You stood by the counter, cradling a warm cup of coffee between your hands. The sting in your eyes hadn’t left, the ache in your chest still too sharp from hours ago when you’d walked home in the pouring rain, soaked and abandoned. The sound of the doorbell pulled you from your thoughts, making you frown as you wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

With a slow, wary breath, you pulled the door open — and froze.

Jungkook stood there, soaked and disheveled, a bandage wrapped across his forehead, another around his hand. He was panting, chest rising and falling sharply, worry burning in his dark, bloodshot eyes. Before you could say a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight, desperate hug.

“I'm so sorry,” he choked out, voice shaking as he buried his face into your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry… I didn’t mean to leave you. I was coming back, I promise… I–” His voice broke, muffled by the warmth of your skin.

You felt your knees weaken, the sting of fresh tears rushing to your eyes. The sight of him, battered and wounded, holding onto you like he’d lost the world, shook every piece of your heart. Slowly, you lifted your hands, brushing them over the bandage at the back of his head, brushing raindrops from the side of his jaw.

“Jungkook… what happened?” you breathed, voice wavering.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing a thumb across your damp cheek, guilt and love warring in those deep, tired eyes. “I went to get roasted corn for you,” he confessed hoarsely. “Then a kid… and a car… I’m okay, I just–”

He shook his head, swallowing hard as he pressed closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I’m sorry for making you cry. You’re the only one I wanted to get back to tonight.”

The sting in your chest bubbled over as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight, shaking as you buried your face in the warmth of his chest. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of the night and the warmth of the boy you loved, nothing else mattered. Not the cold. Not the hurt. Not the wait.

All that mattered was that he came back for you — and that you were right where he belonged.

The moment you pulled back enough to really see him — the bandages, the faint sting of dried blood near the edge, the exhausted slump of his shoulders — the dam inside you broke completely.

“Jungkook… you idiot,” you choked out, voice wavering as fresh tears bubbled up. “Why… why didn’t you stay in the hospital?”

But before he could answer, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around him like a koala, burying your face deep in the warm fabric of his shirt. The sound that came out of you was half sob, half whine — soft and broken. You tightened your grip, rising on tiptoe as if holding him closer could somehow erase every moment of fear and loneliness you’d felt that day.

He sank down a step to hold you better, brushing a hand down your spine as you shook in his arms. “Shhh, it’s okay, princess,” he whispered hoarsely, brushing a kiss to the crown of your head despite the sting in his own body. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

But you refused to let go. “You came… like this,” you hiccupped, brushing trembling fingers over the bandage on his hand and brushing your forehead to his chest. “You came for me. Even when you’re hurt…”

He tightened his hold, pressing his nose into your hair as a faint smile curved across his tired, bandaged face. “Always,” he promised quietly. “I’ll always come back to you. No matter what.”

With that, you held him tighter, resting your ear against the beating of his heart. The sound was strong and real — the sound of him choosing, every time, to come home to you. And in that moment, through the sting of tears and the warmth of each breath exchanged, it felt like the world had narrowed down to one simple, irreplaceable truth:

He was yours. And you were his. Always.

After a long moment of just holding him, you pulled away enough to guide him inside, brushing a hand down the side of his bandaged head. “Come,” you said quietly, voice still shaking but firm. “Let me clean you up.”

He gave a faint, exhausted smile, brushing the tip of your nose with a finger as if to tease you. “My stubborn nurse,” he said, voice warm despite the sting of pain in his ribs.

You ignored the tease and tugged him toward the couch, brushing hair out of his tired eyes as you sank down beside him. You pulled out a small first-aid kit and set it on the table, hands trembling slightly as you dampened a cloth. Carefully, you wiped away the dried blood near the edge of his bandage, brushing your fingers down the strong line of his jaw when he winced.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” you whispered, brushing a soft kiss to the spot just above the bandage as you worked.

Jungkook watched you the whole time, leaning into every tender touch, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite how exhausted he was. “You’re scolding me even when you’re quiet,” he said lowly, brushing his thumb across the back of your hand. “I can hear it.”

You glanced up, a faint pout resting on your quivering lips. “Of course I am,” you said quietly. “You came running to me from the hospital like a madman. Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

He sighed softly, brushing hair out of your damp lashes before pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his. “I couldn’t leave you worrying anymore, princess,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I promised I’d be back, and… nothing was going to stop me.”

The sting returned to your eyes, and you sank closer, brushing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Then promise me you’ll rest tonight… and let me stay right here with you.”

A slow, soft smile curved across his tired face as he pulled you down beside him, resting his head in the curve of your shoulder. “That’s one promise I can always keep,” he replied, brushing a kiss to your palm before letting his eyes slip shut.

In that quiet space — surrounded by soft breathing and warm embraces — you both felt it. The sting of the day, the distance, the pain of moments apart… they all gave way to this one truth:

Through every storm, every scar, every beat of a tired heart… you belonged to each other. And that was enough.

You watched him, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling as you gazed down at the boy who refused to let the world win, refused to stay down when it came to you. He was exhausted, wrapped in bandages, voice hoarse and soft — and yet, in this moment, he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He looked so adorable, so loveable, so kissable, that you couldn’t resist anymore.

With a quiet breath, you cupped his jaw, brushing your thumb across the stubble of his skin, and leaned down, pressing your lips to his. It wasn’t a fiery kiss — it was soft, slow, deep, a whisper of affection that spoke every word you hadn’t said aloud.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut instantly, a soft hum escaping him as he sank into it, responding like a man starved for this warmth. His hand rose, brushing the curve of your waist, and soon, with a soft, low sound, he was leaning closer, pressing you down into the couch with utmost care.

Even injured, even exhausted, every line of him spoke of devotion — brushing the tip of his nose across yours before capturing your mouth again, this one deep enough to make you forget every sting and ache. The faint pressure of his body, the warmth of him hovering over you, felt like home.

He broke the kiss only to rest his forehead against yours, brushing a kiss to the tip of your nose and whispering hoarsely, “I’m okay as long as I have you. You’re all I ever need, princess.”

And in that moment, wrapped in each other, every pain, every worry felt a little further away. What remained was this quiet warmth, this beating heart pressed to another, and a love strong enough to carry you both — no matter the storm.

The end...