not without telling you. he was meticulous. if traffic made him five minutes late, he'd apologize. if a meeting ran long, he'd text. if plans changed, you always knew.

tonight there was…nothing.

arin yawned so hard her whole body leaned forward.

you immediately looked over.

"sleepy?"

she rubbed both eyes, “a little."

you smiled softly, “come on."

she held both arms up dramatically, “carry me."

you laughed.

"you're getting too big for that."

"no i'm not."

"you absolutely are."

"pretty nanny..."

you sighed dramatically, “fine."

she giggled triumphantly as you scooped her into your arms.

"i win."

"you always win."

"i know."

you carried her upstairs, her cheek resting against your shoulder. she smelled like strawberry shampoo. you tucked her into bed, smoothing her blanket over her little body.

"will daddy say goodnight?"

your heart pinched.

"he'll kiss your forehead when he gets home."

"...promise?"

you hesitated, then nodded anyway.

"promise."

she accepted that immediately. children were so trusting.

"night, pretty nanny."

"goodnight, sweetheart."

you brushed hair away from her face.

within minutes, she was asleep. you quietly pulled her bedroom door almost closed before making your way downstairs again.

the house felt...wrong.

too quiet.

too empty.

you glanced toward the driveway through the front window.

still dark.

11:26.

your irritation had slowly transformed into something heavier: worry.

what if something happened?

what if he'd fallen asleep behind the wheel?

what if—

headlights.

you shot up from the couch so fast your blanket fell onto the floor.

a black sedan slowly rolled into the driveway.

your shoulders sagged with relief.

then immediately tightened again.

because the car wasn't moving.

it sat there for several seconds. too many seconds. your brows furrowed. finally, the passenger’s door opened. jungkook climbed out.

at least he tried to.

he stumbled against the side of the car, one hand catching himself on the roof before he laughed quietly to himself. your eyes widened.

he was drunk. very drunk.

he eventually managed to close the car door, though it took him two tries. his tie hung loose around his neck. his dress shirt was untucked on one side. his hair, normally so neat, had been completely destroyed by his own hands.

he looked adorably disheveled.

you did not find it adorable. you marched toward the front door. the second you opened it, cool night air swept inside. 

jungkook looked up.

his face lit up immediately.

"oh." he smiled. it was a slow, sleepy smile, "hi."

you crossed your arms.

he blinked, “h-hi?”

your jaw clenched. “do you know what time it is?"

he frowned thoughtfully, “night?"

your eye twitched.

"it's almost eleven-thirty."

he looked genuinely surprised.

"is it?"

"yes."

"huh."

he seemed fascinated by that information. you were not.

"you didn't call."

he stared at you. he slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and looked at the screen.

"i forgot."

your jaw dropped.

"you forgot?"

he nodded once.

"i think so."

"jungkook."

he looked at you with those soft, glassy eyes.

"yeah?"

your frustration had been simmering for nearly three hours. now it finally boiled over.

"do you have any idea how worried i was? how long your daughter waited?"

his smile disappeared.

"she kept asking where you were."

silence.

"i didn't know if you'd gotten into an accident."

you took another step toward him.

"i didn't know if i should call hospitals."

his eyes slowly widened.

"i didn't know if i should call your parents."

your voice cracked despite yourself.

"i had no idea where you were."

the silence stretched between you. jungkook stared at your face. really stared. you looked upset. not professionally concerned, not politely disappointed, upset.

because of him. you'd been worried.

his heart, dulled by alcohol, somehow felt everything even more intensely.

"you waited up?"

you blinked, “of course i waited up."

he swallowed, “for me?"

you looked at him like he'd asked the stupidest question imaginable.

"yes, for you."

something inside him melted completely. he took one slow, unsteady step toward you. his voice came out quieter now.

"you cared about me."

it wasn't a question. it sounded like wonder. like no one had ever waited up for him before. you sighed, every ounce of anger mixing with relief.

"yes,” you rubbed your forehead, “i was worried."

he just stood there looking at you. his cheeks pink from alcohol. his eyes impossibly soft. he looked so happy that someone had cared enough to be angry.

you let out a long breath through your nose.

"come inside."

jungkook blinked.

"...am i in trouble?"

"yes."

he frowned like he was genuinely disappointed in himself.

"okay."

he followed you obediently, though "followed" was generous. he drifted. stumbled once. caught himself on the wall. you sighed again before stepping closer.

"give me your arm."

he looked at you. then immediately did exactly as you asked.

his sleeve was cool beneath your fingers as you steadied him. he was heavy. solid. his shoulder brushed yours with every uneven step.

"you're really warm," he mumbled.

"that's because i'm alive."

he smiled lazily.

"you’re so smart."

"don't flatter me."

you guided him into the living room, easing him down onto the couch. he practically collapsed into the cushions with a quiet groan.

"stay."

he looked up at you.

"where would i go?"

"good point."

you disappeared into the kitchen. your hands were shaking more than you wanted them to. you'd been terrified.

now that he was home and safe, all that fear had turned into pure irritation. you filled a glass with water, grabbed two pain relievers from the cabinet, then walked back into the living room.

he hadn't moved. he was sitting exactly where you'd left him, elbows on his knees, quietly watching the floor. you held the glass out.

"drink."

without a word, he took it.

his fingers brushed yours.

you pulled your hand away almost immediately.

he noticed. of course he noticed.

he took a slow drink before setting the glass on the coffee table, “thank you."

"you're welcome."

it was short. polite. distant.

the room fell quiet. he studied you for a long moment. his thoughts, softened and loosened by the alcohol, wandered somewhere they probably shouldn't.

"you've changed."

your hands froze where you were straightening a throw blanket.

"what?"

he looked up at you.

"you don't talk to me anymore."

your stomach dropped.

"i talk to you."

"not like before."

you looked away.

"you're drunk."

"i am."

he nodded thoughtfully.

"but i'm right."

you busied yourself collecting one of arin's crayons from beneath the coffee table.

"you should take those."

you pointed toward the pain relievers. he ignored them.

"you used to be so friendly."

silence.

"you used to smile at me."

you swallowed.

"i still smile."

he shook his head slowly.

"not the same."

your chest tightened. he wasn't supposed to notice. you'd worked so hard making sure he didn't notice. he leaned back against the couch. his voice was quieter now.

"did i do something?"

you laughed softly. too softly.

"no.”

another lie. he frowned.

"then why does it still feel like you're hiding?"

you stared at the floor.

"you're imagining things."

"i'm not."

he knew you.

at least he'd started to.

you'd been sunlight when you'd first walked into his house. now it felt like clouds followed you whenever he entered the room.

you still laughed with arin. still hugged her. still sang while helping her brush her teeth.

but with him, everything was measured.

careful. professional. it hurt more than he expected.

"is it because of yoonseo?"

your head snapped toward him. he saw it. the tiny change in your expression.

there.

that was it. he let out a slow breath.

"i fucking knew it."

you opened your mouth. closed it again. he rubbed tiredly at his face.

"nothing happened."

you stayed quiet. he gave a small, humorless laugh.

"i guess from your perspective,” he looked around the empty house, “it probably looked like we were..."

he couldn't even finish the sentence. his face scrunched up in what could only be interpreted as disgust.

"...we're not."

another silence settled. then he spoke again.

not because he planned to.

because alcohol had stripped away every instinct telling him to keep his personal life to himself.

"we weren't together very long.”

you looked at him despite yourself. his eyes stayed fixed on the coffee table.

"dating, i mean. less than six months."

you hadn't expected that.

"we were young. dumb. horny. reckless. she got pregnant."

he smiled bitterly, “our parents thought there was only one acceptable solution."

his fingers turned the empty glass slowly.

"a shotgun wedding." he laughed once, “everyone congratulated us." his smile disappeared.

you watched as he took in a deep breath.

"i don't think either of us actually understood what we were promising."

you listened quietly.

he wasn't looking at you anymore. it was almost like he was talking to himself.

"she didn't want any of it."

he paused.

"what do you mean?" you asked.

"she didn't want america." 

another pause.

"she didn't want to be somebody's wife."

his thumb traced circles against the side of the glass.

"she definitely didn't want to become jeon yoonseo."

his voice cracked with tired amusement.

"she hated changing her name. i still don’t get why the fuck she did it." he laughed dryly.

you stayed perfectly still.

he broke the silence, "she missed home."

he looked toward the dark windows.

"she missed korea. she missed the life she'd planned."

he was quiet for several seconds.

"i kept thinking she'd settle in."

a faint shake of his head, “i kept thinking if i worked harder..."

he stopped himself. his lip trembled slightly.

"that was stupid."

you'd never heard him speak like this before. so openly. so honestly.

"when arin was two,” he swallowed.

"she left."

the room seemed to get even quieter.

"she went back to busan for a while.”

his voice wasn't angry anymore. just tired.

"eventually she remarried."

you blinked.

"she has a husband now."

he nodded once.

"in seoul."

another pause.

"they're building the life she always wanted. it just wasn't with us."

your heart broke. not because you pitied him. because of the way he said us. not me.

us.

he wasn't mourning a marriage. he was mourning the family arin never got to have.

"she doesn't come very often," he continued quietly, “actually, she never comes.”

he finally looked at you. his eyes were glassy, though you couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or something else.

"she hasn't really been a mother in a long time. arin still gets excited. every single time."

he laughed under his breath, "she still thinks maybe this visit will be different."

you felt tears sting your own eyes. he looked down at his hands.

"i don't tell her not to hope."

another long silence.

"i don't know if that's the right thing."

he shook his head once.

"but i can't be the one who takes that away from her. i don’t have the heart.”

you sat down in the armchair across from him. the anger you'd been carrying all night had quietly dissolved into something else. something gentler. something that hurt.

jungkook looked up at you.

"i just didn't want you thinking..."

he struggled for the words.

"that there was still something between us.”

his eyes met yours, “there isn't." his voice was steady despite everything, “there hasn't been for years."

the room fell silent again. outside, rain had begun tapping softly against the windows.

inside, neither of you spoke.

for the first time in days, the wall between you felt just a little less solid.

you stood there for a long moment.

the house had gone completely quiet. the only sounds were the rain against the windows and the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.

he looked so tired.

not the kind of tired that sleep fixed. it settled somewhere deep inside a person. it was something that could only be cured with the comfort of another person.

you hated that you still noticed. you still cared.

slowly, you crossed the room and lowered yourself onto the opposite end of the couch. you left plenty of space between you.

he noticed anyway.

his shoulders relaxed just enough for you to see it.

neither of you spoke. he stared down at his hands.

you stared at the rain. your heart hurt. now you knew. you knew why yoonseo looked at him the way she did. you knew why arin clung to him so tightly. you knew why he'd looked so lost all those mornings. you hadn't imagined the loneliness, it had been real.

"i'm sorry," you whispered.

the words felt painfully small. he looked over.

“for what?"

you shook your head.

"everything."

you smiled, but it wasn't much of one.

"i'm sorry things turned out that way."

he watched your face quietly. there it was again. that wall. you were still sitting beside him. still speaking softly. somehow you felt farther away than ever.

you glanced toward the front door.

"i should probably head home."

his head snapped up.

"already?"

you nodded.

"it's late."

you started to stand, “i'll see you on monday."

before you'd even straightened completely—

"don't."

his voice was quiet, but immediate. your fingers tightened around the strap of your purse.

"what?"

he looked almost startled by his own words.

then, just as quietly:

"...don't go yet."

your heart skipped.

he rubbed a hand over his face.

"please."

that word almost undid you.

you looked at him for a long moment.

he looked small. not physically. emotionally, like asking you to stay had cost him something.

you slowly sat back down.

"...okay."

he let out a breath so relieved it almost sounded painful.

"thank you."

another silence settled. this one wasn't uncomfortable. just fragile. he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"i don't know what i'm doing anymore."

his voice was barely above a whisper. you looked over at him. he laughed quietly. without humor.

"every day i feel like i'm pretending."

his hands rubbed together absentmindedly.

"i know how to be her dad… i think. but i don't know how to be everything.”

your chest tightened.

"i don't know how to be two parents. i don't know how to be her mother. i don't know how to brush little girl's hair properly."

a sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “i still can't do those stupid pigtails."

you remembered. one always sat lower than the other. arin never seemed to mind. he did.

"i don't know what clothes she's supposed to wear together. she tells me purple and red don't match."

your lips twitched despite yourself, “they don't."

he looked at you.

"see? i wouldn't know."

he looked back down again, “she asks me questions i can't answer."

his voice had become so quiet you almost had to lean closer to hear him.

"about growing up. about being a girl. about things she would've asked her mom."

he swallowed.

"and i just..."

his jaw tightened.

"i'm trying."

the last two words nearly broke you.

because he wasn't making excuses. he wasn't asking for sympathy.

you looked at your hands. you wanted to tell him he was doing an incredible job. 

you wanted to tell him arin adored him. that she felt safe because of him. the words rose all the way to your throat, then stopped. 

the wall.

you'd built it for a reason.

you stayed quiet. he noticed. of course he noticed.

"then you came."

his voice pulled your attention back to him. he was looking at the floor again, almost like he was embarrassed to say any of this.

"and everything got easier."

your breath caught.

"not because you did anything huge."

he shook his head.

"it was all the little things. a lunch packed without me asking. a permission slip i forgot. remembering she doesn't like strawberries touching the syrup."

he laughed softly.

"teaching me how to use fabric softener."

your eyes burned.

"you started worrying about me. nobody worries about me."

your vision blurred.

"you'd tell me to eat. you'd tell me to sleep. you'd fuss if i skipped breakfast."

he looked over at you then. his eyes were glassy.

"it felt..."

he hesitated.

"nice."

your throat tightened painfully. he looked away again.

"for the first time since the divorce..."

his voice faltered, “coming home didn't feel empty.”

you couldn't breathe. he continued anyway.

words spilling out because he'd held them in too long.

"arin laughs more. she smiles all the time. she asks if you're coming over before she asks what we're doing that day."

his smile trembled, “she's happier."

he looked down at his hands again.

"and so am i."

silence. the rain outside grew heavier. he inhaled shakily.

"i got used to being around you."

your eyes closed for just a second. he had no idea what he was doing to you.

"then, you started looking at me like i was just your boss."

he finally met your eyes. there were tears there now. he didn't even seem to realize they were falling.

"i know i don't have any right to ask for more,” his voice cracked, “i know."

another tear slipped down his cheek.

"but it feels like—“

he looked away before finishing, “it feels like i'm losing you."

your heart shattered. he wiped quickly at his face, frustrated, “s-sorry.” he let out another laugh. completely broken, "i've had too much to drink."

you couldn't do it anymore. you couldn't sit there and watch him cry from the other end of the couch. before you could think better of it, you moved.

just a few inches.

not much.

but enough.

your hand hovered uncertainly before gently resting over his.

he froze.

your own eyes filled with tears.

"you're not losing me," you whispered.

the words escaped before the wall could stop them. his fingers instinctively curled around yours. not tightly. just enough to hold on, like someone afraid to let go of the only steady thing they'd found in a very long time.

neither of you said anything after that.

you didn't have to.

the silence between you had changed.

not into a confession.

not into romance spoken aloud.

just two lonely people sitting close enough to remind each other that neither of them had to carry everything alone for one quiet, rain soaked night.

his thumb brushed against the back of your hand without either of you realizing it.

the contact was featherlight.

he stared at your joined hands for a long time.

"i'm sorry."

you frowned, “for what?"

he laughed quietly through his tears.

"this."

he gestured vaguely toward himself.

"i don't usually…" his voice failed him.

"i'm usually better than this."

you looked at him gently. "better?"

he nodded, "at keeping it together."

he laughed again.

"i've spent years pretending i'm fine."

you shook your head, “you don't have to pretend all the time."

he looked up at you. really looked at you.

there was no judgment in your face, just concern. the same concern you'd walked through his front door with months ago. the same concern you'd tried so hard to hide these past two weeks.

he smiled sadly.

"why do i look weak?"

you blinked, “you don't."

he shook his head.

"in front of everyone else, i know exactly who i'm supposed to be. the ceo. the father. the machine. the one with the answers.”

he looked back at you with impossibly gentle eyes, “in front of you..."

his fingers tightened around yours ever so slightly, “i am weak."

your breath caught.

“i don't feel like i have to keep pretending."

the words settled over both of you.

you couldn't speak. he wasn't asking you to save him. he wasn't asking you to love him. he was telling you something much scarier: that he trusted you.

you felt your eyes sting.

"that's not weakness," you whispered.

he smiled.

"maybe not."

another quiet silence passed. he watched your face the way someone might watch a sunrise, like they were afraid it would disappear if they blinked.

"i've been trying to figure out what changed. after the play, “his voice was thoughtful now. “i kept thinking i'd said something. or done something. i replayed that whole day."

he let out a slow breath, “i'm sorry."

you shook your head immediately, “you don't have to apologize."

"i do. i saw you leave. i knew you were disappointed."

he laughed softly at himself.

"and i still let you get into that car without explaining anything."

your vision blurred.

"i thought—“

you stopped yourself. he waited patiently.

"i thought i was getting attached where i shouldn't."

his heart cracked. you still weren't talking about yourself. you were apologizing. even now.

"you've never been somewhere you shouldn't."

the words came out before he could stop them. your eyes lifted to his.

he held your gaze, “not once."

the room felt impossibly small. rain continued tapping against the windows. the clock ticked quietly somewhere in the house. neither of you moved. finally, he smiled.

he looked at you with an openness that made your chest ache, “i miss you a lot."

the confession wasn't dramatic. it wasn't passionate. if anything, it sounded almost confused. like he'd only just realized how true it was.

"i miss being able to sit next to you without feeling like you're trying to disappear."

you could no longer hold the wall together.

it had taken days to build and hours to maintain. one quiet, honest man had dismantled it in minutes.

before you realized what you were doing, your hand came up.

you held his hand between both of yours. not because you were thinking. because your heart got there first. his eyes closed. just for a second.

he looked at your hands wrapped around his like they were something precious.

something he didn't deserve to hold.

his thumb slowly brushed against your knuckles again. it was almost reverent.

"you're so kind."

you smiled sadly.

"you're drunk."

"i know."

he nodded once.

"but i've known that for a while."

you tilted your head.

"known what?"

his eyes searched your face. they were glassy. soft. completely defenseless.

"you're kind."

he laughed quietly.

"too kind."

you felt your cheeks warm.

"that's just the alcohol talking—“

"no."

his answer came immediately.

"that's me."

he leaned back against the couch cushions with a tired sigh. his gaze never really left you.

"i keep trying not to look at you."

your heart skipped.

"mr. jeon."

"see?" he smiled, “you call me that now."

your stomach twisted. he noticed everything.

"you used to always call me jungkook."

your lips parted. you hadn't even realized you'd stopped. he gave another sleepy laugh.

"i miss hearing my name."

you looked away, “you're going to be embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow."

"probably,” he didn't sound concerned. “but i still mean it."

you shook your head gently.

"that's not how being drunk works."

"isn't it?" he asked, “doesn't it just make people say the things they were already thinking?"

you didn't answer. you couldn't. he watched you for another long moment.

then, so quietly you almost missed it—

"i think i'm in love with you."

the room stopped. your heart slammed against your ribs.

he'd said it so simply.

like he'd just admitted the weather was nice.

your eyes widened.

for one impossible second, everything inside you cracked open.

then reality rushed back in. he was drunk. very drunk. he'd had far too much to drink. he was exhausted. heartbroken. overwhelmed.

people said strange things when they were drunk.

your mom always joked that drunk people would tell strangers they loved them in bathroom lines. 

this was that. it had to be.

your expression softened, “you're really drunk, jungkook."

he frowned, “i am."

"let's get you to bed."

he looked disappointed. like you'd misunderstood him. “i wasn't joking."

you smiled gently.

"i know."

he blinked.

"you do?"

"i know you don't mean it like that."

your voice was impossibly soft, "you're exhausted. you've had a really hard week. your emotions are all over the place."

you stood, offering him your hand, “come on."

he looked at your hand. then took it. “okay."

he followed you without protest. halfway up the stairs, you stopped outside arin's bedroom. he frowned sleepily.

"why are we stopping?"

you smiled, “because i made her a promise."

he looked confused.

"she asked if you'd kiss her goodnight when you got home.”

understanding slowly spread across his face.

"oh."

you opened the bedroom door as quietly as you could.

moonlight spilled through the curtains.

arin was curled beneath her blankets, one stuffed bunny tucked beneath her arm.

she looked impossibly small.

jungkook's entire expression changed.

every trace of drunken silliness disappeared beneath something impossibly gentle.

you guided him closer.

he knelt carefully beside the bed.

his movements were clumsy.

he brushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead.

then leaned down.

pressed the softest kiss against her skin, “goodnight, princess."

his voice was barely a whisper. arin stirred. her nose scrunched.

her sleepy eyes cracked open.

"...daddy?"

he smiled. the biggest smile you'd seen all night.

"hi."

she reached one tiny hand toward him.

he took it immediately.

"you came home."

"i did."

"nanny said you would."

you smiled from the doorway.

arin's sleepy eyes drifted toward you.

she smiled too.

"...hi."

"hi, sweetheart."

"did you eat dinner?"

jungkook laughed quietly.

"that's my question."

arin yawned so widely her whole face disappeared.

"love you."

"love you more."

she was already asleep again before he'd even finished the sentence. you watched him stare at her for another few seconds.

his eyes glistened. then you gently touched his shoulder.

"come on."

he nodded.

you led him down the hall.

to his bedroom.

you'd never been inside before.

the doorway alone made you hesitate.

this felt too personal. too private.

you'd spent months carefully staying on your side of invisible boundaries.

his bedroom had always been one of them.

he wandered inside without noticing your hesitation.

you followed only because someone had to make sure he actually got into bed.

the room surprised you.

it was neat.

almost painfully so.

gray bedding.

dark wood furniture.

books stacked beside the bed.

a framed picture of arin on the nightstand.

nothing else.

it somehow felt lonelier than the rest of the house. he sat down on the edge of the mattress with a tired sigh.

you crossed quietly to his dresser.

opened the top drawer just enough to find a clean t-shirt and pajama pants.

you set them neatly beside him.

then stepped closer.

"is it okay if i..."

you gestured toward his tie. he nodded immediately. your fingers found the knot. carefully loosening it.

he watched you the entire time.

not your hands.

your face.

your lashes lowered in concentration. the tiny crease between your brows. the way you bit your lip without realizing it.

"...you're beautiful."

you laughed softly, “that's enough."

"it's true."

"that's definitely enough."

you slipped the tie free. folded it neatly. set it over the back of a chair.

when you looked back, he was still watching you.

with that same unbearably soft expression.

"i meant what i said."

you smiled sympathetically, “i know."

"no."

he shook his head slowly.

"i really think i'm in love with you."

your heart squeezed painfully.

poor thing.

he was going to be mortified tomorrow.

you walked over and gently pulled the blankets back for him.

"you need sleep."

he didn't move.

"will you believe me tomorrow?"

you smiled in the way people smile at children who insist the moon is following them home.

"let's worry about tomorrow tomorrow."

he looked like he wanted to argue.

instead, he quietly changed into the clothes you'd laid out while you respectfully turned toward the window.

once he climbed beneath the blankets, you switched off the bedside lamp. only the moonlight remained.

you walked toward the door.

your hand found the knob.

"goodnight, jungkook."

"goodnight."

you looked back one last time. he was already fighting sleep.

eyes half closed.

hair a mess against the pillow.

"i love you."

the words were barely audible.

slurred by exhaustion. you smiled to yourself.

"goodnight."

you pulled the door shut behind you.

the latch clicked softly into place.

alone in the hallway, you leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath.

your face was burning. your heart wouldn't slow down.

"he was drunk," you whispered to yourself.

of course he was. people said all kinds of ridiculous things when they were drunk. 

he would never actually love you. why would he?

he was jeon jungkook.

successful. handsome. accomplished. the kind of man who walked into a room and everyone noticed.

you'd seen the women who smiled at him. polished women in tailored suits at company events. elegant women who belonged beside men like him. women closer to his age. women with careers as impressive as his. women who knew how to carry themselves with effortless confidence.

women who made sense.

and then there was you.

a college student.

his nanny.

the help.

you spent your days wiping sticky fingers, folding tiny clothes, and making dinosaur-shaped sandwiches.

you weren't glamorous. you weren't sophisticated. you didn't belong in his world.

you just happened to be the girl who looked after his daughter.

he'd been lonely tonight. tired. drunk.

maybe, for a little while, you'd felt comforting enough to mistake for something more.

but morning always came.

and with it, reality.

you smiled sadly.

then made your way downstairs, never realizing that every word he'd spoken had been the sober truth finally escaping because, for one night, he no longer had the strength to keep it hidden.

author’s note:

the new chapter’s out!!! so sorry for the wait, i had a lot going on personally, and since this chapter is so significant to the story i just had to get it right!!! i hope you guys like it, i was kinda self conscious about it🤍

xoxo,

kandi

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