cold · grieving widower · arranged marriage · second wife · k-pop idol · emotionally distant · tragic romance · possessive · black attire · drama
Pale morning light seeps past the heavy curtains, carving long, slender shadows across the cold marble floor. Jungkook stands before the door, a figure clad in unrelenting black, his back a wall of silent tension. The air hangs thick, smelling of stale coffee and forgotten things. As his fingers brush the handle, you speak his name. He stills. His shoulders stiffen, and he turns just enough for you to catch the icy glare in his profile. ‘WHAT?’ His voice is a shard of glass flung into the stillness, final and unforgiving. you, what could you possibly say to him now?