spent your time with. but the truth was, it did matter. it mattered more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

as he sat there, pretending to focus on his meal, his mind kept drifting back to the way you had laughed with hoseok, the way your eyes had lit up at the prospect of seeing him again. it gnawed at him, the thought of you with someone else, and he couldn’t understand why. you were just his partner in this twisted game, nothing more. you had each other’s backs, sure, but that was out of necessity, not anything deeper. at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

the heavy thud of your fists against the boxing bag echoed through the training room, the sound rhythmic and intense, almost drowning out the rest of the world. your body moved with precision and power, every punch and jab a release of pent-up frustration. sweat poured down your face, your muscles burned, but you pushed on, driven by something deep inside that wouldn’t let you stop.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts, your knuckles aching as they connected with the leather of the bag. you had been at it for what felt like hours, lost in the rhythm, in the need to keep moving, to keep fighting. it was your way of coping, of trying to find some semblance of control in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of your grasp.

the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulbs that cast a faint glow over the equipment. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of your fists striking the bag, your grunts of effort the only noise breaking the silence. when you finally stopped, your chest heaving with exertion, you stepped back and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. your body ached, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made you feel alive, grounded.

you glanced around the empty training room, taking a moment to catch your breath before deciding it was time to call it a night. you made your way to the changing rooms, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. the changing room was deserted, as you expected at this hour. you peeled off your sweat-soaked clothes, your muscles protesting with every movement, and stepped into the shower. the hot water cascaded over your sore body, washing away the sweat and tension, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to let the steam envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

but as you stepped out of the shower, the warm water still clinging to your skin, you froze. standing in the doorway of the changing room was a young man, someone you recognized from the boss’s inner circle. his eyes raked over you with a smirk that made your stomach churn with dread. “what the hell are you doing in here?” you demanded, clutching your towel tightly around your body, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

he didn’t respond immediately, just took a step closer, his smirk widening. “i know where i am,” he said casually, his voice dripping with arrogance. you felt a surge of panic, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to approach you. your feet seemed glued to the spot, your body frozen with fear as he reached out and trailed a finger down your neck, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his hand moved to the hem of your towel, tugging at it with a cruel smile. “if you’re as smart as you seem,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “you’ll stay quiet. it’ll hurt a lot less.” tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the towel desperately, every fiber of your being screaming at you to move, to fight back, but your body refused to obey. you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the strength to break free, to do anything to get away from him.

but before you could react, the pressure of his hand on your towel was gone, and there was a sudden, violent crash. you opened your eyes to see jungkook, his face twisted in a rage you had never seen before, slamming the man against the lockers. the sound of metal denting under the force echoed through the room as he delivered punch after punch, each one filled with a fury that left you paralyzed. the man crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from his nose, his smirk long gone, replaced by a look of terror. jungkook didn’t stop until the man was barely conscious, his body limp and defenseless.

when it was over, jungkook turned to you, his chest heaving, his hands still clenched into fists. the anger in his eyes softened as he saw you standing there, trembling and tearful, and he crossed the distance between you in an instant. he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you finally broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hand stroked your wet hair gently, his voice soothing as he whispered, “it’s okay. you’re safe. i’ve got you.” he adjusted your towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around you, before pulling you even closer, his grip on you protective, as if he could shield you from everything in the world that could hurt you.

it took several minutes before your sobs quieted, your breath coming in shaky gasps. when you finally pulled back, jungkook’s eyes were filled with concern, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. you nodded, still trembling, as you moved to get dressed. your hands were shaky, fumbling with your clothes as you tried to regain some semblance of control. the fear lingered, a cold, unshakable presence that had settled deep in your chest.

he watched you, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled to pull on your clothes. once you were dressed, he grabbed a towel and began drying your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that had been forged in the heat of the moment.

as he dried your hair, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch, by the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. when he was finished, you turned to him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

he frowned, his jaw tightening. “i should’ve killed him on the spot,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. you shook your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “no, you would’ve lost your job,” you said softly, pausing before adding with a weak attempt at a smile, “you wouldn’t get to be my fake boyfriend anymore.” the tension in the room thickened, the words hanging in the air between you. his eyes darkened, his expression serious as he studied your face.

“i don’t think i wanna be your fake boyfriend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

fear gripped you again, but this time it wasn’t the fear of the man who had just threatened you. it was the fear of losing jungkook, of him being disgusted by what had just happened, or maybe disappointed in you for not fighting back harder. your mind raced, jumping to the worst conclusions. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible, dreading the answer.

he didn’t respond immediately. instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. his touch was warm, comforting, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, when you found yourself leaning into him instead, he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. every lingering fear, every doubt, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being held by someone who truly cared.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same vulnerability you felt, the same desire to be something more than just partners in this dangerous game.

you nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile breaking through the fear that had gripped you for so long. “neither do i,” you whispered back. you stood there, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, but now it was for a different reason. jungkook’s words hung in the air between you, and the warmth of his breath still lingered on your lips, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had just shared. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you knew there was no going back.

without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you once more. this time, when your lips met his, there was no hesitation. the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of all the emotions that had been building up inside you for so long. you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made you feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

as the kiss deepened, a sense of dread that had been gnawing at you all night began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. it was as if every bad thing, every fear, every moment of uncertainty that had plagued you was being washed away in the heat of his embrace. with him, you felt safe, protected, as though nothing else in the world mattered. the training room, the locker room, the man who had just tried to violate you—everything faded into the background until all that was left was jungkook and the way he made you feel.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands slid up your back, holding you like you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness that surrounded your lives.

but then, he pulled back just slightly, enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon.”

you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish. “it’s not,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “it’s not too soon, jungkook. i don’t know if we’ll even be alive tomorrow, and i don’t wanna waste another second.”

his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—desire, fear, something more—but he didn’t hesitate. he closed the distance between you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was even hotter, even more consuming than the last. there was a desperation in the way you both kissed, as if you were trying to pour everything you felt into this one moment, as if the world might end at any second and all that would be left was this—this connection, this fire that burned between you.

his hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your sides, his touch sending shivers down your spine. every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, made you feel more alive than you had in a long time. it was as if all the fear, all the darkness that had been clouding your mind was being driven out by the sheer intensity of what you were sharing with him. you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. the world around you ceased to exist; there was only him and the way he made you feel like you could survive anything as long as he was by your side.

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he held you close. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “not as long as i’m alive.” you smiled softly, your hands trembling slightly as they caressed his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i believe you,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his grip on you tightened just a fraction more, as if he was afraid to let go.

his hands began to explore again, sliding down to your waist, then up to your chest. he cupped one of your tits gently, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch. the heat between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that demanded more. he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until you were moaning softly. the sensation was too much, a beautiful contrast to the harsh reality that had been your world for so long.

his hand slid down, toying with the string of your sweatpants. you stepped back slightly, allowing him to pull them down, along with your panties, until you were standing before him in nothing but your shirt. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that made you feel exposed and desired all at once. you could feel yourself practically dripping at the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making it difficult to stand still. but you could't hold back, not with the foreign, hungry look in his eyes.

your hand trembled as it dropped down to his pants. you could see how hard he was through the soft, grey fabric, but seeing it wasn't enough. you wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he made you feel. his fingers rubbed at your clit almost too gently, dipping into the sweet wetness as you fumbled with his boxers.

finally, you managed to free his cock, and you couldn't help but stare at it. it was beautiful, thick and veiny, standing proud and ready. jungkook groaned as you wrapped your hand around it, your grip firm but tentative. he leaned back into the chair, eyes closed, as you began to stroke him, your movements growing more confident with each stroke. you wanted to remember every inch of him, every detail, so you could replay it in your mind when you were apart.

his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours again. “ are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. you didn't answer with words. instead, you dropped to your knees and took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. you heard him suck in a sharp breath as you began to suck, taking him deep and swirling your tongue around the tip. you felt empowered, in control, as he squirmed in the chair. your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently as you took more of him in, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head.

his grip tightened in your hair as he began to thrust, fucking your mouth with a gentle force that had you gagging slightly. you didn't care, you liked it rough, liked the way he was claiming you, even if it was just your mouth for now. you felt your pussy clench, desperate for his touch. “fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, “you're so good at that.”

his praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his cock. you could feel his thighs tense, his body coiling as he approached climax. his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing furiously as you sucked him off, needing your own release to match his. just as you felt the beginnings of your own orgasm, he pulled you up, your mouth slipping off his cock with an obscene pop. “gotta cum inside you,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent.

you nodded, too overwhelmed by desire to speak. he stood, lifting you and pressing your back against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. without another word, he slammed into you, the wall rocking with the force of his thrusts. you threw your head back, the cold metal of the wall pressing into your spine as he claimed you, his hips slamming against yours. it was everything you had dreamed of and more, the reality of having him inside you so much better than the fantasy.

you could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo. “yes, fuck, harder,” you moaned, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. jungkook complied, his strokes growing more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys that would be a secret testament to your passionate encounter. the pain only added to your pleasure, making you want him even more.

you came with a scream, your body tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. jungkook followed quickly, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his warm cum. you felt him collapse against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. for a moment, you just stayed there, his cock still inside you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. the reality of what had just happened washed over you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and a little bit scared of the feelings that had been unleashed. but for now, all that mattered was the afterglow, the feeling of his warmth and the sticky evidence of your passion drying on your skin.

you knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance, one that would have consequences that neither of you could predict. but in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, basking in the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. his mouth found yours again, and the kiss was gentle this time, filled with something deeper than lust. it was a promise, an unspoken vow that you would navigate this dangerous world together, come hell or high water.

the night was quiet, a gentle hum of the city outside the window barely breaking the silence that filled your shared room. you lay beside jungkook, your body clad only in his oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers. his strong arms were wrapped protectively around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world with just his embrace. the warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. you felt safe there, cocooned in his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t regret a thing.

as you drifted off to sleep, your head nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it was a reassuring sound, grounding you, reminding you that, at least for tonight, you weren’t alone. the weight of his arm across your waist anchored you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, your breathing slowly syncing with his. the world outside, with all its dangers and uncertainties, faded into the background as you let yourself be lulled into a peaceful sleep, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in his embrace.

when you woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked sleepily, momentarily disoriented, before realizing where you were—still in jungkook’s arms, his grip on you as secure as it had been the night before. you tilted your head slightly to look at him, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense expression relaxed. there was something peaceful about the way he looked, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

a tender smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. he stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his arms tightening around you for just a moment before relaxing again. you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to disturb him, and quietly slipped out of bed. as you dressed in your usual training gear, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, still sleeping soundly, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight. you didn’t know what the day would bring, but at least for now, you felt a sense of contentment that had been absent from your life for far too long.

the training room was nearly deserted when you arrived, the early hour ensuring you were alone. you welcomed the solitude, the chance to clear your mind before the day began in earnest. the familiar sound of your fists connecting with the heavy bag echoed in the otherwise silent room, the repetitive motion calming you, giving you something tangible to focus on.

but as you trained, your mind drifted back to the previous night, to the feel of jungkook’s lips on yours, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. a shiver ran down your spine at the memory, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. would things change between you? would it complicate your already dangerous situation? you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no point in worrying about the future when you could barely manage the present.

your focus was broken by the sound of the door to the training room opening. you glanced over your shoulder to see a girl, probably more than a couple definite years younger than you, hesitantly stepping inside. she looked almost out of place there, her small frame and nervous demeanor starkly contrasting with the rough men you usually saw training. her eyes darted around the room, as if she were expecting trouble, and when they landed on the punching bag, she seemed to steel herself.

your heart sank as you watched her approach the bag, her movements awkward and unsure. ahe threw a punch, but it was weak, barely making the bag sway. laughter erupted from a group of men watching her from the corner, their mockery harsh and biting. the girl flinched, her face flushing with embarrassment as she tried again, her fists connecting with the bag in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

you couldn’t just stand by and watch her struggle. something inside you stirred—maybe it was a protective instinct, or maybe it was just the memory of being in her shoes once, but you found yourself walking over to her, ignoring the jeers from the men. as you approached, she looked up at you with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression.

“you’re holding your stance all wrong,” you said gently, stepping up beside her. she looked at you, her brow furrowing in confusion, but you offered her a reassuring smile. “here, let me show you.”

you placed your hands on her shoulders, adjusting her posture, guiding her to position her feet correctly. she was tense under your touch, her nervousness palpable, but she didn’t pull away. you showed her how to properly throw a punch, how to put her weight behind it, how to channel her strength into each movement. as she tried again, this time with your guidance, the punch was more solid, the bag swaying slightly with the force of it.

“there you go,” you encouraged, stepping back to give her space. she tried again, and this time the punch was even stronger, more confident. the laughter from the men faded as they realized she was improving, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her determination.

the girl looked up at you, a small, tentative smile on her face, and your heart ached at the sight. she was so young, so innocent in some ways, and yet here she was, trying to survive in a world that would chew her up and spit her out without a second thought. you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like her had ended up in a place like this.

“thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, returning her smile. “keep practicing,” you told her, your tone encouraging. “you’ll get the hang of it.” she nodded, her smile growing a little more confident, and you turned to head toward the locker room. but as you reached the door, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i never thought i’d find you.”

you froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. slowly, you turned back to face her, confusion and disbelief warring within you. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice shaky, uncertain.

she took a hesitant step toward you, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “mom and dad, they told me i had a sister. but i never got to see what kind of life you had.”

the world tilted on its axis, and you felt as if the ground had just been ripped out from under you. a sister? you had a sister? your mind raced, trying to make sense of her words, but it was as if your thoughts were stuck in quicksand, the more you tried to grasp them, the more they slipped away. you had never known you had a sister—let alone one who had been raised in this underground world.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped off the doorknob until you heard the sound of glass shattering. you looked down in a daze, seeing the shards of the glass you had dropped scattered across the floor. but the glass wasn’t what held your attention—it was the way your hands were trembling, the way your heart was racing in your chest, the sheer disbelief and confusion that had taken hold of you.

the girl took another step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “(y/n) (l/n),” she said quietly, and your heart dropped into your stomach. you sank to your knees, the weight of her words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless.

she was your sister. she had to be. there was no other explanation for the way your name had fallen from her lips, no other reason why she would be looking at you with such hope, such familiarity. but it didn’t make sense—it couldn’t make sense. you had been alone your whole life, always fighting to survive, never knowing you had someone out there, someone who was a part of you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. all you could do was look at her, at the beautiful, young girl standing before you, at the innocence that had been so clearly marred by the darkness of this world. she looked at you with tears in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a hug.

the warmth of her embrace was foreign, yet strangely comforting. you felt the tears begin to blur your vision as she held you, her grip tight as if she was afraid to let go. you wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was hold onto her, the weight of this revelation pressing down on you, threatening to crush you.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry.” she didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, her own tears soaking into your shirt. you could feel the raw emotion in her touch, the desperation, the need for connection that mirrored your own. it was overwhelming, this sudden discovery of a sister you never knew you had, this realization that you weren’t as alone in the world as you had always believed.

the days that followed your discovery were a whirlwind of emotions, each one more intense than the last. it felt surreal to wake up every morning knowing that the girl who had stumbled into your life was your sister, that the person you had unknowingly searched for all these years had been right under your nose, confined to the same underground world that you had infiltrated. eunha, she called herself—her real name, a name that felt strange on your tongue, yet familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain. there was something about her presence that felt like home, like a piece of you that had been missing was finally found.

the first few days were spent mostly in the training room, away from prying eyes. you found yourself drawn to her, spending every free moment getting to know her, piecing together the fragments of a life you had never known existed.

“i’ve never seen the outside world,” she confessed one day, her voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. the two of you sat side by side on the floor of the training room, your backs against the wall, your shoulders almost touching. she was picking at the frayed edge of her worn-out shoes, her eyes downcast, as if ashamed to admit such a thing. “i’ve only heard about it, in stories, from people who come and go. but i’ve never been out there.”

the weight of her words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had always taken the outside world for granted—the sun, the sky, the fresh air, all the little things that made life worth living. to think that your sister had been deprived of all that, trapped in this suffocating underground existence, filled you with a deep sense of regret.

“they kept me here,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “mom and dad, they said it was for my safety, that the outside world was too dangerous, that people like us. we wouldn’t survive out there. i believed them because i didn’t know any better. i grew up knowing only this place, these people, and the stories of a sister i thought i’d never meet.”

her words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it with a pain you hadn’t expected. you had always known your parents were involved in something dark, but to think that they had kept her here, isolated, fed her lies about the world beyond these walls. it made your blood boil. “eunha,” you began, your voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting you off.

“i go by eunha here, but it’s not just a name,” she said, looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that held a world of pain behind them. “it’s who i am in this place. it’s all i’ve ever known. but now that i’ve met you, i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore.”

you reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you told her gently. “we’ll figure it out together.” there was a moment of silence between you, the weight of her words settling over you both like a heavy blanket. she seemed to gather herself before speaking again, her tone more resolved, though still tinged with uncertainty.

“and you, who are you?” she asked, her gaze searching yours. “i mean, i know you’re my sister, but you’re different from everyone else here. you don’t belong here, do you?”

you sighed, knowing you couldn’t lie to her. not now. “i’m undercover,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “my real name isn’t lee rachel. i’m a cop, eunha. i’m here to take this place down from the inside.” her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you feared she might recoil from you, that she might see you as the enemy. but instead, she looked at you with something like awe, mixed with a hint of fear.

“a cop,” she repeated, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. “so everything, everything you’ve been doing here,”

“is to gather information,” you confirmed. “to find a way to shut this place down for good. but i never imagined i’d find you here, eunha. i never knew—god, i never knew.” she was silent for a long moment, absorbing everything you’d told her. then, to your surprise, she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m glad it’s you,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “i’m glad i found you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i’m glad i found you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. for the first time in years, you felt a bond, a connection, that went beyond anything you’d ever known. eunha was your sister, your blood, and you felt a fierce need to protect her, to make up for all the lost time, to somehow give her the life she had been denied.

“i won’t tell anyone,” she promised, her voice firm, her eyes shining with determination. “i won’t say a word about who you really are. you can trust me, (y/n).”

“i know,” you said, giving her a small, grateful smile. “i trust you.”

in the days that followed, you introduced her to jungkook. his initial reaction was one of shock, his dark eyes widening as he processed the news. “you have a sister?” he had asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “how, how did you not know?”

“it’s a long story,” you had replied, glancing at eunha, who stood quietly by your side. “but she’s here now, and that’s what matters.” jungkook’s gaze had shifted to her, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. you could see the wheels turning in his head, the way he was trying to assess whether she could be trusted, whether she posed a threat to your mission. he was protective, not just of you, but of the operation, and you couldn’t blame him for being wary.

but eunha, in her gentle way, had slowly begun to win him over. it wasn’t easy—jungkook was naturally suspicious of anyone new, especially someone with ties to the underground world. but she was persistent, always polite, always kind, and over time, you could see the way his defenses began to crumble.

one evening, as the three of you sat together in the small kitchen of your shared hideout, eunha had looked at jungkook with a mischievous glint in her eye. “you know,” she had said, her tone light, “i’ve never had a brother-in-law before.”

jungkook had nearly choked on his drink, his eyes going wide with surprise. “brother-in-law?” he had repeated, his voice incredulous. she had nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re with my sister, right? that makes you my brother-in-law.”

you had watched as jungkook’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it was a simple statement, but it meant more than eunha could have known. it was an acceptance, a sign that she was beginning to find her place in your strange little family. jungkook had looked at you then, and the warmth in his gaze had made your heart skip a beat. “brother-in-law, huh?” he had said, his voice teasing. “i could get used to that.”

you had smiled back at him, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. in that moment, you realized just how much had changed since eunha had come into your life. you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was she. you had each other, and now you had jungkook too. as the days passed, the three of you grew closer, your little makeshift family becoming something solid, something real. there were still challenges ahead, still dangers lurking around every corner, but for the first time, you felt like you could face them together. you had found your sister, and in doing so, you had found a piece of yourself that you hadn’t even known was missing.

and as you sat with eunha one night, listening to her talk about her dreams of seeing the outside world, of finally living the life she had always imagined, you knew that you would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality. you would protect her, you would keep her safe, and you would ensure that she never had to face the darkness of this world alone. because she was your sister, and you were hers. and nothing, not even the shadows that threatened to engulf you both, could ever change that.

the day of the annual dinner arrived far too quickly for your liking. the boss had called everyone in, demanding a full attendance for a formal gathering that evening, and you knew there was no way to avoid it. the fact that you had to keep eunha’s true identity a secret gnawed at you relentlessly, eating away at your resolve. you had only just found her, only just begun to know her, and already, you were forced to hide the bond that connected you. It felt wrong—like a betrayal of everything you wanted to protect. but your cover had to be maintained, even if it meant stifling the fierce protective instinct that had risen within you.

as you stood in front of the mirror, your mind was heavy with the weight of the secrets you bore. you were clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress that clung to your curves in all the right places, the deep shade of midnight blue contrasting beautifully against your skin. the dress was more formal than your usual attire, a clear reminder of the precarious balance you walked between two worlds. your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, trying to push aside the unease that churned in your stomach.

jungkook stood beside you, his reflection in the mirror providing a momentary distraction from the storm of thoughts in your head. he looked impeccable in his tailored black suit, the lines sharp and precise, exuding an air of authority and confidence that only he could pull off with such effortless grace. his dark hair was slicked back, highlighting the strong angles of his face, and his eyes were locked on you, an appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, warming your cheeks. you managed a small smile, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “you’re just saying that because you have to,” you teased, though the way he looked at you made your heart flutter in a way that no words could adequately describe.

“not even close,” he replied, stepping closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re breathtaking, (y/n).”

before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and you turned to see eunha standing in the doorway, her wide eyes filled with awe. she looked so innocent, so untouched by the world’s cruelty, and the sight made your heart twist painfully. she was dressed in an adorable white dress, the fabric flowing around her like a cloud, making her look even more ethereal than she already was. the dress was simple, but it suited her perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made your breath catch.

“you look gorgeous,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. it was true—she was beautiful, radiating a kind of purity that you hadn’t seen in so long, not in a place like this. eunha’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she gave you a shy smile, her fingers twisting together nervously. “i was gonnq say the same about you,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid to speak the words aloud.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for the girl standing before you. she was still so young, so untainted by the darkness that surrounded you both. she had been kept hidden away for so long, but now that she was here, you wanted to protect that innocence, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world she had been thrust into.

“come here,” you said, holding out your hand to her. she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, her small hand slipping into yours. you pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and the sensation filled you with a fierce determination to keep her safe, no matter what.

“would you like me to do your makeup?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. the question was light, almost playful, and you watched as her face lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a joy that made your heart churn. “really?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe that you were offering her something so simple, yet so meaningful.

“of course,” you said with a smile. “you’re beautiful as you are, but a little makeup might make you feel even more special.” eunha nodded eagerly, and you guided her to sit at the small vanity in the corner of the room. as you began to carefully apply the makeup, you kept it simple—just a touch of concealer to even out her skin tone, a light dusting of blush to bring out the natural flush in her cheeks, and a hint of mascara to define her long lashes. you didn’t want to overwhelm her, but you could see the way her eyes shone with happiness as you worked, the way she held herself a little taller, a little more confident.

when you were finished, you stepped back to admire your work, and you felt a surge of pride as you looked at her. she was stunning, and not just because of the makeup—she had a natural beauty that radiated from within, a light that hadn’t been dimmed despite everything she had been through. “you look even prettier than me,” you told her, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

she blushed again, but there was a glow in her eyes, a happiness that you knew was rare in this place. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “i’ve never felt like this before.” you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you deserve to feel beautiful,” you said softly. “because you are.”

she gave you a shy smile before she excused herself, her steps light as she left the room. you watched her go, your heart swelling with affection and a fierce protectiveness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. as the door closed behind her, you turned back to jungkook, who had been watching the entire exchange with a soft smile on his lips. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, a warmth and tenderness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mom one day,” he said, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet certainty that made your breath catch in your throat. the words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with a warmth that made your chest tighten with emotion. you hadn’t thought about it much before, about what the future might hold for you and jungkook, but hearing him say those words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, made something inside you click into place.

you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. “is that a promise?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. he didn’t hesitate, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. when he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “it just might be,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of quiet promise that made you believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

the dining room was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table stretching out before you like a dark, endless expanse. thirteen chairs were arranged around it, and each one was filled with a familiar face. eunha sat to your right, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene expression on her face that did nothing to betray the turmoil you knew she had endured. jungkook was on your left, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos that surrounded you. across from you sat the boss, his cold, calculating eyes surveying the room with the indifference of a man who had seen far too much, done far too much, to be moved by anything.

to your horror, the man who had tried to violate you was seated just a few spots down the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding eye contact with you could somehow erase the memory of what he had done. the mere sight of him made your skin crawl, a visceral reminder of the danger that lurked within these walls.

you felt jungkook’s hand slip beneath the tablecloth, seeking yours. his fingers found yours, intertwining with a warmth that steadied your nerves. he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent message that he was with you, that he would protect you. you squeezed back, grateful for his strength, for the way he could calm the storm inside you with just a touch.

the clinking of silverware ceased as the boss cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with anticipation. he leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes settling on jungkook. “i heard there was a mishap in the locker room earlier,” he began, his voice deceptively calm. there was a pause as his gaze bore into jungkook, the tension thickening in the air. “where do you get off beating my men?”

the question hung in the air, cold and accusatory, and your heart skipped a beat. jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, but his expression remained composed. he met the boss’s gaze head-on, unflinching. “i wouldn’t have done it,” he began, his voice steady, “if i hadn’t caught him trying to assault her.” he didn’t need to specify who “her” was—everyone knew. his words hung in the air like a sharp blade, slicing through the tension.

jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the man who had hurt you. the man cowered, his head bowed in shame, his entire body trembling. he was a coward, stripped of his bravado in the face of the truth. your heart pounded in your chest as the memory of that day flashed before your eyes. you felt jungkook’s thumb stroke the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that helped keep your fear at bay. but there was no comfort to be found in the boss’s cold, calculating gaze as he turned his attention to the man in question.

“is that so?” the boss asked, his voice chillingly even. the man didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his silence spoke volumes, a silent admission of guilt that echoed in the stillness of the room.

the boss sighed, a sound that was more weary than anything else. then, in one fluid motion, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol. the sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the silence, and before anyone could react, he raised the gun and fired. the bullet struck the man square in the forehead, the crack of the gunshot reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. blood sprayed against the wall behind him as his body slumped forward onto the table, lifeless. and then, there were twelve.

you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the reality of what had just happened hit you. the room was suddenly too quiet, the silence suffocating. the shock rippled through you like a cold wave, numbing your senses, freezing you in place. you turned to look at jungkook, and the sheer horror in his eyes mirrored your own. the two of you were caught in a shared nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much you wanted to.

the boss calmly holstered his gun, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience rather than taken a life. “why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if the murder that had just taken place was nothing more than a routine matter.

you were mortified, but what terrified you even more was the lack of reaction from eunha. she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t gasped, hadn’t even blinked. her face was a mask of emotionless calm, as if she had witnessed this kind of thing a hundred times before and it no longer fazed her. it was a stark contrast to the horror you and jungkook felt, and it sent a chill down your spine. how much had she seen? how much had she endured to become so numb?

the boss nodded to eunha, and without hesitation, she stood and began to pass around twelve wine glasses, moving with a practiced grace that belied her youth. she placed a glass in front of each person, her movements smooth and precise, her expression serene, as if she were simply going through the motions of a task she had performed countless times before. as she reached you, you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands didn’t tremble, the way her eyes remained dull, devoid of any real emotion. she was a ghost of the girl she should have been, and the realization made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. how had she survived in this world for so long, and how had it changed her? she then passed around a basket of bread, followed by a bottle of wine, filling each glass with a measured amount. when she was done, she returned to her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

the boss raised his glass, and the rest of you followed suit, though your hands felt heavy as lead, your movements mechanical. “tomorrow night,” he began, “there will be a heist. it’s a big one, and there’s a good chance it’ll end in a shootout with a rival gang. i need all of you at your best, focused, and ready to do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

you listened to his words, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the image of the man’s lifeless body slumped over the table, the blood still dripping onto the floor. this was the world you were in now, a world where life was cheap, and death was just another part of the business. you didn’t need to say anything to jungkook; the look you shared was enough. this was a warning, a grim reminder of the stakes you were playing with, that there was no turning back.

the next day dawned slowly, the pale light of morning seeping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like a hesitant promise. you awoke in jungkook’s arms, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. the memories of the previous night clung to your thoughts like a dark fog, but as you lay there in the quiet of the morning, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you felt a small, flickering spark of hope. he was here. you weren’t alone.

he stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your wakefulness. he gave you a sleepy smile, the kind that always seemed to reach the very corners of his eyes, and you felt a faint tug at your heart. it was incredible how he could make you feel safe, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “how are you feeling?”

you hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you. how were you supposed to feel? the image of the man’s lifeless body from last night still haunted your thoughts, a gruesome reminder of the world you were trapped in. but when you looked into jungkook’s eyes, you saw something else—strength, determination, and a flicker of hope that had been missing for too long. “i’m okay,” you finally replied, your voice quiet but steady. “i’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

he nodded, understanding in his gaze. “i know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but try to look on the bright side. you have me, and you have eunha. tonight, it’ll all be over, and we can get out of this mess for good.” he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, it grounded you. it reminded you of what you were fighting for. this wasn’t just about taking down a criminal organization; it was about securing a future for you, for jungkook, and for eunha. a future where she could be free, where you could show her the world beyond these dark walls.

“i can’t wait to show her the outside world,” you whispered, your thoughts drifting to your sister. “she’s been trapped here for so long, she deserves to see everything she’s missed.” jungkook’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “she will,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “we’ll show her everything. qnd we’ll do it together.”

the day stretched out before you, a long, quiet expanse of time that felt strangely calm. jungkook stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of reassurance. he made sure you ate, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent, and he kept the conversation light, steering you away from the darker thoughts that threatened to consume you.

you spent hours talking about the future, about the life you could build once this was all over. jungkook painted pictures of a life filled with simple joys—waking up to the sound of birds outside your window, spending lazy afternoons exploring the city with eunha, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch with him, watching movies or just talking about your day. it was a dream, but it was one you clung to with all your might, letting it fuel the fire that kept you going.

as the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. you found yourself staring out the window, watching as the light slowly faded, the promise of nightfall inching closer. tonight was the night. the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your stomach.

jungkook noticed, his hand finding yours once again. “hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. “we’ve got this. we’ll all be in the same spot, and the rest of our team will be there to cover our backs. just a few more hours, and then, we’re free.” you nodded, trying to absorb the confidence in his words, to let it steady your nerves. the idea of freedom, of living a life with him, it was almost too much to hope for. but it was all you had, and you weren’t about to let go of it.

“i’m just worried,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if something goes wrong?” jungkook cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he said firmly. “we’ve planned for this, we’ve trained for this, and we’re ready. you’re ready.”

his words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto as you navigated the treacherous waters ahead. you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “i trust you.” a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said, his voice softening. “because i trust you too. and after tonight, we’ll finally have the life we’ve been dreaming of.” you spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of quiet companionship, the two of you moving through the motions of the day as if in a trance. there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared sense of purpose that kept you both grounded, even as the weight of what was to come pressed down on you.

the night had a suffocating air, thick with tension that clung to every breath you took. the warehouse where the showdown was set to occur loomed ahead like a dark, foreboding fortress, its looming shadows melding into the blackness of the night. dim light spilled through the cracks in the metal walls, casting eerie shapes on the ground. the gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city that was unaware of the impending bloodshed.

jungkook was at your side, his presence a mixture of comfort and concern. he walked with a tense calm, his hand subtly brushing against yours with every step. his gaze darted around, always vigilant, yet there was a softness in his eyes when they settled on you. “tonight’s the night,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “we’ll get through this, and after that, we’ll be free. you, me, and eunha. we’ll show her the world.”

his words were meant to reassure, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest. the future he painted sounded like a dream—one that you so desperately wanted to hold onto, but the reality of the night made it feel like it was slipping through your fingers. you glanced up at him, your thoughts heavy with the unspoken fears that swirled in your mind. “jungkook,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “if we don't make it out—”

but he cut you off, his tone firm, almost commanding. “we will make it out.” he stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently gripping your arm. there was a fire in his eyes, one that burned with determination. “but i love you more. more than anything else in this world.”

before you could respond, the sudden, sharp sound of gunfire shattered the silence. the air erupted with chaos—screams, the sound of bullets tearing through the night, the desperate shouts of men fighting for survival. the world around you became a blur of movement and noise, the lines between friend and foe blurring in the chaos.

jungkook moved with swift precision, his gun raised as he shot at the figures that darted through the shadows. you followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest. every sense was heightened, every movement critical as you ducked and weaved through the barrage of bullets.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure move toward you with a gun aimed directly at your head. time slowed for a split second, and your breath caught in your throat. but before you could react, a deafening shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. you turned to see jungkook, his gun still smoking, his eyes wide with the intensity of the moment. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with relief and gratitude. he nodded, a brief smile flickering across his lips before he motioned for you to move. the two of you ducked behind a stack of crates, your backs pressed against the cold metal as you caught your breath.

just then, out of the smoke and chaos, a small figure came running toward you—eunha. her eyes were wide with fear, her small frame trembling as she reached you. the sight of her sent a jolt of panic through your veins. “eunha,” you hissed, pulling her close. “what are you doing here? it's not safe, you have to go.”

but her eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “no, you have to go. please, you have to leave now.” the urgency in her voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. "what? why?" your mind raced with confusion and fear, trying to make sense of her words.

through her sobs, eunha’s voice cracked as she confessed, “i told the boss about you. i didn’t mean to—i was excited about seeing you, and it slipped. i was afraid, i didn’t know what to do, and i told him everything. you have to leave before he gets to you.”

the betrayal hit you like a punch to the gut, the shock so overwhelming that it took you a moment to process what she was saying. you felt jungkook stiffen beside you, the disbelief and hurt clear in his eyes. but there was no time to dwell on it—sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, signaling the arrival of the authorities.

“stay here,” you told her, your voice a mix of urgency and fear. you peered around the crates to see a swarm of officers descending upon the scene, led by hoseok. relief flooded through you despite the chaos; the sight of him meant that the nightmare might finally end. jungkook's grip on your hand tightened as he offered you a strained smile. the disbelief and betrayal were still evident in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of hope. “it’s almost over,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

the rival members, realizing they were outmatched, began to scatter. the officers moved in, detaining anyone they could get their hands on. in the midst of it all, you saw the boss—your boss—being dragged away by hoseok, thrashing against his grip. but then, something changed. the boss’s eyes found yours, locking onto you with a look so dark, so filled with malevolence, that it made your blood run cold.

before you could react, he pushed hoseok off with a sudden burst of strength, grabbing the officer’s gun in one swift motion. the gunshot rang out, splitting the air with a deafening crack. your heart stopped, and for a moment, time stood still. but the pain never came. you looked down at yourself in disbelief—no blood, no wound. then you saw her.

eunha stood beside you, her eyes wide with shock and pain as blood bloomed across her chest like a crimson flower. the world crashed down around you as she dropped to the ground, the life draining from her eyes even before her body hit the earth.

“no!” the scream tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees beside her, jungkook following suit, his own voice choked with horror. you grabbed eunha’s hand, feeling the warmth slipping away as she struggled to breathe. “hold on,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “help is here, just hold on.”

but all she could do was smile through the pain, her grip on your hands weakening with each passing second. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her eyes fluttered as she forced out her final words, her voice a fragile whisper that broke your heart into pieces. “thank you, for showing me the outside world.” and then her hand went limp, her eyes closed, and the world went black. the moment her hand fell limp, a visceral, gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, echoing through the warehouse with a sound of raw, unbridled grief. the world around you seemed to collapse into a nightmarish haze of flashing lights and distant voices. jungkook’s face, though painted with his own shock and horror, was the only constant in this maelstrom.

you crumpled beside her lifeless form, your fingers still clutching her cold, bloodstained hand. the world blurred into a mix of red and black as your vision swam with tears. the sirens, once a distant wail of hope, now sounded like the cruel harbingers of your loss. wach breath you took was ragged, tearing at your chest with an intensity that felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out.

jungkook wrapped his arms around you, his hold both firm and tender as he tried to pull you away from the scene. his own sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his voice a low, desperate murmur in your ear. “don’t look,” he choked out, his words straining to break through the tears. “please, don’t look.”

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t look away from eunha’s body being gently lifted onto a stretcher, the cold, clinical efficiency of the officers contrasting brutally with the warmth and life that had been snuffed out so cruelly. your sobs grew louder, mingling with jungkook’s as the reality of the situation sank in. you thrashed in his arms, your body wracked with grief, your mind screaming in denial and pain.

hoseok, his face a mask of concern and sympathy, rushed to your side. his presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos, but his words felt hollow against the backdrop of your overwhelming anguish. “it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe you with a voice full of empathy. “it’s all over. it’s gonna be alright.”

but it wasn’t okay. it wasn’t over. the weight of loss was crushing, and no amount of reassurances could lift it from your heart. you continued to sob, your body shaking uncontrollably as jungkook held you close, his own tears soaking into your hair. the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the sharp, searing pain of your sister’s death.

the following days were a blur of darkness and sorrow. the funeral was a solemn, heart-wrenching affair, and every moment felt like an eternity of raw, unhealed wounds. jungkook was your steadfast support, his quiet strength a fragile anchor in the storm of your grief.

on the day of eunha’s memorial, the sky was a somber gray, matching the heaviness that settled over you. jungkook walked with you to the cemetery, his presence a balm for your shattered spirit. he, too, felt as if he had lost a child of his own. the cemetery was a quiet, serene place, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed your life. the graves were marked with simple stones and surrounded by patches of manicured grass.

when you reached her grave, jungkook carefully set down a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers. his tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that had begun to fall softly from the sky. he stood beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. his touch was gentle, but it held a depth of emotion that spoke of his own suffering and solidarity with your pain.

you knelt beside the grave, your heart aching as you stared at the photograph of eunha framed by the flowers. the sadness that had been your constant companion now seemed to reach a new, unbearable depth. you reached into your pocket and pulled out the medal you had won for the infiltration—the symbol of a world that had taken so much from you.

with trembling hands, you placed the medal beside eunha’s photograph. it felt like a cruel irony—a symbol of your accomplishments in a world that had ultimately failed to protect her. you whispered a final goodbye, tears streaming down your face as you wished her peace in a place far removed from the cruelty of the underground. jungkook watched you with a profound sadness in his eyes. his own tears were a testament to the love and loss he felt for eunha, and the comfort he tried to offer you was an echo of the pain that mirrored your own. he held you close, the warmth of his embrace a small solace in the bitter chill of your grief.

as you stood together, gazing at the grave, you found some small measure of comfort in the thought that eunha was now in a place far better than the harsh world she had known. her spirit was free from the shadows that had plagued her life, and the hope that she was exploring something far more beautiful than the outside world, gave you a tiny glimmer of solace in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow.

✧.*

a/n: lowkey my name except pildo survives

hello, sidney (안녕 시드니) – kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

fear was a shadow that clung to you, wrapping itself around your thoughts like a fog you couldn't escape. it wasn't just a fleeting sensation but a relentless presence, weaving itself into the fabric of your mind, dulling your senses, and sharpening the unknown into something monstrous. every creak of the floor, every whisper of wind against the window, sent your heart racing, as if the air itself had conspired against you. you felt it deep in your bones—a cold, gnawing dread that eroded your confidence, leaving you hollow and trembling.

in the stillness of the night, when the world seemed to hold its breath, fear became a living entity, whispering your doubts back to you, feeding on the silence. it was in those moments that you realized fear was never just about what could happen, but about what you imagined could happen—the horrors your mind painted in vivid detail. you tried to shake it off, to rationalize it away, but fear wasn't rational. it was primal, an ancient instinct that told you to run, to hide, to protect yourself from whatever lurked in the darkness. yet there you stood, rooted in place, unable to escape the tightening grip of terror that had found a home within you.

the night air had a palpable stillness to it, a quiet that pressed down on cha hyein like a weighted blanket. it was the kind of night that made even the most mundane tasks feel sinister. the clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm the only sound accompanying her as she moved about the kitchen. the small kitchen, dimly lit by the faint glow of a single overhead bulb, cast long, eerie shadows that stretched across the linoleum floor.

she was carefully preparing for her movie night, every movement deliberate, almost ritualistic. she reached into the cabinet, the hinges creaking as she opened it, and retrieved a bag of popcorn. the plastic crinkled loudly in the oppressive silence. she poured the kernels into the old, worn popcorn maker, the metal cold against her skin, before setting it on the counter. the machine whirred to life, filling the room with a low, mechanical hum that grew louder with each passing second.

hyein glanced at the clock again, her anticipation tinged with a hint of unease. she loved horror movies, the thrill of fear they brought, but tonight felt different. there was a heaviness in the air, a tension that made her hesitate. she shook her head, dismissing the irrational feeling, and focused on the popping sounds now erupting from the popcorn maker, the kernels bursting in rapid succession, filling the air with the familiar scent of butter and salt.

it was just as she reached for a bowl to catch the popcorn that the phone rang. the sudden sound made her jump, her heart skipping a beat before she cursed herself for being so jumpy. she wiped her hands on a dish towel, the fabric rough against her skin, and picked up the receiver. “hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light, though the uneasy feeling gnawed at her.

there was a brief pause on the other end, just long enough for a chill to crawl up her spine, before a voice, low and smooth, asked, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

she let out a relieved giggle, immediately assuming it was her boyfriend, playing one of his usual pranks. “yunho, this isn’t funny,” she chided, a smile tugging at her lips. she couldn't deal with her boyfriend anymore—she was already on the brink of breaking up with him, after hearing what he had to say about some girls from school. the voice on the other end, however, remained unfazed. “this isn’t yunho.”

the smile faded from her face, replaced by a furrowed brow. there was something unsettling about the way the stranger spoke, the way his voice seemed to snake through the phone line, wrapping around her like a cold tendril. still, she decided to play along, attributing the voice to some friend of yunho’s who had gotten hold of her number. “well,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel, “i’d have to say a nightmare on elm street.”

the popcorn continued to pop in the background, the sound a chaotic backdrop to the quiet conversation. the voice didn’t miss a beat. “which of the films was called the dream child?”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the counter. “what is this? trivia night?” she quipped, but the silence on the other end unnerved her. it was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a vacuum where sound should be. she cleared her throat, feeling a prickling on the back of her neck. “the fourth movie,” she answered, her voice now laced with irritation.

but the silence persisted, thick and oppressive. she opened her mouth to demand what kind of game this was when suddenly, the lights flickered and then went out completely. the kitchen plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the popcorn maker as it continued its frantic popping, the sounds echoing unnaturally in the darkened space.

her breath hitched in her throat as she fumbled for the light switch, her fingers trembling. the voice, now a sinister whisper, finally broke the silence. “sorry, that’s incorrect.” the line went dead with a chilling finality.

panic surged through her. the phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor as she spun around, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. the kitchen was now a maze of shadows, every corner and crevice filled with an unknown threat. and then she heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching from somewhere behind her. her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she scrambled to grab a knife from the block on the counter. the cold steel felt reassuring in her grip, though she knew it was a flimsy defense against whatever—or whoever—was out there. she backed away, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the footsteps grew closer, more distinct, echoing through the silent house.

she couldn’t stay here. she had to get out, she had to find yunho. without another thought, she bolted for the back door, the knife clutched tightly in her hand. she yanked the door open and stumbled into the backyard, the cool night air hitting her like a wave. she ran, her footsteps crunching on the gravel path, her lungs burning with each frantic breath. the backyard was a vast, dark expanse, the trees looming like specters in the night, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

she stopped short when she saw him. yunho. hr was seated in the middle of the yard, on a chair, his head slumped forward, his hands tied behind his back. relief washed over her, momentarily drowning out the terror. “yunho!” she called, her voice trembling as she took a step toward him. but something was wrong. he didn’t move, didn’t respond. the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took another tentative step closer. the shadows shifted, and suddenly, the yard was flooded with light. the harsh brightness revealed the gruesome truth.

yunho sat slumped in the chair, his shirt stained with dark, wet patches of blood. his torso had been brutally slashed open, his insides spilling out in a macabre display. the knife slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground as she choked back a scream, the horror of the scene overwhelming her. “no, no, no, no,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she backed away, her hands trembling violently. tears blurred her vision, but she couldn’t look away from his lifeless body, the reality of what she was seeing refusing to sink in.

then, she heard it. footsteps, again. this time, faster, closer. she spun around, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw a figure emerging from the shadows, clad in black, their face hidden behind a grotesque mask. the sight of the masked figure sent a jolt of pure terror through her, adrenaline propelling her forward as she turned and ran, her only thought to escape.

but the figure was fast, too fast. she could hear it gaining on her, the sound of their footsteps almost drowned out by her own panicked breaths. the yard seemed endless, the fence too far away, the distance stretching out like a cruel joke. and then she felt it—a hand, cold and unyielding, grabbing her arm, yanking her back with a force that knocked the air from her lungs. she struggled, her screams piercing the night, but the figure was relentless, its grip like iron as they pulled her down to the ground.

she fought, kicking, thrashing, but it was no use. the masked figure loomed over her, the moonlight glinting off the blade in their hand. she barely had time to register the glint of steel before it came down, slashing through the air with terrifying precision. the last thing she saw was the cold, lifeless eyes staring down at her from behind the mask, and then, nothing. it was game over.

the classroom was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that crept in through the cracks and settled into your bones, making the air heavy and hard to breathe. you sat there, staring at the scuffed surface of your desk, tracing the grooves and dents with your eyes in a futile attempt to keep your mind from spiraling. but it was impossible. the anxiety gnawed at you, relentless and cruel, as you waited for the officer to speak.

he stood at the front of the room, a somber figure in his dark uniform, the emblem on his chest barely catching the light. his voice, when he finally began to speak, was low and measured, a tone that carried the weight of the horrific news he was about to deliver. “i’m afraid i have some difficult news to share,” he began, his eyes sweeping across the room, pausing for just a moment as they met yours before continuing. “your classmate, cha hyein, was found dead last night.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing in an almost sinister hum. the silence that followed was deafening, a collective intake of breath as everyone tried to process the officer’s words. “there’s more,” he continued, his voice dropping to a grave whisper, the kind that made your skin crawl. “hyein’s death was not an accident. she was murdered.”

murdered. the word reverberated through your mind, echoing in the empty chambers of your thoughts, growing louder with each passing second. the officer’s face was a mask of professionalism, but you could see the horror lurking behind his eyes, the same horror that now twisted in your stomach.

“the suspect,” he said, his voice faltering for just a moment, “was seen wearing a long, black-and-white mask. they hung her by her own intestines, from a tree in her backyard.” the room was suffocating, the air thick with the collective fear and disbelief that hung in the space between you and the officer. the gruesome details painted a picture so horrific, so unimaginable, that your brain struggled to fully comprehend it. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a cold sweat breaking out on your skin as the officer’s words replayed in your mind, each syllable dripping with dread.

before he could continue, your teacher, who had been standing near the back of the room with a pale face and trembling hands, abruptly cut him off. “that’s enough,” she said, her voice sharp and edged with a panic she was barely concealing. “these kids don’t need to hear any more.” the officer nodded, though his expression was one of reluctant agreement. he had more to say, you could tell, but he swallowed it back, his mouth set in a grim line. the silence that followed was unbearable, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. the rest of the class passed in a blur, a haze of half-heard words and distorted faces. your mind was everywhere except where it should have been, replaying the officer’s words over and over, unable to shake the image of hyein’s lifeless body swaying in the wind.

by the time the final bell rang, you felt like a ghost drifting through the halls, your movements mechanical and numb. the usual chatter of your classmates felt distant, like it was coming from another world, one that you were no longer a part of. you found yourself outside the school, standing with your friends near the front gates, the familiar faces offering little comfort in the face of the terror gnawing at your insides.

kai was the first to break the uneasy silence. “so, that’s how she went out, huh? hung by her own intestines?” he let out a low whistle, the sound unnervingly casual considering the circumstances. “what a way to go.” jennie’s hand shot out, slapping him hard on the arm. “don’t be such an ass, kai,” she snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “leave her alone.”

he winced, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him, but the smirk on his face didn’t falter. “okay, i’ll liver alone.”

doyoung, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly spoke up. “the killer has an interesting tactic, though,” he mused, almost to himself. “the mask, the way they used her intestines. it’s all very theatrical.” kai shot him a sideways glance, his smirk widening into something more sinister. “what, you think you’re some kind of expert now? maybe you’re the killer, doyoung, with all that insight.”

he glared at him, his lips curling into a snarl. “fuck off, kai. i’m just saying.” jennie groaned, clearly exasperated with the both of them. “you’re both being assholes,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. before she could say anything more, kai’s hands were suddenly around her waist, lifting her off the ground and slinging her over his shoulder despite her protests.

“you should talk less,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a hint of something darker underneath. jennie struggled in his grip, her fists pounding against his back, but kai only laughed, ignoring her complaints. amid the banter, you felt like you were floating, your thoughts far away from the conversation. the unease that had settled in your gut during class refused to dissipate, growing stronger with each passing minute. you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the horror of what had happened to hyein was only the beginning.

taehyung noticed your distraction, his dark eyes softening as he reached out to stroke your hair gently, his touch grounding you in the present moment. “hey,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your mind. “you okay?” you shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “this whole incident. it’s freaking me out, tae. i can’t stop thinking about it.”

he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin in a tender gesture. “you shouldn’t worry,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance you desperately needed. “why not?”

his lips curled into a small, knowing smile, but he said nothing for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. finally, he spoke, his voice low and sure. “because nothing could happen to you with me around.” the conviction in his words, the way he said it as though it was an undeniable truth, made something inside you unclench. the tension that had coiled in your chest slowly began to unwind, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand chase away the cold fear that had settled in your bones.

kai's laughter rang out into the cooling evening air, a sharp contrast to the somber mood that had settled over your group like a heavy fog. he flashed a grin, his eyes alight with a spark of mischief that seemed almost out of place given the day's events. “so,” he began, his tone casual, as if the tension that had gripped everyone didn’t even register to him, “who’s coming to my party tomorrow night?”

his words hung in the air for a moment, the sudden shift in conversation jarring against the lingering dread. you watched as taehyung, standing close to you with his hand still gently cradling your hair, scoffed, disbelief evident in his voice. “a party? seriously, kai? how can you even be in the mood for that after what happened?”

he shrugged, the motion careless, almost indifferent. “what does that have to do with me? hyein’s gone, but life goes on, right?” his words were nonchalant, but there was a darkness in the way he said them, as if the horror of what had happened was nothing more than an inconvenience, something to be brushed aside in favor of more entertaining pursuits.

doyoung, who had been leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, winced at his words. he tilted his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he spoke. “you know, kai, i’m not so sure about that. with the way you’re acting, it’s almost like you’re trying to convince us you had nothing to do with it.”

kai’s eyes narrowed, the playful glint in them hardening into something sharper, more dangerous. he turned to doyoung, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “careful, do,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with an edge that made your skin crawl. “you keep talking like that, and you might just be my next victim.”

the tension between them was almost laughable, a taut string ready to snap at any moment. you could see doyoung bristle at the threat, but before he could retort, jennie suddenly turned to you, her enthusiasm cutting through the unease like a knife through butter. “please, you have to come to the party!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide and pleading as she grabbed your hands in hers. the intensity of her grip was almost desperate, as if the promise of a party was the only thing holding her together, a fragile thread of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering to taehyung, searching for some kind of direction, some sign of what you should do. his expression softened when your eyes met, and he offered you a reassuring smile, the kind that made your heart feel a little less heavy. “we’ll both be there,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if the decision had already been made and all you had to do was follow his lead.

the words brought you a strange sense of comfort, the certainty in his tone a welcome anchor in the storm of uncertainty swirling around you. but even as you nodded in agreement, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something wasn’t right, that the veneer of normalcy everyone was so desperately clinging to was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows as the five of you walked down the quiet street. the events of the day lingered like a dark cloud, your minds still grappling with the gruesome details of hyein's fate. the air was thick with tension, and despite the occasional attempts at levity, the unease was palpable. doyoung was the first to break the silence, his voice tinged with a mix of morbid fascination and disbelief. “i still can’t believe they found her liver just—out there like that.”

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the imagery all too vivid in your mind. without thinking, you corrected him, your voice soft yet firm. “it wasn’t her liver, doyoung. it was her pancreas.” the group fell silent for a moment, the words hanging in the air.

you caught taehyung’s gaze, and he shot you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. there was something in his eyes—concern, perhaps, or maybe a hint of something else, something deeper. whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear. jennie, walking beside you, shuddered visibly, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that had settled over the group. “okay, enough,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “i think it’s time we drop that topic.”

kai agreed, his grin widening as he spoke. “yeah, i agree. i can only imagine how much paincreas she was in,” he quipped, cackling at his own words. jennie rolled her eyes and slapped him on the back, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “shut up. seriously, that’s not funny.”

but this time, even doyoung couldn’t suppress a giggle, the absurdity of the situation making the dark humor almost a relief. it was as if the laughter, however inappropriate, was a way to break the tension, to remind yourselves that you were still alive, still capable of feeling something other than fear. the conversation ebbed and flowed as you continued down the street, the familiar path to your house growing shorter with each step. the streetlights flickered on, casting pools of golden light on the pavement, but even their warm glow couldn’t chase away the shadows that seemed to cling to the edges of your vision.

as you neared your house, you felt a strange reluctance to part ways with taehyung. the thought of entering the cold, empty space alone filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t quite shake. when you finally reached your gate, you stopped and turned to him, your heart heavy with unspoken fears. he paused as well, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. without a word, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. you leaned into him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the chill that had settled over you. his hands moved up to brush the hair from your forehead, his touch tender and careful, as if you were something fragile.

he bent down, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “call me if you need anything,” he murmured, his voice a soft, reassuring whisper that seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “i will.”

you lingered for a moment longer, not wanting to let go of the comfort he provided, but eventually, you pulled back, giving him a small, grateful smile. with one last look, you turned and walked up the path to your door, the weight of the day settling back over you as taehyung’s presence faded into the background. the door creaked open as you stepped inside, the silence of the house pressing in on you from all sides. you locked the door behind you, the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoing in the empty space. the house was quiet—too quiet—every creak and groan of the old wood magnified in the stillness.

the house was too quiet, a silence that stretched on like a taut string ready to snap. you busied yourself with chores, trying to ignore the nagging unease that clung to you. the laundry was first, the rhythmic hum of the machine a welcome distraction. you folded the clothes mechanically, your mind wandering to a time when life was simpler, safer. as you dusted the shelves, your eyes landed on a framed photograph—a moment frozen in time, a memory that both warmed and shattered your heart.

it was a picture of you and your dad, taken years ago. you were both smiling, your faces lit up with pure joy. it was a candid shot, one of those rare moments when everything felt right in the world. but now, as you stared at it, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by a deep frown. his passing had taken a toll on you, a wound that had never fully healed. the grief was always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to pull you under if you let your guard down.

with a sigh, you placed the picture back on the shelf and moved to the living room, sinking into the couch. the cushions were soft, enveloping you in their warmth, but the comfort was fleeting. the emptiness of the house pressed in on you, a reminder of just how alone you were. you reached for your phone, half expecting a text from taehyung, but nothing. just silence.

you had just begun to relax when your phone buzzed, startling you. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see taehyung's name, but there was no number—just a blank space where the caller id should have been. your heart skipped a beat, a cold finger of dread tracing down your spine. you hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen, before finally answering. “hello?” your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nerves.

for a moment, there was nothing—just the faint crackle of static on the other end. then, a voice, low and smooth, sent a chill straight to your bones. “hello, (y/n).”

you froze, the phone clutched tightly in your hand. the sound of your name, spoken by a voice you didn’t recognize, filled you with a fear unlike anything you had ever felt. your throat tightened, and it took all your strength to force out the words. “who is this?” the voice chuckled, a sound that made your skin crawl. “you could guess, but you’d never get it right.”

you scoffed, trying to mask your fear with bravado. “and what do i get if i guess right?”

silence. the kind that pressed in on you, that made you hyperaware of every creak and groan of the house. your breath caught in your throat, and just as you were about to speak again, you heard it—a knock at the door. “you get to live.”

you jumped, heart slamming against your ribcage, eyes darting toward the front door. “who’s there?” the voice on the other end of the line was calm, almost amused. “gonna get that?”

your hand trembled as you slowly rose from the couch, every instinct screaming at you to run. you grabbed a knife from the kitchen, the cold steel a poor comfort against the growing terror. with shaky steps, you approached the door, peering through the peephole. nothing. the porch was empty, the street beyond quiet. but the knocking persisted, louder now, more insistent. only, it wasn’t coming from the door anymore. it was coming from the living room.

panic surged through you, and you bolted up the stairs, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. you reached your bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind you. your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled with the window, pushing it open just in case you needed to escape. with trembling hands, you dialed taehyung’s number. the ringing felt like an eternity, each second stretching on, until finally, his voice broke through the terror. “(y/n)? are you okay?”

“tae, someone’s trying to break in,” you whispered, your voice tight with fear. “i don’t know what to do.”

“i’ll be right there. where are you?” his voice was steady, a lifeline in the midst of the chaos. “by the window,” you managed to say, your eyes darting around the room, every shadow a potential threat. the minutes that passed felt like hours. the house was eerily quiet now, the knocking having ceased, but the fear remained, coiled tight in your chest. you stared out the window, your eyes straining in the darkness for any sign of movement.

then, a hand on the window frame startled you, and you almost screamed before realizing it was taehyung. he climbed up with surprising ease, slipping through the window and into your room. he took one look at your pale face and pulled you into a tight embrace, his presence grounding you. “i checked around,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “there’s no one outside.”

before you could respond, the knock came again—this time, from the bedroom door. both of you froze, fear rippling through the room like a cold wind. taehyung’s eyes met yours, wide with terror, as he fumbled for his phone, quickly dialing the police. “they’ll be here soon,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. but the knocking grew more persistent, more aggressive, until it turned into a pounding that echoed through the walls.

“we have to go,” he urged, guiding you toward the window. with his help, you climbed out, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside. you both dropped to the ground, crouching in the shadows at the front of the house, waiting. his arms were around you, holding you close as you both tried to steady your breathing. when the police arrived, you could barely speak, your voice trembling as you told them that the intruder was inside. they moved quickly, guns drawn, disappearing into the house while you and taehyung waited outside, the minutes dragging on like hours.

when the officers finally emerged, their faces were blank, offering no comfort. “there’s no one inside,” one of them said, his tone flat. “we’ve checked every room, every closet. there’s no sign of anyone.” you stared at him, your mind reeling. “but we heard it. the knocking—it was real. it was there.”

the officer exchanged a glance with his partner, then turned to taehyung, suspicion creeping into his voice. “so, you just happened to be around when all this was going on?” you bristled at the insinuation, stepping forward to defend him. “i called him. he was on the phone with me when the knocking happened. he heard it too.”

the officer’s skepticism remained, but he didn’t press the issue. “we’ll look for any evidence, but in the meantime, it might be best if you stayed somewhere else tonight. just to be safe.” yaehyung tightened his grip on you, his voice gentle as he spoke. “you can stay at my place. we’ll figure this out.” numbly, you nodded, too exhausted and too terrified to argue. as you walked away from the house that had once been your sanctuary, you couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would ever feel safe again.

the drive to taehyung’s house was a blur, the streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced in the corners of your vision. the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in your chest. his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles in an attempt to comfort you, but even his familiar touch couldn’t chase away the lingering fear that clung to you like a second skin.

when you finally arrived, his home felt like a haven, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. the house was warm, the lights soft and inviting, a stark contrast to the chilling events of the night. as you stepped inside, taehyung closed the door behind you, locking it with a deliberate click, and for a moment, the sound felt like a promise of safety.

“hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he took your hand, guiding you further into the house. “you’re safe now, okay? the police will handle it.” you nodded, though the reassurance felt hollow, your mind still replaying the nightmarish events that had unfolded. but when he pulled you into his embrace, his warmth seeped into you, grounding you in the present. his arms wrapped around you securely, his chin resting on the top of your head as you sank into his touch, allowing yourself to relax, even if just a little.

“you shouldn’t be so worked up,” he continued, his voice a gentle murmur against your ear. “the police will do their job. i won’t let anything happen to you.”

“i hope so,” you whispered back, your words muffled against his chest. the tension in your shoulders eased slightly as his hand came up to stroke your hair, his touch light and tender.

for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist—there was only taehyung, his presence a balm to your frayed nerves. he tilted your chin up with a soft touch, his eyes searching yours, and in that moment, all the fear, all the anxiety seemed to melt away. he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and tender, a promise that he was here, that he would keep you safe.

when he pulled back, a small, playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “wanna watch a scary movie?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a laugh bubbling up despite the night’s events. you slapped his chest lightly, the familiar gesture bringing a sense of normalcy that you desperately needed. “are you serious right now?”

“just trying to lighten the mood,” he chuckled, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more lingering. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he kissed you, slow and gentle, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you found yourself smiling despite everything. “you’re terrible,” you whispered, though there was no bite to your words.

“but you love me anyway,” he murmured back, his voice soft, his breath warm against your lips. the two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. eventually, he led you to the couch, pulling you down beside him. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow from a nearby lamp casting a warm light over the space, making everything feel intimate and safe.

he wrapped a blanket around the both of you, cocooning you in warmth, and you curled up against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. his arm draped over you, holding you close, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “we’ll figure this out. you don’t have to be afraid. not when i’m here.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as you let his words wash over you, his voice a soothing lullaby that chased away the remaining shards of fear. with him by your side, it was easier to believe that everything would be okay, that the nightmare would soon be over. he pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “i’ll be here all night. i’m not going anywhere.”

“good,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him, your body finally starting to relax. “because i’m not letting you out of my sight.” he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you felt the last of your anxiety ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm that only he could bring. the fear that had gripped you so tightly earlier seemed distant now, a shadow that couldn’t reach you in the warmth of his embrace.

the morning light filtered through the tall windows of the school hallway, casting long, warm beams that danced across the polished floors. the steady hum of student chatter filled the air, a comforting reminder of normalcy after the events of the previous night. you walked beside jennie, her presence a familiar comfort as you made your way through the crowded halls. her eyes sparkled with curiosity, as they always did, but today there was an edge of concern in her gaze as she glanced over at you. you could feel her watching you, waiting for you to speak, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, still trying to shake off the lingering unease from the night before.

when you finally neared your locker, you stopped, your hand hovering over the cool metal handle. she paused beside you, leaning against the neighboring locker with a casual grace that was so quintessentially her. the buzz of the hallway seemed to fade as you turned to face her, knowing that you couldn’t keep it from her any longer. “so,” you began, your voice low, tinged with the weight of what you were about to share. “something happened last night.” her eyebrows shot up, her expression instantly serious. “what? what happened?”

you took a deep breath, the memories of the night before flooding back with a cold, creeping dread. “someone tried to break into my house.” her eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “oh my god, are you okay? what happened? tell me everything.”

you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady as you recounted the events. “o was doing some chores, just trying to unwind, and then i got a call. no number, just this voice,” you trailed off, shuddering at the memory of that cold, taunting voice. “what did they say?” jennie asked, her voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly would summon the terror back.

“they knew my name,” you continued, “and they told me to answer the door. i armed myself with a knife and checked the peephole, but no one was there. then i heard the knocking again, but it was coming from inside the house.” her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “fuck, that’s terrifying.”

“it was,” you admitted, the fear from the night before still fresh in your mind. “i ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. called tae, and he came over right away.” her expression softened at the mention of taehyung’s name, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “so, you really spent the night at his place?”

you nodded, your own lips curving into a faint smile as you thought of how safe you’d felt with him. “yeah, he was the only thing holding me together.” her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she leaned in a little closer. “and? did he give it to you good?”

you scoffed, playfully swatting her arm. “as if,” you said, rolling your eyes at her insinuation. “It wasn’t like that.” she leaned back against the locker, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded you with a knowing smile. “you should totally let him. he’s hot, (y/n). he’s such a catch.”

her words hung in the air between you, and you couldn’t help but let them sink in. taehyung was indeed a catch—kind, protective, and undeniably handsome. but before you could dwell on those thoughts, you shot jennie a playful look. “kai must not be hitting it good enough, huh?” she rolled her eyes dramatically, a groan slipping past her lips. “i wish. we’ve been going at it like rabbits.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, the tension from the night before melting away in the face of her candidness. “gross,” you teased, pretending to gag as you elbowed her lightly. the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the usual banter and teasing between you providing a much-needed distraction from the horrors that had gripped you less than twelve hours ago. the fear and uncertainty that had weighed so heavily on you felt distant now, replaced by the slightest of warmth.

the walk to kai's house was filled with the soft murmurs of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. the night was crisp, the air cool against your skin, making you pull your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. taehyung walked beside you, his presence warm and reassuring. every so often, his hand would brush against yours, a small reminder that he was there, keeping close.

doyoung sidled up to you with a grin. his eyes sparkled under the streetlights, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur meant just for you. “you look stunning tonight,” he said, his tone sincere, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long.

you smiled at the compliment, feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. “thanks, do,” you replied, the words leaving your lips with a casual ease, though you could feel the tension brewing beside you. taehyung’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking to him with a sharpness that was hard to miss. his jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth, the protective side of him bubbling to the surface. there was something possessive in the way he looked at doyoung, a silent warning that needed no words.

the tension was palpable, but doyoung, ever oblivious or simply choosing to ignore it, continued on, walking ahead with his usual carefree demeanor. jennie shot you a knowing look, her lips curling into a slight smirk. she knew taehyung well enough to catch the subtle shift in his mood, and it amused her to no end.

kai’s house came into view, a beacon of chaos and noise at the end of the street. even from a distance, you could hear the music thumping, the bass reverberating through the ground, sending small vibrations up your legs. the front yard was littered with people, some standing in clusters, others sprawled out on the grass, red cups in hand. the porch light flickered, casting an eerie glow over the scene, adding to the sense of wild abandon that hung in the air. the unease you had felt earlier began to creep back in, settling like a cold weight in the pit of your stomach. something about the atmosphere tonight felt off, as if the darkness held secrets just waiting to be unveiled. you tried to shake it off, telling yourself it was just nerves, the remnants of the fear from last night clinging to you like a shadow.

as you approached the front steps, kai burst out of the front door, his grin wide and mischievous. he didn’t waste a second before throwing his arms around jennie, lifting her effortlessly off the ground as she squealed with delight. he spun her around, her laughter mixing with the thumping bass, and when he finally set her down, his eyes found yours.

“the most important thing tonight,” he began, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music, “is to have fun.” his grin widened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something almost ominous as he added, “and to not die.”

doyoung, ever the skeptic, rolled his eyes, pushing past him with a dismissive wave. “dramatic much?” he muttered, disappearing into the throng of people inside the house. kai just chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. but before you could dwell on it, you felt taehyung’s hand slip into yours, his fingers lacing through yours with a comforting warmth. he turned to you, his gaze softening as he took in your expression, the worry etched in the lines of your face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for you. you forced a smile, squeezing his hand in return. “i will be after a drink.” as if he had anticipated your need, he pulled a beer from behind his back, presenting it to you with a small, reassuring smile. you took it, grateful for the distraction, and popped the cap off, taking a long, deep sip. the cold liquid slid down your throat, a welcome relief that eased some of the tension coiled inside you.

the scene at the party was an absolute shitshow, a whirlwind of chaos and drunken revelry. people were everywhere, crowding the small space, their voices raised in raucous laughter and slurred conversation. bottles were scattered across the floor, some still full, others empty and abandoned. the smell of alcohol and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of cigarette smoke and something sweet, like pot.

the lights inside were dim, casting long shadows across the room, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of you. the music was loud, almost too loud, vibrating through the walls and making it difficult to think. everywhere you looked, there was a new scene of debauchery—people making out in corners, others dancing with reckless abandon, the whole place a pulsing, chaotic mess.

you were still taking in the wild scene when suddenly, out of nowhere, a bottle flew across the room, headed straight for you. before you could even react, taehyung was there, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down, helping you duck just in time to avoid the glass projectile. the bottle shattered against the wall behind you, the sound of breaking glass cutting through the music. taehyung was up in an instant, turning on the guy who had thrown it, his eyes flashing with anger as he shoved the guy hard into a nearby table.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. the guy, clearly drunk out of his mind, raised his hands in defense, his eyes wide with fear. “it was an accident, man. i swear.”

you quickly grabbed taehyung’s arm, pulling him back. “it’s okay, tae. it’s fine. just let it go.” he hesitated, his body still tense with anger, but finally, he stepped back, though not without giving the guy one last warning glare. kai appeared out of nowhere, slipping between them with a grin, trying to diffuse the situation. “it’s a party, man,” he said, clapping a hand on taehyung’s shoulder. “shit happens.”

taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to you before glancing at jennie, his voice monotone. “we’re out of beer. you should grab some more from the garage.”

jennie pouted, crossing her arms. “that’s so far away, though.” kai just laughed, giving her a playful slap on the ass. “yeah, come on, it’s not that far. i’ll owe you one.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips as she finally agreed. “fine, but you better make it up to me later.” as she headed off toward the garage, kai turned back to you with a grin. but you barely registered his presence, your thoughts still on taehyung, on the way he had jumped to your defense without hesitation. it was comforting, knowing he had your back, but the tension in his eyes as he watched you made your heart race for reasons you weren’t quite ready to examine.

jennie let out an exaggerated sigh as she trudged across the backyard, the cool night air sending a shiver down her spine. she wrapped her arms around herself, not so much from the cold, but from the irritation bubbling beneath her skin. of all the things she could be doing at kai’s party, fetching more beer wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “this is so far,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she stomped her way to the garage. “and of course, i’m the one who has to go get it. stupid kai and his stupid beer.”

she reached the garage and yanked the door open with a bit more force than necessary, the hinges creaking in protest. the garage was dimly lit, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows that made the space feel smaller than it was. jennie flicked the light switch near the door, and the fluorescent lights buzzed to life, flooding the garage with harsh, artificial light.

“ugh,” she groaned, dragging her feet as she made her way to the old fridge in the corner. rhe fridge was ancient, its white paint chipped and peeling, but it still worked, and that was all that mattered to kai. she opened the fridge door, the cold air rushing out to meet her as she leaned down to grab the bottles of beer. “he better make this up to me,” she muttered to herself, annoyed that she had to be the one to do this. she piled a few bottles into her arms, balancing them carefully as she reached for more.

just as she was about to stand, the lights in the garage flickered once before plunging the entire space into darkness. she froze, her heart skipping a beat as the sudden darkness enveloped her. she stayed crouched, the bottles still clutched in her arms, the cold seeping through the glass and into her skin.

“kai, that’s so not funny,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls of the garage. the only response was silence, thick and oppressive, pressing down on her from all sides. her irritation quickly turned to anger, the darkness feeding her frustration. she straightened up, holding the bottles close to her chest as she scanned the garage, though she could see nothing. “i swear to god, if you don’t turn the lights back on, i’m gonna kick your ass.” the darkness seemed to stretch on forever, the silence gnawing at her nerves. then, just as suddenly as they had gone out, the lights flickered back on.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs as she found herself face to face with a masked figure. the mask was featureless, a smooth, blank surface that revealed nothing of the person behind it. the eyes and mouth, low and pitch black. the cloaked figure was standing by the exit, blocking her only way out, their presence looming like a dark shadow over her. one of the bottles slipped from her grasp, falling to the concrete floor with a shattering crash that seemed to echo in the now deathly quiet garage. her pulse roared in her ears, her mind racing as panic set in.

the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just stood there, watching her with an unnerving stillness. jennie was walled in, the only other exit behind her, too far to reach before the figure could close the distance. she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins, her body screaming at her to move, to do something. without thinking, she grabbed one of the remaining bottles and hurled it at the figure with all her strength. the glass smashed against the figure’s shoulder, and they staggered back slightly, but it wasn’t enough to knock them down. a second bottle followed, then a third, each one flying through the air with a desperation born of fear.

“fuck!” she spat, her voice trembling as she reached for the button to open the garage door. she pressed it frantically, over and over, willing the door to rise faster. the mechanism groaned in response, the door inching upward at a painfully slow pace. she dropped the last bottle, her hands shaking as she crouched down, trying to crawl under the rising door. her breath came in short, panicked gasps, her chest tight with terror as the door seemed to move at a snail’s pace. the cold concrete scraped against her palms and knees as she scrambled to escape.

but just as she was about to slip out, the figure reached up and pressed the button, sending the door back down with a jarring thud. her heart lurched in her chest as she realized what was happening, her eyes widening in horror.

“no, no, no!” she cried, scrambling to get out before the door closed completely. But the figure was faster, their gloved hand latching onto the hem of her dress, yanking her back with a force that sent her sprawling. the garage door continued its descent, trapping her underneath as it closed, her body pinned against the cold concrete. she tried to crawl out, to free herself, but the door kept coming down, pressing her harder into the ground. her screams were muffled by the steel, the sound of her panic echoing in the confined space.

the figure watched, their head tilted to the side as if they were considering something. then, with a chilling calmness, they spoke, their voice low and mocking.

“did all the work for me,” the figure said, their tone laced with satisfaction as jennie’s body was slowly crushed beneath the door. her breath came in ragged gasps, her mind reeling from the pain, the sheer terror of what was happening to her. her screams caught in her throat as the door finally settled, the cold metal pressing down on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs. her vision blurred, her world narrowing to the intense pain and the horrifying realization that she was about to die.

“quite the catch,” the figure said, their voice cold and detached as they watched jennie’s body twitch beneath the door. there was no pity, no remorse in their tone, just a chilling satisfaction as her life slipped away. the last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her whole was the figure’s voice, echoing in the stillness of the garage, a final, cruel taunt as she slipped into oblivion.

the soft thrum of bass-heavy music from the party downstairs barely reached kai's bedroom, muffled by the thick walls and closed door. you lay sprawled across his king-sized bed, the silken sheets cool against your flushed skin. the room spun slightly from the alcohol, your limbs heavy and loose as you sank deeper into the mattress, too intoxicated to care about anything else. the world outside the door, the raucous chaos of the party, felt miles away as you closed your eyes, letting the comfort of the bed envelop you.

a faint knock echoed through the room, so soft you barely registered it. in any other state, the sound would’ve sent a jolt of fear through your system, but now, it was almost comforting, a familiar rhythm that set your heart at ease. there was no hesitation, no sense of dread—just a warmth spreading through your chest as the door creaked open.

a smile tugged at your lips, lazy and affectionate, as you watched him enter. he was as disheveled as you were, the same unsteady, drunken sway to his movements. His presence filled the room, the air thickening with an almost electric charge as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“hey, you,” you murmured, your voice slurred with alcohol and affection. he didn’t respond with words, just a knowing smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. the black and white mask obscured his features, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, the way he looked at you with a mixture of desire and something darker, something more dangerous. he was right in front of you now, and you didn’t hesitate. your hands reached out, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him down onto the bed with you. he let out a surprised laugh as he collapsed on top of you, his body warm and solid against yours.

“how do you expect me to kiss you with this mask on?” you teased, your fingers already slipping beneath the edges of the mask, tugging it off his face. he didn’t resist, letting you reveal the familiar features beneath, the sharp lines of his jaw, the fullness of his lips twisted into a smirk that made your heart race. the black cloak he wore was loose, the fabric cool beneath your hands as you traced your fingers over it, feeling the muscles tense beneath his clothes. his smile widened, a glint of something wicked in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“it’s still dirty,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. taehyung paused, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he continued, “you must’ve gotten her good.”

your heart skipped a beat, the world slowing down for a moment as his words sank in. the meaning behind them, the dark thrill of your shared secret, sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins, chasing away the last remnants of drunken haze. you pressed your knee into his clothed crotch, feeling the way his breath hitched, the way his body reacted to your touch. “she did all the work for me,” you whispered, your voice low and seductive, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his neck. he groaned softly, his hands tightening their grip on you as you continued, “hanging from the door like a flag, you should’ve seen it.”

his eyes darkened, a feral hunger in his gaze as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “you’re gonna get us caught if you keep pulling this shit.” a moan slipped past your lips as his thumb pressed against your lower lip, his eyes locked on yours as you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. you could taste the salt of his skin, the faintest hint of alcohol lingering on him as you swirled your tongue around his thumb, drawing a deep groan from his chest.

“she had it coming for talking about you the way she did,” you murmured around his thumb, your voice muffled but clear in its intent. his thumb left your mouth, trailing down to spread the spit across your lips, smearing the wetness in a way that made your breath catch. “just like hyein,” you added, your voice a breathy whisper as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. taehyung’s smirk grew wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a single kiss to your lips, soft and fleeting.

“getting yunho was just as easy,” he purred, his voice like silk as it wrapped around you, making your head spin with the implications of his words. his lips hovered over yours, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “no one gets to look at you the way i do.”

and then, the distance between you vanished, his lips crashing into yours with a heat that seared through your entire being. the kiss was intense, a wild clash of tongues and teeth, a desperate, all-consuming need that neither of you could ignore. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as his hand tightened around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head swim, to make you gasp against his mouth. he devoured you, his kiss rough and demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he needed to mark you, claim you as his in every way possible. and you let him, every fiber of your being surrendering to the dark, twisted desire that had brought you both to this moment, your shared secret binding you together in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, locked in a passionate embrace that threatened to consume you both.

his other hand found its way to your chest, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it aside to expose your bare skin to the cool air. he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that left you trembling. “so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as his thumb circled one of your nipples, watching it pebble beneath his touch. you arched into his hand, a soft moan escaping your lips as he pinched it lightly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. your hips bucked against his, desperation building in your core, the need for more overwhelming you. he chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours as he bent his head, his mouth closing over your sensitive tit, his teeth grazing it just hard enough to make you cry out.

the sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he ripped your shirt away completely, his mouth moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your nails digging into his back as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. taehyung’s hand trailed down your stomach, slipping into the waistband of your pants, his fingertips grazing your wet pussy. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you moan his name, a desperate plea for more. without warning, he pulled his hand away, leaving you panting and needy.

he sat back on his heels, his eyes on your flushed face, the smug look in his eyes making your stomach clench. “you want it?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “want me to fuck you like the slut you are?” you nodded, unable to form words, your eyes never leaving his. with a wicked grin, he stood up, pulling you with him so that you were on your knees in front of him.

“then prove it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “take my cock out and suck it like you’ve never had anything better in your mouth.” you eagerly complied, your hands shaking as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard length. you took it in your mouth, the taste of him making your eyes roll back in your head, the way he filled you up making you feel so fucking alive. he groaned, his hand fisting in your hair as he began to fuck your mouth, his hips driving into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect. and you loved every second of it, the feel of him stretching your lips, the way his cock hit the back of your throat, the power he had over you in that moment. it was intoxicating, addictive, a dance of control and submission that you never wanted to end. but he needed it to end, he needed to fill you up. before doing so, he needed a taste of you.

he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his eyes glazed with lust as he stepped back, pushing you onto the bed. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice firm. you did as you were told, your heart racing as you felt him climb onto the bed behind you. your pants were already around your ankles, your pussy exposed and begging for his attention. his hand came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing in the quiet room, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. “spread your legs,” he demanded, and you obeyed, feeling vulnerable and exposed in the best way possible. his hand moved between your legs, his fingers sliding through your wetness before pushing inside you, his thumb circling your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. his other hand wrapped around your throat again, the pressure building as he began to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb pressing down on your clit with every thrust. your moans grew louder, more desperate, your body writhing under his touch.

his voice was a harsh whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” you nodded, unable to form words as he worked your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. and then, just as you felt yourself about to fall over, he stopped, his hand leaving your pussy to come down on your ass again, the sting of the slap making you gasp. “you can’t cum until i’m inside you,” he said, his voice a mix of pleasure and threat. your pussy clenched around his fingers, desperate for more, and he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

you watched, mesmerized, as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your juices. “are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. and then, with one swift, brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. you screamed, the pleasure and pain mixing into a heady cocktail that had you seeing white. he didn’t give you time to adjust, just began to fuck you, hard and fast, his grip on your throat tightening as he drove into you. your walls clamped down around him, your body desperately trying to keep him inside, to never let him go.

his hand left your throat, his fingers finding their way to your mouth, pushing themselves inside, making you gag. “suck them clean,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. you obeyed, your mouth moving over his fingers, sucking them clean of your juices. the humiliation of it only added to the thrill, the taste of yourself on his fingers making you even wetter. and then, with his hand fisted in your hair, he pulled you back, his cock sliding out of you with a wet sound that made you whimper. “turn around,” he said, his voice dark. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum.”

you rolled onto your back, your legs spread wide, your pussy glistening with need. taehyung climbed over you, his cock poised at your entrance again. “ask for it,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. “please,” you whispered, your voice a desperate whine. “please, taehyung, fuck me. make me cum for you.” he didn't comply instantly, no. you watched him with careful, desperate eyes that, despite your intoxicated state, couldn't help but widen as you watched him pull the mask over his face. it shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the sight of him in the same mask you had on hours prior—it did it for you. as twisted and demented as he was, you didn't care. because, you were worse.

the mask was vicious, his clothed eyes gleaming with triumph as he slammed into you, his hips moving with a brutal rhythm that had you clawing at the bed, your nails digging into the sheets. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “you like that?” he asked, his voice taunting and muffled. “you like it when i fuck you like a whore?” you nodded, your eyes never leaving his, the words only serving to turn you on more. his hand moved from your hair to your tit, squeezing it hard, his thumb flicking at your nipple. “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my cock.” and just like that, with his words echoing in your ears.

you clawed at his arms when you finally came, your pussy clenching around his throbbing dick. you held onto him desperately, teary eyes boring into the mask's soulless, black ones as you came with a moan. you could feel his sloppy pace reaching its peak, his hips slamming against yours as he threw his head back, a loud moan passing his lips as his hips stuttered, every rope of thick, sticky cum filling you up.

the room was thick with the scent of sweat and lust, the sheets tangled around your limbs as you lay tangled with taehyung, your bodies glistening in the dim light. the frantic heat still lingered in the air, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to catch it, your skin pressed against his. his arm was draped over your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip as you both reveled in the afterglow, a sense of satisfaction and victory hanging between you.

but then, cutting through the hazy warmth of the moment, the shrill wail of police sirens pierced the night air. the sound was distant at first, but growing closer, louder, with each passing second. your heart seized in your chest, the intoxicating haze evaporating in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard fear. you could feel him tense beside you, his hand freezing on your hip as your wide eyes met his, panic flickering across his features. “shit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. the reality of the situation crashed down on you, all traces of your earlier euphoria vanishing as the sirens drew nearer, the flashing blue and red lights casting an eerie glow through the window.

he was already moving, his body a blur of motion as he threw the sheets off, scrambling to grab the black and white mask that had been tossed carelessly to the floor in the heat of the moment. you followed suit, adrenaline surging through your veins as you hurried to pull on whatever clothes you could find scattered around the room. “we need to get out of here,” you urged him, your voice tight with urgency as you stumbled over to the window, throwing it open. the cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room, making you shiver as you glanced back at him.

taehyung was already folding the mask into the black cloak, his movements quick and efficient despite the tremor in his hands. he looked up at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else—something darker, more determined. “they can’t catch us,” he said, his voice low but firm as he stepped over to you, the cloak bundled in his arms. you nodded, swallowing hard as you glanced out the window, assessing the drop to the ground below. it wasn’t too high, but with the sirens growing louder by the second, it might as well have been a cliff.

“go,” you urged him again, your voice cracking with the weight of the situation. “i’ll be right behind you.” he didn’t need any more convincing. he hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, his movements fluid and practiced as he glanced back at you one last time, a flicker of something passing between you—a silent understanding, a promise.

and then he was gone, dropping down from the window, landing with a soft thud on the grass below. you wasted no time, clambering up onto the sill, your heart in your throat as you took one last look at the bedroom, at the scene you were leaving behind. you dropped down beside him, the impact jarring your legs, but you pushed through the discomfort, the fear driving you forward. he grabbed your hand the moment you landed, his grip firm and reassuring as he pulled you along, his pace quickening with each step.

you didn’t dare look back, the sound of the sirens now deafening, the flashing lights illuminating the surrounding trees as you ran. the world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to the path ahead, to the way taehyung’s hand fit so perfectly in yours, pulling you along, guiding you through the darkness. your lungs burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you pushed yourself harder, faster, refusing to slow down, to let the fear catch up to you. the night air was cold against your skin, the chill biting at your exposed flesh, but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between you and the house as possible.

his hands were shaking as he fumbled with the keys, the metal clinking ominously in the quiet of the night. your breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as you watched him struggle, the weight of your recent escape pressing heavily upon you. the police sirens had long since faded, but the tension remained, a palpable reminder of the chaos you had just fled.

he finally managed to get the key into the lock, but as he turned it, the door refused to budge. the sound of the bolt sliding back met with a soft click, and you could see the glow of light from within spilling out into the darkness. the door was locked, but the lights were on, a strange contradiction that only heightened the sense of unease swirling around you. his breath hitched, a mix of frustration and apprehension etched onto his face. he pushed against the door, his shoulder braced against it, and it swung open with a reluctant groan. the living room was illuminated, casting long shadows against the walls, and there, sprawled casually on the couch, was kai.

the sight of him froze you both in place. taehyung’s face was a mask of shock and confusion, and you felt a chill creep up your spine. kai’s manic grin was unmistakable, but there was a frenetic edge to it that sent a shiver down your back. he looked up at you both, his eyes wild and unblinking, a frenzied energy crackling around him.

“hey,” he said, his voice high-pitched, almost giddy. “just had a question. been nagging me the last three hours.”

the silence was oppressive, a heavy blanket that seemed to suffocate the room. kai’s eyes darted between you and taehyung, the intensity of his gaze sharpening as he continued, “which one of you killed my girlfriend?”

the words hung in the air like a thick fog, each syllable punctuated by a dreadful silence. your heart pounded in your chest as kai’s eyes fell on the cloak in taehyung’s hands. his laughter erupted suddenly, a jarring, discordant sound that had no trace of humor in it. “it couldn’t have been you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with a twisted sort of amusement. “no, it had to be her.”

his gaze turned toward you, darkening with malice. “you just had to, didn’t you?” you met his eyes with a steady resolve, stepping forward as you replied, “she had it coming.”

kai’s manic energy seemed to intensify, his movements erratic as he continued, “no, no, see, there’s a big difference. when i came to your place and fucked you over, you didn’t think for a second that it was me, did you?”

the revelation hit like a punch to the gut, leaving both you and taehyung stunned into silence. the room seemed to spin, the enormity of his words reverberating through you, punctuated only by his cackles that seemed to grow more unhinged with each passing second. “it’s a shame it had to end like this,” kai said, a dark satisfaction in his voice as he began to reach for his gun, his movements slow but deliberate.

without a moment’s hesitation, you drew your own pistol, the cold metal weight steady in your hand. the sharp report of the gunshot shattered the air, and his body lurched backward, the impact of the bullet slamming into his chest. he staggered, falling to the floor with a ragged gasp, his eyes wide with shock and pain. as he struggled, gasping for breath, you walked over to him with a calm, purposeful stride. his hand reached for his own gun, but you were quicker. you kicked it away, the weapon skidding across the floor, and then you knelt beside him, the barrel of your pistol still warm from the recent discharge.

“didn’t think for a second that i was armed too, did you?” you said, your voice low, almost mocking.

his eyes burned with anger and desperation, his mouth moving in a silent snarl as he reached out, his hand clawing at the floor. his breaths came in ragged, painful gasps, and you could see the life slipping from his eyes, a flicker of defiance lingering until the very end.

“you,” he managed to rasp, his voice barely a whisper now, filled with rage and betrayal. but the words were his last, the fire in his eyes fading to a cold, empty stare as the life drained from him. before he was gone, you leaned in closer, your gaze meeting his with a steely resolve. “say hi to jennie for us,” you said, your voice steady and unyielding.

hia eyes, still burning with that final spark of fury, locked onto you for one last, lingering moment before they went vacant. the struggle ceased, his body going limp, his anger dissipating into the silence of the room. you stood up slowly, your heart still pounding but with a different rhythm now, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. taehyung moved closer, his hand resting on your back in a gesture of support and reassurance. the room was eerily quiet now, the chaos of the night giving way to a stillness that felt almost oppressive in its finality.

taehyung’s eyes were wide with uncertainty, a mix of shock and confusion etching deep lines into his features as he stared at the lifeless form of kai. he swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly as he asked, “what do we do now?”

you took a moment, your mind racing through the aftermath of the night’s harrowing events. the weight of what had just happened pressed heavily upon you, and in the eerie stillness of the room, clarity emerged from the chaos. “call the cops,” you finally said, your voice firm and resolute. taehyung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his shock evident. “call the cops?” he repeated, disbelief coloring his tone.

you nodded, tucking your gun away into the waistband of your jeans, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you covered it with your shirt. you moved with purpose, taking the cloak and mask from taehyung and placing the mask carefully next to kai’s head. the sight was almost surreal—a stark reminder of the roles you’d all played in this deadly game.

he hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen as he dialed the emergency number. “hello,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “there’s been an incident at my house. the killer was here, and my girlfriend shot him with his own gun.” he paused, listening intently as he relayed the details of the situation. after a brief exchange, he ended the call and turned back to you, his expression one of cautious resolve.

together, you both moved to dress kai in the cloak. the fabric was heavy, its dark color a stark contrast against the cold, pale skin of the deceased. taehyung’s movements were methodical, almost reverent, as he helped you fold the cloak around his body. the finality of the act was palpable, a grim reminder of the life that had been extinguished.

once he was dressed, you met taehyung’s gaze. there was a complex blend of relief and pride in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the darkness you both had been complicit in. “we did it,” he said softly, a faint, bittersweet smile curving his lips. in response, you reached up and kissed him, the touch of your lips against his both comforting and electric. the kiss was filled with unspoken words, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the turmoil.

the sound of sirens pierced through the quiet, growing louder as they approached. the flashing lights of the police cars bathed the exterior of the house in a strobe of red and blue, casting eerie shadows on the walls. you and taehyung stepped outside to meet the officers, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavily around you.

the cops moved swiftly, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos of the scene. they began by cordoning off the area, their voices authoritative as they directed one another. dorensics teams arrived, meticulously documenting the scene and examining kai’s body. the whole process felt like a surreal blur, the activity around you a stark contrast to the calm, unsettling stillness of the night before.

as the investigation unfolded, it was clear that the narrative being pieced together was one of self-defense. the officers and detectives, with their experience and training, quickly determined that kai had been the aggressor, and your actions had been in response to his threat. the cloak and mask beside him were interpreted as part of the killer’s disguise, lending further credence to the story that you had acted to protect yourself.

the official statement from the police was that kai had been the killer all this time, and your shooting him had been justified under the circumstances. you and taehyung were presented to the town as heroes—brave individuals who had faced down a menace and emerged victorious. the accolades were swift and fervent, with the local news and community rallying around you both. yet, beneath the veneer of heroism, a darker truth lingered unspoken. the town’s relief and gratitude masked the reality that you and taehyung had not simply acted in self-defense but had been players in a deadly game that had claimed more than its share of lives. the false sense of safety you projected contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the truth you both carried within.

in the aftermath, as you and taehyung stood side by side, the echoes of that night—the fear, the violence, the blood—remained with you. the town might have seen you as heroes, but you both knew the reality was far more complicated, a shadow that clung to you as you faced the new day with a somber understanding of the darkness that had driven you to this point.

✧.*

a/n: im ngl i was gonna kill taehyung off im being way too nice

under the moon (달 아래) — kim namjoon (김남준)

this is part one, part two can be found here

✧.*

life had unraveled like the frayed edges of a delicate drapery. each thread that once held your world together seemed to have slipped through your fingers, leaving you grasping at memories that no longer felt like your own. the air had grown heavier, thick with a silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. colors that once brightened your days had faded to muted shades, as if the world itself had lost its vibrancy, reflecting the numbness that settled deep within you.

time moved differently, stretching endlessly in moments that felt like they would never end, yet slipping away in a haze when you tried to grasp it. nights bled into days, marked only by the quiet echoes of thoughts you couldn’t quite escape, thoughts that circled in your mind like a storm you couldn’t find shelter from. you were adrift, untethered, as if the solid ground you once stood on had crumbled beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a void where nothing made sense.

even the simple things, the ones you had taken for granted, felt foreign and out of reach. laughter sounded distant, like a memory of a dream you weren’t sure you ever had. the warmth of sunlight on your skin felt like a distant echo of a comfort you could no longer feel. you had become a stranger in your own life, watching from a distance as it fell apart, powerless to stop the pieces from scattering.

you sat on the docks, your feet dangling over the edge, barely touching the cold, dark water below. the wooden planks were weathered and rough beneath you, each one holding the memory of countless others who had sat here before, lost in their own thoughts. the day was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, the gentle lapping of the waves the only sound breaking the silence. above, the sky was a vast expanse of blue, dotted with stars that seemed too far away to matter.

in your hand was a bottle of soju, the cool glass damp from the night air. you had been nursing it for a while, taking slow, deliberate sips, letting the burn settle in your chest before swallowing it down like a bitter truth. each sip felt like a small rebellion against the ache that had taken residence in your heart, but it did little to numb the pain.

the events of the past few days replayed in your mind, each one sharper than the last. you had trusted him, loved him with a fierceness that scared you at times. but he had left you, not just abandoned, but burdened with the weight of his debt—debts you hadn’t even known existed until the collectors came knocking. and as if that betrayal wasn’t enough, he had left you for your best friend. confronting her had been like walking into a nightmare. the hurt in her eyes when you accused her, the way she had looked at you with pity, not guilt. you had expected an apology, a confession that she had made a mistake, but instead, she had stood by him, unwavering. his mother’s arrival had only made things worse, her voice shrill and unforgiving as she berated you, her book club friends nodding along, their eyes filled with judgment. you hadn’t meant to cause a scene, but their anger, their righteousness, had pushed you out, sent you running until you found yourself here, alone.

you took another long drink from the bottle, the alcohol warming your throat as it went down, but leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. the docks had always been your refuge, a place where you could escape the noise of the world, but tonight, even the quiet seemed to mock you. you stared out at the horizon, the lights of the distant city blinking like tiny, indifferent stars, and you wondered how everything had gone so wrong.

a rustle caught your attention, and you glanced to your side. across from you, not too far away, sat a homeless man, his clothes tattered and worn, his face weathered by years of hardship. his eyes, however, were sharp, and they were fixed on the bottle in your hand. he didn’t say anything, just watched you with a mix of curiosity and hunger, and you could see the desire for a drink etched in the lines of his face. you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, and without a word, you extended the bottle towards him. he hesitated for a moment, then shuffled closer, his movements slow and deliberate. he took the bottle from your hand with a nod of thanks, but still, neither of you spoke.

the silence stretched between you, thick and impenetrable, as he took a swig from the bottle. you watched him, noting the way his hands trembled slightly as he drank, the way his eyes closed for a brief moment as the alcohol slid down his throat. he settled beside you, the two of you sitting in a shared, unspoken understanding of the night’s loneliness.

“do you ever wish you could sleep for the next hundred years?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely louder than a whisper. the words had slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet admission of the exhaustion that had seeped into your bones. you didn’t expect an answer, and the man didn’t offer one. he continued to stare out at the water, the bottle now resting in his lap, his silence a mirror to your own thoughts.

but you couldn’t stop. the words kept spilling out, each one tugged from the depths of your sorrow. “life is awful,” you continued, your voice cracking with the weight of the truth. “every time i think it’s getting better, it just gets worse. it’s like some cruel joke, this constant cycle of hope and disappointment.” the man didn’t move, didn’t even look at you. his silence was deafening, yet somehow comforting in its neutrality. he wasn’t there to judge or console, just to listen—or maybe, not even that. perhaps he was just a presence, a reminder that you weren’t entirely alone, even if it felt like it.

your voice faltered, and you felt the first sting of tears burning at the corners of your eyes. you tried to hold them back, to swallow the sobs that were building in your chest, but it was useless. the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your cries. the tears were hot against your skin, your sobs muffled as you tucked your head between your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible, to disappear into the night.

for a long while, the only sound was your crying, the grief pouring out of you in waves. the man remained silent, his gaze now fixed somewhere in the distance, as if he was watching a world that neither of you could see. you didn’t expect him to comfort you, didn’t even want him to. all you needed was to release the pain that had been choking you since everything had fallen apart.

when your tears had subsided into soft, hiccupping breaths, the man shifted beside you. he sighed, a deep, resigned sound, and for the first time, he spoke. his voice was rough, like gravel being dragged across pavement, but there was a quiet wisdom in it, a hard-earned understanding of the world. “life won’t get better just because you want it to,” he said, his words hanging in the cold air between you. he didn’t offer any more than that, no advice or platitudes, just the blunt truth that he had learned over years of hardship.

he stood up slowly, the bottle now empty in his hand, and he moved a few feet away, curling up on the wooden planks with his back to you. you watched as he settled down, pulling a tattered blanket around himself, his body already relaxing into sleep. the conversation was over, and you were left alone again, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. you stared at the empty spot beside you, where the bottle had rested just moments before, and felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. life wouldn’t get better just because you wanted it to, but you hadn’t given up wanting, not yet.

you stood on the edge of the docks, the wooden planks beneath your feet creaking softly as you stared out at the water. the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light casting long, warm reflections on the rippling surface of the bay. the distant murmur of the city seemed to fade as your gaze followed the gentle dance of the waves, their rhythmic motion both calming and hypnotic. it was then you heard it—a sudden splash that jolted you from your reverie.

you turned swiftly, eyes scanning the dock for the source of the disturbance. panic gripped you as you spotted a small figure struggling in the water. a little boy, no older than six, flailed desperately, his tiny arms reaching out as he bobbed helplessly. his parents, oblivious to the danger, chatted animatedly on the dock, their laughter ringing hollow in the midst of the growing crisis.

your heart raced, and you glanced over at the homeless man who usually occupied a corner of the docks. he lay slumped against a crate, fast asleep, his tattered coat pulled tightly around him. desperation surged through you as you realized the responsibility of the moment fell squarely on your shoulders. you cursed under your breath, frustration and fear mingling as you pushed yourself into action.

without a second thought, you sprinted toward the edge of the dock. the world seemed to blur around you as you dove into the cold, dark water. the shock of the chill hit you hard, and for a split second, you were enveloped in a freezing embrace. the surface above you shimmered faintly, growing dimmer as you plunged deeper. your limbs cut through the water with urgency, each stroke bringing you closer to the struggling boy.

when you finally reached him, his face was etched with sheer terror, his eyes wide and glassy. you grabbed him firmly, wrapping your arms around his small, shivering body. he clung to you with a vice-like grip, his sobs muffled by the water. you kicked with all your might, pushing upwards, determined to get him to safety. as you breached the surface, the dimming light of the sun cast eerie shadows across the water. you could see the boy’s father now, his face a mask of fear and urgency as he maneuvered a small raft toward you. with a final burst of energy, you managed to get the boy onto the raft. the father, his face etched with gratitude, reached out a hand towards you.

you were about to grasp it when you noticed something strange. the sun, which had been steadily sinking, was now obscured by an enormous, dark shadow. your gaze followed the shadow up, and your breath caught in your throat. the sun was being eclipsed, a celestial body slipping between you and its light. the sky darkened abruptly, the shadow growing ever larger, swallowing the golden hue with an ominous, encroaching blackness.

panic gripped you anew as the raft’s father shouted at you to take his hand. but before you could respond, a strange, powerful force seemed to pull at you from below. the water beneath you churned violently, dragging you down with an insistent, merciless strength. the familiar warmth of the sun’s rays was now a distant memory, replaced by the encroaching darkness. you struggled against the pull, but the force was overwhelming. as you descended, the water around you grew darker and colder. You glanced up one last time, the surface above you now a faint, distant blur. the sun was gone, and the moon seemed to press down on you with an oppressive, unyielding presence.

in the depths of the water, you began to see fleeting, fragmented visions—glimpses of your best friend, their face full of concern; your boyfriend, looking at you with eyes filled with love and worry. these images flickered like memories on the brink of dissolution, fading in and out as you sank deeper and deeper. the darkness enveloped you, the water now a viscous black void. you reached out, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to hold onto. the last remnants of light slipped away, and with a final, desperate gasp, everything went black.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets of the goryeo dynasty's capital. a palpable excitement filled the air as the crowd gathered, their murmurs rising to a crescendo as they awaited the arrival of the imperial procession. the cobblestone streets seemed to vibrate with anticipation as the riders galloped in, their horses' hooves striking the ground in rhythmic beats. the crowd parted respectfully, creating a clear path for the approaching figures.

the lead rider, whose face was partially obscured by an ornate mask, exuded an aura of authority. despite the mask, his commanding presence was unmistakable. as he drew closer, the mask was subtly lifted, revealing the sharp features of kim namjoon, the fourth imperial prince of goryeo. his eyes, sharp and discerning, surveyed the crowd with a mix of regality and practiced indifference.

at the palace, the scene was one of a different nature entirely. the atmosphere within the grand palace complex was a blend of opulence and casual domesticity. In the palace's expansive hot springs, a more relaxed environment prevailed. the tenth prince, baekhyun, splashed gleefully in the steaming waters, his laughter echoing off the stone walls. his actions were a far cry from the formalities of court life, displaying a childlike exuberance that was both endearing and mischievous.

beside him, the fourteenth prince, kang daniel, remained close, his presence a constant in baekhyun’s playful antics. daniel’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he engaged in the water games, showing a loyalty and camaraderie that was evident in their every interaction. the water playfully splashed around them, creating a lively contrast to the otherwise serene setting. the third prince, kang chaehee, observed from a slightly elevated edge of the hot springs, a sly scowl playing on his lips. his eyes followed the two princes with an air of calculated disbelief, as though he were silently plotting his next move or simply reveling in their stupidity.

the thirteenth prince, kang younghyun, joined the others with a warm smile, his entrance into the water adding a new layer of mirth to the scene. younghyun’s demeanor was that of a congenial companion, blending effortlessly into the group as he splashed and laughed with baekhyun and daniel.

the eighth prince, kang chwe hansol, watched the scene unfold with a calm and thoughtful expression. his gaze, serene and contemplative, contrasted with the playful energy of the younger princes. hansol’s mind was occupied with matters of the palace and the well-being of its occupants, a duty that seemed to weigh heavily on him. the ninth prince, kang yeosang, also observed from a distance, his face a mask of indifference. his role in the royal family was less pronounced, but his presence was a constant backdrop to the more dominant personalities of his brothers.

as the evening wore on, hansol noted the conspicuous absence of the fourth prince. his brow furrowed slightly in concern. “if namjoon is any later,” he said thoughtfully, “he’ll miss the ritual ceremony.” the ritual itself played a vital role in the dynasty as a whole, a tradition that had gone on for what could have been centuries. its purpose was not only to bring the princes together, but to rid them and the palace of spirits and hexes.

baekhyun, still immersed in the water, nudged daniel playfully. “i heard,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “that namjoon’s been killing people like a wolf. maybe we’ll be next.” he let out a playful howl, imitating a wolf with exaggerated movements. chaehee’s eyes narrowed, and he chided sang with a tone of authority. “quiet, baekhyun. this is all but the time for such nonsense.”

just as baekhyun began to submerge himself deeper into the water, a sudden figure emerged behind him. you gasped for air, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch your breath. the shock of the cold water and the realization of being in such a strange and precarious situation overwhelmed you. your mind raced, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

baekhyun turned around abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at you. “there’s a girl in the water!” he called out in shock, his voice carrying across the hot springs.

the princes froze, their expressions shifting from surprise to confusion as they took in the unexpected sight. before you could fully process the situation, a voice to your left beckoned you. you turned to see a slave girl standing at the edge of the hot springs in the bushes, her eyes darting nervously between you and the assembled princes. she gestured urgently for you to come over and whispered a name that you struggled to understand—“come on, my lady nabi.”

you had no clear idea of what she was saying, but the urgency in her voice compelled you to follow. you moved toward her, the water clinging to you as you emerged from the hot springs, your movements slow and hesitant. the princes watched in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on you. hansol’s eyes widened slightly as he processed the situation. “na…bi?” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the rippling water. the name hung in the air, its significance unclear but laden with an unsettling sense of foreboding.

the slave girl, chayeon, moved swiftly and decisively, her demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. her clothes, though simple and practical, were impeccably clean, and her face wore an expression of stern disapproval. she guided you away from the hot springs, her hands gripping your arm with a firmness that left no room for argument.

“lady nabi, what are you doing here?” she scolded, her voice a sharp whisper that cut through the murmurs of the princes. “you mustn’t be here. how did you end up in the water? this is no place for you!” her words came rapid-fire, her frustration palpable. her eyes scanned you, as if seeking to understand how you had arrived in such a predicament.

as she ushered you away, her scolding continued, though her voice softened slightly. “are you feeling alright now? are you hurt?” her concern, though genuine, was laced with an undercurrent of irritation. the whirlwind of her reprimand left you bewildered, struggling to make sense of your surroundings.

you were still disoriented from the cold shock of the water and the suddenness of the situation. you wondered why chayeon kept addressing you as “lady,” and why you had been dragged into this unfamiliar place. your confusion deepened as you took in the scene before you.

the outdoor pools, set amidst the grand palace grounds, were filled with people clad in elaborate period clothing. their garments were rich with color and intricate designs, the fabrics shimmering in the soft light of the setting sun. the setting was almost idyllic, with the gentle sounds of the water mingling with the low hum of conversation. it struck you with a sense of surrealism—the opulence and the formality of the setting contrasted sharply with the disarray of your predicament.

a growing realization began to dawn on you. the period clothing, the palace surroundings, the way chayeon addressed you—it all seemed to indicate that you had somehow crossed into another realm, a place that bore the hallmarks of the hereafter. the thought was disorienting and unsettling. overwhelmed and unable to process the strange new reality, your vision began to blur. the world around you grew dim, and with a final, desperate gasp, you fainted, collapsing into the comforting embrace of darkness.

the fourth prince made his entrance at the palace gates. his arrival was marked by an imposing presence, the grandeur of his attire and the regal bearing of his posture commanding attention. as he rode through the gates, his lead attendant followed closely, speaking with a tone that was both respectful and cautious.

“your highness,” the attendant said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “remember to uphold the honor of your adopted family name before the king. after your audience, you will need to return to shinju.” namjoon’s face twisted into a sneer at the mention of his adopted status. his tone was laced with sarcasm as he replied, “ah, yes. i had forgotten that i’m not just an adopted son but a hostage in this palace.”

his demeanor hardened as he rode further into the palace grounds. the vast courtyard stretched out before him, the silence heavy with the weight of his impending actions. he dismounted with a grace that belied the storm brewing within him. his hand moved to his sword, and in a swift, decisive motion, he drew it from its sheath.

the courtyard was filled with startled gasps as namjoon took a swing and, to everyone’s horror, struck his horse. the animal reared up, a cry of pain escaping its throat before collapsing to the ground, lifeless. the suddenness of the act stunned everyone into silence. the scene was one of utter shock, with onlookers frozen in place, their eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fear.

a soldier stepped forward, his voice trembling as he stuttered, “your highness, you’re not allowed to carry a sword inside the palace.” he extended his hand, a gesture that seemed both hesitant and necessary. namjoon’s expression remained unchanged, his eyes cold and unyielding. without a word, he handed over the sword, the metal gleaming ominously as it was taken from him. the soldier, still visibly shaken, added, “i will prepare a horse for your departure.”

namjoon’s response was delivered with an unyielding finality. “i won’t be going back,” he declared, his voice echoing with a resolve that left no room for further discussion. he wasn’t going back, he wasn’t going to allow himself to return to shinju as a hostage.

the world around you began to coalesce into something more tangible as you slowly regained consciousness. the first thing you noticed was the softness of the bed beneath you. it was an opulent four-poster, draped in rich, dark fabrics that exuded an air of both comfort and grandeur. the room was lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp, and the furnishings, though elegant, felt strangely foreign.

you groaned softly, your head throbbing with an intensity that made it difficult to focus. the pain was sharp and persistent, a constant reminder of the disorienting turn your life had taken. as you attempted to sit up, a woman in traditional attire entered the room, her presence graceful and composed. she had an air of authority about her, and she approached with a concerned expression.

“nabi,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. the name felt like an intrusion into your fragile state of awareness, and you looked up at her with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“what do you mean, nabi?” you asked, your voice strained. “i’m (y/n) (l/n).” the declaration felt weak even as you spoke it, and you noticed the woman’s eyes widening in surprise. the woman’s face reflected a mix of shock and disbelief. “you’re not nabi?” she repeated, her tone tinged with uncertainty. her gaze darted between you and the door, as though she were expecting someone else to appear.

realization dawned on you, and a sudden, albeit delirious, laugh escaped your lips. “oh right, i died. i must be dead,” you said with a half-hearted chuckle. the absurdity of the situation hit you again, and your mind raced to piece together the fragments of your memories.

chayeon stepped into the room, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “no, you didn’t die,” she clarified. “you had a near miss, and we brought you here for safety.” her words did little to alleviate your confusion, and you blurted out, “i didn’t die?” your sense of reality felt tenuous, and your panic surged.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled toward the door, the pounding in your head growing louder with every step. the sight that greeted you outside was both breathtaking and bewildering. you found yourself in a spacious courtyard, surrounded by traditional architecture that spoke of a bygone era. the buildings were constructed with ornate wooden beams, their roofs sweeping gracefully upward in elegant curves. the lush greenery and tranquil garden added to the sense of otherworldly calm.

the unfamiliarity of the scene only heightened your alarm. “where am I?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. you turned back to lady ja, who had followed you out of the room, and pleaded for clarification.

her gaze softened with a mixture of pity and patience. “you are at the residence of the eighth prince, wang chwe hansol, in songak,” she explained. the name rang a distant bell in your memory, but the pieces were still not fitting together. as the words sank in, a realization began to form in your mind. “songak?” you repeated, the name resonating with a sense of historical significance. “is this goryeo?” the question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of historical context.

lady ja nodded, her expression confirming your growing suspicion. “yes,” she said, “the current king is taejo wang geon, the founder of goryeo.” her words struck a chord with you, and the implications of what she was saying began to crystallize.

the recognition hit you like a wave. songak was indeed the old capital city of goryeo. you were not just in a different place but in a different time altogether. the realization was both thrilling and terrifying. you had somehow been transported into the past, into the very era of taejo wang geon’s reign. the weight of the revelation was almost too much to bear. your surroundings, the people, the architecture—all of it was a vivid testament to a historical period you had only known through books and tales. you stood there, trying to come to terms with the fact that you had somehow come into someone else’s body, into a world that was both rich in history and utterly foreign to you.

lady ja’s voice broke through your thoughts. “think hard about where you are,” she urged gently. “this is the residence of prince haneul, and we must ensure that you are properly cared for.” you nodded numbly, your mind still grappling with the enormity of your situation. as you took in the sights of the palace, the historical context of your predicament began to settle into place. the world around you was not merely a fantastical dream but a reality rooted in a time long past.

the throne room of the goryeo palace was a place of imposing grandeur and intricate design. richly adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of historical triumphs, the walls of the room gleamed with polished wood and gold accents. the vast chamber was dominated by the throne itself, a majestic seat of authority, intricately carved and elevated on a dais.

king taejo wang geon presided over the court with a gravity befitting his esteemed position. his regal presence commanded attention, his robes a cascade of deep, rich colors that spoke of both power and tradition. at his side were the six princes, each seated in a manner that reflected their rank and status. however, the fourth prince, namjoon, was notably absent from this gathering, his absence a conspicuous gap in the otherwise well-ordered assembly.

the tension in the room was palpable as an official presented a dead bird, its lifeless form displayed for all to see. the bird had fallen dead after a single bite from the crown prince’s breakfast, an unsettling testament to possible tampering. the sight of the dead creature stirred murmurs of concern among those in attendance.

king taejo's gaze was sharp and unwavering as he addressed the issue. “find the culprit responsible for this heinous act,” he commanded, his voice echoing with the weight of authority. the room fell into a hushed silence as the gravity of the situation sank in.

amidst the tension, jackson wang, a cousin of the king, stepped forward with a calculated expression. his tone was smooth yet insistent. “your majesty,” he began, “i must speak. there are growing concerns about the crown prince, wang taehyung. rumors suggest that he suffers from an incurable disease, and some believe he is unfit to assume the throne.” the words hung in the air, charged with implications. his proposal was audacious, but not without precedent in the power struggles of the royal court. he entreatied taejo to consider dethroning wang taehyung and replacing him with another prince. the notion of replacing the crown prince was met with a mix of surprise and unease from those present.

outside the throne room, crown prince taehyung himself arrived just in time to overhear jackson’s suggestion. his expression was one of barely contained frustration and hurt, his position at the heart of the debate adding to his evident distress. he hesitated at the door, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the gravity of the situation. inside the throne room, king taejo turned his attention to the remaining princes, his gaze probing and expectant. “do any of you agree with wang jackson’s proposal?” he asked, his voice laced with the tension of the moment. “is there anyone among you who would like to see the crown prince replaced?”

the princes exchanged glances, their reactions a mix of anxiety and discomfort. some avoided eye contact, while others looked visibly taken aback by the king’s question. the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty as they weighed their options, each one acutely aware of the delicate nature of the discussion.

the eighth prince was the first to break the silence. with a calm yet resolute demeanor, hansol moved forward and knelt before the king. “your majesty,” he said earnestly, “i beseech you to reconsider these words. there is no one among us who wishes to replace crown prince tae. we are united in our belief that he is the rightful heir.” his plea was followed swiftly by the thirteenth prince, who also approached the throne and knelt. “i too implore you, your majesty, to retract this proposal. crown prince taehyung is our leader, and we support him wholeheartedly.”

third prince chaehee was next to kneel, his actions reflecting the collective sentiment of the princes. his expression was guarded, but his voice carried a sense of urgency as he added his support to the plea. the younger princes, recognizing the shift in the room, followed suit. they too knelt, their voices merging in a unified plea for the king to reconsider. “please, your majesty,” they said in chorus, “do not dismiss crown prince taehyung. he is deserving of his position.”

in the midst of this fervent display of loyalty, king taejo called forth his esteemed astrologer and fortune-reader, choi jisoo. the elderly man, dressed in robes adorned with celestial patterns, approached the throne with a measured step. he began his explanation with a reverent tone, his words flowing with the weight of ancient knowledge. “the stars,” he began, “do not indicate that the crown prince is unfit. instead, they reveal a future filled with promise and stability. the alignment of the stars suggests that crown prince tae is destined to lead with wisdom and strength.”

the king listened intently as he continued to elaborate on the celestial omens, his confidence in the prince’s future unwavering. the explanations of the stars, combined with the united front of the princes, seemed to sway the king’s judgment.

king taejo’s expression softened as he addressed the court. “i have heard your pleas,” he declared. “i reaffirm that crown prince taehyung will take the leading position in the upcoming rites. his position is secure, and he shall fulfill his duties as our future sovereign.” the room erupted into a murmur of relief and approval, but not all were pleased with the outcome. hyun’s expression darkened, a subtle shift in his demeanor betraying his displeasure. his eyes, though fleetingly narrowed, reflected a deep-seated discontent, suggesting that the issue was far from resolved.

in the lavishly adorned quarters of queen jiyoung, the air was filled with an opulent serenity. the queen's residence was a realm of understated luxury, with delicate silks draped over intricately carved wooden screens and the gentle flicker of oil lamps casting soft shadows across the richly decorated walls. the fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood mingled, creating an atmosphere of calm and refinement.

jiyoung, seated gracefully at a low, ornate table, was engaged in conversation with chaehee, her expression one of composed interest. her attire, resplendent in hues of deep purple and gold, emphasized her status and authority. the intricate embroidery on her gown depicted scenes of serene landscapes and mythical creatures, adding to her regal bearing.

“i must admit, chaehee,” she said, her voice smooth yet laced with an edge of surprise, “i didn't expect crown prince taehyung to emerge from this latest crisis unscathed. i had anticipated that his position would be in jeopardy, particularly with the evidence presented against him.”

chaehee, standing by her side with an air of practiced deference, offered a sympathetic smile. “your majesty, it seems the king has decided to keep the crown prince in his position for now. the princes’ pleas and the astrologer’s predictions seem to have swayed him.” her gaze hardened slightly, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface of the table.

a court lady approached with a respectful bow, interrupting their conversation. “your majesty,” she began, her voice tentative, “there is a visitor outside requesting an audience. he has been waiting for some time.” jiyoung’s expression shifted to one of irritation. “a visitor? at this hour? who could it be?” her tone was sharp, revealing her displeasure at the interruption.

the court lady hesitated before responding. “it is your son, prince namjoon, your majesty. he has been waiting outside for your presence.”

jiyoung’s irritation grew palpable. her sons were often seen as pawns in the grand scheme of palace politics, and the timing of this interruption seemed particularly inconvenient. “prince namjoon?” she repeated, her voice tinged with frustration. “i have no time for such distractions right now. tell him to leave. i am not to be disturbed.” the court lady bowed deeply, her face a mask of regret as she turned to deliver the message. “yes, your majesty,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of her duty.

the night descended upon songak with a veil of darkness, its silence broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind against the palace walls. within the confines of your room, the atmosphere was heavy with a sense of desolation and uncertainty. You had locked yourself away, seeking refuge in the solitude of the opulent space, but it offered little solace.

the room was adorned with luxurious fabrics and furnishings, yet the grandeur did little to dispel the turmoil within you. you huddled on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the silken covers but feeling cold and detached. your mind replayed the events of the day with haunting clarity. the dead bird, the tense courtroom, and the disturbing reality of your situation all blended into a nightmarish haze.

as you shivered beneath the covers, you grappled with the reality of your existence. “did i die in the water that day?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling in the quiet room. the thought that your host body, nabi, might have met the same fate only compounded your anxiety. the idea that you had somehow taken on nabi’s life in this strange, historical world was both disorienting and terrifying.

“am i (y/n) (l/n), or nabi?” you questioned, your voice barely more than a whisper. the realization that you were living someone else’s life was an unsettling one. yet, amidst the confusion, you decided to view this as a stroke of fortune—a new chance at life, albeit in a form you had not anticipated. if you were to continue as nabi, you resolved to make the most of the unexpected opportunity.

the enormity of your predicament loomed over you. despite your determination, you were acutely aware of how little you knew about goryeo. the intricacies of the court, the historical context, and even the line of succession were mysteries to you. you weren’t even sure which king followed taejo. your attempt to guess was a shot in the dark, and you feared it might be embarrassingly wrong. as you sat brooding, the soft murmur of voices reached your ears from outside the door. prince hansol had returned home, and you could hear him speaking with his wife, lady ja. their conversation was laden with concern.

“she was in the water for two hours before resurfacing,” lady ja was saying, her tone filled with worry. “she was like a corpse. we fear she might harm herself.” chayeon’s voice joined the conversation, her words carrying a hint of distress. “she lost her memory. we don’t know what to do.”

the weight of their concern seemed to seep through the walls, intensifying your sense of isolation. lady ja’s anxiety was palpable, and the thought of harming yourself felt like a grim possibility. the fear that you might be beyond help was overwhelming. suddenly, the door to your room was thrust open with a force that startled you. standing in the doorway was hansol, his face etched with a deep concern. his presence was commanding, yet there was a softness in his eyes that belied his authoritative stance.

“please, don’t be scared,” hansol said firmly, his voice cutting through the fog of your confusion. “i brought you here, so i will help you through to the end.”

he extended his hand toward you, his gesture a lifeline in the midst of your turmoil. he brought you there? what exactly did he mean by that? the sight of his outstretched hand seemed to pierce through the haze of your thoughts. you looked at it, feeling a mix of desperation and resolve. the prospect of remaining in this strange new world was daunting, but the notion of giving up was even more so. despite the uncertainty, a new wave of determination surged within you. the realization that you could not go back or change your appearance fueled a newfound resolve to face the challenges ahead. you took a deep breath, gathering your strength, and reached out to grasp his hand.

as your fingers closed around his, a sense of commitment and hope took root. hansol’s grip was firm and reassuring, offering a semblance of stability in the midst of your disorientation. you looked up at him, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. “i trust you,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tremor of uncertainty. “’i want to make sense of this life.”

namjoon’s mind drifted back through the fog of time, to a moment of clarity from his childhood. the memory was etched into his mind with a precision that made it feel as though it had happened only yesterday. he was a young boy then, barely old enough to understand the gravity of the world around him. the palace, once a place of warmth and familial affection, had turned cold and unwelcoming. the loss of the crown prince, taejo and jiyoung’s firstborn, had cast a shadow over the entire court. the death had shaken the very foundation of their lives, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill.

jiyoung’s grief was intense, her sorrow a constant, gnawing presence that colored her every interaction. she had been inconsolable, a stark contrast to the determined, almost clinical demeanor of king taejo. the queen’s eyes, once so full of life, were now heavy with an unspoken anguish. her hands, which had once cradled her child with tender care, now trembled with a mix of rage and despair.

in the aftermath of the tragedy, taejo had made a decision that seemed both practical and cold-hearted. he sought to fortify the kingdom’s borders through another marriage, a strategic move intended to bolster alliances and strengthen the realm. the political implications of his choice were clear, but to the grieving queen, they were an affront to her sorrow. as the king prepared to finalize his decision, the palace was awash with tension. jiyoung, her face streaked with tears and resolve, confronted him.

her voice was a strained whisper, laden with desperation. “how can you even consider another marriage?” she demanded. “do you not feel any sadness? is our loss so easily forgotten?” taejo responded with an unsettling calmness. “my decisions are guided by the needs of the kingdom,” he said. “this marriage is necessary for the security of our borders. it’s not a matter of personal grief.”

the queen’s eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity. her hand clenched around a small, ornate dagger, a symbol of her resolve. “you will choose between your marriage and your son,” she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and anguish. she seized namjoon, who stood beside her, and pressed the dagger against his young throat.

the king’s face darkened, a storm of conflicting emotions crossing his features. “this won’t stop my decision,” he warned, his voice edged with a steely resolve. “you cannot use our son as leverage.” the tension in the room reached a breaking point. rhe queen’s grip on the dagger tightened, her face a mask of defiant rage. with a sudden, violent movement, she raised her hand, intent on striking out in her desperation.

taejo acted swiftly, his hand grasping her wrist in a desperate bid to prevent the impending violence. but the queen was resolute, wrenching her arm free from his grasp. in the struggle, the dagger’s blade sliced across namjoon’s young face. the sharp edge cut through flesh, spraying blood in a sudden, horrifying arc. hansol rushed forward in a panic. his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood seeping from namjoon’s wound, the child’s face contorted in pain and shock. the sight was etched into his memory as he reached out, his own face pale and stricken.

years later, the mask namjoon wore was a constant reminder of that night, a physical manifestation of the emotional scars he carried. the memory of that moment—the struggle, the pain, and the betrayal—was a shadow that lingered in his past, shaping his present in ways both seen and unseen. the mask, more than a protective covering, was a symbol of the emotional wounds that had never truly healed.

as dawn crept over songak, its light filtered gently through the silk curtains of your chamber, casting a soft glow across the opulent furnishings. you emerged from the cocoon of your blankets, your mind still tangled in the disarray of your new reality. chaeyeon arrived promptly to escort you around the grounds, her demeanor a blend of professionalism and sympathy. the palace grounds were a sprawling expanse of beauty and grandeur, with meticulously manicured gardens, serene water features, and stately buildings that spoke of the power and wealth of the dynasty. the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves in the morning breeze created an atmosphere of tranquility.

chaeyeon led you with practiced ease, her steps light and graceful. she spoke with a calm, informative tone, filling you in on the details of your life as nabi. “this is the western garden,” she said, gesturing to a lush area adorned with vibrant flora. “you used to spend a great deal of time here, enjoying the serenity. and over there,” she pointed towards a grand pavilion, “is where you and lady ja often held tea parties.”

you nodded, feigning familiarity with the surroundings. “it’s all starting to come back to me,” you said, though internally you struggled to piece together the fragmented information. the “amnesia” you claimed was a convenient cover for your ignorance, allowing you to absorb details about your new identity without raising suspicion.

chaeyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze scrutinizing you with a hint of suspicion. “are you certain you’re not faking your condition?” she asked, her tone laced with concern. “perhaps you had a secret relationship with someone or incurred a debt that might explain your current state.”

the accusation took you aback, and you paused, considering her words. “did nabi have a secret life?” you mused aloud. “was she someone who acted one way in public and another behind closed doors?” chaeyeon’s eyes widened slightly, her suspicion momentarily replaced by concern. “nabi was always so quiet and reserved,” she said, shaking her head. “it’s hard to believe she would have done anything underhanded.”

your tendency to refer to yourself in the third person seemed to convince chaeyeon of your genuine amnesia. she softened her stance, though her gaze remained thoughtful. “if you truly don’t remember, then we’ll have to help you piece together the fragments of your past,” she said, her voice gentler now. you sighed inwardly, recognizing the futility of explaining that you were merely inhabiting someone else’s body. the truth was far too complex to convey, and the best course of action was to continue with the pretense of amnesia.

as you walked alongside her, your gaze fell upon the distant river that meandered through the palace grounds. across it, you could see prince hansol and lady ja enjoying a quiet moment together. hansol’s attention towards his wife was marked by an evident tenderness, his every gesture reflecting a deep affection. curiosity piqued, you asked chaeyeon, “what can you tell me about prince hansol?”

her face lit up with pride as she spoke of him. “prince chwe hansol is truly the finest man in all of goryeo,” she said, her voice brimming with admiration. “he is often regarded as the one who should have been the first prince. his wisdom and kindness are unmatched, and he is deeply loved by all who know him.” you absorbed her words with a mix of relief and contemplation. from your limited historical knowledge, you wondered if he was the prince who later became king gwangjong.

as you continued to observe the serene interaction between hansol and lady ja across the river, you found yourself lost in thought, the quiet affection between the couple stirring something within you. the tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by the sharp voice of a woman you hadn’t noticed approaching.

“how dare you stare so rudely?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the calm like a blade. you turned to face the intruder, immediately noting her keen, almost predatory eyes. “being lady ja’s cousin is no excuse for such impropriety.”

before you could respond, chaeyeon quickly bowed low and urgently nudged you to do the same. “princess seulgi,” she whispered in warning, her tone laced with anxiety. princess seulgi, you thought, sizing up the woman before you. her posture was rigid, her gaze unyielding, and her expression one of barely concealed disdain. there was an air of superiority about her, as if she expected the world to bend to her whims. despite chaeyeon’s subtle attempts to pacify the situation, hana’s eyes never left you, narrowing slightly in irritation.

with a voice sweetened by insincerity, she said, “it’s such a shame, nabi, that you seem to have forgotten your manners along with your memory. you could stand to relearn quite a few things, it seems.”

the condescension in her tone was unmistakable, and you felt your irritation bubble to the surface. internally, you grumbled at her haughty attitude, unwilling to be cowed by her status. so, with a bright, wide smile, you met her gaze and replied, “if you dislike me, princess, just say so.” for a moment, silence hung between you, thick with tension. hana’s eyes widened in shock, her sharp tongue momentarily stilled by your audacity. she had likely expected you to cower or apologize, not to confront her so directly.

you continued, your voice steady and firm, “it’s clear you’re the type to bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in with criticism. but that doesn’t work with me.” seulgi’s shock quickly morphed into anger, her face flushing with indignation. “you insolent little—” she began, her voice rising as she spat out, “bitch!”

you raised your voice right back, ready to escalate the argument further. but just as the tension reached its peak, a commanding presence interrupted. “enough.” the single word, spoken in a calm yet authoritative tone, immediately silenced the room. you and hana both turned to see hansol approaching, his expression unreadable but his mere presence enough to quell the brewing storm.

he stepped between you and the princess, his gaze settling on you as he urged you to walk with him, toward the library. “nabi,” he began, his voice softening slightly, “it seems you’ve forgotten the proper way to greet a member of the royal family.” you felt a rush of embarrassment as the reality of the situation dawned on you. bowing hurriedly, you tried to recover, offering a modern and awkward, “hello.”

the corner of hansol’s mouth twitched slightly in what could have been amusement, though his expression remained mostly neutral. “i suppose your amnesia means you don’t remember much at all,” he mused, his tone more curious than accusatory. “including whether you’ve peeped on the princes’ bath before or after you lost your memory.” caught off guard by his question, you struggled to form a coherent response, heat rising to your cheeks. “i don’t remember,” you admitted, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.

hansol didn’t press further, his gaze thoughtful as he considered you. “what is it that you want to do with yourself now, nabi?” he asked. there was a sincerity in his tone, as if he genuinely wanted to help you find your place. “i brought you here when you first accompanied lady ja, and i intend to look after you. but i need to know what you wish for your future.” his concern surprised you. you hadn’t expected him to take such an interest, especially given that you were technically a stranger in this body. yet, there was a part of you that wondered why he would go to such lengths, even if you were related to his wife.

determined to assert some control over your situation, you squared your shoulders and said, “i’ll take care of myself, your highness.” the words came out more confidently than you felt, but you were resolved to prove that you weren’t a burden. he seemed taken aback by your response, his brows knitting together slightly in confusion. your modernisms, the casual way you spoke, must have seemed strange to him. “you’ll take care of yourself?” he repeated, as if trying to understand your meaning.

realizing your mistake, you quickly added, “what i mean is, i’ll find a way to live here and be of use. i don’t want to be a burden.” his expression softened again, though a hint of concern lingered. “very well,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “but you must understand that you’re not alone here. we all have roles to play, and we’ll help you find yours.”

as he spoke, he moved around the room, his steps measured and deliberate. you followed him, your eyes tracing the lines of the bookshelves that lined the walls. the library was grand, filled with volumes that spoke of a rich history you barely understood.

“i have many talents,” you blurted out, trying to reassure both him and yourself. “i’ll find a way to make myself useful, i promise.” you nearly ran into him as he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. his closeness made you tense, the air between you charged with a subtle, unspoken tension. he studied you intently, his gaze searching for something in your eyes.

“you seem like someone else,” he observed quietly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your consciousness. you were flustered by his remark, unsure how to respond. but before you could speak, he continued, “it doesn’t matter who you were before, nabi. what matters is how you move forward now.” his words were a comfort, a reminder that while your situation was strange and frightening, you had a chance to shape your own path.

“i won’t ask further about your memory,” he added, his tone gentle. “but you must not worry lady ja any further. she cares deeply for you, and so do i.” you nodded quickly, agreeing to his terms. “i won’t,” you promised, feeling a renewed determination to adapt to this life. with that, he dismissed you, and you ran off, your mind buzzing with everything that had transpired. as you left the library, you couldn’t shake the feeling that hansol saw through you, that he knew there was something fundamentally different about you.

as namjoon roamed the dimly lit library, his fingers traced the spines of countless books that lined the shelves. the scent of old paper and ink hung heavy in the air, a quiet reminder of the knowledge stored within these walls. the books there were far from ordinary, though—jisoo’s collection was infamous for its peculiar and often forbidden contents. namjoon’s sharp eyes quickly zeroed in on a particular shelf, one that seemed to be tucked away more carefully than the others. his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled out a slender, well-worn volume, its cover unassuming save for the faint, faded title that promised scandalous secrets within.

he flipped through the pages, his amusement growing with each explicit passage. lost in the irony, he didn’t notice jisoo’s approach until the man was practically breathing down his neck. “enjoying the collection?” his voice was light, almost teasing. his presence was like a shadow, creeping up without warning, and it made namjoon’s grip tighten on the book.

namjoon didn’t bother to hide the volume he was holding. he met jisoo’s gaze with a lazy smirk. “you’ve got an interesting taste. planning on lending me these?” jisoo’s eyes glittered with amusement, though the smile on his lips was sharp. “if it suits your fancy, i’d be more than happy to let you borrow them. but something tells me you’re not here just for a light read.”

namjoon’s expression hardened, and he snapped the book shut with a decisive clap. “why was i called here?”

jisoo didn’t seem perturbed by the shift in his tone. he folded his arms and leaned back against the nearest shelf, his posture relaxed yet calculating. “the court lady who prepared crown prince taehyung’s breakfast was found hanged this morning. a curious case, given that it’s rather difficult to hang oneself in such a manner.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “a suicide, then?”

jisoo shook his head, his gaze darkening. “not quite. a death staged as a suicide, which suggests the involvement of someone who knows their way around the palace. someone with the means to silence her before she could speak.” namjoon’s smirk faded as he absorbed the implications. “you’re suggesting it’s someone within the royal family. perhaps even a prince.”

jisoo nodded, his expression grave. “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting. and you’re the one I want to find the culprit.” namjoon let out a low, humorless laugh. “what am i, a dog now? people keep calling me a wolf, and you must think i’ve actually become one.”

jisoo’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “you’ve spent years in the shadow of this court, namjoon, watching and learning. no one knows the intrigues here better than you.” he turned away, pacing slowly between the shelves, his thoughts churning. “i’m a hostage, jisoo, not a hound to be sent sniffing out conspiracies.”

jisoo’s voice followed him, cool and measured. “maybe you were. but that display earlier—killing your horse in front of everyone—that wasn’t the act of a hostage. it was the act of a man who no longer wants to live as one.” namjoon halted, his back to jisoo, his fists clenching at his sides. the truth of those words stung, even as they ignited a flicker of something deep within him—a desire for something more, something beyond the chains that had bound him for so long.

he continued, his tone coaxing, “if you fulfill this task, it could be your chance to claim that freedom you’re so desperate for.” namjoon remained silent, weighing the offer. the idea of being free, of no longer living under the constant threat of being used as a pawn, was tempting. but the risk was high, and the stakes higher still. it was then that jisoo dropped the final piece of information, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. “it was crown prince taehyung who requested this investigation.”

namjoon’s breath caught in his throat, and he turned slowly to face jisoo. “taehyung?” he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. before he could respond, the door to the library creaked open, and tae stepped inside. his presence was commanding, even in the quiet, scholarly atmosphere of the room. he was dressed in the formal robes befitting his station, though there was an air of exhaustion about him, as if the weight of the crown was already pressing down heavily on his shoulders.

“crown prince taehyung.” namjoon bowed his head slightly, though his eyes remained on the prince, searching for answers. taehyung’s expression was calm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “namjoon,” he greeted, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air. “i’m glad you’re here.”

jisoo stepped forward, his tone shifting to one of deference. “your highness, i’ve informed him of the situation.” tae nodded, his gaze never leaving namjoon. “there have been whispers of an assassination attempt during the upcoming rites. if those whispers are true, i need someone I can trust to root out the traitor before it’s too late.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed as he considered the prince’s words. this was more than just palace intrigue—it was a matter of life and death. “and if i succeed?” he asked, his voice low, careful. tae met his gaze squarely, the gravity of the situation reflected in his eyes. “if you find the one responsible, i’ll give you anything you ask for.” namjoon’s heart pounded in his chest as the possibilities raced through his mind. this was his chance—his chance to finally step out from the shadows and take control of his own destiny. but he wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

“anything?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of challenge. taehyung didn’t flinch. “anything.”

namjoon let the silence stretch between them for a moment before he spoke, his voice steady and clear. “i want to live here, permanently.”

taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, the request taking him by surprise. he had expected namjoon to ask for land, titles, perhaps even power. but the capital, along with a wife, that was a different kind of demand altogether. “done,” he said after a moment, his voice firm with resolve. “if you find the culprit, i’ll see to it that you’re granted a permanent residence in songak.”

the ladies of hansol’s household bustled around the courtyard, their nimble fingers busy at work crafting delicate lanterns shaped like flowers. the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut paper and the faint tang of glue, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the women. each one of them worked with a practiced ease, folding and cutting the colored paper with precision to create intricate designs. you, however, were utterly hopeless at it. no matter how hard you tried, your fingers fumbled with the delicate materials, and your lanterns came out misshapen and clumsy.

it wasn’t long before princess seulgi took notice. her sharp eyes caught every flaw, every misstep, and she wasn’t one to let them slide. “it seems your amnesia has taken more from you than just your memory,” she remarked, her tone laced with disdain as she inspected your work. she held up one of your malformed creations with a look of barely concealed disgust. “this is hardly suitable for the rites.”

you bit back a retort, feeling your frustration rise. it was bad enough that you were struggling with those tasks, but having seulgi point out your failures so openly stung even more. still, you were determined to prove yourself, to show that you weren’t as useless as she made you feel. “i can still help,” you insisted, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice.

she raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “very well,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “since you’re so eager to contribute, why don’t you make the glue for us?”

you didn’t miss the challenge in her tone, nor the way the other ladies exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with pity. making glue was a dirty job, often relegated to the lowest servants, but you swallowed your pride and nodded. “i’ll do it,” you replied, trying to sound confident.

the task was every bit as grueling as she had intended. you were sent outside, away from the cool shade of the courtyard, to work under the sun. the thick, sticky mixture of rice flour and water required constant stirring to keep it from burning, and the heat made the air feel heavy and oppressive. your arms ached from the effort, and sweat dripped down your forehead, but you pushed through, determined not to give seulgi the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

at one point, you paused to stretch, your body protesting the repetitive motion. you leaned back, stretching your arms overhead and bending at the waist to relieve the tension in your muscles. the movement was hardly graceful, but you were too focused on easing your discomfort to care. it wasn’t until you straightened up that you noticed hansol standing a short distance away, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. you froze, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. the thought of hansol watching you as you contorted yourself in such an ungainly manner made you want to shrink into the ground. quickly, you turned back to the pot of glue, resuming your stirring with renewed vigor. “the princess put me to this task,” you explained, trying to sound nonchalant despite your awkwardness.

hansol’s lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile. “i see you’re demonstrating your many talents,” he said, his tone dry as he echoed your earlier words. you couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. “yes, well, i suppose i should have specified that glue-making wasn’t one of them,” you replied, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. he chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. for a moment, the tension between you eased, and you found yourself feeling grateful for his presence. but before you could say more, he was called away by one of the other princes, leaving you to your task once more.

later in the day, the princes gathered to prepare for the upcoming rites, practicing a ceremonial sword dance that required both grace and precision. tenth prince baekhyun was by far the worst at the dance. his movements were stiff, his timing off, and after several failed attempts to keep up with the others, he finally threw down his sword in frustration. “this is pointless,” he muttered, his tone sulky as he stalked off to the side, clearly in no mood to continue.

the other princes paused, taking a break from their practice. ninth prince yeosang, took the opportunity to speak up. “is it true that the king intends to abdicate his throne to crown prince tae after the ceremony?” the question hung in the air, bringing everyone up short. even the most practiced of the princes couldn’t hide their surprise at the boldness of his inquiry. all eyes turned to jisoo, who had been observing the practice from a distance.

jisoo’s expression was unreadable as he responded. “i know nothing of the sort,” he said carefully, his tone giving nothing away. but his non-answer only fueled the tension. hansol frowned at yeosang, his voice low and admonishing. “you were foolish to say that, kwan. the king must not hear such rumors.” third prince chaehee crossed his arms and spoke up. “we’re all curious, hansol. and it’s not yeosang’s fault for asking. besides, jisoo didn’t exactly deny it outright.” the tension among the princes was intense, each of them silently weighing the implications of the question.

exhausted from the day’s work, you decided to rest outside, hoping to clear your mind. as you leaned back against a tree, you noticed a familiar figure walking by, his robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. it was jisoo, the court astrologer—and, you realized with a start, the hobo from the pier. the recognition hit you like a lightning bolt, and without thinking, you leapt to your feet and took off after him.

“wait!” you called, your voice breathless as you darted through the courtyard. jisoo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in recognition, and then he began to move faster, slipping through the narrow alleys of the city with practiced ease. you chased after him, your heart pounding in your chest, but he was always just out of reach, his figure disappearing around corners and ducking into shadows. finally, you lost sight of him altogether, standing in the middle of a busy street with no idea where he had gone. the disappointment was bitter, and you were about to turn back when the sound of hooves thundered through the air.

namjoon came riding furiously down the street, his horse galloping at a breakneck pace. villagers dove for cover as he barreled through, his expression set in a fierce scowl. you didn’t see him until the last moment, too distracted by your pursuit of jisoo to notice the danger. by the time you did, it was too late—you froze in the middle of the street, your eyes wide with shock as the horse bore down on you.

a peddler’s pack brushed against you, knocking you backward. you stumbled, arms flailing as you teetered on the edge of the ravine that bordered the street. the ground seemed to drop away beneath you, and you felt the sickening lurch of gravity pulling you down. panic surged through you, your mind racing with the realization that you were about to fall. but just as you began to tip over the edge, a strong hand shot out and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you up with a force that left you breathless. you were yanked into the saddle, your body pressed against namjoon’s as he steadied his horse with a firm grip. for a moment, you could only cling to him, your heart pounding in your chest as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. the world spun around you, the near-fall leaving you shaken and disoriented.

you stared up at namjoon, wide-eyed and breathless, your fingers clinging desperately to his robe as the horse thundered through the city streets. the wind whipped through your hair, your heart still pounding from the near fall into the ravine. for a moment, all you could focus on was the intensity of namjoon’s face—the sharp line of his jaw, the cool indifference in his left eye, the slight frown that seemed permanently etched into his brow. it was as if he held the world at arm’s length, letting nothing and no one touch him. the ride was brief but harrowing. you felt the rhythm of the horse’s hooves beneath you, the power of its muscles as it responded to namjoon’s every command. you wondered, not for the first time, what it would take to unearth a flicker of emotion from him, something other than the stoic mask he wore so effortlessly.

finally, namjoon slowed the horse, bringing it to a halt just outside the palace gates. the sudden stop jolted you from your thoughts, and you blinked up at him, still gripping his robe as if it were a lifeline. his gaze flicked down to you, the barest hint of curiosity in his eyes, before he looked away. without warning, his arm released you, and you found yourself unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. you landed in an undignified heap, the breath knocked out of you as you hit the dirt. for a moment, you could only lie there, staring up at the sky in stunned disbelief.

“what the hell was that for?” you demanded, scrambling to your feet and glaring up at him. you dusted yourself off, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “you could’ve at least helped me down like a normal person.” namjoon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he regarded you. for a moment, you thought he might apologize—or at the very least, offer an explanation. instead, his lips quirked into a faint, mocking smile.

“perhaps i thought you’d enjoy the challenge,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. you narrowed your eyes, not about to let him off the hook so easily. “you’re impossible, you know that? just because you ride in here like a—”

but before you could finish, namjoon clicked his tongue, and the horse reared up on its hind legs. you stumbled backward, losing your balance as the horse’s hooves pawed the air above you. panic surged through you, and you fell back onto the ground once more, landing with a hard thud. by the time you regained your composure, namjoon had already ridden off, the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing through the streets. you stared after him, fuming, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. he was insufferable, arrogant, and completely out of control.

“lady nabi, are you all right?” you turned to see chaeyeon hurrying toward you, her face etched with concern. she reached out to help you up, her hands warm and steady. “what happened? i saw you with prince namjoon just now.” you sighed, brushing off your clothes once more as you accepted her help. “it’s nothing. just a misunderstanding,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant despite your lingering irritation.

chaeyeon gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. instead, she glanced over her shoulder, as if worried someone might overhear. “princess seulgi is looking for you,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with urgency. “you should come quickly.”

with a nod, you followed her through the palace grounds, your mind still reeling from the encounter with namjoon. as you walked, she filled you in on the latest developments—apparently, seulgi was currently meeting with her brothers, or at least the six of them who got along. namjoon was noticeably absent, though it was clear from the tension in the air that his presence, or lack thereof, weighed heavily on the gathering.

by the time you reached the small courtyard where the meeting was taking place, you could already hear the low murmur of voices. the princes were discussing something in hushed tones, their expressions serious. as you and chaeyeon approached, you caught snippets of their conversation, the words charged with a sense of foreboding.

“…difficult to get along with him,” one of the princes was saying, his voice tinged with frustration. “he’s moody and unpredictable. it’s like walking on eggshells around him.” you recognized the speaker as tenth prince baekhyun, his youthful face twisted into a pout. his words were met with nods of agreement from the others, though no one seemed willing to voice their thoughts too openly.

just as he opened his mouth to continue, the door to the courtyard slid open with a soft thud. the princes fell silent, their eyes snapping to the entrance as namjoon stepped inside. the tension in the room was heavy, the air thick with unspoken worries. seulgi was the only one who looked pleased to see him, her face lighting up with a smile as she stood to greet him. “namjoon,” she said warmly, moving toward him with a graceful sweep of her robes. “i’m so glad you could join us.”

namjoon offered a polite nod. “it’s good to see you,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual warmth. but before he could say more, chaehee, the third prince, cut in with a smirk. “don’t try too hard with namjoon, brother. he understands the language of beasts better than people.”

the barb hung in the air, and the other princes stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances. even seulgi’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes darting between namjoon and chaehee, as if bracing for the fallout. but namjoon didn’t react as expected. instead, he simply met chaehee’s gaze with a calm, measured look. “ah,” he said softly, his voice as cool as ice, “that’s why i understand my brother’s words so well.”

the room went silent, the tension simmering beneath the surface. even the normally boisterous sang seemed cowed, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of namjoon’s quiet menace. the princes exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. at that moment, the maids entered the courtyard, carrying trays laden with snacks and refreshments. it was also your cue to join the gathering, though you hesitated, doing your best to hang back out of sight. the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially with namjoon’s unnerving presence so close by.

but your attempt to skulk behind a pillar didn’t go unnoticed. baekhyun caught sight of you and immediately zeroed in, his eyes narrowing as he tried to place why you seemed so familiar. “you there!” he called out, his voice ringing through the courtyard as he stepped closer. “i know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

you froze, your heart sinking as his gaze locked onto yours. he was right, of course—you had crossed paths before, but not in any way you wanted to be reminded of. you went cross-eyed in panic, silently praying that he wouldn’t figure it out. but he was nothing if not persistent. his brow furrowed as he racked his brain, and then his eyes lit up with recognition. “wait a minute, weren’t you the peeping tom at the baths?” the words hit you like a ton of bricks, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out a denial. “no! absolutely not!”

but in your haste to deny the accusation, you stumbled backward, accidentally knocking into a maid carrying a tray. the tray wobbled precariously, and with a horrified gasp, you watched as the plateware went crashing to the ground, shattering into pieces with a deafening clatter. for a moment, the entire courtyard fell into a stunned silence. all eyes were on you—the princes, the maids, even chaeyeon—each one of them staring in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. seulgi’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“what have you done?” her voice was low and cold, her tone cutting through the air like a knife. “are you truly so incompetent that you can’t even keep out of trouble for a single day?” faced with her anger and a roomful of staring princes, you felt a wave of mortification crash over you. the humiliation was too much to bear, and without thinking, you turned and bolted from the courtyard, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls as you fled. as you ran, you caught a glimpse of namjoon out of the corner of your eye. he was standing off to the side, his expression unreadable as he watched you go. but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or maybe something else entirely.

you ran through the palace corridors, your heart pounding in your chest. slowing your pace, you took a moment to lean against a column, forcing yourself to take deep, steadying breaths. “hang in there,” you whispered to yourself, willing your racing heart to calm. the palace, with its sprawling halls and myriad of secrets, was a dangerous place for someone like you—a place where one wrong move could mean disaster. but you couldn’t let yourself be consumed by fear or anger. you had to stay sharp.

as your breathing evened out, you heard footsteps echoing through the hallway. panic gripped you again as you realized who it was—baekhyun, the tenth prince. he was still convinced he recognized you correctly and was now on the prowl, searching for you. you quickly ducked behind a pillar, watching him from your hiding place. he moved with eagerness, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny as he walked. you bit your lip, hoping he would pass by without noticing you. then, he stopped in front of a door, peering through a small tear in the fabric that covered it.

you tensed, realizing where he was looking. on the other side of that door was chaeyeon, who had no idea she was being watched. baekhyun’s eyes widened with curiosity as he leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by what he was seeing. you felt a surge of anger. it was one thing to be an immature prince, but this—this was crossing a line.

before you could react, chaeyeon suddenly looked up and saw him. her eyes went wide with horror, and she let out a sharp scream that echoed through the hallway. the sound startled baekhyun, and he stumbled back from the door, his face pale with shock. without thinking, he turned and ran, his feet slipping on the polished floor as he tried to make a hasty escape. but he didn’t get far.

you stepped out from your hiding place, planting yourself firmly in his path. your eyes narrowed with determination, you crossed your arms over your chest, blocking his way. sang skidded to a stop, his expression a mixture of guilt and indignation. “what are you doing?” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to regain his composure. “move aside!”

you didn’t budge. “where do you think you’re going, prince baekhyun?” you asked, your voice stern, it almost sounded like a grandmother scolding an errant schoolboy. “you think you can just run off after what you did?”

his eyes darted around, as if looking for an escape route. “i didn’t do anything!” he protested, though his voice lacked conviction. “that slave—she’s lying! she can’t prove anything!” his mouth opened and closed as he fumbled for a response, but you cut him off, taking a step closer to him. “don’t lie, i saw it clearly,” you said, your voice firm. “what you did was wrong, and you need to apologize.”

the prince’s face twisted with a mix of outrage and disbelief. “apologize? to a slave?” he scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “i’m a prince! i don’t bow to the likes of her—or you, for that matter!” but you didn’t back down. “you may be a prince, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like that,” you shot back. “you owe her an apology, and i won’t let you leave until you give it.”

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you could see the childish petulance rising in him. he turned on his heel, determined to storm off, but you weren’t about to let him go that easily. you reached out and grabbed the edge of his cloak, pulling him back. “let go of me!” he shouted, trying to shake you off. he shoved you hard, and you stumbled back, crashing to the ground. the impact sent a fresh wave of anger surging through you, and as you sat there, stunned, you decided you’d had enough.

without a second thought, you lunged forward, grabbing him by the ankle and yanking him off balance. he yelped in surprise as he went down, flailing his arms in a futile attempt to stay upright. the two of you hit the ground with a thud, and before he could recover, you pounced on him, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “what are you—?” he began, but his words were cut off as you pulled his head back, your eyes blazing with fury.

“you think you can just shove me around and get away with it?” you growled, your voice low and dangerous. “i don’t care if you’re a prince—i’ll still kick your ass.” he tried to push you off, his hands scrabbling at your arms, but you held on tight, refusing to let go. his struggles only fueled your anger, and before you knew it, the two of you were engaged in a full-on tussle, rolling across the ground in a tangle of limbs.

baekhyun managed to get one arm around your neck, pulling you into a headlock, but you were too fired up to care. you twisted and turned, using every ounce of strength you had to break free. when his grip loosened for just a moment, you sank your teeth into his arm, biting down hard. “ow! you bit me!” he howled, letting go of you in shock. but before he could recover, you kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling onto his back. you didn’t give him a chance to get up. you climbed on top of him, your fists clenched, and started smacking him repeatedly.

“spoiled brat,” you hissed, each word punctuated by a slap. “you think you can do whatever you want, but i won’t let you! you’re a pervert, a peeping tom—” sang flinched with each blow, his hands raised in a feeble attempt to protect his face. “stop! you’re going to regret this!” he shouted, but his words only fueled your rage.

“i’ll regret it?” you spat, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “you’re the one who should be regretting everything. you think i’m going to let you get away with this? not a chance!” his eyes blazed with fury, but there was also a flicker of fear in them. “you won’t escape unscathed, you know that?” he warned, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

but you were too caught up in your fury to care. you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up so that your faces were inches apart. “we’ll see about that,” you hissed, before delivering a final, mighty head-butt. the impact stunned both of you, the force of it reverberating through your skull. baekhyun’s head snapped back, and he let out a pained groan, his eyes glazing over as he struggled to stay conscious. you, too, felt the dizziness wash over you, but you refused to let it show.

with him dazed beneath you, you rolled up your sleeve, ready to deliver a doozy of a slap that would leave a mark. but just as you were about to bring your hand down, a strong grip caught your wrist, stopping you mid-swing. you looked up, startled, and found yourself staring into the amused eyes of namjoon. his hand was wrapped around your wrist, holding it firmly but not painfully. he seemed almost entertained by the sight of you and sang sprawled out on the ground like children caught in a schoolyard brawl.

“what do you think you’re doing?” namjoon asked, his voice calm and composed, but with an undercurrent of amusement that made your blood boil even more. you gaped at him in surprise, struggling to find the words. “i—he—” you stammered, trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp, but namjoon’s hold was unyielding.

before you could say more, baekhyun, still reeling from the head-butt, tried to charge at you, his face twisted in anger. “let me go! she—she attacked me!” he yelled, his voice shaking with indignation. but hansol appeared just in time, stepping between the two of them with a stern expression. “that’s enough, baekhyun,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “there are eyes watching. we can’t afford to make a scene here.”

baekhyun glared at him, his chest heaving with fury, but he knew better than to argue with his elder brother. with a final huff of frustration, he flounced off, storming down the hallway in a fit. namjoon finally released your wrist, and you scrambled to your feet, your heart still pounding from the confrontation. you couldn’t believe what had just happened—the fight, the princes, and now namjoon, standing there with that infuriatingly calm expression.

you narrowed your eyes at him, the anger from before flaring up once more. “and what about you?” you demanded. the anger that had fueled your fight with sang still simmered beneath your skin, and now it was directed entirely at namjoon. “you’re not getting away without an apology.”

his brow arched, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “an apology?” he repeated, as if the concept was entirely foreign to him. “who are you to demand such a thing from me?” you squared your shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “someone who deserves respect, that’s who,” you shot back. “or do you only apologize to people who share your bloodline? because if that’s the case, then maybe you should start practicing, seeing as you’re on such thin ice with your brothers.”

his eyes darkened at that, the playful glint disappearing as something more dangerous took its place. he stepped closer, towering over you, his presence suddenly more imposing. “so, if you’re a slave, i ignore you,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. “but if you were a princess, i’d bow at your feet? is that what you’re saying?”

you held your ground, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “i’m saying respect should be given regardless of status. but clearly, that’s a concept beyond your understanding.” for a moment, there was silence between you, the tension thick in the air. then, without warning, namjoon leaned in, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “when i do apologize,” he said slowly, each word enunciated with chilling precision, “it means you’ll die.” before you could respond, namjoon turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing. his words echoed in your ears, the warning clear, but so too was the challenge.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the palace grounds as you made your way to the bathing pools. the path was quiet, the only sounds your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. the stillness of the night mirrored the turmoil within you. the jisoo man you’d seen earlier—was he real, or had your desperate mind conjured him from nothing? it felt like a sign, divine or otherwise, a spark of hope that there was a way to return home. you desperately needed to leave goryeo, especially with the looming punishment for hitting a prince hanging over your head. every step toward the bathing pools solidified your resolve. if there was even the slightest chance that jisoo held the key to your escape, you had to find him.

the pools were a serene sight, surrounded by tall trees that shielded them from the rest of the palace. you hesitated for a moment, peering into the dark waters before slipping into the pool. the water was cool, a refreshing contrast to the heat that had built up in your body from your frantic thoughts. you submerged yourself, holding your breath as long as you could, as if the water could wash away the fear and anxiety knotting in your chest. when you finally emerged, gasping for air, your eyes locked onto a figure standing at the edge of the pool.

namjoon. his mask was off, revealing the multitude of scars crisscrossing his back and torso, alongside the gash on his eye. the moonlight accentuated the lines of his disfigurement, a stark reminder of the pain he must have endured. his gaze was fixed on the still water, lost in thought, until your sudden appearance shattered the silence.

his head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the two of you were frozen, caught in each other’s gaze. then, in a swift motion, namjoon’s hand flew to his face, covering the scarred eye with a mix of shame and fear. “did you see?” he asked, his voice hesitant, almost childlike in its vulnerability. you could only stare, your mind blank with shock. Tthe sight of his scars, the rawness of his question, rendered you speechless. but his expression darkened at your silence. he stepped closer, and before you could react, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the throat.

“i asked if you saw!” he bellowed, his grip tightening. the suddenness of the attack, coupled with the sheer strength behind it, made your heart race in terror. “please, please,” you gasped, your hands clawing at his arm in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “i won’t say anything! i swear.”

namjoon’s eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit. the intensity of his gaze was suffocating, but you forced yourself to meet it, praying he would believe you. “forget me,” he ordered, his voice low and menacing. “forget what you saw here tonight.” you nodded jerkily, too afraid to do anything else. after what felt like an eternity, he released you, his hand trembling slightly as he backed away. he grabbed his mask and clothes, casting one last look at you before turning on his heel and disappearing into the night.

as he left, a small object fell from his grasp, unnoticed by him in his haste. you waited until you were sure he was gone before approaching the spot where it had landed. it was a hairpin, intricately designed, delicate in its craftsmanship. you picked it up, holding it gingerly in your hand. it was a small thing, but something about it felt significant, as if it held a piece of his story. clutching the hairpin to your chest, you slowly made your way back to the palace. the long walk back gave you time to think, to process everything that had happened. your heart still raced from the encounter, but beneath the fear, there was a growing realization that namjoon wasn’t just the cold, unfeeling prince you had initially taken him for.

by the time you reached the entrance of the household, the entire family was waiting for you outside. their faces were a mix of worry and anger, and your stomach dropped at the sight. “where have you been?” lady ja demanded, stepping forward with an air of authority. her tone was sharp, but the underlying concern was unmistakable. “you left without a word! the whole household has been worried sick.”

the word “family” struck a chord within you, and you blinked in surprise. It was such a simple thing, but hearing it made something inside you shift. you looked around at the faces surrounding you, at the worried expressions of the servants, the stern gaze of lady ja, and something clicked into place.

“I’ve… come home,” you whispered to yourself, the words heavy with realization. and for the first time since you’d arrived in this strange world, it didn’t feel so foreign. you didn’t feel so lost. there was still much you didn’t understand, still so much to figure out, but in that moment, you felt a small, tentative sense of belonging.

queen jinyoung soaked in the warm bath, her body submerged beneath the surface, save for her head resting against the smooth edge of the porcelain tub. steam rose in delicate wisps, curling around her face and obscuring the sharpness of her features. the water was scented with jasmine and lavender, calming scents that usually soothed her nerves. but tonight, they failed to quiet the storm brewing in her mind.

she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to the recent conversation she had with her eldest son, chaehee. it had been late at night, the palace shrouded in darkness, when he had come to her chambers. chaehee was always careful, always discreet, and he knew better than to be seen sneaking into his mother’s quarters at such an hour. the candles flickered as he entered, casting his face in a dance of light and shadow, highlighting the tension etched into his brow.

“we can’t wait any longer,” chaehee had said, his voice low and urgent. “the rumors are spreading faster than we anticipated. the court is abuzz with talk that the king may abdicate the throne to tae.”

jinyoung had felt her chest tighten at his words. she had known this day would come, had prepared for it, but the reality of it was still a bitter pill to swallow. taehyung, the crown prince, was favored by the king in ways that none of her sons were. he was seen as the rightful heir, the embodiment of everything the king wished to pass on to the next generation. but jinyoung knew better. taehyung was a threat—a threat to her sons, to their future, to everything she had fought so hard to secure.

“we need to speed things up,” she had murmured, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair with a white-knuckled intensity. “the upcoming ceremony is our best chance. if we’re going to eliminate tae, it has to be then.” chaehee had nodded, his eyes gleaming with cold determination. “leave it to me, mother. i’ll ensure everything goes according to plan.”

“see that you do,” jinyoung had replied, her voice steely. “we cannot afford any mistakes.”

now, as she lay in the bath, those words echoed in her mind. the plan was set into motion, and there was no turning back. the fate of her sons rested on the success of this plot. her heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and resolve. if tae were to ascend the throne, her family’s future would be in jeopardy. but if they succeeded—if they succeeded, her sons would finally have the power and recognition they deserved.

she closed her eyes, letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles, but not her troubled thoughts. the image of chaehee’s face, so full of confidence and ruthlessness, stayed with her. she had raised him well, molded him into the man he needed to be in this cutthroat world. but even as she took pride in his ambition, there was a part of her that worried. the stakes were higher than ever, and if they failed—no, she couldn’t think of that. failure was not an option.

the following day, the princes gathered in the training grounds for one final run-through of their sword dance. the air was thick with anticipation, the weight of the upcoming ceremony hanging over them like a shroud. taehyung stood at the front, watching the princes with a critical eye as they practiced the intricate choreography. the dance was a vital part of the ritual, a symbol of the unity and strength of the royal family as they drove out the demons from the palace.

the princes moved in perfect synchronization, their swords slicing through the air with practiced precision. tae couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he observed them. despite the tension that often simmered beneath the surface, they were still his blood, and they had trained long and hard for this moment. as they completed the final sequence, tae’s lips curved into a rare smile of approval. “well done,” he praised, his voice carrying over the training grounds. “we’re ready.”

tenth prince baekhyun, panting slightly from exertion, turned to thirteenth prince kyeom with a mischievous grin. “do you think she’ll be here today?” he asked, a hint of eagerness in his tone. daniel smirked, catching the excited glint in baekhyun’s eyes. “who? the one who gave you that lovely black eye?”

the other princes chuckled, and baekhyun’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “it wasn’t like that!” he protested, though his smile betrayed him. “sure it wasn’t,” chaehee drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “you just happened to trip into her fist, is that it?”

the teasing continued, lightening the mood among the brothers. even namjoon allowed himself a small smile at baekhyun’s expense. but as soon as he caught hansol’s gaze on him, that smile faded, replaced by the stoic mask he usually wore. hansol’s eyes were thoughtful, as though he was trying to puzzle out something about namjoon, but he said nothing.

meanwhile, chaehee’s attention was drawn to a line of black-clad men entering the grounds, their faces obscured by demon masks. they were part of the ritual, their role to represent the evil spirits that the royal family would symbolically banish. but to hyun, they were more than just performers. he had chosen them carefully, ensuring that they were loyal to his cause. his eyes flickered with a brief, calculating light as he watched them take their positions.

but chaehee wasn’t the only one with a plan. unbeknownst to him, tae had been working on his own counterplay. the crown prince had always been astute, quick to sense when something was amiss, and he wasn’t blind to the undercurrents of tension surrounding the ceremony. that’s why, in a quiet moment before the ritual began, he sought out namjoon. the exchange of masks was swift, and soon namjoon was clad in the elaborate costume of the crown prince, his face hidden behind a mask that bore the markings of leadership. taehyung donned a simpler outfit, blending in with the other princes as they prepared for the ceremony.

the palace courtyard was packed with onlookers, all eager to witness the grand ritual. the air was thick with the scent of incense, and the rhythmic beat of drums set the tone for the performance. namjoon took the lead position, his presence commanding as he stood at the forefront of the princes. to everyone watching, he was the crown prince, the one who would lead them in driving out the demons.

the ritual began, a carefully choreographed mix of martial arts and dance. namjoon moved with fluid grace, his sword cutting through the air in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the drums. the other princes followed his lead, their movements synchronized as they played their part in the elaborate display. as the dance progressed, the demon-masked men entered the scene, their presence dark and ominous. they advanced toward the princes, their swords drawn, and the real battle began. namjoon took them on with an impressive display of skill, his movements precise and controlled. he danced between them, his sword clashing against theirs in a series of carefully timed strikes.

chaehee, also masked, joined namjoon in the fight, their swords working in tandem as they recited an incantation to drive out the demons. the performance was flawless, a testament to the hours of practice they had put in. but then, something unexpected happened. more masked men appeared, descending from above like shadows. their arrival was sudden and unplanned, and immediately, the king and jisoo knew that something was wrong. the newcomers weren’t part of the ritual—they were assassins.

the atmosphere shifted in an instant, the crowd’s murmurs turning into gasps of alarm as the assassins drew their swords and charged at namjoon. jisoo’s voice rang out, calling for the soldiers to protect the king, and the royal guards surged forward, surrounding the king’s platform. namjoon, still masked and mistaken for the crown prince, found himself at the center of the attack. he fought back with fierce determination, his sword moving in a blur as he defended himself against the onslaught. but the odds were overwhelming, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t fend them off alone.

hansol was the first to realize that something was amiss. without hesitation, he charged into the fray, his sword flashing as he cut down the attackers. the other princes followed suit, their faces set in grim resolve as they joined the battle. together, they evened the numbers, driving back the assassins with a renewed vigor. chaehee caught sight of one of the demons—the very man he had conspired with. their eyes met through the slits in their masks, and in that brief exchange, a silent understanding passed between them. hyun knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment to strike and make it look like an accident.

with calculated precision, he maneuvered himself closer to namjoon. the sounds of clashing swords and the shouts of the combatants filled the air, masking the tension that thrummed between the two brothers. namjoon was fully engrossed in fending off another attacker when a third made its move. he twisted his sword in a way that seemed unintentional, a misstep in the dance of battle, and his blade sliced across namjoon’s arm.

he gasped as pain seared through him, his sword slipping from his grasp as he staggered backward. the world seemed to slow as he looked down at the wound, blood soaking into the fine fabric of his costume. for a moment, he was disoriented, his mind reeling from the unexpected betrayal. and then, as if on cue, one of the assassins saw his opportunity. the masked figure lunged at him, sword raised for the kill. namjoon, weakened and caught off guard, could do nothing but brace himself for the inevitable.

but at the last possible second, another figure intervened. a masked prince—swift, precise, and unyielding—threw himself between namjoon and the assassin, deflecting the blow with a resounding clash of steel. namjoon barely had time to register what had happened before he was pushed aside, the masked prince taking his place in the fight. the assassin hesitated, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift, and in that brief hesitation, the masked prince drove his sword through the attacker’s chest. the demon crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

the remaining assassins, sensing that their plan was unraveling, began to retreat. hyun, still masked, barked orders at the soldiers, commanding them to chase down the fleeing attackers. the courtyard was a chaotic whirlwind of movement as the soldiers pursued the assassins, determined to capture them before they could escape. the king, who had been watching the scene unfold with mounting dread, hurried down from his platform the moment the danger had passed. his gaze was frantic as he looked for taehyung, his fear palpable. but when he reached the center of the courtyard, he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat.

the mask had been removed, and instead of tae, he found namjoon standing there, clutching his wounded arm. the realization struck the king like a blow, and for a moment, he was speechless, the words caught in his throat. “where is taehyung?” the king demanded, his voice tight with fear and urgency.

namjoon, already in pain and now reeling from the king’s clear distress, felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injury. he swallowed hard, the hurt evident in his eyes, as he struggled to find the words to respond. the king’s priority had always been tae, and now, in this moment of crisis, it was clearer than ever.

before namjoon could respond, tae stepped forward, still clad in his simpler attire, but with a regal bearing that could not be mistaken. “i’m here,” he said calmly, though there was a sharpness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. the king’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he immediately moved to embrace tae, his concern for mamjoon seemingly forgotten in the wake of his son’s safety. tae, however, held himself stiffly, his eyes flicking toward namjoon with an unreadable expression.

queen jinyoung, watching from a distance, felt her heart sink as she realized her carefully laid plans had been thwarted. the ceremony had been the perfect opportunity to eliminate taehyung, but now, it was clear that her plot had failed. worse, her eldest son had been implicated in the attempt on namjoon’s life. she knew there would be consequences, and the realization filled her with dread.

namjoon, his face pale from the loss of blood, suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the tension in the courtyard. “i’ll catch them,” he declared, his tone firm despite his injury. without waiting for permission or acknowledging the pain in his arm, he turned and began to walk away, his steps purposeful and determined.

“namjoon, wait—” taehyung called out, moving to follow, but the king grabbed his arm, holding him back. “no, taehyung,” the king said, his voice filled with urgency. “you can’t go after him. it’s too dangerous.” his eyes flashed with frustration, but he stopped in his tracks, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. he watched helplessly as namjoon continued on, his figure growing smaller as he disappeared into the palace corridors.

the city streets blurred past namjoon as he sprinted through the narrow alleys, his focus entirely on the figures moving with alarming speed across the rooftops. the assassins, their dark silhouettes stark against the night sky, seemed to dance effortlessly between the buildings, but namjoon was relentless. his breath came in sharp bursts, each exhale mixing with the cool night air as he pursued them with a single-minded determination.

his boots pounded against the cobblestones, his cloak billowing behind him like a dark specter in the night. the chase led him out of the city and into the dense woods that bordered the outskirts. the trees loomed tall and foreboding, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out to ensnare the unwary. namjoon’s heart raced, adrenaline pumping as he navigated the underbrush, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across his path.

he finally caught sight of the assassins again, their figures moving with purpose through the trees. his gaze locked onto one of them—a particularly formidable figure—whose sword gleamed ominously in the moonlight. with a burst of speed, he closed the distance, drawing his own sword with a metallic hiss. the confrontation was immediate and intense. the assassin met namjoon’s blade with a skilled parry, the clash of steel echoing through the woods. they circled each other, eyes locked, each strike and counterstrike a testament to their training and resolve. mamjoon’s movements were precise and calculated, each swing of his sword a carefully measured attack. the assassin, equally adept, responded with a series of fluid, almost graceful maneuvers, his own blade a deadly extension of his will. it was his lifeline, it was what his second family taught him to do. the rumor had long swept the palace that namjoon had hunted down every wolf in the area, and he only proved it to be true.

as they fought, you had been wandering through the woods, taking a break from your sightseeing. the peaceful silence of the forest had been disrupted by the sounds of the fierce battle, and curiosity had drawn you further into the woods. the clash of swords was soon replaced by more hushed, but still tense, sounds as you stumbled upon a secluded clearing.

there, hidden behind the trees, you watched in horror as a group of masked assassins gathered around a figure you recognized as prince chaehee. the assassins, their heads bowed in deference, stood in a semi-circle around him. his expression was cold and calculating as he surveyed the group, his eyes gleaming with a ruthless edge. with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the failed assassins, his voice a low murmur of disdain. the air grew tense, and you watched in growing dread as his guards stepped forward. without hesitation, the guards drew their blades and executed the failed assassins. the silent, efficient killings were over before you could fully process what was happening.

you gasped involuntarily, the sound escaping before you could stifle it. the noise was faint, but in the quiet of the night, it was enough. chaehee’s head snapped around, his eyes scanning the shadows for the source of the disturbance. panic surged through you, and you took a step back, trying to retreat quietly. you bolted, stumbling through the underbrush as fast as you could manage. the woods seemed to close in around you, branches snagging at your clothes as you fled.

namjoon had managed to subdue the assassin he was fighting. panting heavily, he pressed the blade of his sword against the assassin’s throat, his eyes cold and unyielding. “tell me who you’re working for,” he demanded, his voice a low growl. the assassin, still reeling from the fight, hesitated. namjoon’s grip was unrelenting, and the assassin’s eyes darted nervously. his eyes flicked towards the trees, sensing that something was off. just as the assassin seemed on the verge of breaking, you burst into the clearing, breathless and disheveled.

“help!” you gasped, staggering towards namjoon. “you don’t understand, i saw—” before you could finish, the assassin saw an opportunity. he grabbed you, holding his sword to your throat with a threatening snarl. namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, his blade momentarily faltering. namjoon’s expression hardened, and he raised his sword, pointing it directly at your face. the cold steel of the blade felt like a chilling weight on your skin, and you could see the glint of the edge as it pressed against your neck.

“please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “just let me go.” namjoon’s smirk was icy and detached. “one woman means nothing to me,” he said, his tone devoid of sympathy. “tell me what i want to know.”

the assassin wavered, his grip on the sword loosening slightly. namjoon’s gaze was steely, his resolve unshaken. he pressed the assassin further, his voice a harsh demand for the name. victory seemed close at hand when you took a desperate measure. with a burst of adrenaline, you bit the assassin’s hand, the sudden pain causing him to stagger back.

the assassin stumbled in fury, moving to strike you again. namjoon’s reaction was swift, but before he could intervene, a dagger flew through the air, embedding itself in the assassin’s head. the figure slumped to the ground, lifeless, as hansol stepped into view. his arrival was dramatic but unwelcome for namjoon. the older prince’s presence was a complication namjoon had not anticipated. his eyes flashed with anger as he turned to confront hansol.

“you ruined everything,” he snapped, his sword still pressed close to your bloody neck, grabbed you roughly, his expression a mixture of frustration and rage. “why did you have to interfere?”

hanaol’s eyes were sharp and unwavering as he faced namjoon. with a flick of his wrist, he drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at his neck. “let her go,” haneul ordered, his voice firm and commanding. namjoon’s gaze met his, and in a swift, fluid motion, he whirled to clash swords with him. the metal of their blades met with a resounding clash, sparks flying as they engaged in a tense duel. the forest seemed to hold its breath as the two princes fought, their movements a deadly ballet of skill and precision.

“why should i?” namjoon spat, his voice laced with frustration. “this woman cost me answers. i won’t let her go until i get what I need.”

the night air was still and heavy as you stood among the trees, the remnants of the chaotic battle echoing in the distance. namjoon’s grip was a vice around your throat, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disbelief. hansol, standing nearby, observed the scene with a stern expression. “you’re saying you saw a group of assassins being killed?” namjoon’s voice was a harsh whisper, his grip tightening as he tried to extract the truth from you. “by someone’s guards?”

you nodded frantically, trying to catch your breath. “yes, i swear. they were executed. i saw it happen.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “show us where.”

you led them through the woods, your heart pounding as you moved swiftly through the darkened paths. the eerie silence that followed was suffocating. when you finally arrived at the spot, the clearing was empty, devoid of any evidence of the massacre you had described. you looked around, your voice trembling. “i swear, it was here. they were killed by guards. i saw it with my own eyes.”

namjoon’s patience snapped. he grabbed you roughly by the neck, his face a mask of fury. “you’re lying,” he growled. “there’s nothing here.” fear surged through you, and you gasped for breath. “i’m not lying!” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “i saw it. i swear i did.”

hansol had been the one examining the surroundings. his eyes caught a subtle detail on one of the trees—a patch of blood, faint but unmistakable. “look,” he said, pointing at the stain. “they were definitely here.”

namjoon’s grip on your neck loosened as he turned to inspect the bloody patch. His expression shifted from anger to contemplation. “so whoever killed them is the one who hired them,” he deduced. he turned back to you, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “what else did you see? who else was there?”

panic gripped you, and you shook your head frantically. “i couldn’t make out the face. It was too dark, too chaotic.” namjoon’s eyes flashed with anger once more. “you’re lying. i know you are. don't you know i'll kill you for it?”

the threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, and your sobs grew louder as the weight of his words sank in. “why are you so cruel?” you cried out, your voice cracking. “what have i done to deserve this?”

he seemed momentarily taken aback by your anguish. his expression softened ever so slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “you’re in my way,” he said coldly. “i need to solve this issue, and if you’re not helping, you’re a liability.”

through your sobs, a memory surfaced—a fleeting image of the killer. you recalled a detail that had seemed strange in the midst of the chaos. “he had fur on him,” you blurted out. “i saw fur. i don’t know whose it was, but there was fur.”

namjoon and hansol exchanged a look of recognition. they knew immediately who the fur might belong to. namjoon’s eyes widened with realization. “if you didn’t see his face, then we’re still dealing with a mystery, but that clue is crucial. i need to find him now.” without another word, he turned and sprinted back towards the city, his figure quickly disappearing into the night. you were left standing in the woods, your body trembling with sobs.

hansol, watching you from a distance, observed your emotional state with a mixture of curiosity and concern. he approached you slowly, his expression softening. despite the gravity of the situation, he found something oddly endearing in your distress. he hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gently enveloped you in his arms. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a comforting contrast to the harshness you had just experienced. “it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his voice soothing. “you’ll be alright. i promise.”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his robes as you wept uncontrollably. hansol’s hand gently stroked your back, shushing you softly. “you did your best,” he said, his tone calming. “just try to stay calm. we’ll figure this out.” as the tears slowly subsided, you could feel haneul’s reassuring presence grounding you, offering a sliver of comfort amidst the turmoil. the night continued to envelop the woods in its dark embrace, but for a moment, in his arms, you felt a fragile sense of security.

you woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows, a gentle warmth settling over you as you stirred from sleep. the sudden clatter of footsteps and the murmur of voices drew you from your dreams. you blinked groggily and found lady ja standing beside your bed, her face etched with concern. “wake up,” she said, her voice a mix of urgency and worry. “i’ve been looking for you. what happened to your neck?”

you touched the tender area where the assassin's blade had grazed you. “it’s nothing,” you assured her, offering a reassuring smile despite the sting. “i’m fine. it’s just a scratch.” she didn’t look entirely convinced but let it go, focusing instead on the bustle around her. the other maids were helping her sort through a collection of old gowns, meticulously folding and packing them.

“what’s all this for?” you asked, observing the activity with curiosity. “it’s for a donation,” lady ja explained, her tone carrying a hint of pride. “the king has these events from time to time, where old clothes are given to those in need. hansol goes to oversee the donations.”

you tilted your head, thinking. “does he go alone?” she nodded, confused. “yes, he usually does. why do you ask?” you shrugged. “i think you should go with him. it’s what husbands and wives do, isn’t it?” her eyes lit up with a soft smile. “is that so?”

you nodded enthusiastically. “of course. and if you want, i could even do your makeup for you. it would be my pleasure.” lady ja’s gratitude was evident in her eyes. “would you really? that would be wonderful.”

“absolutely,” you said, eager to help. you busied yourself with powders, oils, and brushes, working diligently to enhance her features. as you applied the makeup, you apologized for your lack of experience. “i’m not quite used to this yet. i hope it turns out alright.”

she seemed pleasantly surprised as you finished. “you did a marvelous job,” she said, taking the mirror you handed her. her eyes widened in amazement. “you’ve made me look so youthful.” you smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “i’m glad you like it. enjoy yourself today.”

to your surprise, she had other plans. “no, you should come with me. i’d like your company.”

you both ventured out together, joining the others in distributing food to the children. from a distance, hansol observed you with a warm, approving smile. the scene was bustling with activity. you were handing out treats to the eager children when a small altercation caught your attention. one of the boys snatched a treat from his friend’s hand and dashed off, leaving his friend in tears.

without hesitation, you pursued the boy, your heart pounding as you caught up to him. you knelt to his level, pinching his cheek gently. “is it okay to steal from a friend?” you asked softly. the boy shook his head, eyes wide with remorse. “then,” you said with a smile, “how about we make a deal? if you give the treat back, i’ll give you both two each.” the boy’s face brightened as he returned the stolen treat. you handed out the additional treats, and the children’s smiles returned. lady ja watched, her eyes filled with admiration, while hansol’s smile broadened. the scene was one of simple joy, and it seemed to resonate deeply with both of them.

you found chayeon in the corridor, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with your rising panic. your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve as you approached her. “chayeon,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “what’s the punishment for hitting a prince? is it severe?” she glanced up from her tasks, a hint of discomfort in her eyes. “it’s not something to take lightly,” she said vaguely, her tone evasive. “it could be quite serious.”

before you could probe further, the clatter of footsteps and the sight of two guards alerted you to prince baekhyun’s arrival. he climbed the stairs with an air of authority, his gaze fixed on you.

“you should show more gratitude,” he said as he approached, his tone unexpectedly light. you blinked, confused. “gratitude for what?”

his expression shifted awkwardly. “i had to beg the king to let you go unpunished.” you were taken aback by his unexpected revelation. “why would you do that?”

baekhyun hesitated, unable to find the right words. the silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his actions stemmed from something more personal. the thought that he might be harboring feelings for you crossed your mind, but he remained tight-lipped. before you could voice your curiosity, you gave a sincere, “thank you.”

you turned to leave, but sang’s voice halted you. “wait,” he called, his tone shifting to something more casual. “you should repay me for this favor.”

you arched an eyebrow. “repay you how?” baekhyun’s gaze softened slightly, though he still maintained his composure. “i want to see you at least once a day, every day.”

a laugh bubbled from your lips, both relieved and amused. “that’s the least i can do,” you said, beginning to walk away. “consider this our first day,” he called after you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. with a final nod, you walked away, feeling a strange mix of relief and curiosity about the new arrangement.

the night was cloaked in darkness as namjoon raced through the narrow, twisting paths leading to the hidden temple. his breath came in ragged bursts, the cold night air stinging his lungs as he pushed his horse to its limits. the news of the renounced monks taking refuge in an isolated temple had reached him in the midst of the chaos, and he knew he had to act swiftly. the steep, rocky hillside loomed ahead, its shadowed contours barely discernible against the moonlit sky.

the temple was perched precariously at the top of the hill, its ancient stone walls weathered and worn. as he approached, he could see the flickering glow of torches from within the temple's crumbling walls. he dismounted swiftly, drawing his sword as he climbed the final ascent. his mind raced with thoughts of the assassins who had attacked him, their inability to speak striking him as odd. he recalled tales of monks who had their tongues cut out as punishment, their silence a symbol of their penance.

reaching the temple, he found the entrance unguarded, the heavy wooden doors hanging loosely on their hinges. the interior was dimly lit by a few scattered torches, their light casting eerie shadows on the cracked and crumbling walls. the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and incense, a remnant of long-forgotten rituals. the temple seemed abandoned, but an unsettling sensation of being watched prickled at the back of his neck.

he closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the subtle sounds around him. the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of wooden beams, and the whisper of unseen movements made his senses keenly aware. suddenly, a figure lunged at him from the darkness, a dagger gleaming in the dim light. instinctively, namjoon deflected the attack with his sword, the blade clashing with metal. he spun around, narrowly avoiding a thrust from a spear, and with a swift and decisive motion, cut down the attacker.

the clamor of combat erupted as more figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding namjoon. he fought with a fierce determination, his movements fluid and precise. his sword sliced through the air, each strike calculated and deadly. the attackers were relentless, but namjoon’s skill was unmatched. he dispatched the first wave of opponents with ruthless efficiency, their bodies falling to the ground as he pressed on.

“where is your leader?” he demanded, his voice cold and commanding. when he received no reply, he growled in frustration. “is there no one here who can speak?” a burly man, his face concealed by a demon mask, charged at him. with a practiced swing, namjoon cut the man’s throat, the blood spraying in a grotesque arc. the temple’s interior was now a scene of carnage, the floor slick with blood and littered with the fallen bodies of the monks. namjoon’s sword flashed through the darkness, his movements a deadly dance of precision and power.

the fight was brutal, each clash of steel and every cry of pain adding to the growing chaos. namjoon’s dexterity with both the long sword and short dagger was apparent, his skill honed through years of training and combat. the battle seemed to stretch on endlessly, but namjoon’s resolve never wavered. his efficiency was such that within minutes, the last of the monks lay defeated on the cold stone floor.

the silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant crackle of flames. namjoon stood alone amid the carnage, his breath coming in heavy, labored gasps. just then, the doors to a nearby building burst open with a deafening crash, and a lone monk stepped out, his eyes cold and calculating. he bowed to namjoon, his expression inscrutable.

“are you the one responsible for this?” namjoon asked, his voice laced with steel. the monk’s gaze was unwavering. “these men had their tongues removed as punishment for their grave sins,” he said. “i have looked after them.”

namjoon’s face hardened. “then all i have to do is get rid of you.” the monk’s eyes flickered with a hint of something—fear, perhaps. “for whom are you doing this?” he asked. “does your mother know?”

namjoon’s smile was cold and dangerous. “a place of no speech, yet someone here has a lot of words,” he replied. he raised his sword, the blade gleaming in the flickering light. “you’ll die for her sake.” the monk’s defense was swift but ultimately futile. namjoon’s first blow was deflected, but he pressed on with a series of quick, lethal slashes. the monk fell to the ground, the life draining from him as namjoon’s sword pierced his gut. as the man gurgled out his final breaths, namjoon leaned in close, his voice a deadly whisper. “you’ve lived off the queen, so now you die for her.”

with that, namjoon turned and walked away, the weight of his bloody sword heavy in his hand. the temple was already beginning to burn, the flames consuming the ancient structure in a brilliant, destructive blaze. the night was filled with the crackling of fire and the distant wail of sirens as he made his way down the hillside. as he staggered away from the burning temple, the sight of the inferno lighting up the dark sky, he found himself near the palace. his heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. he needed to confront his mother, to make her understand the cost of her machinations.

in the dead of night, he slipped into the palace unnoticed, his steps silent on the cold marble floors. he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors until he reached queen jiyoung’s chambers. the door was slightly ajar, and he could see the queen sleeping soundly within. without hesitation, namjoon pushed the door open and stepped inside. his bloodied sword still dripping, he approached the bed where his mother lay. queen jiyoung stirred, her eyes opening in shock as she saw the figure looming over her. she shrank back, her face a mask of fear.

namjoon’s smile was a mix of sadness and resolve. “you will remember this night,” he said softly, his voice carrying a bitter edge. “you abandoned me, but i shall not leave. i ask only that you see me.”

the night air was still, heavy with the smoke from the burning temple. namjoon, covered in blood and soot, wandered through the quiet, his mind a tumultuous storm of rage and pain. his steps led him to a small, serene area by a river, where prayer stones were meticulously stacked by mothers who sought divine protection for their children. the sight of these humble offerings, imbued with the hopes and fears of countless families, was like a cruel reminder of the normalcy and peace he had been denied.

with a sudden, violent motion, he lashed out at the prayer stones. his sword, still slick with the blood of the monks, sliced through the air and sent a stack of stones toppling over. they tumbled and scattered across the ground, the delicate balance of their arrangement shattered. his face twisted into a mask of fury as he watched the chaos he had wrought, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

you had been trailing on a path of your own, yet his distress and desperation were in reach. as you saw the destruction and the storm of emotions on namjoon's face, you rushed forward to try and stop him. but as you neared, he turned and roughly shoved you away, his strength surprising and painful. you stumbled, barely catching yourself as you fell to the ground. when you looked down, your hands were smeared with the remnants of the toppled stones and, to your horror, the blood that had transferred from his.

hia laughter came out in a jagged burst, a chilling sound that reverberated through the night. “it’s the blood of those i killed today,” he declared, his voice a mix of derision and anguish. he looked at you with a wild, unhinged expression, his eyes alight with a manic energy. the laughter died in his throat as he glared at you, his anger and despair mingling in a volatile mix.

“why do you even care about these prayer stones?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space. “my mother shouldn’t be here praying. she should come to me and beg for mercy instead.”

you tried to hold him back, your voice trembling but resolute. “you’re injured,” you said, hoping to redirect his attention. you meant his hand, which was gripping the sword with a force that must have caused him pain. but instead of heeding your concern, namjoon grabbed you by the collar, his grip tight and unyielding. his eyes, though fierce, held a flicker of surprise at your lack of fear.

“i told you,” he warned, his voice low and intense, “i killed people.” his words hung heavy in the air, and you met his gaze with calm understanding rather than the fear he seemed to expect. you did not flinch or recoil but remained steady, sensing the torment within him.

“i understand,” you said softly. “tell me what happened. why did you do it?”

the vulnerability in your tone seemed to reach him, and for a moment, his fierce grip loosened. he stared at you, confusion and a touch of something like relief crossing his features. he shook his head, as if trying to dispel the emotions swirling within him. “go,” he said, his voice cracking. “you don’t need to be here.”

but you stood firm. “no,” you said. “i understand more than you think. you grew up in a world where wielding a sword was a necessity, where killing was not a choice but a survival tactic. what you did today—what you’ve done—was driven by what you were taught.”

namjoon’s face was a mask of conflicted emotions, his eyes searching yours for judgment or pity. instead, he found only empathy. “but what can you do?” you continued, your voice steady and kind. “what can anyone do in a world like this? you must be feeling so miserable right now. i think i understand.”

his grip on your collar finally released, and you took a step back, giving him space. he remained where he was, his body slumped slightly as if the weight of his actions was beginning to sink in. he stared at the scattered prayer stones, his breathing ragged and uneven. you turned and began to walk away, leaving him to grapple with his grief and anger amidst the ruins of the prayer offerings. the night air was cool against your face, and the distant sounds of the village were muted. as you walked away, you glanced back once, seeing namjoon standing alone in the moonlight, the broken stones a mere reminder of the cost of his struggles.

the punishment for namjoon’s reckless act of burning down the temple had been swift and severe. though his role in thwarting the assassination attempt had earned him some leniency, the king had ordered him to be isolated from the other princes for a time—enough to reflect on his actions and the consequences they might have had. he had fulfilled his promise and did all he could to protect tae, which did not go unnoticed. he was given the right to stay. in fact, he was given the right to stay at the palace, but with rewards came consequences. he was to remain confined to a small, remote building on the palace grounds, away from the eyes of the court and the whispers that followed his every move.

the morning had been uneventful, a silence hanging heavy in the air as namjoon spent his hours alone, the weight of solitude pressing down on him. the palace, so full of life and noise, felt a world away from where he now sat, by the stream that bordered the isolated quarters. the water moved slowly, mirroring his own sluggish thoughts as he stared into the distance, lost in the turmoil of his mind.

inside the palace, the maids were gathered in a small cluster, their voices low but urgent as they debated amongst themselves. “i’m not going,” one of them whispered harshly. “i heard what he did. he’s dangerous.” another shook her head, her hands trembling as she twisted the fabric of her apron. “but someone has to take him his lunch. he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“then you take it,” the first maid retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. “i’m not risking my life.”

“i’ll go.” the maids turned, surprised at the sound of your voice. you stood at the edge of the group, having overheard their conversation as you approached. your expression was calm, resolute, as you looked at the tray of food they were hesitating over. “i’ll take it to him,” you repeated, stepping forward and reaching for the tray. the maids exchanged uneasy glances but made no move to stop you.

“are you sure, my lady?” chaeyeon asked, her voice laced with doubt. “they say he’s not right in the head after what happened.” you met her gaze steadily. “i’m sure.”

with the tray in hand, you made your way to the stream, your footsteps light and measured. the closer you got to namjoon’s solitary retreat, the more you could feel the tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. you found him sitting at the very end of the stream, where the water pooled in a small, quiet basin before continuing its journey downstream. he was alone, as you had expected, his figure tense as he sat with his back to you, staring into the distance.

for a moment, you hesitated, unsure if he had heard you approach. but then you gathered your resolve, stepping forward and setting the tray down on the ground beside him. the sound of the plate touching the stone was a soft, delicate clink that seemed to echo in the silence. “eat while it’s warm,” you said gently, your voice breaking the quiet.

namjoon didn’t respond, didn’t even turn to look at you. his silence was heavy, but you could sense the conflict within him, the battle between pride and despair waging just beneath the surface. you turned to leave, respecting his need for solitude, but as you took a step back, something stopped you. a frown creased your brow, and before you could think better of it, you sat back down beside him. the water flowed softly beside you, a soothing presence amidst the tension.

“i won’t say a word about what i saw,” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the stream. you didn’t need to elaborate; you both knew what you were referring to—the prayer stones, his confession, the blood on your hands. namjoon finally turned to you, his eyes dark and intense as they searched your face. “i know,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur.

you tilted your head slightly, studying him. “how do you know? because you’ll kill me if i do?” to your surprise, namjoon’s lips curved into a small, almost incredulous smile. it was the first sign of softness you had seen from him since your encounter by the prayer stones.

“i can’t believe you’re not afraid of me,” he said, a hint of wonder in his tone. there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite understand why you weren’t running from him like the others. you returned his smile, though yours was softer, more reassuring. “why would i be afraid of you?”

namjoon’s gaze faltered, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. “you saw me without my mask,” he began, his voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache, “you should be afraid of an ugly face like that.” you shook your head, your expression earnest. “i could never be afraid of you,” you said softly, the sincerity in your voice undeniable. “besides, you were never ugly.”

the silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the air around you charged with the weight of what wasn’t said. namjoon studied you, as if searching for any hint of deceit in your words, but finding none. then, as if realizing the futility of his own brooding, he released a small sigh. “you should go,” he said, though there was no force behind his words. “this isn’t a place for you.”

you forced yourself to feign seriousness, though your heart ached for him. “eat the food,” you said, trying to bring some normalcy back to the moment. “i have to take the plates back.” his lips twitched into a faint smile, the closest thing to real warmth you had seen from him in a long while. “all right,” he conceded, reaching for the plate. you watched as he began to eat, your heart heavy with the knowledge of his pain, but also with a sense of hope that led him to think that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

lady ja lay in her bed, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps as the illness that had ravaged her body slowly drained the life from her. the once vibrant, commanding presence of the lady of the house was now reduced to a frail figure, barely recognizable beneath layers of quilts. her face, once full of warmth and intelligence, was pale, her skin translucent like fragile porcelain, and her eyes were dull, clouded with the pain she could no longer voice.

beside her, hansol knelt, his tall frame bent low as he held her hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they clasped hers. he had seen her strength, her will to survive, but now all of that was slipping away, and he was powerless to stop it. the room was dim, the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows on the walls, as if the darkness itself was encroaching upon her. “my lady, please hold on,” he whispered, his voice thick with the desperation he could no longer contain. he squeezed her hand gently, trying to offer her whatever strength he had left. the weight of what was happening, of what he was about to lose, pressed down on him like an unbearable burden.

lady ja’s lips curled into a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she gazed at him with a mixture of tenderness and resignation. “your highness,” she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the silence of the room. “i know you don’t love me.”

her words struck him worse than a physical blow, and his eyes widened in shock, tears welling up and spilling over before he could stop them. he opened his mouth to protest, to tell her she was wrong, but the words caught in his throat, choking him with their falseness. he couldn’t lie to her, not now, not in those final moments. seeing the truth in his eyes, lady ja’s smile grew sadder, her hand—a mere shadow of its former strength—reached up to brush a stray tear from his cheek. the touch was feather-light, but it burned with the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

“i’ve seen the way you look at her,” she continued, her tone gentle, free of any bitterness or accusation. “i know you’ve grown to care for her.” haneul’s chest tightened painfully, guilt and sorrow warring within him as he struggled to keep his composure. the truth in her words was undeniable, and it tore at him to know that she had been aware of it, even as she lay dying.

“take care of her,” lady ja whispered, her voice growing weaker with each word, as though even speaking was now too great an effort. “If you can, marry her.”

the tears flowed freely now, silent but unrelenting, as hansol held her hand, feeling the life slipping away from her with each passing second. her breathing grew fainter, her chest rising and falling in a barely perceptible rhythm until, finally, it stopped altogether. her eyes fluttered shut, the last remnants of life leaving them as she passed into the silence that awaited her. for a moment, hansol was frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend that she was gone. the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself had paused in reverence of her passing. he leaned over her, pressing her hand to his lips, the weight of his grief pressing him down until it felt as though he might be crushed beneath it.

it was then that you entered the room, returning home after what you had expected to be just another day. you stopped short in the doorway, your eyes landing on the scene before you—lady ja’s lifeless form on the bed, hansol hunched over her, tears staining his cheeks. panic surged through you, a cold, sharp terror that clawed at your chest and left you gasping for breath. the sobs began to tear from your throat uncontrollably, your mind refusing to accept what your eyes were seeing. you stumbled forward, your hands reaching out as if to pull her back from the brink, to undo what had already been done.

hansol turned at the sound of your cries, his expression weary and etched with sorrow, but there was something else there too—a deep, all-consuming sadness that made your heart ache. his voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as he spoke to you. “be quiet,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm, the words laden with a grief that was beyond anything you could imagine. “let’s not wake my wife.”

the absurdity of his request, of the idea that she could be woken, struck you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief. the reality of the situation, the finality of her death, slowly sank in, and the sobs caught in your throat, leaving you breathless and trembling. you collapsed to your knees beside the bed, your hands covering your face as you wept, the sound muffled but filled with a raw, unfiltered pain that echoed through the room. hansol remained by lady ja’s side, his hand still holding hers, as he watched you with a look of profound sorrow. there were no words left to say, nothing that could ease the pain or make the loss any less devastating.

lady ja’s funeral was a somber affair, the sky overcast and heavy with unshed rain, as if the heavens themselves mourned her passing. the courtyard was filled with mourners, all dressed in white, the traditional color of mourning. the air was thick with the scent of incense, its curling tendrils rising like prayers to the gods above, carrying with them the sorrow and grief of those left behind. you stood among the sea of mourners, your heart a leaden weight in your chest, eyes fixed on the simple wooden casket that held lady ja’s body. it was adorned with white lilies, their delicate petals trembling in the light breeze, a cold contrast to the cold, unyielding wood that now encased her. the image of her peaceful face, so serene in death, was etched into your mind, and the tears you had fought so hard to contain began to blur your vision.

beside you, hansol was a figure of quiet devastation. his usually composed demeanor had crumbled in the face of such overwhelming loss. his eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, were fixed on the casket, his hand gripping yours with a desperation that belied his outward composure. you could feel the tremors that ran through him, the silent sobs that shook his frame as he struggled to keep his grief in check. chaeyeon stood on his other side, her small frame trembling with barely restrained emotion. her usually bright eyes were dulled with sorrow, and she clutched a small white flower in her hands, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip. her gaze never left lady ja’s casket, and you could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving glistening tracks in their wake. she had been so close to her, and now the loss of her was a wound that would take a long time to heal.

the princes had gathered as well, all of them standing in a line of solemnity. each one wore the same expression of respect and sorrow, but there was something different about the thirteenth prince, younghyun. his usually vibrant, youthful face was marred with an anguish that went beyond the collective grief of the others. his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, and you noticed how he seemed to shy away from the others, as though the weight of his emotions was too much to bear.

the ceremony passed in a blur, the priest’s words of blessing and farewell barely registering in your mind. all you could focus on was the sight of lady ja’s casket as it was slowly lowered into the ground, the finality of it hitting you with a force that nearly brought you to your knees. hansol squeezed your hand harder, as though grounding himself through your presence, and you held on just as tightly, a silent promise that you would face this together.

after the ceremony, the crowd began to disperse, each mourner paying their final respects before departing. you saw younghyun slip away from the others, his shoulders hunched, and you felt an urge to follow him. something about the way he carried himself, the way his steps faltered, tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t leave him to his grief alone.

you found him sitting on the stone steps that led to the courtyard, his face buried in his hands. his shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, and you hesitated for a moment before approaching, unsure of what to say. the last thing you wanted was to intrude on his pain, but you couldn’t stand to see him suffer alone.

“your highness,” you called softly, your voice gentle as you took a seat beside him. he didn’t look up, but his sobs quieted slightly, as though your presence alone was enough to offer some small comfort. “what’s the matter?” you asked, keeping your tone soft, hoping to coax him into opening up.

when he finally looked at you, his face was tear-streaked, his eyes red and puffy from crying. “i loved her,” he confessed, his voice breaking on the last word. you nodded, understanding the depth of his pain. “we all did,” you said, your voice filled with the same sorrow that weighed on your heart.

but he shook his head, his expression filled with a sorrow that went deeper than mere grief. “no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “she was my first love.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to him, your frown deepening in confusion. “why didn’t it work out?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

younghyun let out a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound rough and full of pain. “because hansol had her heart from the start,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. “no matter how hard i tried, no matter how much i loved her, she was always his.” his words struck you like a blow, and you felt your heart ache for him, for the love that he had never been able to claim. he had loved her so deeply, and yet it had never been enough to win her heart.

he turned to you, his gaze filled with a raw vulnerability that made your heart clench. “she said i reminded her of you,” he said, his voice breaking once more. a tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his words hitting you with a force you hadn’t expected. you reached out, placing a comforting hand on his, and he grasped it desperately, as though it were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

“she would have given you a chance if she had known,” you said softly, your voice filled with the sincerity of your words. you believed that, in another time, another place, lady ja might have seen the love that younghyun held for her, and perhaps things would have been different. he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment before he released it, letting out a shuddering breath. he was silent for a long time after that, lost in his thoughts, and you stayed beside him, offering what comfort you could with your presence.

eventually, you knew you had to return to hansol’s place, to be there for him in his time of grief. you rose from the steps, giving kyeom one last look of understanding before you turned to leave. as you walked back, your mind heavy with the events of the day, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks when a hand was clamped over your mouth.

panic surged through you, your eyes widening in fear as you screamed, the sound muffled by the hand that held you. you thrashed violently, struggling to break free, but strong arms held you fast, lifting you off your feet. you were thrown onto a horse, the guards surrounding you offering no explanation as they forced you into the saddle. your heart pounded in your chest, terror gripping you as you were carried away, the familiar surroundings of the courtyard disappearing behind you. the ride to the palace was a blur of fear and confusion. you tried to make sense of what was happening, why you were being taken in such a manner, but your mind was too clouded with panic to think clearly.

when you finally arrived, you were still thrashing, your attempts to escape growing more desperate as they dragged you inside. the guards were silent, their faces expressionless as they hauled you into the grand hall where king taejo sat upon his throne, his gaze cold and calculating as he watched your approach. you forced yourself to bow, your mind racing with fear and confusion. “your majesty,” you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady. “what is it that you needed?”

king taejo rose from his throne, his presence commanding and intimidating. he stepped down from the dais, his gaze never leaving yours as he approached, the weight of his authority pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“i’m glad you asked,” he said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. you locked eyes with him, your fear growing with each passing second as he came to a stop before you. there was something in his gaze, something dark and possessive, that made your blood run cold.

“you will become my wife tonight,” he declared, his voice firm and unyielding.

the words hit you like a physical blow, your mind reeling in shock and horror. you had never imagined this, never considered that such a fate would befall you. the reality of it crashed down on you, a wave of dread that left you trembling. but there was no escape, no way to refuse. you were trapped, a pawn in the king’s game, and the realization of it was more terrifying than anything you had ever faced before.

✧.*

a/n: this will take a while since this is based on scarlet heart and ts has like 20 episodes

professor (교수님) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

the classroom was a haven of knowledge, a place where the boundaries of your mind were pushed and expanded. every time you walked through those doors, you were met with an air of possibility, the faint scent of old books mingling with the fresh anticipation of discovery. all of the professors had ways of making the most complex concepts feel within reach, of turning abstract theories into tangible truths that you could almost hold in your hands.

they spoke with a quiet confidence, their words weaving intricate patterns that painted the vastness of the world before you. each lecture was a journey, guiding you through the twisting paths of philosophy, literature, and history. they had a gift for connecting seemingly unrelated ideas, showing you how the art of renaissance painters could influence modern technology, or how ancient philosophies could still hold relevance in the digital age. under their guidance, you realized that learning wasn’t just about absorbing information; it was about seeing the world through different lenses, understanding the interconnectivity of all things.

you delved into texts that explored the human condition, the nature of existence, and the purpose of life. you wrestled with questions that had no easy answers, questions that required you to look within yourself for understanding. it wasn’t just about gaining knowledge for the sake of it—it was about applying what you learned to your own life, using it as a tool to navigate the complexities of existence.

but among all the things you studied—science, art, history, language—there was one thing that stood out as the most important: the lessons you learned. these weren’t found in any textbook or taught in any lecture. they were the lessons life had already carved into your soul, shaped by your experiences, your failures, your triumphs. under your own guidance, you came to understand that the most valuable knowledge you could acquire wasn’t about facts or theories. it was about the wisdom you gained from living, from making mistakes, and most importantly, from learning from those mistakes. in the end, it wasn’t just the information you gathered that mattered, but how you used it to grow, to become better, and to understand the world and yourself more deeply. if only you had put those lessons learned to better use.

you hadn't been taught the lesson of love, not in the way you had learned about history or philosophy. love was never something you could study in a textbook or learn through the wisdom of others. it was a lesson you learned by living it, feeling it, enduring it. but you had always trusted too easily, believing that everyone who offered you a kind word or a gentle touch had your best interests at heart. it was a trait that made those around you frustrated, watching as you opened yourself up to hurt time and again. even you, in quieter moments of reflection, found yourself exasperated by your own naivety. but you couldn't help it; trusting others came as naturally to you as breathing.

so, it was no shock—no surprise, really—when you got your heart broken for the first time. you were in your early twenties, a time when many had already experienced their share of heartbreaks and fleeting romances. you, on the other hand, had waited. you had held out for something real, something lasting, thinking that by doing so, you could avoid the pain that others had endured. but love, as you learned, didn't work that way.

for two years, you were caught up in what you thought was a love that would last forever. you built your life around it, around him. you imagined a future where the two of you would wake up side by side, where you would make breakfast together in a sunlit kitchen, sharing quiet moments over coffee. you dreamed of nights spent stargazing, your fingers intertwined as you pointed out constellations, finding comfort in the steady light of the north star. your idea of forever was simple, yet profound: it was the promise of a shared life, of growing old together, of finding peace in each other's presence.

his idea of forever was something else entirely. it was a fleeting thing, something that could be found at the bottom of a bottle of vodka or in the anonymity of a cheap motel room. it was in the arms of whoever he could get his hands on first, someone who wasn’t you. the realization that he had been unfaithful—repeatedly, with over fourteen different girls—shattered the image of the life you had built in your mind. every girl was another crack in the foundation of your trust, another tear in the fabric of your heart. it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt, but the way you had been so blind to it, so willing to believe that what you had was real.

you were devastated, to say the least. the pain wasn’t just emotional; it was physical, a deep ache that settled in your chest, radiating through your entire body. the nights were the hardest. you would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of your relationship, trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong. you wanted to understand how the love you had given so freely could have been so thoroughly disregarded. but no matter how many times you turned it over in your mind, you couldn’t make sense of it.

the worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry with him. you wanted to be—to scream, to curse him for the way he had treated you—but all you felt was a hollow sadness. you were disappointed in him, but more so, you were disappointed in yourself. how could you have let this happen? how could you have been so foolish, so trusting? you had always prided yourself on being smart, on being able to see through people’s intentions, but when it came to him, you had been blind.

the nights following your heartbreak were long, seemingly endless. sleep was a distant stranger, slipping through your fingers every time you tried to grasp it. Instead, you spent those hours in late-night conversations with your friends, searching for solace in their words. their voices were a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of your despair, even if just for a little while. you talked about everything and nothing, dissecting the intricacies of your failed relationship, trying to find some sense of closure that always seemed just out of reach.

those talks were punctuated by silences filled with the quiet clicking of a lighter, the soft exhale of smoke as you shared a joint or two. the haze it brought was a welcome escape, a way to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts, to ease the relentless ache in your chest. it wasn’t a solution, but it was enough to get you through the night, to carry you to the next day. and on those days when the darkness seemed to press in too close, you relied on the small comforts you could control—a coin flipped to decide whether you would indulge in a few too many sweets or abstain from food altogether. it was a way of exerting some semblance of control over a life that felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp.

but after weeks of the same routine, you began to realize that you were merely existing, floating in a limbo of your own making. the conversations, the indulgences, the vices—they were all temporary fixes, distractions that couldn’t mask the hollow feeling that had settled in your chest. you were tired of it, tired of feeling like a shadow of yourself, tired of being weighed down by the remnants of a love that was never truly yours.

and so, one night, as you stared into the mirror, you made up your mind. you were going to step out of the bubble you had been living in, to let loose, if only for a single night. you reasoned that if he could spend two years indulging in every whim and desire, seemingly without consequence, then why couldn’t you do the same for just one night? why couldn’t you, for once, allow yourself the freedom to be someone else, to cast aside the constraints of who you were and embrace something—someone—new?

as you stood there, gazing at your reflection, you barely recognized the person staring back at you. your makeup was bold, the colors striking and uncharacteristic of your usual understated look. the dress you wore was scandalous, clinging to your curves in a way that made you feel both powerful and exposed. it was a look that screamed confidence, even if you didn’t fully feel it yet. but that was the point, wasn’t it? you were going to stop being you for just one night, just enough time to forget, to drown out the memories of a love that had never truly been yours.

you inhaled deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, steadying yourself for what was to come. Yyu weren’t sure what you were seeking—perhaps a fleeting connection, a momentary escape, someone who could make you forget all about him for a few hours. maybe you didn’t need to know. maybe it was enough to simply let nature take its course, to surrender to the night and whatever it might bring.

the club pulsed with a life of its own, the heavy bass thumping through the floor, reverberating in your chest as the neon lights cast erratic shadows across the crowd. bodies moved in sync with the music, a sea of motion and sound that made it easy to lose yourself if you let it. but your mind, despite the alcohol and the haze of smoke in the air, remained annoyingly sharp, focused on anything but the moment at hand.

you leaned closer to your friend, your voice slightly raised to be heard over the music. “did you hear about the new english and philosophy teacher? they’re replacing—”

ahe groaned, cutting you off with an exasperated look. “please,” she begged, placing a hand on your arm, “not tonight. can we just, for once, not talk about teachers or school or anything remotely responsible? we’re here to let loose, remember?”

you hesitated, the words dying on your lips. she wasn’t wrong. you were supposed to be here to escape, to forget, not to get caught up in the mundane details of your everyday life. but old habits died hard, and it was difficult to switch off the part of you that found comfort in routine and order, even when surrounded by chaos. still, you nodded, forcing a smile, and took a deep breath, letting the noise and the lights and the sheer energy of the place wash over you. “okay,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “okay, let’s do this.”

your friend grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she reached for the bottle on the table. the label was foreign, the name of the alcohol something you couldn’t even begin to pronounce. that should have been your first warning, but tonight was all about ignoring those little voices of caution in your head. she poured a shot for you, and then one for herself, the clear liquid shimmering under the lights. “bottoms up,” she said, lifting her glass.

you mirrored her action, the cool glass pressed against your lips as you downed the shot in one swift motion. the burn was immediate, searing down your throat and settling heavily in your stomach. it was unpleasant, but it was also a distraction, a welcome one at that. you had no intention of focusing on the men who watched you from across the room, their eyes lingering on your exposed skin as if you were some kind of display piece. it made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to ignore it, to focus on the drinking instead. the coin had been flipped, and tonight, apparently, drinking it all away was your new diet. so you did just that. another shot, then another, until the sharp edges of your thoughts began to blur and the leering gazes of strangers became easier to dismiss.

but then, in the midst of it all, you saw him. he was standing at the edge of the crowd, partially obscured by the throng of people. you didn’t see much at first, just a tall figure with a presence that drew your eye. He was turned slightly away, talking to someone, but something about him caught your attention, held it. you found yourself staring, your curiosity piqued in a way that the alcohol couldn’t dull. and then he turned around.

your eyes met, and the world seemed to slow for a moment, the noise around you fading into the background. he was gorgeous, that was your first thought. his features were sharp, striking—high cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes that were dark and intense, holding a depth that made you feel as though he could see right through you. there was a sweet smile on his lips, but it was his eyes that captivated you. there was something almost menacing in them, a contrast that sent a shiver down your spine.

he didn’t look away, and neither did you. for a moment, it was as if the two of you were the only ones in the room, a silent understanding passing between you despite the fact that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. but that didn’t matter. not tonight. before you could second-guess yourself, you did something you wouldn’t normally do. you flashed him a smile, one that you hoped was confident, maybe even a little alluring, and silently prayed that the universe would take your side for once. that, just this once, everything would fall into place.

you turned back around, the music vibrating through your body as you reached for another drink, your hand shaking slightly as you grasped the cool glass. you brought it to your lips and downed it in one go, the burn familiar by now, comforting in its own way. the alcohol was your crutch tonight, something to hold onto as you navigated this unfamiliar terrain of letting go, of not being yourself for just one night. you prayed silently, to whatever or whoever might be listening, that he would come over. that the universe, for once, would be kind. and as if in answer to your unspoken wish, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you turned, heart racing, and there he was. the man from across the room, the one whose gaze had pulled you in and held you captive. his smile was easy, confident, the kind that could make anyone believe that the night might hold something special, something just for you. “mind if i buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily over the noise. “or have you had enough already?”

you smiled, fighting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. fuck, not another drink or you might just convulse, you thought silently. but what you really said was, “you could keep me company, and i might make it worth your while.” he laughed, a sound that seemed to roll through you like the bass in the music, deep and warm. “i like that offer,” he said, as he took a seat next to you, his presence somehow making the world around you feel smaller, more intimate.

there was something about him, something that made you feel like the night was just beginning, like everything before this moment had been leading up to something. you looked at him, really looked at him, trying to decipher what it was that drew you to him, but all you could see were those eyes, that sharp jaw, the way he seemed to belong in a place like this, even if you didn’t. “what’s a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?” you asked, leaning in slightly, letting the alcohol loosen your tongue.

he shrugged, his expression casual, as if the answer didn’t matter much. “felt like it’d be nice for a change,” he replied, before his gaze slid back to you. “what about you?”

you sighed, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders. “i felt it’d be nice too,” you admitted, “but that feeling was dead wrong.” he laughed again, and the sound was a little sharper this time, a little more knowing. it made you pause, a sudden, unwelcome memory resurfacing—a project due tomorrow, something about socrates. you groaned inwardly, realizing how far you had strayed from your usual path, how this was so unlike you.

“a project,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, the thought slipping out before you could stop it. he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “what about?”

“socrates,” you said with a hint of frustration. “i decided to do one on him, but it completely slipped my mind.” he scoffed lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “poor choice, aristotle is much more influential.”

“okay, and?” you countered, a spark of your usual self peeking through. “socrates is the more seminal one.” his amusement deepened, his eyes studying you with renewed interest. “i can’t believe a smart thing like you is in a place like this.”

you frowned, the words not sitting well with you. they reminded you of everything you were trying to forget tonight, everything you didn’t want to be for just a few hours. “i don’t want to be a smart thing,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “not tonight.”

something in his expression shifted, softened, as he looked at you. he placed a hand on your thigh, the touch warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else had that night. “are you sure you feel that way?” he asked gently, his voice low, the words carrying a weight you weren’t sure you could handle. you didn’t feel that way, not really. but tonight wasn’t about what you usually felt, or who you usually were. It was about letting go, about being someone else, if only for a little while. so you forced yourself to nod, even though a small voice in the back of your mind screamed that this wasn’t you, that this wasn’t right.

he seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t push. instead, he simply said, “let me help you.” you opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, he was gently tugging your wrist, gesturing for you to follow him. your vision, blurred by the alcohol and the dim lighting, focused enough for you to see where he was leading you—to the back, to the private rooms. a sense of unease settled in your stomach, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that this was what you wanted, what you needed.

you followed him, your heart pounding louder with each step. the corridor to the private rooms was dimly lit, the music a dull thrum in the background. as you walked, he glanced back at you, that same smile playing on his lips, the one that had stopped you in your tracks just minutes earlier. “i never got your name, sweetheart,” he said, his voice teasing, yet somehow sincere.

you gave him your name, “(y/n) (l/n),” the sound of it foreign in your own ears, as if it belonged to someone else. “and yours?” you asked, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of caution.

he turned to you fully then, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of mischief and something else, something darker. “namjoon,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a confidence that matched everything else about him. “kim namjoon.” and as he said it, you felt the world shift slightly, as if that name carried more weight than you could understand. but you were too far gone to care, too far gone to do anything but follow him, to see where this night might lead, to forget about everything else—your project, your heartbreak, your old self—and lose yourself in the unknown, if only for a few hours.

the private room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls as you and namjoon stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, a sound that seemed to echo in the small space, followed by the unmistakable turn of a lock. it felt final, as if you were sealing yourself off from the rest of the world, from everything you knew, leaving only this moment, this man, and the uncertain promise of the night ahead.

you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his body. the way his broad shoulders filled the space, how his black shirt clung to the muscles beneath, made your heart race. his hands, veiny and strong, were relaxed by his sides, but you couldn’t stop imagining them wrapped around you, feeling their strength and gentleness at once. and his eyes—god, his eyes—were the most mesmerizing of all. they were dark, intense, and held a dangerous kind of allure, like something that could either save you or ruin you, depending on how close you got.

a flicker of doubt wormed its way into your mind. you worried you might not be enough, not for someone like him. he was so composed, so sure of himself, and you—well, you were there trying to forget who you were, trying to become someone else for just a night. what if that wasn’t enough? what if you weren’t enough? namjoon must have sensed your unease because his gaze softened, the same easy smile spreading across his lips as he approached you. his steps were unhurried, confident, and with each one, the air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation.

when he reached you, he didn’t say anything at first. he simply cupped your cheek in his hand, his touch warm, and surprisingly gentle. his thumb stroked your skin, the soft caress sending a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, lost in the darkness of his eyes. “you’re not afraid, sweetheart, are you?” he asked, his voice a low purr that sent another shiver through you. it was a voice that could coax secrets from you, a voice that promised things you weren’t sure you were ready for but found yourself wanting anyway.

was it fear that you were feeling? the heat coursing through your veins, the quickened beat of your heart, the way your skin seemed to burn where he touched you—was that fear? you didn’t know, and the uncertainty of it all made you nervous. but you shook your head, trying to convince yourself as much as him that you weren’t afraid.

he didn’t seem entirely convinced. he let out a soft, almost playful, tsk, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “you should use your words, yeah?” he coaxed, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it, something that told you he wanted you to be sure, that he wanted you to choose this, to choose him. “i promise i’m not,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, but steady enough. it felt like a small victory, a way to prove to yourself that you could do this, that you could be this version of yourself, if only for a night.

it seemed to be enough for him. namjoon’s smile widened, and the warmth in his eyes deepened, drawing you in even further. he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away, to change your mind, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were caught, helpless under the spell he was weaving with every look, every touch. when his lips finally met yours, it was like the world stopped. the kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, tasting it, tasting you. his lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a controlled kind of passion that left you breathless. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing for more, just kissing you like he had all the time in the world and was determined to spend it unraveling you, piece by piece.

you responded tentatively at first, unsure of how to match the intensity of his kiss. but he guided you, his free hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. the heat between you flared, igniting something deep within you, something that made you press back against him, your lips parting slightly as you began to lose yourself in the feel of him. namjoon took the invitation, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a way of marking this moment as something significant, something more than just a fleeting encounter in a club. you could feel the way he held you, firm yet gentle, as if he was trying to tell you something without words, trying to show you how he could make you forget everything, even if just for tonight.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you grounded. his body was solid, reassuring, and the way he held you made you feel small, but in a good way, like you were being enveloped by something safe, something you could trust, even if only for these few stolen hours. he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, and rested his forehead against yours. his breath was warm against your lips, mingling with your own, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, breathing together, the air thick with the tension and the promise of what was to come.

“you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice a whisper in the small space between you. his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, any sign that you weren’t ready. but you were ready. or at least, you wanted to be. you nodded, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was calming in a way, a reminder that despite everything, despite the chaos in your own heart, there was something steady, something real, right in front of you. and so, with the taste of him still lingering on your lips, you whispered back, “i’m sure.”

his smile grew, and his hand slid down to the hem of your dress. with one swift tug, he pulled it over your head, revealing your bare skin to the cool air of the room. you felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was like a warm blanket, wrapping around you, making you feel seen and desired. his eyes raked over you, pausing at your tits, your stomach, your hips, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. he stepped back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your lacy black bra, the one you’d picked out specifically for tonight, hoping it would be enough to catch his eye.

his hands went to his own shirt, and he began to unbutton it, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was almost unbearable, the slow reveal of his chest, his abs, the v of his hips disappearing into his pants. when he was finally bare-chested, you couldn’t help but stare. he was beautiful, sculpted in a way that made your mouth water, and you felt a sudden urge to reach out, to trace every line and curve with your fingertips.

before you could act on the impulse, namjoon stepped closer again, his hand sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. it fell away, and your tits spilled into his waiting hands. his thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. his eyes never left yours as he played with you, teasing you, watching as your breath grew shallower, as your eyes glazed over with lust. “you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. and you nodded, unable to form coherent words as he continued to toy with your sensitive flesh, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging gently until you were squirming against him.

his other hand slid down to your ass, squeezing it firmly, and he stepped closer, pressing his growing erection against your stomach. it was a clear message, one that sent a bolt of excitement through you, making you even wetter than you already were. without breaking eye contact, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking pretty. can’t wait to ruin you.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, your voice a breathless agreement.

his hand moved from your ass to the hem of your panties, and with a quick pull, they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you in absolutely nothing. he knelt down, kissing a trail from your belly button to one your hips, and you could feel the dampness seeping onto his fingers. his fingers slid down your legs, relishing in the fact that you were completely bare before him. his eyes took in the sight of you, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire that mirrored your own.

his hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your clit, making you jump. he chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers through your body. “you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a purr that made you want to melt into him. “yes,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “good, i like that in a woman.”

his hand slid away, and you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the pressure of his mouth on your pussy, his tongue sliding through your folds, tasting you. your legs trembled, and you had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from collapsing. his tongue was skilled, teasing and probing, making you gasp and moan with every stroke. you’d never felt anything like this before, never been this exposed, this wanton. and as he worked you over, you realized you didn’t care. all you cared about was the feel of his mouth on you, the way he was making you feel.

his tongue circled your clit, and you felt your orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew until you couldn’t hold it back any longer. you cried out, your body shaking as you came, the sensation overwhelming you. namjoon didn’t stop, didn’t ease up, just kept licking and sucking until you were a trembling mess, your legs barely able to hold you up.

he stood, a smug smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at his erection, straining against his pants. he noticed your gaze and chuckled, reaching down to free himself. “you want it?” he asked, stroking himself, and you nodded, your mouth dry with need. he led you to the bed, pushing you down gently. “spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice a command that sent a thrill through you. you did as he asked, your heart racing as he climbed on top of you. he positioned himself at your entrance, and without any preamble, pushed inside you. you gasped, the sensation of his size filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

his thrusts were deep and deliberate, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. he groaned, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. “you’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured, his breath hot in your ear. “feel so good around me, baby.”

his hand found your ass, and he began to spank you lightly, the sting melding with the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge again. you moaned, your hips moving in sync with his, your body begging for more. “yes, like that,” you panted, and he complied, his hand coming down harder, the smack echoing in the room.

his movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth grazing your skin. “yes, yes, please, namjoon,” you whimpered, unable to hold back the words that spilled from your lips.

his hand moved to your clit, his thumb pressing down as he thrust into you. the pressure was too much, and you shattered, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. he followed closely behind, his own orgasm ripping through him, his body taut with the effort to hold off until you reached yours.

as you both came down from the high, he collapsed on top of you, his weight feeling surprisingly comforting. you could feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the beat of your own. he kissed your neck, his breathing still ragged, and whispered, “you’re mine for the night, remember that.” and as you lay there, his cock still inside you, you realized you didn’t want it any other way.

his kisses grew softer, more tender, as his hand slid up to cup your cheek. he pulled out slowly, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but before you could miss it too much, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were straddling him. he was still hard, and the feeling of him between your thighs was enough to make you want more. “ride me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you didn’t need any more encouragement than that. you positioned yourself over him, your hands on his chest for balance as you began to slide up and down, his cock filling you with every movement. the sensation was different like this, the angle hitting you in new, delicious ways. you moaned, throwing your head back as you found a rhythm that made your toes curl. namjoon’s hands roamed your body, caressing your tits, your waist, your hips, guiding you, pushing you to go faster, to take him deeper.

his eyes never left yours, watching you with a hunger that made you feel powerful, like you could do anything. and as you moved above him, grinding down on his length, you realized that maybe you could. you felt alive in a way you hadn’t in a long time, free from the constraints of who you were outside of this room.

his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. your eyes rolled back in your head, and you leaned down to kiss him, your movements growing erratic as you approached the edge once more. he swallowed your moans, his own hips bucking up to meet yours, pushing you closer and closer. you felt it building, the tension coiling in your belly, tightening around his cock. your muscles clenched, and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you came, your body shaking with the force of it. namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened, his own orgasm following quickly after, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapsed against him, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the feeling of him, the way he filled you up in more ways than one. as you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night would bring. would it be more of this? or would it end with the club, a memory that you’d cherish forever? either way, you knew you’d never forget the way he’d made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were the most important person in the world. and as you felt his heart beating in time with yours, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to be anyone else but yourself to be enough.

the pale light of dawn was beginning to filter through the cracks in the curtains when you stirred, the dim glow pulling you out of a deep, dreamless sleep. it took you a moment to remember where you were. the unfamiliar surroundings, the dimly lit room, and the soft, warm body lying next to you—everything came rushing back in a disorienting wave. the events of the night before flashed in your mind, and with them, the realization of what time it must be.

your heart began to race as the panic set in. morning classes. you had morning classes, and you weren’t in your bed, you weren’t even in your apartment—you were still here, in a private room that now felt too intimate, too close. you sat up carefully, trying not to disturb namjoon, who was still sleeping peacefully beside you. the sheets were tangled around you both, his hand resting on your thigh, his chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.

your gaze dropped to him, taking in the sight of his relaxed features, his slightly tousled hair, the way the early morning light played across his face. he looked almost boyish in his sleep, the sharpness in his eyes softened, his usually confident demeanor replaced by something more vulnerable. it was a sight that made your heart warm, despite the chaos swirling in your mind. for a moment, you hesitated. there was a strange comfort in being there with him, in the warmth of his presence and the softness of the bed beneath you. part of you wanted to stay, to curl back up against him, to let the world outside wait a little longer. but reality was a harsh companion, and the ticking clock in your mind reminded you that you had responsibilities, a life that didn’t include waking up in a stranger’s bed after a night of reckless abandon.

you gently lifted his hand off your thigh, sliding out of bed as quietly as you could. your feet touched the cool floor, sending a shiver up your spine as you quickly scanned the room for your clothes. they were scattered across the floor—your dress draped over a chair, your shoes lying haphazardly near the door, your bag tucked under the bed. as you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at namjoon. he was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, one arm stretched out across the bed where you had just been. you paused, taking in the way he looked so at peace, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

you dressed quickly, your movements hurried but careful not to make too much noise. the dress, once sleek and form-fitting, now felt slightly wrinkled and askew as you slipped it back on. your fingers fumbled with the zipper, your mind too distracted by the thought of the morning ahead and the fact that you were nowhere near ready for it. just as you reached for your bag, you heard a rustling behind you. you froze, praying he wouldn’t wake up, but when you turned around, there he was—propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-open, still heavy with sleep, but focused on you.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice rough and low, still laced with the remnants of sleep. the sound of it sent a small thrill through you, even as you tried to calm your racing heart. “i have morning classes,” you replied, your voice quiet, almost apologetic. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to apologize, but something about the situation—the intimacy of the moment, the fact that you were leaving so abruptly—made you feel like you owed him an explanation.

namjoon blinked, his gaze sharpening slightly as he processed your words. he sat up fully, the sheets pooling around his waist as he ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “you won’t even let me treat you to breakfast?” he asked, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, though it was tinged with regret. “maybe another time,” you said, already moving toward the door. “but i really can’t be late for my classes.”

he watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “i’ll see you around, then,” he said, his tone easy, but there was a note of something else in it, something that made your chest tighten slightly. you paused at the door, your hand on the handle, and turned back to him. “i had a good time,” you said, the words coming out softer than you intended, but they were true. despite everything, despite the way the morning had come too soon, you didn’t regret the night before.

he smiled again, that warm, disarming smile that had drawn you in from the start. “so did i.” with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind you. the corridor outside was empty, the muffled thump of music from the club below barely audible through the thick walls. you hurried down the hallway, your mind racing with a million thoughts—what you were going to say if anyone saw you, how you were going to explain the state you were in, and most importantly, how you were going to make it to class on time.

the drive back to your apartment was a blur, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as you sped through the early morning streets. the city was still waking up, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a pale, golden light over everything. you barely noticed, too focused on the task at hand—getting home, getting dressed, and somehow making it to class without looking like you had just rolled out of someone else’s bed. when you finally pulled up to your apartment, you nearly tripped over your own feet in your haste to get inside. the keys fumbled in your hand, slipping once, twice, before you managed to unlock the door and rush inside. your apartment was quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with the early morning hours, and for a brief moment, you let yourself pause, leaning against the door as you caught your breath.

there was no time to waste. you darted into your bedroom, shedding your dress and tossing it onto the bed as you rifled through your closet for your uniform. the blouse was slightly wrinkled, the skirt a little too short for your liking, but there was no time to worry about that now. you yanked the blouse on, your fingers clumsy as they buttoned it up, tucking it into the skirt with a haste that left it slightly uneven, but you didn’t care. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you hurried to the bathroom, and winced. your makeup was a mess, the once-perfect red lipstick now faded to a nude smudge, your eyeliner smeared, leaving dark circles beneath your eyes that made you look more like a raccoon than the confident, put-together student you were supposed to be.

there was no time for a full fix, but you did what you could—wiping away the worst of the smudges with a makeup wipe, reapplying a thin layer of a lighter lpstick, and hoping that no one would look too closely. your hair was another matter entirely, tangled and wild from the night before, but a quick brush through had to suffice. with one last look in the mirror—satisfied that you were at least presentable—you grabbed your bag and bolted out the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you rushed to make it to class on time. you didn’t allow yourself to think about namjoon, about the way he had looked at you as you left, or the way his voice had lingered in your mind, soft and warm. there would be time for that later—maybe.

you made it to class just before the bell rang, your breath still a little uneven from the mad dash across campus. the relief that washed over you was short-lived, though, as you barely had time to compose yourself before you felt eyes on you. you caught soobin’s glance from the corner of your eye—he was the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even on your best days, and today was far from your best.

feigning being startled at your sudden appearance, soobin exaggeratedly flinched, his eyes widening in mock surprise before breaking into a smile. “well, well,” he drawled, his tone teasing, “i didn’t think you were gonna make it. i was about to call search and rescue.” you scowled at him, trying to ignore the way his smirk widened. but before you could retort, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “so, how much is a night?”

his words were laced with humor, but they hit too close to home. you glared at him, a retort already on your lips. “you couldn’t afford it,” you shot back, your tone sharp, but there was no real heat behind it. the truth was too raw, too close to the surface, and you weren’t in the mood to joke about it. as you settled into your seat between soobin and heewon, you could feel the tension beginning to ease—only slightly, though. the classroom was slowly filling up, students chatting idly as they waited for class to begin, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

heewon, who had been flipping through her notes, glanced up at you and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of your disheveled appearance. “god, you pull off the messy whore look really well,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “almost like hyuna.” you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for jokes. “not today, hee,” you muttered, reaching into your bag to pull out a small mirror. you avoided looking at her directly as you adjusted your hair, trying to tame the unruly strands that refused to cooperate.

your reflection was unkind, showing the toll the morning’s rush had taken on you—your blouse was still slightly untucked, your skirt wrinkled from where you’d hastily shoved it on, and your lipstick was more of a faint suggestion than an actual color. heewon didn’t miss a beat, though. “if i didn’t know you,” she continued, her voice light and teasing, “i’d say you actually had that one-night stand you were talking about.”

the words hung in the air, and you froze, your hand stilling mid-motion as you applied another layer of nude lipstick. your blood ran cold as you slowly turned to look at her, your expression a mask of forced nonchalance. but she wasn’t fooled—her eyes widened in realization, shock flooding her features as she stared at you. “no way,” she breathed, a little too loud for comfort. her eyes darted around the room, but most of the other students were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “with who?”

you slapped her arm lightly, more out of habit than actual reprimand, and opened your mouth to answer. but before you could get a word out, the door to the classroom creaked open. the sudden silence that fell over the room was deafening, everyone’s attention snapping to the front as the principal stepped inside. he was a tall, stern-looking man with graying hair and sharp eyes, the kind of person who commanded respect without having to say much. he cleared his throat, and the last of the murmurs died away as he addressed the class.

“i’m sure most of you are aware by now that mister im has decided to leave us,” the principal began, his voice measured and calm. “but i wanted to personally introduce you all to your new english and philosophy professor.” there was a pause as he turned to the door, gesturing for the man outside to step in. the classroom was so quiet that you could hear the faint rustle of papers, the shifting of feet—everyone waiting with bated breath for the new teacher to make his entrance. and then he stepped in.

the world seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the man walking through the door. everything else fell away—the murmurs of the students, the sound of the clock ticking on the wall, even the very breath in your lungs—all of it disappeared as your gaze fixed on him. it was him. the man you had spent the night with, the one whose name you had whispered in the dim light of the private room just hours before. and now, here he was, standing in front of you as your new professor.

namjoon—no, professor kim namjoon—mister kim? whatever he was going to be called from that point on, froze in his tracks, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. for a moment, he looked just as shocked as you felt, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. but there was no mistaking it—you were as real as they came, sitting there with wide eyes and a racing heart, just as he was standing there, trying to process the impossibility of the situation.

the principal, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air, turned to namjoon, his voice breaking the silence. “is everything okay?” namjoon blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. he cleared his throat, his expression smoothing into something more composed, though you could see the faint tension in his jaw. “yes, everything’s fine,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the slight edge to it, the barely perceptible waver that only someone who knew him—or had spent the night with him—might notice.

he turned back to the class, his gaze sweeping over the rows of students, but his eyes remained firmly on you as he introduced himself. “i’m professor kim namjoon,” he said, his voice carrying through the room with a quiet authority. “i’ll be your new english and philosophy instructor.” you were stunned into silence, your mind reeling as you tried to process what was happening. the man who had been a nameless stranger just hours before was now your professor, standing there in front of the entire class, his attention seemingly focused on you alone.

there was a brief moment where you thought you might faint, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. but then namjoon’s gaze softened, just slightly, and you saw something there—recognition, yes, but also something else. a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe just a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. and then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the calm, composed demeanor of a professor addressing his class. he began speaking again, introducing the syllabus and his expectations for the course, but you barely heard a word of it. all you could focus on was the fact that your night of recklessness had followed you here, into the one place you had thought was safe, and there was no escaping it now.

as he continued to speak, you forced yourself to sit up straighter, to adopt the same mask of composure he had. but inside, you were anything but calm. your mind was racing, your thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and disbelief. heewon nudged you, her eyes wide as she glanced between you and namjoon, clearly sensing something was off but not daring to ask. soobin, for once, was silent, his usual teasing smirk replaced by a look of genuine concern.

but none of it mattered. not really. because as namjoon’s gaze flickered back to you, just for a moment, you knew that it was far from over. the connection you had felt the night before was still there, humming beneath the surface, and there was no telling where it might lead—or what it might cost you. the bell rang, signaling the start of class, but for you, it felt like the beginning of something else entirely.

namjoon had composed himself almost too well for someone who had just discovered an unexpected connection in his classroom. his voice was steady, professional, as he launched into the introduction of the day's topic—a deep dive into existential philosophy, a subject that would set the tone for the entire semester. his words flowed with an easy confidence, drawing the attention of the entire class, but your mind was a whirlwind, struggling to keep up with the reality of the situation. as he spoke, you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the man who stood before you now with the one you had been so intimately close to just hours ago. every time his eyes drifted toward you, your gaze would dart away, your heart beating too fast, too loud.

just as you were beginning to gather your thoughts, namjoon posed a question to the class, inviting anyone to share what they knew about existentialism. before you could react, heewon’s hand shot up beside you. “oh, (y/n) knows all about that,” she announced, her voice light with an undercurrent of mischief. she shot you a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised as if daring you to deny it.

you turned to face her, your eyes pleading, practically begging her to drop it. but she was never one to back down from a moment like this, especially when she sensed there was more to the story. your warning gaze seemed to only fuel her amusement. namjoon’s eyes flicked from heewon to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying a playful edge that only you seemed to notice. “i figured you’d know it. you probably know most of the plan and program.”

his words hung in the air, the double meaning not lost on you. there was an almost imperceptible pause before he continued, his gaze locked onto yours. “why don’t you tell us what you know?” you swallowed hard, your mind racing to find an answer, any answer. but all you could think about was the night before—the way his voice had sounded in your ear, the warmth of his skin against yours. the memories clouded your thoughts, making it impossible to focus on the question he’d asked.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. the silence stretched on, heavy and awkward, until soobin nudged you gently from the other side. his elbow digging into your ribs jolted you back to reality, and you forced yourself to speak. “sartre believed that existence precedes essence,” you began, your voice quieter than usual, barely above a whisper. “it means that we're born without purpose, and it’s our responsibility to give our lives meaning through our actions.”

namjoon’s smile widened, a look of approval crossing his face. “outstanding,” he said, his tone genuine, almost too warm. he paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he asked, “what’s your name?” the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent again, unable to form a response. it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the classroom and the other students fading into the background. your mouth opened, but no sound came out, the weight of his gaze rendering you speechless.

another nudge from soobin brought you back to the present. you blinked, realizing that you had to respond. “it’s (y/n) (l/n),” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. namjoon nodded, a hint of something unreadable in his expression as he repeated your name, letting it linger in the air. “(y/n),” he said softly, almost like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “thank you for sharing.”

you could feel heewon’s eyes on you, a mixture of curiosity and realization dawning on her face. she wasn’t a fool—she had seen the way you had reacted, the way namjoon had looked at you, and it didn’t take long for her to start putting the pieces together. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what she thought, not when all you could focus on was him. he continued with the lecture, but you hardly heard a word of it. every time he turned back to the class, your gaze would drop to your desk, your heart thudding in your chest. the tension in the room was palpable, and you could tell that soobin and heewon were both aware of it, even if they didn’t fully understand why.

after what felt like an eternity, namjoon began handing out sheets of paper, instructing the class to spend the next fifteen minutes writing an essay on the topic he had introduced. you barely registered the words, your mind still caught up in the swirl of emotions from earlier. when he reached your desk, he paused, his movements slower, more deliberate. as he set the paper down in front of you, his hand brushed against your fingers, the contact brief but electric. you looked up at him, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw something in them—a flicker of desire, maybe, or perhaps just a shared acknowledgment of the impossible situation you both found yourselves in.

he took his bottom lip between his teeth, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. the air between you crackled with tension, so thick that you could almost taste it. namjoon didn’t miss the look in your eyes, nor did he miss the way your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the sight of him. his gaze dropped for just a second before he looked back at you, his expression unreadable but intense.

heewon and soobin exchanged a worried look, sensing that something was off but unsure of what to make of it. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who had somehow become both a stranger and something more in the span of just one night. namjoon lingered for a moment longer before moving on to the next student, but the heat of his touch stayed with you, lingering on your skin long after he had stepped away. you stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions, wondering how you were supposed to focus on anything else when the only thing you could think about was him.

you stared at the blank sheet of paper for what felt like forever, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. the memory of Namjoon’s touch lingered on your skin, his presence looming over you despite him moving on to the next student. every word you tried to write felt forced, disjointed, as if your mind was too occupied with the events of the night before to form a coherent sentence. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to focus, to string together an essay that would meet namjoon’s expectations—or at least not embarrass yourself in front of him. you could feel his eyes on you occasionally as he walked around the room, checking on the other students, and every time, it made your heart race and your fingers tremble.

finally, you managed to write something—an essay that was far from your best work, but at least it was done. the bell rang, its sharp sound jolting you out of your thoughts. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relief washing over you as namjoon dismissed the class with a curt nod. the scraping of chairs and the shuffling of feet filled the room as everyone stood up and turned in their papers. you gathered your things slowly, hoping to blend in with the crowd, to escape without another encounter with him. as you moved toward the front to turn in your essay, soobin and heewon caught your attention.

“we’ll wait outside for you,” soobin said, a smirk playing on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t. your eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him not to leave you alone in this classroom. but it was too late; they were already heading out the door, leaving you and namjoon as the last ones in the room. you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes down, refusing to meet it. you set your paper on his desk, trying to make a quick exit.

but just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “i didn’t know you went to college here.” you froze, every muscle in your body tensing at his words. you slowly turned around, forcing yourself to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “i didn’t know you worked here,” you replied, your voice barely steady.

the silence that followed was thick with tension, the air heavy with everything that was left unsaid. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the same uncertainty that mirrored your own. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on you both. then he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. his gaze hardened, the warmth from earlier replaced with something colder, more distant. “please only refer to me as your professor from now on,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the finality of them sinking in. it felt like your heart was physically breaking, the pain sharp and immediate. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. he paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he continued. “pretend like anything we had didn’t happen, for our sake.”

you nodded, the motion stiff and mechanical, even as the nausea churned in your stomach. it felt like the ground was slipping out from under you, like you were free-falling and there was nothing to catch you. but you forced a small, tight-lipped smile, doing your best to hide the turmoil inside. “see you next period, professor kim,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the room, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you. as you pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, the noise and bustle of the other students barely registered.

all you could think about was the way he had looked at you, the coldness in his eyes, and the realization that whatever connection you had felt the night before was now nothing but a distant memory. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his voice in your ear, but it all felt so far away now, like a dream that had ended too soon. heewon and soobin were waiting for you just outside the classroom, their expressions shifting from playful to concerned the moment they saw you. heewon opened her mouth to say something, but you shook your head, silently begging her not to ask. you couldn’t talk about it, not now—not when everything felt so raw, so real.

the day felt like a blur as you made your way through the bustling hallways, trying to shake off the weight of the morning’s events. you met up with soobin and heewon during your free period, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. the café in the student center was a welcome escape, its warm lighting and soft chatter offering a brief respite from the chaos in your mind. you slid into a booth with them, the leather seats creaking under the weight of your exhaustion. you barely registered the vibrant colors and bustling activity around you, too preoccupied with the events of the morning.

“so,” soobin said, leaning in with an inquisitive look. “what the hell happened between you and professor kim?” you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. with a heavy sigh, you began recounting the events of the previous night—everything from the club, the fleeting connection with namjoon, to the morning’s abrupt encounter in class. your friends listened in stunned silence, their eyes widening with each detail.

when you finished, soobin’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting between you and heewon. “i didn’t expect that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. heewon, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “he’s like, the hottest professor ever. you did good, really good.”

you managed a weak smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a twinge of warmth despite the tumult inside. as you looked around, your gaze fell upon namjoon again, this time surrounded by a swarm of female students. they clustered around him, offering water and engaging in casual conversation. his earlier gaze had been replaced by a smile that was charming but distant, his attention firmly on his admirers. “guess you aren’t his only fan,” soobin remarked dryly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

you turned back to your friends, trying to mask the tightness in your chest. “i don’t care,” you said, your voice carrying a trace of frustration. “i’m not allowed to care.” heewon placed a reassuring hand on your arm, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look on the bright side,” she said gently. “you got over your ex, if anything. and maybe, in some weird way, this is a chance to start fresh.”

her words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to remind you of the painful truth. the breakup with your ex had left you vulnerable and searching for validation, and namjoon’s presence had complicated everything in ways you hadn’t anticipated. but you nodded, appreciating her attempt to offer perspective. you managed a grateful smile, the gesture feeling heavy but sincere. as you sipped your coffee, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. the conversation drifted, and you tried to focus on the mundane topics your friends brought up, but your thoughts kept returning to namjoon.

the next day unfolded with a disorienting sense of déjà vu, as if you were trapped in a cycle you couldn’t escape. the english period began with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the previous day’s awkward encounter with namjoon. his presence was now a constant, uncomfortable weight, and you braced yourself for another session of tense interactions. he entered the classroom, his authoritative stride commanding immediate attention. he took his place at the front, his gaze scanning the room with a sharpness that made your skin prickle. the air seemed charged with unspoken tension as he began his lesson, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.

throughout the class, it became increasingly clear that namjoon was deliberately targeting you. his questions were relentless, designed to probe and unsettle. his piercing eyes would lock onto you as he asked complex questions about the texts you’d studied. “so,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of challenge, “can you tell me how socrates’ concept of virtue contrasts with plato’s theory of forms?” you stumbled over your answer, your mind racing to piece together a coherent response. “um, socrates—he believed that virtue was a form of knowledge, right? and plato, well, he thought virtue was tied to the ideal forms?”

namjoon clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the sound echoing through the classroom. “not quite. socrates did indeed view virtue as a form of knowledge, but plato’s theory of forms goes beyond that, focusing on the ideal forms as the true reality of virtue.” the click of his tongue felt like a stinging reprimand, and you could feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. from behind, soobin offered a comforting wink, his eyes twinkling with mischief. you smiled back, grateful for his support, even if you didn’t fully understand his intentions.

as namjoon moved through the rows, he handed back the essays with a stoic expression. when he reached your table, he paused, his eyes scanning your paper. “you can do better,” he said, despite the high mark you’d received. his voice was flat, dismissive, and it stung more than the failing grade could have.

soobin leaned over as his eyes raked over the positive mark on your paper, a smirk playing on his lips. he whispered, “congratulations,” before wrapping his arms around your neck in a gesture that surprised you. he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring. “well done,” he added, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the brief moment of affection. it was partly for show, a subtle defiance in the face of namjoon’s scrutiny, but it felt genuine enough to offer a small comfort. as he pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice namjoon’s eyes flicking toward you, his expression unreadable but his demeanor tense.

the moment was shattered when soobin dropped his pencil, its clatter startlingly loud in the quiet classroom. he turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and said, “could you get that for me?” you nodded, bending over to retrieve the pencil. the motion was unavoidably revealing, your short skirt riding up just enough to provide a provocative view. you could feel namjoon’s gaze on you, intense and almost overwhelming. as you picked up the pencil, you glanced up to see soobin’s eyes fixed on you, his gaze deliberate and knowing.

you handed the pencil back to him, who responded with a smirk, “thank you, sweetheart.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he watched the interaction. his knuckles whitened around the stack of papers in his hand, the sheets crumpling under the pressure of his grip. the sight of soobin’s gaze on you seemed to inflame his irritation, and he struggled to maintain his composure. the tension broke when he suddenly snapped, “pop quiz.”

the sharpness of his command cut through the room, drawing startled gasps from the students. you looked back to see soobin’s smirk widening, a silent acknowledgment of the provocation. you couldn’t help but return his smirk, feeling a mix of amusement and defiance. as he began distributing the quiz papers, the atmosphere in the room shifted. the playful energy between you and soobin contrasted sharply with namjoon’s stern demeanor.

the bell's chime reverberated through the classroom, signaling the end of the period. as students shuffled to their feet, handing in their quizzes with murmurs of relief, you lingered behind, finalizing your answers and tapping the pencil against the paper. you were the last to submit your quiz once again, and as you made your way to the front, you glanced at the clock, calculating how much time you had before your next class.

with your quiz in hand, you approached namjoon's desk, determined to leave the room as quickly as possible. however, as you turned to head for the door, namjoon's voice stopped you in your tracks. “come here,” he commanded, his tone firm yet laden with an undercurrent of something else. your stomach tightened at the sound of his voice. “is everything okay, professor kim?” you asked, your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

namjoon's posture stiffened, a subtle shift in his demeanor that you noticed immediately. he adjusted himself in his chair, spreading his legs slightly. as you met his gaze, your eyes flickered momentarily to the front of his pants. specifically, the painfully visible tent in his pants that had been rightfully covered by his desk. now, you were able to get a clear view of it and, fuck, was it obvious. the sight was unsettling, a realization that you forced yourself to ignore.

he leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “did you enjoy the show you put on today?” he asked, his voice low and carrying an edge of challenge. you struggled to maintain composure. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and focused. your gaze danced around the room, avoiding the direction of his gaze.

his expression hardened slightly. without breaking eye contact, he reached for a stapler on his desk and tossed it lightly in front of you. “pick it up for me,” he instructed, his tone carrying a hushed command. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his command. his voice seemed to reverberate through you, causing an involuntary clenching in your thighs. you turned around and bent over to retrieve the stapler, your skirt rising above your hips with the motion. the fabric brushed against your legs as you reached for the stapler, the movement eliciting a sharp intake of breath from namjoon.

as you stood up and placed the stapler back on his desk, you tried to keep your gaze forward. namjoon’s eyes followed you, and you could sense the tension in the air thickening. “come here,” he murmured again, his voice softer but still carrying the same underlying authority. you hesitated, fighting the urge to defy him. but the knowledge that resistance was futile made you comply. you approached him, feeling his gaze on you as you moved closer. when you were within arm’s reach, he reached out and drew you gently into his lap, his grip firm yet careful.

you could feel it, the clothed tent in his pants pressing into the bare flesh of your thigh, it sent goosebumps all arouns your skin. his lips brushed against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “are you happy knowing that the boys are getting off to this ass of yours?” he asked, his voice a dark purr against your skin. you tried to muster a response, a smirk curling on your lips as you said, “yeah, the boys are real nice to me.” the words felt hollow, a weak attempt to mask your discomfort.

namjoon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. his hand pressed against you, and you could feel the firmness of his body beneath you. “you don’t need them,” he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, more possessive tone. “you need a man.” your breath caught in your throat, the situation spiraling beyond your control.

his hand slid up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently through your shirt. the fabric was thin, offering no real barrier to his touch. your nipples tightened, and you gasped. “is this what you want?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the peak. “to be manhandled by some immature college boys?” his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his. his lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, one that was as much about power as it was passion. your body responded instinctively, arching into him. his tongue pushed into your mouth, and you could taste the mint from his gum, a stark contrast to the earthy scent of his cologne.

his hand moved from your neck to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to expose your bare skin. his teeth grazed your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you panting. “now, let’s see how wet you get when you’re being punished by your professor,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. before you could protest, his hand slid down to cup your sex through your panties, his fingers moving in slow circles. his touch was deliberate, almost cruel in its precision. the fabric of your panties was drenched, and you could feel the heat of your arousal spreading. “you’re so fucking dirty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “gonna pay for teasing me like that.”

his hand withdrew, and before you could react, his palm connected with your ass in a sharp spank. the sting of pain shot through you, but instead of anger, you felt a pulse of desire. the room around you spun, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “is that what you wanted?” he asked, his voice mocking. “to be used like this?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was answer enough. namjoon chuckled again, his hand moving to your other cheek. this time, the spank was harder, and the sound echoed through the empty classroom. you gasped, your legs trembling, but your pussy clenched around his fingers. “yes, professor,” you murmured, the words slipping out despite your attempt to remain defiant.

his hand slid into your panties, his fingers pushing inside you without preamble. you were so wet, so ready, and his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. his thumb circled your clit, and you moaned, unable to hold back. “that’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and encouraging. “tell me how much you like it when i spank you, and maybe i’ll let you cum on my dick.”

his other hand moved to the zipper of his pants, freeing his thick, hard cock. it sprang out, and you couldn’t help but stare at it, the size of it both terrifying and exhilarating. “you want this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a gruff challenge. “you wanna be fucked by your professor, right here, where everyone can see?”

you nodded, unable to speak, your body betraying your every thought. namjoon leaned back in his chair, pulling you onto his desk. the cold wood was a shock against your skin, but the heat of his body washed over you as he stepped closer. his pants fell to the floor, and he positioned himself between your legs. “beg for it,” he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. your voice was shaky as you whispered, “please, professor kim, fuck me.” the words were barely out of your mouth when he pushed into you, filling you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your vision swim. his hips began to move, a steady, punishing rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the desk for dear life.

each thrust was accompanied by a smack on your ass, the sting mixing with the ache in your pussy. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice harsh with need. “no one else gets to see you like this, no one else gets to touch you like this.” his words were a blend of assertion and question, and you nodded, your eyes glazed with lust. your silence happened to be a grave mistake, and you realized it the minute he delivered another harsh slap to your ass.

“use your fucking words,” he snarled in your ear, hips pressed against your flesh. you could only whimper, his balls pressed against your soaking slit. but he didn't move, he was gonna make you work for it. “what happens to bad girls?” you gritted your teeth and forced out a whisper, “they get punished, professor kim.”

his hand squeezed your ass hard before delivering another spank, the sting turning into a warm buzz that spread through your body. he chuckled darkly, pleased with your response. “that’s right,” he said, his voice gruff and animalistic. “and what happens when bad girls get punished?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. “they get fucked, professor kim.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. namjoon’s cock slammed into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin punctuating the silence of the classroom. he fucked you hard and fast, his hips pistoning against you with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. your legs were shaking, and your knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk, but you didn’t care. you were lost in the feeling of him inside you, claiming you in a way that no one else ever had.

his hand moved from your ass to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it in a grip that was tight but not painful. he squeezed slightly, the pressure sending a jolt of arousal through you. his eyes bore into yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the need to dominate and control. “you’re mine, aren’t you?” he said, his voice a low growl.

you nodded, unable to form words. your breath was coming in ragged gasps, and your pussy was clenching around his cock, begging for release. another spank, another squeeze of your neck, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax. “say it,” he demanded, his voice harsh. “say you’re mine, and i’ll let you cum.”

“i’m yours, professor kim,” you choked out, the words a desperate plea.

his grip tightened, and he slammed into you one last time, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. you screamed as you came, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. namjoon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of triumph and possessiveness. he waited, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure before he began to move again, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic. you could feel his release building, his cock swelling inside you. he was close, and the thought of him filling you up with his cum made your pussy clench even tighter. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “i’m gonna fill you up, fuck. i’m gonna mark you as mine.”

you could feel your own orgasm building again, a second wave crashing into you as his words sent a fresh surge of arousal through your body. he leaned over, his teeth scraping along your neck as he reached down to pinch your clit. the combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and you came again, your body shaking violently. he grunted, his hips jerking as he released deep inside you. he held you there, his cock buried to the hilt, his grip on your neck unyielding. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possession. “no one else will ever make you feel like this again.”

you couldn’t argue with him, not when his cum was still pulsing inside you, not when his scent was all over your body. you were his, and as much as you hated to admit it, the thought thrilled you. his hand moved from your neck to your hair, his grip gentle as he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the remnants of your orgasm, and you kissed him back with a passion that matched his own.

the room was spinning, and your heart was racing, but all you could think about was how much you wanted this to never end. how much you wanted to be claimed by him, over and over again. finally, he pulled away, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room. he tucked himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable. “now, get out of here before someone sees you like this,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.

you nodded, your legs unsteady as you slid off the desk. your panties were a ruined mess, so you left them where they lay. your skirt was hiked up around your waist, and your shirt was askew, but you didn’t bother to fix it. you could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a sticky reminder of what had just happened. you stumbled out of the classroom, the door clicking shut behind you. the hallway was empty, the only sound the echo of your heels against the tiles. your mind was racing, trying to process the intensity of what had just occurred. you hadn’t meant for it to go that far, but the power dynamics had overtaken you both.

as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, his hand on your neck, his cock inside you. your body was still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure, and the sting of his spanks lingered, a sweet reminder of his dominance. once inside the stall, you leaned against the cool metal, trying to catch your breath. your pussy was sore, but the ache was a delicious one, a reminder of his brutal possession. you cleaned up as best as you could, trying to erase the evidence of your transgression. when you stepped out, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

you checked the mirror, fixing your makeup and smoothing your hair. your eyes were wild, your cheeks flushed. you really looked like you’d just been fucked by your professor, and that thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. you left the bathroom, heading to your next class, your mind racing with thoughts of namjoon. what had just happened between you? was it a one-time thing, or was this the start of something darker, something more intense? you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his voice, his touch, his cock. the way he’d claimed you, the way you’d begged for it. it was wrong, so wrong, but you craved it.

the rest of the day was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the illicit encounter. when you saw him in the hallways, his eyes would briefly meet yours, a smoldering heat passing between you that no one else could see. the tension was palpable, a silent promise of more to come. by the time you reached the evening, you were on edge, desperate for a release that only he could provide. you knew you had to see him again, to find out where this was going, to let him take you apart and put you back together in whatever twisted way he saw fit.

the next day, namjoon was crueler than ever. the moment you walked into the classroom, you felt the shift in his demeanor, an icy coldness that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes seemed to follow your every move, sharp and unforgiving, as if waiting for you to slip up.

“miss (l/n),” he drawled, barely five minutes into the lecture, “do you even know what the word ‘competence’ means? because, frankly, i’m starting to doubt it.” his words were laced with venom, each syllable landing like a physical blow. you felt your heart sink, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck as all eyes turned to you. your mouth opened to respond, but the words caught in your throat, your voice betraying you in the moment you needed it most.

“answer me,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “i do,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was clear that your confidence had shattered.

he scoffed, a cold, mocking sound that made you flinch. “then perhaps you should start showing it. this is a university, not a daycare. i expect more from my students.” the classroom was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. you could feel the stares of your classmates, could hear the unspoken judgment in the air, and it made your stomach churn. namjoon’s relentless criticism continued throughout the class, his every word designed to tear you down, to make you feel small and insignificant.

“is that really the best you can do?” he sneered at one point, after you had answered another one of his questions with trembling uncertainty. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the disdain written all over his face. “how disappointing.” your patience was wearing thin, the fragile hold you had on your emotions slipping with each cruel remark. you wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, to ask him why he was being so unbearably harsh. but you couldn’t. the words refused to come, lodged in your throat like a stone.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the class drew to a close. as soon as namjoon dismissed everyone, you gathered your things and bolted from the room, your vision blurred with unshed tears. you could hear the murmur of voices behind you, the curious whispers of your classmates, but you didn’t care. all you wanted was to get away. you didn’t stop until you reached the empty locker room, the door slamming shut behind you with a deafening echo. the second you were alone, the tears you had been holding back spilled over, your body shaking with the force of your sobs.

“how could he be so bipolar?” you choked out between gasping breaths, your voice thick with hurt and confusion. it was as if he had two completely different personalities, one moment kind and almost gentle, the next vicious and unrelenting. it was too much. the sound of approaching footsteps cut through your thoughts, startling you. you quickly wiped at your eyes, trying in vain to compose yourself, but it was too late. the door creaked open, and soobin stepped inside, his expression filled with concern as he saw you huddled on the floor.

“(y/n)?” he called softly, his voice laced with worry. without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to you, crouching down by your side. “what happened? why are you crying?” you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sob. soobin’s face softened, and he reached out to pull you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. “it’s gonna be okay. just breathe.” for a moment, you let yourself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his arms and the softness of his voice soothing your frazzled nerves. but eventually, you pulled back enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

“it’s namjoon, you saw it,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. “he’s just, he’s being so awful, and i don’t understand why.” soobin’s expression darkened at the mention of namjoon, his jaw clenching slightly, but he quickly masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “he’s being an ass,” he agreed, his voice firm with conviction. “you don’t deserve that, you need to stop running to him.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you nodded, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “you’re right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i don’t know how to stop.” his gaze softened, and he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. “you’ll figure it out,” he said quietly, his tone full of quiet confidence. “and until you do, i’ll be here for you.”

a small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the warmth of his words seeping into the cracks that namjoon’s cruelty had left behind. “thank you, soo,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, lost in each other’s eyes. then, before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your lips.

it was so quick, so unexpected, that you barely had time to react before he was pulling back, his eyes wide with panic. “i’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to—” but you didn’t let him finish. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him back. this time, it was slower, deeper, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t made a mistake. when you finally pulled away, you could see the relief in soobin’s eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “you didn’t make a mistake,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with sincerity.

soobin searched your eyes for a moment, looking for confirmation, before his arms tightened around you. the kiss grew more urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting of mint and something uniquely him. your hands roamed over his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you moaned softly, the heat between you growing with every passing second. the locker room was suddenly too small, too confining, and you needed more.

without breaking the kiss, you reached down and began to unbutton his shirt, feeling the smooth fabric give way beneath your trembling fingers. his hands mirrored yours, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. as his shirt fell open, you gasped, taking in the sight of his broad chest, the tattoos that danced across his skin like secrets waiting to be uncovered. you ran your fingers over the ink, tracing the lines as you explored him, and he groaned, his hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt.

you pulled back just long enough to let him lift it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. your bra followed shortly after, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your exposed breasts. without a word, he leaned down and captured one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you arched your back, a gasp escaping your lips. the pleasure was intense, a stark contrast to the pain namjoon’s words had brought you just moments ago. soobin’s touch was gentle, reverent, a stark reminder of the way you deserved to be treated.

his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples as he sucked and bit at them, making you whimper. you could feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. he must have noticed too, because his hand began to drift lower, slipping under your little skirt and finding your panties already drenched for him. you moaned into his mouth, your legs parting slightly to give him better access.

his fingers slid over the fabric, teasing you, making you squirm with need. then, with a wicked grin, he pulled them aside and plunged two fingers into you, making you gasp. his strokes were slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, learning what made you moan, what made your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

his other hand reached up to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had dried on your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of pleasure through your body. “so perfect, so responsive. i want to make you feel good, really good.” and with that, he kissed you again, his tongue delving deep as his fingers picked up the pace, filling you up and stroking that spot inside you that no one else seemed to know existed.

you could feel yourself getting closer, your breath hitching in your chest, your body tightening around his fingers. “soobin,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “yes, baby, come for me,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, and with that, you shattered. your orgasm hit you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air, your legs giving out beneath you. he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you up, his kisses turning gentle and soothing.

as you came down from the high, you became aware of the sound of the locker room door opening and closing, the muffled sounds of someone walking down the hall. soobin’s eyes widened in panic, his hand still buried in your panties, his fingers coated in your arousal. “shit, we can’t get caught,” he hissed, pulling away and hastily buttoning his shirt. you nodded, fumbling to put yourself back together, your heart racing.

you looked around, your eyes landing on a shower stall in the corner, and an idea formed in your mind. “quick, in there,” you urged, pushing him towards it. he looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned, and he grinned, pulling you in after him. the sound of the shower turning on masked the sound of your breathing as you kissed him again, more urgently this time. his hand found its way back to your panties, his touch no longer gentle but demanding, and you could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against your thigh. you reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling the length and thickness of him, making you even more eager. he groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking against your hand.

his own need was clear, and you knew what you had to do. you sank to your knees, pulling his pants down to reveal his erection, standing proud and thick. without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you began to suck. his moans grew louder, his hands tangling in your hair as you worked him with your mouth, eager to bring him the same pleasure he had given you. his taste was new, but familiar in a way that made your stomach flip. you could feel his cock swell even more, and you knew he was close. his grip on your hair tightened, his hips thrusting gently, and you took it as a sign to speed up, to swallow him down deeper. and just as the footsteps grew closer, he came, his release hot and salty on your tongue.

you swallowed, licking him clean as you stood up, your own arousal pulsing between your legs. he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming over your body. “i want you, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want all of you, right here, right now.” and before you could respond, he was lifting you up, setting you on the bench and peeling your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed.

his cock was still hard, and he positioned himself at your entrance, his tip nudging against your wetness. you could feel the size of him, the way he stretched you open even though he hadn't even slid in yet. you desperately tried not to think about namjoon, to focus on the comfort soobin was offering as a friend. his eyes searched yours for consent, and with a nod, you gave it. he pushed in, slow and gentle, filling you completely. you moaned out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before, his girth stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite. he didn't stop, though, continuing to move at a pace that was just right, building the tension until you felt like you might come apart at the seams.

his hands cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the passion in them, the way he was losing himself in the moment, and it made you feel alive, wanted. “you're so wet,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort. “so perfect.”

his words were like a balm to your soul, the praise you had been craving, the gentle touch you hadn't realized you needed. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. “yes,” you murmured, your voice a whisper. “yes, fuck, soo.” his rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing ragged, and you knew he was close. your own orgasm was building, the pressure inside you threatening to burst. “you're gonna cum for me,” he panted, his voice low and commanding. “gonna cum so hard.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you screamed out his name. he followed shortly after, his release hot and powerful, filling you up without any barrier. the feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fear that only added to the intensity of the moment.

as you both came down from the high, panting and trying to catch your breath, you realized what you had done. the comfort sex had turned into something much more intimate, something that would change everything between you. but for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the water from the shower washed away the evidence of your shared secret.

his forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was new to you. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, your chest heaving with each breath. “yes,” you whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i'm okay.”

you didn't know how to explain that it was more than just the physical release that had made you feel better. it was the connection, the understanding, the gentle way he had taken care of you when you felt so broken. you knew that this moment would be something you would cherish, something that would sustain you through the storm that was namjoon's cruelty.

but you also knew that you couldn't keep running to soobin every time namjoon hurt you. you had to find a way to stand on your own two feet, to face the demons that were holding you hostage. but for now, in the warmth of the shower, with soobin's arms around you, you allowed yourself to just be. to feel alive and desired, if only for a little while longer.

you could feel the pulse of his cock still inside you, a strangled moan passing your lips as you felt him grow hard inside your pussy, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of him, so lewd and filthy for your cunt, a smirk playing on his face as he began to tilt his hips upward, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to his eyes. “you really gonna fuck me again?” you practically purred, nails scratching at his chest as his pace began to quicken.

“i have to, you're still dripping for me,” he almost whined, the feeling of your juices drenching his dick just too intense. you pulled him in closer, saving the second blissful sensation of him pulling your cunt apart as he continued to pump his dick into you. you were both unaware of just how loud you were being, as much as you were of the nearby presence, who had been listening to every word with a look of utter anger on his face.

namjoon had been on his way to grab something from his office when he heard the locker room door slam, and the sound of your sobs had drawn him in. he had been torn between leaving and walking in, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. and now, as he heard the sound of soobin's body slapping against yours, as he heard the two of you gasp and moan, his anger grew. he felt like he had been stabbed in the back, the betrayal a cold, sharp pain in his chest.

his hand was clenched into a fist, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from storming in and tearing the two of you apart. instead, he leaned against the wall, listening as soobin whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he praised your body and made you feel good about yourself. the irony of the situation was not lost on him; the one person who had been so cruel to you was now being the one to console you in the most intimate way possible.

his mind raced with thoughts of what he should do, but in the end, he decided to stay put. he would let this play out, let soobin have his moment of victory, and then he would deal with it. but for now, he had to listen to the sound of your pleasure, the sound of what he had wanted to be his, being given to someone else. and it made his blood boil.

the following day, tension hung heavy in the air, a storm brewing in namjoon's chest as he awaited your arrival. the echoes of what he overheard between you and soobin replayed in his mind, each word twisting the knife of jealousy deeper into his heart. the anger was sharp, intense, and the moment you stepped into the classroom, he felt his blood begin to boil.

you entered the room with a sense of calm, your steps measured and your expression serene. it was a visible contrast to the way namjoon’s heart raced and his jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to maintain his composure. as the lesson began, he made it his personal mission to nail you into the ground with questions, to strip away that calm exterior and expose whatever emotions lay beneath. “miss (y/n),” he began, his voice cutting through the classroom like a blade, “perhaps you can explain the concept of friedrich nietzsche's ‘übermensch’ to the class?”

the question was pointed, meant to trip you up, to make you falter. but to his astonishment, you didn’t miss a beat.

“the ‘übermensch’ is a concept in nietzsche’s philosophy that refers to someone who has transcended the limitations of conventional morality and societal norms to create and live by their own values,” you replied, your voice steady, almost indifferent. “it’s a cornerstone of his idea of life-affirmation, where one embraces their existence fully and creates meaning in a world that might otherwise seem meaningless.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t done yet. “and what about the eternal recurrence? how does that concept tie into the idea of the ‘übermensch’?”

“the eternal recurrence is the idea that life, in all its events, could potentially repeat itself infinitely,” you answered, still without hesitation. “for nietzsche, the ‘übermensch’ is someone who could embrace this concept, who would live their life in such a way that they’d be willing to relive it over and over again. it’s about living with such purpose and strength that one would welcome even the most painful experiences.” namjoon’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek ticking as he fired question after question at you, trying to find a chink in your armor. but you got all of them right, each answer delivered with precision and clarity. and what made his blood boil even more was that you never once glanced at him. not even for a second.

it was as if he didn’t exist to you, and that realization twisted his gut into knots. the way you didn’t acknowledge his presence felt like a slap in the face. he could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. but what pushed him closer to the edge was the way you looked at soobin. he noticed it—the way your eyes softened when you glanced at him, the way your lips curved into a genuine smile when you laughed at something he said. the sight made something inside namjoon snap. he could feel the pencil in his hand crack under the pressure of his grip, the wood splintering, but you didn’t even notice.

as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, namjoon watched you closely. everyone else filtered out of the room, but you lingered, packing your things with that same maddening calm. when the last student left, his resolve crumbled. “(y/n),” he called out softly, his voice a mere whisper of the authority it usually held. you paused, glancing up from your bag. “yes, professor kim?”

there was a sting in the formality of your response, a distance that hadn’t been there before. it made his heart constrict painfully. he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “please, stop calling me that,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. you tilted your head slightly, the smallest hint of confusion crossing your features. “but that’s what you asked me to call you,” you replied, your tone even, devoid of the warmth he had once taken for granted.

he felt the sting of his own words being thrown back at him. it was true; he had been the one to demand that distance, to keep you at arm’s length. and now he was paying the price. as you turned to leave, something in him snapped. “i’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. you froze, your hand stilling on the strap of your bag. slowly, you turned back to face him. “sorry for what?”

“for everything,” he said, his voice thick with regret. he hesitated, the weight of his confession pressing down on him, but he knew he had to say it. “i fell for you the minute i saw you, you know? you looked so out of place in the club, and it drew me to you. but when i realized you were my student, it pissed me off. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” your gaze softened, the hard edges of your expression melting away as you looked at him. “how do you think i felt?” you asked, your voice gentle, understanding.

namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i know i’ve been an asshole, (y/n),” he admitted, his voice rough with self-loathing. “but i can’t keep playing this game. it’s tearing me apart.”

you didn’t respond immediately, the silence between you stretching out, heavy with unspoken words. you turned to leave once more, but before you could take another step, namjoon moved. he closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. “please, don’t go,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions.

“namjoon,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. “you have to stop. you’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

“i don’t care,” he murmured, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “i don’t care if it means i get to be with you.”

you stood there, wrapped in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing, one that could cost him everything. but in that moment, all you could think about was the way his heart beat against your back, strong and steady, grounding you in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning out of control. as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you knew the risks, there was a part of you that didn’t want to let go either. the part that had fallen for him too, despite everything, despite the pain and the confusion and the impossibility of it all.

“namjoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible, “what are we gonna do?”

he didn’t have an answer, not yet. all he knew was that he couldn’t let you go. not now. not when he had finally admitted the truth to himself. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the classroom seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a stolen moment that neither of you was ready to end.

✧.*

a/n: this was soo ass but some sweet soul wanted more joon content so i hope they see this and if they don't like it i will def do another one

a little older (더 나이든) — min yoongi (민 윤기)

✧.* 18+

building a life of your own was supposed to be the most important thing, a sacred endeavor carved out of dreams and determination. it was meant to be a testament to resilience, a collection of moments carefully stacked like cards, each one representing a triumph, a choice, a whispered hope. every decision, every relationship, every step forward was like placing a new card on the fragile structure—delicate, yet full of potential. there was an elegance in the construction, a beauty in the precariousness, as each layer rose higher, promising a future that was uniquely yours.

the foundation was always more fragile than it seemed. life, with all its unpredictable twists, was like a breath of wind, capable of unsettling even the sturdiest of foundations. the careful balance, once so meticulously maintained, could be disrupted by a single misstep, a fleeting moment of imbalance. and when it happened—when that one card faltered—it was as if time slowed, the world held its breath, and the house of cards began to tremble. in an instant, everything you had built with such care, such hope, began to collapse. the cards fell, one by one, in a cascading rush of loss. it wasn’t just the physical manifestations of your efforts that crumbled; it was the dreams, the aspirations, the very essence of what you had imagined your life could be. the crash was both silent and deafening, a paradox of destruction that left you standing in the aftermath, surrounded by the scattered remnants of what once was.

in those moments, it became clear that the life you had built, so painstakingly and with such love, was never as invincible as you had believed. it was delicate, ephemeral, a structure of possibilities rather than certainties. and now, with the cards lying in disarray around you, the realization settled in—building a life of your own was not just about the construction, but about the constant balance, the vigilance, the understanding that everything could be lost in a heartbeat. the house of cards was beautiful while it stood, but it was a fragile beauty, one that required more than just ambition to sustain—it demanded a deep awareness of its own impermanence.

the gentle hum of rome surrounded you like a comforting embrace, the city's timeless charm intertwining with the luxurious life you had carefully crafted for yourself. the cobblestone streets underfoot, the scent of freshly brewed espresso wafting through the air, and the vibrant murmur of voices from nearby tables—all were part of the life you had come to know and love. it was a life of indulgence, of quiet moments in quaint coffee shops between photoshoots, where you could savor the richness of your success, the delicate balance of beauty and fame that you had so skillfully maintained.

your phone vibrated softly on the marble tabletop, interrupting your thoughts. the screen flashed with the name of your manager, a reminder of the world that existed just beyond this fleeting moment of peace. you took a slow sip of your coffee before answering, already knowing the conversation that was about to unfold. “why won't you be able to make the shoot in milan?” her voice, usually calm and composed, carried a note of urgency, of disappointment that you could almost feel through the line.

you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the decision you had already made. “i gotta go back to daegu,” you began, choosing your words carefully as you gazed out at the bustling street, the vibrant life that you had temporarily claimed as your own. “i was enjoying some time off between shoots, but i have to go back. my mother called. she wants to get the family together.”

there was a brief pause on the other end of the line, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you. then, your manager exhaled, the disappointment in her voice palpable as she responded. “i'm disappointed. you know how important this shoot is, how much it could mean for your career. but i understand—family comes first.” you ended the call with a simple, “i'll be in touch,” the finality of the words echoing in your mind long after the call had disconnected. the weight of her disappointment hung over you like a shadow, mingling with your own. you were disappointed, too—disappointed that your carefully constructed life, the life you had fought so hard to create, was once again being pulled away by forces you couldn’t control.

the last thing you wanted was to spend a month in daegu, surrounded by your family and whoever else your mother decided to invite into your life. you had built something here, something that was yours alone. the glitz and glamour of the modeling world were more than just a career—they were your escape, your sanctuary from the past you had left behind. the riches, the fame, the adoration of the media—they were all a part of the life you had chosen, a life that felt worlds apart from the one that awaited you back home.

your father had always been supportive, his pride in your achievements a quiet but constant presence in your life. but your mother, your mother was another story. she had never truly understood the life you had built, never missed an opportunity to remind you of the family you had left behind, the obligations she believed you were neglecting. she was too emotional, too needy, always quick to turn to you with her problems, her fears, using you as her therapist when all you wanted was to be her daughter. it was a role you had never wanted, a burden you had never asked for, and one that had driven a deep wedge between the two of you.

as you sat in the coffee shop, the realization settled in with a dull ache—you didn’t want to go back. not now, not ever. the life you had built was there, in those moments of quiet luxury, in the thrill of the spotlight, in the knowledge that you were beautiful and that the world loved you for it. the idea of returning to daegu, to the suffocating expectations of family, was almost unbearable.

and yet, there you were, about to board a plane back to the place you had spent so many years trying to escape. you knew that once you were there, the walls you had so carefully constructed around yourself would start to crumble, brick by brick, as your mother’s words chipped away at the confidence you had so painstakingly built. but for now, you let yourself savor the last of your trip. you let the warmth of the roman sun wash over you, let the taste of rich coffee linger on your tongue, let the sound of the city’s heartbeat fill your ears. you allowed yourself this final moment of peace, a small luxury before the storm that awaited you back home.

the airport was a sea of hurried footsteps and murmured conversations, a place of constant motion and transient connections. the lights overhead were bright, almost glaring, casting a harsh glow on the polished floors and sleek, modern architecture. you walked through the bustling terminal with your head down, the brim of your hat casting a shadow over your face. the hat was slightly too big, the edges brushing against your sunglasses, but it was a necessary discomfort. you knew the hat and shades might draw attention, might make people look twice, but it was a risk you were willing to take. you couldn’t afford to be recognized tonight—not when the weight of the decision to return to daegu was already pressing down on you.

the noise of the terminal was a constant hum in your ears, a backdrop of lives intersecting and parting ways. you moved with purpose, but each step felt heavy, as if the gravity of what awaited you back home was pulling you down. the bustling crowd gave you a sense of anonymity, a comfort in the chaos, but there was always the underlying fear—what if someone recognized you? what if a single glance, a moment of misplaced attention, shattered the fragile anonymity you clung to?

you reached the gate, the final checkpoint before you could slip into the relative safety of the plane. the lady at the gate, dressed in a crisp uniform, greeted you with a professional smile, her eyes scanning you briefly before she spoke. “ticket, please.” you handed it over, your fingers brushing against the smooth paper, and you watched as she glanced at it, her expression unchanged until her eyes fell on your name. the realization dawned in her eyes, a flicker of recognition that quickly blossomed into a wide smile.

her voice dropped to a near whisper, a mix of awe and excitement as she spoke again, her tone more personal now. “are you in first class?” you nodded, a small, polite gesture, before affirming softly, “yes, i am.” her fingers trembled slightly as she checked the ticket, the formalities of her job momentarily forgotten as she glanced back up at you. the admiration in her eyes was unmistakable, a look you had seen a thousand times before, but one that still made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“i’m such a big fan,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “would you mind—?” she trailed off, pulling out a poster she had tucked away—a poster of you, one from a recent campaign, your face smiling back at you with a confidence you didn’t quite feel in this moment. you forced a smile, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you replied, “of course.” you took the pen she offered, your hand moving almost automatically as you signed your name, the signature that had become so familiar to you, yet felt so alien in moments like this. the pen scratched lightly against the glossy paper, the sound almost lost in the noise of the terminal, but to you, it felt deafening. when you finished, you handed the poster back to her, your smile still in place despite the churning in your stomach.

“thank you so much,” she gushed, her voice barely above a whisper now, as if she were afraid to break the spell. “i hope you have a safe flight.” you nodded again, murmuring your thanks as you took your ticket back, slipping it into your bag with hands that felt too heavy, too cumbersome. the brief encounter had left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that only the public eye could make you feel. as you walked away, towards the plane that would take you back to a life you weren’t ready to face, you kept your head low, your hat pulled down just a little further, your sunglasses pressed tightly to your face.

the publicity was suffocating, a constant reminder of the life you had chosen, a life that came with its own set of rules and expectations. there were moments, fleeting but persistent, when all you wanted was a normal life—one where you could walk through an airport without being recognized, where you could board a plane without the weight of fame pressing down on your shoulders. but that life wasn’t yours to live, not anymore. so you kept your shades on, the brim of your hat shielding you from the world as you made your way to the gate, your steps quickening as you neared the entrance to the plane. you handed your ticket to the flight attendant, her smile professional and warm, and without a word, you slipped past her and into the sanctuary of first class. you found your seat and settled in, sinking into the plush leather with a sigh that was more of resignation than relief.

daegu’s air felt different the moment you stepped off the plane. the warm breeze carried with it the scent of familiarity—of home, of memories both cherished and forgotten. you moved through the terminal with a practiced ease, gathering your luggage as if in a trance. the sleek, designer suitcases were a stark contrast to the airport’s simple decor, a reminder of the life you had built away from here.

once you had everything in hand, you made your way out of the airport, your hat still pulled low over your face, your sunglasses firmly in place. the crowds here were less intense, less likely to recognize you, but you weren’t taking any chances. it was better to remain hidden until you were safely out of public view. you stepped out into the open air, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement, and you quickly hailed a cab.

the driver—a man in his mid-fifties with a kind, weathered face—didn’t say much as you slid into the back seat. you gave him the address, and he nodded, pulling away from the curb without a word. the silence was a gift, and you found yourself grateful for it. the drive through daegu’s familiar streets was oddly comforting, the buildings and landscapes bringing back a flood of memories, some pleasant, others less so.

as the car approached your childhood home, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. you tipped the driver a bit extra as a silent thank you for the uninterrupted journey, and he accepted it with a small, appreciative nod. only when you were certain you were out of sight did you finally remove your sunglasses and hat, letting the cool air of the evening touch your face. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping out of the cab.

the sight that greeted you was unexpected—your parents stood in front of the house, their faces alight with joy, and a small group of people you didn’t recognize clustered around them. there was a makeshift cookout in the yard, the smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filling the air. it was a welcome-home celebration, one that should have made you feel warm inside, but instead, it only heightened your unease.

your father was the first to approach, his arms open wide. he was a strong, silent man, not one for overt displays of affection, but in this moment, he wrapped you in a hug that spoke volumes. you allowed yourself to sink into the embrace, feeling a flicker of genuine warmth. when he released you, you noticed your mother standing off to the side, her expression slightly pinched, as if disappointed that she hadn’t been the first to greet you. still, you turned to her with a smile, pulling her into a hug. her embrace was firmer, more scrutinizing, as if she were searching for something. “you’ve gotten thinner,” she remarked, pulling back to look at you, her tone half-critical, half-concerned.

you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, brushing off her comment. “that’s part of my job, mom.”  your father’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he added, “and you’ve gotten prettier, too.” he smiled as he stroked your hair, a gesture that felt both tender and grounding.

“i’ve missed you both,” you said, the words slipping out before you could fully process them. they felt genuine, though, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the comfort of this reunion. but the moment was fleeting, your eyes drifting to the unfamiliar faces in the yard. “who are all these people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and slight irritation—from your voice.

your father gestured towards the group, his tone casual as he began introducing you to each of them. “these are some family friends. they’re only here for the day, but one of them will be staying for the month.” you smiled and nodded politely as each person was introduced, some of them expressing admiration for your work. you’d gotten used to it—meeting people who knew you before you knew them—but it didn’t make the encounters any less awkward.

“who’s the one staying?” you asked your father, trying to mask the apprehension in your voice. he chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “you know him very well.”

you frowned, confusion knitting your brow. “what do you mean by that?” your father didn’t answer directly. instead, he simply gestured to a man walking toward you from the other side of the yard. you turned to look, your breath catching slightly as you took in his appearance. he was handsome, undeniably so, with a soft smile on his lips and a calm, confident way of moving. there was something familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place it.

as he approached, his smile widened. “no, this can’t be (y/n),” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. for a moment, all you could think was how striking he was, and how frustrating it was that you couldn’t remember who he was. your father beamed with pride, his gaze flickering between you and the man. “she’s pretty, isn’t she?” he asked, his voice full of paternal affection.

the man nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “gorgeous,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. there was a pause before he added, “do you remember me?” you searched his face, trying to dig through the layers of your memory, but nothing came to mind. with a reluctant shake of your head, you admitted, “i’m sorry, but no.”

your father laughed, a deep, hearty sound that rumbled through the air. “this is yoongi. he used to come over all the time to take care of you when you were younger and home alone.” your eyes widened in recognition, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. “yoongi?” you echoed, incredulity coloring your voice.

he nodded, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i’ve changed a bit, haven’t i?” you laughed nervously, still processing the transformation before you. “only in the best way,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

yoongi shrugged, the smile on his face turning a bit wry. “that’s what divorce does.” you blinked in surprise, the revelation catching you off guard. “you, you divorced miss jeon?”

he nodded, his expression calm, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “yeah. it was for the best, though.” you shook your head slightly, still reeling from the news. miss jeon had been such a constant presence in your life, always there to help out, to cook meals when your parents were busy. the idea of her and yoongi no longer being together felt strange, almost surreal. sensing your shock, yoongi gave you a reassuring look. “don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “it was the best outcome for both of us.”

you nodded slowly, still absorbing the information. “it’s just hard to believe.” he smiled again, this time a bit more softly. “i know. but it’s good to see you again.” he paused, stepping forward to envelop you in a warm hug, his arms strong and comforting. as he pulled back, he added with a teasing glint in his eye, “and don’t worry—you’ll be seeing a lot more of me for the next month.” you managed a smile in return, though your mind was still spinning with the unexpected turn of events.

yoongi had changed significantly, to your shock. it seemed to make your father chuckle, his amusement evident at your reaction, but it wasn't temporary shock. you found yourself staring at him for a second too long, trying to process how much he had changed. he was handsome, he seemed less stoic than you remembered. he had been taking care of himself, it was evident in the way his skin shined under the sunlight and how his muscles flexed in his shirt that was just, maybe, a little too tight. you had remembered him as skinny, borderline bland, but he took good care of you while he had to. he looked amazing for his age, even though he wasn't too older than you.

his mine had chosen to run wild, too. he was aware that you were no longer the little girl he watched over with his ex-wife. you had changed, blossomed into a woman. he knew it beforehand, when you had started working. as much as you were a global hit, you were a national star just as much, if not more. he had seen the photos, the interviews, the shoots. the first time he saw them, your father had showed them to him with a proud smile on his face that seemed to clash with yoongi's shock. it wasn't negative in the slightest, he simply couldn't believe how bold and beautiful you had gotten. seeing you in person made all the difference, you were even prettier in person.

the hot water cascaded over your skin, the steady stream washing away the lingering tension of the day. you stood under the showerhead, eyes closed, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, relaxing the knots that had formed from the journey and the unexpected reunion. the steam filled the small bathroom, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of heat and humidity. the scent of the lavender-scented body wash mingled with the steam, creating an almost meditative atmosphere. there, in the quiet, steamy space, the world outside felt distant, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be fully present, savoring the solitude.

but as you turned off the water and reached for a towel, your hand met only empty space. panic sparked in your chest as you realized you had forgotten to bring one with you. the heat from the shower quickly dissipated, leaving your skin to prickle with the chill of the air. you glanced around the bathroom, hoping to find a spare towel or anything to cover yourself with, but there was nothing.

resigned, you wrapped your arms around yourself as best as you could, trying to cover your body as you opened the bathroom door just a crack. the house was quiet, the murmur of conversation from the yard barely audible through the walls. it was late, and most of the guests had left. you took a deep breath, assuring yourself that everyone else was either outside or already settled in for the night. the coast was clear. you stepped out into the hallway, your bare feet making no sound on the cool wooden floor. with your hands still clutched to your chest, you hurried towards your room, your steps quick and silent. the soft hum of the house was the only sound accompanying you, and you felt a small sense of relief as you neared the safety of your door.

but as you rounded the corner, your breath caught in your throat. standing in the hallway, just a few feet away, was yoongi. He froze, his eyes wide with surprise as they locked onto yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, the shock of the situation rooting you both in place. yoongi’s gaze traveled down, his eyes widening further as he took in the sight of you—damp, vulnerable, and very much exposed. you saw the moment he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping back up to your face, filled with a mix of apology and something you couldn’t quite place. his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. he seemed to be struggling with himself, as if trying to force his eyes away, but they lingered just a second too long before he finally managed to turn his head, averting his gaze.

your heart pounded in your chest, embarrassment flooding your system as you clutched the clothes in your hands to your body, trying to cover as much of yourself as possible. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “i forgot to bring a towel.” he shook his head quickly, his back still turned to you, his voice strained as he replied, “no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have looked. i didn’t mean to—i wasn’t trying to—” his words trailed off awkwardly, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he gestured vaguely for you to return to the bathroom. “just go back. i won’t look.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. with your heart still racing, you turned on your heel and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. leaning against the cool tile, you let out a shaky breath, your skin tingling from both the chill and the residual heat of the shower. the image of his face, the way he had looked at you, flashed through your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat up in a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

meanwhile, yoongi stood in the hallway, cursing himself silently. he had seen you grow up, watched you transform from the little girl he used to babysit into the stunning woman you were now. but that didn’t give him the right to look at you like that, to let his gaze linger when he knew he should have looked away. you were his friend’s daughter, and he was supposed to be here to support you, not ogle you like some kind of creep. he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel the image of you that was now seared into his mind—the way your wet hair clung to your neck, the water droplets that had trailed down your skin, the way you had looked at him with those wide, startled eyes. he had to have some restraint. he couldn’t afford to lose control, not there, not now.

on the other side of the door, you were having similar thoughts. you couldn’t believe you had been so careless, so oblivious to the possibility that someone might see you. the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, or worse, to leave him with a bad impression of you. you had always respected him, admired him even, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had ruined everything with one careless mistake. as you slowly dressed, your hands still trembling slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect the next few weeks. you would be seeing a lot more of him, and the thought of facing him after what had just happened filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

dinner that evening was quiet, the usual hum of the house interrupted only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain and the soft murmurs of conversation. the long wooden table, covered with a simple white cloth, held the comforting spread of homemade dishes—steamed vegetables, grilled meats, and a bowl of steaming rice, all of which your mother had prepared with care. you had slipped into the kitchen earlier, wordlessly assisting her in setting the table and serving the food. she had smiled at you, her face softening with an expression you hadn’t seen in years. “thank you for helping,” she had said, her voice tinged with a quiet appreciation that made you pause. you had simply nodded in return, trying to ignore the strange twist in your chest.

as you walked into the dining room, you couldn’t help but notice yoongi seated at the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, as if he were silently observing everything around him. you caught his gaze for the briefest moment, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were dark, reflecting the soft light of the room, and when he looked at you, it felt as though he could see right through you. flustered, you quickly looked away, busying yourself with placing the last of the dishes on the table. your mother noticed the faint pink on your cheeks but said nothing, though a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“you look beautiful in that dress,” yoongi said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the comfortable silence. You froze for a moment, the compliment catching you off guard. the white dress was simple, something you had thrown on without much thought, but the way he said it made it feel like a grand gesture.

“yes, it really suits you,” your mother added, her tone bright. she was beaming at you, clearly pleased that someone had noticed. you forced a smile, your hands twisting the fabric of your dress nervously. you could feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and when you finally looked up, he was smiling at you—not just a polite smile, but something warmer, softer, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you tried to smile back, but your lips wobbled with the effort.

you took your seat, feeling his presence beside you like a tangible force, even though he was seated across the table. your father, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, began to ask you about your recent time in italy. “how was it?” he inquired, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

you paused, gathering your thoughts, and then answered, “i indulged in three things in italy—writing, wine, and men.” the words slipped out with a playful lilt, intended to tease, and the room erupted in laughter. your father chuckled, your mother giggled, and even some of the guests offered polite laughs. but yoongi’s reaction was different. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and there was something stiff about the way he forced it onto his face. you caught the change in his expression and quickly looked away, but the image of his tight-lipped smile lingered in your mind. the thought of you—his little princess, as he had once affectionately called you—indulging in men made his stomach churn. he couldn’t reconcile the image of the young girl he had known with the woman sitting before him now.

“did you find a boyfriend?” your mother asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes. the question was laced with expectation, but you shook your head, dismissing the idea. “no, i don’t have time for that,” you replied, waving off the notion with a flick of your hand. the truth was, the thought of settling down, of committing to someone, felt suffocating, especially when your life was a whirlwind of photoshoots and travel. you enjoyed the company, the fleeting connections, but nothing more.

your father nodded thoughtfully and asked about your writing, his voice full of encouragement. “and your writing? how’s that going?” you hesitated for a moment, thinking about the journals and notes you had scribbled away during your time abroad. “i’ve done some dabbling here and there,” you admitted, keeping your tone light. you knew your father was proud of your creativity, always encouraging you to express yourself. but the truth was that the words you had written were a reflection of your darkest thoughts, the sides of yourself you kept hidden from the world. they were pieces of you that you had no intention of sharing.

“you should show us sometime,” he suggested, smiling warmly at you. you nodded, knowing full well that you never would. those words were yours alone, a private sanctuary in a life that was otherwise so public. as dinner wound down, the conversation grew quieter, the energy of the evening mellowing out. the food was nearly finished, and you pushed your plate aside, offering to help your mother clear the table. “i’ll do it,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather the empty plates.

“i’ll help,” yoongi offered, standing up almost immediately, his hands reaching for the dishes as well. you glanced at him, surprised by his sudden eagerness, but you didn’t refuse. together, the two of you worked in silence, clearing the table and bringing the dishes into the kitchen. the room was warm, filled with the lingering smells of the meal, and the only sound was the soft clinking of dishes being stacked.

as you reached for the same plate, your fingers brushed against his. the touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through your system, your breath catching in your throat. you looked up, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. his expression softened, something unreadable in his gaze, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks. you both pulled your hands away quickly, embarrassed by the unintended contact. “sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you focused on the dishes. “no, it’s fine,” yoongi replied, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there. he paused, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply turned away, continuing to clear the table.

the house had quieted down after dinner, the lingering smells of the meal now replaced with the comforting scent of night. you had helped your mother finish up in the kitchen, and after a few more polite exchanges with the guests, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from the long journey. your mother had given you a gentle, knowing smile, and your father had patted your shoulder, telling you to rest well. but even as you ascended the stairs, the house settling into a comfortable stillness, your thoughts were far from calm.

in your room, you began your nightly routine, each action methodical and deliberate, as if going through the motions might settle the unease in your chest. you pulled on a shirt—a soft, oversized one that hung loosely on your frame, the hem brushing against the tops of your thighs. it was one of those shirts that felt like a second skin, comforting in its familiarity. you paired it with a simple set of panties, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. the choice was practical, a blend of comfort and modesty, yet there was something almost intimate about it, a reminder of the solitude of the night.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror, the reflection showing a woman who should have been ready for sleep. but instead, your thoughts were restless, wandering to places you couldn’t quite control. you climbed into bed, the cool sheets welcoming against your warm skin, but the moment your head hit the pillow, you knew sleep would not come easily. there was something tugging at you, an inexplicable pull that you couldn’t ignore. it started as a whisper at the back of your mind, an insistent urge that grew louder with each passing moment. you told yourself it was foolish, that you should simply close your eyes and rest, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became.

before you knew it, you were slipping out of bed, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as you made your way out of your room. the house was dark, save for the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, casting long, pale shadows along the hallway. you moved quietly, the soft rustling of your shirt the only sound as you padded down the corridor, your heart beating steadily in your chest. you paused outside yoongi’s room, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the hall. you could hear him inside, the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet sound of his movements. you knew you shouldn’t be here, that you should turn around and go back to bed, but something kept you rooted to the spot.

you peered through the gap in the door, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you. yoongi was standing by the bed, his back to you, shirtless. his skin was pale, almost glowing in the soft light, his muscles defined yet subtle, the kind of physique that spoke of quiet strength. his shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist, and as he reached for a shirt, you couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps flexed, the smooth lines of his back. you knew it was wrong to look, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drawn to the way the muscles in his back moved as he pulled the shirt over his head.

it was only when he turned around, his eyes locking with yours, that you realized you had been caught. your breath hitched, a wave of heat flooding your face as you stumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, “i didn’t mean to—” but he just smiled, that familiar, soft smile that you had seen countless times before. it was a smile that was both understanding and amused, as if he found your embarrassment endearing rather than intrusive. “it’s alright,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “you don’t have to apologize.”

you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the awkwardness of the situation, but then you found your voice again. “i just wanted to wish you a good night,” you said, your tone earnest, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. his smile widened, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he replied, “good night to you too.” there was a moment of silence, the air between you thick with something unspoken, and then you nodded, offering him a small, shy smile before turning to leave. as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of it sending a shiver down your spine.

when you returned to your room, the sense of restlessness had faded, replaced by a strange, warm feeling that you couldn’t quite explain. you slipped back into bed, pulling the sheets up around you, but this time, your thoughts were quieter, your mind slowly drifting towards sleep. in the room down the hall, yoongi stood for a moment, his mind replaying the brief exchange. he chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you had grown and changed, to him, you were still that sweet, flustered angel—the same girl he had known all those years ago.

yoongi lay in the oppressive stillness of his room, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions. the darkness enveloped him, offering no comfort, only amplifying the storm within. every attempt to find solace was met with the image of you in that absurdly tight white dress, an image that had seared itself into his consciousness with unforgiving clarity.

the sight of you—no longer the innocent child he once knew but a vision of such tantalizing allure—it was no shock when his hand found its way to his clothed dick, a silent admission of the battle he was losing. he began to stroke himself tentatively, the fabric of his boxers a barrier that only served to heighten the anticipation. his mind was a minefield of guilt and desire, each step he took towards release laden with the weight of his transgressions. he knew he should stop, that he should find some semblance of dignity and self-control, but his body was a traitor, demanding release from the prison of his own making.

his strokes grew more deliberate with his boxers gone, the friction increasing as he thought of what it would be like to touch you, to explore the softness of your skin and the heat that he was sure lay beneath. he bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pleasure, his eyes fixed on the door that separated you from his indecent thoughts. the knowledge that you were so close only served to exacerbate his arousal, making his hand move faster and with more urgency.

his breath hitched as he imagined the moment of penetration, his cock pushing into you, feeling the warmth and wetness that was so alien to his usual solitary rituals. his hand was a poor substitute, but in the quiet of the night, it was all he had. the tension grew, a coil tightening in his balls, and he knew he was close. his thoughts grew more fervent, his strokes more frantic, until finally, with a silent groan, he reached climax.

his hand was sticky with his own release, a reminder of his failure to resist temptation. the guilt washed over him like a cold shower, leaving him trembling and ashamed. he knew he should clean up, should move on from this moment of weakness, but instead he lay there, panting and disgraced, the image of you still etched into his mind's eye. the quiet of the night was now a taunting silence, a reminder that he was alone in his depravity.

you awoke to the soft murmur of the morning light filtering through the curtains, its gentle embrace coaxing you from the depths of sleep. as you stretched languidly, you felt a sense of calm that made you smile. rising from your bed, you ribbed your eyes and padded softly down the stairs. the house was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic ticking of a distant clock. it was a serene morning, perfect for easing into the day.

when you reached the kitchen, yoongi was already there, sitting at the table with a distracted air. his posture was rigid, and there was a certain tension in his demeanor that you couldn’t quite place. the moment you entered the room, his eyes flickered up toward you briefly before darting away. despite his efforts to look elsewhere, his gaze betrayed him, lingering far too long on your bare legs, which were still exposed, to his dismay. “good morning,” you said cheerfully, trying to set a light tone for the day. your voice was like a splash of warmth in the chilly air of the kitchen.

yoongi’s response was almost a whisper, a bare acknowledgment of your greeting. “morning.” you moved toward the coffee maker, the comforting routine of preparing breakfast a welcome distraction. “you want some coffee?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “yeah, that’d be great,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude, though it was laced with an awkwardness that made you wonder about his mood.

as you busied yourself with the coffee, you noticed the kitchen was unusually empty. your parents were absent, a fact that piqued your curiosity. “where are my parents?” you inquired, your voice carrying a note of concern. yoongi shifted slightly, as if the question had pulled him from his own thoughts. “they’re out for the day,” he said, his gaze now firmly fixed on the table, avoiding meeting your eyes.

you nodded, accepting his answer without further question. the rhythmic sound of the coffee machine filled the silence as you went about your task. when you reached for the sugar, you bent over to retrieve it from the cabinet. the movement was casual, a natural part of your routine, but you were acutely aware of yoongi’s intense gaze. the breath caught in his throat was audible, a sharp intake of air that seemed to punctuate the otherwise silent kitchen. he watched the way your shirt rose, faltering just above your hips, giving him a view of your thighs pressed together, ass hanging in the air with nothing but a pair of stupidly red panties adorning your skin.

it struck you then that yoongi’s reaction was more than mere surprise. it was as if he was struggling to maintain composure, as though he thought you were doing this deliberately to tease him. but you weren’t aware of any such intent; it was simply the way you moved. you straightened up with the sugar and continued preparing the coffee. when you finally handed him his cup, his eyes met yours for a fleeting moment. despite the lack of makeup, you felt a surge of confidence in his presence. his eyes softened, and there was a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at his lips as he took the cup from you.

he cleared his throat, his voice tentative as he ventured into a new topic. “so, i’ve been meaning to ask about your writing. you seemed hesitant to talk about it last night.” you chuckled softly, the sound light and airy. “my writing is a product of all my worst parts,” you said with a shrug, attempting to downplay its significance.

yoongi’s eyebrows knitted together, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i don’t believe you have any bad parts,” he said earnestly, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the truth. you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “you’d be surprised,” you replied. “there are things that even the closest people don’t see.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease. you felt a familiar sense of safety in his presence, as if no time had passed since the days when you had felt so secure in his company. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the casual conversation, made you feel as though the world outside had paused just for the two of you.

you prepared for a day by the pool with a casual elegance, slipping into a bikini that showcased your figure with a subtle confidence. over it, you draped a sheer cover—a delicate, airy jacket that fluttered with every movement, its only purpose to add a touch of grace rather than offer any real coverage. the fabric was almost ethereal, catching the sunlight with each step you took, giving you an otherworldly aura.

descending the stairs, you made your way back to the living room, where you spotted yoongi. the moment you entered his line of sight, he looked up, and the breath caught in his throat. his eyes widened, a visible shift in his demeanor as he took in the sight of you. his heart seemed to drop, overwhelmed by the sight of you in your swimwear, the sheer cover highlighting your figure in a way that was both mesmerizing and painfully distracting.

with a cheerful smile, you called out to him, “hey, i’m gonna be by the pool. if you need anything, i’ll be around.” he nodded, his response barely audible, as if his mind was struggling to catch up with the reality of the moment. there was a heavy silence between you, filled with unspoken tension, as you turned and made your way outside.

once by the pool, you settled into a lounge chair, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun envelop you. the heat should have been palpable, but your thoughts were consumed by yoongi. the sun’s rays might have been intense, but they barely registered in your consciousness compared to the whirlwind of thoughts about him. your mind drifted, replaying moments with him, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you.

the quiet of the morning was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. you turned your head, squinting against the sunlight to see yoongi emerging from the house. he was shirtless, the warmth of the sun glistening off his skin. in each hand, he carried a glass—one for him and one for you. you couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of him, the way his physique was revealed in the sunlight adding a new layer of intensity to your already tangled feelings.

he reached you and offered one of the glasses with a slight, nervous smile. “i brought you something to drink. vodka lemonade.” you accepted the glass with a grateful smile, the cool drink a welcome relief from the heat. “thank you,” you said, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste.

he sat down beside you, his own drink in hand. there was a hesitant chuckle in his voice as he remarked, “i can’t believe i’m watching you drink. it’s kind of surreal.” you laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “i’m not a little girl anymore,” you said, glancing at him with a playful glint in your eye. “can you believe it?”

yoongi’s laughter was nervous, a strained attempt at casualness. “yeah, i can,” he replied, though the lie was almost tangible in the way he avoided your gaze. oh, if only you had known just how deeply his words conflicted with his inner reality. the poolside atmosphere was serene, the gentle ripples of the water reflecting the sunlight and adding a soothing background to your conversation. you sipped your drink, feeling the cool liquid contrast pleasantly with the warmth of the sun on your skin. yoongi sat close beside you, the space between you charged with an undercurrent of unresolved tension.

the heat of the sun was almost unbearable, and you found yourself shifting restlessly on the lounge chair. the coolness of the vodka lemonade was not enough to quell the growing discomfort you felt. it wasn’t merely the oppressive heat that was troubling you; there was an unsettling awareness that you had developed feelings for yoongi, and it was all too complicated. you knew it was wrong, knew you shouldn’t feel this way, but the truth was undeniable.

rising from the lounge chair, you decided to seek refuge in the kitchen. the cool interior of the house was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. you carried both glasses with you, their contents now barely touching the bottom of the tumblers. as you walked through the house, you could feel the tension in your steps, an eagerness to escape your own thoughts and the weight of your emotions.

once in the kitchen, you set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle of vodka and the jug of lemonade. the motion of pouring the vodka into the lemonade, the swirl of the liquid mixing together, was almost meditative. yet, the comfort of the routine did little to ease the restlessness simmering within you. in an effort to cool off, you discarded your sheer cover, letting it fall onto a nearby chair. the fabric slid off your shoulders and pooled on the seat, leaving you in your bikini once more.

the heat of the kitchen seemed to intensify as you stirred the drink, but it wasn't just the temperature that was making you sweat. you were grappling with the undeniable reality that you had feelings for yoongi—feelings that were supposed to be off-limits. the conflict inside you was almost as unbearable as the heat itself. he was quite literally your father's best friend, you had to keep repeating that to yourself, praying for some sort of voice of reason.

just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps alerted you to yoongi’s presence. you turned to find him standing at the kitchen entrance, his eyes fixed on you. for a moment, time seemed to freeze. your heart leaped in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that had been swirling within you. you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “are you okay?” you asked, the words slipping out with a hint of vulnerability.

his gaze was intense, almost pained as he took a step closer. he shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “how can i be okay?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “with you like this around me, for the next month?” the words hung between you, charged with a tension that neither of you seemed able to escape. Your heart pounded as you processed the implication of his statement. it was clear now—he was feeling the same struggle, the same undeniable pull that you were.

you pressed your lips together, trying to find the right words. “i can’t handle it either,” you admitted quietly, the weight of your own confession settling over you. “but it feels so wrong.” to your surprise, yoongi closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. his hands reached out, gripping your waist with a firmness that was both reassuring and electrifying. his gaze was locked onto yours, filled with a blend of longing and resolve.

without another word, he pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was sudden, a powerful surge of emotion that seemed to silence every other thought in your mind. his touch was both demanding and tender, his lips moving with a desperate intensity that spoke volumes. when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours with an almost anxious urgency. “does it still feel wrong?” he asked, his voice a low, husky murmur.

the question hung in the air, and without thinking, you responded by closing the space between you again. you pressed your lips against his, this time with a fierceness that matched the tumult of your feelings. the kiss was fervent, each movement a declaration of the emotions that had been kept in check for far too long.

his hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body, lingering on your breasts. the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin made you gasp into his mouth. yoongi took advantage of the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. you could feel the hunger in his touch, the need that mirrored your own.

his thumbs grazed your nipples, eliciting a moan from your throat. the sound seemed to drive him wild, and his touch grew more insistent. he pinched and rolled your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. your pussy grew wetter with each touch, and you found yourself grinding against his thigh, seeking relief from the growing ache.

his hands slid down to your waist, then under the fabric of your bikini bottom. with a swift motion, he pulled it aside, exposing your wet, eager pussy to the cool kitchen air. the contrast made you shiver, and you felt his cock harden against your stomach. the reality of what was happening was overwhelming, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the feel of his hands on you, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

you broke the kiss, panting. “right here?” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. yoongi nodded, his eyes dark with lust. “right here, right now,” he confirmed, his voice a gruff whisper. he stepped back, guiding you towards the kitchen counter. “i need to taste you,” he said, his gaze dropping to your pussy.

his words sent a thrill through you, and you eagerly climbed onto the counter. your legs parted, and he stepped between them, his eyes feasting on the sight before him. you watched as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. then, his tongue touched you. the sensation was exquisite, sending shockwaves through your body. you grabbed onto the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you held on for dear life.

his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and probing, as his fingers delved deeper into your pussy. you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening in anticipation. the air was thick with the scent of your arousal, and your moans filled the kitchen. it was all so wrong, but it felt so incredibly right.

his eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire to claim you in every way possible. without a second thought, you leaned back, exposing your throat. “choke me,” you begged, the words slipping out on a breathless whisper. yoongi’s eyes flared with surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. his hand wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel both safe and utterly vulnerable.

his mouth returned to your pussy, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. the feeling of his hand on your throat, the way he controlled your breathing, was intoxicating. your orgasm built, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over you. and when it finally hit, it was like nothing you had ever felt before—intense, all-consuming, and absolutely filthy.

his mouth remained on you, even as you gasped for air, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. “you gonna help me out, too?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “gonna suck my cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do?”

you slid off the counter, your legs wobbly from the intensity of your climax. dropping to your knees, you looked up at him, his cock standing proud and hard before you. without hesitation, you took him in your mouth, the taste of your juices mingling with the salty tang of his skin. his hand found its way to the back of your head, guiding you deeper. “fuck, princess, just like that,” he hissed, his grip tightening. you could feel his cock thicken in your mouth, and the power of the moment was exhilarating. you sucked and licked, eager to please him, to show him how much you wanted this.

his hips began to rock, fucking your mouth with an increasing urgency, his head embracing the back of your throat. you didn't care, you had all the reasons in the world to stop and set boundaries, but even more not too. he pulled at your hair, grunting with his heavy cock splitting your throat open. he looked down at you, your teary eyes and puffy lips, and it only made it worse for him, his cock throbbing in your mouth, but he couldn't cum like that. he needed to feel you, to tear you apart, to ensure that you'd never look for that kind of control from any other boy. nobody but him, he was the perfect pick. you needed somebody just a little bit older.

his cock slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop, and before you could even gasp for air, he turned you around, pressing you against the counter. his hand found its way into your bikini again, two thick fingers plunging into your pussy. you felt yourself stretch around him, your body begging for more. “you're soaked,” he murmured, his voice filled with a dark kind of glee. “you're gonna be the death of me.” you pushed back against his hand, wanting him to go deeper, to fill the ache that had only been heightened by his touch. “please,” you moaned, the word barely coherent as it slipped from your lips. “i need you.”

yoongi stepped closer, his body pressing against your back. “you're gonna get me,” he promised, his voice gruff with desire. he removed his fingers and lined up his cock, pressing the head against your entrance. he hadn't even pushed past your sopping folds yet, and you were already a mess. you felt him enter you, inch by inch, stretching you out. it was painful and perfect all at once, his girth splitting you open, filling you up in a way that made you feel so full, so alive. you bit your lip to stifle a scream as he pushed deeper, until he was fully seated inside you. your pussy clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to never let him go.

his hand returned to your throat, squeezing gently as he began to move. the counter was cold against your stomach, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was the way he filled you, the way his cock slammed into you with each powerful thrust. his other hand snaked around your body, playing with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

his grip tightened on your throat, cutting off your air. you felt the panic rise, but it only made you wetter. “you like that, don't you?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you like being choked while i fuck you?” your eyes rolled back in your head, and you nodded frantically. it was sick, it was twisted, but you didn't care. it felt too good to think about stopping.

his strokes grew faster, more erratic, his breathing ragged in your ear. “i'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. “where do you want it?” you choked out the words, “inside me,” and he growled his approval. with one final, powerful thrust, he released his grip on your throat, and you felt his warmth flood into you. your body convulsed around him, your own orgasm ripping through you with a ferocity that left you trembling.

his cock remained buried inside you as he leaned over, pressing his sweat-slicked chest against your back. “all mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “mine to fuck, to fill up with my cum.” your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop he had to give. the thought of his cum inside you, claiming you, made your core throb with a deep, primal need.

his cock slid out of you, and you felt the emptiness acutely. but before you could protest, he was pushing his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth. “have a taste,” he demanded, and you eagerly complied. the taste was salty and bitter, but it only served to drive you wild. your eyes watered as you sucked on his digits, cleaning them thoroughly.

he pulled away, his fingers tugging your bikini bottom up, the fabric pushing his sticky cum further into your sore cunt. “keep it in,” he ordered, his eyes dark and possessive. “i don't want my cum to spill out of that tight little cunt.” you nodded, standing on shaky legs. he reached out, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to his. “good girl,” he praised, his eyes searching yours.

you stepped away from the counter, the stickiness between your legs a constant reminder of what had just happened. your bikini was askew, and your body was still flushed with arousal. yoongi reached out, gently adjusting your bottoms to cover your swollen pussy. “don't tell anyone,” he whispered, his eyes serious. “this is our little secret.” you nodded, your throat tight with the promise of more to come. the air was thick with the scent of sex, and the kitchen felt different now—like a sacred space where you had both lost and found something in the heat of passion. “i won't,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “but what happens now?”

yoongi leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “now,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “we do this again, and again. until we can't get enough of each other.” his hand slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it possessively. “you're mine, and i have no intention of letting you go.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and fear. you knew this was wrong, knew that it could ruin everything, but the feeling of his cum inside you, his claim on your body, was too tempting to resist. you were in too deep, and you had no intention of climbing out

the hours stretched interminably, the passage of time marked only by the shifting light that filtered through the windows. you found yourself drifting between contemplation and restlessness, your thoughts endlessly circling the intimacy you had shared with yoongi. the weight of the moment, the raw intensity of the sex, seemed to press down on you with an almost unbearable gravity.

you had retreated to your room, seeking solace in its familiar confines. the bed, once a place of comfort, now felt like a vessel of confusion and regret. you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the room around you bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. your mind was a turbulent sea, tossing around memories of the kiss, the touch of his hands on your waist, and the conflicted look in his eyes. the sex, though fleeting, had been a revelation, an unspoken admission of what lay between you, and the enormity of it was daunting.

every time you closed your eyes, his face would appear, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing and anguish. the guilt that gnawed at you was mirrored by his own struggle. you had noticed it earlier when he had walked away from the kitchen, his shoulders slumped and his expression a portrait of internal conflict. it was clear that he was grappling with the same turmoil that had taken root within you.

the silence of the room was occasionally broken by the vibrations of your phone. the pings were a jarring intrusion into your contemplation, each one a reminder of the world outside your cocoon of worry. finally, when you reached for your phone, you found a message from taehyung, a friend whose exuberance was a contrast to the somber mood you were engulfed in. it read, “hey! i heard you’re back in daegu. i’m at the club tonight, and it’s been a while. you should come out and join me.”

the simplicity of taehyung’s invitation, the promise of an evening away from your internal strife, was like a breath of fresh air. it was exactly what you needed to escape the relentless spiral of guilt and self-reproach that had been consuming you. the thought of a night at the club, surrounded by friends and lost in the rhythm of music, was a welcome distraction, a way to momentarily forget the weight of your decisions and the confusion surrounding your feelings for yoongi.

without hesitation, you texted him back, accepting his invitation with a mix of relief and eagerness. the prospect of spending a night out, dancing and socializing, offered a tangible remedy to the unease that had settled so heavily upon you. in the privacy of your room, you stood in front of the mirror, preparing for a night out at the club. you had carefully chosen an outfit that was both stylish and expressive of your current mood—a sleek, black dress with a daring neckline that accentuated your figure, paired with heels that added just the right amount of allure. the dress clung to your curves in a way that felt both confident and liberating, each movement highlighting the grace you carried with you.

you applied your makeup with a meticulous touch, opting for a smoky eye that added a touch of glamour, and a bold lip color that completed the look. each brushstroke was a deliberate effort to transform yourself into someone who could temporarily escape the heaviness of recent days. the final touch was a pair of sparkling earrings that caught the light as you moved, completing your ensemble with a flourish.

as you finished getting ready, you heard the faint sounds of yoongi moving about in his room across the hall. you knew he was there, but the emotional weight of your recent interactions had kept you from directly addressing him. yonight was about reclaiming a sense of normalcy and fun, and the club seemed like the perfect escape. as you prepared to leave, you crossed the hall to grab a quick look at your reflection in the full-length mirror one last time. just as you turned, yoongi’s door opened slightly. he stepped into the hallway, his eyes widening in surprise as they took in the sight of you.

“where are you off to?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity mingled with an undertone of something else—something darker. you flashed him a bright, carefree smile, trying to inject a sense of lightness into the conversation. “taehyung is taking me to a club tonight,” you said, your voice cheerful despite the undercurrent of unease you felt.

his reaction was immediate. a flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a strained smile. “okay,” he replied, his voice barely concealing the tension that simmered beneath his words. “have a good time.” you nodded, feeling a pang of guilt at his subdued reaction, but the promise of a night out with friends was too alluring to ignore. you offered a final smile before turning and walking down the stairs, the click of your heels echoing in the quiet house.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a refreshing contrast to the warm interior. taehyung was waiting by his car, his face lighting up with a friendly grin as he saw you approach. he stepped out of the vehicle, and the two of you exchanged a warm hug. his arms encircled you in a friendly embrace, his laughter ringing out as he playfully commented on how good you looked.

from the window, yoongi watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. he saw the way taehyung looked at you, the way his eyes lingered on you with an admiration that seemed to cut through the night’s darkness. the casual familiarity of your hug, the easy way taehyung interacted with you, ignited a smoldering frustration within yoongi. he clenched his fists, trying to suppress the bubbling anger that rose within him. it wasn’t just the sight of you with someone else—it was the way taehyung’s gaze seemed to hold a mixture of affection and possessiveness that yoongi found almost unbearable. every movement, every gesture, seemed to etch itself into his memory with a burning intensity.

as you and taehyung got into the car and drove away, yoongi’s eyes remained fixed on the scene. the darkness of the night and the dim streetlights cast long shadows, but his thoughts were sharp and clear. the image of taehyung’s hug, the warmth and ease between the two of you, was seared into his mind, adding fuel to the smoldering frustration that had taken root within him.

the club was a pulsating whirl of neon lights and thumping bass, the energy of the crowd vibrating through the floor and into your very bones. the air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume and sweat, and the faint haze of smoke from the fog machines created an almost dreamlike atmosphere. music reverberated through every corner, a relentless beat that drove the rhythm of the night.

you and taehyung arrived to a warm welcome from the crowd, who greeted you with a mix of admiration and excitement. the club’s patrons had clearly heard of your return to daegu, and you were immediately swept up in the buzz of their enthusiasm. as you made your way through the throng of bodies, taehyung by your side, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of flashing lights and lively chatter.

at the bar, you signed another autograph, your signature fluid and practiced as you scrawled your name on a series of glossy photos and memorabilia. taehyung stood beside you, his laughter a comforting sound amid the chaos. “i’ll never get used to this,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. his eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. you chuckled softly, the sound almost lost amidst the cacophony of the club. “neither will i,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. the constant attention, the flashes of cameras, it all felt a bit surreal, a reminder of the world you had momentarily stepped away from.

his expression softened as he glanced at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. “why so down?” he asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive. you hesitated for a moment, the weight of your recent experiences heavy on your shoulders. “it’s a long story,” you replied, not willing to delve into the complexities of your emotions right now.

his eyes showed a glimmer of understanding, and he didn’t press further. instead, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “well, don’t let it ruin tonight. you’re here to have fun, remember? just let go and enjoy yourself for once.” his encouragement was a lifeline, and you took it to heart. you smiled at him, gratitude mingling with the resolve to let the night’s energy lift you from your thoughts. “okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “let’s do this.”

the two of you moved towards the dance floor, the pulsating rhythm of the music beckoning you closer. as you stepped onto the floor, the crowd seemed to part and then close around you, a living sea of people moving in sync with the beat. he slipped into the rhythm effortlessly, his movements fluid and confident. you followed his lead, allowing the music to wash over you and carry away the remnants of your lingering worries.

the lights above shifted in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting dynamic patterns across the dance floor. you lost yourself in the beat, your body swaying and twisting in time with the music. the beats were relentless, and as you danced, you felt the strain of the day’s emotions slowly dissolve, replaced by the exhilaration of the moment. the music seemed to resonate with something deep inside you, a reminder of the joy and freedom that had once been so familiar.

you occasionally glanced at taehyung, who was clearly having a blast. his infectious energy was a bright spot in the evening, and his carefree dancing seemed to pull you further into the night’s festivities. every now and then, he would catch your eye and flash a grin, as if to say, “see? isn’t this fun?”

as the night wore on, you took a break from dancing to grab a drink. the bar was bustling with activity, and the bartender quickly mixed a vibrant cocktail that was both refreshing and potent. you sipped the drink, feeling its coolness slide down your throat, and let the alcohol take the edge off your remaining anxieties. the conversation around you was a pleasant hum, and you found yourself engaging in light, cheerful banter with a few fellow partygoers.

every once in a while, you would catch sight of taehyung making his way through the crowd, often surrounded by a small group of admirers. his laughter and charisma were magnetic, drawing people in and creating an atmosphere of shared joy. you were grateful for his presence, his ability to make the night feel lighter and more enjoyable.

the night continued in a blur of music, dancing, and shared moments of joy. you felt a renewed sense of connection with taehyung and the people around you, a reminder that even amidst personal turmoil, there was still space for fun and camaraderie. as the hours passed and the club’s lights began to dim, signaling the approach of closing time, you felt a sense of contentment.

stepping outside into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, savoring the contrast between the heated club and the refreshing outside air. he stood beside you, his expression one of satisfaction and camaraderie. “see? that wasn’t so bad,” he said, nudging you playfully. you smiled, feeling a genuine sense of relief. “thanks for getting me out tonight,” you said. “i needed this.”

his grin widened. “anytime. let’s just make sure you don’t stay cooped up forever. there’s a lot more fun to be had.” as you both made your way to the car, the night felt lighter, and the burdens of the past few days seemed a little more manageable. the club had provided the distraction you needed, and as you drove away with taehyung, you allowed yourself to savor the fleeting moments of carefree joy that the night had offered.

in the stillness of the living room, the ticking of the clock seemed to echo louder with each passing second. yoongi sat slouched on the sofa, the dim light from the table lamp casting shadows across his face. his fingers fumbled with a can of beer, the metallic crumple of the empty container a testament to his mounting frustration. it was two in the morning, and you still hadn't come home. the silence of the house was oppressive, amplifying his anxiety and gnawing at his thoughts.

had something happened to you? had a stranger taken you for the night? the possibilities raced through his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. the quietness of the house was occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of the refrigerator or the soft rustle of the curtains, but these sounds did little to soothe his growing unease.

he watched the second hand of the clock tick away, each movement a reminder of the time slipping by. his fingers drummed impatiently against his knee, and the empty beer cans scattered on the table beside him were a reminder of how long he’d been waiting. the weight of his concern grew heavier with each passing minute, turning into an almost unbearable pressure.

finally, a sound broke through the silence—the unmistakable click of the front door opening. yoongi’s head snapped up, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and frustration. he watched as you stumbled into the living room, your movements unsteady and your eyes slightly glazed. the sight of you brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger.

you wobbled slightly as you approached him, your gaze softening as you took in his presence. with a tired but genuine smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. “i missed you,” you murmured, your voice thick with the effects of too many martinis. he let out a low chuckle, his amusement tinged with exasperation. “you smell like alcohol,” he observed, his tone more resigned than accusatory.

you frowned slightly and gestured towards the table where the empty beer cans lay. “and you’re no better,” you retorted, a playful edge to your words despite your unsteady stance. he raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “what were you doing at the club for so long?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

you shrugged, your arms still draped around his neck. “having fun,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your voice. he scoffed, a small smile playing on his lips. “with who?” he demanded, his tone edged with a hint of jealousy.

you grinned, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “with taehyung,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue with an affectionate lilt. his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. to your surprise, he reached out and gently lifted you up, placing you onto his lap. the movement was deliberate, his hold firm but gentle as he settled you comfortably. “with taehyung, huh?” he said, his voice low and contemplative as he looked at you.

you nodded shyly, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. “yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his gaze lingered on you, a conflicted mix of emotions evident in his eyes. “you two must be pretty close, huh?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of possessiveness.

you nodded again, feeling the intensity of his stare. “we’re friends,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering effects of the alcohol. his eyes darkened slightly, his frustration evident. “i don’t like that,” he said, his tone firm and resolute.

you tilted your head slightly, leaning into his touch as you pressed closer to him. “why not?” you asked, your voice soft and inquisitive. his hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing gently against your skin. “friends who look at you the way he does,” he said, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. he paused, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued, “make my blood boil.”

your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with the softness of his lips. the sensation was intoxicating, drawing you closer to him. without further hesitation, yoongi closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. the kiss was both urgent and tender, a mixture of the longing and frustration that had been building between you. his arms encircled you, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away.

the kiss deepened, his fingers tangling in your hair as he explored the softness of your lips. it was a moment of pure connection, a release of the emotions that had been pent up for too long. the intensity of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, made you feel as though nothing else mattered in that moment.

his hand slid down to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you onto his lap. the fabric of your black dress was thin, offering little resistance to his touch. you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, a silent declaration of his desire. your breath hitched in your throat as his hand moved higher, cupping your breast through the material. your nipples were already hard, begging for his attention.

without breaking the kiss, yoongi reached down and began to tug at the hem of your dress. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he pulled it up over your head, leaving you in just your lacy black lingerie. the sight of you half-dressed was almost too much for him to handle. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the lace of your panties. as he pulled them down, he caught a glimpse of the cum stain from earlier, a pleasant reminder of what he had done. his eyes flashed with possessive lust as he took in the sight of his dry cum on the fabric. “took it like such a good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

his hands found your hips, guiding you onto his waiting erection. the sensation of skin on skin was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. he was rougher this time, his movements urgent and demanding. with each thrust, he slapped your pussy, the sound echoing in the quiet room. the stinging sensation only served to heighten your arousal, making you moan louder with each hit.

his hands gripped your waist, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you riding him like a wave. the feeling of his cock filling you up was almost too much to bear, but you craved more. your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons in his skin as you leaned back, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

his dirty talk grew more intense, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. “don’t wanna see you with anymore boys,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “they won’t ever get to have you like this.” the words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, your walls tightening around him as you neared climax. his strokes grew more erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he approached his own release. you could feel him swelling inside you, his muscles tensing as he fought to hold back. but you were beyond caring about his control, your own need overwhelming any thought of restraint.

he took sight of the way his cock buried itself in your stomach, the outline evident. it was enoufh to make his dick twitch, he could practically see it happening. finally, with a guttural groan, he let go, filling you with his hot cum. the sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. tears streamed down your face, not from pain, but from the intensity of the pleasure that consumed you. as you collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air, you realized that this was the most alive you had ever felt.

“we need to stop doing this,” you exhaled softly, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. “stop?” he echoed, his voice gruff and surprised.

“it’s complicated enough already,” you murmured, your heart racing from the aftershocks of your climax. his grip on your waist tightened, his cock still pulsing inside you. “i don’t want us to stop,” he said, his voice unyielding. “is it such a crime to want you all to myself?”

his words sent a thrill through you, but also a pang of fear. you knew the consequences of your actions, the web of lies and deceit that would unravel if anyone found out. yet, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the way he made you feel alive and desired in a way no one else ever had. you pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the present, the warmth of his embrace, the scent of your mingled arousal, and the sticky mess between your legs. it was a mess you didn’t want to clean up, a mess that was a testament to your shared passion.

his hands began to move again, stroking your body with a gentle fierceness that made your skin tingle. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you ache for more. his fingers traced the path of his earlier possession, the cum stain on your panties now a wet smear as he slid his digits through it.

you gasped as he brought his hand up to your face, your own cum glistening on his fingers. before you could protest, he brought them to your mouth and slid them in, urging you to taste. the sweet and salty flavor filled your mouth, and you felt a wave of submission wash over you. his other hand found your clit, his thumb flicking and circling the sensitive nub as he began to thrust into you once more. his cock was still hard, the friction of his earlier release only adding to the intensity of the moment.

you couldn’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave in to the sensations. the room spun around you, your body no longer your own as he claimed you over and over again. it was a rough, animalistic fucking that made you feel more alive than you ever had. his slaps grew more forceful, his words more demanding. “say it,” he ordered, his voice harsh in your ear. “say you’re mine, only mine.”

“yoongi,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m yours, only yours.” his pace quickened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his second climax. you could feel his balls tightening, his body coiling like a spring ready to release. with a final, desperate groan, he emptied himself inside you, his cum mixing with your juices.

you collapsed onto him a second time, your body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. the room was still, the only sound the harshness of your breathing and the thundering of your hearts. for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in a sea of passion and desire. but reality would come crashing back soon enough, with the light of day and the harsh truth of your actions. for now, though, you were his, and he was yours, bound by a secret that neither of you could escape.

you sat at your desk, the dim light of your lamp casting a soft glow over the pages of your journal. the room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the pages as you turned them, the only sound breaking the silence of your introspective evening. the journal was your refuge, the place where you poured out your grief and unspoken pain, each word a release of the emotions that had been bottled up for too long.

your pen moved across the page in a hurried scrawl, the ink reflecting the depth of your sorrow. you wrote about the ache of missing your old self, the pressure of expectations unmet, and the weight of a future that seemed increasingly uncertain. tears blurred your vision, making the words on the page dance and waver. each tear that fell onto the paper seemed to absorb the rawness of your emotions, the ink smudging as your sorrow seeped into the pages.

you had shared so much with those sheets of paper, details of your grief that had remained unspoken. it was as if the journal was an extension of your heart, a place where your deepest fears and frustrations could find solace. but tonight, the act of writing felt especially cathartic and painful, the tears falling freely as you bared your soul to the empty pages.

the sound of footsteps from downstairs interrupted your solitude. you closed the journal and wiped your eyes hastily, trying to regain composure as you headed towards the staircase. the air downstairs was cooler, and the distant clinking of dishes and murmurs of conversation signaled that your mother was awake.

as you descended the stairs, you saw her seated at the kitchen table, her gaze directed towards the window. yoongi was in the living room, his presence a silent comfort in the midst of the familial tension. you greeted them quietly, your heart heavy with the emotions that you had tried so hard to contain. your mother looked up as you entered the kitchen, her expression unreadable. “how’s work?” she asked, her tone neutral but carrying a hint of concern. “when do you have to go back?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “i’ll be going back after the month passes,” you replied, forcing a calmness that didn’t match the turmoil inside you. she nodded, but there was a shadow of disapproval in her eyes. “i prayed for your success, you know,” she said. “but i wish you had chosen a different path—one that’s more respectable. you could have been a doctor, a lawyer, someone who makes a real difference. instead, you’re just posing for a camera.”

the words struck you like a physical blow, each syllable a reminder of the gap between your aspirations and her expectations. your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, your heart aching with the weight of her judgment. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the apology feeling inadequate in the face of her disapproval. her gaze softened slightly, but the damage was done. the conversation had laid bare the fact that no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you achieved, your mother’s acceptance was always just out of reach. the realization was a sharp, stinging reminder of the ongoing struggle to reconcile your dreams with her expectations.

without a word, you excused yourself from the room, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on your shoulders. you moved with a sense of urgency towards the bathroom, needing a moment away from the prying eyes and the crushing disappointment. in the bathroom, the cool, sterile light offered little comfort as you shut the door behind you. you leaned against the sink, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the tap, letting the water run until it became a soothing backdrop to your tears. the tears came freely now, each drop a release of the pain you had been holding inside. the harsh brightness of the bathroom seemed to amplify your emotions, every sob echoing in the stillness of the room.

you closed your eyes tightly, letting the tears flow unabated. the mirror reflected your tear-streaked face, the red-rimmed eyes a testament to the depth of your grief. you took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had been stirred up by your mother’s words. the tears were a release, a way of letting go of the pent-up frustration and sadness. as the sobs began to subside, you found solace in the simple act of crying, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your mother’s disapproval and the grief of your own unmet expectations. you knew that the moment of vulnerability was a necessary part of your healing process, a way to confront and process the emotions that had been building up inside you.

yoongi's heart felt heavy with the weight of the earlier conversation. his concern for you had deepened, and he felt an overwhelming urge to understand more about what you were going through. his feet, driven by a mix of worry and compassion, carried him towards your room. the door creaked open slowly, and yoongi stepped into the space that was so intimately yours. the room was bathed in a soft glow from a lamp on your nightstand, its light gently illuminating the walls adorned with photographs. his eyes were immediately drawn to the collection of images, a testament to the life you had lived.

photos of you as a little girl lined one wall, capturing moments of innocence and joy. in some, you were caught in candid laughter, a radiant smile lighting up your face. others showed you at milestones, each image a snapshot of a time before the complexities of adulthood began to weigh heavily on you. yoongi’s chest tightened at the sight, a pang of sorrow stirring in his stomach. it was impossible not to feel the ache of how much you had grown, how far you had come from that wide-eyed child full of dreams.

next to those nostalgic images were more recent photos—of you as you were now, your beauty more striking than ever, yet layered with an undeniable sadness. each photograph seemed to tell a story of its own, a reflection of the woman you had become. his heart ached at the contrast between the vibrant child in the old pictures and the poignant figure in the more recent ones. it was clear that beneath the surface of your radiant exterior lay a deep, unresolved pain.

his gaze was drawn to the desk, where he saw your journal resting atop a pile of neatly stacked papers. he hesitated for a moment, knowing it was a violation of your privacy, but the pull of his concern was stronger. with trembling hands, he opened the journal, its pages warm from the gentle light of the lamp.

the first entry his eyes fell upon was a stark revelation of your inner turmoil, “i want to die, doesn’t everyone?” the words were raw and haunting, a glimpse into the depths of your suffering. yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he read on, his heart breaking with each line. you had written about sleepless nights, about the emptiness that came with a lack of meals, and the guilt you felt for your suffering despite having what many would envy. the words were a vivid portrait of your struggle, painting a picture of the pain you had carried alone.

further along, you wrote about your mother, your conflicted feelings towards her. despite her love, you had felt her disapproval, her preference for a different path for you. the way you described your feelings of inadequacy, the yearning for acceptance, cut deep into yoongi’s heart. each entry was a window into a world of quiet desperation, a reflection of your most private fears and regrets.

as his eyes scanned the entries, he felt a profound sadness. the weight of your words, the anguish you had poured onto the pages, seemed to press down on him with a crushing force. he was lost in the depth of your pain when he heard the softest of voices behind him. “it’s stupid, isn’t it?” he turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, a sad smile on your face, the remnants of tears still visible on your cheeks. his heart ached even more seeing you like that, so vulnerable and exposed. he took a step towards you, his face reflecting a mix of anguish and determination.

“nothing you feel could ever be stupid,” he said gently, his voice laden with sincerity. his hand reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “why didn’t you tell me about this? why didn’t you share any of this with me?” you shrugged, your gaze falling to the floor as if it held the answers you couldn’t articulate. “i always had a feeling i’d never live long,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

yoongi’s breath caught at your words. the notion that you felt such a finality in your existence was more than he could bear. without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug was a physical manifestation of his anguish and his need to offer you comfort. he stiffened as he held you, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. “never say that again,” he whispered fiercely into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “is that really what you want? to leave me alone, to fight it all in silence?”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “i’d give anything to be the little girl you remember,” you admitted between sobs. “i miss her more than anyone.”

his heart broke at your admission. he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own filled with an earnest intensity. “you should be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him. “that little girl would be so proud of you. and no one could be more proud than i am.”

you looked at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity, but all you found was a deep, unwavering conviction. “you really think so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “yes,” he affirmed, his eyes locked onto yours with a warmth that seemed to dispel the shadows of doubt. “she would be proud, but nobody could be as proud as me. you’ve grown into someone incredible, someone who has faced so much and still stands strong.”

in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a sense of comfort and acceptance that had been elusive for so long. his words, filled with genuine admiration and affection, offered a glimmer of hope amid the lingering darkness. you clung to the promise in his voice, the promise that despite everything, you were valued, you were loved, and you were worthy of pride.

✧.*

a/n: a shorter one lol a dabble if u will

roses (장미) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* WC: 11.9K

✧.* SYN: polar opposites were said to attract, but nobody specified when. no matter how beautiful, no matter how enchanting—sometimes, they were just made to repel.

✧.* 16+

roses were meant to be the symbol of love—romance captured in its purest form. their petals, silken and fragile, were light against the fingertips, and their colors, from the softest blush to the deepest crimson, seemed to glow with a kind of inner fire. roses were everything beautiful, everything tender. but to you, they were a lie.

for every rose, no matter how lovely, was laced with thorns. they were subtle, hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for a careless touch to remind you of their presence. they never scarred your fingers on purpose—how could they? the flowers themselves had no say in the sharpness of their defenses. and yet, they always found a way to mar your skin, leaving behind thin lines of pain, tiny rivers of blood mingling with the red of the petals. it was as if the rose took your blood as payment for its beauty, demanding a piece of you in exchange for the admiration it commanded. you couldn't see them as others did. where others saw a token of love, you saw a warning—a reminder that beauty often came with a cost, and that love, no matter how sweet, could hurt just as deeply.

you hated roses. not because they weren't beautiful, but because their beauty was tainted by the inevitability of pain. they were a paradox, a contradiction you could never reconcile. to love them was to accept the wounds they left behind, and you had no desire to be wounded. jungkook, with his warm eyes and gentle smile, knew this about you. he knew it better than anyone.

when you first started dating, he surprised you with a bouquet of red roses, each bloom more perfect than the last. they were vibrant, luxurious, their scent intoxicating in its richness. you smiled when you saw them, because how could you not? they were beautiful, after all, and he had chosen them with you in mind. but beneath your smile, a familiar unease churned. nothing that truly loved you, no matter how beautiful, would never hurt you. you didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want to dampen the joy in his eyes, so you accepted them with as much grace as you could muster. you held them close, careful not to let your fingers brush too harshly against the thorns. you placed them in water, tended to them, watched as their petals unfurled further, revealing their full splendor. yet, no matter how much care you gave them, they remained a symbol of everything you couldn't bring yourself to love.

the roses, with their beauty and their thorns, became a silent metaphor for your fears. they were a constant reminder that love—true, deep love—wasn't without its dangers. that even the most beautiful things could hurt you if you weren't careful. and so, while you couldn't see the beauty in the roses, you saw it in jungkook. you saw it in the way he beamed when he handed them to you, in the tenderness of his voice when he asked if you liked them. you saw the care he took in choosing them, the thoughtfulness behind his actions, and you loved him all the more for it. but the roses themselves? they remained, as ever, a source of quiet torment.

it wasn't until after a few dates that you finally confessed the truth. you remember the moment vividly—the way the words tumbled out of your mouth, hesitant yet firm, as you told him you didn't like roses. you hadn't intended to hurt him, and you could see the brief flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed slightly. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice tinged with regret. his fingers traced the edge of your hand, a silent apology in his touch.

you sighed, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “i didn’t want to disappoint you. you were so thoughtful, i just didn’t have the heart to say it.”

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he’d wronged you in some unforgivable way. “i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay,” you assured him gently, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “i kept every single one.” his eyes softened at your words, and a small, sheepish smile curved his lips. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, squeezing his hand. “i may not love roses, but i love the thought behind them.”

the roses stopped after that day. in their place came something simpler, something that held a different kind of beauty. jungkook began to bring you dandelions, plucked from wherever he could find them, their bright yellow heads bobbing on slender green stems. they were humble, unpretentious, the kind of flower people often overlooked or dismissed as weeds. but to you, they were perfect.

you loved the way they scattered in the wind, carrying with them the weight of a thousand wishes. every time you held one in your hand, you couldn't resist closing your eyes, drawing in a breath, and blowing gently, sending the delicate seeds spiraling into the air. with each breath, you made a wish—small, secret hopes you whispered to the universe, trusting that somehow, some way, they would be heard. jungkook always watched you with a soft smile as you did this, his eyes never leaving your face. “what did you wish for?” he would ask, his voice warm and curious.

but you never told him. you always shook your head, a playful smile on your lips as you teased him with your silence. “i can’t tell you,” you’d say, “or it won’t come true.”

he would laugh, a rich, melodic sound that made your heart feel lighter than air. “one day, you’ll have to tell me,” he’d insist, though there was no urgency in his words—just the quiet patience of someone willing to wait as long as it took.

and maybe, one day, you would tell him. But for now, you kept your wishes close, letting them flutter away with the dandelion seeds, drifting on the breeze like tiny prayers. in truth, you always wished for the same thing—that you could hold on to this moment, to this feeling, forever. that the love you shared with jungkook, so pure and gentle, would last as long as there were dandelions to carry your wishes. you found comfort in the simplicity of the dandelions. there were no thorns, no hidden dangers. they were honest in their imperfection, and in that honesty, you found a kind of beauty that roses could never offer. the dandelions became a symbol of your love—humble, enduring, and free from the pain that had always accompanied the roses.

and every time jungkook brought you one, it felt like a promise—a promise that he understood, that he knew what you needed even before you did. it was a promise that he would never bring you pain, that he would love you in all the ways you needed to be loved, without the thorns, without the scars. you held on to that promise, just as you held on to each dandelion he gave you, treasuring it for what it was—a gift, not just of love, but of understanding. and as the seeds danced away on the wind, you knew that your wishes were safe, carried on the breath of a love that was as gentle and enduring as the flowers themselves.

“here’s your shirt,” you murmured, handing him the neatly folded fabric that felt heavier in your hands than it should have. the weight of finality clung to it, as if the fibers themselves had absorbed the tension between you, the countless unspoken words and unresolved feelings woven into the threads. you had gathered the last of jungkook's things, the remnants of a love that had once filled your home with warmth and light but now seemed to haunt it, like echoes of laughter long gone.

he took the shirt from you without looking up, his fingers brushing yours in a way that used to send a shiver of excitement through you. now, it only brought a dull ache, a reminder of what was slipping away. he had changed so much over the past year. the bright-eyed boy who once looked at you as if you hung the stars had morphed into someone distant, cold. his eyes, once filled with a warmth that made you feel seen, had grown dim, as though the light within him had burned out, leaving nothing but the shadows behind.

jungkook had quickly become the tear in your eye and the tear in your heart, a source of pain that gnawed at you from the inside out. he was no longer the man you fell in love with, but a stranger wearing his skin. you had watched the change happen slowly at first, like a creeping frost on a windowpane, but then it had sped up, and before you knew it, the warmth between you had been replaced by an icy silence. it was a silence that had once been comfortable, a shared space where words weren't needed because the understanding between you was so deep. now, it was a chasm, wide and unbridgeable, filled with all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

the end had come faster than you had anticipated, but perhaps that was how these things always happened. you tried to brace yourself, to prepare for the inevitable, telling yourself over and over that not everything was forever. it was a mantra you repeated to numb the pain, to convince yourself that you could accept it. but how were you supposed to accept losing him when every part of you still clung to the hope that things could be different? that somehow, the man you loved was still in there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and distance?

you watched as he turned away from you, his manner dismissive in that distinctly masculine, emotionally restrained way that cut you deeper than any harsh word ever could. It was as if he had already moved on, as if this—your heartbreak—was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. you knew he felt the weight of it too, that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe, but his silence was a wall, thick and impenetrable, that you couldn’t break through no matter how hard you tried.

he was about to walk out of your life for the last time, and you couldn't let him go without trying, just one more time, to reach him. to make him understand what this meant to you. the words were heavy on your tongue, almost too painful to speak, but you forced them out, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “i wished,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. the words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard to keep going. “i wished for us to be forever.”

the simplicity of the statement hung in the air between you, raw and vulnerable. it was the truth, stripped of all pretense, the most honest thing you had said in a long time. it was the wish you had made countless times, with dandelion seeds drifting on the wind, with every shooting star that crossed the night sky, with every single breath you had taken while lying beside him in the quiet of the night. it was the wish you had carried in your heart since the beginning, even as things began to unravel, even as the distance between you grew.

you saw the slight falter in his step as the words reached him. he stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to you, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. you held your breath, waiting for the sound of his voice, for anything that would tell you he still cared, that he still felt something. but the silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, and you realized with a sinking heart that there was nothing left to say. he let the silence fill the space between you, allowing it to drown out your words, as if by not responding, he could erase them from existence.

the seconds dragged on like hours, the silence suffocating you as you stood there, waiting for a response that would never come. jungkook knew you were behind him, could probably feel the weight of your gaze on his back, but he didn't turn around. he didn't offer you the comfort of his eyes, the soft reassurance of his voice. Instead, he walked back inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty spaces of your heart.

you stared at the closed door, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to cry. not there, not now. you had given him everything—your love, your trust, your dreams of a future together. and now, you had nothing left to give. the door had closed, not just on this chapter of your life, but on the possibility of ever finding solace in his arms again. the silence that followed was no longer comforting. it was deafening, a void that pressed in on you from all sides, reminding you of what you had lost. and in that silence, you knew the truth—you were no longer there. not in his heart, not in his mind. the person you had been, the person who had loved him with every fiber of her being, was gone, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of who you once were.

you forced yourself to leave, to walk away from the door that had once opened so easily for you. each step felt like a struggle, as if the weight of your heartbreak was pulling you down, making it hard to move forward. but you kept going, because you had no other choice. you couldn't stay in that place any longer, surrounded by memories that would only serve to haunt you. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the world felt different—dimmer, less vibrant. It was as if the color had been drained from everything, leaving behind only shades of gray. the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of roses from a nearby garden. you inhaled sharply, the scent stinging your senses like the thorns that had once pierced your skin. and just like those thorns, the memories of your time with jungkook would leave scars—scars that would take time to heal, if they ever did at all.

you walked away, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything, and with each step, you felt the weight of the past slowly lifting from your shoulders. but the pain remained, sharp and aching, a reminder that some wounds run too deep to ever fully heal. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if the wish you had once held so close to your heart had been nothing more than a foolish dream, carried away on the wind like dandelion seeds, never to come true.

when you returned home, the silence greeted you like an unwelcome guest, settling into every corner of the house, amplifying the emptiness that seemed to have grown overnight. the house felt colder, emptier than it ever had before, as though the very walls had absorbed the sorrow that weighed so heavily on your heart. and yet, nothing had changed. the furniture was still in its place, the same pictures hung on the walls, the same sunlight filtered through the windows, casting the same patterns on the floor. everything was as it had been, and yet, it all felt different—foreign, somehow, like you were a stranger in your own home.

you didn’t know why you had expected it to be any different. why had you thought, even for a moment, that the world would stop spinning on its axis just because your heart had been shattered? the absurdity of the thought struck you as both laughable and tragic. your heart was broken, yet the world found a way to keep spinning, indifferent to your pain. the birds still sang outside, the traffic still moved along the streets, and somewhere, people were still laughing, still loving, still living their lives as if nothing had happened. the world carried on, and you were left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been torn apart.

as you moved through the house, your gaze fell on the roses he had given you, still thriving in the crystal vases where you had carefully placed them. they stood proudly, their petals full and vibrant, a stark contrast to the withered dandelions that lay beside them. you had been diligent in changing the water, making sure the roses had everything they needed to flourish. and flourish they did, their beauty almost mocking in its perfection, as if to remind you of the love that had once been so full of promise.

but the dandelions—oh, the dandelions—they had not fared as well. you had taken extra care of them, watering them more frequently than you ever had with any other flowers, desperately trying to keep them alive. they were delicate, fragile things, just like the wishes you had whispered into the wind, and you had wanted them to last, to hold on to their golden beauty for just a little longer. but no matter how much care you gave them, they still found a way to wilt, their once bright yellow heads now drooping, petals shriveled and brown. they had died on you, leaving you with nothing but the memory of the hopes they had carried.

it was a bitter realization—one that struck deep, piercing through the numbness that had settled in your chest. you needed to stop watering dead flowers. the thought echoed in your mind, a painful truth you had been avoiding for far too long. the dandelions were gone, just like the love you had once shared with jungkook, and no amount of water or care could bring them back. it was over, and you had to let go. but letting go felt like an impossibility, like trying to breathe under water—each attempt only filled your lungs with more pain.

your eyes returned to the roses, and you realized just how little had changed. their beauty did not bring you any comfort. instead, it filled you with a deep, aching sense of emptiness. their perfection was a lie, a facade that hid the thorns lying just beneath the surface. thorns that had always been there, even when you hadn’t seen them, ready to pierce through the skin at the slightest touch. they were beautiful, yes, but their beauty came at a cost—one that you had paid dearly.

your heart sank as you reached out for the roses, your hand trembling slightly as you wrapped your fingers around the stems. you felt every prick, the way the thorns dug into the tender flesh of your palm, piercing through the surface with sharp, unyielding precision. the pain should have made you flinch, should have forced you to pull back, but instead, you tightened your grip, welcoming the sensation. it was almost a relief to feel something other than the hollow numbness that had been consuming you.

you watched, detached, as your blood began to seep from the wounds, mingling with the bright red petals, the crimson droplets staining the clear water. it was a sight both grotesque and mesmerizing—your life force mingling with the very thing that had symbolized your love, now tainted and corrupted. and yet, for the first time, it didn’t hurt. the pain was there, yes, but it was distant, as though it belonged to someone else, a stranger who had nothing to do with you.

you loosened your grip, letting the stems slip from your fingers and fall back into the vase. the blood on your hand began to dry, a faint stinging sensation left behind as a reminder of the thorns' touch. but the pain no longer mattered. it was just another sensation in a world that had become a blur of emotions too complex to untangle. you turned away from the flowers, leaving them behind as you walked further into the house, each step echoing in the silence that had settled around you. the rooms felt colder, the air thicker, as if the very atmosphere had shifted, mourning the loss that had taken place within those walls. but there was nothing left to mourn.

you slept. it was easier that way, easier to slip into the quiet oblivion of dreams where reality couldn’t reach you, where the sharp edges of your pain were softened, blurred by the fog of sleep. you slept because every time you woke up, the world was colder, more hostile, and you were too weak to face it. the bed, once shared, now felt like a vast, empty expanse, a void that swallowed you whole. the sheets still carried his scent, faint but there, a cruel reminder of what was lost. so, you buried yourself beneath them, cocooning yourself in a fragile barrier against the world.

every time you woke up, you were confronted with the same brutal truth: he was gone. the realization came slowly, like a wave that started far off in the distance, gaining strength as it approached until it crashed over you, relentless and unforgiving. it would hit you as you blinked yourself awake, in that brief, disorienting moment where you didn’t quite remember where you were. you reached out instinctively, your hand searching the space beside you, but it met only the cool emptiness of the sheets. the ache in your chest deepened, a hollow, gnawing pain that seemed to settle into your very bones.

you felt the urge to call him, to reach out to him, to hear his voice on the other end of the line—steady, warm, reassuring. your fingers would hover over your phone, trembling with the need to dial his number, to send a message, anything to break the silence that pressed down on you. but what was there to say? what could you possibly tell him that hadn’t already been left unspoken? the words died in your throat, choked by the knowledge that it wouldn’t change anything. he was no longer there, and no amount of pleading or wishing would bring him back.

and so, you turned away from the phone, sinking back into the bed, pulling the covers over your head as though you could block out the world itself. sleep became your refuge, your escape from the brutal clarity of consciousness. in sleep, you could forget, if only for a little while. in sleep, the weight of reality lifted, and you drifted into a world where things were as they should be, where he was still there, still yours.

but every time you woke up, the reality would crash back down on you, harder and more unbearable than before. the bed felt colder, the room emptier, and the silence heavier. it was as if the universe itself was conspiring to remind you of what you had lost, what had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, impossible to grasp and hold on to. the disbelief settled into your chest like a stone, heavy and cold. it was easier to cling to that disbelief than to accept the truth, easier to let yourself be carried away by the numbness than to face the searing pain that lay just beneath the surface. you couldn’t believe it had happened, refused to let yourself truly accept that he was gone. had it happened? had you really lost him? the questions circled in your mind, relentless, unanswered, each one twisting the knife a little deeper into your heart.

you were confused, disoriented, lost in a labyrinth of grief that you didn’t know how to navigate. the world outside seemed distant, almost unreal, as though you were floating through it without truly being a part of it. the memories of him lingered like ghosts, haunting every corner of your mind, and you couldn’t tell where the past ended and the present began. everything was a blur, a swirl of emotions too tangled to unravel.

and so, you went back to sleep, because in sleep, the lines between reality and dreams were blurred, and you could still see him, still feel him. in your dreams, he was there, whole and real, his smile warm and bright, his touch gentle. in your dreams, he hadn’t left you, hadn’t walked away, and the world was still as it should be. you clung to those moments, those fleeting glimpses of a world that no longer existed, because they were all you had left. in sleep, the disbelief settled into temporary joy, a fragile, fleeting happiness that only existed in the depths of your mind. you knew it wasn’t real, knew that it would shatter the moment you woke up, but you held on to it anyway, desperate for any scrap of comfort. you would see him in your dreams, and for those precious moments, everything would be okay. you would laugh with him, talk with him, hold him, and it was as if nothing had changed.

but then you would wake up, and the illusion would fade, leaving you more broken than before. the bed would feel colder, the room quieter, the silence more suffocating. and you would lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself to get up, to face the day, but the weight of your denial would pull you back under. so you would close your eyes again, praying for sleep to take you, to pull you back into that world where he still existed, where you could pretend, if only for a little while, that everything was still the same. and so, you slept. and slept. and slept. because it was easier than facing the reality of a world without him.

jungkook shut down. it wasn’t something he consciously decided to do, but rather an instinctual retreat into himself, like a wounded animal seeking shelter in the darkest corner of the forest. his emotions were a storm that threatened to tear him apart, so he did the only thing he knew how—he numbed himself. he buried the pain deep, far beneath the surface, where he hoped it would never see the light of day.

his days became a monotonous blur of routine. he went through the motions, each one devoid of the color and warmth that had once defined his life. there was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth that never seemed to go away, a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in his heart. he woke up, dressed himself, and headed to the gym, as if the physical exertion could somehow drown out the chaos in his mind.

the gym became a sanctuary, the one place where he could lose himself in the rhythmic clanging of weights and the steady thump of his heartbeat in his ears. he lifted, the strain on his muscles a welcome distraction from the thoughts that threatened to consume him. he ran, his feet pounding against the treadmill in a desperate attempt to outrun the memories of you. but no matter how fast or how far he ran, they always threatened to catch up with him, lingering at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent shadow.

he pushed himself harder, ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give out beneath him. he jogged, then walked, then jogged again, anything to keep his body moving, to keep his mind from spiraling into the dark places he feared. the pain in his muscles was a dull, constant ache, but it was nothing compared to the void inside him, the hollow ache that seemed to have settled in his chest.

when he left the gym, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, he found himself wandering aimlessly, as if searching for something—anything—that could fill the emptiness. he went to the market, seeking the comfort of familiarity in the mundane task of picking out fresh fruit. but even there, you haunted him. he would see the watermelons stacked neatly on the shelves, their bright, green rinds a stark contrast to the dullness of his mood, and he would be reminded of how much you loved them. he could almost hear your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how sweet and refreshing they were on a hot summer day. the memory would twist the knife in his chest, and he would force himself to look away, to walk away, leaving the market with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.

nights were the worst. the silence of his apartment was suffocating, the loneliness almost unbearable. he started going to bars with his friends, seeking solace in the mind-numbing effects of alcohol. it was easier that way—easier to drown his sorrows in liquor, to forget, even if it was just for a little while. he would order round after round, paying for everyone, desperate to keep the drinks flowing, to keep the laughter and noise around him as a buffer against the silence that awaited him at home.

his friends would cheer, their voices loud and boisterous, their smiles wide and carefree. he would force himself to smile along with them, to laugh at their jokes, even as he felt the icy tendrils of grief winding tighter around his heart. the alcohol would dull the edges of his pain, make the world seem softer, more bearable, and for a few fleeting hours, he could almost forget. but he knew it wouldn’t last. it never did. he clung to those moments of reprieve, no matter how brief, no matter how hollow they left him feeling afterward. because as long as he could keep the pain at bay, as long as he could pretend, just for a little while, that he wasn’t completely shattered inside, he could survive. he needed those moments to last, needed them to stretch out into the dark hours of the night, to carry him through until the morning light.

but even as he forced himself to keep moving, to keep pushing forward, there was a part of him that knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. the weight of his grief was a constant, oppressive presence, and no amount of physical exertion or alcohol could truly erase it. he was running on borrowed time, and deep down, he feared the day when the numbness would wear off, and he would be left to face the full force of his emotions. so he shut down, closed himself off, and went through the motions, day after day, night after night. because it was easier than feeling, easier than confronting the reality of what he had lost. he couldn’t afford to break down, couldn’t afford to let himself fall apart, because he didn’t know if he would ever be able to put himself back together again.

you couldn’t cling to the false reality you had carefully constructed any longer. the threads holding it together unraveled, leaving you exposed to the raw truth you had desperately tried to ignore. the more you tried to force yourself back into the numb comfort of denial, the more reality clawed its way into your consciousness, demanding to be acknowledged. “why me?” the question echoed in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. you couldn’t understand how this had happened to you, how your life had spiraled into a pit of despair so deep you couldn’t see the bottom. what had you done to deserve this? what crime had you committed that was so terrible, so unforgivable, that you were now being punished in such a cruel and merciless way?

your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of anger and confusion, a storm that raged within you with no outlet, no direction. the more you tried to reason with yourself, the more frustrated you became. who could you blame for this? was it your fault? his? the universe’s? the questions tormented you, gnawing at your sanity, and with every passing minute, the fury inside you grew stronger, more uncontrollable.

there was nobody to lash out at, nobody to direct your anger toward. you were alone, left to wrestle with the seething emotions that had taken up residence in your heart. and every time your gaze fell upon the roses, still standing tall in their vase, they seemed to mock you, their vibrant beauty a contrast to the darkness that had settled over your life. they thrived, even as everything else around you withered away. their presence was a constant reminder of the love that had once been and the pain that remained. you had every right to hate them.

your hands trembled as you reached for the television remote, the plastic cool and unyielding against your skin. without thinking, you hurled it across the room, your vision blurring with the force of your anger. the vase shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass, scattering across the floor in a sparkling array of destruction. but the roses—those damned roses—remained intact, their petals untouched, as if the chaos around them couldn’t reach their perfection.

you stared at the mess you had made, your chest heaving with ragged breaths, but there were no tears left to shed. the sadness that had once consumed you had been swallowed up by a burning rage, a fire that seemed to scorch everything in its path. how could he do this to you? how could he walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense? the injustice of it all fueled the inferno in your heart, and you found yourself consumed by a single, overpowering desire: revenge. you wanted him to suffer, to feel the guilt that you believed should be eating away at him every second of every day. you wanted him to see you, to be reminded of everything he had thrown away, and you wanted him to beg for your forgiveness. if you couldn’t have peace, then you would have the satisfaction of knowing that he didn’t either.

with newfound resolve, you began to ready yourself. you meticulously prepared, every brush of makeup, every stroke of mascara, a declaration of war against the version of yourself that had crumbled in the wake of heartbreak. you refused to be the victim any longer. you would go out, find the pieces of yourself that still remained, and piece them together into something new—something that would draw his eyes back to you and make him realize what he had lost. you chose the bar carefully, the one where you knew he was a regular, where the chances of seeing him were high. as you slipped into a dress that clung to your figure, accentuating every curve, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. but the woman who looked back at you was a stranger—her eyes were sharp, glittering with the fury that had replaced every other emotion. the void was gone, buried beneath layers of anger and the determination to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

your heart hammered in your chest, a drumbeat of anticipation, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when you saw him. would he recognize you? would he see the fire in your eyes and understand that it was his doing? or would he turn away, indifferent to the transformation you had undergone? as you made your way to the door, your heels clicking against the floor, you clung to the hope that he would be there, that he would see you and fall to his knees in regret. but even as you tried to convince yourself that this was the outcome you wanted, a small, uncertain voice whispered in the back of your mind, asking if this was truly who you had become—someone who thrived on anger and revenge, who found solace in the idea of another’s suffering.

but you pushed that voice aside, determined to see this through. the fury in your veins was the only thing that felt real anymore, the only thing that kept you going. and so, you walked out the door, ready to confront the man who had once been your everything, even if it meant losing the last remnants of yourself in the process.

jungkook’s world had narrowed to a single point of focus—the relentless, unyielding ache inside him that refused to be named or tamed. it simmered beneath his skin, a beast with no outlet, coiled and ready to strike. the gym had become his sanctuary, a place where he could pound his fists into the heavy bag until his knuckles were raw and bleeding, until the sharp pain in his hands was all that existed in his mind. but even that wasn’t enough.

he hit the bag harder, his bare fists connecting with brutal force, over and over again. the sting of torn skin, the dull throb in his bones—none of it registered. all he knew was the rhythmic, punishing impact of his fists against the leather, the way his breath came in ragged gasps, the way his blood seemed to boil beneath the surface. he didn’t care that his knuckles were split, didn’t notice the way his sweat dripped off him in steady streams, matting his hair to his forehead and soaking through his clothes. he was beyond caring, beyond feeling anything other than the rage that consumed him.

he didn’t realize how loud the sound of his fists smashing into the bag had become, didn’t notice the way other gym-goers had started to watch, their eyes widening at the intensity of his aggression. they stared, some concerned, others keeping their distance, wary of the energy radiating off him in waves. but jungkook was oblivious, his focus entirely on the bag in front of him, as if it held all the answers to the chaos in his mind.

his thoughts were a tangled mess, a storm that raged without end. why was this happening to him? what had he done to deserve this? he needed answers, needed someone to blame, but the more he searched for a reason, the more elusive it became. the frustration gnawed at him, clawing at the inside of his chest until he felt like he might explode. he couldn’t make sense of the turmoil inside him, couldn’t find a way to quiet the incessant pounding of his heart or the restless tapping of his feet as he stood there, trying to regain control.

jungkook’s fingers twitched, playing with the edges of his gym towel, twisting it into knots as if the physical action could somehow unravel the knots inside his own head. his heart raced, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence of his mind, a silence that only made him angrier. he hated the quiet, hated the way it left him alone with his thoughts, with the voices that whispered all sorts of things to him, things he didn’t want to hear, things that only made the fury inside him burn hotter.

he needed an escape, a way to release the tension that coiled inside him like a spring wound too tight. but nothing worked—nothing took the edge off the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. he needed to feel something other than this gnawing, hollow rage, needed to drown out the noise in his head, even if only for a little while.

so he did what he always did when the pressure became too much to bear—he turned to the only temporary relief he knew. the bar called to him, a beacon of false hope in the darkness that had become his life. there, among the noise and the laughter, the clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation, he could lose himself, if only for a little while. the alcohol would burn away the edges of his anger, would blur the sharp lines of his thoughts until they were nothing more than a dull ache in the back of his mind. he craved that numbness, the brief respite it offered, even if it never lasted.

as he left the gym, his mind was still running wild, the voices still whispering insidiously, feeding his anger, pushing him to the edge. he could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands still shook slightly from the exertion, the way his heart pounded with unresolved fury. but he pushed it all down, burying it deep inside as he made his way to the bar, seeking out the oblivion he so desperately needed. the world outside seemed indifferent to his turmoil—the sun still shone, people still went about their day, oblivious to the storm that raged within him. and that only made him angrier, made him feel even more isolated, as if he was the only one trapped in this endless cycle of anger and pain. but the bar was waiting, the promise of temporary relief dangling just out of reach, and he latched onto that hope, no matter how fleeting, no matter how false. it was all he had left.

you stepped into the bar with a forced sense of confidence, your heels clicking against the worn wooden floor as you entered. the dim lighting cast shadows over your face, but you convinced yourself that every pair of eyes followed your every move. you had to believe it, even if it wasn’t true. you were determined to be the center of attention, to show the world, and more importantly, to show him what he had let go.

as you approached the bar, you held your head high, the tension in your shoulders disguising the fragility beneath. the bartender caught your eye, and you ordered your drink with a voice that sounded stronger than you felt. the glass was cool in your hand, a momentary relief as you took a sip. the burn of the alcohol was sharp, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

with every sip, the anger that had fueled you began to dissipate, leaving a hollow space in its wake. the bar's noise faded into the background, and your thoughts grew louder, clearer. you began to think—really think—about everything that had happened. the whirlwind of emotions, the moments you thought were forever, and the sudden, jarring end that left you lost.

the more you thought, the more you began to pray. it started as a whisper in your mind, a plea to the universe, to whatever force controlled fate. you begged for a chance to undo the past, to turn back time, to rewrite your story. you wished for him, for the universe to bring him back into your life, for the pain to dissolve and be replaced with the love you once knew.

your thoughts spiraled, one after another, questioning everything. what if you had done something differently? what if you had fought harder, loved him more, or been more forgiving? what if this was all a test, and you were meant to prove that your love was stronger than the pain? you pondered every possibility, every twist of fate that could have led to a different ending. the more you thought, the more desperate your prayers became. you weren’t just asking—you were begging, pleading with whatever power might be listening. you needed him back; you needed him to see you, to realize what he had walked away from. you would do anything, give anything, to have him in your life again.

as you stared into the depths of your glass, the alcohol no longer brought relief. Instead, it amplified the ache in your chest, the void that only he could fill. the world around you faded, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your prayers, and the unbearable longing that consumed you. you wanted to make it clear, to whatever force might be listening, that you would do anything—everything—to have him back. you needed him to know, needed the universe to know, that your love was stronger than the pain, stronger than the anger, and that you were willing to fight for it, no matter the cost.

jungkook walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it. his thoughts were too loud, drowning out the world around him. he replayed every moment with you in his mind, dissecting each word, each touch, each mistake. the pain in his chest was sharp, a constant reminder of what he had lost. he wondered if there was anything he could do to have you back, even for a fleeting moment.

he knew the truth, though. he knew he couldn’t have you the way he used to. he had been selfish, too caught up in his own world, too focused on his own fears. he had pushed you away, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hold onto. you were the opposite of him in so many ways. where he was sharp and jagged, you were soft and warm. where he built walls, you built bridges. you knew how to fulfill wishes, how to bring hope to the hopeless. that was why people were drawn to you, why they loved you.

but he had pushed you away, scared you off with his sharpness, with the very things he thought were protecting him. he often hurt people, unintentionally but inevitably, and it was exactly how he lost you. he hated himself for it, for letting his fears get in the way of something so beautiful. he was beautiful on the outside, and you knew it. but the more he had let you in, the more he found himself hurting you, even if it wasn’t intentional. you had a way of mingling with the night sky, floating in the air in an etherreal way that gave those around you a sense of relief, as if their wishes were being fulfilled, whereas he was nothing of the sort. he was pretty, and with beauty, there was the inevitable pain attached to it.

he needed you, even if it was just for a moment. he needed to see you, to feel the warmth of your presence, to remind himself of what he had once had and lost. his mind raced with thoughts of how he could make it happen, what he could do to have you back, even if it was just for a second. he would give anything to look at you, to see the way you smiled, to remember what it felt like to be loved by you. as he approached the bar, his heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and dread. he hadn’t planned on seeing you here, hadn’t even thought it was possible. but as he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, sitting at the bar, a vision of everything he had lost.

the world seemed to stop for a moment as he took you in. you were beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered, but it wasn’t just your appearance that drew him in. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you seemed to light up the room even when you were sitting there alone. he could see the sadness in your eyes, the way you sipped your drink like it was a lifeline, and his heart ached for you, for the pain he knew he had caused. he wanted to go to you, to say something, anything, but his feet were rooted to the ground. he couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to take that step. what would he say? what could he say that would make any of this better? he had lost his chance, and now all he could do was stand there, watching you, begging the universe for just one more moment.

but the universe was silent, offering him no answers, no solace. all he could do was watch as you sat there, beautiful and sad, and wonder how he had ever let you go. the weight of his regret was crushing, and he knew that no amount of wishing could change what had happened. he had lost you, and now all he could do was live with the pain of that loss. so he stood there, frozen in place, watching you from across the room, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word. he just watched, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would never have you the way he once did, that the only thing he could do now was remember, and regret, and wish for things that could never be.

the neon lights of the city danced in the puddles of rainwater, casting an eerie glow across the deserted streets. it was a night much like any other, except for the quiet ache in your chest that had been lingering for months. the rain had picked up just as you stepped out of the bar, the droplets mingling with the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you saw jungkook standing by the entrance. the silence between you had been deafening, a cruel contrast to the laughter and shared secrets that once filled the air. now, you found yourself walking in the same direction as him, the cold rain a pitiful excuse for the chills that ran down your spine.

his eyes met yours, a silent question hanging in the air. he offered a tentative smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and you felt your heart stumble. without a word, you turned and ducked into the nearest alley, the rain a veil hiding your desperate hope that he’d follow. the seconds stretched out like a tightrope between you, each drop of water echoing in the silence until you heard his footsteps approaching.

he stepped into the alley, the rain soaking his dark hair and tracing lines down his cheeks. he looked at you, his gaze intense and searching, as if trying to read the story etched on your face. you took a deep breath, the scent of wet concrete and rain-soaked asphalt filling your lungs, and closed the distance between you. the rain grew heavier, but the only sound you heard was the thundering of your heart, the universe seemingly holding its breath for what was to come.

jungkook reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed the wet strands of hair from your face. his touch sent a jolt through your body, a reminder of the electricity that had once danced between you. his thumb traced the outline of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. you leaned into his touch, your own hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. it was a silent conversation, a dance of longing and regret that needed no words.

with a soft sigh, you raised your face to his, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. it was a kiss that held the weight of a thousand unsaid i love yous, a silent apology for the time lost and the chances squandered. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the rain continued to pound against the two of you, a cocoon of pain and passion. the alley was a sanctuary for your fleeting reunion, a place where the outside world couldn't intrude.

you both knew it wouldn’t last, that the universe had only granted you this one night to set things right. but for now, you were lost in the warmth of his embrace, the taste of him on your lips, and the feel of his skin against yours. you allowed yourself to believe in the lie that this could change everything, that you could have a second chance. his hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and contour as if trying to burn the memory into his soul. the rain soaked through your clothes, melding you together in a bittersweet symphony of desire and despair.

the night unfolded in a haze of passion, every touch a whispered promise of what could have been. the air grew thick with the scent of rain and the heat of your bodies as you stumbled into his apartment, a silent agreement hanging in the air. the room was dimly lit, the rain now a gentle lullaby against the windows, the only sound the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. you let him lead you to his bed, the softness of the sheets a contrast to the tumultuous storm raging within you.

as you lay together, the storm outside mirroring the one in your hearts, you felt the sting of tears on your cheeks. jungkook kissed them away, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. you didn't speak, didn't dare to break the spell with words that could shatter the illusion. instead, you communicated with touches and sighs, your bodies speaking a language that transcended the limitations of speech. the moments were fleeting, the time slipping away like the rainwater down the drain. you both knew it was just a temporary reprieve from the cold reality that awaited you come morning. yet, as you tangled together, lost in the warmth of his arms, you couldn’t help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe had chosen to tip the scales in your favor tonight.

but even as the thought whispered through your mind, the weight of the truth settled in your chest like a stone. the universe had never played favorites, and it wasn’t about to start now. this was just a brief intermission in the grand play of life, a poignant reminder of the love that once was and could never be again. as dawn approached, you lay there, your hearts racing, your bodies slick with sweat and the scent of each other. the rain had stopped, leaving only the quiet hum of the city waking up around you. jungkook's grip on you tightened, as if he could hold onto the moment forever. but the light grew brighter, and the shadows of doubt began to creep in, painting the walls with the harsh strokes of reality.

you knew it was over, that the universe had collected its debt and the bill was now due. you pulled away from him, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. you dressed in silence, the weight of your clothes feeling heavier than the armor of a thousand warriors. jungkook watched you, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own, his expression a silent plea for you to stay. but you couldn’t. the sun was rising, and with it, the inevitable end to your stolen night. you whispered a goodbye, the finality of the word cutting through the air like a knife. he nodded, understanding in his eyes as you stepped out.

the days stretched out like an endless, monochromatic expanse, each one bleeding into the next with a sense of profound emptiness. the world outside your window seemed to spin on, indifferent to your internal collapse. you found yourself in a state of profound disconnection, where everything once vibrant had faded to gray.

you no longer cried, not because you had run out of tears, but because the depth of your sorrow had become a silent, consuming void. your eyes, once accustomed to weeping, now felt parched and vacant. the tears had dried up, leaving behind a dryness that mirrored the desolation within you. the very act of crying had become a distant memory, a faint echo of the anguish that had once poured forth uncontrollably.

the ache of his absence was now a dull, relentless throb in your chest. you moved through your days with a leaden sense of inertia, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. the bed you once shared with him felt like a vast, hollow expanse. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets cold and uninviting. the warmth of his presence had been replaced by an oppressive chill that seemed to seep into your bones.

you had lost your motivation, the spark that once drove you to engage with the world had flickered and died. the things that used to bring you joy now felt like meaningless rituals. you had no desire to engage with anything—no will to cook, to read, to socialize. the activities that once held meaning now seemed like empty gestures, as though they belonged to a past self you could barely recognize.

every corner of your home seemed to mock you with reminders of his absence. the roses he had given you still stood in their vases, their petals vibrant yet wilting against the muted backdrop of your sorrow. they had become a symbol of your hollow grief, their beauty now tainted by the pain they represented. they, too, had started to wilt. you found yourself unable to touch them, unable to bring yourself to care for them. they were a reminder of what had been lost, and their presence only served to deepen the emptiness.

the moments you had once cherished now felt like fleeting illusions. the memories of his touch, his laughter, his smile—they all seemed like echoes from a distant, unreachable past. they hovered around you, tantalizingly close, yet forever out of reach. the very essence of him had become a temporary fixture in your life, a fleeting warmth that had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. your days blended into a monotonous routine, each one passing in a blur of gray and silence. you moved through your life with an automaton’s grace, performing tasks without passion or enthusiasm. the mirror reflected a face that seemed unfamiliar—hollowed eyes, a wan smile that never quite reached your eyes. the person you saw there was a shadow of who you once were, a shell that had been hollowed out by the weight of your grief.

even as you went through the motions of daily life, your mind was a swirling vortex of despair and disillusionment. you felt disconnected from everything, as though you were observing your own existence from a distance. your body was present, but your spirit seemed to have retreated into a dark, inaccessible corner. the world was a blur of indistinct shapes and sounds, and you struggled to find meaning in anything. in the quiet of your solitude, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that offered no solace. the emptiness was all-consuming, a deep well that seemed to have no bottom. the once vibrant, hopeful person you had been now felt like a distant memory, a ghost of a self that had been irrevocably altered by the loss of him.

jungkook lay in the darkness of his room, the sheets crumpled around him, a silent testament to the upheaval of his emotions. the room was heavy with the scent of you, a lingering fragrance that had become both a balm and a torment. the aroma of you clung to the fabric, a ghostly reminder of a presence now painfully out of reach. he buried his face in the pillow, the soft, familiar scent washing over him like a bittersweet wave, mingling with the dampness of his tears.

his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, each beat a sharp pang of longing and regret. he clung to the pillow, clutching it as if it were a lifeline, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of you. the tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, soaking the fabric beneath him. he sobbed into the pillow, his cries muffled but raw, each sound an expression of his overwhelming grief. he could no longer see clearly through his tears, but the darkness of the room seemed to envelop him, pressing down on him with a suffocating weight. your absence was a gaping void that filled the space around him, amplifying his sense of loneliness. the bed, once a place of comfort and shared warmth, now felt like a desolate expanse where he lay alone, adrift in his sorrow.

desperation clawed at him, driving him to a place where he sought to express his pain in ways that went beyond mere tears. his hands, once gentle and loving, now sought a different outlet for his anguish. with a shuddering breath, he pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled to the wall, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with his movements. his knuckles, still raw from previous attempts to subdue his rage, were now red and bruised, but the pain seemed to offer a distorted sense of relief.

he pounded his fists against the wall, the sound of his blows echoing through the room. each hit was not driven by anger but by a profound sadness that had consumed him entirely. he felt the sting of the impact, the dull ache of his knuckles meeting the unforgiving surface. his punches were more of a plea than a fight—a plea to feel something other than the empty ache in his chest, a desperate attempt to make the void of your absence tangible.

the walls bore the brunt of his sorrow, and the small marks left by his fists seemed to mock his attempts to find solace. the physical pain was a poor substitute for the emotional torment, but it was the only thing he could grasp at in his moments of despair. the act of hurting himself became a ritual of sorts, a way to channel the overwhelming sadness that threatened to drown him.

he collapsed back onto the bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his hands, now throbbing with the aftereffects of his self-inflicted blows, rested limply by his sides. the room was silent save for the soft rustle of the sheets and his uneven breathing. he stared up at the ceiling, the darkness above him a mirror of the darkness within. his mind was a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories. He replayed moments with you over and over, each memory a painful reminder of what had been lost. the scent of you on the sheets, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how close yet how unreachable you were. he wished he could reach out to you, to call you and hear your voice, but the reality of your absence was a constant, unyielding presence in his life.

jungkook’s sorrow had transformed into a deep, gnawing depression that consumed every corner of his existence. he felt hollow, his body moving through the motions of daily life with a mechanical detachment. the days blended into a blur, each one marked by a sense of loss and longing. his emotions were a tumultuous sea, and he struggled to find solid ground amidst the crashing waves. every time he lay down, every time he stared at the empty space beside him, the grief would engulf him anew. the scent of you, the lingering touch of your presence, was both a comfort and a torment. he was caught in a cycle of remembering and mourning, unable to escape the pain that had become a constant companion. the bed, the walls, the silence—everything around him seemed to echo the emptiness of your absence, amplifying his despair.

you had spent days entangled in the suffocating grip of despair, every day a struggle to drag yourself through the motions of life. your home, once filled with the remnants of a love that now felt like a distant dream, had become a place where echoes of your pain reverberated endlessly. but as time wore on, there came a moment—a quiet, insistent moment—when the weight of your sorrow began to lift, if only slightly.

the realization that you had been clinging to a fractured ideal of the past started to seep into your consciousness. you began to accept that what you wished for, what you had yearned for so desperately, was not something that could be willed back into existence. the journey to acceptance was not instantaneous; it was a slow, deliberate process, marked by small victories and subtle shifts in your mindset.

you found solace in the mundane details of daily life. you began to notice the subtle beauty in everyday moments—the way the sunlight filtered through your window, the calming rhythm of your breath as you practiced mindfulness, the comforting hum of routine, and the way the godforsaken roses had finally withered away. slowly, you started to feel a sense of security in these ordinary rituals. they were reminders that life, while changed, continued to offer moments of tranquility and purpose.

as you ventured out into the world, your heart began to open up to new experiences. a first date—a simple, unremarkable event—brought with it a feeling of genuine happiness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. it was a tentative, fragile joy, but it was there nonetheless. you allowed yourself to be present, to savor the laughter and the connection, to let go of the lingering shadows of the past. the date was a pleasant surprise, an unexpected gift of normalcy and hope. as you walked hand-in-hand with your companion, you felt a warmth in your chest that had been absent for too long. the world seemed to expand around you, filled with possibilities rather than regrets. you were starting to live again, to feel alive.

at the end of the evening, as you were handed a bouquet of flowers, your heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. the flowers were beautiful, vibrant red roses, their petals soft and inviting. you accepted them with a genuine smile, letting their delicate fragrance mingle with the newfound joy you were experiencing. the sight of the roses, however, didn’t evoke the visceral reaction they once did. instead, they were simply another part of your reality, no longer a symbol of the pain that once defined your days.

what you didn't realize was that jungkook had been waiting nearby, a bouquet of dandelions clutched in his hands. he had hoped to see you, to offer you something that held meaning for both of you. but as he watched from the shadows, his heart sank when he saw you take the roses with such ease, a gesture that seemed to signify a quiet acceptance of a reality that he himself struggled to embrace.

the sight of you with the roses, when he knew how much you had loved dandelions, was a harsh reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. it was a moment that crystallized the harsh truth he had been avoiding—your life had moved on, had found new sources of happiness and meaning, while he remained anchored in the past. the acceptance he had hoped to find in his own heart seemed elusive, overshadowed by the painful reality of watching you embrace a new chapter without him. jungkook stood there, paralyzed by the sight before him. the dandelions in his hand felt like a cruel joke now, a poignant symbol of what could have been. they were meant to be a token of his love, a way to reconnect with the joy you had once shared. but seeing you with the roses, accepting them so effortlessly, made the dandelions seem insignificant, a mere relic of a bygone era.

in that moment, he faced the unyielding truth of his situation: the reality he had been trying to avoid was indeed cruel and unforgiving. his heart ached with a profound sense of loss, but beneath the pain was a new understanding. acceptance was a bitter pill to swallow, but as he watched you with the roses, he began to grasp its necessity. as you walked away with your bouquet, your happiness palpable, jungkook was left alone with his dandelions and the reality that you had found a way to move forward. the once vivid pain of your absence was now tempered by a melancholic acceptance. it was a realization that, no matter how much he wished things could be different, the world continued to turn, with or without him in your life.

the sky was a somber gray, an oppressive expanse that stretched endlessly above you, mirroring the weight that settled heavily on your heart. you stood there, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands, their vibrant red a definite contrast to the bleak backdrop of the overcast day. the flowers, once symbols of love now transformed into markers of loss, felt heavy and poignant.

you had come to understand something profound in this moment—something that had eluded you for so long. you understood why jungkook had been drawn to these roses, why they had held such a special place in his heart. the roses were undeniably beautiful, their petals velvety and rich, a testament to nature’s ability to create splendor even in the face of hardship. but you also grasped the deeper truth: beauty, as with everything, came at a price. the thorns of the rose were not just physical barriers; they were metaphors for the pain that often accompanied true beauty and love.

as you held the bouquet, you let yourself marvel at the roses’ splendor. each petal was like a delicate brushstroke of crimson on a canvas of green, a fleeting masterpiece of nature. you ran your fingers gently over the petals, feeling their softness, their warmth, and for a moment, you were lost in their beauty. the roses were not just flowers; they were a testament to the complexity of emotions and experiences.

a tear, born from the depths of your sorrow, slipped silently down your cheek. it landed softly on one of the petals, its glistening drop mingling with the rose's vibrant hue. you watched in a kind of mesmerized sadness as the tear traced a slow, shimmering path over the surface of the petal. it was a testament to the pain you felt, yet the flower remained unwavering in its beauty. the tear did not diminish the rose's allure; it merely added to its story, making it all the more poignant.

with careful reverence, you approached jungkook’s grave, the final resting place of the person whose absence had left a void in your life. the roses, now intertwined with your sorrow, seemed to carry a weight that transcended their mere physical presence. you set them gently by his grave, placing them with a tenderness that spoke of your deep, unspoken grief.

the wind stirred, causing the petals to flutter ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the gesture. as you stepped back, you observed the bouquet resting there, a symbol of your enduring affection, and also of your newfound understanding of the delicate balance between beauty and suffering. the roses, despite the tear that marked them, remained beautiful—unblemished in their elegance, a reflection of the love and the pain they represented.

the realization hit you with a cruel clarity: even as the roses symbolized something deeply personal and painful, they also embodied an immutable truth about beauty. it was a truth that jungkook had understood far better than you could have ever realized before. his love for the roses had been an acknowledgment of their dual nature—their ability to captivate and hurt simultaneously.

you stood there, feeling a quiet, aching acceptance. the sky above remained gray, a canvas as muted as the feelings swirling within you. the roses danced in the eind, their thorns seemingly harmless now, their crimson petals vibrant as the wind blew against them. they were beautiful, just as he was. if only they hadn’t withered as quickly as they did. maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have either.

✧.*

a/n: modu uril chyeodabwa

three words (세 마디) – kim taehyung (김 태형)

✧.* WC: 17.1K

✧.* SYN: white lines and white lies, loose ends and fake friends. money used to be the answer to all of your problems, but some problems just can’t be solved with money. some problems just can’t be solved at all.

✧.* 18+

the problems in your world were unlike those that others faced, but that wasn't entirely your fault. your life had always been a carefully curated mess, the kind that looked almost intentional. too many bottles of wine with names you could never quite pronounce, too many hits of something green that seemed to belong more in your hand than in anyone else’s, where it would have looked trashy, almost vulgar. white lines on glass tables and white lies whispered between teeth stained with the residue of indulgence. loose ends frayed in the chaos of your existence, each one tied to another false friend, another empty promise.

you had lived your life this way for as long as you could remember, drifting through the haze of late nights that bled into mornings, pretending that the simplicity you yearned for was just around the next corner, or at the bottom of the next glass. But somewhere along the line, the neat lines of your carefully managed chaos had tangled into something more sinister.

when had it all gotten so complicated? you couldn’t pinpoint the moment when the scales tipped, when the balance between indulgence and destruction tilted beyond repair. what was once a game of excess and appearances had become a reality that you no longer recognized, a world where the choices you made were no longer yours, where the control you once held slipped through your fingers like sand.

you found yourself lost in thought, tracing the thread of chaos back to its origins, trying to pinpoint the moment when everything had lost its rhythm. it was like trying to grasp smoke, the memories slipping through your fingers, elusive yet haunting. you had lived in the center of that storm for so long that it was hard to recall when the clouds had first gathered, but one memory stood out, crystallized in the haze of everything that followed.

it was an evening like so many others, the sky a muted shade of gray, as if even the heavens had grown weary. taehyung had been strolling alongside jungkook, his stride easy and unhurried, a joint dangling carelessly between his fingers. there was a sense of freedom in the way he moved, as if he belonged to the world in a way that you never quite could.

jungkook had been quieter than usual, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. he had scoffed, almost playfully, as taehyung brought the joint to his lips. “you’ve been smoking way too much, dude,” he had said, a hint of concern buried beneath the teasing. but taehyung had only shot him a look, one of those lazy, knowing smirks that always seemed to hide more than they revealed. without a word, he offered the joint to jungkook, his eyes gleaming with a challenge that only they could understand.

of course, he took it. it was a ritual, a shared understanding between them, one that you had never fully grasped. as he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl in his lungs, taehyung had watched him closely, a slight tilt to his head as if he were assessing something. “you look like you could use it,” he had remarked, the words almost too casual, laced with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. there was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to still, before he asked, “what’s on your mind?”

jungkook had sighed, the sound heavy with something unspoken, as he took another hit. he held the smoke in a second longer, as if drawing strength from it, before exhaling slowly and handing the joint back to taehyung. he could almost see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes, the way he wrestled with himself, trying to find the right words. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. “i made a mistake.”

taehyung had scoffed, the sound light and disbelieving. “the golden boy would never,” he had said, the nickname slipping from his tongue with a hint of sarcasm, as if the very idea was preposterous. but jungkook had only shaken his head, his steps faltering slightly as they continued down the street. “it’s really bad this time,” he had admitted, the words carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore.

that was when taehyung stopped, his usual nonchalance replaced by something far more serious. the easygoing smirk faded, replaced by a frown as he studied jungkook’s face, searching for something in his expression that would explain the sudden shift. without hesitation, taehyung had thrown the rest of the joint away, grinding it under his shoe with deliberate force, as if the act could somehow erase the gravity of the moment.

“jungkook,” he had said, his voice steady but laced with an uncharacteristic urgency, “what did you do?”

he had never seen fear in jungkook’s eyes before, not like that. it was raw, unguarded, a glimpse into a part of him that he rarely showed. the memory of that look had stayed with him, long after the moment had passed, seeping into his thoughts whenever you tried to piece together the fragments of his own life. it was there, in that fleeting second, that he realized how far you had all fallen, how deep the chaos had truly run. and yet, even then, none of you had fully understood it. not until it was too late.

the memory of your nineteenth birthday was etched into your mind, a night that had been meticulously planned, every detail tailored to perfection. you had orchestrated the entire event with the enthusiasm of someone who believed they could control the world, if only for one evening. with your best friend by your side and your mother’s credit card in hand, you had ensured that this night would be one to remember.

tzuyu had been eager, her energy contagious as she helped you plan every aspect of the celebration. you had noticed that she had been a bit off lately, her usual spark dimmed by something you couldn’t quite identify, but tonight, she seemed like her old self again. it was a relief to see her that way, smiling and carefree, and you were more than happy to indulge in the illusion that everything was fine.

the club had been your choice, a pulsating heartbeat of music and lights, where the world outside ceased to exist. the two of you had danced until the rhythm became a part of you, your movements in sync with the beat, as if the night itself was a celebration of your existence. the crowd, the noise, the flashing lights—all of it was a backdrop to the bond you shared, the laughter and the whispers that passed between you like secrets. when you finally left, it was with tzuyu by your side, the two of you slipping into the back of the sleek, black limo waiting outside. the city lights blurred into streaks of color as the car pulled away, and you reached for the champagne that had been chilling in the ice bucket. with a grin, you handed it to her, letting her take the honors.

ahe had popped the bottle with a delighted yelp, the sound of it echoing in the enclosed space. your laughter mingled with hers as she poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses, the bubbles rising like a cascade of stars. yhe glasses clinked softly as you raised them, her eyes sparkling with something akin to joy. “we should leave the boys some, too,” you had said, the words casual as you took a sip, the champagne crisp and cold against your tongue.

tzuyu’s head had snapped up at that, her expression shifting, her eyes searching yours. “the boys?” she echoed, the question hanging in the air between you. there was a pause, a slight hesitation before she continued, “taehyung and jungkook?”

you had nodded, the motion so natural, so obvious to you that you didn’t understand why she even questioned it. “yeah,” you replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “would that be a problem?”

her laugh had been nervous, a sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “of course not,” she had answered quickly, almost too quickly, before turning her attention back to the champagne, refilling her glass with a focus that seemed a little too intense. the silence that followed was almost thick, hanging heavy in the air despite the supposed festivities. it was supposed to be a celebratory night, but the atmosphere had shifted, a subtle tension settling between you that hadn’t been there before.

it wasn’t long before the boys arrived, the limo door opening to reveal them stepping inside, their presence altering the dynamic instantly. taehyung slid in first, his eyes taking in the scene with a practiced ease, followed by jungkook, whose demeanor was noticeably subdued. you had immediately reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a gesture that was as much habit as affection. your lips brushed against his cheek in a light kiss, a quiet greeting escaping your lips. “hey, baby.” he had returned the kiss, a brief peck on your cheek, but there was something off about it, a distance in the way he held himself, the way he didn’t say anything. you felt it, that something was missing, the usual warmth, the unspoken connection between you. his silence spoke volumes, filling the space with an unease you couldn’t ignore.

and then your eyes had met taehyung’s, a fleeting moment of eye contact that seemed to last longer than it should have. there was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat, an unsettling feeling that settled deep in your stomach. it was in that moment, in the way his eyes held yours, that you felt it—the weight of something unspoken, something just beyond your grasp, lingering in the air like a shadow. the atmosphere of the night had shifted, the joy and excitement tempered by a sense of unease that you couldn’t shake. whatever it was, you knew it had changed everything.

that night, as the champagne and the clamor of the club swirled together in a haze, you had found yourself slipping beyond the edge of reason. the celebratory atmosphere, once vibrant and intoxicating, had transformed into a foggy blur. the alcohol, your unwitting companion, had blurred the lines of your comprehension, rendering everything around you distant and distorted.

taehyung had been the first to notice your inebriated state, his concern barely masked beneath a veneer of casual detachment. the moment he saw you struggling to maintain your balance, his demeanor had shifted, becoming more focused and intent. jungkook and tzuyu, sensing the urgency of the situation, had both nodded in agreement when taehyung had offered to take you home. their willingness to step aside, allowing him to handle the responsibility, was tinged with a mixture of relief and reluctance.

as he guided you out of the limo and into the cool night air, you stumbled beside him, the world around you swaying unpredictably. his hand was steady on your back, offering a semblance of support as you leaned into him, your thoughts spilling out in slurred, incoherent fragments. “they’ve been acting so weird lately,” you had said, your voice thick with the weight of your inebriation. your feet fumbled with each step, nearly tripping over nothing, causing taehyung to steady himself as he guided you forward.

“who?” he had asked, his voice a mixture of concern and curiosity as he tried to keep you upright. “jungkook and tzuyu,” you had managed to articulate, the names coming out in a jumble. you had nearly taken him down with you, but he had managed to regain his footing, his grip on you firm and reassuring.

taehyung had sighed, a hint of bemusement in his tone as he responded, “yeah, they must be on their periods.” his attempt to lighten the situation with a touch of humor did little to quell the storm brewing inside you. you had leaned into his touch, seeking comfort as you stumbled along, his breath catching in his throat at the weight of the situation.

as you reached your building, taehyung had retrieved the keys from your purse, his movements steady despite the chaos around you. he had quietly opened the door and guided you inside, the familiar surroundings offering little solace in your disoriented state. his touch was gentle yet firm, leading you toward your room. when you collapsed onto your bed with a sigh, your hair tousled and makeup smeared, taehyung had settled beside you, his presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of your emotions. the silence between you had been heavy, filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged truths.

“i’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he had said, his voice breaking the silence with an unexpected vulnerability. his apology hung in the air, charged with an unspoken weight that you struggled to process. you had turned to him, your gaze unfocused yet searching, and asked quietly, “what do you mean?”

he had hesitated, the tension evident in the way he struggled to find the right words. “jungkook, he cheated on you with tzuyu,” he had finally admitted, his voice carrying the gravity of the confession. “it was for his nineteenth birthday, not too long ago. they both got drunk and let it happen.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, the shock of the revelation enough to make your stomach churn. you could hardly process the enormity of what you were hearing. your face remained a blank canvas, a mask of disbelief that hid the turmoil raging within. the shock and betrayal combined with the alcohol had caused you to heave, but you fought to keep your composure, even as a stray tear slipped down your cheek. taehyung had watched you with a look of genuine concern, his own face reflecting the weight of the confession. “are you okay?” he had asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a sign of how you were holding up.

you had nodded, your face still an inscrutable mask of calm. “of course i am,” you had said, your voice carrying a hollow edge. you had wiped the stray tear from your cheek, a gesture of self-reliance born from the realization that, ultimately, no one else would tend to your pain if not you. “i’m my mother’s daughter,” you had continued, the words dripping with a resigned bitterness. “what did i expect?”

the morning after the revelation had dawned on you with an oppressive weight, the remnants of sleep eluding you entirely. you had barely managed a few restless hours in the tangled sheets of your bed, your mind too frantic to find solace. the truth that taehyung had so courageously unveiled the night before replayed relentlessly in your thoughts. despite your own turmoil, you had promised him one thing: you wouldn’t tell a single soul it was he who had delivered the devastating news. he was the only one who had broken the silence, not your childhood boyfriend, not your childhood friend—just taehyung. that sense of betrayal, sharp and unrelenting, needed an outlet, and jungkook was the target.

you dialed his number with a resolve that left no room for hesitation. the message you left was terse and urgent, an unmistakable demand for his presence. the call was made with the singular intent of making him face what he had done. the hangover that should have plagued you was eclipsed by a burning rage that consumed every corner of your being, leaving no room for the dull ache of alcohol.

when jungkook finally arrived, his demeanor was casual, an oblivious ease that contrasted sharply with your seething anger. he knocked softly on the door before stepping in, and there you were, seated in the living room with an air of normalcy that belied the storm raging inside you. your robe was tightly wrapped around you, a newspaper spread over your lap, and a mimosa in your hand. the scene seemed almost serene, save for the smirk playing on your lips, a jarring anomaly in an otherwise composed setting.

jungkook’s gaze swept over you with a hint of confusion, his eyes scanning the room as he stepped inside. “what happened? is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern that felt out of place given the circumstances. you put the newspaper aside with deliberate calm, taking a leisurely sip of your mimosa. your tone was laced with a blandness that only partially masked the fury beneath. “why wouldn’t it be?” you responded, your voice a veil over the storm raging inside.

his confusion deepened as he took in your demeanor. “you made it sound like an emergency,” he said, his brow furrowing as he tried to reconcile your apparent calm with the urgency of your call. you rose from the couch, every movement purposeful as you approached him. “it is,” you said, your voice cutting through the air like a blade. the room seemed to contract around you, the tension thick and suffocating.

as you neared him, you gave him one last scrutinizing look, taking in the sight of his relaxed, oblivious smile. “i had a question for you,” you said, your voice steady, almost eerily calm. jungkook’s smile remained, a complacent grin that belied his confusion. “sure, babe, what is it?” he asked, the affectionate term coming out as a painful irony.

you looked at him, that smile of his igniting the flames of your anger further. and then, with a sudden, sharp movement, you struck him. the force of your hand colliding with his cheek was enough to silence him, to shock him into the reality of the situation. the impact left a stinging imprint, a physical manifestation of the emotional upheaval you were feeling.

“did you fuck her good?” you demanded, your voice low and cutting.

the words seemed to hang in the air, each syllable weighted with the pain and betrayal you felt. jungkook’s face shifted from shock to realization, his eyes widening as the gravity of your question sank in. his once relaxed demeanor shattered, his hands became frantic as he tried to piece together the situation. “please, listen to me,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “it was a mistake. it was a mistake!”

you mimicked his earlier sweet smile with an icy twist, the gesture as false as it was cruel. “i wouldn’t hear you out even if you kneeled,” you said, each word deliberate and final. “get out, before i call security.”

the command was clear, leaving no room for negotiation or apology. jungkook’s pleas continued, but they fell on deaf ears as you turned away, the finality of your words hanging in the air like a guillotine. the door clicked shut behind him, a sound that resonated with the finality of an ending. in the silence that followed, you were left alone with the remnants of your anger and betrayal. the echoes of his desperate voice faded, leaving you with nothing but the harsh reality of the situation and the unyielding truth that you would face alone.

the weight of your actions had not yet fully settled, but your resolve was unshakable. you moved with a determined grace, the anger fueling your every step. you discarded your robe with an almost clinical precision, the soft fabric slipping from your shoulders as you reached for something more fitting for your mission. the casual dress you chose clung to you with a casual elegance, but it was the leather jacket that completed your ensemble, draped over your shoulders like a mantle of defiance. you needed to make a statement, and every detail of your appearance was a deliberate choice, a symbol of your readiness to confront the chaos head-on.

the drive to tzuyu’s penthouse was swift, your mind focused solely on the confrontation that awaited. when you arrived, you were greeted by her mother, a vision of warmth and hospitality. her bright smile was so unlike the storm brewing within you. “oh, it’s so nice to see you!” she exclaimed, her cheerfulness almost disorienting. “tzuyu didn’t mention you were joining us for breakfast.”

you returned her smile with practiced ease, masking the turbulence beneath. “it’s wonderful to see you, too,” you said, the words coming out with a politeness that barely concealed your intentions. “i actually didn’t come for breakfast, though,” you continued, your tone slipping into a more measured calm. “i don’t have much of an appetite.”

with that, you bypassed her, moving swiftly toward the door that led to tzuyu’s room. you didn’t wait for an invitation or further pleasantries; you entered with purpose, your stride unwavering. tzuyu, sprawled on her bed in a state of groggy confusion, looked up with an expression of surprise that bordered on innocent. “what’s with the surprise visit?” she asked, her eyes wide with an almost childlike curiosity. “did you sober up?”

you smiled, a tight, controlled expression that belied the seething anger just beneath. “i’ve definitely sobered up,” you said, letting the words hang in the air with an edge of finality. “how about you?” she sighed, rubbing her eyes as if to clear the fog of the morning. “i’m still feeling a bit groggy,” she admitted, her voice trailing off into a yawn. her obliviousness was almost unbearable, a contrast to the storm you were about to unleash.

the moment was charged with a palpable tension. you could feel your hand twitching, a physical manifestation of the anger you could no longer contain. before you could second-guess yourself, you allowed your hand to collide with her cheek with a sharp, decisive smack. the sound of the impact reverberated in the room, leaving a stinging silence in its wake. tzuyu’s eyes widened in shock, her face frozen in an expression of disbelief.

“maybe that’ll wake you up,” you said, the words cold and devoid of sympathy. her mouth opened as if to respond, but the ringing of her phone cut her off. both of you turned toward the sound, and the sight of jungkook’s name flashing on the screen seemed to crystallize the realization of what had transpired.

a derisive scoff escaped your lips as you watched her face drain of color, the realization dawning on her with a visceral impact. “i always knew you were a slut,” you said, each word deliberate and cutting. “never took you for a liar, too.”

her composure shattered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to find words that would never come. the sight of her distress was almost satisfying, but you were beyond caring. you had come to deliver a message, and now that it was sent, you turned on your heel with a resolute finality. you left the room without a backward glance, the confrontation leaving behind a cold, echoing silence. your steps were purposeful as you made your way out, each footfall a reminder that you had not come for breakfast or for pleasantries. the meal you had served was one that was best served cold.

the limo door closed behind you with a soft thud, sealing you in the quiet, dimly lit interior. the rush of adrenaline from the encounter with tzuyu still lingered, but as you settled into the plush leather seat, a different kind of tension began to gnaw at you. your eyes drifted to your hand resting in your lap, the subtle tremor in your fingers drawing your attention. no matter how hard you squeezed your hand into a fist, the twitching refused to cease, a stubborn reminder of the morning’s confrontation.

“will we be going back home, miss?” the driver’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone polite but indifferent, as though he hadn’t just ferried you from one battlefield to another. you forced yourself to regroup, pushing aside the flicker of doubt that threatened to creep in. “no,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “there’s one more stop.”

the drive to taehyung’s hotel was brief, the city’s landscape a blur as you wrestled with the unrelenting twitch in your hand. the calm you had worked so hard to maintain was fraying at the edges, and by the time you arrived at the penthouse, the tremor had become a constant, unsettling presence. the door was unlocked when you arrived, a testament to the casual chaos that always seemed to surround taehyung. the minute it swung open, you were greeted by the overpowering musk of weed and cologne, the two scents mingling in a way that was almost nauseating. you stepped inside, barely managing to stifle the scoff that threatened to escape as you took in the familiar scene before you.

two girls emerged from the lit interior, their hair a mess of tangled curls, and their makeup smeared from what must have been a long night. they wore nothing but oversized shirts that you could only assume belonged to taehyung, the hemline barely grazing their thighs. the sneers they shot you were unmistakable, a territorial display that you found almost laughable.

and then, taehyung appeared. his hair was wet, droplets of water clinging to the strands as he emerged from what must have been a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. you rolled your eyes, too accustomed to his antics to be fazed by the sight. he caught your eye, a smirk playing on his lips as he used a towel to rub his hair dry. “please excuse their lack of manners,” he drawled, the arrogance in his voice palpable. “gangnam girls, what can i say?”

you rolled your eyes again, the gesture becoming almost second nature in his presence. “you’re disgusting,” you retorted, your voice laced with disdain. he laughed, the sound rich and careless, as though your insult had only amused him. “why did you stop by?” he asked, tilting his head in that infuriatingly casual way of his. “did you come by to partake in round two?”

the suggestion was enough to make you scrunch your face up in disgust. “not even in your wildest dreams.” his smirk only widened, and he turned to pour himself a drink, the clink of glass against glass echoing through the penthouse. your eyes followed the movement, landing on the amber liquid as it swirled in the glass. “a little early for a drink, isn’t it?” you asked, unable to keep the note of disapproval from creeping into your voice.

he downed the glass in one go, the smirk never leaving his lips as he shook his head. “never too early for some fun,” he replied, his voice casual. he paused, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink before adding, “i heard you had some fun of your own this morning.” his words took you by surprise, your carefully constructed plan to break the news to him first crumbling in an instant. “how do you know about that?” you demanded, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

taehyung merely shrugged, the movement languid as he refilled his glass. “i could only assume,” he said, his tone nonchalant, “given the missed calls from the ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.” you stared at him, the surprise flickering across your face. “did you answer any of them?”

he chuckled, the sound low and amused. “i was a bit busy, as you saw.” another eye roll. “you’re awful,” you muttered, turning on your heel, ready to leave the chaos of his penthouse behind. but just as your hand reached for the door, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i’m opening my club tonight,” he said, the words hanging in the air between you. “aren’t you gonna come and show your support?” you turned back to face him, a scoff escaping your lips. “you’re really investing in a burlesque club?”

he shot you a look, one that was almost serious if it weren’t for the glint of mischief in his eyes. “i thought you knew art better than anyone else.” a sigh slipped past your lips, a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance. “fine,” you said, the word heavy with resignation. “i’ll be there.”

as you turned to leave, something caught your eye—a subtle change in taehyung’s expression. the smirk that usually adorned his lips had softened, replaced by something you hadn’t expected. a smile. not a smirk, not a taunt, but a genuine, warm smile. it was fleeting, barely there, but it left a lingering warmth in the room even after you had gone.

you returned home with a heavy weight on your shoulders, the events of the day replaying in your mind like a broken record. the penthouse, the limo, the tremor in your hand—all of it seemed to swirl together in a murky haze of emotions you could barely contain. the opulent surroundings of your home provided little comfort, the luxurious furnishings and sprawling space feeling more like a cage than a sanctuary.

you tried to distract yourself, lounging on the chaise in the living room, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the silk cushions. the house was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that allowed your thoughts to echo louder than they should. but you refused to let your mind wander too far, knowing that if you did, the reality of everything would come crashing down.

and then, the quiet was interrupted by the soft click of heels against marble, a sound you recognized all too well. your mother entered the room, her expression unreadable as she approached you. she had a newspaper clutched in her hands, the edges crinkled from the way she held it, as if she had been gripping it tightly for some time. you looked up, meeting her gaze with a flicker of curiosity. “is everything okay?” you asked, your voice steady, though the knot in your stomach told you otherwise.

“i don’t know,” she replied, her tone careful, measured. she paused, then spread the newspaper open in front of you, laying it on the coffee table with a deliberate slowness that only added to the tension. “you tell me.”

your eyes fell on the display, the bold headline, the accompanying photo. it took a moment for the image to register, for the reality of what you were seeing to sink in. but when it did, it hit you like a freight train. the photograph was unmistakable—jungkook and tzuyu, walking side by side, their hands intertwined as if they belonged together. the smile on his face, the way she leaned into him—it was a picture-perfect moment, captured by a photographer who had been in the right place at the worst possible time.

but it was the headline that truly did you in, the words glaring back at you with a finality that made your stomach churn. an engagement confirmed, jeon jungkook and chou tzuyu set to wed. it was a fatal blow, one that you hadn’t seen coming, one that you hadn’t even known was on the horizon. the engagement—their engagement—was something you hadn’t even heard about until now, and the shock of it made the room tilt around you.

you felt your whole world come crashing down in an instant, the ground shifting beneath your feet. the bile rose in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might actually throw up. but you swallowed it down, refusing to let the nausea take over, even as your heart sank deeper into the pit of despair. your mother noticed your distress, her expression softening as she took in your reaction. she was the only one who could see through the mask you wore, the only one who knew just how deep this wound cut. “so it really is true, is it?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost tentative.

you could only muster up the energy to nod, the motion slow, as if the act of agreeing took more out of you than you had to give. she crumpled the newspaper in her hands, the sound of the paper crunching under her grip filling the room before she tossed it to the ground. the gesture was full of a frustration she didn’t voice, a rage she didn’t let surface.

she approached you, her movements cautious, as if afraid you might break if she got too close. lneeling beside you, she searched your face for tears, but found none. you hadn’t cried, not a single tear, because the pain was too deep, too raw to manifest in something as simple as crying. but she didn’t need to see your tears to know you were hurting. she had always known, perhaps even before you did.

“i’m so proud of you,” she began, her voice soft, filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. she reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a gentleness that only made it harder to breathe. “i’m so proud of you for handling it like this.”

you met her gaze for a moment, your eyes locking with hers. but the sharpness in your tone betrayed the anger simmering beneath the surface. “why? because i didn’t handle it the way you did?”

the hurt that flashed across her face was immediate, a brief flicker of pain that she couldn’t hide. but you didn’t care. no matter how bad she felt, no matter how much she hurt, she had to deal with the consequences of her own actions. you weren’t responsible for her pain, not now, not ever. “i would never give second chances,” you continued, your voice cold, detached. “let alone abandon my daughter to give a million more of them.”

she had no words, nothing to say that could make up for the past. because she knew you were right. she knew that no matter how much she wanted to mend the rift between you, no matter how desperately she tried, the mistakes she had made would always be there, a shadow that hung over your relationship like a storm cloud. so when you stood up, she didn’t stop you. she didn’t reach out, didn’t call after you, because she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. the silence between you was heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid, the things that would never be said because the damage had been done long ago.

as you left the room, all you could tell yourself was that she had her chance. when it should have been you, it was your father. when it should have been you, it was the man who had cheated on her, the man she had chosen over you. and now, the choices she had made so long ago were coming back to haunt her, just as they were coming back to haunt you. but you wouldn’t let them define you. you wouldn’t let her mistakes dictate your life. because you were stronger than that. and no matter how much it hurt, no matter how deep the wound, you would heal. even if it took everything you had.

you spent the evening preparing for taehyung’s club opening with meticulous care. your makeup was flawless, each stroke and blend designed to enhance your natural features while exuding confidence. you opted for a dress that struck the perfect balance between understated elegance and bold sophistication—a midnight blue gown that hugged your figure in all the right places, with a slit that hinted at just enough leg. your choice of jewelry was deliberate: a pair of sapphire earrings and a delicate silver bracelet that added a touch of sparkle without overwhelming your look. every detail was intended to make a statement of support, a way of showing that despite everything, you stood with taehyung.

as you adjusted the final strands of your hair and examined your reflection, you felt a pang of resolve mixed with unease. taehyung had been a steadfast ally, someone who had stepped up when others had not. you might not have known him as long or as intimately as you did jungkook or tzuyu, but his loyalty and support had earned your respect. you were determined to return the favor, even if it was under these difficult circumstances.

your chauffer arrived promptly, a sympathetic look in his eyes that betrayed his knowledge of the day's earlier events. you offered him a polite smile, appreciating the gesture even as you sensed the pity behind it. it seemed everyone had seen the news, and while some might have been hoping to witness your downfall, you refused to let their expectations dictate your actions. you had no need for their pity; you were here for taehyung, and that was all that mattered.

upon arriving at the club, the driver gave you a fleeting compliment on your appearance, his words tinged with transparent affection. you acknowledged it with a practiced smile and a courteous thank you before turning to face the club’s entrance. the twitching in your hand persisted, an incessant reminder of the chaos that had unfolded earlier. you gripped your fingers tightly, trying to steady the unsettling tremor, but it only seemed to intensify as you approached the bouncer and announced your name.

inside, the club dazzled with its blue lighting, casting a cool, ethereal glow over the crowd. the music was upbeat, familiar, a soundtrack that seemed both comforting and alien amidst the night’s emotional turmoil. the air was rich with the mingling scents of high-end alcohol and the faint trace of a sophisticated, floral aroma. despite the beauty of the setting, your nerves remained on edge. the club was undoubtedly a reflection of taehyung’s tastes, a testament to his style and ambition, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to you.

just as you began to lose yourself in the ambiance, a new sound caught your attention. the gruffness of a man’s voice, unmistakably agitated, drew you toward a nearby hallway. as you approached cautiously, you caught sight of taehyung and his father engaged in a heated conversation near the entrance to the bathrooms. taehyung’s expression was a mixture of sorrow and frustration, while his father’s face was etched with anger and disappointment.

you pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear their conversation while remaining unobtrusive. the words that drifted toward you were sharp and cutting. “this is why you’ll never be good enough. is this what you plan on doing for the rest of your life? investing in women and alcohol?” the harshness in his father’s voice was evident, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

taehyung’s response was a desperate plea. “it isn’t like that. don’t you see how many people are here? they came to support me. it’s not about the money or the women.”

his father’s reaction was dismissive, a scoff escaping his lips. “your mother would be disappointed.”

the statement hung heavy in the air, a final, damning indictment that seemed to crush taehyung’s spirit. you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of his father’s words. goosebumps broke out on your skin as you watched the scene unfold, the pain and conflict evident in taehyung’s face. the confrontation seemed to end abruptly as his father turned away, leaving him standing alone with his hurt and frustration.

you remained frozen in place, your gaze fixated on the scene that had just unfolded. the discord between taehyung and his father had left you feeling unsettled, and you were still processing the weight of their conversation. when he finally turned around and met your eyes, his expression softened slightly, though the hurt remained etched into his features. he approached you with a wry smile, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and reproach. “eavesdropping isn’t very eloquent of you, now is it?”

you felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, and you shook your head, flustered. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to intrude.” his eyes searched yours, gauging the truth of your apology. “how much did you hear?” he asked.

you hesitated for a moment before responding. “not much,” you lied, though you knew he could see right through you. despite this, he chose not to press further, an unspoken understanding passing between you. determined to ease his pain, even just a little, you offered a genuine compliment. “the club is amazing. you did a great job, taehyung. i’m really proud of you, and you should be too.”

he scoffed lightly, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “i thought you of all people would know how i feel about pity.” you walked with him, taking in the luxurious surroundings of the club as you spoke. “i pity no one,” you said, your gaze sweeping over the elegant décor. “i just have a good eye.”

he chuckled softly and gestured toward a nearby velvet sofa. “let’s see just how good your eye is.”

you took a seat beside him, the plush cushions enveloping you in comfort. the club’s ambiance was sophisticated and chic, a far cry from the rowdy, overtly provocative establishments you had anticipated. the women around you were dressed in stylish, modest attire, their elegance a testament to taehyung’s taste and vision. as you sipped from your glass, you felt the familiar twitch in your hand returning, an involuntary reaction to the stress and turmoil of the day. you tried to ignore it, but taehyung’s perceptive gaze noticed your discomfort.

“what’s with your hand?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. you shook your head, attempting to dismiss it. “it’s been doing that all day.”

before you could raise your glass for another sip, taehyung reached over and gently took your hand in his. his touch was unexpectedly warm, and you felt a jolt of surprise as he placed his hand over yours, effectively stilling the trembling. “what are you doing?” you asked, taken aback by his unexpected gesture.

he ignored your question, instead focusing on the sensation of your hand beneath his. With a gentle squeeze, he seemed to transfer some of his warmth to you. “it’s freezing,” he remarked. “no wonder you’re shaking.”

the simple act of his hand over yours had an immediate effect; your hand ceased its tremor, the warmth and reassurance from his touch proving to be surprisingly calming. you looked at him, astonished by the unexpected relief. he let go of your hand, and you noticed with a mix of wonder and gratitude that the twitching had completely stopped. his thoughtful gesture had provided more comfort than you had anticipated, and you felt a deep sense of appreciation for his quiet support.

as you and taehyung settled into the plush velvet sofa, the atmosphere of the club enveloped you. the stage, bathed in a rich, ambient light, was now the focal point of the room. the performers, a group of women dressed in matching, sleek outfits, took their positions. their attire was a harmonious blend of black and gold, each piece meticulously chosen to accentuate their grace and elegance. the room fell silent in anticipation, and the low, sultry beats of the music began to pulse through the air.

the dancers moved as one, their synchronized steps creating a mesmerizing rhythm that captivated the audience. the choreography was a seamless blend of fluid motions and sharp accents, each gesture exuding confidence and allure. their bodies swayed and undulated with practiced precision, creating a visual symphony of movement that held the crowd in rapt attention.

the dance routine was both graceful and provocative, designed to showcase their athleticism and artistry. their movements were precise yet fluid, their expressions a mix of allure and control. as they twirled and moved, the lighting cast dramatic shadows that emphasized every curve and line, adding to the seductive ambiance of the performance.

you glanced at taehyung, noting the way his eyes followed the dancers with admiration. his smirk was barely contained as he observed their performance, but when he noticed your gaze, he tilted his head slightly, acknowledging your silent praise. “good dancers, aren’t they?” he asked, his voice low and filled with an undertone of challenge. you nodded, still watching the stage. “you’ve outdone yourself this time,” you said, genuinely impressed by the display.

his smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “but i think i’d rather see you up there,” he said, his tone light but carrying an edge of challenge. you turned back to him with a roll of your eyes. “you’re despicable,” you replied, your voice tinged with both amusement and defiance.

he chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “i know you’d never, don’t worry,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. the challenge in his words sparked something within you. your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you met his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and determination. “you really think i wouldn’t?” you asked, your tone daring.

taehyung leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “enlighten me.”

with a resolute nod, you felt the warmth of the alcohol dulling your nerves, giving you the courage to accept the challenge. you stood up, feeling the eyes of the room upon you as you made your way to the stage. the sudden shift in energy was intense, and you could sense the anticipation building. the stage was bathed in a soft spotlight as you stepped into the center, the audience’s eyes fixed on you. the music, a slow, seductive melody with a steady beat, filled the space around you. you took a deep breath and began to move, each step deliberate and measured, yet brimming with sensuality.

your dance was a blend of sultry elegance and bold confidence. you began with a slow, sinuous sway of your hips, your movements flowing seamlessly with the rhythm of the music. your hands glided through the air, tracing invisible patterns as you twirled and spun with a grace that drew the audience’s gaze. the fabric of your dress clung to your curves, accentuating every motion and adding to the overall allure of your performance. as you continued, you incorporated a series of fluid, seductive movements, your body articulating each beat with precision. your gaze remained locked on taehyung, whose eyes were fixed intently on you. his expression was a mix of surprise and admiration, his smirk replaced by a look of genuine interest.

you made use of the entire stage, your movements becoming increasingly bold and expressive. the lighting shifted to highlight your figure, casting dramatic shadows that played across the floor. the audience’s reaction was one of awe, their murmurs and gasps a testament to the impact of your performance. taehyung’s gaze never wavered as he watched you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and intrigue. the intensity of his stare only fueled your confidence, and you poured every ounce of emotion into the dance.

you weren’t sure when exactly it had happened. one moment, you were basking in the afterglow of your performance, the applause still ringing in your ears, and taehyung’s unwavering gaze was locked onto yours. the next, the world around you blurred into a hazy swirl of emotions and sensations. you were vaguely aware of the transition—of leaving the club, of the distant sound of music and chatter fading away—but the details were a disjointed blur, unimportant in the grand scheme of what was unfolding.

the next clear memory was the sudden jolt as your back hit the plush leather seat of the limo. taehyung’s hand, warm and firm, cupped the back of your head, guiding it gently to soften the impact. his touch was both tender and commanding, a subtle yet unmistakable assertion of his control over the moment. the rush of air, mingled with the lingering scent of his cologne and the intoxicating aroma of the night, created an atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.

as your eyes met his, he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours with a fervor that sent a shiver down your spine. the kiss was a potent mix of passion and urgency, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own. the warmth of his breath, the slight pressure of his lips, and the way his fingers gripped your hair created a cocoon of sensation that drowned out everything else.

he broke the kiss briefly, his eyes still locked on yours, a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions. “i think it’s my turn to say you’ve outdone yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with a sultry confidence. before you could fully process his words, he closed the distance again, pressing his lips to yours with renewed intensity. the limo’s interior, dimly lit and private, became a haven for your shared moment. the air inside was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol, his cologne, and the faint traces of sweat from the evening. the mingling of these aromas, combined with the intimate setting, only heightened the electric tension between you.

as your nails clawed at his suit, desperate to feel the warmth of his body against yours, you were acutely aware of the recklessness of the situation. there was a part of you that knew, in the back of your mind, that this was a moment you might come to regret come morning. the clarity of dawn would bring with it the weight of consequences, the knowledge of what you had done. but right then, under the weight of his embrace and the intoxicating blend of alcohol and desire, those thoughts seemed distant, almost irrelevant.

taehyung’s hand slid down from your hair to your chest, his thumb brushing against the swell of your breast. your breath hitched as he squeezed gently, his eyes darkening with hunger. “you’re full of surprises tonight,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. his other hand found its way to your thigh, slowly sliding up under your dress, the fabric parting like water around his fingers. your heart raced as he reached the apex of your thighs, his touch setting your skin alight.

his fingers danced around the edge of your panties, teasing, before dipping beneath the fabric. you gasped as he touched you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. “i knew,” he murmured, a smug smile playing on his lips. “i knew you wanted this as much as i do.” his voice was a seductive purr, his words a mix of praise and degradation that sent a thrill through your body. despite the vulgarity, you found yourself craving more, the need to hear him say those dirty things growing stronger with each passing second.

his hand continued to explore, his thumb now circling your clit with a maddening slowness. your hips bucked against his touch, urging him on. you could feel his erection pressing against your leg, a silent display of his own arousal. with a growl, he pushed aside the last barrier of fabric, his fingers plunging into you with a fierce urgency that stole the breath from your lungs. “fuck, tae—” you moaned, your voice a hoarse whisper that seemed to echo in the enclosed space of the limo. he smirked, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked his fingers in and out of you, your juices coating his hand.

his thumb remained a constant pressure point, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of release. you threw your head back, lost in the sensation, as he leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. the mix of pleasure and pain sent you spiraling, your body tensing and then releasing in a powerful orgasm. taehyung’s chuckle of satisfaction vibrated against your skin, his grip on your hair tightening as he claimed your mouth once more. your thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one thing was clear: this was the best sex you’d ever had. and for a brief, shining moment, jungkook was nothing but a distant memory.

you reached down to free his cock from the confines of his pants, your hand wrapping around his thick, velvety length. he hissed in a sharp breath, his eyes closing briefly as you stroked him, the tip already slick with precum. the sensation of his pulse in your palm was intoxicating, a silent promise of the pleasure yet to come. “you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive whisper in your ear. “every inch of me, until you can’t walk straight tomorrow. until jungkook is nothing but a pathetic little worm in your memory.”

his words sent a thrill of excitement through you, a heady mix of anger and lust that only served to fuel your desire. you nodded, a silent agreement, as he pushed your panties aside and positioned himself at your entrance. without warning, he slammed into you, filling you to the brim. the suddenness of it took your breath away, your eyes wide with shock and pleasure.

his hips moved in a steady, powerful rhythm, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper. your nails dug into his back as you tried to anchor yourself, the pleasure building with each movement. his hand found your breast, playing with the nipple as he pounded into you, the sting of pain from your tight grip on his shoulders only adding to the symphony of sensations.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue demanding entry, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. your bodies were slick with sweat, the leather of the seat sticking to your skin as you moved together. the air was thick with the sound of your ragged breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin. it was raw, it was animalistic, and it was everything you never knew you needed.

his thrusts grew harder, more urgent, his breathing ragged. “you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, his voice a desperate growl. “you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, aren’t you?”

you could only nod, the words lost in the intensity of the moment. as he sped up, you felt yourself climbing towards another peak, the pressure building like a crescendo in your core. when you finally shattered again, it was with a scream that was muffled by his mouth, his own release following swiftly after.

in the aftermath, you lay there, your heart racing, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. taehyung’s weight was a comforting presence, his chest rising and falling heavily against your own. you didn’t know what the morning would bring, but in that moment, all you knew was that you had claimed your victory over jungkook, and it was a victory that had left you feeling more alive than ever before.

when you woke up the next morning, the throbbing in your head was the first sensation that greeted you. the remnants of a night spent in hazy indulgence seemed to have manifested in the dull ache that now pervaded your temples. as you slowly gathered yourself from the tangle of sheets, you became acutely aware of the soreness in your thighs and the general discomfort that seemed to have settled in every joint of your body. the remnants of your encounter with taehyung from the night before were all too vivid, despite the haze of alcohol and heartbreak that had enveloped the evening.

the memories of what had transpired, the reckless abandon in the limo, felt like a crushing weight on your chest. you tried to push them aside, focusing instead on dressing yourself and stepping out the door as if nothing had changed. however, despite your efforts to maintain a facade of normalcy, the gnawing embarrassment at what had happened lingered in the back of your mind.

as you walked down the quiet streets, your pace quickened, an unconscious reaction to your heightened sense of anxiety. the sharp screech of tires sliced through the morning calm, making you turn abruptly. To your dismay, a familiar limo pulled up beside you, its sleek black surface reflecting the bright morning light. the window rolled down, revealing taehyung’s smirk.

“need a ride?” he asked, his tone teasing. “or was last night enough?” you scoffed, the sound sharp in the stillness of the street. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, attempting to walk away with as much dignity as you could muster. however, the limo kept pace with you, taehyung’s voice drifting out the open window.

“how about you come in, and i’ll enlighten you?” his words were laced with a mix of amusement and challenge. “no need. one disappointment is enough,” you shot back, frustration edging your voice. you were relieved when the limo finally turned around and drove off, your body tensing as you continued your walk.

but your respite was short-lived. as you rounded a corner, your heart sank at the sight of jungkook and tzuyu standing just a few feet away. they were intertwined, their hands clasped together, looking equally flustered and frozen in the moment. the silence between you all was deafening, each person seemingly waiting for the other to speak, yet no one moved.

just when you were about to speak, a familiar arm slid around your shoulders. you turned to find taehyung beside you, his focus unwaveringly fixed on jungkook and tzuyu. you tensed, feeling the weight of his arm as he drew you closer, and despite your discomfort, you couldn’t help but notice how taehyung's gaze remained defiant, almost mocking.

“it’s funny seeing you two here,” he said, his voice carrying a note of casual detachment. “you two look like escorts.” you fought back a laugh, surprised by the sudden shift in tension. tzuyu’s response was a scoff, her voice edged with annoyance. “you’re not funny, taehyung.”

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i wasn’t trying to be.” jungkook’s eyes were a mix of anger and hurt as he glanced from taehyung’s arm around you to your own stiff posture. “what are you two doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

you tilted your head, a trace of exasperation in your tone. “how is that any of your business?” taehyung patted your shoulder, a gesture that seemed almost patronizing. “don’t worry, he has a right to know,” he said before addressing jungkook again. “we were about to leave for brunch.”

the words seemed to hit jungkook harder than you’d expected. his expression softened, a fleeting look of hurt crossing his face. “that’s a funny coincidence. we were about to go too.” taehyung’s chuckle lacked any real amusement. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, then turned back to you. “we should all go together.” your head whipped around to him, eyes wide with disbelief. before you could protest further, jungkook had already agreed. the situation had spiraled out of your control, leaving you caught in a tangled web of the things you hated most in the world.

the restaurant was an elegant blend of sophistication and comfort, with plush velvet seating and softly glowing chandeliers that cast a warm, inviting light over the room. you were seated beside taehyung, who exuded a relaxed confidence that contrasted starkly with the tension you felt. jungkook and tzuyu were across from you, their expressions a mix of discomfort and guardedness.

you tried to focus on the menu, but the trembling in your hand betrayed your inner turmoil. to your surprise, taehyung noticed. his hand slipped over yours, his touch firm yet reassuring. the moment his fingers enveloped yours, the shaking ceased. the sudden calm was almost unnerving, but you tried to ignore it, instead fixing your gaze on the champagne bottle that the waitress had just placed in an ice bucket on the table.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between you and him. his fingers clenched into a fist, the muscles in his jaw tightening. tzuyu shot him a concerned glance but remained silent. the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

taehyung broke the uneasy silence, his voice carrying a note of playful reproach. “i was so disappointed when you two didn’t show up to my opening last night,” he said, his smirk widening as he turned to you. “you missed quite the show.”

your gaze hardened, a flash of irritation crossing your face. qithout thinking, you kicked taehyung’s shin with your heel. he let out a yelp, drawing a sharp look from jungkook and tzuyu. they exchanged glances but chose not to comment. instead, tzuyu responded with a curt tone. “we were a bit busy last night.”

you took a sip of champagne, letting the bubbles dance on your tongue as you maintained a steady gaze on tzuyu. “i’m sure you were,” you said, pausing for effect before adding, “how’s your cheek?”

her silence spoke volumes. she couldn’t meet your gaze, and you caught a glimpse of taehyung’s smirk from the corner of your eye. his amusement was obvious, but you forced yourself to stay focused. jungkook, clearly frustrated, asked, “do you always have to be so hostile?”

you finished your glass with a deliberate motion and turned to him. “try not to talk too much,” you said, your voice cool. “your cheek still must be sore.” tzuyu rolled her eyes, her tone laced with irritation. “his cheek is just fine, no thanks to you.”

you offered a condescending smile and took the champagne bottle, pouring yourself another glass. the liquid swirled within the glass as you swished it lightly. “careful, princess,” you said with a hint of mockery, “a dangerous thing to say with a last season valentino on.” you gestured toward her dress, noting the slight discomfort it caused her.

she fell silent, her expression tightening. taehyung’s hand moved to your thigh, his touch startling you. it was a jolt that snapped you into a heightened awareness of the situation. he leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “play nice.”

you took a deep breath, struggling to maintain a semblance of composure. every word, every gesture felt like an excruciating exercise in restraint. the effort was draining, but taehyung’s hand on your thigh provided a strange comfort. each time your hand started to tremble, he was there, his grip steady and calming. the trembling would cease, leaving you with a paradox of relief and frustration.

despite your best efforts, the undercurrent of conflict remained. every forced smile and polite exchange felt like a compromise of your true feelings. you were acutely aware of the intricate dance you were performing, trying to keep the peace while your emotions simmered just beneath the surface. but with each tremor of your hand and each reassuring touch from him, you struggled to maintain your fragile equilibrium, knowing that beneath the veneer of civility, everything was unraveling.

you were ready to leave, your patience worn thin by the tension and the forced pleasantries. the evening had drained you in more ways than one, and all you wanted was the solace of solitude. as you stood to go, taehyung’s voice cut through the air, calm yet insistent. “it’s a long drive. i’ll take you.” you scoffed, shaking your head as you reached for your bag. “my legs work just fine, taehyung.”

but he didn’t listen. before you could protest further, he had already grabbed your arm, gently but firmly pulling you towards the exit. you tried to resist, but he was unyielding, guiding you out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo. the door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you inside with him, the tension from the dinner still thick in the air.

the drive was stiflingly awkward, the silence between you a heavy reminder of the mistake you had made the night before. the plush leather seats, the tinted windows, the soft hum of the engine—it all felt like an extension of the regret that gnawed at you, a physical manifestation of the night you wished you could forget. taehyung’s voice broke the silence, his words heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. “you regret it, don’t you?”

you couldn’t find the words to respond. instead, you turned your head to the window, watching the city lights blur past. the weight of his question hung in the air, and though you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, the silence that followed was answer enough. you could feel his gaze on you, the quiet pain it caused him evident in the way he shifted slightly in his seat. it was a silent, unspoken ache that settled in your chest, but you forced yourself to ignore it.

the drive seemed to stretch on, the minutes dragging like hours. you glanced at your phone, frowning as you noticed the time. “we should’ve been home by now,” you remarked, your voice tinged with suspicion. taehyung shook his head, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i have to stop somewhere first.” you wanted to ask where, but the weariness in his tone kept you silent. instead, you leaned back into the seat, resigned to wherever he was taking you.

after what felt like an eternity, the limo finally came to a halt. taehyung was the first to exit, and you followed, confusion knitting your brows as you noticed the plastic bag of flowers he carried in his hand. the air was cool, a slight breeze ruffling your hair as you looked around, taking in the sight of the park that stretched out before you. but it wasn’t the park that caught your attention—it was the memorial center adjacent to it.

you trailed after him, your confusion deepening with every step. he walked with purpose, his steps steady and deliberate, until he came to a stop in front of a grave. you stood beside him, your gaze dropping to the headstone as he crouched down, carefully placing the flowers at its base. the name engraved in stone caught your eye, kim jeongsook, a loving daughter, wife, and mother.

your breath hitched as understanding dawned, your heart clenching with an ache that mirrored taehyung’s. he remained crouched, his hands pressed together, eyes closed in a silent prayer. the vulnerability in his posture, the raw emotion etched in his features—it was a side of him you had never seen before. “is this your mother?” you asked quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

he opened his eyes and nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. the softness in his gaze, the fragility in the way he looked at you—it broke something inside of you. you knelt beside him, your fingers reaching out to adjust the flowers he had placed, centering them with care. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was a shared moment of understanding, of unspoken grief and quiet solace.

“she’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. taehyung looked at you then, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “she was,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you held his gaze, the weight of the moment settling over you both. in the quiet of the cemetery, surrounded by the stillness of the say, there was no need for words. the air was charged with unspoken feelings, a connection forged in the shared silence as you both mourned the woman who had given him life.

the drive back home was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t heavy with tension but rather a mutual understanding, a shared exhaustion. the earlier conversation had stripped away the usual banter between you and taehyung, leaving behind something raw and unspoken. he hadn’t said much after the visit to his mother’s grave, and you hadn’t pressed him. some things were better left undisturbed.

as the limo pulled up in front of your apartment complex, you turned to him, offering him a small, appreciative smile. “thanks for the ride, taehyung.” he nodded, the movement slow and deliberate, as if he had a lot on his mind. his eyes, usually so bright and full of mischief, were shadowed with something deeper—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. there was a heaviness in the way he looked at you, a weight in the air between you that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

you lingered for a moment, feeling as though there was something you should say, something that might lift the gloom that hung over him. but the words didn’t come. instead, you stepped out of the limo, the door closing softly behind you with a finality that echoed in the quiet night. as you walked into your complex, the familiar sight of the lobby greeted you, its warmth and comfort doing little to ease the tension knotted in your chest. you were almost to the elevator when the lady at the front desk called your name.

“miss (l/n)!” you turned to face her, noting the envelope in her hand. she held it out to you with a polite smile. “this came for you.”

you took the envelope from her, murmuring a quick thanks before turning away. it was an ordinary envelope, plain white with your name scrawled in a neat, practiced hand. but there was something about it, something that made your heart stutter in your chest, your fingers tremble as they brushed over the paper. you wished you hadn’t looked at it, wished you hadn’t seen the sender’s name neatly written in the corner. but the minute you did, it felt like your world ended all over again. a wedding invitation.

your fingers tightened around the envelope as you took in the names on the card—jungkook and tzuyu. the date was for tomorrow, just a day away. your breath caught in your throat as the realization hit you like a freight train. how long had they been planning this? how many months, or even years, had they been conspiring behind your back?

your world fell silent, the blood rushing in your ears drowning out everything else. it was as if the ground had been ripped out from under you, leaving you weightless and untethered, flailing in a void of disbelief and betrayal. your legs felt heavy, leaden, as you walked to your apartment. each step was an effort, each breath a struggle. by the time you reached your door, your fingers were numb as they fumbled with the key. the door creaked open, revealing the emptiness of your home, a reflection of the hollow ache in your chest.

you stepped inside, the silence of the room pressing down on you, suffocating in its stillness. your maid appeared from the hallway, her usual cheerful demeanor subdued as she noticed the expression on your face. “where’s my mother?” you asked, your voice flat, emotionless.

she hesitated, offering you a sad, almost sympathetic smile. “she left,” she said softly, the words lingering in the air before she added, “again.”

the finality of that word settled in your bones, the realization that you were truly alone sinking deep. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the wedding invitation clutched tightly in your hand as the emptiness of the room mirrored the void within you. all at once, the weight of the day crashed down on you, the betrayal, the loneliness, the heartbreak. you let the envelope slip from your fingers, watching it flutter to the floor as you stood in the silence, the walls of your world closing in around you.

the walls of your room seemed to close in around you, their familiar corners and edges transformed into suffocating reminders that everyone, in the end, leaves. the emptiness inside you mirrored the hollow space in the room, an echo of the losses that had piled up over time. every piece of furniture, every picture on the wall, felt like a ghost of a memory, haunting you with the truth you had tried so hard to escape. you couldn’t stand it anymore—the feeling of everything crashing down on you, the weight of it all pressing you into the ground until you couldn’t breathe.

you needed to go somewhere, anywhere, but there was nowhere that felt safe, nowhere that didn’t remind you of the people who had walked out of your life. the walls were closing in, and you couldn’t stay. with a desperate need to escape, you rushed out the door, letting your legs carry you without direction. the building’s corridors blurred as you sprinted through them, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with thoughts too chaotic to grasp.

the sky had opened up, and the rain was falling in torrents, but you didn’t care. the cold droplets pelted your skin, drenching you to the bone, but you kept running. the water soaked through your clothes, plastering them to your skin, but still, you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, splashing through puddles, the rain mingling with the tears that streamed down your face, but you didn’t care. you ran until your breath burned in your lungs, until the world around you was nothing but a blur of gray and cold. you ran until you reached the only place that felt like it might offer some solace, the only place you knew to go.

taehyung’s hotel loomed in front of you, its grand entrance a stark contrast to the storm raging outside. you stumbled through the doors, oblivious to the stares of the patrons who watched you, a soaking, disheveled figure who had burst into their calm, orderly world. but their judgment didn’t matter. nothing mattered except getting to him.

you headed straight for the elevator, your steps unsteady but determined. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a chaotic storm that didn’t stop until the elevator doors slid open on his floor. you stepped out, and suddenly, you couldn’t move. because there he was, standing right in front of you, as if he had been waiting for you all along.

his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw the sympathy etched in his features as he took in your drenched appearance. there was no judgment in his gaze, only concern, and something deeper—something that made the tears well up in your eyes all over again.

your hand trembled as you raised it, the crumpled wedding invitation clutched in your fingers. “this and my mom,” you began, your voice breaking, “she just, she left and i—” the words failed you, your throat constricting as the weight of everything pressed down on you once more.

but before you could fall apart completely, taehyung was there, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. his suit was immaculate, but he didn’t care as the rain from your clothes soaked into it. he just held you, his warmth seeping into your frozen body, his arms a barrier against the storm both inside and out.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. the tears came in a rush, followed by gut-wrenching sobs that shook your entire body. you cried into his chest, clutching at his suit as if it were the only thing anchoring you to this world. all the pain, all the hurt that had built up inside you, came pouring out in waves that you couldn’t control. his arms tightened around you, his hand smoothing over your hair in a comforting gesture as he held you close. of all the things he had seen and expected of you, this was the last of them all.

taehyung guided you down the hallway with a steady hand on the small of your back, his touch gentle but insistent, as if he knew that you needed the support to keep moving forward. his silence was a comfort, a balm to the rawness inside you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his presence, drawing strength from the warmth of his body beside you. the world outside was still a blur of rain and shadows, but here, in this narrow space, it was just the two of you, and that was enough.

when you reached his door, he paused, glancing at you as if to make sure you were still with him. then he unlocked it, the click of the key in the lock loud in the quiet hallway. the door swung open, and you stepped inside, expecting the same warmth you’d found in his arms, the same comfort you’d desperately sought in your flight from the cold. but that warmth vanished the moment you saw her.

she was disheveled, her hair a tangled mess and her clothes—or lack thereof—a stark reminder of what taehyung’s life was like outside of the moments he spent with you. she was wearing one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely off her shoulders, and she was gathering her things with a hurried, almost guilty air. you didn’t know her, not personally at least, but it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. she didn’t sneer at you or glare as she might have in some cruel twist of fate. she just slipped past you both, her eyes downcast as if she didn’t want to meet your gaze. she was gone as quickly as she appeared, but you remained frozen, your eyes glued to the spot where she had stood, her presence lingering like an unwanted ghost.

you didn’t know what to feel. should you be angry? hurt? disappointed? what were you supposed to expect from him? after all, you weren’t his girlfriend, and he wasn’t your boyfriend. there was no label, no commitment, nothing to give you the right to feel anything at all. but you did, and it hurt. taehyung noticed the way you stared at the empty space, his own expression faltering as he tried to gauge what you were thinking. he stepped closer, his voice softer than usual as he asked, “you aren’t mad, are you?”

you forced yourself to look at him, to meet his eyes even though it felt like shards of glass were digging into your heart. then you mustered one of your smiles, the kind that never quite reached your eyes, the kind that was more for his benefit than yours. the shift in your demeanor seemed to shock him, his brows knitting together in confusion. “why would i be mad?” you replied, your voice light and airy, as if the sight of another woman leaving his room hadn’t just shattered something deep inside you. you turned and handed him the drenched wedding invitation, the paper crumpled and ruined by the rain but still legible. It was a tangible reminder of the life you were supposed to have, the life that had been ripped away from you.

you walked around the room, your gaze flitting over the furniture, the decorations, anything to avoid looking at him. “you’re free to do collect as many diseases as you please,” you added, the words slipping from your lips with a hint of bitterness that you couldn’t quite suppress. he scoffed, a sound of disbelief that cut through the thick air between you. “i liked you better when you were crying,” he muttered, his tone defensive, almost wounded.

but you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. instead, you let the weight of everything you’d seen, everything you’d felt, sink deep into your bones, and for once, you allowed yourself to acknowledge the truth. you weren’t mad because you had no right to be. but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. and that didn’t mean you wouldn’t remember this moment, the moment when everything you thought you could rely on came crashing down around you once again.

changing in his bedroom felt like stepping into another world, one that was as foreign as it was unnerving. the room was dimly lit, the shadows long and dark, and everything carried his scent—a mix of expensive cologne, faint traces of smoke, and something uniquely him. you felt a strange sense of vulnerability as you rummaged through his closet, searching for something to wear. when your fingers brushed against one of his shirts, a simple white button-down that was far too large for you, you hesitated. it felt surreal, putting it on, almost degrading, knowing how many women had done the same. but unlike them, you had no choice. all your belongings were back home, in a place you couldn’t bear to return to, so you had to make do with what you had.

as you slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against your skin, you couldn’t shake the discomfort that gnawed at you. it was as if the shirt was a reminder of how little you belonged here, of how temporary this moment was. the sleeves were too long, the hem hanging down to your thighs, but it was better than staying in your rain-soaked clothes. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and the sight made you pause. there you were, standing in taehyung’s bedroom, wearing his shirt, looking every bit the part of someone who had been broken down by life’s cruelty.

you sighed, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you, and stepped out into the living room. the first thing you noticed was the faint scent of smoke, followed by the sight of taehyung lounging on the couch, a joint between his lips. the soft glow of the lighter flickered against his face as he took a drag, his eyes half-lidded with the calm that only the drugs could bring.

you scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “you’re no different from a crack addict,” you muttered, your tone laced with disdain.

he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, he was taken aback. not by your words, but by the sight of you in his shirt. there was something in his gaze, something raw and unguarded, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. it wasn’t lust, not exactly. it was more like wonder, like the sight of you had caught him off guard in the best way possible.

to his surprise, you walked over to the couch and plopped down beside him, close enough that your legs brushed against his. without a word, you snatched the joint from his fingers and took a drag of your own. the smoke burned as it filled your lungs, but it was a welcome distraction, a numbing agent to the chaos inside your head. taehyung chuckled to himself, the sound low and warm. “why’d you come all the way here?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

you exhaled, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling, and passed the joint back to him. “i assume you saw the invitation,” you said, your tone flat. he nodded, taking another drag before answering. “i got one of my own,” he admitted, pausing as if debating whether to say more. “jungkook even drew a smiley face on mine.”

you scoffed, the sound bitter. “are you touched?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. he feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his heart. “truly,” he replied, his tone matching yours.

a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faltered as the weight of everything crashed down on you once again. “mom left again,” you said, the words heavy, as if each one cost you a piece of yourself. taehyung turned to you, his expression softening as he passed the joint back. “where’d she go?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you shrugged, the movement small, defeated. if only you knew where she had gone, where she always went when she left you behind. “probably back to dad,” you muttered, taking another drag. the smoke filled the silence, thick and suffocating. “she always says she’ll never leave, until she does. just like everybody else.”

you passed the joint back to him, your gaze dropping to the floor as you spoke. you didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, didn’t want to acknowledge the truth in your words. it was easier this way, easier to believe that everyone would leave eventually. it hurt less when you expected it. taehyung studied your face, his eyes tracing every line, every feature, as if he was committing them to memory. his expression softened further, his voice barely above a whisper when he said, “not everybody.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, you saw something there—something soft, something fragile, like a promise he wanted to make but couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. the softness in his eyes looked like a silent betrayal after what you had seen earlier. you couldn’t let yourself love him, couldn’t afford any more losses, so you stayed quiet.

the silence between you and taehyung was thick, almost suffocating, as the effects of the joint began to take hold. the world around you seemed to slow, the edges of reality blurring as the haze settled in. the tension that had coiled in your chest earlier started to unwind, loosening with each passing second. it was quiet—too quiet—yet neither of you felt the need to fill the space with words. you were both content to sit there, side by side, sharing the same air, the same smoke, letting the quietness cradle you.

but then, the stillness was shattered by the sudden, shrill ring of your phone. the sound cut through the calm like a knife, making your heart skip a beat. you froze, your eyes snapping to the screen as it lit up with the caller id. taehyung, lost in his own thoughts, didn’t seem fazed by the noise. he didn’t even glance your way, his gaze fixed on some distant point. but you—you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen. jungkook was calling you.

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to do. the sight of his name, bright and clear, sent a wave of emotions crashing over you—confusion, dread, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, and with trembling fingers, you picked up the phone. pressing it to your ear, you tried to maintain some semblance of composure as you answered, your voice strained.

“what do you want?” you asked, the words sharper than you intended, laced with a bitterness that came from deep within. jungkook’s voice on the other line was soft, almost slurred, and you could hear the telltale signs of alcohol in his tone. he was drunk, or close to it, and the vulnerability in his voice was palpable. “i made a mistake,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “you’re the girl i want to spend my life with. i’ll do anything—anything—to have you back.”

your eyes widened, your heart pounding in your chest. you were at a loss for words, stunned into silence by the confession. this was jungkook, the one who had left you, the one who had torn your heart out without a second thought. and now, here he was, asking for a second chance, pleading for you to come back to him. it didn’t make sense. mone of it made sense.

the astonishment on your face didn’t go unnoticed by taehyung. he turned to you, his attention now fully on the conversation you were having. his eyes narrowed as he took in your shocked expression, and without warning, he snatched the phone from your grasp. you protested, your voice rising in alarm, but taehyung was quicker. he held the phone away from you, pressing it to his own ear instead.

“never call her again,” he said, his voice low and menacing, before he hung up the call without another word. the finality of the action left you reeling, staring at him in disbelief.

“what was that for, you asshole?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and confusion. you raised your hand to snatch your phone back, but taehyung was ready for you. he caught your wrist mid-air and, with a swift tug, pulled you toward him. the force of it made you stumble, and you fell against his chest, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

“were you really considering it?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “going back to him?”

you didn’t know how to respond. the truth was, you didn’t know what you were considering. jungkook’s call had thrown you off balance, and your mind was still struggling to catch up. taehyung’s grip on you tightened, and when you looked up at him, you saw something in his eyes—something almost like hurt.

“you were, weren’t you?” he pressed, his voice quieter now, laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

you shook your head, trying to pull away from him. “you have nothing to do with it,” you said, your voice firmer now. You needed to get away from him, away from the intensity of his gaze. he scoffed, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. “i have everything to do with it.”

“no,” you snapped, finally breaking free from his grip. you took a step back, putting distance between you. your heart was racing, your thoughts a tangled mess. “i’ll die before i become someone’s toy. don’t even think about it. i’m not my mother, so don’t think i’ll let you do this.”

he stared at you, stunned, taken aback by the force of your words. the room felt colder, the air between you charged with tension. he let go of your wrist, the hurt in his eyes deepening as he processed what you had said. “out of all people,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought you’d see me that way too.”

your voice shook as you replied, “prove me wrong, then.” you paused, your heart lodged in your throat as you added, “three words. say them, and i’m yours.”

his eyes lit up, a spark of hope flickering in the depths of his gaze. he opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought he would say them. you could see it in his eyes, the struggle, the want. but as the silence stretched on, you realized the truth. he wanted to say them, you knew he did, because he meant it. but the thought of loving just to lose—of facing that pain again—was too much for him. the words died on his lips, the weight of fear holding them back. you nodded quietly, your heart sinking as the realization settled in. you turned away from him, moving back to the couch, your movements slow and deliberate. you sat down, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to spill.

taehyung didn’t say anything as he watched you, the room growing impossibly still. after a long moment, he turned away, retreating to his room without another word. the door closed softly behind him, and with that, you knew you had your answer. the silence that followed was deafening, and you let it envelop you, suffocating and cold. there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do.

you woke up with a weight in your chest, a heaviness that seemed to anchor you to the bed, pulling you deeper into the sheets. the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, but it did little to brighten the darkness that lingered in your mind. the first thing you noticed was the absence of taehyung. the space beside you was cold, untouched, as if he had never been there at all. your heart sank further at the realization, the memory of last night flooding back in a wave of regret and confusion.

you sat up slowly, your eyes sweeping across the room in search of some sign, something that might explain his absence. but the only thing that caught your eye was the unfamiliar box sitting on the table across the room. it stood out against the familiarity of his things, a stark reminder that something was amiss. curiosity piqued, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to it, each step feeling heavier than the last.

the box was simple, plain, but it had a note attached to it, a small piece of paper that fluttered slightly as you picked it up. you unfolded the note, your eyes scanning the words written in taehyung’s familiar scrawl. “if he’s really what you want, tell him before it’s too late.”

your heart twisted painfully at the words, the implication behind them cutting deep. you clenched the note in your hand, your fingers trembling as you struggled to make sense of it. what did he mean? was this his way of saying goodbye, of pushing you toward something you didn’t even know if you wanted? taking a deep breath, you turned your attention back to the box, lifting the lid with tentative fingers. inside, neatly folded and pristine, was a dress—a pale pink, soft and delicate, the kind of dress that would be worn to a wedding. It was new, the fabric crisp and clean, untouched by time. you stared at it, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. you didn’t want to go, didn’t want to face whatever awaited you there, but you knew you had to. you had to prove you were strong, if not for anyone else, then for yourself.

you had spent your entire life proving your strength to everyone around you, showing them that you could endure, that you could survive whatever life threw at you. but deep down, you knew you had never truly proven it to yourself. this was just another test, another challenge that you had to face head-on, no matter how much it hurt.

with a resigned sigh, you slipped the dress on, the fabric cool against your skin. you didn’t bother with makeup, didn’t feel the need to present yourself as anything other than what you were—a woman who was tired, who was worn down by the weight of her own choices, but who would still stand tall, no matter what. your appearance alone would be enough; there was no need to mask the reality of what you were feeling.

as you left taehyung’s apartment, the note still crumpled in your hand, you hailed a cab. the ride to the venue was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the words he had left you with. “if he’s really what you want, tell him before it’s too late.” the sentence echoed in your mind, over and over, like a mantra that you couldn’t shake. but you knew the truth, the truth that taehyung couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see. jungkook wasn’t what you wanted. he wasn’t what you needed. what you needed was something you couldn’t have, something that was just out of reach, always slipping through your fingers like sand.

the venue was as grand as you had expected, filled with the usual trappings of a wedding—flowers, lights, people dressed in their finest. but as you stepped inside, you felt a hollowness in your chest, a sense of detachment from the celebration around you. you were there, physically present, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the confusion of your own thoughts.

you didn’t drink. you didn’t speak. you just listened, your eyes dull as you watched the festivities unfold. the happy couple moved through the crowd, smiles bright and genuine, and you couldn’t help but wonder how things had gotten to this point. how had you ended up here, in this place, feeling so lost and alone? Where had it all gone wrong? your eyes drifted through the crowd, searching for something—someone. but taehyung was nowhere to be found. the realization brought a fresh wave of pain, a reminder that you were truly alone in this moment. and then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, your gaze locked with jungkook’s from across the room.

he was standing by the bar, his eyes wide and filled with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or sorrow. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but he didn’t. he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Instead, he forced himself to look away, turning back to his drink, leaving you standing there with the weight of a thousand unsaid words between you.

you let him go, let the moment pass without reaching out. you knew it would happen this way, had known from the moment you saw his name on your phone screen. there was nothing left to say, nothing that could change the course you were on. so you let it be, standing alone in the midst of the celebration, the note still crumpled in your hand as the world moved on around you.

the ceremony had ended, the final vows exchanged, the last kiss shared. the room slowly emptied as the guests filed out, leaving you standing alone in the midst of the decorated hall. you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone—not to tzuyu, not to jungkook, not to anyone. the silence that surrounded you felt heavy, oppressive, but you welcomed it, letting it wrap around you like a comforting shroud as you walked out of the venue.

the pain gnawed at you, deep and unrelenting, but the sharpest ache came from the absence of taehyung. he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t been there to witness the ceremony or to stand by your side as you struggled through it. his final act of love had been to let you go, to give you the space to decide whether you wanted to be with jungkook. but in the end, you hadn’t been able to follow through. you couldn’t find it within yourself to go to jungkook, to accept what he was offering. you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t what you truly wanted.

you didn’t know where to go next—whether you should head back to your own place or return to taehyung’s apartment. but something drew you to his place, a pull that you couldn’t resist. the walk there was long, each step heavy and labored, as if your legs were weighed down by the burden of your thoughts. when you finally reached his door, your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

a sick feeling settled in your stomach as you stood outside his door, expecting to find something that would shatter you even further. maybe a girl, maybe two, maybe some other reminder that you were too late, that he had already moved on. but when you finally mustered the courage to open the door, you found nothing. the apartment was empty, eerily silent except for the faint sounds coming from taehyung’s room. you hesitated, straining to hear what was going on behind his closed door. the noises were muffled, but they weren’t what you had feared. they weren’t the sounds of moans or laughter; they were something else entirely. steeling yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

taehyung sat at the foot of his bed, his body hunched over, shaking with silent sobs. his hands clutched a photograph, his fingers trembling as he held it close to his chest. for a moment, you couldn’t register what you were seeing, your mind struggling to make sense of the situation. but as you took a closer look, your blood ran cold. it was a photograph of his mother.

the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and before you knew it, you were rushing to him, your arms wrapping around him as if by instinct. he didn’t hesitate, didn’t push you away; instead, he held on to you with a desperate, almost frantic grip, his sobs wracking his body as he buried his face in your shoulder.

you let him cry, your own shock giving way to a deep, aching sadness. the sound of his tears broke something inside you, a raw, unfiltered pain that you hadn’t been prepared for. you could feel his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he clung to you, as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. tears of your own began to fall, silent and unstoppable, as you held him tighter, offering whatever comfort you could.

in between his sobs, his voice broke through, raw and choked with emotion. “did you tell him?”

you knew he was referring to the note, the one he had left with the dress, urging you to make a decision about jungkook. you shook your head, your hand coming up to gently stroke his hair as you whispered, “no, no, i didn’t.” his sobs quieted down, his grip on you loosening slightly, but he didn’t let go. “he isn’t the one i want,” you continued, your voice soft but firm. the words hung in the air between you, a truth that you hadn’t fully realized until that moment.

the trembling in his body gradually subsided, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat, a mixture of vulnerability and something deeper, something you had always hoped to see in his eyes but had never dared to believe was there.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words echoed in your ears, reverberating through your entire being.

you blinked, trying to process what he had just said, but before you could respond, he brought his thumbs up to brush away the tears from your cheeks. “i love you,” he repeated, this time with more certainty, more conviction.

it was no use—you couldn’t keep from crying. the tears spilled over once again, but this time they weren’t just tears of sadness. they were tears of relief, of joy, of finally hearing the words you had longed to hear for so long. “i love you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking as the emotions overwhelmed you. it was your turn to sob, your body shaking with the force of everything you had been holding back. and this time, it was taehyung who held you, who wrapped his arms around you and didn’t let go. he held you as if he would never let go, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

that was all it took. three words, eight letters, and he was yours.

✧.*

a/n: off-brand gossip girl