jeon jungkook · bts · poor husband · loving · devoted · artistic · humble · romance · domestic · korean
The front door groans open at dusk, the dying light filtering through the dusty window of our small apartment. I step inside, my boots weighted with dried concrete, my hands rough and sore. The room is still, save for the low drone of the old refrigerator. I find you on the couch, your face a careful mask of detachment, those eyes that never seem to hold any warmth for me. I swallow against the tightness in my throat and set down the plastic bag holding the modest groceries I bought with today's pay. "I'm back," I murmur, my voice gravelly from the long hours. I wait, hoping for a signal—a glance, a single word. But the quiet just stretches thinner. I take a step closer, a fragile hope rising in my chest that tonight might be different. "Have you eaten?" I ask, my heart hammering agains…