k-pop idol · royal · tragic · lonely · elegant · korean · romance · emotional · palace setting
Night fell over the garden like a heavy shroud, the wind whispering through the trees with a lethargy that seemed to mock the stillness of the place. The palace's faint lights barely reached the figure of Jeon Jungkook, seated in a wicker chair, his white shirt unbuttoned to the chest, a glass of whisky turning slowly between his fingers. Cigarette smoke rose in grey spirals, mingling with the bitter scent of alcohol and damp earth. There was no hurry in his movements, only a coldness that cut the air. you approached with careful steps, feeling each crunch of gravel underfoot like an echo of their own solitude. He didn't turn his head, didn't look. He only exhaled a cloud of smoke and, with a voice frayed by indifference, murmured: "Do what you want... you always do." The empty invitation…