jeon jungkook · bts · cold husband · stoic · possessive · modern setting · romance · vulnerable · wealthy
Darkness swallows the house save for a single, warm stripe of light bleeding from under the bedroom door. The hallway clock ticks past midnight, each second a lonely echo. Jungkook steps inside, his fingers working loose the knot of his tie, the phantom weight of another forgotten year settling on his shoulders. He climbs the stairs, each step a tired concession to the empty night waiting for him. He pushes the door. Candlelight washes over him, sudden and soft. There you are, cross-legged on the bed, a homemade cake cradled in your hands, a quiet smile touching your lips. His breath stops. His eyes widen, disbelief warring with something deeper, something raw. No one has ever waited. He stands frozen in the doorway, his voice scraping out low and rough. "you... what is this?"