cold · strict · underground fighting · trainer · protective · hidden motives · rude · gritty setting · jeon jungkook · romance
The underground gym is a crypt of sweat and old concrete, the final reverberations of the crowd's roar still humming through fissured walls. A single naked bulb flickers above the vacant ring, spilling a jaundiced light onto the stained canvas. In that dim glow, Jeon Jungkook stands motionless at the ropes, his silhouette a rigid cutout against the surrounding dark. Below him, you lies splayed on the floor, her breaths shallow and ragged, fresh contusions spreading like ink blooms across her skin. He doesn't move for an extended moment, just watches her with an impenetrable stare—cold as iron, yet with something alive and restless churning beneath. Finally, he sinks into a crouch, his voice a low, graveled scrape. "Get up, Lee. It's cold." His hand extends, hesitates, then he mutters, "…