loona

//

life with jungkook begins again that sunday morning. 

it felt a little strange to wake up next to him. to stir awake in his arms, nuzzled in the crook of his neck, with your legs tangled together under the sheets. his morning kisses still felt the same, even though you both know deep down that something has changed between you two.

something has shifted.

yet, it’s so unspoken that even your thoughts fail to construct themselves. everything just feels so delicate—like one (more) wrong move and everything between you two will become fragments of a sad love story untold. it claws your heart in so many agonizing ways.

the confusion, hurt, and fear.

so much fucking fear.

when did you become capable of this? of loving someone so much it made you conscious of yourself? or of being loved someone so much that every decision big or small effects them too?

... and you think he'll bring it up. you hold your breath every time there's a passing moment of silence between you two. you prepare yourself mentally for his questions or for the clarity he craves and deserves but is stuck fogged up in your chest... and perhaps it’s the sleepy morning sex or the exchanges of coffee kisses, but it doesn’t come up. 

instead, he is gentle.

instead, his silence is rest, reassurance, and trust.

instead he is unconditional and his arms stay open no matter how much you anticipate for him to close off.

it drives you a little crazy... how you haven’t even apologized for anything… because, yes. there are things to apologize for. you aren’t completely sure what, but you know you should apologize for something. that’s the mature thing to do, right? 

to give in first. 

the bed is empty when jungkook wakes up.

his arm searches for you out of habit, eyes still closed as he reaches across the mattress and is met with… nothing. jungkook’s brows twitch faintly, eyes opening slowly only to see that the sheets beside him are wrinkled. he places his hand on your spot and notices that it’s cold. 

it probably has been for a while. 

quickly, he tries to recall anything you said last night and is quickly stumped. the school semester is over and there’s no way you would be meeting up with ambi this early in the day. what else could it be? what could be so important for you to leave him in the morning?

you two are okay again. 

finally fucking okay. 

he’s so grateful.

to be with you again… feels indescribable. though he acknowledges everything that happened between you two, he doesn’t feel the need to talk about it. at least, not right now. not when everything feels close to perfect. 

at the same time, he’s prepared if you want to talk about it—talk about everything and nothing. from the timeline, his apology drafts in his notes app, and his key points of devotion for you—all of it.

everything. 

he has everything ready for you. if you want it, he’ll give it to you… you just have to ask. 

jungkook sits up, refusing his thoughts to go any further. it’s too early to be sad, and he has to at least give the day a chance before the sun comes up. so, he rubs his eyes and sits in it. 

in this terrible feeling of waking up without you and not knowing where you are. 

his chest tightens before he can stop it.

it’s ridiculous, honestly… how quickly his mind drifts these days. it embarrasses him a little because it’s so pathetic. really, it is. what grown thirty-six year old man yearns like this?

you leave once and suddenly every absence feels catastrophic. 

a bathroom door closed too long, a missed phone call, or waking up without your body beside his… it’s like his brain reacts before logic can catch up. 

like he’s been pushed off a boat and left to swim toward shore through violent waters, lungs burning while he searches desperately for something stable to hold onto. as a matter of fact, he thinks his lungs could collapse if you leave again. it’s like love has rewired his nervous system into something fearful and feral all at once. 

before you left, jungkook never knew panic could feel so physical.

now it lives inside his body and takes over when moments like this happens. 

empty sheets. 

silence. 

and the worst part is that he knows it isn’t fair.

you came back.

you chose him again.

yet some wounded-bunny part of him still braces for abandonment, like it’s inevitable now. like happiness has become something so borrowed, so almost. like if he loosens his grip for even a second, you’ll disappear from his life all over again and this time he won’t survive it nearly as gracefully.

because the first time nearly killed him.

all that remains now is this terrifying awareness of how much he loves you, how much he has to lose, and how much he has given up. 

… then his heart skips a beat. 

the faint sound of cabinets closing, ceramic against marble, and the coffee machine humming quietly from the kitchen cause him to exhale in relief. 

it leaves him slower than it should.

he drags a hand down his face, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. grounding himself. waking himself up properly before his brain starts doing cruel things again.

everything is okay. 

it has to be.

you came back.

you’ve been sleeping in his arms. you let him kiss you every morning with sleepy lips and warm hands beneath his shirt like none of this was ever impossible… but, fuck. 

still.

there’s something fragile in the air. 

something that feels one breath away from collapsing again.

as much as jungkook hates to admit it, he feels it in the way you sometimes hesitate before touching him. he wasn’t sure what it was before, but now he can’t help but notice it because it happens often enough to worry him. it happens enough for him to feel the need to prepare to run after you. it happens enough to scare the living shit out of him. 

it’s in the way you look at him like you’re trying to predict which version of him you’re going to get. it’s in the way both of you speak softer now.

careful.

conscious.

afraid. 

it hurts jungkook deeply as he realizes that love has suddenly become something breakable… and he can’t even find it in himself to blame you for that.

he’s thought about it over and over again lately—trying to understand you without resenting you for the distance between you two. you’ve never done this before. you have never depended on anyone before. you have never put anything down. how can he blame you for not knowing what lightweight feels like when you have carried so much for so long? 

yet, he feels helpless. 

it feels like he’s always standing in front of you holding flowers while you struggle to carry a glass vase already slipping from your hands.

there are places for you to set it down. places to rest. people willing to help. he is willing to help… but you refuse every time. you insist you can hold it on your own, even as the weight starts making your hands shake. and whenever jungkook reaches forward to steady it, you stumble back so quickly the vase nearly slips altogether.

so where does that leave him?

standing there helplessly while the flowers wilt in his hands… or stepping closer and risking you dropping everything entirely?

jungkook finds you standing in the kitchen all dressed up.

your hair is tied back perfectly with a few strands loosely framing your pretty face. his first thought is; wow. you look so grown up.

he's never seen you look so mature. he can’t help but smile because wow... aren't you just the prettiest sight. he can't get over it. every second of you feels so new. he indulges in your delight.

he loves every detail.

you're wearing heels! he's never seen you in heels before. in fact, he didn't know you owned a pair.

“___,” he says, breath taken away. “you look so pretty.”

jungkook walks toward you slowly, like sudden movements might scare you away again. his hands slide around your waist from behind, palms warm against your stomach.

“morning,” you murmur.

then, you melt into him automatically. in response, he presses his mouth against your temple first.

then your cheek.

then finally your lips.

jungkook kisses you longer than usual. perhaps it’s because of his little morning scare, or maybe it’s because your look is really getting him in the mood. his thumb brushes softly over your stomach through your blouse.

“did we have plans today?” he asks against your mouth. “so early. come back to bed. you're gorgeous in this, but i want to take it off you.”

you give him a funny look. 

he tilts his head in confusion. 

“it’s my orientation today.”

you say it like you’ve talked about it nonstop. 

you haven’t. 

jungkook would’ve taken note… he couldn’t have missed this. he wouldn’t have. 

“orientation?” he asks. “for what?”

“for the internship.”

and just like that… everything shifts.

again.

it’s subtle.

so subtle that maybe nobody else would notice it.

but you notice and jungkook stills behind you.

not fully, but just enough. his arms loosen slightly around your waist. his mouth parts like he’s about to say something reassuring first before his confusion catches up to him.

“… you’re still doing it?”

you nod once, turning toward the coffee machine.

“what does that mean?” you reply with a hint of a defensive tone. “when did i say i wasn't going through with it?”

the internship. 

you did mention it… before the fight. before everything, but not recently. 

and when did you two decide on this? when was this discussed and taken into consideration in terms of where you are in your pregnancy and where you two are emotionally? isn’t this too much on your plate? and fuck. 

seriously. 

did he really forget about the internship?

then it hits him.

maybe part of him just assumed that your life would slow down now. he assumed things would change. jungkook assumed you’d stay tucked safely inside the little world he was already building around you.

the realization makes guilt crawl beneath his skin almost instantly.

because he knows how that sounds.

controlling.

selfish.

but beneath all of it is something uglier.

fear.

he thinks about you struggling to get comfortable at night. your swollen ankles and he way you wince getting out of bed sometimes when you think he’s asleep. the way he caught you crying in the bathroom last week because your body “doesn’t feel like yours anymore.”

most of all, he’s afraid of being the one thing you choose to down. 

and now you want to work? the school semester just ended for you… shouldn’t you take a break? 

jungkook swallows hard.

“when were you gonna tell me?”

“i'm confused... jungkook, i'm pretty sure i’ve mentioned it,” you say rather passively. “if i didn’t, then i guess i’m telling you now.” your voice stays light, but he hears the defensiveness tucked inside it immediately.

his jaw tightens.

“i just thought maybe…” he pauses carefully. “maybe you weren’t doing it anymore. i mean, with all things considered.”

you finally look at him then.

“all things considered?”

“___, you’re pregnant. you’re about to give birth in like… a month and a half. besides, these kinds of things require more of a discussion, decision, and compromise between the both of us. you can’t just do things without telling me or considering me. us, i mean. you, me, the baby… be honest… did you really think this thing through?”

the words fall heavier than he intends and your expression shifts almost instantly.

jungkook feels regret stab through him immediately.

“baby, i just mean—”

“i applied for this before the pregnancy. i’m sorry if i didn’t consider you then and this is happening now,” your voice stays calm, but your shoulders tense beneath his hands. “this is important to me.”

“i know that,” jungkook agrees. 

“do you?”

“i never said it wasn’t.” jungkook exhales. “of course i do.” his voice softens as he reaches for you. “i wanna support you. i do, baby. i just… i don't think the timing is good at all. your plate is too full.”

he looks down briefly, trying to organize feelings that all sound terrible out loud... because the truth is that he doesn’t think this internship is worth it. he doesn’t want you exhausted. he doesn’t want strangers stressing you out or overworking yourself. 

he doesn’t want you to need anything but him. 

and maybe that last thought is the problem.

“___, i don’t think you’re being reasonable with yourself right now,” he says carefully. “can you even do this? you can barely tie your own shoes these days.”

your face hardens immediately and jungkook realizes too late that his words slipped out too easily. too thoughtless.

fuck.

the second the words leave his mouth, he wants them back.

you go still.

completely still.

jungkook watches your throat bob once before you gently pull away from him. not dramatic or angry and somehow that makes it worse.

“okay,” you murmur.

“that’s not—”

“it’s fine, jungkook.” you tell him. “it’s okay. we can disagree on this. but i’m still going today and i hope you can be more supportive about this when we talk it over later.”

suddenly he feels it again.

that horrible distance.

like he’s standing right in front of you but somehow losing you anyway.

“a-and i’m not trying to be selfish, just so you know. i’m doing this for our future too. i’m doing this so i have stability for myself and don’t depend on you. i know you can do the heavy lifting. i know you can pay for the mortgage and buy me a house with a white picket fence if i ask nicely—i get it. but do you get that i’m not asking you to? that this internship is for me,” you say quietly, staring down into your coffee. “this was before you and the baby. this is the last thing i get to do for myself before i devote the rest of my fucking life to you and the baby. do you get that?”

“is devoting to us so bad?” jungkook hisses. “what the fuck are you even saying, ___?”

“i would love to lie in bed and just be yours,” you confess. “but i would never forgive myself for not doing more. for not following through with my passions and abilities just because i…”

because i love you.

you pause. 

jungkook searches for your eyes. 

“can you just trust me, jungkook?” you plead. “this isn’t about you, the baby, or any of that—”

“any of our life together?”

“stop,” you breathe. “please stop.”

guilt blooms hot in his chest because he understands what you mean immediately.

pregnancy has consumed everything.

your body.

your routines.

your future.

your relationship.

everyone looks at you differently and handles you differently.

especially him.

and maybe somewhere along the way, protecting you started feeling dangerously close to controlling you.

jungkook rubs a hand over his mouth.

the kitchen suddenly feels too small.

too warm.

“i don’t think you understand me right now,” you sigh eventually. “i’m going to be late if i try to explain myself even more. i’m in no mood to start a fight, and i get that asking you to understand may feel unfair… but fuck, jungkook… please?” you ask as you reach for your bag.

instantly panic flares inside him immediately.

“wait.”

you pause.

“let me drive you.” he’s already stepping back toward the hallway. “i just have to change.”

hesitation flickers across your face. it’s small and brief, but it’s still enough to make his stomach twist.

“... w-what? do you not want me to?”

“i do want you to... it's just that...” you say softly. “jimin offered already. he’s outside.”

jungkook stops moving.

“he helped me get the internship,” you add quickly. “he wanted to send me off.”

and there it is.

that sharp ugly feeling.

jealousy.

resentment.

mixed with something bitter and exhausted.

of course it’s jimin again.

of course someone else gets to stand beside you during important moments while jungkook somehow keeps ending up on the outside of them. his tongue presses hard against the inside of his cheek.

“… why are we fucking stuck here?” jungkook sighs. “why… why are we here again, ___?”

you close your eyes immediately.

not angry.

tired.

“please,” you whisper. “i don’t wanna fight.”

“this isn’t fighting.”

“then don’t make it one.”

jungkook laughs quietly under his breath.

a humorless sound.

“jungkook, this isn’t about him.”

“right,” he mutters. “and it’s never about me either.”

the second he says it, your face falls.

he knows he’s putting you in a tough spot. he knows this is near pointless. he knows he’s just being a jerk that woke up on the wrong side of the bed—but he also knows that the shit he’s saying is true. that he has pushed them down far enough. 

but two things can be true at once. your truth and his. 

this isn’t fair. 

he knows you’re trying.

he can literally see you trying as you step toward him slowly, lips pouting a little as your fingers reach for his wrist.

“i have to go,” you lean up to kiss him goodbye. “have a good day, okay?”

and god.

he wants to let you.

he wants to melt immediately.

he wants to wrap his arms around you and apologize and tell you he’s just scared all the time now. he wants to stop time and find a way to rewind this morning just so he can be kinder, softer, and more yours… 

because right now he’s so scared of losing you.

scared of hurting you.

scared that he’s already becoming the kind of man you’ll eventually resent.

but the jealousy, hurt, and misunderstanding get there first. so instead of kissing you goodbye and wishing you luck, jungkook takes a small step back… and the look on your face after nearly fucking kills him.

you try to hide it.

you really do.

but he sees the way embarrassment flashes across your expression before you lower your hand. you blink at him before attempting to smile. then, you turn around and leave. 

the door closes softly behind you, soft enough that it feels intentional and it absolutely kills him. it’s like even now, you’re still trying to protect his feelings.

jungkook stands there staring at the door long after you’re gone.

his chest aches.

the building where your internship is makes you feel so grown up.

it’s exactly the way you imagined it would be with the cold glass stretching high into the clouds and the polished marble floors. 

the space is filled with employees and their quick footsteps. at one point, you notice a group of girls your age with prettier resumes than yours clipped neatly onto lanyards hanging from their necks and it makes you feel a little worried.

then you realize… you’re already in.

they’re applying.

pride blooms in your chest.

then, you turn your head to follow a scent. everything smells expensive. you can't differentiate what has you in a trance. could it be the coffee, the different perfumes the linger, or the building itself?

you stand in the lobby smoothing your hands nervously over the front of your blouse while orientation assistants direct people around with bright smiles and practiced voices.

you feel good.

really good.

important, almost.

like yourself again.

not somebody’s girlfriend not girlfriend.  not somebody’s future wife. not somebody’s mother. not a student anymore… 

just… you.

your name.

your accomplishments.

your ambition.

your potential.

you catch your reflection briefly in the mirrored elevator walls and feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

see?

you can still do this.

you’re still you.

and even the thought alone feels embarrassingly emotional, you let it. for once, you let yourself fucking feel what is true. 

ever since becoming pregnant, it felt like pieces of your identity have started blurring together in ways you weren’t prepared for. every conversation somehow circles back to the baby. every concern about your body becomes medical, practical, or protective.

maybe that’s why this matters so much. you need proof that you still belong to yourself too.

orientation begins on the twenty-seventh floor.

the conference room overlooks the city skyline, sunlight pouring through the windows while interns introduce themselves one by one. resumes. goals. prior experience.

you sit straighter every time someone speaks, doing your best to look as engaged and attentive as possible.

trying to at least. 

when it’s your turn, you introduce yourself with a smile.

your voice barely shakes.

the coordinator seems impressed with your background immediately and asks you questions. you’re showered with compliments about your previous work and how much your school faculty vouched for you. at one point, you make a friend. 

one of the interns beside you whispers; “girl, your portfolio’s insane, by the way.”

and god.

it feels good to hear that.

your cheeks warm with quiet pride as you thank her softly. you can't help but feel so much excitement and optimism.

but that only lasts so long.

after an hour passes, you feel your lower back ache.

then another hour passes, and you feel your need to pee every fifteen minutes kick in.

the expensive scents that had you in a trance earlier? suddenly they're too overpowering. you get a little nauseous, but worst of all is that it makes your head start to hurt.

it gets to a point where you excuse yourself for a breather. everyone nods, their eyes not shying away from your bump. you gulp as everyone watches you leave.

you tell yourself it’s fine.

you’re fine.

you are completely fine.

you’ve handled worse than discomfort before.

still, when the building tour begins, your body protests immediately. the heels of your shoes dig painfully into your swollen feet. your backache intensifies. your beginning to get lightheaded.

you trail behind the group slightly while the coordinator speaks enthusiastically about departments and opportunities and networking events, but her voice starts sounding fuzzier the longer you walk.

too warm.

everything suddenly feels too warm.

your blouse sticks uncomfortably to your skin beneath your cardigan while your stomach tightens faintly beneath the fabric.

the baby shifts.

hard.

you pause instinctively, palm pressing against the underside of your stomach.

“___? are you okay?” the girl beside you asks gently.

your answer comes automatically.

“yeah, i’m okay.”

she smiles and continues walking. you follow immediately despite the ache crawling down your hips.

because that’s what you do.

keep going.

keep smiling.

keep proving yourself.

then, your phone buzzes.

jungkook: hi baby did you eat lunch yet? read. jungkook: i was a jerk this morning. i'm sorry read. jungkook: also hope ur day is going well excited to hear abt it later over dinner pls go on a dinner date with me :( pls ...

your throat tightens unexpectedly…. because suddenly all you can picture is him standing barefoot in the kitchen this morning looking half asleep while rubbing circles against your stomach through his hoodie.

you think about the way his face fell after stepping away from your goodbye kiss.

you think about him tying your shoes three days ago because you’d gotten frustrated trying to bend over.

your chest aches.

the afternoon drags afterward and your body has now given up.

your ankles are visibly swollen and your smile hurts to maintain. your stomach feels so heavy that standing upright for too long makes you want to cry a little. you had to excuse yourself to pee like six times in the span of one hour. 

still.

every time someone asks if you need a seat first, or help carrying materials, or water and in response; you refused. 

somewhere deep down, accepting help still feels too close to weakness… and maybe pregnancy has made that worse.

it’s humiliating sometimes.

not because jungkook makes you feel incapable.

god no.

if anything, he loves you too carefully.

that’s the problem.

he notices everything.

every wince, every sigh, and every moment of discomfort you try to hide. sometimes you catch him watching you with this quiet worried expression, like he’s mentally calculating ways to make the world softer for you.

you used to think it was suffocating.

now, halfway through another department tour while your feet throb so badly you can barely focus, you suddenly wonder if maybe you’ve misunderstood him all along.

maybe love looks a little like being witnessed.

maybe love looks like someone noticing when you’re struggling before you say anything at all.

your eyes sting unexpectedly as you realize just how much you miss him. the realization hits hard enough to make you stop walking for a second.

you want him. 

you need him.

you love him more than you’re willing to admit… and it’s getting tiring carrying all of this. it’s tiring being everything all at once. your chest tightens as you finally let yourself put something down;

your pride.

by the time you leave the building, your body feels so unbearably heavy. you haven’t been this tired in months. it’s like exhaustion has settled somewhere deeper than your bones. your feet ache. your back burns. your stomach feels tight and sore from carrying yourself upright all day while pretending none of it was difficult.

maybe that’s the most exhausting part of all.

pretending.

pretending you aren’t struggling, or that you didn’t need any help. pretending that your independence still feels empowering instead of lonely.

you can’t help it.

the elevator ride down had been your breaking point.

one whole minute of uninterrupted silence. one whole minute of no smiling, no introductions, and no trying.

just stillness… and suddenly every ache in your body became impossible to ignore.

in one breath, you realize how much relief you feel at the thought of coming home to jungkook… and everything he is. your chest tightens painfully at the realization because suddenly, the thought of going home to an empty apartment sounds unbearable. you think you might actually cry if jungkook isn’t there.

maybe home has never really been a place for you.

maybe it’s always been a person.

as you step out of the elevator, you take your phone out from your bag and open it. quickly, you realize you never texted him back.

fuck.

your stomach twists immediately.

as you’re about to answer him, you reach the front of the lobby and the revolving doors slide open. cold air brushes against your skin and then—just like all the moments with him in the past—you feel him.

his presence.

and just like that, you lift your head and see him.

jungkook is standing outside the lobby with wire-framed glasses slipping slightly down his nose. his oversized denim jacket makes him look broader than he already is, his dark hair visibly messy from running his hands through it too many times. he’s holding a shopping bag in one hand and flowers in the other.

god.

he looks painfully handsome.

he looks like home.

a sudden thought comes up; maybe that’s what finally scares you… how badly you want to rest there. like every soft place your body has been craving all day without you realizing it. the second his eyes land on you, he smiles.

it’s small at first.

then it softens completely as he takes you in.

relief floods his face so openly it nearly wrecks you on the spot. like he’s been anxious for hours. like physically seeing you standing in front of him settles something violent inside his chest.

his shoulders visibly loosen as you walk closer to him. the tension in his jaw easing for the first time all day.

and god.

nobody has ever looked relieved by your existence before.

wanted you? yes.

desired you? absolutely.

but relieved? like your presence alone quiets something terrible inside them? the realization makes your throat tighten immediately because maybe leaving him really did break something in him… and somehow, he still loves you gently anyway.

you stop walking for half a second because suddenly you feel shy.

which is ridiculous.

this is jungkook.

your jungkook.

the man who has seen every version of you.

still… because things between you two have felt so fragile lately that seeing him waiting outside for you anyway makes your chest ache in a completely different way. in a way where you feel this overwhelming rush beneath your skin. like you need to kiss him immediately or you’ll lose your mind. like you need to be in his arms or you’ll lose vision in your left eye.

dramatic, ridiculous and painfully real.

you want his hands on you.

not sexually.

just… somewhere. anywhere. enough to remind your body that you aren’t alone anymore and that you need him in a way you never have before.

so, you pick up your pace. 

you walk toward him, prepared to do it. to give in. to finally put your pride down. to tell him he was right about today and how you should’ve listened. but when you finally stand in front of him, you open your mouth and nothing comes out.

instead, you just stare at him.

and in return, jungkook smiles at you like you’re his entire world.

his eyes move slowly over your face like he’s checking for damage.you feel your own eyes sting almost immediately when he leans forward and presses a kiss against your cheek. his lips linger there for half a second too long.

your eyes close instinctively. your body leaning toward him before your pride can stop it. already at a loss for words, jungkook suddenly crouches in front of you.

instantly, your breath catches sharply enough your lungs hurt because he does it so naturally. he reaches for the strap of your heels and begins undoing them quietly. he doesn’t ask you anything. doesn’t comment on how swollen your ankles look right now or tease you for overdoing it.

instead, his fingers brush against your ankle gently, steadying your leg automatically so you don’t wobble.

his glasses slide further down his nose as he looks down in concentration. you notice the faint crease between his brows. the careful way he holds your ankle steady in his palm.

your stomach twists painfully because when was the last time you treated yourself gently? and something inside you starts unraveling immediately because this is the first time all day someone has treated your body like something deserving of care instead of performance. this is the first time you’ve been taken in regardless of your pride.

this is the first time you let it happen too.

you don’t pull away and you don’t insist you can do it yourself. you don’t apologize for taking up space.

you just let him love you in his own way.

the terrifying part is how natural it feels. how quickly your body melts the second someone else starts carrying the weight for you.

jungkook slips the heel off carefully and the relief is immediate. your shoulders sag without permission, and his brows pinch faintly at the reaction like he’s upset you were uncomfortable for longer than necessary.

then he reaches into the shopping bag beside him.

your favourite pair of sneakers.

your throat tightens as jungkook slides one onto your foot carefully before moving to the other side. still silent. still gentle.

his thumb brushes softly against the inside of your ankle, absentmindedly and instinctively. it’s intimate in the way only long-term love can be.

and suddenly you can’t breathe properly.

all day long you kept forcing yourself through discomfort like enduring pain quietly was something noble all the while jungkook loves you like resting is allowed.

your vision blurs instantly.

fuck.

you look away quickly, pressing your hands against your face before the tears can fully spill… except they already are.

before you knwo it, your shoulders shake once. then again… and again.

jungkook freezes mid-knot.

panic flashes across his face before he even looks up properly.

“… baby? why are you crying?”

his voice changes immediately. he sounds soft, concerned, and truthfully a little scared. you realize suddenly that your tears frighten him now. like losing you once taught him to panic first and think second.

you shake your head quickly behind your hands, mortified from your own body’s betrayal. you can’t believe it… how pathetic you must look right now.

“i’m okay,” you whisper.

but the words crumble the second they leave your mouth because you aren’t okay. perhaps that’s the first honest thing your body has admitted all day.

“s-sorry,” you whisper weakly. “i just… fuck, jungkook…”

another sob catches in your throat.

“you tie my shoes and i… i love you.”

the confession slips out before you can stop it.

jungkook stills completely.

then he stands immediately after tying the laces, his hands wrapping gently around your wrists to pull them away from your face. his brows knit together the second he sees how hard you’re crying.

“you love me?”

his hands cup your face carefully.

your eyes flutter shut for half a second on instinct alone like your body recognizes safety before your mind does. your breathing slows instinctively beneath his touch like your nervous system knows him by heart now. his thumbs brush beneath your eyes over and over while he searches your expression like he’s trying to figure out where the damage is. he hates seeing you cry. he didn’t realize just how much until now.

jungkook’s face crumples slightly.

“baby, talk to me.”

the tenderness in his voice only makes you cry harder.

fuck.

he sounds so worried. so loving. so invested.

so… yours.

“look, i’m sorry about this morning,” jungkook says quickly when you can’t answer. “i shouldn’t have pushed you like that, i just…”

he pauses before briefly dropping his forehead against yours.

the contact makes your knees feel weak instantly.

you can feel him breathing. it’s uneven and shaky. it’s like he’s trying very hard not to unravel with you.

“fuck,” he whispers. “i was worried about you all day.”

your chest caves inward. you feel the pit of your stomach twist violently. you might actually throw up from how overwhelming all of this feels.

“you didn’t answer my texts,” he murmurs softly. “i didn’t know if you were mad at me or if something happened or—”

“you were right.”

jungkook’s expression changes instantly.

your lips tremble.

“jungkook… i’m so tired,” you whisper shakily. your voice sounds smaller somehow…

younger.

it’s vulnerable in a way that makes jungkook’s entire face soften immediately. the confession leaves your body like surrender and the second you say it out loud, more tears spill down your cheeks because it’s true.

you’re so tired.

tired of carrying everything alone. tired of treating your body like something to battle against. tired of acting like needing love is the same thing as weakness.

“my feet hurt,” you whisper brokenly. “my back hurts and i could barely focus all day because i was trying so hard to pretend i was okay. at first everything smelled really good and then everything smelled too strong and i got dizzy and nauseous and—and one colleague brought porkbelly for lunch which is fine because he’s allowed to eat whatever he wants b-but i…”

“shhh,” jungkook whispers immediately. his hand slides into your hair instinctively. “it’s okay. what you feel is okay.”

jungkook says it so easily as if your feelings aren’t inconvenient. meanwhile, you hate how pathetic you sound… except jungkook doesn’t look at you like you’re pathetic at all.

he looks at you like he wishes he could’ve carried you through the entire day himself.

“a-and the whole time i kept thinking about you,” your voice cracks harder. “about how angry i got because you noticed before i did.”

his thumbs still softly against your cheeks.

“i don’t know how to stop doing this,” you admit quietly. “i don’t know how to stop carrying more than i can handle.”

your fingers curl weakly into the front of his hoodie like some exhausted part of you is finally reaching for help instead of resisting it.

“i trust you, i really do… but sometimes this doesn’t even feel like it’s about you. it’s about what i put down. where i put it. and how do i adjust to a lighter load? how do i become okay with not being everything all at once?”

the words hang between you both heavily because finally; you’re saying the real thing.

not the argument or defensiveness but the fear underneath it.

jungkook’s eyes gloss over instantly behind his glasses.

“i keep acting like needing you means losing myself,” you whisper. “and i’m so tired of fighting you when all you’re trying to do is love me.”

you grip the front of his hoodie weakly.

“i give up,” you whisper. “i give in.”

a beat.

“jungkook, i love you. i want to be loved by you,” you cry softly. “and i’m sorry for making it feel like you had to beg me to let you take care of me. a-and i’m sorry about the sara thing. whatever the fuck that was… i’m sorry.”

“we can talk about that another time,” he says softly. “let’s focus on you right now, okay?”

his voice breaks completely before he pulls you against him immediately. so fucking desperately… his hand spreads wide against the back of your head protectively like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip too much. one arm wraps tightly around your shoulders while the other cradles the back of your head, pressing you into his chest like he’s been holding himself together all day and finally can’t anymore.

the force of it almost makes you stumble.

“don’t apologize for anything,” he whispers shakily into your hair. “it’s all okay.”

you cry harder the second he holds you because this is what you were actually afraid of all along.

and it’s relieving to be in this moment with him. to feel not only dependence or vulnerability, but rest. 

the terrifying softness of being cared for without needing to earn it first.

being loved enough to finally rest.

jungkook presses trembling kisses against your hairline while his hand rubs slowly up and down your back.

“___, i want you to know that i don’t want less of you,” he whispers. “i don’t want you smaller. i don’t want you quieter or easier or less ambitious. i just want you happy.”

his voice cracks hard on the last word because he means it. more than his pride and more than being right… honestly? maybe more than himself.

another sob leaves your chest instantly.

jungkook pulls back just enough to look at your face again, brushing tears from your cheeks carefully.

“and i know you can do everything alone,” he says softly. “that’s never been the issue.” his forehead presses against yours again, his nose brushing yours gently. “i just don’t think you should have to.”

your eyes squeeze shut.

for the first time in a long time, you let your full weight lean into him completely.

your body practically folds into his.

exhausted from holding yourself up alone for so long.

“thank you for everything,” you whisper, dipping your head low. you kiss him softly, his lips chase yours as you pull away. “thank you for being so patient… especially when i don’t know how to stop carrying everything by myself.”

his thumb brushes slowly beneath your eye before he exhales shakily through his nose, forehead resting against yours.

“then put it down,” he whispers softly.

your brows pinch. 

“what?” you ask.

“all of it.”

“we can put it down anywhere you want,” he murmurs. “we’ll figure it out together.”

his hand slides from your cheek down to your wrist carefully.

“for starters, you can leave it by the couch,” he begins, earning a weak laugh breaks through your crying. jungkook pauses and smiles softly at the sound of it. “or we can shove it into some ugly box and hide it under our bed for awhile.”

your lips wobble harder.

his expression turns impossibly tender after that.

“and if you want…” his hand lifts slowly between you both before he presses your palm gently against the center of his chest.

right over his heartbeat.

his heart pounds hard beneath your hand.

“you can put it here.”

your breath catches sharply. jungkook’s eyes never leave yours.

“i love you. i want all of you.” he says. “i have meant every part of my presence with you. since the very beginning. since our first kiss and the first time you ever refused for me to drive you home. since the grocery store. i miss you every second you aren’t with me. i love our baby in every possible way. i love our life together even though it’s just beginning.”

jungkook pauses to take a breath.

"What about this one?" 

The pad of your finger brushes along the soft swirl of a rose. The red ink has since long sunk into his skin, its once bright hue now a muted memory. You regard the individual petals, hoping for them to magically unravel and tell you a secret or two about the man beneath you. 

Sprawled comfortably on top of his chest, you had spent the past ten minutes tracing each illustration adorning Jungkook's arm. There were more than you could count, some blending with one another — others appearing to have been colored over a past one, possibly covering for a mistake he never intended to make. 

Jungkook hums out a quiet breath where he lays against the pillows. After providing you with water and cleaning you off with a damp towel, he'd returned to bed, unbothered by how quickly you had crawled on top of him to study the tattoos that wrapped around his forearm and bicep. 

Your persistent questions never seemed to bore him, which only made you want to ask more. Right now he's following your line of sight, gaze lingering on the faded rose you were caressing. "That one?" He huffs, "Got it in 76' at some rundown studio after a night out." 

His hand, resting firmly on your naked hip, squeezes you gently. "Thought it was edgy I suppose," He trails off before continuing in a low rasp, "Or perhaps I entertained the idea that mother would scold me less if she found out it was a rose rather than a skull." 

You crack a smile at that, tilting your head enough to squint at him through the warm hues of orange. "She didn't like you getting tattoos?" 

Jungkook's brows furrow, jaw tightening before he relaxes it again. "She still doesn't," He affirms with a quiet grunt. The muscle under your fingers tenses when he flexes his arm, pulling your attention from his face and back to the designs painting his skin. "Though she came to accept them," He shrugs, feigning indifference, but you saw the way his eyes lingered on the red petals. 

For a moment you choose to listen to the steady breaths he draws, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath you — it reminds you of a sleeping cat. The smell of sex still clings to the warm afternoon air, but neither you nor Jungkook had brought up what happened yet. You find that you don't want to, not right now at least. 

Your palm flattens out against his arm, sliding across his bicep slowly before reaching his shoulder. "Would you ever get another one?" The question is a whisper on your lips and you keep your gaze on the tips of your fingers where they caress the ink bleeding onto his chest. 

Jungkook inhales a deep, slow breath, his torso expanding beneath you until he lets it go again. The remnants of his exhale flutters across the lower half of your face. "I don't know," He says, the corner of his mouth tugging into a frown, "Maybe…" 

He flexes the inked hand resting on the mattress. "I would like the children's names I think." After a short pause he adds, "Though I don't exactly have much space left." 

You hum, letting your featherlight touch move over his naked chest, all the way along his collarbone before dipping down to rest above the thumping of his heart. "What about here?" You write out both of their names with the help of your index finger, spelling them across his chest clumsily, "I think your mom would approve of that one." 

When nothing but stillness follows the proposal you glance up to find Jungkook watching you through half-lidded eyes. He wears a serene expression, something so unfamiliar to see on his otherwise tense face. It's a nice change, you think. 

The hand he keeps on your hip brushes along your waist in a wordless agreement and he hums. His touch moves to your back, trailing up your spine before sliding back down again. He repeats the motion a handful of times, the slowly setting sun outside painting your naked bodies. 

Another minute passes where you're content to just watch one another. Your fingers busy themselves by drawing lazy patterns across his chest. Slowly they creep up the line of his throat, past his Adam's apple until they find the sharp edge of his jaw. The skin there is rougher and you let the pad of your thumb drag across the faint stubble. 

"Do you think you'd grow it out?" 

Jungkook's eyes, which had fallen shut during your ministrations, cracked open enough to peer at you. He cocks a brow, gaze following the path your fingers take. A soft breath escapes him, "No." 

"No?" You press, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "Why not? I think it looks sexy." 

At that he averts his gaze, clearing his throat softly before shaking his head slowly. "No," He echoes, hand returning to your hip, "It makes me look old." 

"I would argue that you are old," You hum, unable to keep from teasing him, if only a little. 

He doesn't verbally respond to that, instead giving your waist a firm squeeze as he settles back against the pillows. He lets you continue to run your fingers across his jaw, not stopping you when you reach the soft flesh of his bottom lip. 

You had always found Jungkook to be quite handsome. But when studying him up close like this you realized that he was downright gorgeous, it was almost unfair. Without the crease between his brows or the tension to his face — he looked angelic. 

Your index finger slides along his lip, pausing when the faint scar just below it catches your eye. "What's that?" You murmur, stroking across the tiny, almost invisible discoloration on his skin, so small you could have easily missed it, had you not been paying attention.

Jungkook exhales, tongue prodding at the tissue from inside his mouth, almost absently. "I used to have a piercing there, a long time ago." He explains it like it was the most casual thing in the world, clearly oblivious to the gawking look you send him. 

"Seriously?" You lean forward, already inspecting the faint scar closely. 

"Mhm," He tilts his head back to give you a clearer view, "A ring." 

"And it didn't hurt?" The questions were pouring out of you in an endless stream as you peek at the tiny hole. It was the faintest hue of pink that marred him, appearing to have been healed since long.

"No," He murmurs silently, lifting one hand to push his dark hair from his forehead. You follow the movement, frowning softly when he cocks a brow. "Used to have one here as well," Jungkook explains and it is when he points to the arch of his eyebrow that you see a similar scar seared into the skin there. 

You're reaching out to touch before you can stop yourself, thumb pressing against the mark like it could somehow show you a locked memory. "Woah," Exhaling softly, you try to picture him with glinting silver adorning his face, briefly wondering what it would feel like to kiss his lips and feel the metal there. 

"What kind of guy did you use to be, huh?" You drawl when leaning back to prop your chin on folded arms. As much as you were just trying to poke harmless fun at him, you could not deny the curiosity swirling deep within your chest. Sometimes Jungkook spoke as though he had lived a whole other life before this — in a way, you suppose he had. 

But he only scoffs, dark eyes flickering over to a spot on the wall. The tension seeps back into his shoulders, jaw clenching in tune with the crease pulling across his forehead. "Not someone I'm proud of," He simply says, and judging by the tone he used, it was obvious you wouldn't get more than that. 

Still, you prod, head tilting to the side as a lazy smile tugs at your lips. "Why, it can't be that bad?" It was hard to picture Jungkook as anything but the man you had gotten to know during the past month and a half. You imagine him in a tattoo shop, loud music blaring from the speakers as he lets someone paint his arm. What would he wear? Was his hair longer? 

Jungkook doesn't give you any intel, nor does he respond to your previous inquiry. His hand caresses your hip one final time, the other coming up to rest against your cheek. "I'll make us something to eat," He murmurs, lips brushing your forehead softly as he presses a chaste kiss to the spot. 

The mattress shifts under his weight, rising slightly when he gets up, leaving you stranded on the bed as you awkwardly push yourself to sit straighter. "I trust you'll find your way to the bathroom if you want to shower." He says when pulling on his boxers and dress pants. 

Once he's clothed from the waist down he pauses, dark gaze finding yours. His expression is impossible to read, like it so often was. Just as you think he's about to leave without another word Jungkook surprises you by instead taking a step in your direction. 

He crosses the distance separating you in two quick strides, leaning down enough for his nose to brush yours. Breath hitching in your throat, you let your eyes flutter when he leans in close enough for your lips to touch. 

The kiss is slow, the absence of both tongue and teeth making it feel almost tender. Your fingers curl around the sheets you sit on and you lean in to the warmth of him. 

When he pulls back it's with reluctance, the pad of his thumb lingering on your chin a moment longer. "I'll leave you to it," He says, hand sliding down your arm before he detaches himself from you completely. The bedroom door is left ajar after his departure and you listen to the sound of his retreating footsteps. 

The shower should have helped. 

Hot water cascading down your naked body, steam curling around you in a protective embrace — just you and the thoughts you couldn't keep at bay. They were loud in Jungkook's absence. 

Being wrapped in his arms for nearly an hour had made you forget about what the two of you had actually done. The line you had crossed which you would never be able to come back from. 

When you close your eyes and step under the stream you can still see the look on his face. The need written onto his every feature, the natural flush creeping down his neck and the way his hair clung to his sweaty forehead. Through the sound of water splashing against the tiled floor you could hear the echoes of his voice, the low groans which had reverberated against your skin — so close. 

With a shudder you reach out and twist the shower to an icy cold, attempting to block out the sudden heat blooming deep inside your gut at the vivid image. It doesn't work and you're left a shivering mess before finally giving up and adjusting the temperature to something endurable. 

You knew that whatever conversation might await you downstairs would be far from pleasant. So you stay under the water for as long as possible, trying to prolong the inevitable. 

Would he tell you that it was all a mistake just like he had the kiss? Your fingers curl around the shower handle, nails digging into the heel of your hand at the thought of another rejection from him — you don't think you could handle it. 

Because this time it wasn't only a kiss. It was something much more intimate, you had shared a piece of yourself so vulnerable that you did not know what would become of you if he decided to crush it in his palm. 

Letting go of the shower handle to reach for the bottle of soap, the tips of your fingers hesitate just short of it. Everything in here smelled like him. Even the towel which you had grabbed fresh from the linen cabinet had his scent on it. That intoxicating aroma that did nothing but remind you of how it had felt to have his lips on your body, his hands holding you down against the mattress— 

Your scrub yourself roughly, attempting to wash the memory away before it ate you alive. Only, all it seemed to do was tangle you further into its web. The soap is laced with everything that reminds you of him — Jungkook is everywhere without ever intending to be. It's frustrating just as much as it is dangerous. 

By the looks of it, you would be standing under the water until it turned cold — stuck in an endless loop of trying to bury a memory you did not want to let go of in the first place. At this rate, Jungkook might as well climb the stairs in search of you — and you found that you did not want that. Thus, you cut the stream and step out barefoot onto the bright tiles. 

Your clothes don't feel the same on your body when descending down the stairs. From pulling the fabric over your legs and slipping your shirt back in place. The fabric clings too tight, rubbing against your skin uncomfortably with each step you take. Fingers trailing along the banister, you let them tap restlessly onto the wood. 

The smell of freshly made food wafts through the air once you reach the bottom of the staircase. It leads you through the hallway and into the kitchen, feet carrying you without thought. 

By the time you reach the archway your heart is pounding in your ears, your breath coming in short, jagged pants. Wiping your clammy hands against your thighs, you force yourself to cross the threshold — you were going to have to face this moment sooner or later, better to get it over with right away. 

Jungkook's naked back is what greets you first. He stands by the stove, seemingly unaware of your presence for the time being. It was reassuring and you take the moment to study him when approaching the kitchen island. Leaning your elbows on the cool marble, you use the cold to ground yourself as you watch him move about. 

His hands are occupied with pushing around the meat sizzling in the pan, the muscle in his forearm stretching when he uses a pair of tongs to turn the beef. It was a domestic sight. For a brief while you could almost imagine this to be your new reality. Coming down to see him like this, hair unkempt and half-dressed, cooking for you. 

However that small bubble was quickly burst when Jungkook's voice suddenly breaks the silence. "Was your shower… Alright?" He asks, the question tumbling off his tongue rather awkwardly, almost as though he were making the words up on the spot. 

It catches you off guard, if only for a second. Jungkook was not one to insinuate conversation like this. His inquiry felt almost like an afterthought, as though whatever he was currently thinking of had somehow managed to make its way past his lips without him meaning for it to. 

When he turns his head to send you a glance over his shoulder, your gazes cross paths — though not for long. Jungkook's eyes dip to the shirt you wear. Your attempts at drying off had been meek, your hands distracted by thoughts of the man before you setting the entire ordeal up for failure from the start. The cotton around you is darkened in places, especially around your neckline where the fabric sticks to you like glue. 

"Yeah," Hands fiddling mindlessly with one another, you realize that perhaps you ought to straighten up again. "The shower was alright," You hum as you plaster a faint smile onto your face. 

Jungkook doesn't respond more than a slow tilt of his head. His gaze have yet to stray from the glistening skin of your neck and collarbone, eyes trailing along the modest cut of your shirt. You recognize that look as something you had seen not long ago, when he'd let himself get so close. It makes your stomach flutter in ways you shouldn't allow it to, and the beating of your heart only grows louder for each passing moment. 

At last, he finally tears himself from your shirt. His eyes shift back to yours, there's something almost bashful swirling within their dark depths — but it is gone just as quickly when Jungkook clears his throat and turns back to the meat cooking on the stove. 

You stand by the kitchen island a moment longer, fingers tracing the cool marble with an audible sigh. Then you pad over to where he stands, coming to a halt so close that your elbow might just brush his. And though you never turn to fully look at him, you could still sense the way he tensed beside you before forcing himself to relax. 

"Need help with anything?" You ask when peering down at the various side dishes he had prepared to go along with the meat. It all smelled really good and you had to stop your itching fingers from reaching out and trying some of it. 

Jungkook cocks a brow when stealing a glance at you from the corner of his eye. "I'm almost done," He replies gruffly, turning the nearly cooked beef in the pan to accentuate the statement. 

You huff, resting your hands against the counter top. "So you deem me useless?" 

He lets out a low chuckle at that, raw and real — the rare sound so addicting to your ears. His free hand finds your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt absently. The touch is mundane, simple, and somehow it manages to set your skin aflame. 

"Won't you let me do this for you?" He questions back, like the thought of you offering to help was somehow a blow to his attempt at cooking you a meal. Yet his tone is playful, perhaps he didn't mind at all. 

Deciding to humor him, you nod with an exaggerated groan. "Fine," Gaze flitting over to the kitchen island, you hum, "I'll go set the table then." 

You're reluctant to move from your spot, content with having his hand on your hip. Jungkook seems to share that idea for his grip tightens before he loosens it again. He withdraws his fingers a moment later, letting them skim down your thigh before his arm falls back to his side again. 

The sound of silverware clinking against porcelain is all that can be heard inside the kitchen. You had sat down by the marble island to eat, the meal shared quietly between you. Your stools are pushed close together, closer than necessary but neither of you pull back when a knee is accidentally bumped against the other. 

Jungkook puts additional food onto your plate whenever he sees it running low. Wordlessly placing more rice in front of you, another piece of beef or nudging one of the side dishes in your direction. He doesn't ask before doing so and you don't stop him. 

In the beginning you had found his silence unbearable, like this endless void that you had been tasked to fill with mindless conversation. Sometimes you still felt that way — it was impossible not to. But right now, you didn't mind it. Even when he was quiet he spoke to you. 

An arm brushing yours, a quick glance your way or the glass of water he slid closer to you. You realized that it was his own way of communicating. And so you never called him out on the small, simple actions. 

Instead you use the moment to study him closely. Jungkook was very expressive without meaning to. His brows would furrow as he chewed, sometimes he looked almost frustrated despite clearly enjoying the food, it was quite endearing. He'd lick his top lip between bites, not always, but often enough for you to notice the habit. 

His fingers were always busy, whether it was handling his utensils, reaching for his glass or wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He sat straight in his chair too, making you subconsciously try to mimic his posture — only to fall back into the hunched position you had been in for the past ten minutes. 

Occasionally you would let your gaze dip to his naked chest, roaming the muscle which flexed each time he shifted as much as an inch. Memories of your hands sliding across the same patches of skin come rushing back and you have to shove them down before they got too vivid. 

"So…" You clear your throat into your fist after swallowing down the fifth piece of beef he'd piled onto your plate. Ever since the two of you sat down to eat, you had pondered on how to bring up the topic smoothly. Throwing the word 'sex' out in the middle of your meal made you sweat anxiously, almost more than the actual ordeal of doing it had. 

In the end you opt for a safer, albeit more vague route. "We should probably… Talk." It wasn't the first time those same words had been uttered today and considering that your last conversation is what landed you here, this one scared you. 

Jungkook does not appear as nervous when he takes another bite, slowly placing his fork down on the edge of his plate. He reaches for his glass, taking a long slow sip and you watch intently as his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. 

"We should," He agrees, setting his glass back down before turning in his seat. The new position allows you a clear view of the same tattoos you had spent so much time tracing only an hour ago. 

You blink slowly, registering the fact that he was actually taking the bait you'd hesitantly thrown out, something you hadn't expected him to do in the first place — and thus you hadn't planned the conversation further than that. 

The version of yourself from earlier this afternoon would have probably spoken her mind by now. She seemed to know what she wanted. Hell, she even voiced her desires out loud. 

This version of you is shy. 

The heat between you had simmered down into something quieter, a slowly burning candle instead of a roaring fire. Clarity of what happened upstairs sits heavy on your shoulders and it makes you hesitate. 

Should you tell him that it was a mistake, even when you did not believe it to be? Would it make you feel at ease to hide behind the idea that this had not been real rather than admitting that it had been everything… Perhaps. Still, you remember the tear Jungkook's words had ripped in your chest when he dismissed your first kiss as nothing but that, a mistake. 

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

Beside you, Jungkook sits quietly. His expression is indifferent when he regards you, dark eyes dragging up and down your frame multiple times without finding rest. You wondered if he really was as unbothered by all of this as he tried to appear? 

Both his hands are clasped together over his parted legs — and it is then you notice his fingers. Without the distraction of either the silverware or his glass, they were now tapping rhythmically against one another. You had never seen him do that before, then again, Jungkook rarely took his hands out of his pockets to begin with. 

After another tense moment he's the one to finally sigh. "My children," He begins in a low voice, "Their means of well being exceeds anything else." 

The crease that forms between his brows becomes prominent under the soft kitchen lights. His naked shoulders were drawn up, the flesh of his cheek caught between his teeth as he chewed on it. "I will not let what happened between you and me affect them." 

You nod, gaze dropping to your own hands, currently resting on the marble counter top. "I understand." It would be selfish to think that you could possibly barge in and demand something from him when he already had his arms and heart full. 

When you steal a glance at him through your lashes, you find Jungkook watching you with a conflicted look on his face. "Introducing something like this to them—" He shakes his head, running his restless fingers through his hair. "They're not ready for that." There's a short pause where you're almost inclined to believe that he wants to say more. 

He never does. 

Shifting in your seat, you rub at your wrist — idly fiddling with the beads of the bracelet resting there, the gift from Cassian. You had slipped it back on after your shower, thinking that in some twisted sense, it might protect you. Or maybe it just made you feel closer to the young boy even in his absence. 

Jungkook's eyes follows the movement, his brows furrowing even deeper as he studies the handmade bracelet adorning your wrist. He never comments on it but his heavy gaze remains. 

Another, 'I understand' sits waiting on your tongue — but did you really? Those were his children, their lives and well being were his responsibility. For all the time you had spent with the two of them, you were still not their parent and you never would be. The weight on his back was not yours to carry, so why did you want to try anyway?

"I love Rayne and Cassian." 

Your quiet admission slips out into the warm air and you watch as Jungkook's next exhale catches on his tongue — dark eyes snapping to yours instantly. There's something calculating in the look he sends you, like he was picking you apart with the means of uncovering deceit. He won't find any, you know that he won't for you don't think you'd ever been so certain about anything in your life before. 

And it was easy to say. It was easy to say because the children were easy to love. Cassian's warm and giddy laughter, tiny arms wrapping around your middle when he went in for a tight hug. Rayne's quick witted responses that always seemed to have you smiling. 

Jungkook nods slowly, his gaze drifting across the room before landing on you. He doesn't say anything, but the edges around his sharp eyes have softened into something gentle. 

The silence however, was starting to get to you. The need for reassurance wells up inside your chest like a beast provoked. "It's okay, you know…" Picking at your nails restlessly, you avoid looking at his face, "I mean we didn't—" 

"We had sex." 

His voice is chilling, barely above a murmur. It was the first time any of you had brought it up, the first time you had actually put a label to what happened. It feels scary because now you don't know what comes next. 

Jungkook inhales a deep breath, and though you were no longer meeting his gaze, you knew that his hadn't strayed. "It— It cannot change things, not around the children." There's finality in the way he says it, the same tone he uses whenever he drew a line — he would not discuss this further. 

The sigh that leaves your lips brings your shoulder with it, your chest deflating like a sad balloon. Even so, there's a strange sense of understanding. You knew just as well as he did that it would be selfish to push the boundaries he'd set. To not think of the children who you loved so dearly.

"I want the best for them as well." For some reason that hurts to say, even when you know that you mean it. Burying this moment of shared intimacy as far back in your mind as possible was the reasonable thing to do, and you would, as long as it meant protecting the fragile peace you had found with his kids. 

Silence holds you still for a long while after that. There's still food left but neither of you reach for it. You don't think you could stomach another bite. Jungkook isn't looking at you anymore — that was the worst part, you think. The muscles in his jaw are clenched tight, preventing him from saying things he shouldn't. 

You stand then, grabbing both plates before rounding the kitchen island. The porcelain is smooth, it could have easily slipped from your loose grasp, had you not been paying attention when placing them down in the sink. 

The tips of your fingers were just shy of brushing the handle to turn the faucet on when a dark shadow appears behind you. 

Jungkook's hands are warm and solid as they settle on your hips. The touch is familiar, comfortable even — for a second you almost lean into it, just barely catching yourself in time to feel his naked chest brush against your backside. 

His next exhale puffs down the side of your neck, his voice closer than it had been since he'd left the bed. "I don't regret what happened," He murmurs, palms splaying over your waist as he toys with the hem of your shirt absently. "I hope you don't either," His lips brush the line of your jaw in a silent caress. 

Abandoning the idea of washing the dishes entirely, you allow him to guide you to face him, your lower back pressing against the hard edge of the sink. His eyes are half lidded, laced with the means of his admission. 

"I don't regret it," You whisper, sucking in a sharp breath when his nose bumps against yours. 

He doesn't respond with actual words, but the soft press of his mouth to yours was enough to convey what was on his mind.

This kiss would be the first you shared since the ones passed between you in bed and Jungkook was just as gentle as he had been all day — only this time there was an undercurrent of something else. His tongue finds yours, hesitant in the beginning, as though he was trying to prove himself through the simple action alone. 

His hands tighten around your hips, holding you in place as he crowds you to the sink. It was contradicting every word that had been uttered since you sat down to eat, where both of you know that you should pull back yet neither of you can bring yourself to do just that. 

You would allow yourself to have this, just this one kiss. 

Jungkook parts from you a moment later, reluctantly placing a last peck to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. You couldn't make out his expression from this close, left to feel only his warm breath on your face. 

"Let me get dressed," He says when lifting a hand to cradle your cheek, thumb dragging across the skin there tenderly, "I'd like to drive you home, if you'll allow me." 

The leather seats of Jungkook's car were a warm contrast to the cold November air when you climbed into the passenger seat half an hour later. By now the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, leaving the yellow flicker of the street lights to lead the way. 

Jungkook hadn't said much since heading back upstairs to get dressed and comb his hair back. His clothes were now neatly in place, though he had skipped the coat entirely for the sake of the comfortable temperature inside the vehicle. He looks much different from the man you had seen today and there's familiarity in the composed way he holds himself now. 

You study the length of his forearm when he pulls out of the driveway, gaze trailing along the tattoos reaching all the way past his knuckles and onto his fingers where they slide across the wheel. 

A few minutes pass in silence. The streets are nearly vacant despite it being no later than six thirty and you drive past house after house. Jungkook doesn't need to ask your address anymore, knowing where to take a left without you having to point it out. 

It's not until you come to a stop by a red light that he finally speaks. "Principles of Internal Medicine?" His voice is gruff from disuse, inked hand wrapped around the clutch as he sends you a questioning look through the corner of his eye. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he was referring to the book he had found — the one that had played such a big part in the events leading you here. You clear your throat, nodding awkwardly as you force yourself to study the blaring red above, wishing it would turn green. "Yeah…" You murmur, "It's study material." 

Part of you wonders if bringing the topic up would somehow undo the progress you had made earlier this afternoon. Perhaps he would realize just how grave a mistake this had all been when reminded of the lie you had told him. But Jungkook simply hums, the sound low and almost comforting. 

"Med school?" He asks when putting the car in motion as the light shifts. 

Nodding, you turn to gaze out through the window, watching the houses disappear one by one as they became replaced with tall apartment complexes. "I'm in my first year," You say, shrugging like it was no matter, when in reality, it couldn't be further from it. 

Jungkook makes a right turn, shifting the car's gear when falling smoothly into the new lane. "That's good," He muses, sending you a glance through the corner of his eye, "Do you like it?" 

You pause at that, pursing your lips as you thought of how to answer him. In the end you realized that you were tired of lying. "I do. It's my biggest dream." You shyly admit, picking at the seams of your pants gingerly. 

In the driver's seat Jungkook is quiet for a while, his attention is fixed on the changing scenery in front of him. When you stop by another red light he sighs, "It's nice, having a dream you can chase, it gives you purpose." 

Nails dragging along the fabric clinging to your legs, you frown — not quite sure what to make of that. Jungkook doesn't seem intent on explaining himself further, his focus was on the road, fingers drumming softly against the wheel. 

"Did you go to university?" You then ask, turning your head to look at him properly. 

The lines on his face hardened slightly at your question, the corner of his mouth tugging downward just enough for it to be noticeable under the street lights that reflected through the windows. "No," He simply says, stepping on the gas lightly when the sign ahead flickers to green. 

That surprises you. Jungkook took his own children's education very seriously, you had always imagined him to be at the top of his classes. But he hadn't gone to university at all…? Despite curiosity clawing at you impatiently, you don't continue to prod, choosing to leave the subject alone as the familiar neighborhood you called home floats into vision. 

The car comes to a stop just outside the entrance leading you inside. You weren't entirely sure that one was even allowed to park here, but before you can voice your concern, the door to the driver's side shuts and Jungkook is gone. 

He rounds the car in a few strides, opening your own door for you, which felt almost a little cheesy — though you don't comment on it when accepting his extended hand and climbing out. 

You stand there for a moment, watching a few by-passers who paid you little mind. Jungkook has yet to let go of your hand, you don't acknowledge it. His palm his the warmth that the cold evening lacks and you want to hold on to it, just a little longer. 

"I would follow you to the door but…" He jerks his chin in the direction of his car, "I'm not so sure I'm allowed to park here." 

The giggle bubbling from your chest is enough to have a nearby lady walking her dog pause, but neither of you spare her a glance. Jungkook's gaze lingers on yours as he watches the grin you're unable to keep from your face. His lip twitches into something that could've almost been mistaken for a small smile, had you not known better. 

"I'm sure I'll make it from here," You assure him, eyes dropping to the way his thumb stroked your knuckles. 

Jungkook nods slowly, still holding onto you when he should've let go already. The crease between his brows had eased up and under the gentle glow of the street lights he looks younger — reminiscent of a time you had never experienced with him. 

He sighs, nodding to himself as he lets his hand drop. "Goodnight then," He says, and for a second you could've sworn he wanted to close the distance again. 

Your laughter has ebbed out into a small smile. You didn't want the night to end, it feels like it had barely started before getting robbed from your grasp again. Yet you take a small step back, sending him a timid wave, "Goodnight." 

Turning to walk inside, you try to ignore the weight of his gaze on your back when you fumble with your keys, unlocking the heavy door that would take you into the large building. 

With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you dare steal a final glance over your shoulder. 

Jungkook is leaned against the side of his car, arms folded across his chest where he regards you from across the pavement. It was impossible to make out his expression from this far away — but you would like to imagine that he was smiling too. 

── [ ✉️ ] If you caught a spelling mistake actually let me know, like, but in private so to not ruin my sexy mysterious and prolific image of course... Yes, please share your thoughts with me, I love to read them <3