When we were enemies- part 1|| JJK
You were always first ā until Jungkook transferred and took your place. Now heās your academic rivalā¦ and your new stepbrother. Enemies at school. Tension at home. Pride clashing with feelings neither of you want to admit. But rivalry turns into something deeper. And just when you finally choose each other, everything falls apart. Miscommunication. Outside voices. A breakup that feels final. Until weeks later, you find out youāre pregnant. Now the boy who used to be your enemy ā and then your everything ā has no idea heās going to be a father. Because love was complicated. But becoming teen parents? That changes everything.
š Genre: Slow Burn Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivalry, Forced Proximity, Step-Sibling Trope (non-biological) Coming of Age, Angst, Emotional Drama, School Romance
šwarnings: this story includes bullying, Physical altercation (school fight), Emotional manipulation by side characters, Miscommunication trope, Teen pregnancy, Family tension, Jealousy & possessiveness themes, Smut
š Paring: Jungkook xx Reader
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Present ā The Breaking Point
āIf you walk away right nowā¦ donāt ever come back.ā
The words came out sharp, steady ā but your heart felt like it was splitting open.
He stood only a few steps from the door.
His fingers hovered over the handle, tense, uncertain. When his eyes met yours, they werenāt just angry.
You didnāt know which hurt more.
You hoped heād prove you wrong.
āSay it again,ā he murmured ā soft, controlled. Not shouting. Not cruel. That softness broke something inside you.
And before you could swallow the words backā
(Before the house. Before the fight. Before everything broke.)
You didnāt hate him at first.
Hate is loud. Explosive. Obvious.
What you felt was quieter than that. It was irritation. Competition. The constant need to prove something.
Jeon Jungkook transferred into your school mid-semester, and you noticed him only because everyone else did.
He walked in late on his first day ā hands shoved into his jacket pockets, dark hair falling into his eyes like he hadnāt bothered to fix it. The teacher stopped mid-sentence.
Whispers spread instantly.
āHe looks dangerous.ā
He wasnāt mysterious. He was just new.
āCan you introduce yourself to the class, please?ā the teacher asked.
He gave a small nod, a polite smile tugging at his lips.
āHello, everyone. My name is Jeon Jungkook. I hope we all get along.ā
He bowed slightly. The class clapped. Girls blushed. Boys sized him up. He took the empty seat by the window.
You didnāt turn around.
And you hated that you felt it.
Every time the window opened, a faint scent drifted forward ā something clean, sharp, almost cold. Like rain hitting pavement. It slipped into your thoughts and wrapped around your focus, distracting you in ways you refused to admit.
āOkay, class, today weāre having a pop quiz.ā
The room filled with groans. No one had expected it.
You were first in the class. Always an A+ student. You already knew you had this.
āClear your desks. No cheating. If I catch anyone cheating, itās an automatic zero.ā
You slid your notebooks into your bag, leaving only a blank sheet of paper and a pencil in front of you.
āJungkook, since this is your first day, you donāt have to take the test unless you want to. You probably learned this at your old school.ā
āItās fine,ā he said calmly. āIāll take it.ā
Ms. Lee nodded and began passing out the papers. The classroom fell silent except for pencils scratching against paper.
You were already halfway finished when something tapped your chair.
You ignored it. A crumpled piece of paper landed on your desk. You stared at it like it might explode. Slowly, you unfolded it.
Whatās the answer to number 6?
You didnāt turn around.
You slid the paper back without writing anything.
A moment later, it returned.
Your jaw tightened. But you didnāt want to risk the teacher catching you passing notes. So you slipped the paper under your worksheet, hoping heād finally get the hint this time.
After class, he caught up to you in the hallway.
āYou couldāve helped,ā he said casually.
āAnd you couldāve studied,ā you replied without stopping.
Silence stretched between you ā sharp, charged.
You expected him to argue.
He just walked beside you for a few seconds longer than necessary.
āYouāre first in the class, right?ā he asked.
āThatās none of your business.ā
A small hum of acknowledgment. Not mocking. Not impressed.
āRelax,ā he said. āI was just curious.ā
āWell, stop being curious.ā
He laughed quietly at that.
And you hated that the sound stayed with you longer than it should have.
Just a friction that settled under your skin and refused to leave.
You went home that day irritated for reasons you couldnāt explain.
You had a feeling this wasnāt the last time heād get under your skin.
The next day felt normal.
You didnāt look back at him once during class. Not when he walked in. Not when he sat down behind you. Not even when his chair scraped lightly against the floor.
You told yourself you didnāt care about the quiz.
Ms. Lee walked in holding a stack of graded papers. The class immediately straightened. Some students perked up with excitement.
āAlright,ā she said, tapping the stack against her desk. āIāve graded your quizzes.ā
The room filled with nervous shifting.
You sat up a little taller. She began passing them out row by row. Each paper landing on desks like tiny verdicts.
Your pulse quickened just slightly.
Then your paper slid in front of you.
You never missed anything on pop quizzes. Not when youād studied. Not when the material was easy.
Your eyes scanned the page quickly until you found it.
The answer you had written.
The correction in red beside it.
Behind you, there was a quiet intake of breath.
But you heard the slight shift of his chair.
You felt him lean forward.
āOuu,ā he said lightly, voice low enough that only you could hear. āIsnāt that the one I asked help for on?ā
You didnāt turn around.
You didnāt trust your face.
He leaned a little further over his desk.
āLooks like I got it right.ā
He turned his paper slightly so you could see it from the corner of your eye.
You almost snapped your pencil in half.
He sounded genuinely amazed. Not arrogant. Not mocking.
Which somehow made it worse.
You finally turned slowly, meeting his eyes.
Bright. Proud. A little surprised.
And you hated that your chest twisted at the sight.
Before you could say anythingā
Ms. Leeās voice cut through the room.
āLooking at these gradesā¦ some of you need to work harder. Exams are coming up, and some of these scores donāt look great.ā
āThe few who did pass ā keep it up.ā
She glanced down at her grade sheet.
āJungkook, good job. You are the only one who made a 100 on the quiz.ā
You felt it before you saw it.
Someone whispered, āDidnāt she usually get the highest?ā
Your grip on your pencil tightened.
You didnāt look at anyone.
Behind you, Jungkook shifted. He wasnāt speaking now.
Justā¦quiet Ms. Lee continued.
āY/N, you still did great, but you missed one.ā
The words werenāt harsh.
They werenāt meant to humiliate.
You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.
You had never been second before.
And it shouldnāt matter.
Because he asked you for the answer.
Chairs scraped loudly as students stood.
The noise swallowed the whispers, but you still felt them.
You packed your bag carefully. Controlled.
Before you could stand, a voice came from behind you.
ā Hey, I wasnāt trying to show off.ā
He wasnāt smiling anymore.
āI justā¦ā He rubbed the back of his neck slightly. āI didnāt expect to get full marks.ā
You searched his face for mockery.
āCongratulations,ā you said flatly.
āYouāre mad,ā he observed.
āI donāt care what you got.ā
āYou donāt have to lie,ā he said quietly.
āYou think this is funny?ā you snapped under your breath. āYou think you can just walk in here andāā
āAnd what?ā he asked, eyebrows lifting slightly.
āAct like you own the place?ā
Something flickered there.
āI donāt act like that,ā he said.
āYou donāt have to. Everyone else does it for you.ā
The hallway noise grew louder around you. But the space between you felt still.
āYou care way too much about being first,ā he said softly.
āAnd you care way too little about anything,ā you shot back.
His jaw clenched. For a second, neither of you moved. Then he stepped aside, giving you space to walk past.
He chuckled but the smile didnāt reach his lips. I hit a nerve āyeah, See you tomorrow,ā he said.
But as you walked away, your chest felt unfamiliar.
And somewhere deep down ā buried beneath pride and irritation ā
For the first time in a long time, someone had matched you.
And you didnāt know whether you wanted to beat him.
By the time lunch came, you had already sat through three classes pretending nothing was wrong.
Pretending the 95 didnāt itch at the back of your mind.
Pretending the whispers hadnāt followed you down the hallway.
You spotted Maya near the cafeteria entrance, laughing with another girl from your math class. The second she locked eyes with you, her entire face lit up.
You couldnāt help it ā you chuckled and waved back.
She excused herself and jogged toward you, nearly dropping her phone in the process. When she reached you, she wrapped her arms around your neck.
āIāve waited for you,ā she complained dramatically.
āYou saw me in second period,ā you deadpanned.
āThat doesnāt count. That was academic stress.ā
The cafeteria buzzed with noise ā trays clattering, chairs scraping, voices overlapping in loud waves. You grabbed your food and followed Maya to your usual table near the windows.
The moment you sat down, she tilted her head at you.
āYou look like you swallowed a lemon.ā
āI missed one on the quiz.ā
She stared at you like youād just told her the sky turned purple.
āThatās not the point.ā
āYouāre acting like you failed.ā
āI donāt fail pop quizzes.ā
She leaned back in her chair. āYou are actually insane.ā
You pushed your food around with your fork.
Her eyes widened slightly. āThe new guy?ā
Maya slowly leaned forward, intrigued. āWait. He made the only 100?ā
She let out a soft whistle. āOkayā¦ thatās kind of impressive.ā
āWhat?ā she defended. āIt is!ā
Before you could respond, the cafeteria doors opened again.
And like the universe had a sense of humor, there he was.
Jungkook walked in with two guys from your history class. He wasnāt laughing loudly. Wasnāt drawing attention to himself.
He moved easily. Like heād already settled in. Like this was natural.
āHeās so good-looking,ā Maya muttered without thinking.
Your head snapped toward her.
You stabbed at your food harder than necessary.
āHeās kind of mysterious.ā
You looked at her in disgust.
Jungkook glanced in your direction briefly.
Your eyes met for half a second.
And that didnāt bothered you not one bit.
Home felt quieter than usual.
You stepped inside and slipped your shoes off near the door.
Your mom was in the kitchen.
You didnāt stop walking.
You went straight to your room, shut the door, and dropped your book bag onto the floor. It landed with a dull thud.
You flopped onto your bed and stared at the ceiling. Your phone buzzed.
Maya: HE ADDED ME BACK ON INSTAGRAM
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt.
You replied with one emoji.
She sent back a string of laughing faces. You dropped your phone onto your chest and closed your eyes.
You still didnāt like the fact he scored higher than you. It wasnāt jealousy. You told yourself that.
Without letting your brain spiral any further, you forced yourself up and headed for the shower.
Hot water drowned out your thoughts.
After your shower, you changed into comfortable clothes and walked downstairs.
Your dog was waiting near the bottom of the stairs, tail wagging the second he saw you.
You smiled despite yourself.
You knelt slightly to pet his fur, and he leaned into your touch like you were the best part of his day.
You wished you felt that uncomplicated.
You sat at the table as your mom placed the food down.
She smiled and sat across from you. You began eating. It was quiet for a moment.
āHow was the quiz? Did you do good?ā
āI missed one. I made a 95.ā
You didnāt look at her at first.
But the silence stretched.
Her expression wasnāt angry.
It wasnāt disappointed.
āMm,ā she said gently. āThatās different.ā
āItās still good,ā she continued. āBut make sure you study a little harder, okay? So you wonāt make the same mistake again.ā
You picked your fork back up and continued eating. But the word mistake echoed louder than it should have.
Something was different. You felt it before you understood it.
In first period, when the teacher asked a question, you raised your hand. You answered confidently.
āSo is this perspective also influenced by economic shifts at the time?ā
He wasnāt leaning back casually anymore.
Ms. Lee blinked, impressed.
āGood addition, Jungkook.ā
You felt your spine straighten.
Later in math, he finished before you.
He didnāt say anything.
But when he handed in his paper, he glanced back at you.
At lunch, someone asked a question about an assignment.
Before you could answerā
āI already finished it,ā he said.
This wasnāt the quiet, mildly amused guy from yesterday. This felt intentional.
When class ended, you packed your bag quickly. He caught up to you outside.
āYouāre quieter today,ā he observed.
āIām always quiet.ā He tilted his head slightly.
āNot when youāre trying to prove something.ā
āAnd what exactly am I trying to prove?ā
He stepped closer. Not invading. But close enough that you felt it.
āThat youāre better.ā The smirk tugged at his lips again.
āYou think Iām competing with you?ā you asked.
āYou started it,ā you muttered.
His eyes darkened slightly.
And that was when you realizedāThis wasnāt accidental anymore.
He wasnāt just matching you.
And you didnāt know whether you wanted to shove him away.
When you walked out the noise of the hallway swallows everything.
Maya finds me by the lockers like she always does.
āReady?ā she asks, already slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Iām supposed to go to her house to help her study. Or technically, she says Iām helping her study. Itās more like we both sit there pretending to focus while talking about everything else.
We wait outside near the school gates for her dad to pick us up. The afternoon air is cool, and students crowd around in loud groups. I try not to look for him.
Heās across the parking lot with a couple of guys from class. Laughing. Relaxed. Like he didnāt just flip my entire sense of control upside down.
A car horn honks lightly.
We both hurry over and get into the backseat.
āHi, girls,ā Mr. Park says warmly.
āHi, Uncle,ā I reply automatically.
āHowās school going?ā
It comes out too fast. Too smooth.
He glances at me through the rearview mirror and laughs softly.
āMm,ā he hums. āIs that so?ā
Mr. Park has acted like a father to me ever since Maya and I became friends. Kindergarten. Thatās how long itās been.
Heās been there for school plays. Parent-teacher meetings when my mom had work. Birthday candles. Award ceremonies.
Iāve always been grateful for him.
Because I donāt have a father.
When my mom was pregnant with me, he left her for someone else. His first love. The one he said he never stopped loving.
And sometimes ā when he posts online ā I see them.
Always smiling in achievement posts.
āProud dad moment,ā the captions say.
I once saw my mom looking at one of those posts.
She tried to scroll past it quickly when she noticed me watching.
But I remember what she said later that night.
āYou have to work hard, okay? Always be first.ā
She smiled when she said it.
It felt like I was in a competition I never signed up for.
A competition with people who didnāt even know I existed. Except my father.
But I could tell it hurt her.
āWeāre home,ā Mr. Park announces.
We grab our bags and step out, slamming the doors behind us.
āYour momās in the kitchen cooking up a storm,ā he tells Maya.
We both laugh and head inside.
The house smells warm. Familiar.
Safe. We take our shoes off at the door and step into the kitchen. Mayaās mom turns around from the stove. The second she sees me, she squeals.
āHiii! Iām so happy youāre here!ā I laugh. āIt smells so good.ā
She pulls me into a quick hug anyway before going back to stirring something on the stove. We chat for a bit ā small things. School. Weather. Exams.
For a moment, I forget. Then a voice cuts through the room.
āLong time no see.ā I freeze for half a second. I know that voice.
Jimin leans against the doorway, arms crossed, a soft grin on his face.
Mayaās twin brother. I donāt even think before moving.
āJimin!ā I rush over and hug him tightly. He laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
āItās been a while,ā he says.
Heād taken a leave from school for a few weeks. Personal reasons. No one really explained.
āYouāre back?ā I ask, pulling away to look at him.
Maya suddenly rushes into the kitchen and throws her arms around Jimin again, even though she hugged him two seconds ago.
Heās her twin. Her other half. Sheās allowed to be dramatic.
Mr. Park walks over and rubs Jiminās head, purposely messing up his hair.
āAppa,ā Jimin groans, trying to fix it.
Mrs. Park laughs at the sight, eyes shining.
āOkay, guys,ā Mrs. Park says brightly. āFoodās done. Come to the table before it gets cold.ā
We all gather around the dinner table.
The conversation flows easily ā mostly centered around Jimin. What heās been up to. What heās missed. Little stories from when he was gone.
We listen like he might disappear again if we donāt.
And sitting there, watching them talk over each other, teasing, smilingā¦
It genuinely feels like family.
The kind of family dinner Iāve always imagined.
The kind I wished I had at home with just my mom.
No unspoken expectations.
Later that night, everyone slowly heads off to bed.
I decide to stay over and go to school with Maya in the morning.
After finishing the last dish, I wipe my hands on my clothes and set it on the drying rack.
Before I can turn aroundā
Someone clears their throat.
Jimin is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smiling at me.
I smile back automatically.
āIām really happy youāre home,ā I tell him.
When we were younger, I used to admire him so much. He was calm, kind, protective. I even had a small crush on him at one point.
Maybe a part of me still does.
He steps closer and gently pats my head.
āMissed you too,ā he says softly.
Thereās something tired in his eyes, though. Something different.
He walks toward the living room, and I follow.
We sit on the couch, legs stretched out, talking quietly.
School drama. Teachers. Maya being dramatic. Normal things. Then the question slips out before I can stop it.
He looks down at his hands.
āJust needed time,ā he says.
Thereās something there. Something heavy. But he doesnāt open the door to it.
After a moment, he stands.
āIām going to bed. You should too.ā
He pulls me into another hug.
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead.
Something in my chest feels tight.
I head into Mayaās room expecting her to already be asleep.
Sheās sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring at her phone.
āYouāre still up,ā I say.
She shrugs. āCouldnāt sleep.ā
For a few minutes, weāre quiet.
Then it spills out of me.
āWith Jungkook. Withā¦ everyone. With my dadās other kids. I donāt even know them and it feels like Iām constantly trying to prove something.ā
My voice cracks slightly.
āI donāt even want to be first anymore. I just donāt want to feel like Iām losing.ā
āYouāre not losing.ā
Instead, she squeezes my hand.
After a pause, I ask quietly,trying to change the subject. āWhy did Jimin really leave?ā
Her expression changes instantly.
Guarded. It was silence before she spoke again.
āI wasnāt supposed to tell anyone,ā she says.
āI wonāt say anything.ā
She studies me carefully.
The word feels unreal in the room.
āHe went to the States to live with our grandmother. They were looking for better doctors. Better treatment.ā
āHeās been gone two years,ā she whispers. āNo one at school knew. We didnāt want anyone treating him differently.ā
āI didnāt know,ā I breathe.
We sit in silence for a long time. Eventually we lie down. Maya falls asleep quickly.
I stare at the ceiling. Thinking about Jimin. About the way his smile didnāt fully reach his eyes. About how he kept something that heavy inside for so long. About how I was complaining about a 95.
Life suddenly feelsā¦ bigger.
And somewhere in the back of my mind āI think about Jungkook. About competition. About pride.
And for the first timeā¦None of it feels as important.
Morning came fast. You wake up and stare at the ceiling, the sun shining brightly through the window. Maya is still sound asleep beside you. You pick up your phone from the nightstand and check the time. Itās seven in the morning.
You sit up and gently push Mayaās shoulder to wake her. She groans and rolls the other way. You laugh.
āGet up before weāre late for school.ā
You get up and walk into Mayaās bathroom. Your spare toothbrush is still thereāyou come over so much that some of your things practically live here. This is basically your second home.
While brushing your teeth, you canāt help thinking about Jimināhis sad eyes when you asked why he left, and Mayaās quiet voice when she told you why heād been gone for so long.
You wish you had known. You wish they had told you. But at the same time, you understand why they kept it a secret.
After finishing, you splash water on your face to wake yourself up. Maya shuffles into the bathroom, her hair messy as she yawns and reaches for the sink.
āHey, when are we supposed to take the test again?ā Maya asks.
āTomorrow?!ā she says in surprise.
You laugh. Yesāthe test is tomorrow. The whole point of you coming over was to help her study.
āUgh, I totally forgot,ā she says. āWhen Jimin came home, I wasnāt even thinking about the test.ā She stares down at her hands.
You feel sorry for her. You understandāyou had forgotten too. Seeing him again made everyoneās day.
āHey, donāt worry about it. We can study during lunch and after school.ā
Maya smiles at you and steps forward, wrapping you in a warm hug.
āThank you,ā she whispers, eyes bright. āYouāre the best.ā
You hug her back, squeezing her gently before letting go.
Just then, thereās a knock at the door.
You pull back and call out, āCome in.ā
Mayaās mom steps inside holding a neatly folded uniform.
āHey, Y/N,ā she says with a kind smile. āI took your uniform and washed itāhere you go.ā
You take it from her, the fabric warm and freshly cleaned in your hands.
āThank you so much,ā you say genuinely, smiling back.
āIt was no trouble,ā she replies, brushing a stray hair from her face. āMake sure you guys eat something before school. Big day today, right?ā
You nod, glancing back at Maya, whoās already heading toward the kitchen with a sleepy but relieved smile.
As you walk down the hall, uniform in hand, you can almost feel today shifting from chaotic to manageable. The sun is higher now, light spilling through the windows and filling the house with warmth. Mayaās mom disappears back into her room, and you both make your way into the kitchen where the smell of toast and scrambled eggs floats through the air.
Maya flips two platesāone for each of youāthen looks over with that soft, grateful expression she gets when sheās finally feeling like she has a friend in her corner.
āSeriously,ā she says between bites, āI donāt know what Iād do without you.ā
You laugh, picking up your fork.
āWell,ā you say, āweāve still got a test to conquer. But weāll face it together.ā
She nods, about to respondā
When footsteps echo from the staircase.
Jimin is walking down the stairs.
Hands tucked into his pockets like he used to. Tie slightly loose. Hair still soft from sleep.
You didnāt think he would actually come back to school.
His eyes lift and meet yours instantly.
You swallow before answering.
āGood morning, Jimin.ā
You donāt even realize youāre staring until Maya lightly nudges your arm.
Relief washes over you in a quiet wave. Seeing him dressed like thatālike nothing ever happenedāmakes it feel real.
When he reaches the bottom step, he walks straight to Maya and presses a kiss to her forehead.
She beams and hands him a piece of toast.
āYouāre coming to school today?ā you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.
He glances at you again, toast half-bitten in his hand.
āYes,ā he says simply. āIām back.ā
Those words settle something deep in your chest.
You didnāt realize how scared you were of him disappearing again.
The three of you sit down at the table together. Breakfast feels warmer somehow. Lighter. Mr. Park teases Jimin about keeping up with assignments. Mrs. Park fusses over whether heās eating enough.
After breakfast, you and Maya head upstairs to get dressed. You change into your uniforms side by side, adjusting collars and smoothing fabric.
While buttoning your shirt, you glance at her reflection in the mirror.
āWhen did he decide he wanted to go back?ā you ask quietly.
Maya pauses for a second.
āLast week,ā she says.
You hesitate.
āIs thatā¦ okay? For him to go? I meanā¦ is he really fine?ā
āThe doctors cleared him to return. He still has checkups. But they said he can live normally again.ā
āWas he scared?ā you ask.
Mayaās expression softens.
āYeah,ā she admits. āHe didnāt want people looking at him differently. He doesnāt want to be the sick kid. He just wants to be Jimin again.ā
Your chest tightens at that.
āIām glad heās back,ā you whisper.
You both grab your bags and head downstairs.
Jimin is already by the door, hands in his pockets again.
And when he looks at youā
Thereās something gentle in his expression.
Like heās happy youāre here.
Like coming back feels easier because you are.
And for the first time in a long whileā¦
Today doesnāt feel so heavy.
The ride to school is quieter than usual.
Maya sits in the passenger seat, talking softly with her dad about something randomāprobably to fill the silence. Youāre in the backseat next to Jimin.
Heās looking out the window.
His reflection in the glass looks calmā¦ but his hands give him away. They keep fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, tightening and loosening them over and over again.
Your fingers twitch. You want to reach over. You want to hold his hand and tell him itās okay. That nothingās changed. That youāre here.
Instead, you lace your own fingers together in your lap and turn your head toward the window too.
The school building comes into view.
The large blue sign stands tall at the front entrance, students already crowding the steps. Laughter. Lockers slamming. Teachers guiding traffic.
Mr. Park pulls up to the curb.
Maya is the first to open her door.
Then you.
You step out and adjust your bag on your shoulder.
But Jimin doesnāt move.
At everything waiting for him.
You walk back toward the car slightly and lean down so he can see you through the open door.
And he doesnāt say anything.
Not dramatic. Not panicked. Just quiet fear. Like heās asking, What if I canāt do this?
You give him the softest smile you can manage.
āCome on,ā you say gently. āIām here. Itās okay.ā
He studies your face for a second longer.
Then he smiles back ā small, but real.
The fear is still there in his eyes.
He closes the door, walks around the front, and exhales like heās bracing himself.
āLetās go,ā he says.
Maya comes up behind the two of you, smiling proudly at her brother.
Jimin starts walking first.
Youāre about to catch up when Mr. Park calls out from the driverās seat, window rolled down.
His expression is warm ā but worried.
āLook out for him,ā he says quietly.
His eyes carry the same fear Jiminās did.
āOf course,ā you reply with a reassuring smile.
With that, you turn and jog a little to catch up to them.
Jiminās shoulders are still slightly tense as he walks toward the entrance.
You move closer beside him.
But close enough that if he needs youā
The second you walk through the front doors, you feel it.
āHeās back.ā
āOh my God, I forgot about him.ā
āIs that really Jimin?ā
Heās looking around too. Trying to act normal. Trying to keep his face steady. But you know him. You see the way his jaw tightens. The way his shoulders lift just a little too high.
Before he can freeze up, you move.
You step closer and slip your arms around his.
āLetās go,ā you whisper quietly, grounding him.
He looks down at you for half a second ā grateful ā then nods.
Maya had already rushed off to her class, waving dramatically and yelling, āText me!ā before disappearing down the hallway.
Luckily, you and Jimin share first period.
You walk together down the hall, slower than usual but steady. Students continue to glance at him, some smiling, some just curious.
When you enter the classroom, conversations immediately quiet down.
The classroom goes quiet the second you both walk in.
Jimin doesnāt sit down.
He stays standing at the front beside the teacher, hands tucked into the straps of his backpack. You notice the way his fingers flex against the fabric ā tight, controlled.
Heās pretending heās not nervous.
The teacher smiles warmly.
āAs you all know, Jimin used to attend here before he went to study in the U.S. And now heās back with us.ā
For a split second, it feels too quiet.
You can almost hear his breathing from where you are sitting.
Jimin bows his head slightly. āHiā¦ itās good to be back.ā
His voice is steady ā but you know him. Thereās effort behind it.
Then someone from the back yells, āWelcome back, Jimin-ah!ā
Another voice follows. āWe missed you!ā
The room erupts into cheers and playful claps.
The kind that crinkles his eyes.
The tension in his shoulder's eases, just a little.
You feel yourself relax too.
The teacher gestures toward the empty seat beside you. āYou can sit there, Jimin.ā
He nods and finally walks down the aisle.
Each step seems more confident than the last.
When he reaches you, he slides into the chair next to yours. His arm brushes against yours for a second ā warm, solid, real.
āYou good?ā you whisper.
He nods once. āYeah.ā
But under the desk, his knee bounces slightly.
Without thinking too much about it, you nudge your leg gently against his to steady him.
And then he gives you the smallest smile.
And for the first time since this morning, you feel like maybe today wonāt be as hard as you thought.
Jimin settles into the seat beside you, still adjusting his notebook on the desk.
You try to focus on the lesson.
But you can feel the warmth of him next to you. The faint scent of his cologne. The way his knee had been bouncing earlier ā and how it stopped when you nudged him.
You glance at him once more.
neither of you notice the pair of eyes directly behind you.
From where heās sitting, he sees everything ā the slight lean of Jimin toward you, the way your voice softens when you whisper something to him, the way your shoulders relax around him in a way they never do around anyone else.
Especially not around him.
Jungkookās pen stills mid-sentence.
He doesnāt know Jimin. He doesnāt know the history. All he knows is that the entire class just cheered for this guy ā and youāre looking at him like heās something important.
Your leg nudging Jiminās.
Itās barely noticeable.
Something sharp twists in his chest.
Annoyance, he tells himself.
He leans back in his chair, jaw tight.
He doesnāt care who you talk to.
He doesnāt care who you sit with.
So why does his grip on his pen tighten when Jimin laughs quietly at something you say?
Why does he suddenly feel irritated?
His foot taps once against the leg of your chair without him meaning to.
You shift slightly at the movement.
And for a split second, Jungkook wonders if youāll turn around.
If youāll look at him the way you just looked at Jimin.
You gather your things, leaning closer to Jimin as you say something too quiet for Jungkook to hear.
The one Jungkook has never seen directed at him.
As you both stand, Jungkookās eyes flicker between your backs.
Confusion settles in his chest.
And why does it feel like he just walked into something he wasnāt supposed to see?
He doesnāt like the feeling.
And for the first time since transferringā
Jeon Jungkook isnāt thinking about grades or competting.
Heās thinking about you.
