#armpirate

The air inside Jungkook's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. Jungkook was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long tattooed fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

Jungkook chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Jeon wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, Jungkook. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jungkook smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

Jungkook stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment.

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

Jungkook smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, Jungkook. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," Jungkook finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Jeon. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body.

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" Jungkook loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying.

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away.

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks.

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers".

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink.

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality.

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about".

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do".

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door.

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said.

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them.

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and Jungkook, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce?

The doors remained closed, and Jungkook's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

Jungkook watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Jungkook's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Jungkook's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

Jungkook went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing.

Jungkook's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with.

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt Jungkook's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it.

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. Jungkook had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance.

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on Jungkook. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him.

Jungkook, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Jeon. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

Jungkook led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of Jungkook or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it.

At least with Jungkook you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to.

Jungkook's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, Jungkook leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Jungkook let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off.

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when Jungkook leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself.

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

Jungkook sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and Jungkook's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

Jungkook's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. Jungkook simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you.

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. Jungkook followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to Jungkook, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

Jungkook took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests.

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Jungkook sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good.

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, Jungkook was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard Jungkook's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find Jungkook already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," Jungkook said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, Jungkook."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask Jungkook for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

Jungkook's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either.

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it.

Two could play that game.

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. Jungkook gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second.

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you.

Jungkook blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious.

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp.

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much.

You didn't need to ask, because Jungkook moved to the next item the moment you stepped away.

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet Jungkook could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not.

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, Jungkook felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again.

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you.

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response.

He was insufferable.

The car ride to Jungkook's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. Jungkook sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury.

"Home sweet home," Jungkook said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," Jungkook said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you.

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," Jungkook said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat.

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered.

Jungkook stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Jungkook said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with Jungkook, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. Jungkook always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out Jungkook filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when Jungkook nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, Jungkook! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

Jungkook was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, Jungkook didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have.

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Jungkook's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Jungkook!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"Jungkook, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. Jungkook carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

Jungkook slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, Jungkook didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and Jungkook had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape.

That's when you saw him, Jungkook, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, Jungkook didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" Jungkook stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced.

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please".

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" Jungkook's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," Jungkook said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice".

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Jungkook's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

Jungkook smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

Jungkook's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

Jungkook stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore.

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck.

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell.

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," Jungkook whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck.

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you.

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him.

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. Jungkook had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through.

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though.

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

Jungkook slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both?

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him.

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls.

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more.

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him.

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him.

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm.

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again.

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. Jungkook barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it.

You were so addictive.

Jungkook picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom.

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong.

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine".

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod.

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him.

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. Jungkook softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. Jungkook was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was Jungkook's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Eunwoo's, you realized after a second.

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Eunwoo asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," Jungkook said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever Jungkook tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. Jungkook's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. Jungkook sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room.

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, Jungkook. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, Jungkook? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

Jungkook's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But Jungkook wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," Jungkook said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" Jungkook snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that Jungkook never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well.

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, Jungkook. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this".

Not when you couldn't trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings.

It was too much.

Jungkook's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too".

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" Jungkook said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"Jungkook, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Eunwoo. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

Jungkook laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

Jungkook leaned back against the passenger seat, the low hum of the car engine blending with the soft playlist his colleague, Mingyu, had playing on the stereo. It was a rare break from the structured chaos of military life, and Jungkook still wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up accepting Mingyu's invitation to spend the holidays at his place.

"You're gonna love it," Mingyu had said, grinning as he threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car earlier that morning. "Y/n makes the best holiday food, and the vibe's just... different. You'll see."

"Thanks again for inviting me" Jungkook said now, glancing over at Mingyu, whose focus was split between the road and his casual commentary about how cold it always got in their hometown during the holidays.

"No problem. Can't have you stuck at the base during break, eating pre-packaged trash. And besides, Y/n's been wanting to meet you forever. She loves hearing my stories about how I carried your butt during training," Mingyu teased.

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes. "Carried me? Right. You couldn't even..."

Mingyu's laughter cut him off, the kind that made it hard not to smile along. Despite their constant banter, Jungkook had always appreciated Mingyu's warmth. It was one of the things that had made him such a good friend, both on and off duty.

The car pulled up to a modest but inviting house tucked behind a line of bare trees, its porch lit with soft golden lights. Jungkook stepped out, his boots crunching against the icy driveway as he stretched. His breath curled into the cold air, and for a moment, he let himself soak in the quiet that only winter seemed to bring.

Jungkook followed him inside, shaking off the chill. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and pine. He stepped into the living room, his gaze moving over the soft, glowing decorations scattered across shelves and windows. Then his eyes landed on you.

You weren't quite sure when your boyfriend would show up, but you were dying to see him. Despite how cold it was outside, you managed to put on his favorite outfit: a pair of shorts that barely cupped your ass and a thin top that he had always managed to take off easily.

The click of the door, heard from your room, almost had you jumping in excitement in your place, biting your lip before you finally chose to walk downstairs to meet him.

You were expecting your boyfriend, but not the man who was behind him. Mingyu was quite big, but those doe-eyed man's shoulders managed to oversize your boyfriend's.

Jungkook barely registered Mingyu's playful retort because, for a second, it felt like time had slowed. You were stunning, not just in the way you carried yourself, but in the ease of your smile and the warmth in your dark eyes. You weren't what Jungkook had expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he actually had bothered to imagine you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming with someone?" it was your first question as you walked downstairs, closing the gap to slap your boyfriend's arm.

"It'd be better if I leave" Jungkook got cut off by you, big eyes looking at him over Mingyu's shoulder.

"No, I didn't mean that" you sighed. "It's just... this dickhead should've told me first. I'm Y/n".

"I know" he smiled, quickly nodding. "You're everything he talks about in the base".

And now Jungkook knew why.

"Let me guess... Jungkook?" you pointed at him, looking unsure, but at the same time knowing you were about to give the right answer.

"You got it right".

Your laugh was soft, but it resonated. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jungkook," you said, extending a hand.

Jungkook shook it, his palm warm against yours, while he noticed the distance you had built. Maybe it was that he just wanted to feel you closer, while you were keeping the safety of each other's personal space.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, his voice steady even as something in his chest stirred.

He told himself it was just nerves. Or maybe the exhaustion from months of routine, of walls and regulations. Whatever it was, he ignored it.

You were Mingyu's.

And Jungkook had no intention of complicating that.

But as the evening unfolded and conversation flowed freely between the three of you, he couldn't shake the strange pull he felt toward you. Every laugh you shared, every subtle gesture, seemed to light something within him. It was subtle, unspoken, but undeniably there.

Jungkook had told himself, over and over, throughout the months he dragged after knowing you that it was just a fleeting crush, a strange little inconvenience brought on by proximity and circumstance. But the more time passed, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

It didn't help that you weren't the kind of woman he could ignore. Every time Mingyu mentioned you in passing, with his face lighting up with affection, it made something twist uncomfortably in Jungkook's chest. He hated the feeling. Hated that his mind lingered on stolen glances and shared laughter from the few times he had seen you.

It was getting worse, though. Much worse.

You visited the base once, just over a month after the holidays, surprising Mingyu with homemade snacks and your bright, warm presence that seemed to brighten the cold halls of their quarters. Jungkook hadn't known you were coming, but the moment your laughter echoed down the hallway, he knew.

He was mid-conversation with another soldier when you appeared, walking beside Mingyu with a radiant smile and a bag slung over your shoulder. You looked out of place in the best way, soft in a world of hard lines and camouflage.

"Jungkook!" you called out when you spotted him, your hand lifting in a small wave.

He froze for a moment, the sound of your voice cutting through everything else. Forcing a smile, he raised a hand in return, his stomach twisting into a knot as you approached. He didn't expect you there, and even less looking so bright with that short flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh.

He needed you to hug him to finally realize he wasn't going crazy with his own thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," he said, his voice steady even as he fought to keep his expression neutral, stepping back to look you in the eyes.

"Surprise!" you beamed. "I couldn't let Mingyu go too long without something sweet to snack on. And I packed extra for you, too. Thought you might appreciate it."

Your kindness was as effortless as it was genuine. That was the worst part. You weren't trying to make his heart race or send him spiraling into feelings he didn't want. You were just... you.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, taking the small package you handed him. Your fingers brushed briefly, and he cursed the way his pulse quickened.

Mingyu, oblivious as always, grinned at the interaction. "See? Told you she's the best. You don't know how lucky I am"

Jungkook's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, his gaze flicking to you, who was already chatting with another soldier nearby. "You're really lucky."

The rest of your visit was a blur of polite small talk and stolen glances that Jungkook wished he could erase from his memory. When you finally left, Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, talking about you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the chaos of military life.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook felt like he was losing a battle he couldn't even admit he was fighting.

Each passing week only made it harder to ignore. Every time he caught himself thinking about you, he'd push the thoughts away, burying them under layers of duty and loyalty. But they always came back, stronger and more insistent, until it felt like he was carrying a weight he couldn't shake.

And the worst part was knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

If he thought it was going to be a temporary crush, he couldn't be more wrong. And what made the least sense for him was the way it kept growing bigger with the little he actually saw you. But hell, the little he saw you was enough to have a huge impact on his system and the way his brain worked to be wrapped around you.

If you wore a new gloss, it was enough for him to keep thinking about the way it'd taste on your lips if he kissed you. If you did something new to your hair, he kept coming up with ways of brushing the few strands that escaped your hairstyle and getting you to smile shyly. And the most simple thoughts turned into the most primitive when he was alone in his room, reminiscing of how your clothes always looked good on you. It only made him wonder how good what was underneath would look.

You were a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Something he couldn't reach, but something he couldn't escape either.

He needed it to get it to stop.

That was why he agreed when you came up with a blind date for him. Jungkook knew he should've said no the moment you brought it up, but his desperation to get you out of his head was bigger than his common sense.

"I have this friend," you had said, your eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm that always made his heart skip a beat. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. I think you two would really hit it off!"

He'd tried to decline politely, but you had a way of being insistent without overstepping. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a crowded cinema on a Friday night with someone he barely knew while you and Mingyu sat right next to them.

His date, Hana, was nice enough, chatty and kind, exactly as you had described. But Jungkook couldn't focus. Every smile she gave him, every laugh they shared over popcorn, felt hollow. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the woman who had orchestrated this evening in the first place, the same woman who was sitting at his left, oblivious of how crazy you drove him.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie, and the theater fell into a hushed silence. Jungkook shifted in his seat, trying to settle his restless thoughts, but the more he tried to focus on the screen, the harder it became.

It didn't help that your voice still lingered in his head, your laugh from earlier in the night replaying over and over.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing at first. It was an unconscious movement he didn't quite control. His hand, resting on the armrest, slipped lower, brushing against your skirt where it met your thigh. It was an innocent gesture at first, or at least, he told himself it was. But as his fingers pressed just a fraction further, he felt the warmth of your skin, the soft fabric of your dress.

His breath hitched.

You tensed beside him, turning slightly. "Jungkook?" you whispered, your tone more confused than alarmed.

Realizing what he'd done, he immediately withdrew his hand, his heart pounding. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I... hmm... I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

You offered a small, uncertain smile, brushing it off with a light shrug. "It's fine," you whispered back, your focus returning to the screen.

But Jungkook couldn't move past it. His stomach churned, guilt and shame twisting inside him. He hadn't mistaken you for Hana, not in the physical sense, at least. But in the darkness of the theater, his mind had wandered, and for a fleeting, selfish moment, he'd let his emotions take over.

He spent the rest of the movie barely moving, his body rigid as he counted down the minutes until the credits rolled. When the lights came up, you seemed as sweet and nice as always, as if that moment hadn't meant anything for you.

But Jungkook couldn't shake the weight of what had happened, or the realization that he was spiraling into feelings he had no business indulging.

Your concern for his happiness, your effort to set him up with someone, had only made things worse. You saw him as a friend, nothing more. And yet, his own desires had betrayed not only his loyalty to Mingyu but the respect he'd tried to maintain for you yourself.

As you exited the theater and Mingyu teased him about the "cute couple" they made, Jungkook forced a laugh, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.

Something had to change.

Because if he didn't find a way to stop this, he knew it would destroy him, and everything he valued most.

Those were the only thoughts in his head while he stared at the ceiling that same night, trying to know what was the best way to put a solution to everything going on. Maybe it was time for him to stop his friendship with Mingyu and free himself from the pain and the trouble.

A sound broke through the silence. It wasn't loud, it was obvious he wasn't supposed to hear it, but it was followed by another sound that was heard clearer the second time. Your moans were soft and cautious, almost as if coming from the back of your throat by how hard you tried to keep them to yourself.

But he heard. Of course he heard it.

Jungkook didn't know when he disconnected, or more like when he allowed his brain to come up with images of you. But when he realized it was way too late and he liked it too much to stop it.

His fingers were closed around himself under the blankets, his eyes closed and his lips parted as the thought of him being the one getting those sounds out of you started being more powerful. Not only powerful, it was so vivid he could almost feel his digits pressing on your flesh to keep you in place, your warm breath on his neck while your fingers played with his hair. He twitched on the spot when he replaced the emptiness of his hand with warmth inside you. He was sure you'd take him well, knowing he was meant to be pounding into you instead of rubbing against his palm. He also knew he could make those moans sound louder, making you unable to control yourself, no matter who was in the next room. You'd be loud and desperate for him to let you reach your orgasm. He could even hear your whimpers against his ear, with your thin breath coating his lobe. Your nails would drag down his spine and your legs would close tight around his waist, because he knew you probably were the type to get so blinded by pleasure that you had no control over your body.

All of his muscles tensed when he pictured you reaching the climax, his toes almost curling by pleasure while he had to gulp the groan that almost interrupted your prolonged moan when you came, not wanting to cut how good you sounded.

If you ever said his name with that same needy tone, he knew he'd cum at the first letter you pronounced.

Reality hit him again when he blinked in the darkness, realizing he fell back again into the same course he promised he wouldn't follow a few weeks back. Without making a sound, he got out of his room to clean himself up.

Right when he was just coming out of the bathroom, you were walking through the corridor, coming back from the stairs. Your cheeks were a pale read, your eyes big and still dark, your hair messy, but that same friendly smile remained.

"How was the date? Did you like Hana?" your eyebrows raised with curiosity. "She's nice, right?"

But Jungkook didn't care about how nice Hana was. He didn't care whether they'd make a cute couple or not, because the only thing in his head at that moment was the idea of you asking that because you were minimally jealous, and not because you were genuinely hoping something would come out of that blind date.

"I... I don't think so" Jungkook grimaced, avoiding your eyes.

"Aw really?" you almost pouted. "Why not?"

It was his chance, or so he thought. For once he didn't let his consciousness get in between what he wanted, he didn't allow caution to stop him from taking the chance you were offering.

He pulled you in the bathroom, closing the door right behind you before cornering you against it. You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat against your eardrums, slowly taking you away from reality, leaving you deaf to anything that wasn't Jungkook's voice.

"If I tell you 'why not', I'm afraid we'll have a big problem" he admitted, his hand slowly raising up to your head level.

Your tongue moved through your lips, but it stayed as dry while his eyes pushed you to do the craziest things that came to mind "Jungkook, I..."

"Don't say my name" he cut you off. "Don't say my name or I'll lose control of myself, and I promise you there will be no turning back".

What were you supposed to say? No words were able to come out of your lips. What was he expecting you to say?

"I didn't like Hana because I kept thinking how your lips would still taste sweet, even after the popcorn you were eating. I didn't get confused and touch you when I wanted to touch Hana. I wanted to touch you, at least know what it felt like. I'm going crazier every day for you, and I don't know how much I'll take it".

"I'm with Mingyu" you confronted.

You used those words, hoping they'd work for Jungkook the same way they worked for you. But they had no effect on him.

Your sentence seemed like a lame excuse to stop yourself. It wasn't a straight 'no' because you were sure of your decision. It was a weak excuse to get to know whether that mattered to him as little as it started to matter for you since you first met Jungkook.

"I know" he scoffed, "of course I know" his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to be in his place tonight. Just the thought of having you around me has kept me satisfied for a while, but tonight... Fuck, tonight I realized how much I need that to stop being a thought and be a reality".

You hated the way your body reacted to his words, but you hated even more how he didn't need those words to make you feel the way you did.

"I..." you were so close to succumbing, so close to ruin it all. "No".

It was the only word you could pronounce, the only word that wouldn't hint at how indecisive you actually were and wouldn't expose your shaky and unsure tone before you pushed him away.

It would be a mistake. A big one. And you couldn't do that to Mingyu, not to yourself. You were better than all that.

Your heart stopped when he paused your steps before you could reach the door to your room, forcing you to turn around and face him, before you were back against a wall.

Jungkook was aware of the way you looked at him before you stepped out of the bathroom, and seeing you under Mingyu's t-shirt pushed him to fire the last bullet. The only thought was how possessive he felt of you when he noticed you were wearing his military t-shirt, another detail reminding him you weren't his.

He would regret it the next day but, at least, it was something he'd get out of his chest.

He kissed you.

His hands were cupping your cheeks while his lips moved slowly on yours. For a moment, that was the only thing that mattered. It wasn't the way you both knew each other, or the circumstances... you could only feel him.

Your fingers tugged on his t-shirt on his waist, too unsure to pull him closer, but too needy to let go. His lips felt different, like he was familiar with you despite not kissing you before. He treated you with such care while showing off how much he craved you, that you thought it couldn't be real.

You gasped when his tongue slid through your lips, finding yours, barely touching before you broke the kiss again after hearing your boyfriend calling you from inside the room.

You felt so guilty because of how much you liked it, and you also felt guilty because you couldn't give Jungkook what he wanted.

What had you done?

He knew, by the way you looked at him as you walked back to the room, that there was no point in trying, because Mingyu would always be your choice.

The airport was buzzing with life, a constant ebb and flow of people coming and going. You stood just outside the arrival gate, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if the gesture alone could shield you from the nervousness to take a toll on your sanity.

You didn't want to be there. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

When Mingyu had asked you to pick Jungkook up, the instinctive response had been a hard no. But you'd hesitated, your heart betraying your mind. You hadn't seen him in weeks, not since that night, when everything got out of control between you two.

Actually, he set a whole ocean in between you when he left for a special mission in another country. Yet, that distance only made him more present in your life. Your head could only wonder whether he was alright, because whenever you asked Mingyu, he never had enough information that could help you to go on.

During those moments, you regretted only kissing him once.

The memory was still vivid, a flash of heat and regret tangled together in a kiss that should never have happened. He'd kissed you as if he'd been holding back for far too long, and the way your body had responded, the way your heart had raced, made it all more dangerous, because you couldn't remember reacting that same way with your boyfriend -not even when you started dating.

But you had returned to him that same night, guilt pressing heavy on your chest, and Jungkook had pulled away, physically, emotionally, entirely.

The distance he'd created had been suffocating. You'd told yourself it was for the best, that you two needed it. And yet, when Mingyu asked you to help out this once, your excuses had faltered.

Deep down, you wanted to see him.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you suspected Jungkook felt the same.

Your thoughts scattered when the sliding doors opened, and Jungkook emerged, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from the long flight, his jaw set with the faintest tension, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Jungkook," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the airport surrounded you, but it felt distant, like you were suspended in your own little bubble of awkward silence and unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to come," he finally said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder.

"Mingyu asked me to," you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

It was an excuse that you didn't believe yourself.

Your boyfriend asked you to, but you could've said no. You could've used work as an excuse not to be there, and you knew your boyfriend would've taken it.

You sighed, your posture relaxing slightly. "But... I didn't mind."

That last part slipped out before you could stop it, and Jungkook's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place. Relief, hope... you didn't know, but it was positive.

"Let's go," you added quickly, turning on your heel and heading toward the exit.

The walk to the car was quiet, the tension between you palpable. You unlocked the doors, and both climbed in, the faint smell of pine from your air freshener filling the silence.

"How has it been?" you managed to ask.

He grimaced, his expression unsure while he twitched on his seat "It was... okay. Let's say the noise these few weeks have kept me distracted. Some thoughts are way louder and disturbing" he admitted, his tattooed arm resting next to the window.

It didn't take much for you to know what he was hinting at. Any hopes you had to be able to ignore what happened between you two, vanished when he confessed he felt as disturbed as you did.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the words you'd been holding back tumbled out. "Why did you do it?"

Jungkook turned to you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"You know what," you said, gripping the wheel tightly. "The kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I couldn't keep pretending," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't keep acting like I didn't feel something for you. Like I didn't..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know what happened that night, but I felt like I needed to do it. After so much time, it just felt right".

Your chest tightened. You didn't know what you'd expected, but his honesty left you breathless.

"You didn't say anything after," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was better that way," he replied. "You went back to Mingyu, and I knew I had no right to... to want anything more. That's why I volunteered for this new mission. It was better than staying here."

Your grip on the wheel faltered for a moment, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You swallowed hard, focusing on the road.

"So you don't regret it?" you managed to ask.

"Do you?" he questioned immediately after, eyes narrowing while trying to read through your body language.

A scoff introduced your reply before you spoke "I asked first".

"No".

The car fell silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't as heavy. There was something unspoken between you, something you both knew couldn't be resolved in one drive.

The ride had grown quieter, but the tension between you buzzed like static in the air. You couldn't focus, your hands gripping the steering wheel as your thoughts ran in circles around Jungkook's answer.

It lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Did you actually regret that kiss?

When you reached the mall parking lot, a stop you'd insisted on under the guise of needing to grab something, you parked the car and let out a long breath.

"You don't have to come in," you said, your voice clipped.

"I don't mind," Jungkook replied casually, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

Of course he wouldn't stay in the car. He would never make things easy for you.

The two of you walked through the glass doors of the mall, the buzz of activity offering a welcome distraction. You kept your focus on the shops ahead, determined to ignore the way Jungkook's presence seemed to fill the space beside you.

"What do you need here?" he asked, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you strolled past storefronts.

"Just... something for Mingyu," you lied, thinking that bringing up his name would work as a stop for the two of you

"Hmm," he hummed while nodding slowly, his tone unreadable.

You stopped in front of a small boutique, pretending to be interested in the display of watches in the window. But your focus shattered when you felt Jungkook lean in, his voice low near your ear, the warmth of his chest almost hitting your back.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm not avoiding you."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "You are," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the entrance of the store, but before you could take another step, Jungkook caught your wrist.

"Y/n," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

You turned reluctantly to face him, your heart pounding. Thinking you'd look stronger, you ended up feeling smaller.

"What?" you snapped, though the bite in your voice was weak.

His dark eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you forgot where you were. The bustling mall around you faded, leaving just the two of you in the small pocket of space they occupied.

"I'm going to make you want me," Jungkook said, his tone calm but resolute.

"W... What?"

"These days I've been away... I made the decision that I wouldn't give up on you" he confessed. "I tried, but it didn't work out, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you just need something to help you realize".

Your lips parted, a mix of shock and defiance flashing across your face. "Jungkook, stop."

"I mean it," he continued, stepping just close enough to make your breath catch. "You can keep pretending this doesn't exist, but you feel it just as much as I do."

Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad... But I'll let you be the one taking the lead the next time".

"I'm with Mingyu," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It didn't stop sounding like a momentary stop, instead of a determined rejection. It was an excuse that kept giving him hints on how you felt. Not by the words, but the tone and weak look in your eyes.

"And I hate that I'm saying this while you are," he admitted, his gaze softening. "But it doesn't change how I feel. And I know it doesn't change how you feel."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. "You don't know how I feel."

"You're right, I don't" he countered, his tone firm. "But one thing for sure: you were waiting for that kiss as much as I did. You keep waiting for me to kiss you, I bet you're dying for me to do it right now" he continued. "Next time we kiss though... I doubt I'll be able to go on with just that".

You shook your head, breaking eye contact as you turned away. "Don't waste your time. Nothing is going to happen"

He didn't follow you this time, letting you walk ahead into the store. But as you browsed aimlessly, his words echoed in your mind, each one carving deeper into the walls you'd tried to build between you two.

It wasn't simple. It never could be.

The party was alive with music and chatter, the kind of event where everyone seemed carefree, wrapped up in their own little bubbles of fun, laughs and alcohol. You, however, felt far from carefree.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor with Mingyu, his arm draped possessively over your shoulder as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You tried to smile, to play the role of the attentive girlfriend, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the man standing across the room.

Jungkook.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his black button-up, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough of his tanned skin to make heads turn. He leaned casually against the bar, a drink in his hand, his gaze flicking toward you every so often. You tried not to look at him, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist.

It was as if having him so far from you only helped to pull you closer. And that was what happened the whole night. Jungkook didn't walk around you, even Mingyu was surprised by the distance he had settled, although he shrugged it off thinking his friend was just out to get on with someone.

If he only knew...

The tension between you two had been unbearable ever since the airport.Thinking it couldn't get any worse than the day after your first kiss, you were proved wrong. The unresolved words, the unspoken confessions... they lingered like ghosts in every glance you shared. And tonight, it felt as though the air crackled with it, threatening to ignite at any moment.

You adjusted the hem of your dress, a sleek black number that clung to your figure in all the right places. You thought it was Mingyu's gift when it arrived at your apartment, complete with a note that read, Can't wait to take it off tonight.

But when you'd mentioned it to him earlier, Mingyu had laughed. "I can't wait to take off any clothes you're wearing, to be honest. But, especially, this new dress. You have such a good taste" he'd said casually.

It was then you realized.

The handwriting on the note wasn't Mingyu's, but it wasn't like you cared enough to realize. You wanted it so bad to be your boyfriend's, that you ignored all the details.

The realization had sent a ripple of unease through you, but it wasn't enough to stop you from wearing it.

Jungkook's gaze darkened every time it landed on you, his jaw clenching as he watched you laugh at something Mingyu whispered in your ear. You weren't immune to his jealousy, but instead of feeling guilty, it fueled something in you, a twisted desire to test his limits.

So when Mingyu kissed you, you let him.

The kiss was long and slow, a public display that left no room for doubt about your relationship. Your hands trailed up Mingyu's chest, and though your mind wasn't fully in the moment, you didn't stop yourself. Even your boyfriend was surprised by how touchy you were being.

When you dared to peek through half-lidded eyes, you saw Jungkook. His knuckles whitened around his glass before he abruptly turned away.

It was petty, and you knew it. But it didn't stop you from feeling a small, vindictive thrill.

Jungkook didn't stay by the bar for long. When you glanced over again, he was on the dance floor, a striking brunette by his side. She was tall, confident, her hand sliding along his chest as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Your stomach twisted, the sight of them together setting your nerves on fire. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Mingyu and the party, but your eyes betrayed you, following Jungkook as he danced with the woman.

He didn't look at you, not once. It was as if he'd decided to pretend you didn't exist.

And yet, every move he made felt deliberate. The way he leaned into the brunette's touch, the way he let her lips graze his ear, all of it was meant to taunt you.

It was working.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy that you couldn't suppress, your grip tightening around your drink. Mingyu noticed, pulling your attention back to him with a soft smile.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a little warm in here."

Mingyu didn't seem convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his conversation.

You, however, couldn't let it go. Your gaze found Jungkook again, and this time, he was looking back. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

His expression was unreadable, but his message was clear.

Two can play this game.

Your heart pounded, and you hated the way it thrilled you. The way his attention, whether born of anger or jealousy, still managed to consume you entirely.

The game was far from over, but you weren't sure who would come out the winner, or if winning even mattered anymore.

The pounding bass of the music reverberated through the walls, muffled and distant in the small confines of the bathroom. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Your lipstick was still flawless, your dress clinging to you like a second skin.

You should've felt guilty for what you were about to do. You really should've.

But the fire in your chest, the jealousy that had flared every time you saw him with that brunette on the dance floor, had burned through your restraint.

The door clicked open behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even said a word. You didn't let him take one step forward when you pushed him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jungkook said, his voice low, his tone carrying that familiar edge of frustration.

"So, do you want me to leave?" you replied, turning to face him with a small, taunting smile.

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching, confused by your calm demeanor. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture stiff as he leaned back against the closed door.

"You've been playing games all night," you said, taking a slow step toward him. "Dancing with her. Ignoring me. Acting like you don't care when we both know you do."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

You took another step, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile floor. "You said you'd make me want you," you murmured, stopping just inches from him. "So why aren't you trying harder?"

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up. "Didn't you tell me to leave you alone?"

"Right after I told you, you said you'd make sure I wanted you" your head tilted, the tip of your fingers gently brushing against the exposed tattoos on his arm.

"You don't know what you're asking for"

"Don't I?" you asked, tilting your head. Your fingers trailed up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his shirt, until they rested just over his racing heartbeat.

His hand shot up, catching your wrist, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"You seem to be a little too much into what I'm doing" he snapped back at you, though his voice lacked the confidence.

"Don't come up with that" you countered, your lips curving into a sly smile. "Don't act like you haven't been looking at me, dying to touch me all night."

The tension snapped like a live wire.

Jungkook let go of your wrist, only to grab your waist, pulling your flush against him. "You're really pushing me, Y/n," he said through gritted teeth, his breath warm against your face.

"Maybe I want to see how far you'll go," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.

His resolve crumbled in an instant.

Your lips crashed together, the kiss hungry and frenzied, months of pent-up desire pouring out in every movement. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, sliding down the curve of your back as if he couldn't get enough.

You matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your back hitting the door when he made the both of you turn. The cool wood contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're going to regret this," Jungkook murmured against your lips, though his actions said otherwise.

"Then give me something to regret," you shot back, your voice breathless.

For a moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the sound of your breathing, the faint thrum of music beyond the door, and the way you fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting far too long to connect.

His smirk only disappeared when he kissed you back again, pressing his body against yours, not wanting to let a single centimeter ruin the experience of feeling you against his body. It was like his dreams were coming true whenever your fingertips brushed the back of his hair every time your tongues touched.

But reality was never far behind.

A loud knock on the door startled you both, and you pulled back, your chest heaving. Jungkook's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Occupied!" he called out, his voice rough.

You laughed softly, the sound almost bitter. You straightened your dress, smoothing out the fabric cupping his cheeks again. Your tongue traced his upper lip, instantly getting him to lick it as a response before Jungkook tried to pull you for another kiss.

"You won't be taking this dress off tonight" you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Really?" Jungkook challenged, his gaze piercing as he looked at you.

Your resolve wavered, but you forced yourself to turn away, your hand on the door handle. "Really"

As you stepped out into the chaos of the party, your heart pounded in your chest, your body still buzzing with the memory of his touch.

The door closed behind you, the sound reverberating through the small entryway of Jungkook's apartment. He kept looking at you concerned. When he heard you through the phone, he knew something was off, but now that he was seeing the state you were in, he knew it was worse than he could imagine.

"Y/n?" he asked,getting your attention, your face flushed and eyes blazing. "What happened? Why are you here so late?"

You didn't answer right away, your fists clenching at your sides as you struggled to find the right words. The argument with Mingyu was still fresh, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

"Why do you keep doing this?" you finally demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts anger and frustration.

Jungkook frowned, stepping back at that attack. "Doing what?"

"You," you spat, pointing at him. "You're always there, always watching, always... lingering in the back of my mind. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me?"

His confusion shifted into something more guarded, his shoulders tensing. "I think you need to calm down," he said carefully.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "I just had the worst fight with Mingyu, and you know what? It wasn't even about him. It was about you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I was mad because he's leaving again, he's leaving me alone for another mission, another stretch of time where I have to sit and wait and pretend like I'm okay with it." your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "But I wasn't yelling at him because of that. Do you know what I was thinking instead of worrying because he won't be with me?" you stopped, your gaze attacking him. "I was fucking glad he is leaving. Do you even realize what this means? I'm the worst girlfriend ever. No matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head. You're there all the damn time with any reason".

Jungkook's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze searching for yours.

He knew Mingyu was leaving. They both discussed it before he finally made the decision. He even remembered the way his friend tried to find out the way to tell you, yet all he could think of was how there would be nothing on the way for him.

"I hate it," you whispered, your voice softening as the anger gave way to something more fragile. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. That when I'm with him, it's your face I see. That this... whatever this is between us, it's ruining me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"You think it's easy for me?" Jungkook said finally, his voice rough. "You think I don't feel the same way? That every time I see you with him, it doesn't tear me apart?"

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show.

"I didn't ask for this, Y/n," he continued, stepping closer to you. "I didn't ask to feel this way about someone I can't have. But here we are. I also hate not being able to look Mingyu in the eyes because all I can think about is his girlfriend. Or how, instead of telling him not to go, I wanted to encourage him to leave".

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as though he were trying to hold himself back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. "Why now?"

There was a brief silence, realizing with his question you had no business there. Why were you there?

"I don't know," you admitted, your eyes glistening. "I just... I needed to see you."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"I know" you whispered, your voice breaking.

And then, as though drawn by an invisible force, you both moved at the same time. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him toward you as his arms wrapped around your waist. Your lips met in a clash of desperation and need, a release of all the emotions you'd been bottling up for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming, neither of you caring about the consequences for the first time.

In a mini second his hands were everywhere they could reach, making your whole body squirm when he cupped your ass with his palms. It was fast, need hitting you two like a truck, barely giving you time to settle what was happening before you were getting rid of each other's clothes.

His tattooed fingers moved down your neck, in between your breasts, feeling your rushed heartbeat against his palm. He could sense you felt the same way he did, but you'd been too stubborn to admit it.

He kept moving down, the heat of your skin raising with every soft touch of his digits, your legs slightly parting when he attempted to slide through your folds. His groan made you throb against the tips, causing his breathing to become heavier.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" he asked with a thin voice, slowly starting to rub your clit in circles.

"I love it" you admitted. Your hand traced his packed chest, going down his marked abs until you moved past his v line "I kept thinking about being with you like this since you first kissed me".

You didn't know, but those words worked like a switch for Jungkook. Hearing from your lips how you were into him as much as he was into you was the little he needed to lose every bit of sanity.

Before your fingers could reach his dick, he pulled you for another kiss. His rough hands went straight to your ass, cupping your cheeks so he could lift your body and have your legs around his waist.

Jungkook didn't take you to the room, he didn't want to waste another second without being linked to you, he had wasted too much time already. You gasped again when your back collided against the wall.

His lips trapped you in an unknown world you didn't know could be so pleasuring. Usually, it was always just about Jungkook. But that night it was all about Jungkook, his taste, his gaze, the way his tongue worshiped your body like he wanted to know and memorize what every bit of you tasted like.

Your body arched for him when he closed his lips around your hard nipple, moving his lips and tongue like he was actually devouring you. You hadn't ever done it, but you were sure you'd be able to cum by the way he was only sucking you.

"Please, Jungkook" you muttered, your fingers getting lost in his strands of hair.

"Ask me" he demanded. "I've been imagining those words for way too long, I need to hear them".

"Fuck me" you asked, looking into his eyes. "Make me regret taking so long to do this"

"You're mine, Y/n," he growled, his eyes darkening, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You didn't respond, but the passion and hunger simmering within you made it clear that you knew a part of you belonged to him before you could admit it.

He reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair, and tugged your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found the delicate skin below your ear, and he nipped and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He leaned in, his eyes blazing with possessive desire, and his lips crushed against yours again, with a hunger that set fire to the pit of your stomach. His tongue delved deep, exploring every hidden crevice of your mouth, whilst his hands clutched at your body, gripping you tightly. That kiss only worked to drown the moan in your mouth as he slowly slid inside you, trying to memorize the feeling, to feel every millimeter in your channel get adjusted to him.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his. It was slow at first, with the two of you wanting to get a taste of what you'd been craving, but were too stubborn to admit. But slowly, the intensity started getting the best of you, his digits denting on your skin as he angled his hips to rock them against you.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans and sighs echoing in the room as you reached for your release. Jungkook's dirty talk fueled your desire, and you eagerly met his thrusts, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that only intensified their pleasure.

"Oh, god, Jungkook," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust harder.

"You like that, don't you?" Jungkook asked, his voice strained with desire. "You like feeling my cock inside you? Hmm? Fucking you like this?"

As you moved together, you found yourself lost in the moment. You had never felt this alive, this desired. Jungkook's dirty talk only added to the experience, his words making you wetter and more eager for him. Every time you thought you couldn't be more into him, he always did something that proved it was only the beginning.

"Yes, Jungkook, harder," Y/n begged, your voice filled with need.

He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. You arched your back again, your hands tangled in Jungkook's hair as you urged him on.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Jungkook sensed it too, because he started pounding into you even harder. The loud dry claps of your bodies echoing through the silence of the room.

"Are you going to cum for me? Do it, baby" his forehead was resting against yours. "I'm going to cum inside you, Y/n. I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a loud cry, you came, your pussy clenching around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook followed soon after, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with his cum, staying like that for a few moments, panting and trying to catch their breath, hoping common sense wouldn't hit you and make you regret what had just happened.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of you, moving his hips back while his hands still carried you. You looked up at him all the way through it, your eyes filled with something else that wasn't regret, yet he couldn't quite decipher what it was. You leaned in and kissed him again.

Although that kiss only meant the night wasn't ending there.

And it didn't.

You laid on top of Jungkook, your long hair cascading down your back as you moved your hips up and down, grinding your pussy against his cock. Your perky breasts bounced with each movement, and Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you, hypnotized by the way your body moved. He reached up and cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples as you moaned with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, throwing your head back as you rode him harder. "Your cock feels so good"

Jungkook smirked, reaching down to spank your ass. "I love how your your tight little pussy takes me so well"

You moaned, biting your bottom lip as you nodded. "Hmm yes"

"Just like that... Show me how bad you want it" as time passed by, he sank deeper on the couch.

Just then, Jungkook's phone started ringing. You paused, looking up at him with a confused expression when he froze for a moment.

You were too drunk with pleasure to think of any possibility that wasn't distracting him from it, your lips moving quick to his neck.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Jungkook reached for his phone, but he didn't answer it. Mingyu had sent him countless messages, he had called a few times, and he knew the reason why was in front of him. He looked at you, knowing the second he mentioned your boyfriend, it all would stop.

He tossed it aside and focused on you, his hands on your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Who fucking cares" he moved forward, hiding his face on your neck. "You're so fucking hot, Y/n," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I could fuck you all day long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Jungkook grinned, his hands on your hips as he guided your movements. He loved how wild and uninhibited you were in bed, how you weren't afraid to take charge and ride him hard. Hell, you were the best fantasy he had ever had, and he finally had you.

"That's right, baby, ride my cock," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You do it so well"

You nodded, unable to speak as you focused on the delicious sensation of Jungkook's cock filling you up. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm, your muscles clenching around him as you rode him harder and faster. The claps of your bodies turning into splashes due to your sticky skin covered in sweat and his load mixed with your juices leaking out of you.

He reached down between you, teasing your clit with his fingers as you moaned into his mouth. You started moving your hips again, grinding against him as you chased your orgasm again.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, breaking the kiss as you threw your head back. "I'm so close. Don't stop". Your nails digged on his skin, all the muscles in your body tensing "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm almost there, Jungkook, I'm almost there."

Jungkook grinned, gripping your hips as he slammed up into you harder. "That's right, baby. Come for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jungkook didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he came hard. You followed him over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as you screamed out your own orgasm while your nails dug into his chest. Jungkook grunted, following you over the edge as he filled you with his cum.

It didn't hit you after the climax, not even after you showered and dressed yourself. It hit you when you walked to the door and he kissed you one last time, with such delicacy and care that you couldn't believe it was the same man you were begging to.

His steps were careful, pinning you against the wall again while cupping your cheeks.

You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do, but one thing for sure: you couldn't let go of Jungkook so easily after that night. 

The music was loud -some mix of funky beats and synth pop- but Jungkook could still hear the soft clink of the ice in your glass from across the bar. You were seated at the far end, alone, just like that first time. Just like before.

He leaned against the brick wall, half in shadow, fingers drumming a slow rhythm against his thigh. The denim of his jacket was worn in all the places your hands used to touch. You always tugged on his sleeves when you laughed, like he was something to hold onto.

You weren't laughing now.

You looked... calm. Pretty. Like nothing was missing.

Except everything was.

You didn't notice him. Not yet.

And just like the first time, some guy, button-down open too far -smile too wide-, saw you sitting there and made his move.

Jungkook stiffened, exhaling slowly through his nose.

He'd timed it. He knew this was when it happened, when you got approached and rolled your eyes so hard he could feel your annoyance from across the room. He'd used that moment to swoop in, smug and playful, pretending to be your boyfriend just to get the creep to back off. It worked like a charm. You laughed, he stayed. And you two talked until the bar closed.

It was the beginning of everything.

So this had to work.

He watched closely now, waiting for the same flicker of irritation on your face, but it didn't come. Instead, you smiled politely at the guy. Laughed, even. Tucked your hair behind your ear like you were actually interested.

Jungkook felt the sharp stab of something he didn't want to name.

The guy leaned in, too close, and Jungkook couldn't stay back anymore. He pushed off the wall and crossed the bar with purpose in his step, heartbeat hammering, sweat pooling at the base of his neck. He rehearsed his lines a thousand times in his head.

Same as before. Same as before. Same as before.

He stopped at your table, resting his hand on the back of your chair like it belonged there.

"Hey, baby," he said, trying to keep it light, teasing. "Sorry I'm late. You didn't wait long, did you?"

You blinked up at him, surprised. The man sitting across from you frowned, shifting in his seat.

"Excuse me?" you said, brows furrowing.

Your voice was soft, unfamiliar even in its familiarity.

Jungkook's smile didn't falter. He had practiced it in the mirror, wanting to do it just like that first night. "You know I hate it when you start drinking without me" he gave the other man a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Mind giving us a minute, bro?"

The man looked between you both, clearly annoyed. But you didn't say anything. You just looked at Jungkook like he was an inconvenient glitch in your night, not someone your soul used to orbit around.

"Whatever," the guy muttered, grabbing his beer and walking away.

Silence settled between you and Jungkook, heavier than the bass vibrating through the walls.

He expected you to be angry, confused. Maybe even impressed like last time. But instead, you stared at him with narrowed eyes and a bemused smile.

"That was... bold," you said, tilting your head. "Do I know you?"

The words punched the air from his lungs like a second car crash.

Those were the words he was so scared to hear when he first knew of your state after the accident.

He didn't visit you a single time you were in the hospital after you woke up, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to bear the idea of you not remembering him. He couldn't bear the idea of not being part of your life any longer.

That was why he asked your friends to erase any trace of him from your apartment, from your phone... He was about to let go, until he thought that maybe that was his chance to start it all over again, to live again the beauty of falling for you, and you falling for him.

You in that pub wasn't a coincidence. Not at all.

He chuckled softly, looking down for a second to hide the devastation in his eyes. "Kind of," he murmured. "We've met. Once or twice."

You looked at him for a long beat. Not with recognition. Not with love. But... curiosity.

"Well, if you're going to crash my night, you might as well sit down."

He blinked.

You gestured to the seat across from you, and he moved slowly, cautiously -as if the world might fall apart again if he moved too fast.

He sat.

You sipped your drink, watching him over the rim of your glass. "So... is this a thing you do often? Pretend to be someone's boyfriend to scare off competition?"

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Only when I'm desperate."

There was a pause. You tilted your head. "And are you?"

He met your gaze. For the first time in weeks, you were looking directly at him. Really looking.

His voice was low, gentle. "I lost something important. I'm just trying to find it again."

You didn't answer right away. You just stared at him, lips twitching like they were debating whether or not to smile. And then -unexpectedly, softly- you did. You smiled. Not because you remembered. Not because you knew what he meant, but because something about him felt warm. Like a song you hadn't heard in years but still knew how to hum.

"Okay, mystery man," you said, tapping your glass against his. "Tell me the story of that thing you're missing, then."

He looked at you, breath catching in his throat. And this time, he let himself hope.

You sat across from him, your finger tracing lazy circles against the condensation on your glass, looking at him attentively as he refused to talk about himself, to go deep in anything that wasn't the moment between you two. And it made you suspicious, but also curious.

"So?" you asked, lips quirking at the corners. "Are you gonna tell me your name, or are we doing the whole mysterious stranger at the bar thing tonight?"

He smirked.

God, it was exactly like the first time.

That smug, amused curl of your lips, that cocky tone as you tilted your head. And he tried to mimic the way he reacted to it, mirroring your smirk. Only this time, there was something behind it. Something heavy in his eyes, buried just deep enough that you couldn't quite reach it.

"No names," he said smoothly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "It ruins the fantasy."

You raised a brow, playing along without thinking. "Oh? And what fantasy is that?"

"The one where you fall in love with me for the night," he replied, not missing a beat. "No expectations. No promises. Just... this."

Your heart skipped, maybe from the way he said it, or maybe from the way he looked at you, like he was seeing more than what was on the surface. It was unnerving, but oddly comforting.

You didn't know him. But something about him felt like déjà vu.

"Hmm," you said, swirling the last of your drink. "Sounds like a line you've used before."

He chuckled under his breath. "Once or twice."

You narrowed your eyes. "Do I look like the kind of girl who falls for strangers in bars?"

"You look like the kind of girl who pretends she doesn't," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Right before she steals the guy's lighter and walks out with his heart."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and it caught you off guard. It felt... real.

"So you think you've got me all figured out?"

"Not yet," he murmured, gaze softening. "But I'd like to."

The words hung between you like a dare.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs, testing him. "Then why don't you tell me something about yourself? Something small."

He hesitated. Not because he didn't want to, but because every answer he had was yours. Every story he could tell was tied to memories you no longer carried.

So instead, he reached for a lie wrapped in truth.

"I box," he said.

You tilted your head. "Box?"

"Yeah. Keeps me sane." he looked down, twisting his ring, a nervous habit he didn't even know he still had. "Started when I was fifteen. Got serious around twenty. It's... one of the only things I'm good at."

"That's not true," you said quietly, before your brain caught up with your mouth.

He looked up sharply, for a second, excited about you possibly remembering something. You blinked, confused at yourself. "I mean, you don't look like someone who only has one skill."

A small smile crept across his face. "You think I look talented, huh?"

"I think you look like you think you're talented."

He let out a breathy laugh and pressed a hand to his chest. "Oof. Beautiful and brutal. You really haven't changed."

You froze for a split second.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, waving it off. "Just... déjà vu."

You stared at him, something prickling at the edge of your mind. That look again. Like he knew you too well for a stranger. Like he was holding a secret in his mouth, keeping it safe.

"Alright, mysterious boxer," you said, sitting up straighter. "If we're doing this no-names thing, then I get to make up your backstory."

He grinned. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Let's see..." you tapped your chin, pretending to study him. "You're probably a spoiled rich kid, dropped out of business school, got into the underground fighting for the thrill."

"Interesting."

"You can drive a car" you continued, "but you ended up with a motorbike because it makes you feel free. You say you hate attention, but you love the way people look at you."

He laughed again, but this one hurt a little. Because it was true. All of it. You were remembering pieces without knowing you were.

"And what about you?" he asked, trying to push through the lump in his throat. "What's your story?"

You looked down at your empty glass, suddenly quiet.

"I don't know yet," you said, half-joking. "Still figuring it out."

He swallowed hard.

"Then let me stick around a little," he said softly. "See how it turns out."

You looked at him, eyes searching. Something pulled inside your chest, like the faint echo of a melody you used to dance to in the dark.

"Okay," you said. "But no names. Just for tonight."

He smiled, genuine, heartbreakingly sweet. "Deal."

And as the bartender slid two more drinks toward your table, Jungkook let himself fall into the lie a little deeper. Because if he couldn't make you remember, he'd make you fall in love again.

Jungkook had chosen the same quiet little café for your "first date", the place where you'd spent hours sipping overpriced lattes, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He'd kept it simple, just like that night. The table by the window, the soft hum of the city outside, the warm, golden glow of the café lights wrapping around the two of you like a blanket.

It was perfect, or it should have been.

He'd prepared for this moment. Everything was planned. Even the awkwardness that he had to recreate.

But as soon as the waitress dropped off the drinks and Jungkook reached for his, he fumbled. His fingers brushed against the edge of the cup, and the entire thing tipped over.

Splash.

The coffee spilled across the table, splashing onto his lap and soaking the front of his white shirt. Jungkook pressed his lips together, omitting the huge sigh after he managed to ruin the t-shirt you bought for him.

On your first day, he wore one of his favorite t-shirts before he ruined it by accidentally spilling the coffee over him -which, later, would end up with one of the most touching gifts you'd ever given him: the same shirt, brand new and clean.

He went through the same, although this time, it wasn't accidental. He spilled the coffee on purpose and he was wearing the same t-shirt you bought him.

It had been so embarrassing the first time. The coffee had scalded him, leaving him with a red mark on his skin. You'd laughed so hard that night, teasing him endlessly as he frantically tried to clean himself up.

But now, instead of laughing, you stood up, your face immediately flooded with worry.

"Oh my God, Jungkook, are you okay?" you reached across the table, instinctively grabbing a napkin, your hands trembling slightly as you dabbed at the wet spots on his shirt.

He watched you, caught between confusion and guilt. This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to be a game.

"You're supposed to laugh," he said with a nervous chuckle, his tone strained as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. "You always laugh when I do this."

But you didn't laugh. You were too focused on him, on making sure he wasn't hurt.

"Jungkook, you're burning up!" you looked down at his shirt and noticed the red splotch from the coffee. The way his face twisted in discomfort made something in your chest tighten.

"I'm fine," he lied, wiping at the coffee stain with his napkin, still trying to brush it off like it was just another part of the act.

But when you kept leaning forward, your eyes full of concern, he felt that same vulnerability creep up on him, the one he tried so hard to bury. The one that always came to the surface when you'd showed him a kindness that had no ulterior motive.

You didn't pull back. Instead, you leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his skin as you carefully checked the burn mark, trying to gauge how serious it was.

"Please, let me take a look at it," you said quietly, your voice shaky with worry.

Jungkook's chest tightened, and his heart hammered in his ribcage. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to make you remember. He was supposed to recreate the fun, the banter, the way things were before.

But instead, he felt like he was falling apart in front of you.

"Hey, it's really nothing," he insisted, trying to pull away, but your grip tightened.

"No, it's not nothing," you said, your voice softer now, almost as if you were reassuring yourself. "This could leave a scar. What if it gets worse? You're not fine, Jungkook."

He finally allowed you to inspect the burn, the cool concern in your touch contrasting sharply with the heat that still lingered on his skin. It made his breath hitch, but you weren't teasing him. You weren't laughing at his clumsiness. You were genuinely worried about him.

It was so... different. It wasn't the playful teasing he remembered. It wasn't the way you used to mock him for every little thing. You were taking this seriously, as though he was the important thing at this moment. Not the game. Not the memories he was trying to recreate.

You met his gaze, your eyes full of something, something close to panic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked again, more insistent now. "Maybe you should go to the hospital and..."

"No," he interrupted, his voice tight. "I'm fine. Really. It's not as bad as it looks."

But you didn't seem convinced, still gently dabbing at his shirt, your touch careful and concerned, the weight of your eyes never leaving him. It made him feel seen in a way he hadn't been before. The memory of that first date -the teasing, the laughter- felt like something out of a past life now, replaced by a deep, undeniable care he didn't know how to handle.

"I think we need to get you cleaned up," you said, standing up. "Come on. I'm taking you to the restroom."

He followed you, unable to hide the tightness in his chest, the way his pulse quickened. This wasn't the same. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And yet, the way you gently guided him toward the restroom made him realize that maybe... maybe this was better. The way you worried about him, your eyes soft but full of something deeper, made him feel like he wasn't a stranger to you. Even if you couldn't remember who he was, the connection was still there. Unspoken, yet undeniable.

When you reached the restroom, you immediately pulled paper towels from the dispenser, and as you handed him a few, your fingers brushed his. The smallest touch sent a shiver through his spine.

"You're not making this easy," he muttered, his voice laced with that same nervous humor he'd used to cover his discomfort, but there was no bite to it now. Just a soft, vulnerable edge.

You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but it was warm, and you were still checking him over.

"I know," you said, your voice gentle. "But I need to make sure you're okay, Jungkook."

And for the first time since everything had shifted, since the accident, since the loss of memories, Jungkook wondered if maybe, just maybe, you were remembering him in a way he could never fully understand.

He was disappointed at first, but not anymore.

It was late when you both ended up outside the apartment building. He had to pretend you were guiding him when, actually, he knew the steps there by heart. He could've easily been blinded and he still would've found his way to your door.

The city buzzed quietly around you, muted streetlights casting gold halos across the wet pavement, the air still damp from an earlier drizzle. Jungkook walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps.

He was quiet.

You were too.

The kind of silence that felt almost sacred. Like something was waiting to happen.

He'd walked you home. Just like that first night. After coffee and ruined shirts, after shy smiles and missed glances, he'd done exactly what he did all those years ago: offered to walk you back, pretending it was "just in case." Pretending he wasn't already hopelessly caught in your orbit.

But this time, the orbit felt unfamiliar to you. You didn't recognize the gravity between you. Not logically.

Only emotionally.

There was something there. Something unspoken.

You reached the front steps, turning to face him, and he stopped just a breath too close. He looked at you the same way he had back then, like he was trying to memorize your features, like the weight of the moment sat heavy on his chest.

"I'm not gonna ask to come up," he said softly, almost repeating the words he'd used the first time. "That's not how I do things."

You tilted your head. "But you want to come up, don't you?"

A small, surprised smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah. But... Eventually."

"Eventually... That means you're confident on a second date" you teased him.

"I know there will be"

You both laughed, gently, though yours was more confused than amused. Something about that vibe felt familiar, like you had lived it before. Although you couldn't tell. Not clearly. It was like catching pieces of a dream you weren't sure you'd had. But the way your body reacted to him -how your heart raced, how the tips of your fingers tingled when he stepped a little closer- it made it hard to ignore the sense of déjà vu.

He licked his lips, suddenly nervous.

His mind started flooding with memories from that night. He kissed you for the first time there, while you were leaning against the railing, with that half-smile that always drove him crazy. A smile that told him you already knew what was about to happen, but you were just waiting to know if he dared to do it.

He blinked at you, caught between then and now. Because you were the same person, but your eyes were sparkling differently from that night. There was something in your vibe that told him you weren't with him. Not completely.

"I wish I could kiss you right now" he whispered out loud.

And then, softly: "You wish... Is there something stopping you?"

His breath caught.

God, he wanted to. He wanted to lean in and kiss you exactly the way he had that night, slow and reckless, like he had nothing to lose. But this wasn't that night. This wasn't you. Not really. You didn't remember the tension, the stolen glances, the anticipation that had built up between you back then.

You were looking at him with new eyes.

And still...

You hadn't pulled away.

He raised his hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed your jaw, tentative, reverent, like he was afraid he might scare you off. You leaned into his touch instinctively, and that one simple motion shattered something in him.

So he whispered, "I'm going to kiss you now," and you nodded before he even finished the sentence.

The kiss wasn't like the first time.

It wasn't playful. It wasn't bold.

It was quiet.

Tender.

A question instead of a declaration.

Jungkook kissed you like he was saying please remember me, and you kissed him back like you were saying I don't, but I feel you anyway.

Your hands found his jacket, gripping the fabric just slightly, like you needed something to hold onto. His thumb brushed against your cheek. You melted into him, the city and the night and the world dissolving around the pressure of his mouth on yours.

And when he finally pulled back -breathless, eyes wide and glassy- you stayed close, your forehead pressing against his, like it was the only place in the world that made sense.

"That didn't feel new," you whispered, your voice soft and trembling. "That felt like... like I've done it a thousand times before."

Jungkook let out a broken laugh, one that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.

"You have," he whispered back. "You have."

And for the first time, he let go of the script. Stopped trying to make you remember by recreating the past.

"I mean, maybe... you dreamed about it" he corrected himself quickly, as soon as he was aware of the confused look.

Jungkook sat at the end of the table, eyes fixed on the untouched glass of beer in front of him. The bar was the same. The booth was the same. Even the playlist hadn't changed much, still throwing out old songs that reminded him of shared nights, loud laughter, your hand under the table laced in his.

But this time... your seat was empty.

"You did it?" Jimin asked quietly from across the table, voice careful not to trigger whatever thread was barely holding Jungkook together. "You brought her here again?"

Jungkook didn't respond right away. He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, the breath shaky and uneven. "It's where we used to hang out all the time. If there's a chance it triggers something..."

Namjoon leaned forward, concern etched into every line of his face. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, man."

"I'm not doing this for me," Jungkook said too quickly, then caught himself.

He was. Of course he was.

He needed you to remember -not just for you, but because he didn't know who he was without you. And this version of you, this distant version who looked at him like he was just another charming stranger, it was slowly unraveling him.

"She used to sit right there," Jungkook muttered, tapping the empty cushion beside him with his knuckle. "She'd steal fries off my plate even though she ordered her own. Called it a 'tax for good company.'"

The group chuckled softly, but no one really smiled.

"She used to kick me under the table when I made bad jokes," Jungkook went on, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "And whenever someone flirted with me, she'd hold my hand tighter. Not because she was jealous. Just to remind me she was there. And now..."

He looked up suddenly, eyes rimmed with red.

"She is here," he whispered, "but she's not. She doesn't know she was my everything."

No one spoke. Hoseok reached out first, a quiet hand on Jungkook's shoulder. Jin slid his beer across the table without a word, just as he had the night Jungkook told them you were in the hospital.

"I brought her here last night," Jungkook continued, staring ahead like he was talking to someone far away. "Sat in this exact spot. Tried to recreate the night we celebrated her getting that job at the museum. Even told the waiter it was her promotion night again. He just looked at me like I was insane, and I had to tell her it was an excuse to get a discount."

He laughed bitterly.

"She smiled at everyone but me."

Another beat of silence passed.

"Why don't you just tell her?" Taehyung asked quietly. "Tell her who you are. What you were to her."

Jungkook shook his head violently, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "Because if she really doesn't remember... then it's not her choice to love me again. It's just pressure. A story she doesn't recognize. She deserves to choose me. Even if it means she doesn't choose me."

His voice broke completely on the last word. No one had seen Jungkook cry in years, not like this. Not with his head down, fists clenched, eyes burning with grief that hadn't found closure.

Jimin reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing once.

"We'll help you," he said quietly. "Whatever memory you want to bring back, whatever moment you need to recreate next... we've got you. Even if she doesn't remember yet, we do."

Jungkook swallowed hard.

His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "The picnic. The one in spring. With the wildflowers."

Namjoon blinked. "The one where you both got locked out of the car and had to hitchhike back?"

Jungkook gave a weak laugh through the tears. "Yeah. That one."

The friends all exchanged looks.

"God, she teased you for weeks after that," Hoseok smiled.

Jungkook's eyes turned to the door. "I just need to see her laugh like that again."

The air was soft with spring, the kind of day where sunlight filtered through a pale blue sky and the breeze carried the scent of blooming grass. A wide field stretched out before them, dotted with patches of wildflowers that danced like secrets on the wind.

Jungkook laid the blanket down carefully, pressing the corners with rocks just like he remembered. Every detail had been replicated: the chipped thermos filled with cold brew, the half-burnt cinnamon muffins, the little Bluetooth speaker already playing the playlist he'd made for you back then. Even the weather was working in his favor like the universe just wanted things to work out.

He glanced toward you as you stepped barefoot on the blanket, your shoes left somewhere in the grass. You looked peaceful -curious, but peaceful.

"This is... beautiful," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Feels like déjà vu."

Jungkook smiled, carefully setting down the sandwiches. "You... I mean, a friend said that exact same thing I brought him here." he lied.

You looked up. "Really?"

"Hmm." he plopped down across from you, legs crossed and heart pounding. "Y.... He also told me I'd probably forget the sunscreen and get a sunburn on just my nose."

You paused. "...Did you?"

He pointed to his nose with a sheepish grin. "Roasted like a marshmallow."

But it wasn't any friend, it was you who warned him, and it was you who started teasing him for looking all red for days.

A laugh slipped from you before you could stop it, and his heart ached at the sound. That laugh. That warmth. It was like watching the sun through fog. But something else was happening too, little things.

You hummed along to a song playing through the speaker, one that wasn't particularly popular. Jungkook had added it to the playlist on a whim, years ago. You shouldn't have recognized it.

For a moment, it felt like everything was working out. Like he was making a good job on just reliving everything that happened.

But then... the keys.

He was about to whine about the car being locked out, but you stopped him before he could, swinging the keys in your hand up in the air.

As he stood to throw away a crumpled napkin shortly after you arrived, you casually reached into the open car door and plucked the keys from the ignition where he'd left them hanging. You didn't even look twice. Just dropped them into your bag like it was second nature.

Jungkook froze, confused about the sound. Confused about the fact that you had picked them up.

"Hey," he said slowly, cautiously, "why'd you grab the keys?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"The keys," he repeated, nodding toward your bag. "You took them out of the car."

You hesitated, frowning faintly. "Oh. I don't know. Just... reflex, I guess."

Jungkook's chest tightened.

Because last time -back then- you hadn't grabbed them. He'd left them in the ignition, and you'd both realized hours later, after the car locked itself automatically. It was the beginning of a mini-disaster -your phone was dead, his had no signal, and the two of you ended up hitchhiking back with a couple of old farmers and a trunk full of potatoes.

It had been the most ridiculous, uncomfortable, hilarious afternoon of his life.

And now -this time- you had stopped it from happening. Without realizing. Without remembering.

Something in you had changed the outcome.

"Are you okay?" you asked suddenly, your eyes scanning his face.

Jungkook quickly shook himself back to the moment, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I just... I was kind of looking forward to getting locked out again."

You tilted your head. "Again?"

He grinned, half-teasing, half-choked with emotion. That was the first time you held his hand for more than five seconds without making a joke about his rings. But now that chance was gone.

"I mean... getting locked out. That's it. Not again"

You stared at him, lips parted, like you didn't know whether to laugh or ask questions.

But you didn't ask. Not yet.

Instead, you reached out and grabbed his hand, quietly, gently. No jokes. No teasing. Just fingers threading through his, like you'd done it a hundred times before.

Jungkook swallowed hard and looked away, blinking back the sting behind his eyes.

"I really like being around you," you said softly, thumb brushing over his knuckles. "It's strange... but comfortable. Like... like I've missed you, even though I don't know you."

And with that, the tension in his shoulders gave out.

He didn't say anything.

He just nodded, eyes closed, clutching your hand like it was the only tether he had left.

"You don't need to lock us out of the car for us to spend more time together" and there it was, the teasing. "You should just... ask".

The sun had dipped below the hills after they both had finally chosen to stay there, painting the sky in deep purples and sleepy oranges. What began as an afternoon picnic had slowly turned into an evening spent inside the car, warm and close, with music playing softly in the background and empty snack wrappers strewn across the dash.

Jungkook sat in the passenger seat, one leg propped up, his shoulder brushing against yours every time he shifted. Outside, the air had cooled, the windows fogged slightly with your breath and the temperature drop, casting a soft haze over the world beyond.

You were both laughing, genuine and unfiltered.

"I still can't believe you tried to impress your professor with a meme," you giggled, hugging your knees to your chest.

Jungkook groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It was intellectual humor. I was ahead of my time!"

You nudged him, and he looked over -smiling, disarmed.

He knew all your stories by heart, he swore he could tell them by himself. But he just loved hearing them from you again.

There was something different in the air now.

The kind of quiet that only comes after hours of sharing too much. The kind where words run out, and the silence doesn't feel awkward. It feels close.

The car had grown dark. Only the faint glow of the overhead light lingered, and the soft ambient music, now long into the playlist's more intimate side, filled the small space with low, lazy beats.

Your gaze lingered on his profile.

Something in the way he looked that night -quiet, open, raw- pulled at something deep in you. Maybe it was the soft rasp of his voice. Maybe it was the way he looked at you like he'd seen this moment before, and had been waiting for it to happen all over again.

You didn't speak as your hand reached for his.

He took it like he always had -with ease, like it was second nature. Like your fingers belonged between his.

"I don't really understand what's happening between us," you whispered, voice barely audible over the music. "But I don't want it to stop."

Jungkook's breath caught.

He turned toward you slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment -like he was caught between joy and heartbreak.

"You don't have to understand it," he said softly, "just... stay in it."

You nodded. "Okay."

And then you kissed him. Not like strangers. Not like it was new. But like your mouth remembered the shape of his. Like your body leaned into his not with curiosity, but with longing that had been stitched into your bones.

Jungkook sighed against your lips, his hand cradling your face like he was scared you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened slowly -lazy, warm, like hours of conversation had been leading to this single moment of surrender.

Without a word, he climbed into the backseat, pulling you gently with him. Limbs tangled, laughter hushed as you maneuvered into the cramped space. The cold pressed against the windows while your bodies grew warmer.

Clothes slipped away in pieces, not rushed -felt. And you didn't feel shy, you didn't feel nervous when his eyes fell over your bare breasts, because the comfort mixed with a familiarity you weren't sure how to handle.

Good lord, he loved the way you always arched for him.

Jungkook cupped your breasts, his thumbs momentarily twirling around your nipples as he leaned down to kiss you again. Your tongues tangled together, and the taste was so intoxicating but pleasant that you could only find yourself holding onto him even tighter.

"It's the first time I like the taste of cigarettes so bad" you admitted out of breath with a smirk.

His hands mapped your skin like it was familiar ground, his mouth following with reverence. He didn't worship you like someone new -he remembered you, in every soft kiss down your neck, every pause where he just looked.

His lips went back to yours, crashing against your mouth as he dragged you on his lap, arms wrapped around your waist.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

His mind kept screaming, but he kept his lips sealed, forcing the kiss to grow even rougher as a way to keep those words from slipping and scare you away.

"Wait... Let me..." you broke the kiss, trying to readjust yourself on top of him.

Neither of you could help but giggle the moment you looked into each other's eyes as you shifted on his lap.

With a hand on your neck, he pulled you into a new kiss, making sure his arms around you kept your bodies glued to each other. He groaned into the kiss when he felt your hand slipping in between your bodies to redirect him to your wet channel, both of you moaning as you pushed him into you the moment you lowered your hips.

You weren't in love with him. Not yet. But your body moved like it still was.

Your hips met his with the perfect depth and synch, like the two of you were dancing to a dance you had practiced several times before.

And you had.

Jungkook couldn't move his eyes away from you. His arms remained wrapped around your waist, just enough to pull your torso close to him and have his lips closing around one of your nipples, one hand teasing the other, while his free hand squeezed a spot below your ribs that made you squirm and moan.

It was like he had studied your body, like his only aim was to make you feel good.

"Jungkook" you moaned with a cracked whine.

He swore he was going insane. He flipped the two of you over the backseat, resting his body in between your legs to pound into you, to angle his hips and make you lose control of your own body. One of your hands was on the window, the other on his shoulder. Yet he needed more.

With a rough movement, he moved your hand away from the window to place it over his face. "Touch me, Y/n. I need your hands on me" he almost begged.

And for that one night, in the backseat under a thousand quiet stars, Jungkook let himself fall again. Silently. Without hope or demand. Just the sweetness of closeness, of skin on skin, of your breath in his ear whispering his name like it still meant something.

When it was over, tangled together under the soft cotton of his jacket, you fell asleep on his chest, heart steady against his. Jungkook didn't sleep. He just held you, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the car, wondering how long he could keep pretending that fate would give you back to him.

For the first time, Jungkook didn't feel like recreating everything that happened between you two. It wasn't necessary. He was so caught up in taking the old you back, that he forgot about the possibility of him falling for you all over again under a whole different circumstance.

Your relationship was bound to happen again.

The next morning, the sun rose quietly. It didn't burst into the sky -it crept. Gentle and gold, seeping through the fogged windows of the car in soft beams that filtered across tangled limbs and rumpled jackets.

You stirred first.

Your cheek was pressed against the bare skin of Jungkook's chest, rising and falling with every slow breath he took. His arms were still around you, protective and steady, and his heartbeat -low and calm- drummed beneath your ear.

You didn't move.

There was something safe about this. About waking up here, wrapped in a warmth that didn't feel foreign. Even though it should have.

Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing against his ribs, and he tightened his hold just a little, as if even in sleep, he was scared you'd slip away.

Jungkook was awake.

He had been for a while.

He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. Just breathed you in and let the silence hold him. Let the weight of your body against his lull the ache in his chest to something soft, something tolerable. But even in this dreamlike calm, he knew it wasn't real.

You didn't know him.

Not really.

Not the way you used to.

Still, when you tilted your face up and blinked sleepily at him, your mouth barely parted, skin still kissed by the warmth of last night, Jungkook let himself pretend. Just for a second.

"Hi," you whispered.

His heart squeezed. "Hey."

A quiet smile tugged at your lips. "Did we actually...?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Hmm. We did."

You leaned back slightly, your eyes scanning his features. The messy hair. The tired eyes. The little indent on his lower lip where he always bit when nervous. "I don't usually do that."

"I know," he said gently, gaze never leaving yours.

There was something in the way he said it -too sure, too knowing-, but before you could question it, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His fingertips lingered on your cheek.

"You're cold," he murmured.

"I'm not," you replied, but you didn't stop him when he pulled his hoodie over your head and helped you into it, even though it was far too big and still smelled like him.

You let yourself curl into his side again as if you'd done it before. Like you knew how.

Outside, the world was waking up: birds calling through the trees, the breeze rustling through tall grass. But inside the car, time was still. The windows glowed softly with morning light. Neither of you spoke for a long while.

Eventually, you tilted your head toward him again. "I feel like I'm always a step behind around you."

Jungkook swallowed. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged, fingers absently tracing the tattoo on his arm. "Like you know something I don't. Like... I'm supposed to understand all this, and I just... don't."

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his face toward the window, eyes catching the sunlight like it might burn away the truth if he held it too long.

"I guess," he said slowly, "some things just need time."

You nodded, even if you didn't really understand. "Is it crazy that I trust you?"

"No," Jungkook replied, his voice so soft it could have shattered. "Not crazy at all."

And in that moment, you reached out and laced your fingers through his again.

No questions. No demands.

Just skin on skin. A touch that said, I don't remember, but this feels right.

Jungkook closed his eyes and let himself stay in the dream for one moment longer.

The theater was quiet.

Not empty, just quiet. One of those midweek showings where only a handful of people were scattered across the seats, too far to hear or care what anyone else was doing.

You sat next to Jungkook with a bucket of popcorn balanced between you and the sleeve of your drink pressed against your thigh. The previews flickered across the screen, too loud, too flashy, but neither of you really cared what movie was playing.

He'd picked the film. Something fun. Light. Familiar. But you kept sneaking glances at him instead of watching.

He looked different in the darkness. More relaxed. A little slouched. His beanie pulled low and a soft flannel shirt hanging open over his tee. It was almost domestic, comforting, the way he sat beside you like he'd done it a hundred times.

Maybe he had.

You just didn't know it.

While the next trailer blared on screen, Jungkook leaned forward, checking his phone. Probably a text from a friend -you hadn't met any of them yet, but he talked about them often. Warmly.

He always spoke like there were pieces of you in his stories, but never named them.

You glanced over casually... and paused.

His phone was dim, but not enough to miss it. There you were, on his screen. His lockscreen. It was a photo of you in the sun, squinting at the camera, wearing sunglasses perched lazily on your nose and a soft smile playing on your lips. You looked free. Happy. Head tilted back slightly like you'd just been laughing at something he said.

But you had no memory of it.

You didn't remember the shirt you were wearing. Or where you were. Or him being there.

Your chest tightened, breath caught somewhere high in your throat.

It was just a photo. But it was proof of something bigger, something you couldn't quite reach.

"You okay?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at you.

You blinked, startled. He must have seen your face. Or maybe the way you were staring at his phone a second too long.

You nodded quickly, brushing it off. "Yeah. Just... tired."

He didn't press, but you could feel it. That slight shift in his posture. That tension in the air like he knew you'd seen too much. Or maybe... not enough.

He slipped his phone into his pocket and reached out, his hand brushing yours between the armrests. When you didn't pull away, he linked your fingers gently, grounding you with the warmth of his palm.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. He smelled like something soft and earthy. Familiar. Like you'd worn his hoodie once, weeks ago, and the scent had never left your skin.

"I like being with you," you murmured, almost a whisper.

Jungkook's grip tightened ever so slightly.

"I like being with you too," he said, voice hushed, almost cracking.

Neither of you watched the movie. You just sat in the dark, wrapped in something fragile and unnamed, with your face on his lockscreen and a hundred memories you couldn't see, but were somehow starting to feel.

After the movie ended, you both chose to take your love somewhere else.

You were back at your apartment now, Jungkook leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping on that awful canned iced coffee he swore by, while you sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

He was telling you a story, something about a prank his friend -Taehyung- had pulled at a wedding. It was strange, telling you a story you were once part of, as if you had never been there. But he had grown used to it.

But your mind wasn't really on it, because the image had stuck with you.

The lockscreen.

That photo of you on his phone.

You chewed your lip and finally cleared your throat. "Can... can I ask you something?"

Jungkook stilled, the can pausing mid-air. "Sure."

You stood, walked to him slowly, and held out your hand. "Your phone."

His brows lifted. "Why?"

"Just wanna see something."

He hesitated, just for a second, before unlocking it and handing it over. You navigated to the lockscreen, pulling it up again. Your heart gave a strange little flutter.

"This picture..." you started softly, holding it out between you. "Where did you find this?"

Jungkook looked down at the screen like it was something fragile. His thumb twitched against the seam of his jeans.

"That was... I scrolled through your social media, and I found it" his voice was careful while he came up with a lie. "I thought you looked great, so I just... took it. I can change it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it's just... I was surprised after seeing myself on your phone" you admitted. "I didn't expect it".

He nodded. "You don't mind it?"

You frowned slightly. "No. I actually look good" you teased with a chuckle. "I look happy there".

Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze lowering as he murmured. "You were."

You studied his face for a long moment. Then your lips curved upward, just a little. "Your taste in screensavers is nice, I guess."

He let out a soft chuckle, but the sound didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Funny, though," you added, unlocking your own phone. "Mine's kind of similar."

You turned your screen toward him. It was a photo of a man's back -broad shoulders, hair messy in the wind, walking just ahead of you. The setting sun behind him made it hard to see clearly, but the place... it was the same river. The same wildflowers. The same time of year.

Jungkook stared at it. Everything in him stilled.

"That's... a coincidence," he said, voice almost too calm.

You nodded slowly. "Guess so."

But neither of you said anything for a while.

You left the photo up a little longer, as if trying to feel something stir in your chest. Some sense of connection. But all you felt was the silence between you -quiet, waiting, fragile.

Then Jungkook smiled softly, stepping forward and brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe we just like the same places," he said gently.

You tilted your head, searching his face. "Maybe."

But as you leaned into his touch, your hand brushing lightly against his chest, you couldn't shake the strange flutter in your ribs, like a memory had tried to surface, only to slip beneath the water again.

"It was the lockscreen I had when I woke up" you frowned.

Jungkook froze when he heard that confession, but he remained silent, waiting for you to speak, waiting for the next thing you'd say.

"I haven't told you before... Well, it isn't something I go around telling" you nervously chuckled. "Some months ago... I had an accident. A pretty bad accident. I was in a coma for a few weeks, and when I woke up my mind was completely blank from the past five years and on. I didn't recognize my friends, or my workplace... I didn't even expect to be living here. But, somehow, that lockscreen was the only thing that made sense and gave me calm when everything was upside down. And it's ridiculous, because I can't see his face, or know who he is, but it just makes me... feel relaxed. Like nothing will be wrong".

Jungkook felt his lip trembling. For the first time in weeks, he felt guilty. Because he left you alone when you needed support, because he abandoned you when you needed guidance, only because he was scared of his own feelings when you looked at him differently. And now, he was scared of how you'd react when you remembered things.

"Why are you crying?" you scoffed, feeling your own eyes filling up with tears.

"Oh?" he asked, brushing the reverse of his fingers against his cheeks, finding them wet.

"You aren't feeling sorry for me, aren't you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Never, bunny".

The nickname slipped from his lips before he could hold it back. And he noticed, the flash of surprise, the sparkle in you eyes under the tears.

That nickname stirred something in you.

"Bunny?"

He remembered the way you'd always jump around when excited, the way you'd make small jumps instead of just walking or running, and that nickname made complete sense for him back in the day.

"It's a nickname. It just... slipped out"

"I like it" you confessed with a giggle.

The sun was dipping low behind the skyline as Jungkook waited outside your office building.

He leaned casually against his Jeep, black hoodie pulled over his head, one boot crossed over the other as he scrolled through his phone. To anyone passing by, he looked like someone killing time -apathetic, detached.

But his thumb hadn't moved in two minutes, because his entire body was tense. Stomach in knots. Eyes flicking toward the doors every few seconds.

You were running late.

Again.

Which gave his mind far too much time to spiral.

He hadn't expected this part to hurt so much. Watching you build new routines that didn't have him in them. Smiling at strangers, coming out of buildings he'd waited for you a hundred times before -when he was your boyfriend, your ride home, your safe place. Now he was just... someone you were getting to know. And that should've been enough, except today, it almost wasn't.

"Jungkook?" a familiar voice called.

He stiffened. His eyes snapped toward the sound, heart dropping like a stone.

It was one of your coworkers. Julie, maybe? He vaguely remembered her from a few parties, or maybe your birthday dinner. The two of you had once danced together after too much wine. She had no filter and a memory like a vault.

She approached, smiling wide. "Oh my God, it is you! Wow. It's been a while. Y/n didn't say you were picking her up today... Are you two back together?"

Jungkook felt his blood turn cold.

His mouth opened, then closed again. "I... uh..."

"She looked so lost after the accident," Julie kept going, oblivious. "But I always had a feeling you'd come back. You two were like..."

"Hey, sorry," Jungkook cut in suddenly, eyes locked on the entrance.

You were walking out. Right. Now.

Shit.

"Can we not... talk about this right now?" he muttered, voice urgent but polite, already stepping away.

Julie blinked, confused. "What? Wait, aren't you...?"

"I'll text you," he said quickly, already turning his back.

And then he was moving, crossing the pavement fast, intercepting you before your eyes could sweep over to Julie's side of the street.

"There you are," he said with a practiced smile, pulling open the passenger door. "Rough day?"

You blinked at the sudden warmth, distracted by the way he touched your lower back, guiding you gently into the car like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Exhausting," you muttered as you slid in.

He rounded the Jeep fast, hands tight on the steering wheel by the time he started the engine. You didn't notice the way he was breathing just a little too fast. Or how he double-checked his mirrors like he wasn't just looking for traffic, but watching to see if someone was still standing nearby.

"How was your day?" you asked casually.

Jungkook gave a small, breathless laugh.

"Almost perfect."

The drive was silent for a few minutes, until you broke the silence again, curiously looking at him while turning your body to him.

"Do you know Julie?"

"What?" he nervously eyed you, his glance on you lasted less than two seconds.

"Julie, you were talking to her before I got out"

Jungkook sighed, trying to come up with an explanation. "Oh, yeah. She's a friend of a friend. It's been a long time since I saw her last".

Before you could ask more about it, he rushed to come up with a new topic that would distract you from the fact that he knew your coworker. And he breathed out, relieved, when you didn't fight back as you played along with his conversation.

Three weeks slipped by like honey in warm tea -slow, golden, and somehow too sweet to be real. You and Jungkook weren't official, but something between you had rooted itself deep. You texted constantly, called often. He picked you up from work most days. You spent weekends together now: grocery shopping like old lovers, laughing too loudly in parks, falling asleep on his shoulder without even realizing it.

And still... you never asked. Never pried about the way he knew exactly how you liked your coffee, or how his hand found yours in the dark before you could even reach. Just like you didn't ask why he was so against you meeting his friends, or how he didn't want to meet yours. At some point, you just assumed he didn't have any, and he just was too embarrassed to admit it. Just like you accepted he was more of a homebody than someone who went out and about, since most of your dates were either in places with barely anyone around or in either of your houses.

You didn't know why you didn't ask, maybe you were afraid of the answer.

That night, and after too much arguing, you finally managed to convince Jungkook on going out. The pub looked just like you remembered it: old brick walls, low golden lights, the constant hum of music and conversation thick in the air.

"Déjà vu," you said, stepping in beside him. "This place feels... familiar. And I don't mean it because of the day you brought me here a few weeks ago."

Jungkook smiled, a little sad, a little hopeful. "It should."

You glanced up at him, eyes narrowed. "Why?"

He shrugged like it didn't matter. "It's just the kind of place that feels like a memory."

You were led to the same table. Same corner. Same view of the bar. Jungkook even ordered the same drinks for you both, though you didn't notice that part. You were too busy scanning the room, trying to place this strange pull in your chest.

"Have you been here a lot?" you asked.

He took a sip of his beer, staring at the spot where, once upon a time, he'd stepped in to save you from a stranger's wandering hands. "A few times before" he said "and it kind of stuck with me."

You smiled. "Because of the atmosphere?"

He met your eyes. "Because of the person I came with."

Your gaze faltered at the heat behind his words. You swallowed hard, suddenly shy. "She must've been special."

"She still is."

You laughed awkwardly, not sure how to reply to that -if you were misreading the moment or if he meant exactly what your gut whispered he did.

"Hey," you said, trying to shift the tone. "You keep saying all these mysterious, romantic things and then changing the subject. Should I be worried you're secretly married or something?"

Jungkook grinned, but it was the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not married."

"But?"

"But some things are hard to explain."

You nodded slowly, reaching for your drink. "Well... I guess I don't need everything explained. Not if it keeps feeling like this."

He looked up sharply at that.

"Like what?" he asked.

You hesitated.

"Like I've done all this before," you said quietly. "With you."

And Jungkook -heart breaking and healing all at once- only whispered back:

"You have."

But you didn't hear it. Or maybe you just didn't let yourself.

So you smiled again, tilting your glass toward his with a playful smirk. "To familiar strangers."

Jungkook clinked his glass against yours. And for a moment, everything in him screamed to tell you the truth. But instead, he just said:

"To second chances."

As the night went on, you had shifted in the booth beside Jungkook, your hand brushing his every now and then, and neither of you moved it away. The world felt slower tonight, like it was holding its breath around you.

The conversation had dipped into quiet comfort when a voice sliced through it, casual and familiar:

"Jungkook?"

He turned quickly. A tall man with honey-blond hair and a denim jacket was approaching with a grin, Mitchell. You didn't recognize him, but the smile on his face said he recognized you.

And worse, he knew you.

"Dude! I didn't know you two were back together!" Mitchell laughed as he reached them, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder before turning toward you. "Y/n, you look good! How's your head, by the way? That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

"Hey," Jungkook said sharply.

His voice was low. Controlled. But his hand gripped Mitchell's arm with a pressure that meant stop talking now. He blinked, confused.

You glanced between them, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Sorry, do I... know you?" you asked, trying to place the man's face.

Mitchell looked stunned for a beat. Then opened his mouth again to speak, but he was interrupted before he could make a sound.

"She's not who you think," Jungkook cut in, voice firmer now. "You're probably confusing her with someone else."

Mitchell's eyebrows shot up.

"What? Jungkook..."

Jungkook stepped closer to him, almost blocking you from view. "Drop it," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Please."

Mitchell froze.

And in that moment, something passed between them -something heavy, like grief and fear woven together. Then, after a pause too long to be casual, Mitchell gave a tight smile.

"Oh," he said finally, turning toward you. "My bad. You just... reminded me of someone. Sorry about that."

You laughed softly, but something about the exchange had stiffened your spine. "No worries. I get that a lot, apparently."

Jungkook's hand slid to the small of your back. Warm. Protective. A silent plea not to ask more.

You didn't.

Not really.

But as Mitchell waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd, you glanced up at Jungkook with a quiet curiosity in your eyes.

"Is he an old friend?"

Jungkook smiled gently, like nothing had just happened. "Yeah. Known him for a long time."

You nodded slowly. "He seemed... surprised to see us together."

There was a pause. Just for a breath.

"Guess I surprise people sometimes."

"How did he know... about the accident though?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him cautiously.

"It's... that other person had a light accident, too. It's just a coincidence".

A coincidence, again.

You watched him a second longer before looking away. The conversation moved on, but the moment stayed with you. Like a thread you weren't quite ready to pull.

Actually, neither of you brought up that conversation for the rest of the night, not even when you were back in his place, like you always did with all the small details. You usually shrugged them off, swiped them off the carpet and forgot about them. But there were too many coincidences not to notice the huge bulge under the carpet in the middle of the living room.

The room was quiet, too quiet.

Jungkook's arm lay across your waist, his breath feathering warm against your shoulder, the rhythm steady, soothing. But your mind was anything but.

Even in the dark, the memories -or lack of them- pulsed behind your eyes. You could feel the shadows of things just out of reach, a phantom touch on your hand before you moved. The way he smiled when he thought you weren't looking, the moments where you caught him watching you like you were something lost and he didn't know how to let go.

Your fingers grazed over the sheet as you slowly shifted his arm off your waist. He mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake.

Barefoot and quiet, you slipped out of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, arms crossing over your chest, heart pounding like a second heartbeat.

Mitchell's voice rang in your ears."That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

Another accident, where the main person also got hit on the head.

"Back together".

And Jungkook's eyes, how fast they had darkened. How quickly he had shut it all down.

The question you'd buried for weeks finally pushed its way to the surface: Was he hiding something? Or someone?

Your stomach churned. What if he had a girlfriend he wasn't telling you about? What if this whole time, this strange intimacy you'd fallen into with him wasn't yours to fall into?

You were pacing in the dark before you realized it, your steps soundless on the cool floor. Back and forth. Breath uneven. Thoughts louder than your heart could handle. And then... thud.

You stumbled as your foot collided with something under the edge of the shelf in his living room. Bending down, your fingers found the edge of a small wooden box: worn, heavy with the kind of weight that wasn't just physical. There was something sacred about it. You shouldn't have opened it, but you did.

Inside were pieces of a life that didn't belong to you. And yet, they did.

A photo lay at the top. You, smiling in a way you'd never seen in the mirror. Your cheeks flushed, your hands cupping Jungkook's face like he was the only thing that existed. His eyes were shut in the photo, a smile tugging at his lips. Pure joy.

Your breath hitched.

Beneath it were dozens more. A photo booth strip of four blurry, laughing frames, a candid of you asleep against his shoulder, a selfie with his nose pressed to your neck, his eyes closed, and a faint lipstick mark on his cheek, you found one where your friends where also in the picture -and, by the way Taehyung was hugging Jungkook, you could tell they were close. And then, at the bottom, you found a familiar photo that made your stomach turn. You were wearing the exact same outfit of the picture he had as his lockscreen, and he was wearing the same clothes as the man in yours, same background... The only difference was that, this time, you two were together, kissing.

You didn't remember any of them. But your heart... did. Then, tucked beneath the photos, letters.

You picked up the top one. Unfolded it with trembling fingers. It wasn't long.

You forgot me.

I smiled through it. You said "nice to meet you" like it was nothing.

It almost killed me.

But I'll wait.

I'll wait forever if it means you'll smile at me like you used to.

Your vision blurred. You blinked quickly.

There were more. Pages of thoughts, of love, of ache. Some had dates, weeks ago. Some looked like they'd been written the day of your accident. One had a smear in the ink. A tear, maybe.

Day 9.

They said you might be able to hear me. So I'm here. Again.

I haven't left, not really. I go home to shower, sometimes. Eat if I remember. But I'm always back before sunset, just in case you wake up and wonder where I am.

I should've driven slower. I should've seen the turn. I should've...

You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me.

I replay it in my head every time I close my eyes. Your voice. The sound. The silence after.

I hold your hand and pretend you're just sleeping.

I talk to you like you'll answer.

Sometimes I pretend you do.

Everyone says to give it time. That you're strong.

But I know you're tired.

If you hear this, if anything inside you still remembers me, please, just come back.

I'll start everything over. I'll do it right this time.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Come home.

Your breath came in shallow bursts. Your knees buckled. It was like everything was turning around you the more you read.

Day 37.

You opened your eyes today.

I should be there. God, I want to be there. But I can't. Not yet.

They told me you didn't ask for me.

That you didn't recognize anyone.

And I know it's not your fault.

I know it's the injury, the trauma, the healing.

But it felt like the last piece of me cracked open when I heard it.

How do I look at you and pretend we're strangers?

How do I sit beside you and not touch you the way I used to?

How do I call you Y/n when every part of me still aches to say baby?

I've spent weeks memorizing our history in case I had to remind you of it.

But now... I don't know if you even want to remember.

I'm scared. Not of losing you.

I'm scared you've already let me go.

Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll walk past your door and keep going.

But I'll always be waiting, just in case something in you still knows me.

The box fell from your hands as you lost the last bit of strength to keep reading, the pictures scattered at your feet like a life spilled out.

You were the girlfriend.

You had been his.

He hadn't just found you by coincidence. He had been waiting. Recreating. Hoping.

A quiet sound behind you broke the silence. Then his voice -rough with sleep, confusion curling in its edges.

"Y/n...?"

You didn't turn around, you couldn't. Not yet.

Jungkook stopped, reaching for the switch to turn on the lights, wishing he had never done it in the first place. All the pictures he tried to hide were around your feet, all the contents of the box were exposed. "Baby?"

Your fingers curled around the corner of a photo -your face in it, laughing so hard your eyes had shut. Jungkook had his arm around your neck, tugging you against him like he never wanted to let go. The kind of moment that couldn't be staged.

Slowly, you turned. He was halfway inside the living room, shirtless, hair tousled, his eyes going from sleepy to wide open the second he saw what you were holding.

His mouth parted. But no words came out.

And then you whispered: "...It was me."

He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at you like everything he had worked so hard to bury had been laid bare, and now, there was nowhere left to hide.

You looked down at the photo again, your fingers brushed the smile you didn't remember, but somehow still felt.

"I was the one you were waiting for."

His throat bobbed. You were crying now, but it didn't feel heavy. It felt like truth cracking open, like light breaking in.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you whispered.

Jungkook swallowed hard. And finally, he stepped forward -eyes burning, voice trembling, as he stopped right in front of you.

"Because if I told you the truth..." he reached for your hand -hesitated- then wrapped his fingers around it, pressing it to his chest. "...I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

You didn't look at him. You couldn't. Your chest felt tight, each breath shallow and sharp.

"Why?" you asked, your voice low and sharp like a blade.

He sat up, the sheets slipping from his torso, pooling at his waist. "Y/n..."

"Why did you lie to me?"

Silence.

You finally turned, eyes wide and brimming with betrayal. "You were my boyfriend. Before the accident. Before I lost everything. You were my life, and you let me believe you were just some guy at a bar?"

Jungkook's throat bobbed as he swallowed. The guilt had already settled deep in his face.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he admitted. "I didn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me?" you repeated, voice cracking. "You didn't want to scare me, so you thought pretending none of it happened was better?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. You could see the words scrambling in his brain, but none of them made it out.

"You thought it would be better to lie to me? To manipulate me into remembering you? Not even to remember you, but to force your way back into my life" your hands were shaking now. "You robbed me of my own story, Jungkook. You made me feel crazy every time I caught something familiar in you."

"I was terrified," he said finally. His voice broke around the edges. "You looked at me like I was no one. You smiled like we'd just met. And I... I was scared you wouldn't want to come back."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"That wasn't your decision to make," you said, each word clipped, each syllable deliberate. "You should've told me the truth. You, my friends... someone should've told me."

"They wanted to," he said quietly. "I asked them not to."

You laughed bitterly. "Of course you did". You stopped for a second "Why don't I have anything about you in my h...?"

But you didn't need to finish the question to know that he and your friends had something to do with all of that.

"My social media?" Jungkook just looked down at your question, knowing one of your friends also managed to delete the two years of relationship off the Internet. "Of course..."

"I didn't do it to hurt you," he rushed to explain, eyes pleading. "I just wanted to be near you. I thought if we could do it all again, if I could just feel you again, maybe you'd remember. Maybe your heart would recognize mine, even if your head didn't."

You stared at him, so many feelings surging at once it made you dizzy.

"I've been falling for you," you whispered, your voice tight. "Thinking this was new, something just beginning. I let myself believe I was starting something real with you. But it was just... a copy. Shit, Jungkook. Can't you see how fucked up all of this is?!"

He stepped forward slowly, as if afraid to shatter what little remained between you. "Y/n..."

"You let me doubt myself, Jungkook. Let me question why everything felt like déjà vu. You watched me struggle and said nothing"

He looked like he might fall apart right in front of you.

"I didn't need to be protected," you said, softer now. "I needed the truth. I needed support, help."

Jungkook's expression twisted with grief. "I didn't know how to live in a world where you didn't remember me. I didn't know how to be near you and not be yours."

"You know, there's something I remember..." your voice wavered.

He looked at you hopefully.

"And it's that you always will choose the easy path. Working with me to remember you meant patience, dealing with frustration and obstacles, while just living this lie was quick and fast. You just needed to do absolutely everything you did the first time, and it was done. You didn't give a fuck about my recovery, but about having me in your life in the way you wanted"

It crushed him. You saw it happen. You watched his shoulders fall, his chest cave.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Now all I feel is that every moment between us lately was a lie. And I don't know how to trust anything you say anymore."

He reached for you, but you stepped back.

"Don't," you whispered.

The distance between you stretched, heavy with the things he never told you. You went back to the bedroom, and when you walked outside, you were already dressed with your bag hanging on your shoulder.

"I need time," you said, already walking toward the door.

"Y/n..." he called after you.

But you didn't stop, and you didn't look back.

The café was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that didn't come from a lack of noise, but from something heavier. The clinking of cups, low chatter, even the hum of the espresso machine, it all faded beneath the weight of everything Jungkook hadn't said out loud in days.

He sat across from Jimin, shoulders hunched over a cooling cup of black coffee, staring blankly at the chipped ceramic like it held the answers he couldn't find in himself.

Jimin didn't speak right away. He never rushed Jungkook in moments like this. Just sat there, sipping from his own cup, watching him with that steady, quiet patience that only came from knowing someone too well.

"She's stopped talking to all of us," Jimin finally said, his tone low but careful. "You know that, right?"

Jungkook gave a tired nod. "Yeah."

"She won't answer my messages. She ignores Hobi. I think she even blocked Tae."

Another nod.

Jimin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You think she hates us?"

"No." Jungkook's voice was rough. "But she doesn't trust us. And I don't blame her."

Jimin stared at him. "She trusted you, though."

A muscle in Jungkook's jaw jumped. "Until she found out."

"She found out because she tripped over a box full of the truth," Jimin said, more gently this time. "Not because you told her."

Jungkook rubbed at his face, hands dragging over tired eyes. "You think I don't know that?"

"I think you do," Jimin said. "I just don't know if you've let yourself know it."

There was a long pause.

"She asked me once," Jungkook said quietly. "If I had a girlfriend."

Jimin didn't respond.

"I told her no." his voice broke a little on the word. "I was lying straight to her face, and she looked at me like I was the safest place she'd been since the accident. And I just..." he swallowed, hard, "kept pretending I didn't know what that meant."

Jimin looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. "You were scared."

"I was a coward," Jungkook corrected. "I thought if I could just make her fall in love with me again, I wouldn't have to tell her how much it wrecked me to lose her. But she's not stupid. She noticed everything. The bar, the photo, the letters... and then I watched it all snap together in her eyes."

Jimin was quiet for a moment before he asked, "What did she say?"

Jungkook's laugh was low and sharp, completely humorless. "She asked me why everyone lied. And I said... I told her I was terrified she wouldn't want to come back."

He paused. Swallowed again.

"And the worst part?" he looked up, eyes wet, voice shaking. "She didn't deny it."

Jimin exhaled, leaned back in his chair. "She's hurt. Give her time."

"What if time's the thing that takes her even further away from me?" Jungkook whispered. "What if every day she spends without me is a step closer to forgetting everything we were?"

Jimin reached across the table, gripped his wrist. "Then you wait. You wait for as long as it takes. You loved her enough to lie, fine. But now, love her enough to let her be angry, let her feel what she needs to feel. That's the only way this ends in something real."

Jungkook didn't answer. He just nodded once, slow and hollow, like his body had finally caught up to the weight his heart had been carrying all along.

Meanwhile, you weren't able to go on.

Just after you had asked, you had all of the memories from your relationship back in your house. Although they were inside a box you didn't dare to open yet. His words were enough to haunt the silence: "I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

The worst part was... he wasn't wrong.

You didn't dare to open the box and dig in those memories because you were scared the feelings from the past wouldn't align with the feelings you had. What if you didn't love him back then? What if your relationship wasn't good shortly before the accident? What if...?

You stood in the kitchen barefoot, wrapped in one of his hoodies that had been on the back of a chair, too tired to care if it still smelled like him. You hated that it did. That your body leaned into it, even as your heart tried to push away.

Your phone buzzed once. His name.

You stared at the screen until it faded back to black. A few more minutes passed before you turned it off completely.

You had trusted him.

From the first moment he sat across from you at that bar, with his cocky smile and flirty banter, you had leaned into the connection like you were meant to. And it felt like fate, hadn't it? The easy rhythm, the way he knew how to make you laugh, how he always knew just when to reach out or fall quiet. But it hadn't been fate. It had been a plan. His plan. A play-by-play reenactment of a life you'd already lived, without even knowing it. You'd fallen for him thinking it was new. Thinking you were choosing him, but he'd already had you. And he didn't tell you. He couldn't risk the chance that this version of you wouldn't pick him again.

That was the ache now, the hollow pit in your chest. Not just the lie, but the feeling that he'd stolen your choice.

You pressed your forehead against the cold glass of the window, blinking past the tight sting in your eyes. The street below was quiet, golden with morning light, like the world didn't care that everything inside you had shifted. Like nothing had changed at all.

You should have felt anger. And you did. But beneath it was something deeper and more painful: grief.

Because now every memory you'd made with him -every laugh, every kiss, every moment where your heart had fluttered- was tangled with the question: Was it ever really real?

And still, your body remembered the shape of his arms, the warmth of him in the middle of the night, the softness in his voice when he whispered your name like a prayer. You'd fallen in love with him again. That part was real. And maybe that was the cruelest truth of all.

Unable to keep that pain on your own, you finally called her. Jazmin picked up on the second ring. "Y/n?"

You didn't say anything at first, just breathed, your voice caught in the place where pain sat too deep to speak.

"Are you okay?" she asked, softer now, like she already knew the answer.

"I need to talk... Can you come?"

"I'm coming."

You didn't argue. Didn't try to sound fine. You just hung up and curled into the corner of the couch, knees to your chest, staring at the ghost of yourself in the dark TV screen. The reflection of a girl who didn't know who she was anymore. Not really.

When Jazmin arrived, she didn't knock, just stepped in like she used to, like her body still remembered where the spare key was and how your apartment smelled in the morning. She looked at you, standing there in Jungkook's hoodie, eyes rimmed in red, and said nothing at all, just wrapped her arms around you. And for a second, you let it break. The dam. The wall. The composure.

You sobbed into her shoulder, and she didn't ask questions. Not yet.

"I thought I was going crazy," you finally said when the tears had dulled to hiccups. "I kept thinking, maybe I was the other woman. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn't told me about."

Jazmin pulled away just enough to look at you, brushing your hair from your face. "You were the girlfriend. You are the girlfriend."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She hesitated. "He asked us not to. Said he wanted you to come back to him on your own. That if it wasn't real, if you didn't choose him, it would crush him."

"But what about me?" Your voice broke again. "What about what it's done to me?"

She flinched, and you hated that you made her look like that. Like this pain had spilled over into someone else's bones too. But you couldn't take it back. Couldn't shrink it.

"I needed to know the truth," you whispered. "I needed someone to tell me. Instead, I was just... living in this version of a life that had already happened. Like a puppet on strings I didn't even know were there."

"I know," she said, pulling you in again. "God, I know, Y/n. I wanted to tell you so many times. But he looked so lost. So afraid. We all thought he'd break if you didn't come back to him."

"Maybe I needed to break too," you murmured, pressing your forehead to her shoulder. "So I can figure out who I really am without everyone else deciding it for me."

Jazmin nodded. Her fingers carded gently through your hair. You stayed there, the two of you curled into a silence that felt like a bandage over an open wound.

It had started to rain before you even realized where your feet had taken you.

You hadn't planned on going anywhere after work, just a walk to clear your head. No destination, no headphones, just the kind of silence that city noise couldn't reach. And yet, somehow, you were standing in front of a café you didn't recognize... or at least, didn't think you did. Still, something about it felt familiar. Not in the "I've-been-here-once" kind of way, but in the way a smell can unravel a dream, or a song can feel like a memory even when you've never heard it before.

The little sign above the entrance read Moka, the white paint faded into soft gray along the edges, weathered but charming. Your fingers curled around the brass door handle before you could talk yourself out of it.

The bell chimed above your head as you stepped in.

Soft jazz drifted from speakers hidden somewhere behind the plants and bookshelves that crowded the walls. The scent of roasted beans, vanilla, and something faintly citrusy wrapped around you like a warm coat. It felt like stepping into someone's living room, like a place where stories had been left behind, carefully folded into the creases of napkins and coffee sleeves.

You let your eyes scan the space and saw it: the corner booth near the window with the chipped table and the crooked lamp above it.

It called to you.

You didn't know why you sat down. You just... did.

You took a breath, your fingertips tracing over the wood. A divot near the corner snagged your nail, like muscle memory. You pulled your hand back.

A minute later, the bell above the door chimed again. You glanced up casually, and froze.

Jungkook.

He stepped inside, brushing rain off his shoulders, his hair damp and sticking slightly to his forehead. He looked like he hadn't expected the weather to turn on him so suddenly. He looked like he hadn't expected you, either.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Then his eyes widened, and yours did the same.

"I didn't know you came here," you said, unsure why that was the first thing that came out.

He blinked, stepping in further. "I didn't think you even knew this place."

"I didn't," you replied. "I was just walking and... I don't know. My legs brought me here."

He gave a small, breathless laugh. Not mocking, just stunned. "Yeah. That... that sounds about right."

You both hesitated, hovering in two different worlds that used to be the same one. Then, without asking, he crossed the room and sat across from you. You didn't stop him.

You ordered two coffees, as if your hands remembered what your head didn't. Yours with oat milk and cinnamon. His, black with one sugar. You didn't realize what you'd done until the waitress left and Jungkook looked at you like he'd been struck.

"What?" you asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just... you remembered."

You frowned. "I didn't. I guessed."

He didn't argue. Just gave a tired, tender smile and murmured, "Good guess."

The silence stretched between you. Not tense, exactly. Just... full. Like everything you hadn't said was sitting in the space between your cups, waiting for the right moment to rise.

You looked at him carefully. His eyes were heavier than you remembered. The curve of his mouth pulled more at the corners now, like he smiled less often. There were shadows beneath the tattoos on his arm, and tension in the way he gripped the edge of the table.

You stirred your coffee even though it didn't need stirring. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He stared at the chipped edge of the table. "Because I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of ruining everything," he said. "Of trying to hold on to something that wasn't mine anymore. I kept thinking: what if you remembered and didn't want it? What if you didn't remember and I pushed too hard and it felt like I was trying to trap you in something you couldn't feel?"

Your heart twisted. "That doesn't make what you did okay."

"I know," he said instantly. "I know that. I lied to you. I took away your choice. I tried to rewrite something instead of... letting you read it again. On your own."

You watched him closely. There was no act. No polished version of himself. Just the raw, tired ache of someone who had held his breath for too long.

"And the accident?"

His eyes flicked to yours, and something flickered through them, shame, mostly. Pain.

"We were fighting. Some months ago, you started thinking of publishing the comics you had been working on, but I wasn't... supportive enough. I said they were a cute side thing, and it all blew after that" he said. "I... we started arguing, we weren't listening to each other, and the fight seemed to keep getting worse. It was raining. I slipped off the curb and..." he exhaled sharply, voice breaking. "The car didn't stop in time, I crashed against a tree, and you were the one who received the worse end"

You swallowed. "And after that?"

"I came to see you," he whispered. "Every day. For weeks. I sat beside you, read to you, talked to you even though you couldn't hear me. I brought you the cactus from your studio. I..."

You looked away, eyes stinging. "But when I woke up..."

"I stopped coming," he said, his voice barely audible now. "Because I thought... it would hurt less to disappear than to watch you forget me."

The words settled between you like ash.

"I didn't forget you," you whispered. "Not really. You were everywhere. In things I didn't understand. The way I reacted to you. The way I looked for you even when I was mad at you."

He watched you like you were saving him and tearing him apart at the same time. You exhaled, slow and unsteady. "You weren't a stranger, Jungkook. Not really. I didn't know why, but I kept choosing you anyway."

His lips parted, but no sound came out. Just a breath. Just gratitude.

The rain outside began to lighten, softening into a misty hush. Inside the café, the world had folded in around you: warm, quiet, intimate. Like the past and present were finally speaking to each other in the same room.

"Let me take you home," he said gently.

You didn't respond right away. You just nodded, slowly, carefully, like your body was making a decision your mind still hadn't caught up to.

He opened the door for you, and the wind brushed past you both. For a moment, you stood under the awning, watching the city blur behind rain. And then you turned to him and said, "You'll answer everything, right? If I ask?"

He looked you dead in the eye. "Anything. Everything."

And for the first time in a long time, when you both stepped into the rain and toward his car, it didn't feel like running. It felt like returning.

"What were we like... before the accident?"

He didn't answer right away.

You watched the side of his face, the soft twitch of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed locked on the road a second too long, like he was organizing memories in a drawer he hadn't opened in a while.

Then, slowly, he reached toward the glove compartment and pulled out a small leather-bound notebook, its corners frayed from use. He held it out to you without a word.

You looked down at it, frowning as you took it in your hands. The leather was warm, familiar. There was a tiny sketch of a cat doodled in the corner of the cover. Your sketch. You flipped through the pages.

Your handwriting.

Your drawings.

Short, messy notes written in blue pen. Dialogue bubbles. Storyboards. Scenes about a couple waking up late, arguing over grocery lists, dancing in the kitchen in their socks. Pages where the girl looked suspiciously like you, and the boy... well.

"Is this mine?" you asked.

He nodded. "You were working on it all the time. You said you wanted to make a comic about a normal couple. No drama, no perfect endings, just real life. Ours."

You flipped through the pages, stunned. You had no memory of drawing these, but the style was undeniably yours. Every detail made your chest ache with something you didn't know how to name.

"I don't remember any of this."

"I know," he said softly. "But you loved this project. You were going to publish it. You even had a name for it."

You looked at the front page. In your own messy cursive: "Monday Mornings."

A breath caught in your throat. You didn't even know why, but that title felt like something you'd once whispered in someone's ear, laughing under the covers.

"I didn't support you enough," Jungkook said suddenly, voice low and raw. "You wanted to take it public. You had this pitch ready, you were so excited. And I... I said we should wait. That, maybe, it wasn't the right time. I thought I was protecting you. I didn't realize I was just making you feel small."

You didn't answer, you just kept turning the pages.

A drawing caught your eye: the girl kissing the boy's shoulder while he made coffee. A heart drawn above them. Underneath, you'd scrawled:

"You always said mornings were cruel. So I made us soft."

Your fingers trembled.

"You said something before the accident," Jungkook continued quietly. "You said, 'Why does it feel like you're always patting my head instead of holding my hand?'"

You looked out the window. The trees blurred past in green shadows. Your heart thudded somewhere in your stomach.

"I never forgot that," he said. "I never stopped hearing it."

You closed the notebook and held it close to your chest.

He glanced at you, uncertain. "Are you okay?"

You nodded. But you didn't feel okay. You felt like you were standing at the edge of a memory that had just started to turn around and look at you.

The days blurred.

Not in the romantic way people talked about when they were in love, not in the way that made time feel like honey or sunsets. No, those days blurred like ink in water, like memory diluted until it left only a pale ghost of what used to be.

You tried.

God, you tried.

You woke up each day with hope clawing its way up your throat, searching the mirror for a spark, a flicker, something familiar in your own reflection. And sometimes, there were moments. A smell, a certain playlist, the way Jungkook's fingers traced lazy circles against your wrist when he thought you weren't paying attention. Sometimes it hit you like déjà vu, but soft, like the memory itself was holding its breath.

Other times, though, it felt like you were pretending to live someone else's life. Walking through a home filled with photos you couldn't remember taking, laughing at inside jokes you didn't really get, wanting to reach for Jungkook, only to stop midway, unsure if the heat in your chest was real... or borrowed from a version of you who no longer existed.

Jungkook didn't push. Not in words, anyway.

But sometimes you felt the weight of his gaze. Quiet desperation woven between the lines of his patience. And that's when it got hard. When it hurt the most, when you felt like you were failing both him and yourself.

That morning, you'd had another flash.

You had opened a kitchen drawer, reaching for a spoon, and your hand landed on a small, yellow plastic ring. The kind you get from a vending machine. For some reason, your breath caught. You had no idea why, but your fingers trembled.

You sat on the floor and cried.

Jungkook had found you there, and he didn't ask questions. He just sat beside you and held you close until your breathing slowed.

But he didn't say anything, either. And that was almost worse.

You both had grown used to that type of scene, where you just broke down and he held you until he made sure you were breathing properly again.

Now, in the car, your fingers fidgeted in your lap. "I hate this."

He blinked. "Hate what?"

"This... in-between. Not remembering. Remembering too much. Never enough. It's like I'm stuck between two mirrors, and I keep seeing myself, but never fully."

He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm trying," you added, barely a whisper.

"I know you are," he said.

Silence again. Just the tires splashing over wet asphalt.

"But it's hard," you admitted, voice cracking. "It's hard needing space from someone who makes you feel safe. It's hard needing time from someone who clearly never stopped loving you."

He didn't answer right away. Just exhaled, slow and careful. "Do you know how many times I've almost told you everything again? How many times have I looked at you and wanted to say 'Just come back'? But I couldn't. Because if I pushed too hard, I'd lose you all over again."

"Sometimes it feels like you expect me to be her again. That girl I was."

"I don't," he said quickly, sharply. "I just miss her. That's different."

"Is it?" you asked. "Because it doesn't feel different when I look into your eyes and all I see is disappointment every time I get something wrong."

"I'm not disappointed in you..."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped. "Every time I forget something, you look away. Every time I hesitate, you sigh like it's breaking your heart."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Because it is. But that's not your fault" his jaw flexed. "I know it's hard, but I never said you had to be her, that version of you. I love you. Now. Not just the version of you I lost."

You laughed bitterly. "But it's not that simple. You can say that all you want, Jungkook, but I see it. I see you looking for her in me. In every little gesture. Every place we go. You're always chasing the past. And I'm scared I can't give it back to you."

The air in the car turned cold.

He stared at the road, eyes dark. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you look at me like I'm a stranger, when I know what your laugh sounds like when you do something you like? When I still hear your voice every night in my head, begging me not to let you go?"

That silenced you.

His voice cracked. "I would give anything to forget how you used to love me, because maybe then, this wouldn't feel like being stabbed in the same place over and over."

You turned to him slowly. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His shoulders were tight with things he wasn't saying.

You stared at him. "I don't know who I am anymore. What if there's nothing to go back to?"

The words cut deep. You hadn't meant for them to come out like that. But now they hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.

His jaw tensed. "So what, Y/n? You want me to let go? To pretend none of it ever happened?"

You pressed your lips together, looking away again, knowing there was something cooking in his brain before he happened again.

"I'm not some villain in your story. And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing you, but..." he stopped for a few seconds, getting some air back in his lungs "I'm trying to love someone who doesn't remember loving me. Do you know how hard that is? To have all these memories, all this history, and none of it matters unless you feel it too?" he took another deep breath, gulping down the knot in his throat. "But I'm not letting you go, I won't give up and I won't let you give up, because I'll be on every fucking step of the way. And if you don't remember me, then fuck it. We'll make new memories together that will be just as meaningful. But I'm not giving up on you, Y/n. I refuse to".

You hesitated, but you were thinking of the best answer to that. And just as you were ready to turn to him to speak again. It happened.

CRASH.

The sudden screech was the only noise in your ears for a few seconds, the blur of headlights the only thing you could see.

Your body snapped forward, seatbelt biting into your chest. Jungkook's arm instinctively flung in front of you, shielding, even as the car spun once and thudded to a stop against the guardrail.

Silence.

Rain tapped against the cracked windshield.

You gasped, chest heaving, eyes wide as your hands scrambled to reach him.

"Jungkook..."

"I'm okay," he croaked, already undoing his seatbelt. "Are you hurt? Look at me, are you okay?"

Your lips trembled, but you nodded.

He exhaled in shaky relief. His forehead had a small gash, bleeding into his eyebrow, but he was alert. Breathing.

"I'm fine," you whispered, touching his face. "You... you're bleeding."

He gave a strained laugh. "You should see the other guy."

You let out a sob that was half a laugh, half terror. Outside, the driver of the other car was already stepping out, waving, checking his own vehicle. No one was badly hurt. It was a scrape, a scare, not a tragedy.

But to you, it felt like an echo. Like lightning returning to the same scar in the ground. Your fingers trembled as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Jungkook looked at you, and for a second, neither of you moved.

"God, I thought..."

Your fingers trembled against his jacket, clutching him like you might lose him again. And maybe it was nothing. Just a fender-bender, but something inside you had shifted. A pressure in your chest, the sound of his voice, the flash of memory, your fingers curled around his wrist, and for a split second, you remembered.

A birthday.

Candles.

His laugh in the dark.

His hand brushing your cheek.

A yellow plastic ring.

It was small, barely a second, but it hit you so hard you flinched.

Jungkook caught the look in your eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, still breathless.

You shook your head slowly. "I... I think I remembered something."

He paused.

You closed your eyes.

"I think... you asked me to marry you once."

Jungkook's heart stopped. And then he smiled. A fragile, aching smile, like something inside him had cracked open.

"You said no," he whispered. "And then you made me ask again with a yellow plastic ring."

Your hand trembled over your heart. The ring in the drawer, the one that made you cry without knowing why.

You looked at him again, really looked, and for the first time, he didn't feel like a stranger.

After a few months, spring returned to the city in full bloom -and so, in your own way, did you.

After the second accident, everything shifted.

You didn't lose any more memories that night. If anything, something inside you cracked open, like a door that had always been there, waiting to be found. After that, you worked harder than ever. Not just because you wanted your memory back, but because he never stopped fighting for you, even when you didn't feel like the same person he loved.

You dove into it: the photographs, the journals, the smell of his cologne on your pillow, the comic sketches you once hid inside an old shoe box. The coffee shop, the places you used to go, the food he said you hated, but you found yourself ordering just to see.

Little by little, pieces returned.

Not all of them. You still forgot some dates. You still couldn't remember why Yoongi always called you "Captain," or what made Taehyung cry-laugh the first time you met. But the important things? You held onto those with everything you had.

You remembered how Jungkook's hand fit at the small of your back, the way he used to hum when he thought you were asleep, the soft way he'd whisper your name when he was half-asleep and needed to make sure you were still there.

And now, months later, you were there.

The bar buzzed with warmth and celebration, full of your friends, full of light. Outside, fairy lights glittered across the rooftop. Someone had already smashed the cake. There was a karaoke battle happening in the corner. Jin had taken over the music, and Jimin was trying to get everyone to pose under a banner that said you were celebrating the publication of your comics.

Your first printed volume. A comic book. A real one.

And even though you smiled at everyone and thanked them with full sincerity, there was only one person you were truly looking for in the crowd.

You spotted him on the couch near the edge of the room, nursing a drink. White shirt, rolled sleeves, his chain catching the light. He looked impossibly soft in the chaos, like a quiet moment wrapped in a person.

He was watching you, eyes half-lidded, that little smirk on his lips he didn't even realize he had when he looked at you.

You didn't overthink it. You just walked across the room, climbed right into his lap like you'd done a hundred times before, and leaned in close, so close your breath hit his ear. "Don't think I forgot the first night you let me draw you naked."

He choked.

You could feel the sharp inhale beneath your palms as his hands gripped your waist, stunned. "What... what did you just say?"

You pulled back slowly, watching his face twist with disbelief.

"Bedroom floor," you said. "You were freezing but you wouldn't move until I got the curve of your shoulder right. You were so dramatic."

His eyes filled with something raw.

"No one else knew that," he said hoarsely.

You shrugged softly, nose brushing his. "I told you I'd come back to you. I'm not all the way there yet, but I'm close. I feel it."

He stared at you like you were the answer to every prayer he'd never spoken out loud. Like you were a miracle wearing your own skin.

And then he kissed you.

There, in the middle of the rooftop, with music in the background and your friends around you and the stars blinking quietly above, he kissed you like the world had finally come back into focus.

"You remembered the sketch," he whispered against your mouth.

You smiled. "I remembered you."

And as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if afraid to blink, you knew one thing for sure:

You weren't just returning to your old self, you were becoming more, you were rewriting everything with love in your hands.

The apartment was quiet, washed in golden lamplight and the soft shuffle of sheets.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, sketchbook in your lap, pencil smudged between your fingers. Jungkook lay beside you, one arm bent under his head, the other lazily tracing patterns along your thigh, like he couldn't stand to stop touching you, even for a second.

"Is that me again?" he asked, voice low and a little sleepy.

You smiled, not looking up. "No. It's us."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to peek. The page showed a messy panel -your typical style- drawn in soft graphite. Two figures sitting in bed, one sketching, one watching. Simple. Intimate.

"I look good," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true." he leaned in, brushing his lips over your shoulder. "But also... because you draw me the way you see me. And that version of me? That's my favorite."

You paused, pencil hovering mid-air.

Then, quietly: "I think I'm happy again."

His smile faded into something softer. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Not just because I remember things now. But because I feel like myself again. Like... we're back. But not just back... better."

Jungkook turned onto his side, pulling you into his arms until your cheek rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.

"You know," he whispered, "you could forget everything all over again, and I'd still find my way back to you."

You pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. "You don't have to."

"I know." he kissed your forehead. "But I would."

The sketchbook slipped from your lap, forgotten. The city murmured outside the windows, but inside -here, in this room, in his arms- you had everything you needed.

You curled into him, your breathing syncing with his. And as the night folded around you like a favorite page in a well-loved book, you knew you'd never forget this feeling again.

Home.

Him.

You.

The music was loud -some mix of funky beats and synth pop- but San could still hear the soft clink of the ice in your glass from across the bar. You were seated at the far end, alone, just like that first time. Just like before. 

He leaned against the brick wall, half in shadow, fingers drumming a slow rhythm against his thigh. The denim of his jacket was worn in all the places your hands used to touch. You always tugged on his sleeves when you laughed, like he was something to hold onto. 

You weren't laughing now. 

You looked... calm. Pretty. Like nothing was missing. 

Except everything was. 

You didn't notice him. Not yet. 

And just like the first time, some guy, button-down open too far -smile too wide-, saw you sitting there and made his move. 

San stiffened, exhaling slowly through his nose. 

He'd timed it. He knew this was when it happened, when you got approached and rolled your eyes so hard he could feel your annoyance from across the room. He'd used that moment to swoop in, smug and playful, pretending to be your boyfriend just to get the creep to back off. It worked like a charm. You laughed, he stayed. And you two talked until the bar closed. 

It was the beginning of everything. 

So this had to work. 

He watched closely now, waiting for the same flicker of irritation on your face, but it didn't come. Instead, you smiled politely at the guy. Laughed, even. Tucked your hair behind your ear like you were actually interested. 

San felt the sharp stab of something he didn't want to name. 

The guy leaned in, too close, and San couldn't stay back anymore. He pushed off the wall and crossed the bar with purpose in his step, heartbeat hammering, sweat pooling at the base of his neck. He rehearsed his lines a thousand times in his head. 

Same as before. Same as before. Same as before. 

He stopped at your table, resting his hand on the back of your chair like it belonged there. 

"Hey, baby," he said, trying to keep it light, teasing. "Sorry I'm late. You didn't wait long, did you?" 

You blinked up at him, surprised. The man sitting across from you frowned, shifting in his seat. 

"Excuse me?" you said, brows furrowing. 

Your voice was soft, unfamiliar even in its familiarity. 

San's smile didn't falter. He had practiced it in the mirror, wanting to do it just like that first night. "You know I hate it when you start drinking without me" he gave the other man a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Mind giving us a minute, bro?" 

The man looked between you both, clearly annoyed. But you didn't say anything. You just looked at San like he was an inconvenient glitch in your night, not someone your soul used to orbit around. 

"Whatever," the guy muttered, grabbing his beer and walking away. 

Silence settled between you and San, heavier than the bass vibrating through the walls. 

He expected you to be angry, confused. Maybe even impressed like last time. But instead, you stared at him with narrowed eyes and a bemused smile. 

"That was... bold," you said, tilting your head. "Do I know you?" 

The words punched the air from his lungs like a second car crash. 

Those were the words he was so scared to hear when he first knew of your state after the accident. 

He didn't visit you a single time you were in the hospital after you woke up, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to bear the idea of you not remembering him. He couldn't bear the idea of not being part of your life any longer. 

That was why he asked your friends to erase any trace of him from your apartment, from your phone... He was about to let go, until he thought that maybe that was his chance to start it all over again, to live again the beauty of falling for you, and you falling for him. 

You in that pub wasn't a coincidence. Not at all. 

He chuckled softly, looking down for a second to hide the devastation in his eyes. "Kind of," he murmured. "We've met. Once or twice." 

You looked at him for a long beat. Not with recognition. Not with love. But... curiosity. 

"Well, if you're going to crash my night, you might as well sit down." 

He blinked. 

You gestured to the seat across from you, and he moved slowly, cautiously -as if the world might fall apart again if he moved too fast. 

He sat. 

You sipped your drink, watching him over the rim of your glass. "So... is this a thing you do often? Pretend to be someone's boyfriend to scare off competition?" 

San let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Only when I'm desperate." 

There was a pause. You tilted your head. "And are you?" 

He met your gaze. For the first time in weeks, you were looking directly at him. Really looking. 

His voice was low, gentle. "I lost something important. I'm just trying to find it again." 

You didn't answer right away. You just stared at him, lips twitching like they were debating whether or not to smile.  And then -unexpectedly, softly- you did. You smiled. Not because you remembered. Not because you knew what he meant, but because something about him felt warm. Like a song you hadn't heard in years but still knew how to hum. 

"Okay, mystery man," you said, tapping your glass against his. "Tell me the story of that thing you're missing, then."

He looked at you, breath catching in his throat. And this time, he let himself hope.

You sat across from him, your finger tracing lazy circles against the condensation on your glass, looking at him attentively as he refused to talk about himself, to go deep in anything that wasn't the moment between you two. And it made you suspicious, but also curious. 

"So?" you asked, lips quirking at the corners. "Are you gonna tell me your name, or are we doing the whole mysterious stranger at the bar thing tonight?"

He smirked. 

God, it was exactly like the first time. 

That smug, amused curl of your lips, that cocky tone as you tilted your head. And he tried to mimic the way he reacted to it, mirroring your smirk. Only this time, there was something behind it. Something heavy in his eyes, buried just deep enough that you couldn't quite reach it.

"No names," he said smoothly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "It ruins the fantasy."

You raised a brow, playing along without thinking. "Oh? And what fantasy is that?"

"The one where you fall in love with me for the night," he replied, not missing a beat. "No expectations. No promises. Just... this."

Your heart skipped, maybe from the way he said it, or maybe from the way he looked at you, like he was seeing more than what was on the surface. It was unnerving, but oddly comforting.

You didn't know him. But something about him felt like déjà vu.

"Hmm," you said, swirling the last of your drink. "Sounds like a line you've used before."

He chuckled under his breath. "Once or twice."

You narrowed your eyes. "Do I look like the kind of girl who falls for strangers in bars?"

"You look like the kind of girl who pretends she doesn't," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Right before she steals the guy's lighter and walks out with his heart."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and it caught you off guard. It felt... real.

"So you think you've got me all figured out?"

"Not yet," he murmured, gaze softening. "But I'd like to."

The words hung between you like a dare.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs, testing him. "Then why don't you tell me something about yourself? Something small."

He hesitated. Not because he didn't want to, but because every answer he had was yours. Every story he could tell was tied to memories you no longer carried. 

So instead, he reached for a lie wrapped in truth. 

"I box," he said. 

You tilted your head. "Box?" 

"Yeah. Keeps me sane." he looked down, twisting his ring, a nervous habit he didn't even know he still had. "Started when I was fifteen. Got serious around twenty. It's... one of the only things I'm good at." 

"That's not true," you said quietly, before your brain caught up with your mouth. 

He looked up sharply, for a second, excited about you possibly remembering something. You blinked, confused at yourself. "I mean, you don't look like someone who only has one skill."

A small smile crept across his face. "You think I look talented, huh?" 

"I think you look like you think you're talented."

He let out a breathy laugh and pressed a hand to his chest. "Oof. Beautiful and brutal. You really haven't changed." 

You froze for a split second. 

"What?" 

"Nothing," he said quickly, waving it off. "Just... déjà vu." 

You stared at him, something prickling at the edge of your mind. That look again. Like he knew you too well for a stranger. Like he was holding a secret in his mouth, keeping it safe. 

"Alright, mysterious boxer," you said, sitting up straighter. "If we're doing this no-names thing, then I get to make up your backstory." 

He grinned. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah. Let's see..." you tapped your chin, pretending to study him. "You're probably a spoiled rich kid, dropped out of business school, got into the underground fighting for the thrill." 

"Interesting." 

"You can drive a car" you continued, "but you ended up with a motorbike because it makes you feel free. You say you hate attention, but you love the way people look at you."

He laughed again, but this one hurt a little. Because it was true. All of it. You were remembering pieces without knowing you were. 

"And what about you?" he asked, trying to push through the lump in his throat. "What's your story?" 

You looked down at your empty glass, suddenly quiet. 

"I don't know yet," you said, half-joking. "Still figuring it out." 

He swallowed hard.

"Then let me stick around a little," he said softly. "See how it turns out." 

You looked at him, eyes searching. Something pulled inside your chest, like the faint echo of a melody you used to dance to in the dark. 

"Okay," you said. "But no names. Just for tonight."

He smiled, genuine, heartbreakingly sweet. "Deal." 

And as the bartender slid two more drinks toward your table, San let himself fall into the lie a little deeper.  Because if he couldn't make you remember, he'd make you fall in love again. 

San had chosen the same quiet little café for your "first date", the place where you'd spent hours sipping overpriced lattes, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He'd kept it simple, just like that night. The table by the window, the soft hum of the city outside, the warm, golden glow of the café lights wrapping around the two of you like a blanket.

It was perfect, or it should have been.

He'd prepared for this moment. Everything was planned. Even the awkwardness that he had to recreate. 

But as soon as the waitress dropped off the drinks and San reached for his, he fumbled. His fingers brushed against the edge of the cup, and the entire thing tipped over.

Splash. 

The coffee spilled across the table, splashing onto his lap and soaking the front of his white shirt. San pressed his lips together, omitting the huge sigh after he managed to ruin the t-shirt you bought for him. 

On your first day, he wore one of his favorite t-shirts before he ruined it by accidentally spilling the coffee over him -which, later, would end up with one of the most touching gifts you'd ever given him: the same shirt, brand new and clean. 

He went through the same, although this time, it wasn't accidental. He spilled the coffee on purpose and he was wearing the same t-shirt you bought him. 

It had been so embarrassing the first time. The coffee had scalded him, leaving him with a red mark on his skin. You'd laughed so hard that night, teasing him endlessly as he frantically tried to clean himself up. 

But now, instead of laughing, you stood up, your face immediately flooded with worry. 

"Oh my God, San, are you okay?" you reached across the table, instinctively grabbing a napkin, your hands trembling slightly as you dabbed at the wet spots on his shirt. 

He watched you, caught between confusion and guilt. This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to be a game. 

"You're supposed to laugh," he said with a nervous chuckle, his tone strained as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. "You always laugh when I do this." 

But you didn't laugh. You were too focused on him, on making sure he wasn't hurt. 

"San, you're burning up!" you looked down at his shirt and noticed the red splotch from the coffee. The way his face twisted in discomfort made something in your chest tighten. 

"I'm fine," he lied, wiping at the coffee stain with his napkin, still trying to brush it off like it was just another part of the act. 

But when you kept leaning forward, your eyes full of concern, he felt that same vulnerability creep up on him, the one he tried so hard to bury. The one that always came to the surface when you'd showed him a kindness that had no ulterior motive.

You didn't pull back. Instead, you leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his skin as you carefully checked the burn mark, trying to gauge how serious it was. 

"Please, let me take a look at it," you said quietly, your voice shaky with worry. 

San's chest tightened, and his heart hammered in his ribcage. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to make you remember. He was supposed to recreate the fun, the banter, the way things were before. 

But instead, he felt like he was falling apart in front of you. 

"Hey, it's really nothing," he insisted, trying to pull away, but your grip tightened. 

"No, it's not nothing," you said, your voice softer now, almost as if you were reassuring yourself. "This could leave a scar. What if it gets worse? You're not fine, San." 

He finally allowed you to inspect the burn, the cool concern in your touch contrasting sharply with the heat that still lingered on his skin. It made his breath hitch, but you weren't teasing him. You weren't laughing at his clumsiness. You were genuinely worried about him.

It was so... different. It wasn't the playful teasing he remembered. It wasn't the way you used to mock him for every little thing. You were taking this seriously, as though he was the important thing at this moment. Not the game. Not the memories he was trying to recreate. 

You met his gaze, your eyes full of something, something close to panic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked again, more insistent now. "Maybe you should go to the hospital and..."

"No," he interrupted, his voice tight. "I'm fine. Really. It's not as bad as it looks." 

But you didn't seem convinced, still gently dabbing at his shirt, your touch careful and concerned, the weight of your eyes never leaving him. It made him feel seen in a way he hadn't been before. The memory of that first date -the teasing, the laughter- felt like something out of a past life now, replaced by a deep, undeniable care he didn't know how to handle.

"I think we need to get you cleaned up," you said, standing up. "Come on. I'm taking you to the restroom." 

He followed you, unable to hide the tightness in his chest, the way his pulse quickened. This wasn't the same. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And yet, the way you gently guided him toward the restroom made him realize that maybe... maybe this was better. The way you worried about him, your eyes soft but full of something deeper, made him feel like he wasn't a stranger to you. Even if you couldn't remember who he was, the connection was still there. Unspoken, yet undeniable. 

When you reached the restroom, you immediately pulled paper towels from the dispenser, and as you handed him a few, your fingers brushed his.  The smallest touch sent a shiver through his spine. 

"You're not making this easy," he muttered, his voice laced with that same nervous humor he'd used to cover his discomfort, but there was no bite to it now. Just a soft, vulnerable edge.

You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but it was warm, and you were still checking him over. 

"I know," you said, your voice gentle. "But I need to make sure you're okay, San." 

And for the first time since everything had shifted, since the accident, since the loss of memories, San wondered if maybe, just maybe, you were remembering him in a way he could never fully understand. 

He was disappointed at first, but not anymore. 

It was late when you both ended up outside the apartment building. He had to pretend you were guiding him when, actually, he knew the steps there by heart. He could've easily been blinded and he still would've found his way to your door. 

The city buzzed quietly around you, muted streetlights casting gold halos across the wet pavement, the air still damp from an earlier drizzle. San walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps.

He was quiet. 

You were too. 

The kind of silence that felt almost sacred. Like something was waiting to happen. 

He'd walked you home. Just like that first night. After coffee and ruined shirts, after shy smiles and missed glances, he'd done exactly what he did all those years ago: offered to walk you back, pretending it was "just in case." Pretending he wasn't already hopelessly caught in your orbit. 

But this time, the orbit felt unfamiliar to you. You didn't recognize the gravity between you. Not logically. 

Only emotionally. 

There was something there. Something unspoken.

You reached the front steps, turning to face him, and he stopped just a breath too close. He looked at you the same way he had back then, like he was trying to memorize your features, like the weight of the moment sat heavy on his chest. 

"I'm not gonna ask to come up," he said softly, almost repeating the words he'd used the first time. "That's not how I do things."

You tilted your head. "But you want to come up, don't you?"

A small, surprised smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah. But... Eventually."

"Eventually... That means you're confident on a second date" you teased him. 

"I know there will be"

You both laughed, gently, though yours was more confused than amused. Something about that vibe felt familiar, like you had lived it before. Although you couldn't tell. Not clearly. It was like catching pieces of a dream you weren't sure you'd had. But the way your body reacted to him -how your heart raced, how the tips of your fingers tingled when he stepped a little closer- it made it hard to ignore the sense of déjà vu. 

He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. 

His mind started flooding with memories from that night. He kissed you for the first time there, while you were leaning against the railing, with that half-smile that always drove him crazy. A smile that told him you already knew what was about to happen, but you were just waiting to know if he dared to do it. 

He blinked at you, caught between then and now. Because you were the same person, but your eyes were sparkling differently from that night. There was something in your vibe that told him you weren't with him. Not completely. 

"I wish I could kiss you right now" he whispered out loud. 

And then, softly: "You wish... Is there something stopping you?"

His breath caught.

God, he wanted to. He wanted to lean in and kiss you exactly the way he had that night, slow and reckless, like he had nothing to lose. But this wasn't that night. This wasn't you. Not really. You didn't remember the tension, the stolen glances, the anticipation that had built up between you back then. 

You were looking at him with new eyes. 

And still...

You hadn't pulled away. 

He raised his hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed your jaw, tentative, reverent, like he was afraid he might scare you off. You leaned into his touch instinctively, and that one simple motion shattered something in him. 

So he whispered, "I'm going to kiss you now," and you nodded before he even finished the sentence. 

The kiss wasn't like the first time. 

It wasn't playful. It wasn't bold. 

It was quiet. 

Tender.

A question instead of a declaration.

San kissed you like he was saying please remember me, and you kissed him back like you were saying I don't, but I feel you anyway. 

Your hands found his jacket, gripping the fabric just slightly, like you needed something to hold onto. His thumb brushed against your cheek. You melted into him, the city and the night and the world dissolving around the pressure of his mouth on yours. 

And when he finally pulled back -breathless, eyes wide and glassy- you stayed close, your forehead pressing against his, like it was the only place in the world that made sense. 

"That didn't feel new," you whispered, your voice soft and trembling. "That felt like... like I've done it a thousand times before." 

San let out a broken laugh, one that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.

"You have," he whispered back. "You have." 

And for the first time, he let go of the script. Stopped trying to make you remember by recreating the past. 

"I mean, maybe... you dreamed about it" he corrected himself quickly, as soon as he was aware of the confused look. 

San sat at the end of the table, eyes fixed on the untouched glass of beer in front of him. The bar was the same. The booth was the same. Even the playlist hadn't changed much, still throwing out old songs that reminded him of shared nights, loud laughter, your hand under the table laced in his. 

But this time... your seat was empty. 

"You did it?" Wooyoung asked quietly from across the table, voice careful not to trigger whatever thread was barely holding San together. "You brought her here again?" 

San didn't respond right away. He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, the breath shaky and uneven. "It's where we used to hang out all the time. If there's a chance it triggers something..." 

Yunho leaned forward, concern etched into every line of his face. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, man." 

"I'm not doing this for me," San said too quickly, then caught himself. 

He was. Of course he was. 

He needed you to remember -not just for you, but because he didn't know who he was without you. And this version of you, this distant version who looked at him like he was just another charming stranger, it was slowly unraveling him.

"She used to sit right there," San muttered, tapping the empty cushion beside him with his knuckle. "She'd steal fries off my plate even though she ordered her own. Called it a 'tax for good company.'" 

The group chuckled softly, but no one really smiled.

"She used to kick me under the table when I made bad jokes," San went on, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "And whenever someone flirted with me, she'd hold my hand tighter. Not because she was jealous. Just to remind me she was there. And now..." 

He looked up suddenly, eyes rimmed with red.

"She is here," he whispered, "but she's not. She doesn't know she was my everything." 

No one spoke. Mingi reached out first, a quiet hand on San's shoulder. Seonghwa slid his beer across the table without a word, just as he had the night San told them you were in the hospital.

"I brought her here last night," San continued, staring ahead like he was talking to someone far away. "Sat in this exact spot. Tried to recreate the night we celebrated her getting that job at the museum. Even told the waiter it was her promotion night again. He just looked at me like I was insane, and I had to tell her it was an excuse to get a discount."

He laughed bitterly.

"She smiled at everyone but me." 

Another beat of silence passed. 

"Why don't you just tell her?" Yeosang asked quietly. "Tell her who you are. What you were to her." 

San shook his head violently, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "Because if she really doesn't remember... then it's not her choice to love me again. It's just pressure. A story she doesn't recognize. She deserves to choose me. Even if it means she doesn't choose me." 

His voice broke completely on the last word. No one had seen San cry in years, not like this. Not with his head down, fists clenched, eyes burning with grief that hadn't found closure.

Wooyoung reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing once.

"We'll help you," he said quietly. "Whatever memory you want to bring back, whatever moment you need to recreate next... we've got you. Even if she doesn't remember yet, we do." 

San swallowed hard.

His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "The picnic. The one in spring. With the wildflowers."

Yunho blinked. "The one where you both got locked out of the car and had to hitchhike back?" 

San gave a weak laugh through the tears. "Yeah. That one."

The friends all exchanged looks.

"God, she teased you for weeks after that," Mingi smiled. 

San's eyes turned to the door. "I just need to see her laugh like that again." 

The air was soft with spring, the kind of day where sunlight filtered through a pale blue sky and the breeze carried the scent of blooming grass. A wide field stretched out before them, dotted with patches of wildflowers that danced like secrets on the wind. 

San laid the blanket down carefully, pressing the corners with rocks just like he remembered. Every detail had been replicated: the chipped thermos filled with cold brew, the half-burnt cinnamon muffins, the little Bluetooth speaker already playing the playlist he'd made for you back then. Even the weather was working in his favor like the universe just wanted things to work out. 

He glanced toward you as you stepped barefoot on the blanket, your shoes left somewhere in the grass. You looked peaceful -curious, but peaceful. 

"This is... beautiful," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Feels like déjà vu." 

San smiled, carefully setting down the sandwiches. "You... I mean, a friend said that exact same thing I brought him here." he lied.  

You looked up. "Really?" 

"Hmm." he plopped down across from you, legs crossed and heart pounding. "Y.... He also told me I'd probably forget the sunscreen and get a sunburn on just my nose."

You paused. "...Did you?"

He pointed to his nose with a sheepish grin. "Roasted like a marshmallow." 

But it wasn't any friend, it was you who warned him, and it was you who started teasing him for looking all red for days. 

A laugh slipped from you before you could stop it, and his heart ached at the sound. That laugh. That warmth. It was like watching the sun through fog. But something else was happening too, little things.

You hummed along to a song playing through the speaker, one that wasn't particularly popular. San had added it to the playlist on a whim, years ago. You shouldn't have recognized it. 

For a moment, it felt like everything was working out. Like he was making a good job on just reliving everything that happened. 

But then... the keys. 

He was about to whine about the car being locked out, but you stopped him before he could, swinging the keys in your hand up in the air. 

As he stood to throw away a crumpled napkin shortly after you arrived, you casually reached into the open car door and plucked the keys from the ignition where he'd left them hanging. You didn't even look twice. Just dropped them into your bag like it was second nature. 

San froze, confused about the sound. Confused about the fact that you had picked them up. 

"Hey," he said slowly, cautiously, "why'd you grab the keys?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"The keys," he repeated, nodding toward your bag. "You took them out of the car."

You hesitated, frowning faintly. "Oh. I don't know. Just... reflex, I guess."

San's chest tightened.

Because last time -back then- you hadn't grabbed them. He'd left them in the ignition, and you'd both realized hours later, after the car locked itself automatically. It was the beginning of a mini-disaster -your phone was dead, his had no signal, and the two of you ended up hitchhiking back with a couple of old farmers and a trunk full of potatoes.

It had been the most ridiculous, uncomfortable, hilarious afternoon of his life.

And now -this time- you had stopped it from happening. Without realizing. Without remembering. 

Something in you had changed the outcome. 

"Are you okay?" you asked suddenly, your eyes scanning his face. 

San quickly shook himself back to the moment, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I just... I was kind of looking forward to getting locked out again." 

You tilted your head. "Again?"

He grinned, half-teasing, half-choked with emotion. That was the first time you held his hand for more than five seconds without making a joke about his rings. But now that chance was gone. 

"I mean... getting locked out. That's it. Not again"

You stared at him, lips parted, like you didn't know whether to laugh or ask questions. 

But you didn't ask. Not yet. 

Instead, you reached out and grabbed his hand, quietly, gently. No jokes. No teasing. Just fingers threading through his, like you'd done it a hundred times before.

San swallowed hard and looked away, blinking back the sting behind his eyes.

"I really like being around you," you said softly, thumb brushing over his knuckles. "It's strange... but comfortable. Like... like I've missed you, even though I don't know you."

And with that, the tension in his shoulders gave out.

He didn't say anything.

He just nodded, eyes closed, clutching your hand like it was the only tether he had left.

"You don't need to lock us out of the car for us to spend more time together" and there it was, the teasing. "You should just... ask".

The sun had dipped below the hills after they both had finally chosen to stay there, painting the sky in deep purples and sleepy oranges. What began as an afternoon picnic had slowly turned into an evening spent inside the car, warm and close, with music playing softly in the background and empty snack wrappers strewn across the dash. 

San sat in the passenger seat, one leg propped up, his shoulder brushing against yours every time he shifted. Outside, the air had cooled, the windows fogged slightly with your breath and the temperature drop, casting a soft haze over the world beyond. 

You were both laughing, genuine and unfiltered.

"I still can't believe you tried to impress your professor with a meme," you giggled, hugging your knees to your chest. 

San groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It was intellectual humor. I was ahead of my time!" 

You nudged him, and he looked over -smiling, disarmed. 

He knew all your stories by heart, he swore he could tell them by himself. But he just loved hearing them from you again. 

There was something different in the air now.

The kind of quiet that only comes after hours of sharing too much. The kind where words run out, and the silence doesn't feel awkward. It feels close. 

The car had grown dark. Only the faint glow of the overhead light lingered, and the soft ambient music, now long into the playlist's more intimate side, filled the small space with low, lazy beats. 

Your gaze lingered on his profile.

Something in the way he looked that night -quiet, open, raw- pulled at something deep in you. Maybe it was the soft rasp of his voice. Maybe it was the way he looked at you like he'd seen this moment before, and had been waiting for it to happen all over again. 

You didn't speak as your hand reached for his.

He took it like he always had -with ease, like it was second nature. Like your fingers belonged between his.

"I don't really understand what's happening between us," you whispered, voice barely audible over the music. "But I don't want it to stop." 

San's breath caught. 

He turned toward you slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment -like he was caught between joy and heartbreak. 

"You don't have to understand it," he said softly, "just... stay in it." 

You nodded. "Okay." 

And then you kissed him. Not like strangers. Not like it was new. But like your mouth remembered the shape of his. Like your body leaned into his not with curiosity, but with longing that had been stitched into your bones. 

San sighed against your lips, his hand cradling your face like he was scared you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened slowly -lazy, warm, like hours of conversation had been leading to this single moment of surrender. 

Without a word, he climbed into the backseat, pulling you gently with him. Limbs tangled, laughter hushed as you maneuvered into the cramped space. The cold pressed against the windows while your bodies grew warmer. 

Clothes slipped away in pieces, not rushed -felt. And you didn't feel shy, you didn't feel nervous when his eyes fell over your bare breasts, because the comfort mixed with a familiarity you weren't sure how to handle. 

Good lord, he loved the way you always arched for him. 

San cupped your breasts, his thumbs momentarily twirling around your nipples as he leaned down to kiss you again. Your tongues tangled together, and the taste was so intoxicating but pleasant that you could only find yourself holding onto him even tighter. 

"It's the first time I like the taste of cigarettes so bad" you admitted out of breath with a smirk. 

His hands mapped your skin like it was familiar ground, his mouth following with reverence. He didn't worship you like someone new -he remembered you, in every soft kiss down your neck, every pause where he just looked. 

His lips went back to yours, crashing against your mouth as he dragged you on his lap, arms wrapped around your waist. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

His mind kept screaming, but he kept his lips sealed, forcing the kiss to grow even rougher as a way to keep those words from slipping and scare you away. 

"Wait... Let me..." you broke the kiss, trying to readjust yourself on top of him. 

Neither of you could help but giggle the moment you looked into each other's eyes as you shifted on his lap. 

With a hand on your neck, he pulled you into a new kiss, making sure his arms around you kept your bodies glued to each other. He groaned into the kiss when he felt your hand slipping in between your bodies to redirect him to your wet channel, both of you moaning as you pushed him into you the moment you lowered your hips. 

You weren't in love with him. Not yet. But your body moved like it still was. 

Your hips met his with the perfect depth and synch, like the two of you were dancing to a dance you had practiced several times before. 

And you had. 

San couldn't move his eyes away from you. His arms remained wrapped around your waist, just enough to pull your torso close to him and have his lips closing around one of your nipples, one hand teasing the other, while his free hand squeezed a spot below your ribs that made you squirm and moan. 

It was like he had studied your body, like his only aim was to make you feel good. 

"San" you moaned with a cracked whine. 

He swore he was going insane. He flipped the two of you over the backseat, resting his body in between your legs to pound into you, to angle his hips and make you lose control of your own body. One of your hands was on the window, the other on his shoulder. Yet he needed more. 

With a rough movement, he moved your hand away from the window to place it over his face. "Touch me, Y/n. I need your hands on me" he almost begged. 

And for that one night, in the backseat under a thousand quiet stars, San let himself fall again. Silently. Without hope or demand. Just the sweetness of closeness, of skin on skin, of your breath in his ear whispering his name like it still meant something. 

When it was over, tangled together under the soft cotton of his jacket, you fell asleep on his chest, heart steady against his. San didn't sleep. He just held you, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the car, wondering how long he could keep pretending that fate would give you back to him. 

For the first time, San didn't feel like recreating everything that happened between you two. It wasn't necessary. He was so caught up in taking the old you back, that he forgot about the possibility of him falling for you all over again under a whole different circumstance. 

Your relationship was bound to happen again. 

The next morning, the sun rose quietly. It didn't burst into the sky -it crept. Gentle and gold, seeping through the fogged windows of the car in soft beams that filtered across tangled limbs and rumpled jackets. 

You stirred first.

Your cheek was pressed against the bare skin of San's chest, rising and falling with every slow breath he took. His arms were still around you, protective and steady, and his heartbeat -low and calm- drummed beneath your ear.

You didn't move.

There was something safe about this. About waking up here, wrapped in a warmth that didn't feel foreign. Even though it should have. 

Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing against his ribs, and he tightened his hold just a little, as if even in sleep, he was scared you'd slip away. 

San was awake. 

He had been for a while. 

He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. Just breathed you in and let the silence hold him. Let the weight of your body against his lull the ache in his chest to something soft, something tolerable. But even in this dreamlike calm, he knew it wasn't real. 

You didn't know him. 

Not really. 

Not the way you used to. 

Still, when you tilted your face up and blinked sleepily at him, your mouth barely parted, skin still kissed by the warmth of last night, San let himself pretend. Just for a second. 

"Hi," you whispered. 

His heart squeezed. "Hey." 

A quiet smile tugged at your lips. "Did we actually...?" 

He gave a soft laugh. "Hmm. We did." 

You leaned back slightly, your eyes scanning his features. The messy hair. The tired eyes. The little indent on his lower lip where he always bit when nervous. "I don't usually do that." 

"I know," he said gently, gaze never leaving yours. 

There was something in the way he said it -too sure, too knowing-, but before you could question it, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His fingertips lingered on your cheek. 

"You're cold," he murmured. 

"I'm not," you replied, but you didn't stop him when he pulled his hoodie over your head and helped you into it, even though it was far too big and still smelled like him. 

You let yourself curl into his side again as if you'd done it before. Like you knew how. 

Outside, the world was waking up: birds calling through the trees, the breeze rustling through tall grass. But inside the car, time was still. The windows glowed softly with morning light. Neither of you spoke for a long while. 

Eventually, you tilted your head toward him again. "I feel like I'm always a step behind around you." 

San swallowed. "What do you mean?" 

You shrugged, fingers absently tracing the tattoo on his arm. "Like you know something I don't. Like... I'm supposed to understand all this, and I just... don't." 

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his face toward the window, eyes catching the sunlight like it might burn away the truth if he held it too long. 

"I guess," he said slowly, "some things just need time." 

You nodded, even if you didn't really understand. "Is it crazy that I trust you?" 

"No," San replied, his voice so soft it could have shattered. "Not crazy at all." 

And in that moment, you reached out and laced your fingers through his again.

No questions. No demands. 

Just skin on skin. A touch that said, I don't remember, but this feels right. 

San closed his eyes and let himself stay in the dream for one moment longer. 

The theater was quiet.

Not empty, just quiet. One of those midweek showings where only a handful of people were scattered across the seats, too far to hear or care what anyone else was doing. 

You sat next to San with a bucket of popcorn balanced between you and the sleeve of your drink pressed against your thigh. The previews flickered across the screen, too loud, too flashy, but neither of you really cared what movie was playing. 

He'd picked the film. Something fun. Light. Familiar. But you kept sneaking glances at him instead of watching. 

He looked different in the darkness. More relaxed. A little slouched. His beanie pulled low and a soft flannel shirt hanging open over his tee. It was almost domestic, comforting, the way he sat beside you like he'd done it a hundred times. 

Maybe he had. 

You just didn't know it. 

While the next trailer blared on screen, San leaned forward, checking his phone. Probably a text from a friend -you hadn't met any of them yet, but he talked about them often. Warmly. 

He always spoke like there were pieces of you in his stories, but never named them. 

You glanced over casually... and paused. 

His phone was dim, but not enough to miss it. There you were, on his screen. His lockscreen. It was a photo of you in the sun, squinting at the camera, wearing sunglasses perched lazily on your nose and a soft smile playing on your lips. You looked free. Happy. Head tilted back slightly like you'd just been laughing at something he said. 

But you had no memory of it.

You didn't remember the shirt you were wearing. Or where you were. Or him being there. 

Your chest tightened, breath caught somewhere high in your throat. 

It was just a photo. But it was proof of something bigger, something you couldn't quite reach.

"You okay?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at you. 

You blinked, startled. He must have seen your face. Or maybe the way you were staring at his phone a second too long. 

You nodded quickly, brushing it off. "Yeah. Just... tired." 

He didn't press, but you could feel it. That slight shift in his posture. That tension in the air like he knew you'd seen too much. Or maybe... not enough. 

He slipped his phone into his pocket and reached out, his hand brushing yours between the armrests. When you didn't pull away, he linked your fingers gently, grounding you with the warmth of his palm. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder. He smelled like something soft and earthy. Familiar. Like you'd worn his hoodie once, weeks ago, and the scent had never left your skin. 

"I like being with you," you murmured, almost a whisper.

San's grip tightened ever so slightly.

"I like being with you too," he said, voice hushed, almost cracking.

Neither of you watched the movie. You just sat in the dark, wrapped in something fragile and unnamed, with your face on his lockscreen and a hundred memories you couldn't see, but were somehow starting to feel. 

After the movie ended, you both chose to take your love somewhere else. 

You were back at your apartment now, San leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping on that awful canned iced coffee he swore by, while you sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone. 

He was telling you a story, something about a prank his friend -Yeosang- had pulled at a wedding. It was strange, telling you a story you were once part of, as if you had never been there. But he had grown used to it. 

But your mind wasn't really on it, because the image had stuck with you.

The lockscreen. 

That photo of you on his phone. 

You chewed your lip and finally cleared your throat. "Can... can I ask you something?" 

San stilled, the can pausing mid-air. "Sure." 

You stood, walked to him slowly, and held out your hand. "Your phone." 

His brows lifted. "Why?" 

"Just wanna see something." 

He hesitated, just for a second, before unlocking it and handing it over. You navigated to the lockscreen, pulling it up again. Your heart gave a strange little flutter.

"This picture..." you started softly, holding it out between you. "Where did you find this?" 

San looked down at the screen like it was something fragile. His thumb twitched against the seam of his jeans. 

"That was... I scrolled through your social media, and I found it" his voice was careful while he came up with a lie. "I thought you looked great, so I just... took it. I can change it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it's just... I was surprised after seeing myself on your phone" you admitted. "I didn't expect it".  

He nodded. "You don't mind it?"

You frowned slightly. "No. I actually look good" you teased with a chuckle. "I look happy there".

San swallowed hard, his gaze lowering as he murmured. "You were."

You studied his face for a long moment. Then your lips curved upward, just a little. "Your taste in screensavers is nice, I guess." 

He let out a soft chuckle, but the sound didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Funny, though," you added, unlocking your own phone. "Mine's kind of similar." 

You turned your screen toward him. It was a photo of a man's back -broad shoulders, hair messy in the wind, walking just ahead of you. The setting sun behind him made it hard to see clearly, but the place... it was the same river. The same wildflowers. The same time of year. 

San stared at it. Everything in him stilled.

"That's... a coincidence," he said, voice almost too calm.

You nodded slowly. "Guess so."

But neither of you said anything for a while.

You left the photo up a little longer, as if trying to feel something stir in your chest. Some sense of connection. But all you felt was the silence between you -quiet, waiting, fragile.

Then San smiled softly, stepping forward and brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe we just like the same places," he said gently. 

You tilted your head, searching his face. "Maybe." 

But as you leaned into his touch, your hand brushing lightly against his chest, you couldn't shake the strange flutter in your ribs, like a memory had tried to surface, only to slip beneath the water again.

"It was the lockscreen I had when I woke up" you frowned. 

San froze when he heard that confession, but he remained silent, waiting for you to speak, waiting for the next thing you'd say. 

"I haven't told you before... Well, it isn't something I go around telling" you nervously chuckled. "Some months ago... I had an accident. A pretty bad accident. I was in a coma for a few weeks, and when I woke up my mind was completely blank from the past five years and on. I didn't recognize my friends, or my workplace... I didn't even expect to be living here. But, somehow, that lockscreen was the only thing that made sense and gave me calm when everything was upside down. And it’s ridiculous, because I can’t see his face, or know who he is, but it just makes me… feel relaxed. Like nothing will be wrong". 

San felt his lip trembling. For the first time in weeks, he felt guilty. Because he left you alone when you needed support, because he abandoned you when you needed guidance, only because he was scared of his own feelings when you looked at him differently. And now, he was scared of how you’d react when you remembered things. 

"Why are you crying?" you scoffed, feeling your own eyes filling up with tears. 

"Oh?" he asked, brushing the reverse of his fingers against his cheeks, finding them wet. 

"You aren't feeling sorry for me, aren't you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

"Never, bunny". 

The nickname slipped from his lips before he could hold it back. And he noticed, the flash of surprise, the sparkle in you eyes under the tears. 

That nickname stirred something in you. 

"Bunny?" 

He remembered the way you’d always jump around when excited, the way you’d make small jumps instead of just walking or running, and that nickname made complete sense for him back in the day. 

"It's a nickname. It just... slipped out" 

"I like it" you confessed with a giggle. 

The sun was dipping low behind the skyline as San waited outside your office building.

He leaned casually against his Jeep, black hoodie pulled over his head, one boot crossed over the other as he scrolled through his phone. To anyone passing by, he looked like someone killing time -apathetic, detached.

But his thumb hadn't moved in two minutes, because his entire body was tense. Stomach in knots. Eyes flicking toward the doors every few seconds.

You were running late.

Again.

Which gave his mind far too much time to spiral.

He hadn't expected this part to hurt so much. Watching you build new routines that didn't have him in them. Smiling at strangers, coming out of buildings he'd waited for you a hundred times before -when he was your boyfriend, your ride home, your safe place. Now he was just... someone you were getting to know. And that should've been enough, except today, it almost wasn't. 

"San?" a familiar voice called.

He stiffened. His eyes snapped toward the sound, heart dropping like a stone.

It was one of your coworkers. Julie, maybe? He vaguely remembered her from a few parties, or maybe your birthday dinner. The two of you had once danced together after too much wine. She had no filter and a memory like a vault. 

She approached, smiling wide. "Oh my God, it is you! Wow. It's been a while. Y/n didn't say you were picking her up today... Are you two back together?" 

San felt his blood turn cold.

His mouth opened, then closed again. "I... uh..."

"She looked so lost after the accident," Julie kept going, oblivious. "But I always had a feeling you'd come back. You two were like..." 

"Hey, sorry," San cut in suddenly, eyes locked on the entrance.

You were walking out. Right. Now.

Shit.

"Can we not... talk about this right now?" he muttered, voice urgent but polite, already stepping away. 

Julie blinked, confused. "What? Wait, aren't you...?"

"I'll text you," he said quickly, already turning his back.

And then he was moving, crossing the pavement fast, intercepting you before your eyes could sweep over to Julie's side of the street.

"There you are," he said with a practiced smile, pulling open the passenger door. "Rough day?"

You blinked at the sudden warmth, distracted by the way he touched your lower back, guiding you gently into the car like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Exhausting," you muttered as you slid in.

He rounded the Jeep fast, hands tight on the steering wheel by the time he started the engine. You didn't notice the way he was breathing just a little too fast. Or how he double-checked his mirrors like he wasn't just looking for traffic, but watching to see if someone was still standing nearby.

"How was your day?" you asked casually.

San gave a small, breathless laugh.

"Almost perfect."

The drive was silent for a few minutes, until you broke the silence again, curiously looking at him while turning your body to him. 

"Do you know Julie?"

"What?" he nervously eyed you, his glance on you lasted less than two seconds. 

"Julie, you were talking to her before I got out"

San sighed, trying to come up with an explanation. "Oh, yeah. She's a friend of a friend. It's been a long time since I saw her last". 

Before you could ask more about it, he rushed to come up with a new topic that would distract you from the fact that he knew your coworker. And he breathed out, relieved, when you didn't fight back as you played along with his conversation. 

Three weeks slipped by like honey in warm tea -slow, golden, and somehow too sweet to be real. You and San weren't official, but something between you had rooted itself deep. You texted constantly, called often. He picked you up from work most days. You spent weekends together now: grocery shopping like old lovers, laughing too loudly in parks, falling asleep on his shoulder without even realizing it. 

And still... you never asked. Never pried about the way he knew exactly how you liked your coffee, or how his hand found yours in the dark before you could even reach. Just like you didn't ask why he was so against you meeting his friends, or how he didn't want to meet yours. At some point, you just assumed he didn't have any, and he just was too embarrassed to admit it.  Just like you accepted he was more of a homebody than someone who went out and about, since most of your dates were either in places with barely anyone around or in either of your houses. 

You didn't know why you didn't ask, maybe you were afraid of the answer.

That night, and after too much arguing, you finally managed to convince San on going out. The pub looked just like you remembered it: old brick walls, low golden lights, the constant hum of music and conversation thick in the air. 

"Déjà vu," you said, stepping in beside him. "This place feels... familiar. And I don't mean it because of the day you brought me here a few weeks ago."

San smiled, a little sad, a little hopeful. "It should." 

You glanced up at him, eyes narrowed. "Why?" 

He shrugged like it didn't matter. "It's just the kind of place that feels like a memory." 

You were led to the same table. Same corner. Same view of the bar. San even ordered the same drinks for you both, though you didn't notice that part. You were too busy scanning the room, trying to place this strange pull in your chest. 

"Have you been here a lot?" you asked. 

He took a sip of his beer, staring at the spot where, once upon a time, he'd stepped in to save you from a stranger's wandering hands. "A few times before" he said "and it kind of stuck with me."  

You smiled. "Because of the atmosphere?" 

He met your eyes. "Because of the person I came with." 

Your gaze faltered at the heat behind his words. You swallowed hard, suddenly shy. "She must've been special." 

"She still is."

You laughed awkwardly, not sure how to reply to that -if you were misreading the moment or if he meant exactly what your gut whispered he did. 

"Hey," you said, trying to shift the tone. "You keep saying all these mysterious, romantic things and then changing the subject. Should I be worried you're secretly married or something?" 

San grinned, but it was the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not married." 

"But?" 

"But some things are hard to explain." 

You nodded slowly, reaching for your drink. "Well... I guess I don't need everything explained. Not if it keeps feeling like this." 

He looked up sharply at that. 

"Like what?" he asked. 

You hesitated.

"Like I've done all this before," you said quietly. "With you."

And San -heart breaking and healing all at once- only whispered back:

"You have." 

But you didn't hear it. Or maybe you just didn't let yourself.

So you smiled again, tilting your glass toward his with a playful smirk. "To familiar strangers."

San clinked his glass against yours. And for a moment, everything in him screamed to tell you the truth. But instead, he just said: 

"To second chances." 

As the night went on, you had shifted in the booth beside San, your hand brushing his every now and then, and neither of you moved it away. The world felt slower tonight, like it was holding its breath around you. 

The conversation had dipped into quiet comfort when a voice sliced through it, casual and familiar: 

"San?"

He turned quickly. A tall man with honey-blond hair and a denim jacket was approaching with a grin, Mitchell. You didn't recognize him, but the smile on his face said he recognized you.

And worse, he knew you.

"Dude! I didn't know you two were back together!" Mitchell laughed as he reached them, clapping San on the shoulder before turning toward you. "Y/n, you look good! How's your head, by the way? That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

"Hey," San said sharply.

His voice was low. Controlled. But his hand gripped Mitchell's arm with a pressure that meant stop talking now. He blinked, confused.

You glanced between them, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Sorry, do I... know you?" you asked, trying to place the man's face.

Mitchell looked stunned for a beat. Then opened his mouth again to speak, but he was interrupted before he could make a sound. 

"She's not who you think," San cut in, voice firmer now. "You're probably confusing her with someone else." 

Mitchell's eyebrows shot up.

"What? San..."

San stepped closer to him, almost blocking you from view. "Drop it," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Please."

Mitchell froze.

And in that moment, something passed between them -something heavy, like grief and fear woven together. Then, after a pause too long to be casual, Mitchell gave a tight smile.

"Oh," he said finally, turning toward you. "My bad. You just... reminded me of someone. Sorry about that."

You laughed softly, but something about the exchange had stiffened your spine. "No worries. I get that a lot, apparently."

San's hand slid to the small of your back. Warm. Protective. A silent plea not to ask more.

You didn't.

Not really.

But as Mitchell waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd, you glanced up at San with a quiet curiosity in your eyes.

"Is he an old friend?"

San smiled gently, like nothing had just happened. "Yeah. Known him for a long time."

You nodded slowly. "He seemed... surprised to see us together."

There was a pause. Just for a breath.

"Guess I surprise people sometimes."

"How did he know... about the accident though?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him cautiously. 

"It's... that other person had a light accident, too. It's just a coincidence". 

A coincidence, again. 

You watched him a second longer before looking away. The conversation moved on, but the moment stayed with you. Like a thread you weren't quite ready to pull.

Actually, neither of you brought up that conversation for the rest of the night, not even when you were back in his place, like you always did with all the small details. You usually shrugged them off, swiped them off the carpet and forgot about them. But there were too many coincidences not to notice the huge bulge under the carpet in the middle of the living room. 

The room was quiet, too quiet. 

San's arm lay across your waist, his breath feathering warm against your shoulder, the rhythm steady, soothing. But your mind was anything but. 

Even in the dark, the memories -or lack of them- pulsed behind your eyes. You could feel the shadows of things just out of reach, a phantom touch on your hand before you moved. The way he smiled when he thought you weren't looking, the moments where you caught him watching you like you were something lost and he didn't know how to let go.

Your fingers grazed over the sheet as you slowly shifted his arm off your waist. He mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake.

Barefoot and quiet, you slipped out of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, arms crossing over your chest, heart pounding like a second heartbeat.

Mitchell's voice rang in your ears."That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

Another accident, where the main person also got hit on the head. 

"Back together".

And San's eyes, how fast they had darkened. How quickly he had shut it all down.

The question you'd buried for weeks finally pushed its way to the surface: Was he hiding something? Or someone?

Your stomach churned. What if he had a girlfriend he wasn't telling you about? What if this whole time, this strange intimacy you'd fallen into with him wasn't yours to fall into?

You were pacing in the dark before you realized it, your steps soundless on the cool floor. Back and forth. Breath uneven. Thoughts louder than your heart could handle. And then... thud.

You stumbled as your foot collided with something under the edge of the shelf in his living room. Bending down, your fingers found the edge of a small wooden box: worn, heavy with the kind of weight that wasn't just physical. There was something sacred about it. You shouldn't have opened it, but you did.

Inside were pieces of a life that didn't belong to you. And yet, they did.

A photo lay at the top. You, smiling in a way you'd never seen in the mirror. Your cheeks flushed, your hands cupping San's face like he was the only thing that existed. His eyes were shut in the photo, a smile tugging at his lips. Pure joy.

Your breath hitched.

Beneath it were dozens more. A photo booth strip of four blurry, laughing frames, a candid of you asleep against his shoulder, a selfie with his nose pressed to your neck, his eyes closed, and a faint lipstick mark on his cheek, you found one where your friends where also in the picture -and, by the way Yeosang was hugging San, you could tell they were close. And then, at the bottom, you found a familiar photo that made your stomach turn. You were wearing the exact same outfit of the picture he had as his lockscreen, and he was wearing the same clothes as the man in yours, same background... The only difference was that, this time, you two were together, kissing. 

You didn't remember any of them. But your heart... did. Then, tucked beneath the photos, letters.

You picked up the top one. Unfolded it with trembling fingers. It wasn't long.

You forgot me.

I smiled through it. You said "nice to meet you" like it was nothing.

It almost killed me.

But I'll wait.

I'll wait forever if it means you'll smile at me like you used to.

Your vision blurred. You blinked quickly. 

There were more. Pages of thoughts, of love, of ache. Some had dates, weeks ago. Some looked like they'd been written the day of your accident. One had a smear in the ink. A tear, maybe.

Day 9.

They said you might be able to hear me. So I'm here. Again.

I haven't left, not really. I go home to shower, sometimes. Eat if I remember. But I'm always back before sunset, just in case you wake up and wonder where I am.

I should've driven slower. I should've seen the turn. I should've...

You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me.

I replay it in my head every time I close my eyes. Your voice. The sound. The silence after.

I hold your hand and pretend you're just sleeping.

I talk to you like you'll answer.

Sometimes I pretend you do.

Everyone says to give it time. That you're strong.

But I know you're tired.

If you hear this, if anything inside you still remembers me, please, just come back.

I'll start everything over. I'll do it right this time.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Come home.

Your breath came in shallow bursts. Your knees buckled. It was like everything was turning around you the more you read. 

Day 37.

You opened your eyes today.

I should be there. God, I want to be there. But I can't. Not yet.

They told me you didn't ask for me.

That you didn't recognize anyone.

And I know it's not your fault.

I know it's the injury, the trauma, the healing.

But it felt like the last piece of me cracked open when I heard it.

How do I look at you and pretend we're strangers?

How do I sit beside you and not touch you the way I used to?

How do I call you Y/n when every part of me still aches to say baby?

I've spent weeks memorizing our history in case I had to remind you of it.

But now... I don't know if you even want to remember.

I'm scared. Not of losing you.

I'm scared you've already let me go.

Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll walk past your door and keep going.

But I'll always be waiting, just in case something in you still knows me.

The box fell from your hands as you lost the last bit of strength to keep reading, the pictures scattered at your feet like a life spilled out. 

You were the girlfriend.

You had been his.

He hadn't just found you by coincidence. He had been waiting. Recreating. Hoping.

A quiet sound behind you broke the silence. Then his voice -rough with sleep, confusion curling in its edges.

"Y/n...?"

You didn't turn around, you couldn't. Not yet. 

San stopped, reaching for the switch to turn on the lights, wishing he had never done it in the first place. All the pictures he tried to hide were around your feet, all the contents of the box were exposed. "Baby?"

Your fingers curled around the corner of a photo -your face in it, laughing so hard your eyes had shut. San had his arm around your neck, tugging you against him like he never wanted to let go. The kind of moment that couldn't be staged.

Slowly, you turned. He was halfway inside the living room, shirtless, hair tousled, his eyes going from sleepy to wide open the second he saw what you were holding.

His mouth parted. But no words came out.

And then you whispered: "...It was me."

He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at you like everything he had worked so hard to bury had been laid bare, and now, there was nowhere left to hide.

You looked down at the photo again, your fingers brushed the smile you didn't remember, but somehow still felt. 

"I was the one you were waiting for."

His throat bobbed. You were crying now, but it didn't feel heavy. It felt like truth cracking open, like light breaking in. 

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you whispered. 

San swallowed hard. And finally, he stepped forward -eyes burning, voice trembling, as he stopped right in front of you. 

"Because if I told you the truth..." he reached for your hand -hesitated- then wrapped his fingers around it, pressing it to his chest. "...I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

You didn't look at him. You couldn't. Your chest felt tight, each breath shallow and sharp.

"Why?" you asked, your voice low and sharp like a blade.

He sat up, the sheets slipping from his torso, pooling at his waist. "Y/n..."

"Why did you lie to me?"

Silence.

You finally turned, eyes wide and brimming with betrayal. "You were my boyfriend. Before the accident. Before I lost everything. You were my life, and you let me believe you were just some guy at a bar?"

San's throat bobbed as he swallowed. The guilt had already settled deep in his face.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he admitted. "I didn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me?" you repeated, voice cracking. "You didn't want to scare me, so you thought pretending none of it happened was better?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. You could see the words scrambling in his brain, but none of them made it out.

"You thought it would be better to lie to me? To manipulate me into remembering you? Not even to remember you, but to force your way back into my life" your hands were shaking now. "You robbed me of my own story, San. You made me feel crazy every time I caught something familiar in you." 

"I was terrified," he said finally. His voice broke around the edges. "You looked at me like I was no one. You smiled like we'd just met. And I... I was scared you wouldn't want to come back."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"That wasn't your decision to make," you said, each word clipped, each syllable deliberate. "You should've told me the truth. You, my friends... someone should've told me." 

"They wanted to," he said quietly. "I asked them not to."

You laughed bitterly. "Of course you did". You stopped for a second "Why don't I have anything about you in my h...?"

But you didn't need to finish the question to know that he and your friends had something to do with all of that. 

"My social media?" San just looked down at your question, knowing one of your friends also managed to delete the two years of relationship off the Internet. "Of course..."

"I didn't do it to hurt you," he rushed to explain, eyes pleading. "I just wanted to be near you. I thought if we could do it all again, if I could just feel you again, maybe you'd remember. Maybe your heart would recognize mine, even if your head didn't."

You stared at him, so many feelings surging at once it made you dizzy.

"I've been falling for you," you whispered, your voice tight. "Thinking this was new, something just beginning. I let myself believe I was starting something real with you. But it was just... a copy. Shit, San. Can't you see how fucked up all of this is?!"

He stepped forward slowly, as if afraid to shatter what little remained between you. "Y/n..."

"You let me doubt myself, San. Let me question why everything felt like déjà vu. You watched me struggle and said nothing"

He looked like he might fall apart right in front of you.

"I didn't need to be protected," you said, softer now. "I needed the truth. I needed support, help."

San's expression twisted with grief. "I didn't know how to live in a world where you didn't remember me. I didn't know how to be near you and not be yours."

"You know, there's something I remember..." your voice wavered.

He looked at you hopefully.

"And it's that you always will choose the easy path. Working with me to remember you meant patience, dealing with frustration and obstacles, while just living this lie was quick and fast. You just needed to do absolutely everything you did the first time, and it was done. You didn't give a fuck about my recovery, but about having me in your life in the way you wanted"

It crushed him. You saw it happen. You watched his shoulders fall, his chest cave.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Now all I feel is that every moment between us lately was a lie. And I don't know how to trust anything you say anymore."

He reached for you, but you stepped back. 

"Don't," you whispered.

The distance between you stretched, heavy with the things he never told you. You went back to the bedroom, and when you walked outside, you were already dressed with your bag hanging on your shoulder. 

"I need time," you said, already walking toward the door.

"Y/n..." he called after you.

But you didn't stop, and you didn't look back.

The café was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that didn't come from a lack of noise, but from something heavier. The clinking of cups, low chatter, even the hum of the espresso machine, it all faded beneath the weight of everything San hadn't said out loud in days.

He sat across from Wooyoung, shoulders hunched over a cooling cup of black coffee, staring blankly at the chipped ceramic like it held the answers he couldn't find in himself.

Wooyoung didn't speak right away. He never rushed San in moments like this. Just sat there, sipping from his own cup, watching him with that steady, quiet patience that only came from knowing someone too well.

"She's stopped talking to all of us," Wooyoung finally said, his tone low but careful. "You know that, right?"

San gave a tired nod. "Yeah."

"She won't answer my messages. She ignores Mingi. I think she even blocked Yeosang."

Another nod.

Wooyoung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You think she hates us?"

"No." San's voice was rough. "But she doesn't trust us. And I don't blame her."

Wooyoung stared at him. "She trusted you, though."

A muscle in San's jaw jumped. "Until she found out."

"She found out because she tripped over a box full of the truth," Wooyoung said, more gently this time. "Not because you told her."

San rubbed at his face, hands dragging over tired eyes. "You think I don't know that?"

"I think you do," Wooyoung said. "I just don't know if you've let yourself know it."

There was a long pause.

"She asked me once," San said quietly. "If I had a girlfriend."

Wooyoung didn't respond.

"I told her no." his voice broke a little on the word. "I was lying straight to her face, and she looked at me like I was the safest place she'd been since the accident. And I just..." he swallowed, hard, "kept pretending I didn't know what that meant."

Wooyoung looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. "You were scared."

"I was a coward," San corrected. "I thought if I could just make her fall in love with me again, I wouldn't have to tell her how much it wrecked me to lose her. But she's not stupid. She noticed everything. The bar, the photo, the letters... and then I watched it all snap together in her eyes."

Wooyoung was quiet for a moment before he asked, "What did she say?"

San's laugh was low and sharp, completely humorless. "She asked me why everyone lied. And I said... I told her I was terrified she wouldn't want to come back."

He paused. Swallowed again.

"And the worst part?" he looked up, eyes wet, voice shaking. "She didn't deny it."

Wooyoung exhaled, leaned back in his chair. "She's hurt. Give her time."

"What if time's the thing that takes her even further away from me?" San whispered. "What if every day she spends without me is a step closer to forgetting everything we were?"

Wooyoung reached across the table, gripped his wrist. "Then you wait. You wait for as long as it takes. You loved her enough to lie, fine. But now, love her enough to let her be angry, let her feel what she needs to feel. That's the only way this ends in something real."

San didn't answer. He just nodded once, slow and hollow, like his body had finally caught up to the weight his heart had been carrying all along.

Meanwhile, you weren't able to go on. 

Just after you had asked, you had all of the memories from your relationship back in your house. Although they were inside a box you didn't dare to open yet. His words were enough to haunt the silence: "I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

The worst part was... he wasn't wrong. 

You didn't dare to open the box and dig in those memories because you were scared the feelings from the past wouldn't align with the feelings you had. What if you didn't love him back then? What if your relationship wasn't good shortly before the accident? What if...? 

You stood in the kitchen barefoot, wrapped in one of his hoodies that had been on the back of a chair, too tired to care if it still smelled like him. You hated that it did. That your body leaned into it, even as your heart tried to push away.

Your phone buzzed once. His name.

You stared at the screen until it faded back to black. A few more minutes passed before you turned it off completely.

You had trusted him.

From the first moment he sat across from you at that bar, with his cocky smile and flirty banter, you had leaned into the connection like you were meant to. And it felt like fate, hadn't it? The easy rhythm, the way he knew how to make you laugh, how he always knew just when to reach out or fall quiet. But it hadn't been fate. It had been a plan. His plan. A play-by-play reenactment of a life you'd already lived, without even knowing it. You'd fallen for him thinking it was new. Thinking you were choosing him, but he'd already had you. And he didn't tell you. He couldn't risk the chance that this version of you wouldn't pick him again.

That was the ache now, the hollow pit in your chest. Not just the lie, but the feeling that he'd stolen your choice.

You pressed your forehead against the cold glass of the window, blinking past the tight sting in your eyes. The street below was quiet, golden with morning light, like the world didn't care that everything inside you had shifted. Like nothing had changed at all.

You should have felt anger. And you did. But beneath it was something deeper and more painful: grief.

Because now every memory you'd made with him -every laugh, every kiss, every moment where your heart had fluttered- was tangled with the question: Was it ever really real?

And still, your body remembered the shape of his arms, the warmth of him in the middle of the night, the softness in his voice when he whispered your name like a prayer. You'd fallen in love with him again. That part was real. And maybe that was the cruelest truth of all.

Unable to keep that pain on your own, you finally called her. Jazmin picked up on the second ring. "Y/n?"

You didn't say anything at first, just breathed, your voice caught in the place where pain sat too deep to speak.

"Are you okay?" she asked, softer now, like she already knew the answer.

"I need to talk... Can you come?"

"I'm coming."

You didn't argue. Didn't try to sound fine. You just hung up and curled into the corner of the couch, knees to your chest, staring at the ghost of yourself in the dark TV screen. The reflection of a girl who didn't know who she was anymore. Not really.

When Jazmin arrived, she didn't knock, just stepped in like she used to, like her body still remembered where the spare key was and how your apartment smelled in the morning. She looked at you, standing there in San's hoodie, eyes rimmed in red, and said nothing at all, just wrapped her arms around you. And for a second, you let it break. The dam. The wall. The composure. 

You sobbed into her shoulder, and she didn't ask questions. Not yet.

"I thought I was going crazy," you finally said when the tears had dulled to hiccups. "I kept thinking, maybe I was the other woman. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn't told me about."

Jazmin pulled away just enough to look at you, brushing your hair from your face. "You were the girlfriend. You are the girlfriend."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She hesitated. "He asked us not to. Said he wanted you to come back to him on your own. That if it wasn't real, if you didn't choose him, it would crush him."

"But what about me?" Your voice broke again. "What about what it's done to me?"

She flinched, and you hated that you made her look like that. Like this pain had spilled over into someone else's bones too. But you couldn't take it back. Couldn't shrink it.

"I needed to know the truth," you whispered. "I needed someone to tell me. Instead, I was just... living in this version of a life that had already happened. Like a puppet on strings I didn't even know were there."

"I know," she said, pulling you in again. "God, I know, Y/n. I wanted to tell you so many times. But he looked so lost. So afraid. We all thought he'd break if you didn't come back to him."

"Maybe I needed to break too," you murmured, pressing your forehead to her shoulder. "So I can figure out who I really am without everyone else deciding it for me."

Jazmin nodded. Her fingers carded gently through your hair. You stayed there, the two of you curled into a silence that felt like a bandage over an open wound. 

It had started to rain before you even realized where your feet had taken you. 

You hadn't planned on going anywhere after work, just a walk to clear your head. No destination, no headphones, just the kind of silence that city noise couldn't reach. And yet, somehow, you were standing in front of a café you didn't recognize... or at least, didn't think you did. Still, something about it felt familiar. Not in the "I've-been-here-once" kind of way, but in the way a smell can unravel a dream, or a song can feel like a memory even when you've never heard it before.

The little sign above the entrance read Moka, the white paint faded into soft gray along the edges, weathered but charming. Your fingers curled around the brass door handle before you could talk yourself out of it.

The bell chimed above your head as you stepped in.

Soft jazz drifted from speakers hidden somewhere behind the plants and bookshelves that crowded the walls. The scent of roasted beans, vanilla, and something faintly citrusy wrapped around you like a warm coat. It felt like stepping into someone's living room, like a place where stories had been left behind, carefully folded into the creases of napkins and coffee sleeves.

You let your eyes scan the space and saw it: the corner booth near the window with the chipped table and the crooked lamp above it.

It called to you.

You didn't know why you sat down. You just... did.

You took a breath, your fingertips tracing over the wood. A divot near the corner snagged your nail, like muscle memory. You pulled your hand back.

A minute later, the bell above the door chimed again. You glanced up casually, and froze.

San.

He stepped inside, brushing rain off his shoulders, his hair damp and sticking slightly to his forehead. He looked like he hadn't expected the weather to turn on him so suddenly. He looked like he hadn't expected you, either.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Then his eyes widened, and yours did the same.

"I didn't know you came here," you said, unsure why that was the first thing that came out.

He blinked, stepping in further. "I didn't think you even knew this place."

"I didn't," you replied. "I was just walking and... I don't know. My legs brought me here."

He gave a small, breathless laugh. Not mocking, just stunned. "Yeah. That... that sounds about right."

You both hesitated, hovering in two different worlds that used to be the same one. Then, without asking, he crossed the room and sat across from you. You didn't stop him.

You ordered two coffees, as if your hands remembered what your head didn't. Yours with oat milk and cinnamon. His, black with one sugar. You didn't realize what you'd done until the waitress left and San looked at you like he'd been struck.

"What?" you asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just... you remembered."

You frowned. "I didn't. I guessed."

He didn't argue. Just gave a tired, tender smile and murmured, "Good guess."

The silence stretched between you. Not tense, exactly. Just... full. Like everything you hadn't said was sitting in the space between your cups, waiting for the right moment to rise.

You looked at him carefully. His eyes were heavier than you remembered. The curve of his mouth pulled more at the corners now, like he smiled less often. There were shadows beneath the tattoos on his arm, and tension in the way he gripped the edge of the table.

You stirred your coffee even though it didn't need stirring. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He stared at the chipped edge of the table. "Because I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of ruining everything," he said. "Of trying to hold on to something that wasn't mine anymore. I kept thinking: what if you remembered and didn't want it? What if you didn't remember and I pushed too hard and it felt like I was trying to trap you in something you couldn't feel?"

Your heart twisted. "That doesn't make what you did okay."

"I know," he said instantly. "I know that. I lied to you. I took away your choice. I tried to rewrite something instead of... letting you read it again. On your own."

You watched him closely. There was no act. No polished version of himself. Just the raw, tired ache of someone who had held his breath for too long.

"And the accident?"

His eyes flicked to yours, and something flickered through them, shame, mostly. Pain.

"We were fighting. Some months ago, you started thinking of publishing the comics you had been working on, but I wasn't... supportive enough. I said they were a cute side thing, and it all blew after that" he said. "I... we started arguing, we weren't listening to each other, and the fight seemed to keep getting worse. It was raining. I slipped off the curb and..." he exhaled sharply, voice breaking. "The car didn't stop in time, I crashed against a tree, and you were the one who received the worse end"

You swallowed. "And after that?"

"I came to see you," he whispered. "Every day. For weeks. I sat beside you, read to you, talked to you even though you couldn't hear me. I brought you the cactus from your studio. I..."

You looked away, eyes stinging. "But when I woke up..."

"I stopped coming," he said, his voice barely audible now. "Because I thought... it would hurt less to disappear than to watch you forget me."

The words settled between you like ash.

"I didn't forget you," you whispered. "Not really. You were everywhere. In things I didn't understand. The way I reacted to you. The way I looked for you even when I was mad at you."

He watched you like you were saving him and tearing him apart at the same time. You exhaled, slow and unsteady. "You weren't a stranger, San. Not really. I didn't know why, but I kept choosing you anyway."

His lips parted, but no sound came out. Just a breath. Just gratitude.

The rain outside began to lighten, softening into a misty hush. Inside the café, the world had folded in around you: warm, quiet, intimate. Like the past and present were finally speaking to each other in the same room.

"Let me take you home," he said gently.

You didn't respond right away. You just nodded, slowly, carefully, like your body was making a decision your mind still hadn't caught up to.

He opened the door for you, and the wind brushed past you both. For a moment, you stood under the awning, watching the city blur behind rain. And then you turned to him and said, "You'll answer everything, right? If I ask?"

He looked you dead in the eye. "Anything. Everything."

And for the first time in a long time, when you both stepped into the rain and toward his car, it didn't feel like running. It felt like returning.

"What were we like... before the accident?"

He didn't answer right away.

You watched the side of his face, the soft twitch of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed locked on the road a second too long, like he was organizing memories in a drawer he hadn't opened in a while.

Then, slowly, he reached toward the glove compartment and pulled out a small leather-bound notebook, its corners frayed from use. He held it out to you without a word.

You looked down at it, frowning as you took it in your hands. The leather was warm, familiar. There was a tiny sketch of a cat doodled in the corner of the cover. Your sketch. You flipped through the pages.

Your handwriting.

Your drawings.

Short, messy notes written in blue pen. Dialogue bubbles. Storyboards. Scenes about a couple waking up late, arguing over grocery lists, dancing in the kitchen in their socks. Pages where the girl looked suspiciously like you, and the boy... well.

"Is this mine?" you asked.

He nodded. "You were working on it all the time. You said you wanted to make a comic about a normal couple. No drama, no perfect endings, just real life. Ours."

You flipped through the pages, stunned. You had no memory of drawing these, but the style was undeniably yours. Every detail made your chest ache with something you didn't know how to name.

"I don't remember any of this."

"I know," he said softly. "But you loved this project. You were going to publish it. You even had a name for it."

You looked at the front page. In your own messy cursive: "Monday Mornings."

A breath caught in your throat. You didn't even know why, but that title felt like something you'd once whispered in someone's ear, laughing under the covers.

"I didn't support you enough," San said suddenly, voice low and raw. "You wanted to take it public. You had this pitch ready, you were so excited. And I... I said we should wait. That, maybe, it wasn't the right time. I thought I was protecting you. I didn't realize I was just making you feel small."

You didn't answer, you just kept turning the pages.

A drawing caught your eye: the girl kissing the boy's shoulder while he made coffee. A heart drawn above them. Underneath, you'd scrawled:

"You always said mornings were cruel. So I made us soft."

Your fingers trembled.

"You said something before the accident," San continued quietly. "You said, 'Why does it feel like you're always patting my head instead of holding my hand?'"

You looked out the window. The trees blurred past in green shadows. Your heart thudded somewhere in your stomach.

"I never forgot that," he said. "I never stopped hearing it."

You closed the notebook and held it close to your chest.

He glanced at you, uncertain. "Are you okay?"

You nodded. But you didn't feel okay. You felt like you were standing at the edge of a memory that had just started to turn around and look at you.

The days blurred.

Not in the romantic way people talked about when they were in love, not in the way that made time feel like honey or sunsets. No, those days blurred like ink in water, like memory diluted until it left only a pale ghost of what used to be.

You tried. 

God, you tried. 

You woke up each day with hope clawing its way up your throat, searching the mirror for a spark, a flicker, something familiar in your own reflection. And sometimes, there were moments. A smell, a certain playlist, the way San's fingers traced lazy circles against your wrist when he thought you weren't paying attention. Sometimes it hit you like déjà vu, but soft, like the memory itself was holding its breath.

Other times, though, it felt like you were pretending to live someone else's life. Walking through a home filled with photos you couldn't remember taking, laughing at inside jokes you didn't really get, wanting to reach for San, only to stop midway, unsure if the heat in your chest was real... or borrowed from a version of you who no longer existed.

San didn't push. Not in words, anyway.

But sometimes you felt the weight of his gaze. Quiet desperation woven between the lines of his patience. And that's when it got hard. When it hurt the most, when you felt like you were failing both him and yourself.

That morning, you'd had another flash.

You had opened a kitchen drawer, reaching for a spoon, and your hand landed on a small, yellow plastic ring. The kind you get from a vending machine. For some reason, your breath caught. You had no idea why, but your fingers trembled.

You sat on the floor and cried.

San had found you there, and he didn't ask questions. He just sat beside you and held you close until your breathing slowed.

But he didn't say anything, either. And that was almost worse.

You both had grown used to that type of scene, where you just broke down and he held you until he made sure you were breathing properly again. 

Now, in the car, your fingers fidgeted in your lap. "I hate this."

He blinked. "Hate what?"

"This... in-between. Not remembering. Remembering too much. Never enough. It's like I'm stuck between two mirrors, and I keep seeing myself, but never fully."

He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm trying," you added, barely a whisper.

"I know you are," he said. 

Silence again. Just the tires splashing over wet asphalt.

"But it's hard," you admitted, voice cracking. "It's hard needing space from someone who makes you feel safe. It's hard needing time from someone who clearly never stopped loving you."

He didn't answer right away. Just exhaled, slow and careful. "Do you know how many times I've almost told you everything again? How many times have I looked at you and wanted to say 'Just come back'? But I couldn't. Because if I pushed too hard, I'd lose you all over again."

"Sometimes it feels like you expect me to be her again. That girl I was."

"I don't," he said quickly, sharply. "I just miss her. That's different."

"Is it?" you asked. "Because it doesn't feel different when I look into your eyes and all I see is disappointment every time I get something wrong."

"I'm not disappointed in you..."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped. "Every time I forget something, you look away. Every time I hesitate, you sigh like it's breaking your heart."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Because it is. But that's not your fault" his jaw flexed. "I know it's hard, but I never said you had to be her, that version of you. I love you. Now. Not just the version of you I lost."

You laughed bitterly. "But it's not that simple. You can say that all you want, San, but I see it. I see you looking for her in me. In every little gesture. Every place we go. You're always chasing the past. And I'm scared I can't give it back to you."

The air in the car turned cold.

He stared at the road, eyes dark. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you look at me like I'm a stranger, when I know what your laugh sounds like when you do something you like? When I still hear your voice every night in my head, begging me not to let you go?"

That silenced you.

His voice cracked. "I would give anything to forget how you used to love me, because maybe then, this wouldn't feel like being stabbed in the same place over and over."

You turned to him slowly. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His shoulders were tight with things he wasn't saying.

You stared at him. "I don't know who I am anymore. What if there's nothing to go back to?"

The words cut deep. You hadn't meant for them to come out like that. But now they hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.

His jaw tensed. "So what, Y/n? You want me to let go? To pretend none of it ever happened?"

You pressed your lips together, looking away again, knowing there was something cooking in his brain before he happened again. 

"I'm not some villain in your story. And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing you, but..." he stopped for a few seconds, getting some air back in his lungs "I'm trying to love someone who doesn't remember loving me. Do you know how hard that is? To have all these memories, all this history, and none of it matters unless you feel it too?" he took another deep breath, gulping down the knot in his throat. "But I'm not letting you go, I won't give up and I won't let you give up, because I'll be on every fucking step of the way. And if you don't remember me, then fuck it. We'll make new memories together that will be just as meaningful. But I'm not giving up on you, Y/n. I refuse to".

You hesitated, but you were thinking of the best answer to that. And just as you were ready to turn to him to speak again. It happened. 

CRASH.

The sudden screech was the only noise in your ears for a few seconds, the blur of headlights the only thing you could see. 

Your body snapped forward, seatbelt biting into your chest. San's arm instinctively flung in front of you, shielding, even as the car spun once and thudded to a stop against the guardrail.

Silence.

Rain tapped against the cracked windshield. 

You gasped, chest heaving, eyes wide as your hands scrambled to reach him.

"San..."

"I'm okay," he croaked, already undoing his seatbelt. "Are you hurt? Look at me, are you okay?"

Your lips trembled, but you nodded. 

He exhaled in shaky relief. His forehead had a small gash, bleeding into his eyebrow, but he was alert. Breathing.

"I'm fine," you whispered, touching his face. "You... you're bleeding."

He gave a strained laugh. "You should see the other guy."

You let out a sob that was half a laugh, half terror. Outside, the driver of the other car was already stepping out, waving, checking his own vehicle. No one was badly hurt. It was a scrape, a scare, not a tragedy.

But to you, it felt like an echo. Like lightning returning to the same scar in the ground. Your fingers trembled as you unbuckled your seatbelt. San looked at you, and for a second, neither of you moved.

 "God, I thought..."

Your fingers trembled against his jacket, clutching him like you might lose him again. And maybe it was nothing. Just a fender-bender, but something inside you had shifted. A pressure in your chest, the sound of his voice, the flash of memory, your fingers curled around his wrist, and for a split second, you remembered.

A birthday.

Candles.

His laugh in the dark.

His hand brushing your cheek.

A yellow plastic ring.

It was small, barely a second, but it hit you so hard you flinched.

San caught the look in your eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, still breathless.

You shook your head slowly. "I... I think I remembered something."

He paused.

You closed your eyes.

"I think... you asked me to marry you once."

San's heart stopped. And then he smiled. A fragile, aching smile, like something inside him had cracked open.

"You said no," he whispered. "And then you made me ask again with a yellow plastic ring."

Your hand trembled over your heart. The ring in the drawer, the one that made you cry without knowing why.

You looked at him again, really looked, and for the first time, he didn't feel like a stranger.

After a few months, spring returned to the city in full bloom -and so, in your own way, did you.

After the second accident, everything shifted.

You didn't lose any more memories that night. If anything, something inside you cracked open, like a door that had always been there, waiting to be found. After that, you worked harder than ever. Not just because you wanted your memory back, but because he never stopped fighting for you, even when you didn't feel like the same person he loved.

You dove into it: the photographs, the journals, the smell of his cologne on your pillow, the comic sketches you once hid inside an old shoe box. The coffee shop, the places you used to go, the food he said you hated, but you found yourself ordering just to see.

Little by little, pieces returned.

Not all of them. You still forgot some dates. You still couldn't remember why Hongjoong always called you "Captain," or what made Yeosang cry-laugh the first time you met. But the important things? You held onto those with everything you had.

You remembered how San's hand fit at the small of your back, the way he used to hum when he thought you were asleep, the soft way he'd whisper your name when he was half-asleep and needed to make sure you were still there.

And now, months later, you were there.

The bar buzzed with warmth and celebration, full of your friends, full of light. Outside, fairy lights glittered across the rooftop. Someone had already smashed the cake. There was a karaoke battle happening in the corner. Seonghwa had taken over the music, and Wooyoung was trying to get everyone to pose under a banner that said you were celebrating the publication of your comics.

Your first printed volume. A comic book. A real one.

And even though you smiled at everyone and thanked them with full sincerity, there was only one person you were truly looking for in the crowd.

You spotted him on the couch near the edge of the room, nursing a drink. White shirt, rolled sleeves, his chain catching the light. He looked impossibly soft in the chaos, like a quiet moment wrapped in a person.

He was watching you, eyes half-lidded, that little smirk on his lips he didn't even realize he had when he looked at you.

You didn't overthink it. You just walked across the room, climbed right into his lap like you'd done a hundred times before, and leaned in close, so close your breath hit his ear. "Don't think I forgot the first night you let me draw you naked."

He choked.

You could feel the sharp inhale beneath your palms as his hands gripped your waist, stunned. "What... what did you just say?"

You pulled back slowly, watching his face twist with disbelief.

"Bedroom floor," you said. "You were freezing but you wouldn't move until I got the curve of your shoulder right. You were so dramatic."

His eyes filled with something raw.

"No one else knew that," he said hoarsely. 

You shrugged softly, nose brushing his. "I told you I'd come back to you. I'm not all the way there yet, but I'm close. I feel it."

He stared at you like you were the answer to every prayer he'd never spoken out loud. Like you were a miracle wearing your own skin.

And then he kissed you.

There, in the middle of the rooftop, with music in the background and your friends around you and the stars blinking quietly above, he kissed you like the world had finally come back into focus.

"You remembered the sketch," he whispered against your mouth.

You smiled. "I remembered you."

And as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if afraid to blink, you knew one thing for sure:

You weren't just returning to your old self, you were becoming more, you were rewriting everything with love in your hands.

The apartment was quiet, washed in golden lamplight and the soft shuffle of sheets.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, sketchbook in your lap, pencil smudged between your fingers. San lay beside you, one arm bent under his head, the other lazily tracing patterns along your thigh, like he couldn't stand to stop touching you, even for a second.

"Is that me again?" he asked, voice low and a little sleepy.

You smiled, not looking up. "No. It's us."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to peek. The page showed a messy panel -your typical style- drawn in soft graphite. Two figures sitting in bed, one sketching, one watching. Simple. Intimate. 

"I look good," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true." he leaned in, brushing his lips over your shoulder. "But also... because you draw me the way you see me. And that version of me? That's my favorite."

You paused, pencil hovering mid-air.

Then, quietly: "I think I'm happy again."

His smile faded into something softer. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Not just because I remember things now. But because I feel like myself again. Like... we're back. But not just back... better."

San turned onto his side, pulling you into his arms until your cheek rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.

"You know," he whispered, "you could forget everything all over again, and I'd still find my way back to you."

You pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. "You don't have to."

"I know." he kissed your forehead. "But I would."

The sketchbook slipped from your lap, forgotten. The city murmured outside the windows, but inside -here, in this room, in his arms- you had everything you needed.

You curled into him, your breathing syncing with his. And as the night folded around you like a favorite page in a well-loved book, you knew you'd never forget this feeling again.

Home.

Him.

It was late evening, and your phone buzzed with a message from Junghoon, your boyfriend. You met a few years ago. It was like the first scene of the couple in a romantic movie, with your hands brushing momentarily as you both went to pick up the same thing in the supermarket. You could almost say it was instant, just one look and a bit of conversation, and you both knew neither wanted to move away from each other.

Everything was perfect, except for his brother, Jungkook. They were almost identical, except for the tattoos on Junghoon's arm that covered his full sleeve, which his brother didn't have. Same with their piercings. Jungkook only had a few on his ears, while Junghoon also had two on his lips.

The differences weren't only physical:

Junghoon was always the responsible one, the kind of person who double-checked plans and took pride in being dependable. He had a steady, grounded energy that made you feel safe. You loved that about him. He was attentive, but not overly sentimental, he showed his care through actions, not words. Although, lately, that side of him was also fading.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He thrived on chaos, living in the moment without thinking of consequences. He'd always been a wildcard, the kind of guy who could light up a room but also burn it down. And the kind of guy who would constantly get Junghoon in trouble constantly when they were still close.

You remembered the tension between them vividly: Junghoon often vented about Jungkook's reckless choices, saying things like, "He thinks life's a game, but it's not. One day, he's going to go too far." Jungkook would retaliate with sarcastic remarks, mocking Junghoon for being too uptight.

Their arguments weren't just sibling spats, they were deep, filled with years of unresolved jealousy and blame. It made it easy for you to tell them apart, not just in personality but even in how they carried themselves. Junghoon's calm demeanor was worlds away from Jungkook's restless energy, which always ended up with your boyfriend also being dragged in whatever problem he was in.

You sighed when reading your boyfriend's text. He had been away all weekend, he actually canceled plans with you at the last minute on Friday, which you simply shrugged off, because it wasn't the first time it happened. He always had a last minute conference for his book, a last minute presentation or interview he couldn't place.

Junghoon: What are you doing?

Y/n: I'm coming back home... Where are you?

Junghoon: I went to the gym

Y/n: You? To the gym? You hate it...

Junghoon: Yup. Thought it'd be time to give it a chance

You simply rolled your eyes, leaving your small bag at the passenger's side of your car, your lip trapped under your teeth as you looked at the screen.

Junghoon: Do you want to do something now?

Y/n: Like what?

Junghoon: Prepare some blankets and some snacks, we're cuddling until dinner time.

You were confused, but you weren't going to oppose him. You actually liked the idea of doing something together after so long.

Junghoon: I'm on my way

Y/n: Okay. I'm shopping, but I'll be there in 10. Use your keys if early

Jungkook smiled at the text looking back at him, his smirk widening at the idea of seeing you after so long, for the first time in Junghoon's skin. He had always seen you from afar, always hooked on his brother's arm, but that night things would be different.

Even if it took him erasing Junghoon from the equation and taking his place, Jungkook would be finally able to be right where he belonged: right next to you.

His heartbeat kept beating faster as he approached your building... And a question popped up: would you be able to tell he wasn't Junghoon? Or would he be able to play your boyfriend so well that you wouldn't notice?

After he parked the motorbike, he played with the keys in his hand, the item tingling in his fingers as he looked at the mailbox to confirm which one was your door.

The house was a reflection of you: warm and orderly, with small imperfections that spoke of a life lived rather than curated. He exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in his fingers. That wasn't the first step; that had been weeks ago. But this was the moment he crossed the line, fully stepping into Junghoon's life. Into your life. Officially adopting an identity and a personality that didn't belong to him only so he'd be able to be with you.

"Love?" his voice sounded a bit deeper than usual when calling for you.

After not hearing from you after a few seconds, he assumed you didn't arrive yet and closed the door behind him. His helmet rested on the backrest of your couch as he planned on walking around. You didn't have many details in the living room, but it was obvious on the small frames placed on the shelves on both sides of your TV that you liked to make it known that house was yours. Guilt and worry held onto his chest as his eyes fell on a picture you had with Junghoon, then to a new one.

And he wondered... was he going to be able to play the perfect boyfriend his brother always was?

Before he could think any deeply about it, the door clicked behind him, and he suddenly turned to see you. Your small frame was bent more towards one side than the other, because the weight of the bags you were carrying in one hand was too heavy.

Jungkook walked to you before you could open your mouth, his hands brushing against yours and forcing him to ignore the electricity to act as normal as he could.

"Thank you, love" you whispered, closing the door.

His walk was intuitive, thanking himself for being early and taking a look around your place to know where things were. Your tracks stopped when you spotted the helmet, ignoring the rustle from the bags in the kitchen.

"What's with the helmet?" you asked confused.

For a moment, he didn't respond, his face unreadable. Then he laughed, a little too quickly, a little too loud. "Oh, that? It's not mine. It's... a friend's. He brought me on his motorbike. I've been meaning to return it."

You frowned. "A friend's?"

He shrugged, still moving inside the kitchen, knowing his lie would be caught as soon as you looked him in the eye. "Yeah, someone I met at the gym" he said, mentioning it like it was no big deal.

And it wouldn't be... if it weren't because his brother wasn't the perfect boyfriend he always showed off to be.

He assumed you'd already know everyone in Junghoon's workplace and his group of friends, adding someone in the picture from a background you didn't know of was a quick way of escaping, without any more questions.

You nodded slowly, still trying to process the oddness of it all. You didn't want to be paranoid. Hell, you promised you left behind all of your insecurities and doubts after what happened, but you couldn't help but let all of those feelings come back at you again with Junghoon's strange behavior that night. Showing up in the middle of the night, so eager to see you, with that same nervousness... It almost felt like a throwback to...

You shook your head, trying to erase those thoughts.

"Do I know this friend?" you asked, half-joking, trying to shake the strange feeling gnawing at your stomach.

He paused, the rustle of bags suddenly stopping. "I don't think so," he said lightly. "I told you it was someone from the gym."

The answer should have satisfied you, but it didn't. Something about the way he avoided any type of honesty when he spoke made your chest tighten. You didn't push further, though. You told yourself it was nothing -Junghoon was just tired. Maybe he really had changed, even in small ways. People did, right?

The rustle of the bags came back as you started making your way to the kitchen, his wide back completely eclipsing whatever he was doing on the counter. "Come on," he said, flashing you that familiar smile over his shoulder, "I'll let you pick a movie to watch until it's time for dinner."

You returned his smile, letting yourself be pulled into the comfort of the moment. Although it lasted just a short moment, because your teeth trapped your lower lip before you could even control yourself.

"Babe" you called him, getting his attention. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean..." you readjusted yourself in the kitchen, resting against the wall, shifting your position so you'd be able to look at him "There's no secrets between us".

Jungkook hesitated, knowing what your gaze meant. Yet, at the same time, he knew that look wasn't because you were suspicious of his fake personality. It was something else he couldn't decipher, but it made his heart shrink with a guilt he wasn't the owner of.

"I do have something to tell you" he finally said.

As much as you'd have loved to be relieved by that sentence, it made your pulse quicken. Because last time it started the exact same way.

"The helmet" he said, trying to control himself by redirecting his thoughts on the conversation "is mine. I didn't want to tell you, because it was going to be a surprise, but I'm a mess and ruined it. I've been studying to get the license" he finally admitted. "I bought a motorbike recently..."

"You did what?" you frowned. "That's..." definitely better than everything you had imagined. "Oh god, that's great" you smiled widely. "The amount of things we'll be able to do, and all the places we'll go".

Jungkook's heart fluttered at the way your expression changed, opening the door to an excited rambling with several ideas you were clearly already thinking of.

"You liked the surprise, baby?"

"Yes, yes" you nodded repeatedly. "You kept it to yourself so well, I wouldn't have seen it coming at all".

"Yeah... I thought it'd be better for all the plans I want to do with you, hmm? We could go on a small trip during your holidays, I could pick you up from work..."

"I... You didn't even hint at it. You're usually so bad at keeping secrets" you sighed, relieved at what he was keeping from you.

"It was a surprise worth of keeping from you"

"I'm happy though" you smiled at him, started to take out all the groceries you bought. "I'm happy you finally got a license. I would have rathered it to be a car, you know, it's safer. But it's great" to prolong the comfort and happiness, you turned to him with a smile, finding him supporting himself on the doorframe "It's really great" you nodded again. "You know what?"

"What, baby?"

"I bought you your favorite dessert"

He tried to hide the surprise and confusion, knowing damn well you're referring to Junghoon's. Trying to keep himself from messing it up, he opted for a neutral answer: "You're spoiling me, baby".

As he watched you pacing around the kitchen, putting all the things perfectly in the drawers, he couldn't help but notice how you seemed comfortable in his presence, unaware that he wasn't your boyfriend, a little too happy with the domestic aura it all gave. For one second, he could only feel guilty of not doing what he did earlier.

"You're not going to ask why I showed up unannounced?" he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. But at the same time, the feeling of having you in his arms was exhilarating.

"Why?" you asked softly, leaning into his body.

"I missed you" he murmured in your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

His eyes shut close when your fingers moved up to his hair, enjoying the feeling. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, making him crave more. Instinctively his body against yours, his lips finding their way to your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin.

"I love you" he subconsciously said, with his lips attached to your scent while his hands roamed through your curves.

"Baby" you puckered your lips, touched by his words "I love you, too".

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and trying to commit it to memory, while his fingers ran through it, gently massaging your scalp as you stood there in your kitchen.

He slid his hands underneath your shirt, caressing your bare skin, making you hum at how warm he surprisingly felt. "You're so warm" you mumbled, snuggling closer.

"You feel so nice and soft in my arms" one of his hands made its way down to your thigh. "Hmm, the best" he gave your thigh a light squeeze and then slowly ran his fingers up and down the outside, moving his digits until they brushed against the hem of the fabric of your t-shirt.

"I'm glad you came" you confessed with a soft whisper.

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck "Why wouldn't I be here doing what I love the most?"

"Well... You always say your job is so important".

Junghoon loved you, you knew he did, but he also found a million other things more important than you, and he didn't hesitate to remind you. Now, having him behind you, his chest stuck to your back as he hugged you tight when he was supposed to be at work, you felt a warmth in your heart you hadn't felt in a long while.

"Of course it is, but you're even more important to me" he chuckled at your action, loving the way you tried to fit against his body.

You were tired of the amount of times you'd heard that same sentence on him, only to be paid dust all the time. But, somehow, those words felt so genuine that night...

"From now on, I promise I'll focus on you only. I promise" he whispered, with his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I'm glad our arguments finally got some sense for you" you joked, although you weren't really joking.

For one second, Jungkook wondered how his brother could even think of believing anything was more important than being with you in his arms. How could Junghoon ever think of not putting you in first place?

"You don't know how much I hated those arguments, baby" he looked into your eyes when you turned your face, his gaze and tone both growing somber at the mention.

"Me, too. I hate being mad at you" you kissed his lips.

"Being mad at you was like torture. Those fights felt like hell" slowly, he made you turn on your feet, the feeling of you in his arms already making him feel better.

"What comes after those fights is worth it though" you smirked, hiding your face on his neck.

Jungkook chuckled, endeared by the way you hid how your cheeks turned a lighter shade of pink "Yeah, my clingy baby gets even clingier after our fights" he grinned and his hand rubbed up and down your thigh.

There was something about his touch, his words... or the way he was holding you like he actually wanted you that kept you pushing for more. You started kissing his cheek, but quickly moved down his jaw and throat, feeling him gulp thick under your lips.

"Mmm, baby, that feels nice" he tilted his head to the side to give you even better access to his neck.

You moved back up, your lips rubbing against his. "You like that?"

He brought his hands up to the sides of your face and pulled you closer, his lips hovering over yours, wondering if that was always how you made things up.

"Hmm" he nodded " And I think you're so cute"

He gave your nose a small kiss before kissing your lips softly, gently pulling on your lower lip with his. With every second, he deepened the kiss, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth, pulling and playing with yours. Your fingers sank deeper in his hair, flicking your tongue on his while your hands started moving down his torso. A low hum and a moan escaped his lips as he felt your fingers move, his hands sliding up and down your thighs before eventually gripping your hips. A gasp broke the kiss when you felt his hands on your hips, pressing you a bit harder against his crotch, and as you started to rock your hips against him, you felt that need for him starting to build up.

His teeth crushed on your neck, sucking at the skin to give you a mark as his hips continued to move against yours. His hands traveled down the back of your thighs, digging into your flesh as he started rolling your hips against him, slowly getting addicted to the way you felt against him. He didn't think twice, lifting your body so you were sitting on the counter.

He was left confused when you sat straight in front of him, although your smirk calmed him down almost immediately. His pulse raced up when you started taking your shirt off, his eyes falling down to your chest. His hands moved through your smooth soft skin, traveling up your sides, while his eyes shined as if that was the first time he saw you that way.

You didn't give him time to think, because you bent over to kiss him before he could. His hands were placed on either side of your neck, pulling you back down to his lips, the kiss immediately growing more and more hungry, his tongue immediately seeking access to your mouth again.

"Babe" you whispered against his lips, "what do you want?"

"You, I only want you"

"I'm all yours"

A smirk played on his lips as he heard the words fall so freely from your lips, your eagerness only fueling his hunger for you. The fact that he thought he'd never hear those words from you, and even less dedicated to him, made his head spin. His hands slide up your sides and then down again, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of your pants as he looked into your eyes

"Is that so? You're all mine and mine only?"

"Only yours" you whispered.

You didn't care about how many times you needed to confirm that, because that was the truth.

"Good girl" he groaned, those two words, so simple yet impactful, made your blood run faster through your veins.

He tugged on your pants, signaling for you to lift your hips up a bit so he could take them off, and you helped, supporting your hands on his shoulders to give him enough space to get you naked.

As his eyes traced a silent path through your body, you couldn't help but tilt your head. "Liking what you see?" your hands moved up through his shirt.

His answer, forward yet nervous, came up as if it was the most obvious answer "Shit, I love it"

You didn't need to speak for your boyfriend to help you take off his t-shirt, it was enough with the way you kept moving the black fabric up for him to follow your silent command and do as you wanted, his abs slightly flexing as you exposed him.

"When did you get so bulked up?" you curiously asked when you spotted the difference.

It was then when you realized the big toll routine had on you and your relationship, how you barely noticed the change in his body despite seeing each other almost every day.

"I've been working out a lot lately" he said, smiling nervously, watching your fingers run over his arms.

You could almost hear the pride in his tone as you touched his muscles.

Again, a pang of sadness showed up again across your brain as you realized how long it had been since you were that intimate with your boyfriend. You didn't even notice how toned he was becoming, you didn't even notice the progress as it was happening.

"I see" you chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his neck when you saw him placing himself between your legs.

He hummed and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, his hands immediately going to your hips, gripping them and pulling you closer to him, his face in line with your neck. He nuzzled your throat, showering the skin there with light kisses.

His lips moved up to your jawline, placing small, slow kisses up your jaw, his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you even closer, until your hips are rubbing against his again. The mere touching having you whispering in between kisses how bad you craved him, while his hands tightened their grip on your thighs at your words, your desire for him only fueling the lust and hunger for you inside him.

He attached his lips to your neck once more, gently sucking and biting the skin there while his hips rolled up as you grinded against him. The only thing that could ever stop him from devouring you was yourself, and that was exactly what happened.

He let out a soft hum as you touched his back, his hips rolling up against you again at the soft feeling of your fingers. When your digits hit his belt, a smirk played on his lips. "Do you want it off, baby?"

You nodded and you could feel his grip on your thighs loosening to give you space to move in front of him, able to drag your body down his from the counter. He watched you in awe, the movement already sending a wave of excitement through him. When looking down at you, his eyes took in every inch of your bare skin while he undid his belt buckle.

A thick groan left his lips when you played him while undressing him, your fingers barely touching his skin when taking off his dark jeans, earning him calling you a tease with a groan. Your boyfriend didn't hold back, holding your thighs to put you back against his body, the sudden move surprising you, but not letting you back off from teasing him "Yes, I'm a tease, and? You love it".

"Hmm yeah, I do. But I also love you being a good girl"

A smirk immediately plays on his lips as you weren't able to control your legs from pressing together. His hands moved down your body, caressing your bare skin. "Oh? Does someone like being called a good girl?"

It was something... new. It wasn't the type of chat you had while having sex.

He lifted your body once more, making you wrap your legs around him so you'd be steadily placed.

"Grind against me" he said in a deep tone, his hands gripping the small of your back more firmly, wanting to feel you closer.

You positioned yourself correctly enough to do what you were told, your hips almost meeting his, you could feel his hardened bulge, yet you didn't move an inch. "You want this?" you moved your hips down, rolling them for one second before moving them back up.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience even at the feeling of you rolling your hips for a second, his own self-control slowly slipping out of his grasp. He gripped your hips harder, wanting to feel you against him even more "Yeah, I want this. I want you. So move against me and be a good girl for me, baby"

Clearly, you weren't going to make it so easy for him.

You bit your lip, bending over until your lips were almost touching his ear "Use the right words".

He shivered involuntarily at your whispered sentence, your breath in his ear sending another wave of excitement through him, the need to be with you growing stronger "Please, baby. Let me feel you, just move against me. You know I'm a patient man, but this is making me lose my damn mind"

"So this" you grind your hips down, moving them back up again "is making you lose your head?"

He let out a low, almost guttural groan at the slow, calculated move of your hips, the friction created by your movements driving him insane "Yeah, you're making me lose my damn mind, baby. You know what you do to me".

You licked his upper lip, your hand holding his chin before you rolled your hips back down against his.

He moaned in consequence, feeling the way you rolled your hips again, his own hips involuntarily bucking up against yours. "Baby... that's it, just keep going like that. Just a little bit more" he held back the urge to take control of your body and just take you right there, trying to keep a bit of my composure.

Although that composure didn't last long, just enough for him to take you to your bedroom.

You didn't know how or when you ended up underneath him, his body trapping yours against the mattress while his lips ghosted over yours "We're done playing now" he assured you. The air was caught in your throat when he brushed his lips against your throat. "I fucking love the way you're all mine" he groaned. "Mine only, hmm? I'll destroy whoever tries to get between us".

You gulped thick when you heard him saying that, unsure if it was just the pleasure ruling him... because he was looking deadly serious.

"What?" he called you "You like knowing that you're all mine and mine alone? You like hearing how I'll do anything to keep you all to myself?"

In three years of relationship, it was the first time you heard Junghoon being so possessive of you. Yet you didn't hate it. Not at all.

He crawled on top of you, his body trapping you beneath him. His fingers skillfully undid the clasp of your bra with a swift motion as soon as his fingertips found it. Your back arched with need as you felt the fabric caressing your skin before disappearing, and it kept folding as his lips started making their way down your body. He paused for a moment to look up at you, his eyes darkened for all the right and wrong reasons as he admired the invisible path he made from your chest to the edge of your underwear.

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching for a hint of suspicion or doubt, for any sign that could make him back down. But he found none, only desire and trust. His fingers hooked into your underwear and pulled them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he got you naked in front of him.

Jungkook moved back up your body, his hands trailing up your thighs as he went. He positioned himself between your legs, his lips finding your collarbone again, leaving a mark that would be difficult to hide, while his heart pounded hysterically against his chest. His desire for you and the guilt of his identity waging a silent war inside him.

But he chose to silent them.

He lifted your leg over his hip, pulling you even closer to him. His body pressed against yours, and the last remaining layers of fabric between you felt like an unbearable barrier. He nipped at your earlobe, his voice a low, demanding whisper "I fucking need you so bad".

"I need you, too"

The way your words echoed his, the way you sounded so out of breath... It all kept clouding his judgement. He knew those words were dedicated to someone else, he knew your body was craving Junghoon, but the thought of his touch exciting you like that only made him growl deep in his throat.

His lips reached the apex of your thighs as he started moving down, pausing for a moment as he looked up at you. Your face was flushed with desire, your eyes darkened with need. He took a moment to memorize the sight before he gave in completely to his desires. Giving you one last look, he bent enough to sink his mouth sensually among your folds, the contact making you hum in pleasure almost instantly.

He ran his tongue over you, savoring the taste of you in his mouth. Your body writhed beneath his touch, your moans and gasps filling the room.. the combination of it all causing his chest to puff with pride, while his tongue dived deeper in you to get a better taste. Jungkook lost himself in you, driven by the overwhelming need to make you his, to make everything he had always dreamed of a reality.

Your moans, the sight of you, your reaction to his touch... it all drove him crazy with a primal need to possess you, to make you his in every way he had thought of ever since Junghoon introduced you to the family. He delved deeper, his tongue exploring you with a fervor that bordered on desperate. Jungkook craved more of those sounds, those sensations, those reactions.

You almost couldn't recognize yourself. The passion, the way your boyfriend was giving himself to you, the way he was sinking his mouth in you as if he wanted to eat you whole and then eat you again. You swore he made you let out sounds you haven't heard on yourself ever before.

"Baby, I need you" you moaned, almost with a plea.

Your words, the need in your voice, the way your body responded to him -it was like fuel to the fire. He wanted -no, he needed- to give you what you were asking for.

Licking your clit one last time, he moved up your body, making sure he showered with kisses every centimeter on the way to your face. Jungkook positioned himself between your legs again, his eyes holding your gaze. His fingers brushed against you, teasing, but never quite giving you what you want. His voice was a low, almost desperate plea:

"Are you ready for me, baby?"

You dedicated him a soft smile, before you nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders "Always".

Your answer, the look on your face -it teared away the last shred of restraint he had. With one movement of his head, he motioned you to get a condom, which you reached effortlessly at the bedside table to hand it to him so he'd wrap himself on the latex. 

His lips claimed your mouth in a deep kiss, while his length slid into you with one movement, filling you completely. It was strange, but he felt like coming home, finally being where he belonged.

For a second, the guilt installed in his brain, reminding him of what he was doing, of the place he was taking over, but how quickly you pulled from his neck and how you linked your lips together worked to get him back to the only thing that mattered: you.

You broke the kiss, moaning when he started moving, a low giggle adorning the room and making Jungkook the weakest he had ever felt. "Fuck, you feel bigger".

He couldn't help but smirk at your words, the need to hear more, to make you feel even more driving him forward. He lifted your leg over his waist again, his lips finding your ear as he murmured: "Is that a good thing, baby? Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good" you closed your eyes, dropping your head back.

He didn't know how long he stayed moving while just looking at you, drinking up all of your reactions, memorizing every small detail on your face with every new wave of pleasure, or the way your nails digged on his skin whenever he angled his hips to reach the right spot. You were so hypnotizing and addictive.

He was done being a viewer, he was the main character of the most devoted love story to ever exist.

Hearing you moan like that, hearing how good he made you feel, pushed him even closer to the edge. Jungkook bit down on your shoulder, just enough to leave a mark, as he tried to hang on just a bit longer. He picked up the pace, driving into you deeper, harder, his eyes fixed on your face, ready for the smallest sign to give you everything you could ask for.

When you opened your eyes, you didn't recognize the dark look in your boyfriend's eyes as he crashed into you, his pace was relentless, like he had been deprived from touching you for years.

Your hands moved instantly to his wrists, trying to find some stability as your body kept bouncing harder against the mattress. Jungkook intertwined his fingers with yours, holding onto you as if he never wanted to let go. He could feel your body responding to his, and could see how close you were.

"Give it to me, baby. Give me everything you have" he asked softly, your hands moving to each side of your head as his body bent over to cover yours.

He held your gaze, he took care of your body, and he walked with you to your high to make sure you wouldn't miss a single beat. Until you both turned into one, your bodies being a mix of shivers and electricity.

Jungkook held you tight, only letting go of your hands to wrap his arms around you and sink his face on the curve of your neck to inhale your scent. You were so his that it physically hurted.

"That was..." you thought for a few seconds, trying to come up with a word "new".

Jungkook curiously moved back to look into your eyes "New? In a good sense?"

"Yeah... Yeah" you nodded, huffing a laugh "Different, in a good sense though. It's just that..." you started to explain, feeling a bit nervous "you're usually so soft and slow, and careful and delicate".

"Am I?" Jungkook lifted his eyebrow, trying to wonder if he allowed his own needs to take control of himself and risk getting exposed. "I just got carried away. I'm sorry if I hurted you".

"Hoon, I've been asking you to be a bit rougher for months" you chuckled "Why are you apologizing? I liked it" while speaking, you tilted your head, looking at him "Maybe we should get even freakier next time".

For a second, Jungkook's lip twitched at hearing his brother's name on your lips, but he recomposed quickly after, letting a smirk be drawn on his face.

"You felt like a completely different person" you chuckled "I liked it".

Jungkook pecked your lips quickly, trying to get rid of the idea that he was indeed a different person.

"Shall we get something for dinner?" he casually asked, hugging you tight in his arms. He stretched his legs lazily,moving his face down to look at you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. "How about we order something for dinner? I'm starving."

You blinked, surprised. "Order something? You usually insist on cooking after..." you trailed off, cheeks warming.

He tilted his head, the playful grin never faltering. "Figured I'd give us both a break. Besides, my cooking could use a little variety."

Junghoon always prided himself on his cooking, especially after moments like these. It was his way of grounding himself, of caring for you. Still, you shrugged off the unease. He probably was just trying to be thoughtful in a different way.

"What are you in the mood for?" you asked, shifting to grab your phone.

"Anything but Chinese food," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

Your fingers paused mid-air. "But...you love Chinese food."

Jungkook stopped, trying to think of what to say to get away from his own mess.

He hesitated, barely perceptibly, before chuckling. "Right. I meant, I've had enough of it lately. Craving something else."

You nodded slowly, letting it slide, but a faint buzz of doubt lingered in the back of your mind. As you scrolled through the menu options, he got up, moving to his pants on the floor.

His movements were fluid, confident, but lacked the familiarity you'd always known. The way he grabbed the fabric and tossed it on: it wasn't the usual meticulous way Junghoon folded and set aside his clothes.

"Pizza?" he suggested, his voice easy, casual. "Something simple."

Your lips curved into a small smile despite the growing doubts. "Sure, pizza sounds good."

As you placed the order, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He was looking at you, but there was something in his eyes -a hunger, an intensity- that didn't belong to Junghoon. You shook your head, telling yourself it was all in your imagination.

After slipping into your clothes, the two of you left the room, the warm glow of the moment still lingering in the air. Junghoon walked beside you, his arm brushing yours occasionally as you both made your way to the living room.

"What time should the food get here?" he asked, glancing at you.

"About thirty minutes," you replied, checking the confirmation on your phone. "Plenty of time to relax."

Jungkook moved first, wrapping his arm around your waist to drag you with him over the couch, making sure both of you falled over it, your body almost over his lap, as he cuddled you tight. Something so simple as that had you instantly feeling better, instantly forgetting about any doubts or insecurities, vanishing that sense of unease and anxiety, to welcome comfort and love.

You didn't realize, but you started rubbing your cheek against his chest, while your hands held tight on his arms, your eyes closed while you allowed his scent fill your nostrils.

You were tired of being suspicious, and always ending on the worst of the conclusions, because small changes didn't always have to be for the worst.

If that was the first night of a new phase of your relationship, you'd gladly take it.

And something in him moved at your reaction. He was convinced he'd make you a million times happier than his brother ever did. It was as if the universe was telling him you were always meant to end up with him, because you molded together perfectly.

He, and only him, was everything you ever wanted, and he'd make sure he'd be the only thing you'd ever want. 

Two months had passed since that afternoon when Jungkook left the divorce papers on the counter, months since you signed them and stormed out of his house. You thought it was over. Final. You got the few things you had brought in your suitcase the first day you showed up there. You made sure to forget everything that was related to him.

He had made his choice, and you made yours -you walked away and never looked back.

That was the original plan, after all. You agreed on that arranged marriage, you both played the perfect couple and then you got divorced when he got the position he married you for. Several couples ended things after they realized they tied the knot way too early, so your case wouldn't stand out.

Life after him was quiet.

You slipped into a routine, convincing yourself this was freedom. The first three weeks, you tried to focus on yourself, you tried to find a job, you found someone new -a man with kind eyes, soft words, and no complications. He wasn't Jungkook, but that was the point. There was no fire, no chaos, no heartbreak lurking around the corner. You were finally getting that peace you had never been able to have.

You almost believed it was enough. Until you received his message:

"Come back. We have unfinished business"

For a moment, you sat frozen, staring at the screen, your pulse quickening. The message was too simple, too loaded with meaning. You'd spent months trying to rebuild your life, you spent months trying to forget about him and move on. Whatever unfinished business Jungkook thought you had was none of your concern.

You deleted the message.

It didn't matter. You weren't going back. You didn't know about him, but you were sure every business related to him was pretty much finished.

At least, that was your idea -until the doorbell rang.

You hesitated, your heart in your throat as you approached the door. You didn't know why, but the vibe you felt that day, the shiverings running up your spine, warned you not to open the door and just go on with what you were doing.

When you opened it, your world tilted and you knew you should've listened to your instinct.

Jungkook stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes sharp and unrelenting, like he hadn't missed a single moment of your absence. His black suit clung to his frame, his expression unreadable, though there was an unmistakable heat in his gaze.

"Miss me?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with something darker, something possessive.

Your breath caught, but you quickly recovered. "What the hell are you doing here?"

His eyes flicked to your bare ring finger, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think you know."

"No, I don't," you snapped, crossing your arms. "You signed the divorce papers, I signed the divorce papers. It's done. We're done."

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "No, Y/n. We're not."

Your heart stopped for a split second. "What are you talking about?"

He stepped closer, the air between you charged with tension. "I never sent the papers. I signed them, sure. But they never left my desk."

It hit you like a punch to the stomach. The past few months -the distance, the quiet life you tried to build- had all been based on a lie. You didn't know why you were so surprised, everything with Jungkook was always based on a lie.

"You've got to be kidding me," you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief. "Why?"

Jungkook's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. "Because I wasn't ready to let you go."

Anger bubbled up inside you, masking the ache in your chest. "You don't get to decide that for me."

"I think I just did," he said, his voice low and steady, the weight of his words suffocating. "And I'm not leaving until you understand that this..." he gestured between you. "...is far from over."

"You're insane," you said, stepping back to put distance between you. "I've moved on, Jungkook. I have a new life. Someone else..."

"Someone who isn't me," he cut in, his tone dangerously soft. "And we both know how that story ends."

"I don't care about what the fuck you do, but I'm not going back to you" you challenged him. "Don't want to send those papers? Fine, I'll get you to court if that's what you want".

"You can do that" he nodded "But I'm afraid it won't turn out well for you" his smirk widened at your confused expression. "You know... You left our home, you didn't even come to pick up your things because you sent someone else instead" his eyes narrowed "Abandonment isn't well seen during divorce trials".

You didn't want to lose your temper, but your voice broke as you raised it to confront him "What fucking abandonment are you talking about? You have the divorce papers, you signed them first".

"What divorce papers?" he lifted his eyebrow. "It's a bit difficult to prove something when you don't have physical proofs".

Your blood was boiling, your body was trembling with rage and frustration. How could he dare coming back to your life that way? After everything he did to you? Why was he making things so difficult?

You clenched your fists, refusing to give in to the whirlwind of emotions he was stirring inside you. "You don't control my life anymore."

"No," Jungkook said, closing the space between you until you could feel the warmth radiating from him. "But you're still my wife, so get that pretty ass back home if you don't want to make things worse for you".

You stood there, frozen, as Jungkook's words settled in the air between you. The anger, confusion, and pain bubbled up inside you, but there was something else too -a flicker of uncertainty.

You'd spent months convincing yourself it was over. That you were free. But standing here, facing him again -looking into those eyes that knew you better than anyone else- it felt like you were right back where you started.

"I'm not going back," you said, but the words came out more fragile than you meant them to.

"Then don't," he replied, his voice soft but resolute. "But be ready for the consequences. We're still married, so I expect you to go back to our house."

You met his gaze, determined not to show him how much his presence unsettled you. You weren't going to let him have the upper hand again.

"Our house, my ass..." you muttered, turning to walk away.

But then, his voice stopped you. "I left the keys in your mailbox, Y/n."

You froze mid-step, the weight of his words sinking in. He wasn't just expecting you to return. He was staking a claim on your life once more, as if he'd never let you go in the first place.

Swallowing your pride, you turned back to face him. "If I ever thought of coming back, don't think for a second that I'm going to make this easy for you. The way I acted before would be a beautiful road in comparison. I'll make your life hell"

A faint smile tugged at Jungkook's lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

The way he turned with his ego on its full rise, as if he knew you'd do what he wanted, had you losing yourself when you closed the door. You wanted to burn that apartment down, you wanted to throw every heavy object at his head, you even wanted to bang your head against the wall and make all the thoughts stop. You understood the fury, but why was one side of you glad he showed up? Why the hell were you hopeful and relieved?

You were angry at Jungkook, but even more frustrated at yourself, because there wasn't a logical explanation for your reaction.

What the hell was going on with you?

The drive back to your old house was a blur, your thoughts spinning as you tried to make sense of everything. You had made the decision to return, but only because you knew you couldn't escape the pull he had on you -not yet. Not completely.

When you arrived, you hesitated before unlocking the door. The keys were still in your hand, their cold weight a reminder of everything that had happened between you two.

As you stepped inside, the first thing you noticed was the silence. The living room was too quiet, the space feeling too familiar, too... him.

And then you saw him.

Jungkook sat casually on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, a smug smile on his face. The thing that caught your attention, though, was the ring resting on the coffee table in front of him -your wedding ring. The same one you made sure to leave behind before slamming the door at the entrance and starting a new life -that you thought would last longer than just two months.

He watched you closely, eyes gleaming with an unreadable expression as he spoke, his voice low. "Welcome home, Y/n."

You didn't say anything at first, your gaze flicking from the ring to his face. The frustration and betrayal you felt were still fresh, but it wasn't enough to drown out the undeniable truth -Jungkook knew how to get under your skin like no one else.

You walked past him without a word, picking up the ring and slipping it onto your finger, the cold metal a reminder of everything you had once shared.

"Don't think this means anything," you said, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you. "I'm here, but I'm not yours. And I'm coming back with my conditions".

He smirked while arching his eyebrows, inviting you to share with him the ideas you came up with the twenty four hours you were apart.

"I'll keep my room, we aren't sharing a bed" you said first. "I want my space. I have enough with having to stay here until you get bored, I don't want to deal with your snores on top of it all".

His chuckle echoed in the four wide walls. He could give you back your room, it wasn't like he made any changes. Actually, he didn't dare to move a single thing whenever he got in there to sit at the edge and look around, since it was the only way to feel close to you those two months you were apart.

"We're married, but I'm living my life".

"That means fucking that new guy?" he arched his eyebrow, not amused by your second condition.

"That means having my own life, do and undo whatever the hell I want, leave this place whenever I please with no explanations. You want me here? Fine. But it'll be as if you had a piece of decoration".

"I want you here at eleven every night"

You froze at his petition, sure you didn't hear him well or understand him properly. Did he just say...?

"Go and fuck whoever you please, but at night I want you in your bed, under my roof" he calmly added.

He couldn't control who you were going to see, and it wasn't like it was going to be something to last forever -he was convinced you'd give up on any other men you had tried to meet after him the second you spent more time together again. It'd be as if you had never left.

He wanted to be relieved and calm, knowing that you'd be safe in his house. That was all he needed.

"And what if I don't want to?"

"I'm accepting your conditions, you should also accept mine" he cut you off, his glare rough as he drilled into your eyes.

"Fine..." you sighed. "The time I'm here, though, I don't want you to speak to me unless it's necessary. And I mean life or death situation" you tried to make yourself clear by adding that new condition.

"Now I can't speak to you?"

"You had a chance to and you didn't take it, now I don't want to hear anything, absolutely nothing, at all, from you".

Said that, you picked up your suitcase, walking upstairs to close yourself inside your old room, surprised at how the place even smelled the exact same way it did the day you left.

Jungkook's smile didn't fade as he leaned back on the couch, looking up at the short way you made to the first floor. "We'll see about that."

The first few days back in the house were cold and quiet -just how you wanted it. You stuck to your word, speaking to Jungkook only when absolutely necessary. If he asked a question, you answered with as few words as possible. If you crossed paths in the hall, you barely spared him a glance.

It worked... for a while.

But Jungkook wasn't the type to tolerate being ignored.

One evening, you were in the kitchen preparing dinner when you felt his presence behind you. He leaned against the counter, silently watching you as you chopped vegetables.

You ignored him, hoping he would leave.

He didn't.

The silence stretched between you like a taut wire, heavy and suffocating. Finally, Jungkook spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Are you really planning on keeping this up forever?"

You didn't look at him. "We agreed to only necessary conversations."

"And this feels very necessary to me," he said, stepping closer. "Unless you're enjoying playing house in silence".

Your jaw tightened. "I'm not playing anything, Jungkook. I'm trying to survive living under the same roof as you".

His lips curved into a slow, maddening smirk. "Funny, because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're running away".

That did it. You dropped the knife onto the cutting board with a sharp thud and turned to face him. "Running away? From what exactly?"

"From me" he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "From whatever it is you're so afraid to admit."

"You're delusional," you said, crossing your arms. "Not everything revolves around you, Jungkook."

He took another step forward, and suddenly the space between you felt far too small. "No, but you're making it pretty obvious that something about me still gets to you" his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before locking onto your eyes again. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be working so hard to avoid me".

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to back down. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just choosing not to engage with someone who clearly can't respect boundaries".

Jungkook chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "Boundaries, huh?" his voice dropped an octave, dangerously low. "Tell me, Y/n... how long do you think you can keep pretending you don't feel anything when I'm this close?"

He was right in front of you now, his breath warm against your skin. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to push him away, to tell him he was wrong.

But you didn't move.

For a second, neither did he.

Then his hand brushed against your wrist, his fingers curling gently around it -not forcefully, but enough to send a jolt through your system. His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

But you couldn't.

The tension snapped, and before you knew it, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn't soft or tentative -it was raw and desperate, a collision of anger and need that left you breathless. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer as the world around you faded away.

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it -the heat, the frustration, the undeniable pull that had always existed between you.

But reality hit just as hard, and you pulled back, breathless and shaken.

"See?" Jungkook whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "You can lie to yourself all you want. But you can't lie to me".

"No, that's definitely more your thing" you clapped back, making sure your back was glued to the counter, as if that would keep from making another mistake.

"You still think I lied to you?" his eyebrows momentarily arched, before his hand landed over the counter, bending his body slightly.

"I don't think so, I know it" you tilted your head. "Which makes me wonder what the fuck do you exactly want from me?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he aimed to take a step closer to you, his hand slipping from the counter as he approached you.

Before he could reduce the distance to a palm, you quickly picked up the knife over the cutting board to threaten him with it, Jungkook instantly raising his hands in a mockery surrender pose.

"You treated me like a fool once. I'm not allowing you to do it a second time" you assure him, your eyes piercing through his.

You dropped the knife back to the counter, thinking it was going to be a better idea to just leave and have dinner somewhere else than stay in that house and stand his constant comments and silent looks.

The moment you left Jungkook standing in the kitchen, lips swollen from the kiss you still felt burning on your skin, you knew you couldn't stay in that house any longer, at least not when you felt so weak.

One wrong word and move, and you'd be back to a place you'd regret.

You grabbed your coat and keys, ignoring the pounding in your chest, and headed straight to Steve's apartment.

He answered the door within seconds, his brows lifting in surprise when he saw you standing there. "Y/n? What's wrong?"

You stepped inside, brushing past him. "I shouldn't have gone back to him. Moving into that house was a mistake."

Steve shut the door behind you, his expression hardening. "Did he do something?"

"No," you said quickly, though your voice wavered. "Not exactly. But... he won't let me go. He keeps trying to pull me back in, and it's suffocating."

You tried to ignore the fact that you didn't tell your boyfriend about the kiss. You could have, but for some reason you chose to hide that detail.

Steve gave you a soft look, his hand aiming for your arm to brush his fingers against the thick fabric of your coat. "Let's get you something warm first".

You played with the white cup in your hands, the steam from your hot tea almost reaching your nose.

"It's clear what he's doing" he thought out loud, his head shaking while still deep in thought. "He knows you're too strong to fall for his games, so he's trying to trap you emotionally. If you really want to get him out of your life, you need to hit him where it hurts".

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Jungkook's entire identity is wrapped up in that company. It's what made your marriage necessary in the first place, right? He needed you to solidify his position as head of the company. So... why not disrupt that? Use the one thing that connects you both: his business".

The idea left you breathless for a second, the audacity of it hanging in the air. It was dangerous, calculated, and exactly the kind of move Jungkook wouldn't expect.

"You want me to ruin his position?" you asked cautiously.

"Not exactly ruin it," Steve said with a sly smile. "But challenge it. You have enough influence and knowledge to shake things up. Attend board meetings, make connections with the investors, prove that you are the real power in this relationship, not him".

Your mind raced at the possibilities. Jungkook had always thrived on control -especially in the business world. If you stepped into that world and took control of your own narrative, you wouldn't just be playing his game. You'd be rewriting the rules.

"I don't know..." you murmured, but deep down, a part of you was intrigued.

You wanted to fight back, but you weren't sure how the consequences of your actions could affect Jungkook in the future.

Hold on a second... Why were you even feeling sorry for him?

"Think about it," Steve said, leaning back with a confident grin. "If Jungkook wants to play power games, give him a fight he won't see coming".

You returned late that night, slipping back into the house like a shadow. Jungkook wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, but you felt his presence everywhere -watching, waiting.

As you climbed the stairs, your eyes drifted to the ring still sitting on the coffee table, gleaming under the soft light.

You ignored it and headed to your room, the resolve hardening in your chest.

This was war now.

Jungkook stood at the head of the conference table, his voice calm and commanding as he laid out his latest strategy to the board. His navy suit and confident stance made it clear who was in control. Every investor in the room hung on his every word.

Until the doors to the conference room swung open, interrupting him.

All eyes turned toward you as your heels clicked against the marble floor. Jungkook's smirk grew the moment he saw you. You were as beautiful as he kept thinking throughout the conference, that aura around you worked like a magnet. His attention had to be on you whenever you were in the same room -and even if you weren't. His eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity, assuming you were here for a surprise visit.

But then you didn't stop by the door.

Instead, you walked to the far side of the long table, your expression composed and businesslike, not a single glance aimed at him. The room fell into a stunned silence as you looked down on the man who was sitting at Jungkook's right, your intimidating gaze immediately making him look to his left so everyone would move one seat away so his seat would be free for you.

Without a word, you took a seat, right next to Jungkook.

The tension in the room was palpable.

Jungkook's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he watched you lean back in your chair, your fingers calmly tapping on the table. "Y/n," he said slowly, his tone low and questioning. "What are you doing here?"

You offered him a polite, professional smile, ignoring the flicker of warning in his eyes. "I'm here for the meeting, of course". You turned to the others, your voice clear and confident. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. You all must know, but I'm Y/n, and as of this morning, I'll be joining the executive board as the company's new Strategic Advisor".

Jungkook's jaw clenched. You could see the muscles in his neck tighten, though his expression remained otherwise unreadable. He leaned slightly toward you, his voice barely made it to your ears. "You've been busy, haven't you?"

You didn't blink. "I thought it was time I got involved. You keep insisting I'm your wife and such. You wanted me back at our house, so I think it's just fair I also take part in our business. You've always said we're a team, haven't you? You should be happy".

He straightened, eyes fixed on you, his mind running like crazy with all the thoughts in his head. "A team," he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "Of course".

The meeting resumed, but you could feel Jungkook's eyes on you the entire time. Every word spoken, every decision discussed -it was all charged with tension. You chimed in occasionally, your remarks sharp and insightful, earning nods of approval from several board members, and casually opposing your husband's ideas or opinions.

By the end of the meeting, it was clear to everyone that you weren't just a pretty face in a designer dress. You belonged in that room, and you weren't going anywhere.

As the meeting wrapped up, the board members began to file out, offering you polite nods as they passed. Jungkook stayed seated, watching you with a carefully neutral expression. When the door finally closed behind the last executive, the silence between you became deafening.

"You've made your point," he said, his voice low and laced with something between admiration and irritation. "You had fun. Now go back home. This isn't a game".

You stood, smoothing your dress and giving him one last look. "Who said I'm playing a game, Jungkook? I'm just here to do what's best for the company".

With that, you turned and walked toward the door, leaving him sitting there -his eyes dark, his mind already calculating his next move.

That night, you barely made it through the front door before Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

You swore things were being way too peaceful for it to be real. You left the company later in the evening, you spent time with your boyfriend, and then you went back home before eleven like Jungkook had conditioned you.

You didn't expect him to still be awake.

"You've got some nerve, Y/n," he said, leaning against the doorway of the living room. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone. His dark eyes pinned you in place, burning with a mix of anger and something else far more dangerous.

You calmly slipped off your heels, pretending not to notice the tension radiating from him. "I don't know what you're talking about".

He pushed off the doorframe, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. "Really? Barging into my meeting, announcing your shiny new position in front of the entire board without telling me first? That wasn't just a power move, that was a declaration of war".

You crossed your arms, holding his gaze without flinching. "I'm only doing what's best for the company. Or are you threatened by me, Jungkook?"

His eyes darkened at the challenge, his jaw tightening. He stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming. "Threatened?" he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "No, love. I'm not threatened by you. But you should be careful".

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that a warning?"

His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it "Call it... advice". He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "Because if you want to play games with me, you'd better be ready for the consequences."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" you shot back, refusing to back down despite how close he was.

He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "No, Y/n. I know you aren't scared of shit like that".

The air between you crackled with tension. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a dangerous standoff. Then, without warning, Jungkook's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently -but firmly- around your wrist.

"You think you can walk into my world and play by your own rules?" he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me remind you who taught you how to play this game in the first place".

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, all restraint vanishing in an instant. The kiss was fierce, consuming, a clash of frustration and desire that had been building for far too long. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you against him as if daring you to push him away.

But you didn't.

Instead, you kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every ounce of your anger and defiance into it. It was a battle neither of you wanted to lose, a fight that left you breathless and trembling.

You found yourself pulling him closer, your hands wrapped around his neck when he pushed you against the door to corner you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes burned with that familiar intensity -the one that always left you on edge.

"Tell me again," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "that you're not playing games with me."

You looked at him through hooded eyes, before you got back some strength to speak "I'm not. I'm just giving you the consequences of your actions".

After pushing him, you managed to walk away. You were paying him back with his own decisions, you were doing exactly what he told you to do -you even started wearing the ring again- only to make him regret everything he did to you.

Because, deep down, you weren't sure anymore.

But, as always, Jungkook changed the rules.

It started at the office. He didn't oppose your presence after a few days. Not only did he accept you working at the company, but he made it clear to everyone else that you belonged there.

"Y/n's perspective is valuable," he said during one of the meetings, his tone calm and confident, as though the two of you hadn't nearly torn each other apart the night before. "We'll benefit from her insight".

You blinked in surprise, not missing the way the other executives exchanged glances. Jungkook never shared control with anyone. Yet there he was, backing you up without hesitation, his demeanor warm and approachable.

You waited for him to pull some kind of stunt. To undermine you or push you into a corner. But it never came.

Instead, he stayed close -always helpful, always charming. He lingered by your office with coffee in hand, offering advice or casually checking on your progress. He praised your work during meetings, smiled at you in that disarmingly genuine way that made your stomach twist.

And he kept his distance -physically, at least. No more sudden touches. No more whispered words meant to unravel you.

But his eyes... his eyes never stopped watching you, never stopped waiting.

Every time you turned a corner, he was there. Every time you doubted your next move, he was one step ahead, guiding you with perfect timing. He was patient. Calculated.

He was making it impossible to hate him.

One late afternoon, after another meeting where Jungkook had spoken up in your favor, you lingered in the conference room, trying to process it all. The sun dipped low, casting golden light through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Something on your mind?"

You turned to find Jungkook standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his sleeves rolled up. His voice was soft, almost casual, but there was a gleam in his eyes that betrayed his intent.

"Just thinking," you said, keeping your tone neutral.

"About how well we work together?" he asked, stepping inside and leaning against the table. "Admit it, Y/n. We make a hell of a team".

You narrowed your eyes. "You're up to something".

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not this time. I meant what I said. I'm here to help you. I told you, we're partners now, we're a team. No games".

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But trusting Jungkook was like stepping into quicksand -you never knew how far you'd sink before it was too late.

Still... he was making it harder and harder to resist.

"I'll treat you to dinner" he moved his head, motioning you to walk with him.

But you froze. You already had plans, you were already meeting up with Steve to have dinner. But something in you couldn't hide the fact that you wanted to spend time with Jungkook -even if you saw each other all day now, it was never enough.

You could've said no and let Steve take you to the same restaurant you went to on Fridays, but you didn't.

"Uh, let me send an email real quick" you lied.

You took out your phone to let Steve know you wouldn't be able to meet him that night. It was the fourth time that week you stood him up. While the other times weren't related to your husband but work, they made you feel more regretful than that evening.

Twenty minutes later, you found yourself seated at a small, intimate table in an intimately lit restaurant tucked away from the city's busy streets. The place had an understated elegance -brick walls, warm lighting, the scent of freshly baked bread drifting through the air.

It wasn't flashy or extravagant. It felt... cozy. Unexpectedly personal.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, watching you as the waiter poured wine into your glass. "Relax, Y/n. This isn't a business meeting".

You raised an eyebrow, swirling the wine in your glass. "Isn't it?"

"Not tonight." He rested his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. "I just want to enjoy your company. No business. No games".

You sipped your wine, unsure whether to believe him. The man sitting across from you was far too good at blurring lines, at slipping through cracks in your armor when you least expected it.

"So," Jungkook said after a beat of silence. "Tell me. How's your first week at the company been?"

"It's been... fine," you replied cautiously.

"Just fine?" His lips curved into a playful smirk. "Come on. Be honest".

You leaned back, crossing your arms. "Honestly? I expected you to be more of a pain in the ass".

His laughter was low and rich, drawing the attention of a few nearby diners. "I'm full of surprises".

"That much is true," you muttered, setting your glass down. "But I still don't trust you".

"Good," Jungkook said, his tone soft but serious. "You shouldn't".

That threw you off. For a second, his expression shifted -his eyes darkened, his smirk fading into something far more sincere.

"But maybe," he added, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, "you'll give me the chance to change that".

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. Jungkook had always been a master at keeping you on edge, but tonight was different. Tonight, his words felt less like a game and more like... something real.

The waiter returned with your meals, breaking the tension. The conversation turned lighter, Jungkook recounting an embarrassing story from one of his early days at the company. His laugh was contagious, his charm impossible to ignore.

For the first time in a long while, you found yourself lowering your guard -just a little.

But as the evening went on, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was always one step ahead.

You were halfway through your meal when Jungkook leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn't quite read.

"So... Steve," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "Tell me about him."

Your fork froze mid-air. His tone was light, but the question hit you with the force of a loaded gun. You set your fork down carefully, your gaze narrowing.

"What about him?"

Jungkook tilted his head, lips curling into a slow, almost amused smile. "You've been seeing him for... what? A few months?"

"Why does that matter?" you asked, sipping your wine, trying to appear unaffected.

He shrugged. "Just curious. Seems like a nice guy. The kind of guy who probably wears beige sweaters and helps old ladies cross the street". His smile turned sharper "Safe".

Your jaw tightened. "Yes, he is. Which is more than I can say for most people" you snapped back your attack clear.

"Wow, calm down. It wasn't meant as an attack" Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. "Although... safe is boring. You're not boring".

"Not everything has to be chaos and fire, Jungkook," you shot back, your voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

He swirled the wine in his glass, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. "No. But it's more fun, isn't it?"

You could feel the tension rising again, the air between you thick with unspoken words. He wasn't just curious -he was poking at something, testing you, trying to find a crack in the wall you'd built.

"I'm happy with Steve," you said, folding your napkin and placing it on the table. "And he's good for me. Unlike certain people who thrive on turning everything into a power game".

His smile faded for just a second, his eyes flashing with something darker. "You think I'm playing a game with you?"

"Aren't you always?"

Jungkook leaned forward again, his voice low, dangerous, and intimate. "If I were playing, Y/n, you'd know it. But I'm not. Not this time".

You stared at him, your heartbeat picking up pace. His words were a challenge -a direct, undeniable dare to see through his layers and figure out what he really wanted.

The waiter returned, breaking the moment as he offered dessert, but you waved him off. You needed air. You needed to get out before Jungkook could sink any deeper into your thoughts.

The cool evening air hit your skin as you stepped outside the restaurant, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You needed space -time to clear your head after that loaded conversation.

You had barely taken a few steps down the sidewalk when you heard the door swing open behind you, followed by the sound of his footsteps.

"Y/n," Jungkook called, his voice calm but commanding.

You didn't stop.

"I'm going home," you said without turning around. "Alone".

Because that was the only way you'd assure yourself you'd make your way to your room without letting Jungkook get in your head.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, easily catching up to you. "I'll drive you".

You stopped abruptly, spinning on your heel to face him. "I don't want your company".

Jungkook smirked, his hands sliding into his pockets as he stepped closer, his eyes gleaming under the streetlights. "I'm not asking for your permission".

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. "You can't control everything".

His eyes darkened, his playful demeanor shifting into something far more serious. "I'm not trying to control you" he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "But I'm not letting you walk away from me like that. Not tonight".

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood so close you could feel his warmth despite the chill in the air. His presence was overwhelming -intoxicating in a way that made you hate how easily he could unravel you.

"I really can't stand you" you muttered, turning to walk again. But before you could take another step, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in place.

"Let's go home together" he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. "Please."

The word caught you off guard. Jungkook rarely asked for anything. He demanded. But the way he said it now, with that rare hint of vulnerability, left you momentarily speechless.

Against your better judgment, you nodded, letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine".

The car ride was silent, the tension thick as Jungkook drove with one hand on the wheel, his other resting on his knee. You kept your gaze fixed on the passing city lights, refusing to acknowledge the way his presence filled the small space.

But when you reached the house, it was clear the night was far from over.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the house, the engine's low hum fading into silence. You hesitated for a moment before stepping out, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. Jungkook followed closely behind, his footsteps deliberate but hesitant -something you weren't used to from him.

He opened the front door and held it for you without a word, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. You stepped inside, your pulse quickening when you felt him right behind you, the air heavy with unspoken words.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice raw and unfamiliar.

You froze in place, your back still to him, your hand tightening around the strap of your purse when you were able to recognize that tone in his voice. You didn't want to do this. You couldn't do this. Not now. Not after everything.

But Jungkook wasn't giving you a choice.

"I've thought about you every damn day," he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "Every night. Two months, Y/n. Do you know what it's like to feel haunted by someone who isn't even there?"

Your breath hitched, and you turned around slowly, meeting his eyes. His usual armor -the smirk, the cocky confidence- was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked... tired. Vulnerable. And painfully sincere.

"I hated it," he continued, stepping closer. "And then there's that... Steve" he practically spat the name, his jaw tightening. "You think he's good for you? He's not. He'll never know you like I do. He'll never be able to keep up with you".

"Jungkook..." you started, but he cut you off.

"No," he said firmly. "Let me finish. I know I've made mistakes. I know I pushed you away when I should've done everything to keep you. And I know it's selfish to drag you back when you started to move on. But it drove me insane knowing someone else was filling the space I left empty" his voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "I can't lose you. Not again".

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, every syllable unraveling the carefully constructed wall you had built over the past two months. Your throat tightened, tears threatening to rise, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to let them fall.

"Stop," you said quietly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

Jungkook's eyes flickered with confusion, but he obeyed, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"I can't hear this," you whispered, shaking your head. "Not now".

"Why?" he asked, taking another step closer, his eyes searching for yours.

"Because..." your voice caught in your throat.

You didn't know how to finish that sentence without exposing the feelings you were trying so hard to bury.

"Y/n," he said, softer this time, his hand reaching out as if to touch you but stopping halfway.

You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. "I need... I need space".

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the weight of his confession hanging heavy between you. Jungkook nodded slowly, his expression unreadable, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Okay," he said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'll give you space".

You turned away quickly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. But even as you walked toward the stairs, his words echoed in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

The restaurant was warm and filled with life, but you felt cold, your thoughts miles away from the conversation. Steve sat across from you, his smile easy, his words familiar and comforting, yet you barely registered a word. Your mind kept drifting back -back to the house you shared with Jungkook, to the memories that clung to you like a second skin.

"Y/n?" Steve called gently, his brow furrowed as he leaned closer. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. "Yeah, sorry. Just... tired".

But you weren't tired. You were haunted. Haunted by the way Jungkook had started chipping away at your carefully built walls without even trying.

The mornings when you'd come down for coffee, and he'd already be there, leaning casually against the counter, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, holding out a cup he'd made just the way you liked it.

"Morning," he'd say, his voice low and husky from sleep, a knowing smile tugging at his lips when your fingers brushed as you took the cup.

The way he'd linger close -always too close. Passing by you in the hall of your office, his hand grazing your lower back, his touch sending sparks up your spine. Or how his eyes would follow you in meetings at the office, dark and intense, making you forget what you were supposed to be saying.

And the nights. The nights were the worst.

"Do you always work this late?" Jungkook had asked one evening, standing in your doorway, his tie loosened, his eyes tired but warm.

"I like working late," you had replied, barely glancing up from your laptop. But you'd felt his presence, the air charged with that electric tension.

"Liar," he'd muttered under his breath with a chuckle, disappearing down the hall before you could respond.

Every little thing he did had felt deliberate -small, intimate gestures that blurred the lines you had tried so desperately to draw.

And now, sitting across from Steve, you felt the weight of those memories pressing down on you like a tidal wave. You weren't the same person who had walked out of Jungkook's life two months ago. You had been reshaped, little by little, without even realizing it.

"Y/n, we need to talk" Steve said suddenly, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind. Those words brought you back instantly "I've noticed... Y/n, I think something's changed between us".

You looked up at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

He studied you for a long moment, his expression soft but knowing. "You seem... distracted. Distant, even. And I don't think it's just work. We barely see each other, and it's always one excuse after the other. And the little we get to see each other, you wear that fucking ring like you're actually married to him" subtly, your eyes moved down to your hand.

He was right. The first time it happened, Steve pointed it out with a joke. But the second, the third time... he noticed something was off with the way you started becoming more attached to that piece of jewelry. He noticed how you were distancing yourself from him, as if you never wanted to move on from the person who put it on you in the first place.

"I..." you tried to deny it, but the words caught in your throat.

"You're in love with him," Steve said gently, his eyes sad but honest.

Your breath caught in your chest, your pulse racing.

"No, I'm not," you said quickly, too quickly. "It's complicated".

Steve leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "No, it's not. It's pretty simple, actually. You're still wearing his mark in every part of your life, even if you don't see it. And maybe you've convinced yourself that you've moved on, but trust me... you haven't" he sighed, his back resting on the backrest. "When we started seeing each other, I thought you'd eventually forget about him. But now that he's back, I can see it even clearer on you. You think of him the way I think of you".

His words stung because they were true.

"I... I don't know how I feel about Jungkook. But you're right about one thing: I think about him the way I wished I thought about you" you sighed. "And I've been so selfish with you, so unfair... It shouldn't have taken me this long to realize".

Or maybe you did realize earlier, but you just clung to the idea that the stability Steve kept offering you was all you ever wanted. You tried to cover up your feelings with what you wanted.

"I'm really sorry for putting you in this position, I'm really sorry for hurting you and making you waste your time. I shouldn't have..."

"I knew what I was doing when I first walked in" Steve smirked. "It was also my choice to stay. I just hope he can be better and make you the happiest, because it's the only thing you deserve, Y/n".

Your heart broke when you watched him getting up and walking to you, his lips leaving a small kiss on your forehead before he started walking towards the exit.

It was over.

The front door clicked shut behind you, the soft sound of the lock sliding into place echoing in the quiet house when you came back home. You kicked off your heels, your jaw tight and your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Your heart raced -half from the lingering tension with Steve, half from the anticipation of seeing Jungkook.

The lights in the living room were turned on, you didn't need to catch a glimpse of Jungkook sitting on the couch to know he was there, his elbows were resting on his knees, his dark eyes locked on you the second you stepped inside. He looked like he'd been waiting for you, his jaw clenched, his tie loosened around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone.

He was indeed waiting for you. You arrived one hour late to the time you first agreed on your conditions, and his mind was already racing with all the things you could be doing, or the things that could've happened to you.

"Late night?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

You froze, your pulse quickening as the weight of the conversation you'd just had with Steve pressed down on you. "Don't start, Jungkook. I'm not in the mood tonight".

He stood, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. "I'm just curious. Did your boyfriend have something interesting to say?"

You glared at him, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. "This is none of your business".

He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening. "None of my business? You live in my house, Y/n. Everything about you is my business".

"You're unbelievable," you shot back, your voice rising. "I live in your house because you wanted it that way. We're still married because you wanted it that way. You made me your business because you're fucking insane" you snapped back "Yet I'm the one who owes you explanations and details?"

Jungkook stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You do owe me an explanation, at the very least. You disappear for hours, come back with that look on your face, and I'm just supposed to act like it doesn't bother me?"

"It shouldn't!" you snapped. "This marriage is a lie, Jungkook! You don't get to be jealous or possessive. Fuck fuck's sake, you shouldn't even be worried. You said it yourself! It's meaningless, remember?"

He flinched at your words, his eyes narrowing. "You're really going to throw that in my face again?"

"You gave me no choice," you hissed. "I'm just playing by the rules you set, Jungkook".

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you crackling with tension. His eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place: frustration, anger, and something deeper, something dangerous.

"Fine," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "If that's how you want it".

You turned on your heel, heading for the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. But Jungkook wasn't finished.

"You can run upstairs and lock yourself in that room all you want," he called after you. "But you can't keep avoiding this forever".

You didn't respond, your footsteps heavy as you climbed the stairs. When you reached your room, you slammed the door shut and leaned against it, your chest heaving.

The truth was, you were more terrified of not running.

Terrified that if you let him close again, you wouldn't have the strength to push him away.

Weeks passed, and the house felt colder with every passing day.

The distance between you and Jungkook had become a silent war -each of you too proud to surrender, too stubborn to bridge the gap. Every interaction was brief and transactional, your words clipped, your glances fleeting.

And yet, he was always there. Always watching. Always close enough to remind you that no matter how much space you tried to put between you, it was never enough.

Tonight was no different.

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, applying the final touch of lipstick. The buzzing of your phone vibrated on the dresser -a message from your friends confirming the plans for the night.

You slipped into your heels, grabbed your jacket, and headed toward the door. The house was unusually quiet, but you barely noticed. You were halfway down the stairs when Jungkook's voice, low and groggy, stopped you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?"

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe of the living room. His hair was tousled, his face pale, and he clutched the front of his shirt as if he could barely stand. His eyes met yours, and for a split second, you hesitated.

"Out," you said slowly, your brow furrowing. "Are you... okay?"

Jungkook groaned softly, staggering toward the couch and sinking onto it with a dramatic sigh. "I don't think so... I've felt off all day. I didn't even go to work".

When you didn't see him in the office, you thought it was because he was avoiding you as hard as you were avoiding him.

But you were wrong.

You crossed your arms, watching him closely. He looked convincingly miserable -too miserable, almost.

"You seemed fine earlier," you said, raising a brow.

You did catch a glimpse of him when you came back from the office. Truth was that you didn't pay enough attention to him, while he was lying on the couch, to tell whether he was really sick or just having a lazy day.

"I've been sick all day" he muttered, rubbing his forehead as if the weight of the world rested there. "Maybe it's a fever. Or worse. Who knows? I might not even wake up tomorrow".

You narrowed your eyes. "Are you seriously faking being sick to keep me from leaving?"

His head shot up, a spark of offense flashing in his eyes. "What? No!" he coughed -a little too perfectly timed. "I would never. I just thought... maybe you could stay. You know, in case I need... help".

A short laugh escaped you despite yourself. "Help with what? Tucking you in?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a small smirk, the sickly act slipping for a second. "Well, since you're offering..."

You shook your head, exasperated. "For real...."

He leaned back into the couch, his expression softening as he looked up at you. "Come on, just stay. Just tonight" his voice dropped, quieter, almost vulnerable. "It's been a while since we've had dinner together. I'll make it worth your while".

Something about the way he said it made your pulse quicken. His eyes -dark and earnest- locked onto yours, and suddenly, you were questioning whether you wanted to leave at all.

You sighed, glancing at the door one last time before slipping out of your heels and tossing your jacket onto a nearby chair. "Fine. But only because I don't want to come home and find you passed out on the floor".

Jungkook's eyes lit up for a brief second before he coughed again -weakly, almost theatrically- and leaned back on the couch like he was barely holding on. "I knew I could count on you".

You rolled your eyes, walking over to the other side of the room. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Takeout. Whatever you feel like," Jungkook said, already reaching for his phone. "My treat".

It wasn't long before the smell of food filled the house. Jungkook had ordered your favorite dishes, and despite yourself, you couldn't help but appreciate the thoughtfulness. The two of you sat cross-legged on the living room floor, cartons of takeout spread between you, soft music playing in the background.

He passed you a pair of chopsticks, his fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. "You're too quiet tonight," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you. "What's on your mind?"

You gave a noncommittal shrug, focusing on your food. "Nothing much".

"Liar," he teased, nudging your leg gently with his knee. "You always get that look when something's bothering you".

"You're imagining things," you replied, taking a sip of your drink.

He watched you for a moment, his playful smirk fading into something softer. "I missed this".

Your breath hitched slightly, but you quickly masked it. "You mean tricking me into staying home while you fake a near-death experience?"

Jungkook chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "No. I mean... being with you like this. Talking. Eating. Just... being".

You hated how easily his words unsettled you, how they made your carefully constructed walls tremble just a little.

"Don't get used to it," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent. "You're not that convincing, by the way".

His brows lifted. "What do you mean?"

"You forgot you were supposed to be sick about twenty minutes ago".

Jungkook froze, his chopsticks hovering mid-air, then laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I got caught up in the moment".

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Uh-huh. Caught up in ordering half the menu and devouring it like you haven't eaten in a week?"

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "I haven't eaten in a whole day... almost. I needed to be convincing".

"You keep proving how crazy you are" you said dryly, but you couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

As the evening stretched on, the atmosphere grew warmer, more intimate. You leaned back on the couch, full and content, while Jungkook sat beside you, his arm resting on the back cushion, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

He didn't say much after that, just watched you in quiet contemplation, his gaze unreadable but steady, like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

And for once, you didn't pull away.

"After all these months... I still don't know why you agreed to marry me" he said out of the blue, catching you off guard. "You're old enough to refuse. What could've your parents done to you? Block your cards?"

Your feet hesitated over the edge of the coffee table, while those memories came back after being left to the deepest area in your brain.

"I don't know. And I didn't want to risk learning it" you mumbled. "Sometimes I think they adopted me to trade me for something better" you scoffed, saying those thoughts out loud for the first time. "You can say all my life since I moved with them was about that. I was never a daughter, but an object to exchange. It's okay though" you sighed "I learned to live like that".

Jungkook stared at you for a few seconds in silence, drinking in every expression, every small gesture that gave out more of your feelings.

"I never thought of you that way" he admitted. "Before we married, I was attracted to you. Really attracted, I mean... You have no idea the amount of times that..."

"Jungkook, stop" you chuckled, attempting to hide your face behind your palms.

"What I mean is that our marriage just helped fasten things. Then I started to know you more after we moved in together, and I swear I've never been more lost with someone else before. Every little thing, even things I thought I already knew, made me feel like I was rewriting you all over again. I think... I started falling for you much earlier than I should've. And God, it felt so fucking good".

You could just stare at him as he spoke, trying to find a hint on how he was playing you, but there was nothing at all.

"But then... then you overheard me talking to Eunwoo... I knew the second I saw your face that I'd ruined everything. I hated myself for it. Every damn day after you left, I cursed myself for not stopping you".

Your breath caught in your throat. The sincerity in his voice, the cracks in his carefully guarded composure... It was too much. Too real.

"I just want you to know that I didn't say those things to hurt you," Jungkook began, his jaw tightening. "I didn't feel them. I could never feel them. I said them because I thought I was protecting you".

"Protecting me?" you blinked, confusion flickering across your face.

"My father started getting suspicious of us when I kept dodging the topic every time he brought up the divorce. And it got worse when I suggested you to become part of the company, because you're brilliant and you have amazing ideas, and you'd add so much by doing what you love... And you proved it these weeks. But my father thought that maybe I was getting too invested in you, and having us involved together in something else would only make it harder for us to part ways. I didn't want you to become a target, I didn't want you in between the crossfire".

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. "So your solution was to tell Eunwoo that I meant nothing to you?"

"I panicked. Eunwoo and his mother have a tight connection with my father, so maybe if I reassured him that everything was as always..." Jungkook admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "I thought if I made it sound like it was all just business, like I didn't care... it would all stop. My father would leave you alone, and we'd be able to keep going for a little longer until we got strong enough. No one would question your success, and with just a little more time we would've gotten strong enough to get through everything. I didn't realize how wrong I was until it was too late".

He ran a hand down his face, his frustration evident. "It backfired in the worst way. You heard it, and it broke us. I would've taken it back in a heartbeat if I could".

"What changed now? Because I doubt your father was happy with the idea of having me back".

"It's worse to have you away, and share you with someone else, than going through a war against my father to keep you in my life" he whispered. "When I signed those papers... I was so angry at you, but I was angrier at me, because I thought I wasn't going to be able to protect you. And then you signed them as well, and I couldn't find the courage to file them and present them in court. It was the only thing that kept us together".

You leaned back against the couch, folding your arms tightly across your chest, trying to put some distance between yourself and the raw vulnerability in Jungkook's eyes.

"The first week, I tried to get you out of my head and convince myself that it was for the better. I kept postponing presenting the files until I realized I didn't want to".

You opened your mouth to respond, but the way Jungkook's gaze darkened made you stop short. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as if weighing what to say next, before finally leaning closer -too close.

"I gave you space, I let you live your life" he said, his voice low, almost dangerously calm. "But you didn't really think I'd let you go, didn't you?"

Your pulse quickened, unease spreading through your chest. "What are you talking about?"

Jungkook tilted his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I never stopped keeping tabs on you. Not once. Those months we were apart? I knew exactly where you were, what you were doing... and who you were with".

Your heart stopped. "You... what?"

Jungkook shook his head, his expression almost regretful. "I wanted to let you move on at first... but the second I saw him holding your hand, touching you like you were his, I couldn't stand it. So I made sure he wouldn't last long in your life." he paused, leaning closer. "Did you ever wonder why Steve's company suddenly lost that big contract? Why he became distant, out of nowhere?"

Your stomach churned. You had wondered. You remember the big turn in Steve's personality after that, but you two managed to get him back on the right road.

"You..." your voice shook with rage. "You almost ruined his career just to... what? Keep me single?"

Jungkook's jaw tightened. "To bring you back where you belong" his voice softened, his eyes blazing with something raw and possessive. "With me" he sighed, slightly throwing his head back "When you didn't break up after that, I knew I needed to do something else. And that was why I showed up looking for you and bringing you back".

Your breath caught in your throat, torn between fury and disbelief. "You're sick in the head".

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you can't deny that part of you wanted to come back. Even now, you're still here. You're still mine."

Your hands clenched into fists as his words settled like poison in your veins. "Mine." That one word snapped something inside you, sending you spiraling between anger and something far more dangerous.

Shit... why was your body feeling lighter after his confession? Why were you so eager for his lips? Why did his twisted actions work to make your heart beat faster for him?

"I know you're feeling the same way even if you're with that prick" he whispered, his fingers softly tracing your jaw.

He shifted closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours, rubbing your skin over your tights. He looked into your eyes, and you could feel a spark ignite between you. "Y/n, love," he said softly, "I've been an idiot. I'm sorry."

Jungkook leaned in, his lips gently brushing against yours, instantly getting them to part as if he had thrown a spell on you. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, getting lost in the rush when he finally linked your lips together. It was slow, gentle, as if he was afraid you'd move away. But slowly, your lips sucked on his, your lower lip molding in between them, the kiss deepening as your tongues explored each other's mouths, the mere contact making the two of you moan. Jungkook's hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, making sure there wouldn't be a single inch between your bodies.

After the distance between you, he couldn't tolerate any physical space.

"You taste so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I've missed this".

You moaned softly, your lips still brushing his, your body responding to his touch. "I've missed you too," you finally admitted, your voice breathless.

When you kissed again, you could feel the air shifting, the tension turned into something heavier, something that almost made you eat the other alive.

Jungkook's hand moved up to cup your breast, his fingers gently squeezing while his thumb rubbed against your nipple through the fabric of your dress. Shocked by pleasure, you stopped the kiss to bite his lower lip for a few seconds, the time it took you to control your own moan. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a low growl, when you finally released his lip.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice filled with need. "I want you".

Jungkook's hand moved to the hem of your dress, slowly lifting it up, his warm palm covering every inch of skin he went through as he moved it up. And every centimeter of skin that was exposed made you eager for more. You raised your arms when he pulled the elastic fabric up enough, allowing him to remove it completely. Jungkook leaned down, his lips capturing one of your nipples through the lace of your bra, having your back arching and your body surrendering to him as you rested against the backrest of the couch. You moaned, your hands tangling in his hair to make sure he wouldn't move away.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. "I could touch you all day".

Your bra fell away, and Jungkook's hands replaced the lace, cupping your bare breasts with an eroticism that had your breath catching in your throat. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands explored your body, he wanted to make it clear you were his. Not to you, but to his own self. Your hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.

"I want to feel you," you whispered, your fingers tracing the muscles of his chest.

Jungkook moved away shortly, just enough to allow you to remove his shirt completely. He unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw his hardened bulge, straining against his briefs.

"You're already like this?" she chuckled, looking up to his eyes.

Jungkook smirked, hooking his thumbs into his briefs and pushing them down. "You keep underestimating the power you have over me, love. My whole body reacts for you".

Your hands moved to your tights, pushing them down along with your panties. Jungkook kneeled on the couch, his hands moving to your thighs, taking you by surprise when he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit.

You gasped, your body bucking against his touch. "Jung... kook," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair.

His tongue continued to explore you, his fingers joining in, sliding in and out of her wetness with a slow motion that had you sinking deeper on the couch. Your moans filled the room, your body writhing against his touch.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with desire, before licking again.

As minutes passed, you could feel your body tensing, your high crashing over you with such intensity that you saw white for a mini second. Jungkook's tongue continued to move, drawing out your pleasure, not wanting to move away from you. Your muscles relaxed, although not entirely, because you were back at that state of arousal that had you edging for more, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jungkook stood up, his hands cupping your face to stop you before your mouth could reach his length. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with all the filthy things you wanted to happen.

You wanted him.

"I have to be inside you first" he bent over to kiss you. "It's the only right way to do it".

His hands hooked below your arms to pull you up, to quickly move around your waist and your nape to link your lips once more. His touch felt as if he wanted you to become one: the way he kept sticking your body close to his, the way his hand on your hair tangled around the locks to pull you deeper for the kiss, the way his nails scratched your back... It was more than just love.

You'd have walked blindly towards your room if you hadn't stumbled and fell over the stairs. Neither of you knew whether it was the need or hunger, but neither of you got up. Jungkook made sure to place you so you'd be sitting on the step while your back and head resting on the others, with his body barely making it on the edge to fit in between your legs.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick sliding in slowly. You moaned, your body adjusting to his size after so long. Jungkook began to move, his hips thrusting against yours slowly at first, trying to memorize the feeling, the way your walls wrapped around him so good that he almost forgot how to breathe.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice filled with pleasure.

Your hands moved to his back, your nails digging into his skin while your legs wrapped higher on his waist. "Jungkook, please," you moaned, your body arching against his.

You didn't know to specify what you wanted, he already knew. Jungkook's thrusts became more forceful, his body slamming against yours. You didn't even care how the edge of the step kept hitting against your back, that pain became part of the pleasure at some point. Your moans filled the hall, your body responding to his touch in a way it hadn't before. "Yes" you moaned, your body tensing as another wave of pleasure approached. "Jungkook" your voice cracked.

Jungkook's thrusts became erratic, his body tensing as he tried to control his own release from coming. But it was so hard, he ended up spilling himself inside you, his hips sloppily moving while his dick twitched wrapped around your walls, his lips seeking for yours to let you know he wasn't done.

Somehow, you made it to his room, the bed looked like a battlefield from all the turns and shifts, the sheets stained with sweat and something else.

Your body collapsed a third time over the mattress, your moan prolonging a bit longer while you tried to catch your breath. It was like a reward for getting him hard again when you sucked him off through his release during the second round.

Your ears beeped, your sight was blurry, but the only thing your over sensitive body could feel was the way his body collapsed on top of you, his body shuddering with his orgasm.

You laid there for a moment, your bodies entwined, his face hiding in the curve of your neck while he whispered the most devoted words to your ear. He rolled off of you, just to pull you close. You snuggled against him, your body still humming with pleasure, ignoring the rational part of your brain that was asking you to leave.

You'd have plenty of chances to act that way. During that night, you just wanted to be with him.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispered. "Even if you hate me for what I did, even if your heart belongs to someone else. I fucking love you, Y/n. And I doubt I'll ever be able to feel the same way about someone else".

The sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, the weight of last night pressing down on your chest as memories flashed through your mind: Jungkook's confession, the tension, and how everything had unraveled after, how you tried to ignore it as he hugged you closer to help you fall asleep.

For a second, you hoped it had been a dream, but the faint hum of activity outside your bedroom told you otherwise. Jungkook was already awake.

You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up. The silence in the house was oppressive, a sharp contrast to the heated exchange from hours before. After throwing on something casual, you padded barefoot into the kitchen, where you found him leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in hand.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Morning," he said, his voice low, almost cautious.

You nodded, walking past him to pour yourself a cup of coffee. The air between you felt suffocating, thick with words that had already been said, and some others that were left unspoken.

"Did you sleep well?" Jungkook asked, breaking the silence.

You glanced at him briefly. "Fine".

He took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving yours. "About last night..."

"Let's not," you cut him off, your tone firmer than you intended. "I think we've said enough".

His jaw clenched, but he nodded, stepping aside as you moved toward the fridge. You grabbed some fruit, peeling it in silence, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.

"Are you really going to pretend it didn't happen?" he finally asked, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "What I said, what we shared... it wasn't nothing".

You set the fruit down with a soft thud, turning to face him. "I'm not pretending it didn't happen. I just don't know what you expect me to do with it".

"I expect you to stop running," he said, taking a step closer. "To stop hiding behind your walls every time things get complicated. Fuck, I thought we were getting somewhere".

"And I expect you to stop playing with my life," you shot back. "You've been controlling everything since the beginning, how am I supposed to trust this isn't just another game to you?"

He looked genuinely hurt for a moment, his expression softening. "It's not a game," he said quietly. "It's never been a game. You're the only thing that's ever felt real in all of this".

His words made your heart twist painfully, but you pushed it aside, unwilling to let him see how deeply they affected you. "I need time," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just flip a switch and forget everything that happened".

Jungkook's shoulders sagged slightly, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "I get it," he said after a pause. "Take all the time you need. But I'm not going anywhere".

You stared at him for a long moment before turning away, grabbing your coffee and heading back to your room.

You thought that would be the end of the conversation, at least for now. But Jungkook had never been one to back down so easily, and deep down, you knew this was far from over.

Later that evening, the house was unusually quiet. You sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at the television, not even registering the images flashing across the screen. The weight of everything that had happened lingered heavily between you and Jungkook, who sat a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you rather than the show.

"Y/n," Jungkook said softly, breaking the silence. His tone was different -calm, almost resigned. "We need to talk".

You turned to face him, your heart tightening at the serious look in his eyes. "About what?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. "I've been thinking... maybe I've been holding on too tightly".

Your breath hitched slightly, but you kept your expression neutral. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook looked at you with a mix of sadness and determination. "I've forced you to stay. Dragged you back into my life without giving you much of a choice. I thought it was what I needed to keep you close, but... I can see how much it's been tearing you apart".

You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand to stop you. "Let me finish," he said gently. "If you want to go, I won't stop you this time. No tricks, no conditions. I'll set you free" his voice caught slightly on the last word. "I just want you to be happy, even if that means it's not with me".

The air seemed to leave the room all at once. His words, so final, hit you harder than you expected. For months, you had wanted exactly this -a clean break, a way out. But now that he was offering it, your chest tightened painfully.

"You're... serious?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said quietly, his eyes searching for yours. "I'm tired of forcing you to stay in a place you don't want to be. I love you too much to keep you trapped here".

Your throat constricted to the raw emotion in his voice. His confession hung in the air, making it nearly impossible to breathe. You wanted to say something -anything- but the words wouldn't come.

For the first time, it felt like the walls you had built around yourself were beginning to crumble, piece by piece. And it scared you more than anything.

Jungkook smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll leave you alone tonight. You can think about it. Just... let me know what you decide".

He stood slowly, his steps heavy as he walked toward the hallway. You watched him disappear around the corner, your chest tightening more with every step he took.

Alone in the silence, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the thing you were most afraid of wasn't staying with Jungkook -it was losing him entirely. You fell for him too long ago, you refused to see it even when Steve threw it at your face, and now you were scared of the aftermath of building all those walls around you.

The tension had been eating you alive for days. Each passing hour only made it worse. Jungkook had given you space -too much space- and the longer you waited, the more you hated it. You had tried to convince yourself that you needed time, but deep down, you knew the truth. You didn't want time. You didn't want to be free.

You wanted to be with him.

The realization hit you like a freight train as you found yourself pacing outside his company's headquarters. This was reckless -completely irrational- but you didn't care.

With your heart in your throat, you pushed through the glass doors of the building, ignoring the curious glances from employees as you made your way to the top floor. The elevator ride felt endless, every second ticking by with the weight of everything unsaid between you.

When the doors opened, you strode into his office like a storm. His secretary tried to stop you, stammering something about an important meeting, but you barely heard her. Nothing mattered except getting to Jungkook.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a group of executives when you burst through the door. His head snapped up, eyes widening in shock. For a moment, the room fell into stunned silence.

"Y/n?" his voice was calm, but the confusion and flicker of hope in his eyes betrayed him.

You didn't respond -not with words, at least. You crossed the room in long, determined strides, your pulse racing. The executives glanced at each other, murmuring awkwardly, but you didn't care.

You stopped right in front of him, your gaze locking onto his, while your hands were holding the divorce papers he kept in his office. You ripped the papers, throwing them over his desk. Then, without a second thought, you grabbed the front of his suit jacket and pulled him down into a kiss.

It wasn't gentle or hesitant. It was fierce and all-consuming, filled with every emotion you'd been holding back for months -anger, longing, love. Jungkook froze for half a second before his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal intensity.

The room erupted in gasps, but the world faded away. There was only him -his warmth, his scent, the way his lips molded perfectly to yours.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Jungkook's eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I don't want a divorce," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "I don't want to leave. I want to be with you, Jungkook. I want to love you, I want the freaky sex and the cozy nights in, the boring days and the full family pack. I want you".

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face. His grip on your waist tightened slightly. "Say it again," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart.

"I want you," you repeated, tears welling in your eyes. "I love you".

Jungkook pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that".

The executives were still awkwardly lingering nearby, but Jungkook didn't seem to care anymore. He leaned down to kiss you again -softer this time, filled with the promise of everything yet to come.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Let's go home." When he turned to the executives, all of them were dedicating him a confused look "We'll retake this tomorrow morning. As you can see, my wife needs me".

Jungkook intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you out of the office without a second glance at the stunned executives. His grip was firm, almost desperate, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.

Neither of you said a word on the elevator ride down, tension crackling between you like a live wire. His thumb traced absent circles on the back of your hand, a gesture that felt far too intimate for someone who had just promised to set you free days earlier.

Once you stepped outside, the cool evening breeze hit you, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. Jungkook's black car was already waiting at the curb. He opened the door for you, his eyes dark and unreadable, and you slid inside without hesitation.

The ride home was thick with silence, but not the cold kind you'd endured for weeks. This one was heavier -charged with everything still left unsaid. Every glance he stole at you from the driver's seat only made your pulse quicken, while his smirk grew when he felt the muscles on your thigh tensing under his touch as he reached for it.

When you arrived back at the house, Jungkook barely waited for the door to close before pulling you into him. His lips found yours again, urgent and demanding, as he backed you against the wall in the entryway.

"I meant what I said," you whispered between kisses, your fingers curling into the fabric of his blazer. "I'm not leaving".

Jungkook rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "Good," he muttered, his voice rough with emotion. "Because I'm never letting you go again".

His hands moved to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "Do you know how many times I've imagined you coming back to me like this?" he whispered, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "How many times I regretted pushing you away?"

"Then don't push me away this time," you said softly, your own voice trembling.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face -a crack in his carefully built armor. "I won't," he promised. "Not ever again".

He kissed you once more -slow and deliberate, savoring every second as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you all over again. And this time, it wasn't just a kiss filled with heat and passion. It was filled with something deeper -something neither of you dared put into words just yet.

"Come with me," Jungkook said, his voice low and inviting. His fingers laced with yours again as he led you upstairs, his steps steady but purposeful.

This time, there were no barriers between you. No distance. No hesitation.

You were back home.

Months had passed, and spring wrapped the city in soft sunlight and blooming flowers, a perfect backdrop for what was meant to be a "first-anniversary celebration" in everyone else's eyes. But to you and Jungkook, this was more than a party. This was your real wedding -a chance to do things right. No forced arrangements, no hidden agendas, no resentment. Just the two of you, ready to start again.

The preparations had consumed you for weeks, but for once, you didn't mind. Every decision felt personal now -every detail a piece of who you had become together. The venue was an intimate garden, bathed in warm light and adorned with white roses, soft candles flickering on every table. Guests mingled, clueless to the significance of the ceremony.

You stood in front of the mirror in the bridal suite, your heart racing as you smoothed down the lace bodice of your gown. This time, there was no hesitation, no dread weighing down your steps.

A knock at the door broke your thoughts.

"Come in," you called softly.

The door opened, and Jungkook stood there, already dressed in his tailored black suit, looking devastatingly handsome. His tie hung loose around his neck, as though he'd been too restless to finish getting ready.

"You're not supposed to see me before the ceremony," you teased, smiling despite the fluttering in your chest.

"I know," he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes softened as he looked at you. "But I couldn't wait. I needed to see you".

He walked toward you, stopping just short of touching you. His eyes roamed over your face, his expression shifting from admiration to something deeper.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "But more than that... you're mine".

You felt your throat tighten at the sincerity in his voice. "Jungkook..."

"I know this is just an anniversary party for everyone else, but for me... this is it. This is our real beginning," he said, his voice low and earnest. "No pretenses, no games. Just us. I love you, Y/n. More than anything".

Your breath hitched at the words -so simple, yet so powerful. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"I love you too," you said softly. "And I can't wait to marry you. For real this time".

A rare, boyish smile spread across his face. "Then let's go out there and do it right".

As you walked down the aisle moments later, everything felt different from that day months ago. This time, his eyes didn't carry worry or uncertainty. They were filled with warmth and love, unwavering as they locked on you.

And this time, when you reached him at the end of the aisle, it felt like the happiest day of your life.

The soft hum of a string quartet filled the air, blending with the scent of fresh roses as you stood across from Jungkook. His hand was steady in yours, his eyes never once leaving your face. The officiant spoke gently, inviting you to share your vows.

Jungkook had already said his -a tender, heartfelt confession of love and promises, full of words you never imagined hearing from him when your marriage first began. You barely managed to hold it together. But now, it was your turn.

Your throat felt tight, and for a moment, your eyes flicked to the guests seated around you. Then back to Jungkook. Only him.

You took a deep breath, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions flooding your chest.

"I've thought a lot about this moment," you began, your eyes locking on his, "what I'd say if I ever got the chance to do this right. The truth is... I didn't believe this would make me so happy when this all started. I didn't believe we'd make it. We were too different. Too stubborn. Too much like enemies who refused to surrender".

Jungkook's lips curled into a faint smile, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, encouraging you to continue.

"And yet," you said, your voice softening, "somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, you became the person I didn't want to live without, you showed me a love and support I haven't ever seen in anyone else. I tried to fight it, I really did. But every time you stood by me -every time you pushed me to be stronger, even when I hated you for it- you made me realize something: I wasn't scared of you. I was scared of how much I needed you".

The air felt thicker, the world narrowing until it was just the two of you. Jungkook's eyes glistened, though he said nothing, waiting for you to finish.

"I love you," you confessed, your voice trembling now. "I love your strength, your loyalty, and your ridiculous determination to win every argument. I love how you see through me, even when I try to hide. I love how, no matter how hard I push, you always pull me back. So today, I'm choosing you again. Not because I have to. Not because of expectations. But because I want to. Every day, for the rest of my life... I want you, Jungkook. And I promise to always fight for us -just like you've always fought for me".

The guests seemed to vanish in the background, replaced by a heavy, electric silence. Jungkook's thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes filled with something raw and overwhelming. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible.

"You've just ruined me," he whispered with a soft, breathless laugh.

You cleaned each other's tears while smiling, your touch feeling as raw and sensitive as never before.

The officiant, or more like someone you hired to play it for that party, smiled knowingly. "I think it's time to seal these vows with a kiss."

Jungkook didn't hesitate. His hand cupped your cheek tighter, drawing you in for a slow, tender kiss -one filled with promises and beginnings, a far cry from the fiery, desperate kisses you had shared before. This one was different.

When you pulled back, breathless and dazed, the crowd erupted in cheers. But Jungkook only had eyes for you. And you only had eyes for him. 

Taglist: @almostpurplelady