The sky was still veiled in sleepy clouds. Damp leaves crunched beneath hurried feet. Birds chirped. Zippers zipped. Tents collapsed.

Everyone was getting ready to leave.

Backpacks were hoisted. Teachers barked orders. A few students yawned or laughed lazily.

But amid the chaos, Jungkook sat alone, perched on a rock beside the smoldering ashes of last night’s bonfire. His elbows rested on his knees, eyes lost somewhere in the dirt, dark circles shadowing his under-eyes.

His hair was a bit messy. His jacket half-zipped.

He looked — tired. Not just physically. Emotionally wrecked.

Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was Sera. Maybe it was himself.

He scoffed quietly, the sound bitter as he muttered under his breath:

"I was freaking out when she disappeared… calling her name like an idiot — and she didn’t even care."

“What kind of sister doesn’t care when her brother nearly goes crazy for her?”

He clenched his jaw.

His gaze drifted up… and landed on you.

A few feet away…

You stood stiff between Maria and Sera, like the last sane person trapped between two hurricanes. You hadn’t even brushed your hair yet and already—

"I’m walking with her." Maria crossed her arms tightly, shooting Sera a deadpan glare.

"No. She said I could help her pack her things." Sera pouted, already clutching your duffel bag like it was her pet.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Guys. Please. Just… breathe or something.”

“I am breathing,” Maria snapped, practically pressing herself to your side.

“You’re always with her! Stop acting like you own her,” Sera shot back, her voice lower, more venomous.

“Well at least I didn’t show up and act like a lost puppy to someone who doesn’t even like you back—”

“Stop it,” you said firmly, stepping between them. “I’m not doing this. Not today.”

“But she—!”

“But she—!”

You ignored both and turned your back to them, muttering, “I’m so done with this...”

Back to Jungkook…

He stood now, rubbing the back of his neck with an exhausted sigh.

His jacket slung lazily over one shoulder.

He watched you from a distance, saw Maria’s hand gripping your arm, saw Sera practically bouncing beside you.

His expression turned bitter.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath.

“Clinging to her like their lives depend on her... while pretending like I don’t exist.”

But no matter how frustrated he was — something still burned quietly inside him.

Something that had nothing to do with jealousy or anger.

Something that felt dangerously close to... worry.

His gaze lingered on you just a moment longer.

Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away.

The rain had long stopped, but the dampness clung to the air — like something unfinished.

Everyone was finally back on the bus, bags thrown into the storage below, students settling into their usual groups. Laughter and tired chatter filled the space… except for a few seats in the back.

You stepped onto the bus, still exhausted — mentally and physically.

Your head pounded faintly from everything.

And then it happened.

"YN, come sit here!" Maria called out, already patting the seat beside her like a clingy puppy.

"No, she said she'd sit with me this time," Sera cut in from across the aisle, her eyes locked on yours with hope, and that damn soft voice again.

You blinked, freezing mid-step.

Everyone nearby turned their heads, waiting to see who you’d pick.

You, in your oversized hoodie.

A headache pressing against your temples.

Too tired to care, but too caught in the middle to ignore.

You took a breath—

Then walked right past both of them.

Their eyes widened.

You didn’t sit beside Maria.

You didn’t sit beside Sera.

You kept walking… and dropped into a completely empty row three seats ahead.

Arms crossed. Eyes to the window.

"Don’t talk to me," your posture screamed.

"I’m done being the emotional tug-of-war."

The bus door hissed shut.

A Minute Later…

Jungkook stepped onto the bus.

His hoodie hood was up. His bag slung lazily over one shoulder.

His eyes scanned the back… stopped on Sera, who awkwardly patted the empty seat beside her with a weak smile.

He didn’t even acknowledge it.

His gaze swept over the rest of the students—until it landed on you.

Sitting alone.

Staring out the window like you’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then walked down the aisle… and sat in the row behind you.

Not beside Maria.

Not beside Sera.

Not beside anyone.

You could feel his presence — heavy, silent — like a storm that hadn’t yet broken.

He leaned his head back against the seat. No music. No book. No talking.

Just breathing.

You closed your eyes briefly.

And still... the weight of his gaze stayed on you.

Moments Pass. Then—

The bus jolted over a bump.

Your shoulder knocked lightly into the window.

You sighed and turned slightly, catching a glimpse of him through the reflection.

His eyes weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.

They were on you. Quietly. Intensely.

And for a second…

You didn’t look away.

Your eyes met in the reflection.

A tension thick enough to choke you both filled the air.

Neither of you said a word.

But somehow, everything was being said.

Jungkook’s POV

He slammed the door of his apartment shut and threw his bag to the side.

The silence was deafening.

His jaw clenched as he walked into the dim room.

The shadows were comforting. Unlike the chaos in his head.

"I was freaking out when she went missing. Sera. My own sister."

He tossed his hoodie onto the bed, rubbing his hands down his face.

And then there was you.

You — who fainted right in front of him.

You — whose face haunted him more than he’d like to admit.

"What the hell happened to her? Why did she look so… broken?"

And why did his heart drop when you wouldn’t even look at him after?

He turned to the window, leaning against the frame, watching the city lights blur.

“Why do you mess with my head like this, YN?”

“And why do I care this much?”

He didn’t have the answers.

So he lay down on the bed, arm over his eyes, and eventually drifted into sleep…

With your face the last thing on his mind.

Maria’s POV

She flopped onto her bed, still fully dressed, groaning into her pillow.

“That witch Sera clung to her the entire time,” she muttered angrily.

She turned to look at the ceiling.

“She picked neither of us on the bus. Just sat alone. What’s happening to her?”

Maria's eyes softened.

You weren’t just distant — you were shaken. Changed.

And she hated not knowing why.

“If something’s wrong, why won’t you just tell me, YN?”

“You always protect others... but who protects you?”

She hugged the pillow close.

And with those swirling thoughts and a heavy sigh, she finally closed her eyes.

Sera’s POV

She sat on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, her wet hair still clinging to her neck.

Her room was warm, safe — but her hands still trembled.

The memory of being alone in that forest…

The way you came for her.

How you hugged her.

How your voice cut through the fear.

“She really came… for me.”

“Even after everything… she saved me.”

Sera bit her lower lip.

And then Jungkook’s face appeared in her mind. The tight hug, the worried eyes.

“He really cares... but only when I’m broken?” she whispered bitterly.

A tear slid down her cheek.

Not because of the forest.

But because for the first time… she felt like she was losing both of you.

YN’s POV

You lay on your bed, freshly showered, hair still damp on the pillow.

The room was dim.

The memory from the shelter haunted you like a ghost.

The girl crying.

The thunder.

The words: "Don’t go anywhere, okay baby? I’ll be back."

Your chest tightened.

“Who was that?”

“Why does it feel like I know her?”

“And why does it feel like me?”

Your thoughts spun and spiraled.

Jungkook’s voice when he got angry. The way he looked at you when you fainted.

Sera’s hug. Maria’s scolding.

Too many pieces of a puzzle you didn’t even know existed.

You turned to your side, wrapping yourself in a blanket.

“Something’s coming. I feel it.”

And with one final shiver, your tired eyes finally shut —

the mystery crawling deeper into your dreams.

The day started like any other.

The lecture hall buzzed with hushed chatter as the professor wrote equations on the board. You and Maria were seated at your usual desk, notebooks open, pens moving in sync. Your eyes occasionally drifted to Jungkook — leaning back in his seat, half-listening to the lecture, smirking at something Jimin whispered beside him.

Everything felt… normal.

Too normal.

Lunchtime –

After lunch, Maria received a call and left early.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” she asked, hurriedly packing her things.

“Yeah, go,” you replied with a soft smile. “It’s just a lecture.”

Now alone, you took your tray and found a quiet corner in the cafeteria. The soft rustle of notebook pages and the clink of cutlery filled the air as you ate slowly, eyes flicking between your notes and the clock.

Eventually, your legs took you on a walk through the college.

You didn’t plan to.

But somehow, without thinking, you wandered past the usual buildings — beyond the main grounds, where the back wall of the college loomed, cracked and chipped from years of neglect.

That’s when you heard it.

Behind the Wall – Forbidden

Low, muffled voices. Laughter.

Something… off.

You took a step closer, curiosity tightening its grip on your gut. You peeked around the corner.

And froze.

There were four guys, clearly from your college — one from the basketball team, another you’d seen in the parking lot, always leaning against his bike.

They weren’t just talking.

They were hunched over, injecting, passing small plastic packets, crushing pills into fine dust. The air smelled metallic and wrong.

You gasped softly, hand covering your mouth.

But in your panic, your foot hit something.

CRASH.

An old trash bin toppled over, the noise echoing like a gunshot in the silence.

All four heads turned toward you.

“HEY!”

“Who the f*ck is that?!”

Your eyes widened in horror.

You turned to run— but a hand was already on your wrist.

“Run.”

Jungkook’s voice. Cold. Commanding. Dead serious.

You didn’t question him. Your feet moved on instinct as he pulled you with him, weaving through the narrow alley between buildings.

Behind you, the guys shouted—footsteps closing in.

You ran harder.

Your lungs burned. Your legs felt like lead. But Jungkook never let go. He was fast. Focused. Eyes locked ahead.

“There—car!” he growled.

He unlocked it mid-run, threw the door open, and shoved you inside.

Seconds later, he slammed into the driver’s seat, slammed the door—started the car.

ROAR.

The tires screeched as the car peeled out of the lot just as three bikes came into view.

“They’re chasing us!”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, one hand gripping the wheel, the other shifting gears as he accelerated—dodging past vehicles, taking sharp turns.

You gripped the seat.

Wind lashed against the window. Horns blared. The bike engines roared behind you, trying to catch up.

But Jungkook was fast.

Too fast.

The world became a blur of colors and noise.

Your hands trembled. Your heart thundered wildly.

And then—

A memory hit you.

A little girl.

Sobbing, curled up in the backseat of a speeding car.

Thunder in her ears. Wind. Screams. A crash of glass.

Her small hands covered her ears.

She cried silently.

That little girl… was you.

You clutched your chest. Breath faltering.

“N-no…”

“No, not now—”

Your vision swam. The car’s speed. The memory. It all came crashing together.

You couldn’t breathe.

You gasped, panicking, chest rising in ragged, uneven bursts. Your hands flew to Jungkook’s wrist.

“S-slow down… please… Jungkook… I-I—can’t… breathe…”

His head snapped toward you.

His expression—horrified.

“Shit. Y/N—hey. Look at me. Breathe. You’re okay.”

But he couldn't stop—not here. Not while those bikers were still tailing them.

He cursed under his breath and slammed the gear up, swerving onto a back road. You held onto the dashboard, tears in your eyes, fighting to stay conscious.

He drove in silence until the bikes were nowhere in sight.

Only then—he made his choice.

Jungkook slammed the brakes in front of a towering, steel-gated mansion nestled in the city’s richest district — tall trees lined the perimeter, cameras on every corner, and guards in black stationed silently like statues.

But he didn’t wait for formalities.

He turned to you — and his breath hitched.

You were barely conscious.

Your head leaned weakly against the seat, body trembling, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as silent tears slipped down your pale cheeks.

“Y/N... f*ck,” he muttered, voice cracking as he unbuckled your seatbelt.

He leapt out, yanked the door open, and without a second of hesitation, scooped you into his arms.

"Do you hear me?” he murmured urgently, his tone firm but shaken. “I got you.”

You weren’t speaking — just trembling, one hand gripping the front of his shirt, holding on like your body knew who kept you safe.

He pushed open the massive oak doors — the interior greeted him with chandeliers, dark marble floors, grand staircases, and minimalist elegance in every corner. The lights were dim, the silence thick.

“Master Jungkook?” A butler stepped forward, shocked to see him.

“Get a doctor. Now,” Jungkook barked, his voice sharp and low. “And prepare Warm blankets. Herbal teas. Everything.”

“Y-yes sir!”

He carried you up the stairs himself.

His steps were quick, controlled — but inside, he was panicking. He had never seen you like this. So broken. So small. So scared.

And the worst part?

You weren’t saying a word.

The room was warm and soft — cream tones, silk sheets, a flickering fireplace in the corner.

Jungkook laid you on the bed carefully, brushing the hair from your forehead.

“You’re okay now,” he whispered, his thumb gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “You’re safe here.”

But you didn’t respond.

You stared at the ceiling, lips quivering, a sob trapped in your throat. The image of speeding cars, crying girls, and dark figures haunted you.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, not expecting an answer.

You flinched as thunder rumbled outside. The sound made your entire body jolt. Your hands flew to your ears — just like the little girl in your memories — and Jungkook's heart shattered.

“Hey—hey, no,” he moved closer, grabbing your wrists gently. “It’s just a storm, Y/N. You’re not there anymore. You’re here. With me.”

Your eyes locked with his.

For a moment, all time froze. You could see the concern, the unspoken desperation, in his eyes. He wasn’t just trying to calm you — he was hurting seeing you like this.

Your voice finally broke through the silence — a whisper, raw and trembling.

“Why… why do I remember things that never happened?”

He paused.

That sentence—it pierced something inside him.

“What… do you remember?” he asked slowly.

But before you could answer—

Knock knock.

“Doctor’s here, sir,” the maid said from behind the door.

Jungkook closed his eyes, jaw tight. “Come in.”

He stood aside as the elderly private physician entered, checking your vitals while Jungkook stood there like a stone guardian—arms crossed, jaw clenched, shadows beneath his eyes.

“She’s suffering from acute panic trauma,” the doctor finally said. “Keep her warm. Avoid stress. Give her this for sleep if needed.”

Jungkook nodded. Of course he know it's obvious seeing her condition anyone can tell that.

After the doctor left, he stayed by your side in silence, sitting in a velvet armchair beside the bed.

You looked at him through half-closed eyes.

“Why… are you helping me?” you whispered.

He stared into the fire for a second.

Then his voice came, low and hollow.

“Because I know what it feels like to be haunted… by something you don’t even remember.”

The air in Jungkook’s room was tense but still warm — quiet, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall and your uneven breaths. You were wrapped in a soft blanket, finally calming down after the panic attack earlier. Jungkook sat beside you on the edge of the bed, watching you closely, his expression unreadable.

Then—

SLAM.

The door flew open.

“Jungkook-ah!”

His mother’s voice echoed like a thunderclap through the room.

Both your heads snapped toward the doorway, your heart lurching into your throat. Mrs. Jeon stood there, wide-eyed, staring between the two of you. Her gaze dropped to the blanket around your shoulders, your pale face, your trembling hands—and then flicked to her son.

“There’s a girl in your bedroom?! Are you dating her?!”

Jungkook groaned.

“Mom—no! It’s not what you think.”

You blinked, eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat.

“What?! No! I’m not his girlfriend—God, no—”

“You never brought any girl home!” she said dramatically, walking into the room with exaggerated hand gestures. “Not once! You didn’t even let Sera’s friends near your side of the house! And now this—this girl—who are you?!”

Your frustration boiled over.

“Ma’am,” you said, standing up despite your weak legs, “I was in trouble. He helped me. He didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m sorry for intruding.”

Jungkook stood up beside you, annoyed.

“Can you not treat her like some stranger barging in? She passed out, Mom. I didn’t know where else to take her.”

Mrs. Jeon opened her mouth to say something else—then paused. Her sharp expression softened as she looked at you more carefully now.

“Wait… what’s your name?” she asked.

“Y/N,” you answered warily.

Her eyes lit up. A surprised smile spread across her lips, eyes twinkling with something close to joy.

“Y/N?! You’re Y/N?!”

You blinked again.

“Yes…?”

She gasped, holding her cheeks dramatically.

“Oh my goodness! Sera talks about you all the time! All the time! ‘Y/N this, Y/N that, Y/N helped me today,’—this is the girl! This is you!”

Jungkook looked just as surprised as you were.

“She talks about Y/N that much?”

Mrs. Jeon nodded eagerly, walking closer to you now, her earlier suspicion gone like mist.

“Every night. I swear, I was starting to think she made you up—you were like this perfect angel in her little stories! The only one who’s ever gotten through to her. She adores you.”

You were speechless.

She clasped her hands together.

“Oh, now I am happy. I’m sorry for freaking out earlier, Y/N. I was just shocked. Jungkook doesn’t even let me into his room most days, let alone bring a girl here.”

Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“Because you overreact like this…”

She waved him off, still smiling at you.

“I’m glad you’re here, dear. And I’m glad my son had the sense to help you.”

For a moment, it was silent again—this time, peaceful.

Then Mrs. Jeon pointed a finger at Jungkook and added with a teasing grin—

“But next time you bring a girl home, at least tell me before I walk in expecting to see laundry and instead find this!”

Jungkook sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed softly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeon. And… I’m sorry for the scare.”

“Call me Eomma,” she said warmly. “You already have a place here.”

Your heart softened.

Jungkook looked at her, then at you—and for a moment, something tender passed through his gaze. Something unspoken. Something that even you didn’t notice… but his mother did.

And in her mind, she quietly noted—

This girl… might just be the one.

Your heart… melted.

The words “Call me Eomma… you already have a place here” echoed in your mind with a strange kind of warmth you weren’t ready for. Weren’t used to.

A strange pressure began to form behind your eyes — hot, blurry, and overwhelming.

Why did that hurt so much to hear?

You blinked quickly, trying to push it back — those tears you weren’t ready to let anyone see. But it was already too late.

Jungkook saw it. His mother saw it too, though she only tilted her head in soft concern.

But Jungkook — his gaze sharpened immediately. He straightened beside you, subtly moving just a bit closer.

He knew that look.

He’d seen it once before — in the mirror.

Your lips parted, and you tried to smile, to play it off. But no words came out.

Mrs. Jeon was about to ask you something when—

“Alright, Mom,” Jungkook cut in smoothly, stepping in between just slightly. “She needs to rest. You’ve overwhelmed her enough for one night.”

You exhaled quietly. Grateful. He knew.

Mrs. Jeon blinked. “Oh—oh yes, of course! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to go on and on—” She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Please rest well, sweetheart. You’re safe here.”

You nodded, your voice finally returning.

“Thank you… truly.”

She gave a warm nod, then excused herself and closed the door softly behind her.

The room was quiet again.

You still didn’t meet Jungkook’s eyes. You didn’t want him to see the last remnants of that crack. That vulnerable thread pulled too tight.

But he didn’t press.

Instead, he sighed, walked over to the cabinet, and casually muttered—

“My mom’s going to start planning your wedding dress at this point.”

You let out a breath—half gasp, half laugh.

“What?!”

He turned with the faintest smirk, handing you a glass of water like it was nothing.

“Just saying… it’s not every day she tells someone to call her Eomma.”

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your chest softened. The ache dulled.

Jungkook always knew just how to shift the weight before it crushed you.

And in that moment — maybe, just maybe — you were starting to see what Sera saw in him too.

Sera skipped her way into the Jeon mansion, tossing her bag onto the couch and humming softly from a surprisingly good day at college. But before she could head toward the kitchen, her mother called out from the hallway, drying her hands with a towel.

“Sera—guess who’s here?”

She paused. Turned slowly, brows scrunched. “Who?”

Mrs. Jeon beamed. “Y/N. Jungkook brought her here. She’s upstairs.”

The smile dropped off Sera’s face, replaced by stunned silence. Her mouth opened slightly—like the words were there, but refusing to come out.

“W-What?” she gasped. “Y/N? Here?! In our house?”

Her mother nodded casually. “Yes. poor girl looked like she was about to faint when they arrived. Jungkook said she wasn’t feeling well and needed rest.”

But Sera wasn’t listening anymore.

She sprinted up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time.

“Y/N’s here?! In our house?! In Jungkook oppa's room?!”

Her mind raced faster than her feet. Her heart pounded as the idea formed: Y/N… was in his room? Sleeping?

Her hand reached for the doorknob—

“Yah—Sera.”

A deep voice stopped her right before she could twist it open.

Jungkook stepped out from the hallway shadows, leaning against the wall near the door with arms crossed, expression unreadable but protective.

“Don’t. She’s sleeping.”

Sera halted, eyes wide. “But—But I—”

“She’s exhausted. Don’t wake her.”

She bit her bottom lip, looking torn between exploding with joy and collapsing from nerves.

Jungkook shook his head slowly, gently but firmly.

“Later. She needs rest more than anything.”

Sera pouted, then slowly nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes as she glanced at the door longingly.

“Is she… okay?”

Jungkook looked at the door for a second. His gaze softened a little.

“No,” he murmured. “But she will be.”

It was already dark when your eyes fluttered open. The room was dimly lit by a soft golden lamp in the corner, casting a gentle glow over the room's expensive décor. For a moment, you forgot where you were… until you slowly sat up and realized you weren’t home.

Jungkook’s room.

Your heart skipped slightly.

The events of the day flooded back—the chase, the panic, the speed, the tears, the exhaustion. You had fallen asleep wrapped in that storm, but now you felt… calm. Still heavy, but calmer.

You stepped out of bed, your legs slightly wobbly. You rubbed your temple and glanced at your reflection in the mirror by the door. Still pale, still tired… but better than before.

Carefully, you stepped out into the hallway, heading down the staircase. That’s when you truly saw the mansion.

It was stunning.

Grand chandeliers draped in warm crystals hung from high ceilings. The staircase was carved with golden accents on deep wood railings. The living area below looked like something out of a magazine—pristine sofas, glossy marbled floors, and velvet drapes flowing down massive windows. Expensive paintings adorned the walls, and warm amber lighting made the place feel alive, not cold.

You caught yourself admiring a sculpture near the hallway, fingers gently brushing its smooth edge when suddenly—

“Y/N!!!”

Before you could turn around, you were wrapped—tightly—in a familiar embrace.

Sera.

“You're finally awake!! I’ve been waiting all evening for you!”

She squealed against your shoulder, her arms locked tight around your waist like you might disappear again.

You blinked, surprised, but couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at your lips. Despite everything… it felt nice. To be missed like this.

“Sera—breathe,” you whispered with a soft laugh.

“No! I was worried sick,” she whined, pulling back only to hold your face. “You scared me. And then you were in his room! I thought I was dreaming!”

You laughed faintly at her dramatic expression, gently pulling her hands down.

“I’m okay now. Just tired.”

Sera’s expression softened immediately, her bubbly tone fading into genuine concern.

“You sure? No headache? No weird dreams?”

You paused, the image of the crying little girl flickering in your mind for a second—but you pushed it away.

“Nothing I can handle.”

She looked at you for a long moment, then suddenly grabbed your hand.

“Come. You haven’t eaten all day. And my mom’s already head over heels for you.”

“Wait, what?” you blinked as she began dragging you toward the dining room.

“Yeah! She’s obsessed. Keeps saying ‘So this is the Y/N my Sera always talks about’ and I was like yes, mom, don’t embarrass me—”

You let her chatter take you away for a moment, your gaze flickering once more toward the grand hallway you had just admired.

You were still overwhelmed.

Still confused.

Still haunted.

But right now… you were also being held. Protected. Fed. Not by blood, but by people who chose to.

And maybe… just maybe… you weren’t as alone as you thought.

You followed Sera down the hall, her arm hooked with yours like she had no intention of letting you escape again. She was practically bouncing with energy.

The mansion looked even more breathtaking in the evening light—soft yellow chandeliers casting golden halos across the marble floors, the delicate scent of sandalwood floating in the air. But all that faded when your eyes fell on the large dining table at the center of the room.

And the man sitting at the head of it.

You froze mid-step.

Your breath hitched as you recognized him instantly.

Mr. Jeon Sangwoo.

The Trustee of your college.

The CEO of the JK Group.

The man whose face was on magazine covers, business panels, and finance news broadcasts.

And Jungkook’s father.

You blinked fast, your lips parting slightly in stunned silence.

As if sensing your hesitation, Sera looked back and whispered, "Don't panic, he's cool."

You bowed respectfully, your voice slightly hesitant but polite.

"Good evening, sir."

The man looked up from his glass of wine and his sharp, charismatic features softened.

“Ah… So you’re Y/N. The famous name I keep hearing about from my daughter.”

He smiled gently and waved toward the seat beside Sera.

“Please, join us for dinner.”

You hesitated—but only for a second before Sera tugged you forward and made you sit between her and Jungkook.

You could feel Jungkook glance at you, but you kept your eyes down, still stunned. Sera was already piling food onto your plate like you were royalty, ignoring how your brain was still processing everything.

Then, Mr. Jeon spoke again, sipping from his glass.

“I must admit, I don’t know much about you personally, but from what I hear… Sera speaks very highly of you. And I hear you and Jungkook are quite the rivals.”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach.

Oh no. He’s going to sell me out—

“In fact…” he added with a chuckle, “…I like you. Not many people have the guts to stand toe to toe with my son. And from what I gather—you do it often.”

Your eyes shot up in disbelief.

You expected disapproval.

But he was… smiling?

“Really?” Jungkook gasped, his fork dropping slightly. “Dad—how can you say that? You’re siding with the girl who fights your own son every other day?!”

“Come on,” Sera rolled her eyes dramatically, “You’re the one who always starts it. Don’t act like a victim here.”

“I don’t start it!” Jungkook turned to her, exasperated. “She gives me attitude for existing!”

“That’s because your existence is irritating sometimes!”

You blinked.

What… was happening?

They bickered across you like two children at recess while their father sipped wine like he’d seen this all before. You sat frozen, your fork halfway to your mouth, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or slide under the table.

You looked from Jungkook—dramatically sulking with a pout—to Sera, gleefully teasing him like this was her favorite hobby.

"Umm..." you whispered to no one in particular, "...what did I just walk into?"

Mr. Jeon laughed warmly.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Welcome to the family chaos. It’s always like this.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the fork at that word.

Family.

You stared down at your plate, feeling something unfamiliar stir in your chest. A strange tightness. A longing. A quiet ache.

This wasn’t your home. These weren’t your people.

But for one moment—it almost felt like it could be.

The dining room echoed with laughter and playful arguments until everyone had their fill of food, dessert, and teasing remarks. Plates were cleared, wine glasses emptied, and yet… none of the warmth faded.

As you placed your napkin down, your voice cut through the noise gently but firmly.

“Thank you for the dinner. I should get going now.”

The entire table went quiet.

Sera blinked at you, fork still in her hand.

“W–what? But it’s already late.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, leaning back in his chair. “And your place is like thirty minutes away.”

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow. Mrs. Jeon gently placed her hand over yours.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” she said warmly, “why don’t you stay tonight? We’d be happy to have you. It’s not safe out this late… and besides, it’s been a long day.”

You opened your mouth to refuse, but the softness in her tone—and the genuine concern in her eyes—made your voice falter.

Then Sera clasped both your hands tightly.

“Please stay! Please, please, please! I’ll sleep better if you’re here!”

You let out a breath, defeated by all three of them at once.

“Alright… just for tonight.”

Sera let out a squeal of joy and instantly pulled you to your feet.

“You’re sleeping in my room! I’ll show you everything! My photo albums, my high school diaries, my dumb fashion phases—everything!”

You looked back with a soft chuckle as she dragged you away. Jungkook was still at the table, watching silently, one arm resting lazily on the back of his chair, an unreadable look on his face.

In Sera’s Room

Her room was a riot of pastels, fairy lights, plush toys, and chaos. The second you stepped in, she was already pulling open drawers and flipping through albums.

“This was me in eighth grade—ugh, don’t judge! And this one? That’s Jungkook in his vampire phase—black eyeliner and everything!”

You laughed despite yourself, settling on her fluffy bed as she bounced beside you, flipping through memories like flipping through pages of a storybook.

“You know…” she said softly, curling her legs under her, “…I always wished for someone like you. I mean, friends are fine, but you… you listen to me. Even when I talk too much.”

Your heart melted, and something warm spread across your chest.

Then—your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Maria.

Video call.

Your hand hovered over the screen, unsure. You didn’t really want to talk. Not after today. Not in front of Sera.

But before you could decide, Sera snatched the phone with a mischievous grin.

“Ooooh who’s calling? Is this a secret boyfriend? Wait—Maria?”

She answered before you could stop her.

The screen blinked—and Maria’s worried face appeared.

“Y/N! Where were you?! You didn’t answer my messages, are you oka—”

Her voice cut off as she saw Sera grinning into the camera.

“Hi Mariaaaa~ Guess what? She’s sleeping over at my house tonight! And she had dinner with my whole family—my mom loves her!”

You stiffened.

Maria’s expression faltered for just a second.

You could see it—the flash of something behind her eyes.

Jealousy?

Worry?

Possessiveness?

“Oh…” she said tightly, forcing a smile. “That’s… great.”

You reached forward, gently taking the phone back.

“I’m fine, Maria. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure,” she said quietly. “Goodnight.”

The call ended.

You sighed.

Sera tilted her head, clearly picking up the shift in energy.

“She’s… really protective of you, huh?”

You didn’t answer. Because you weren’t sure what to say.

Meanwhile, In Jungkook’s Room

He tossed his hoodie on the chair and flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was still full of murmurs and laughter—but none of it came from his room.

And it shouldn’t bother him.

But it did.

“First visit,” he muttered to himself. “First dinner. And they already act like she’s part of the family.”

He scoffed.

“What does she have anyway?”

But the bitterness didn’t last long.

Because deep down, he knew.

You weren’t like the others. You never tried to impress them. Never wore masks. You fought him, challenged him, stood your ground—even when it cost you.

And maybe, just maybe…

He didn’t mind you being here either.

The moonlight shimmered over the still water like liquid glass. The house behind you was quiet, its grand walls hiding everyone else in their dreams. Everyone… except you.

You sat on the cold stone edge of the pool, legs dipped into the water, arms resting around your knees. The silence of the night didn’t calm your nerves—it amplified the noise inside your head.

Your heart still hadn’t slowed.

Your chest still ached from earlier.

Your breath had returned, but the panic was lurking in the shadows—waiting.

And the memory... the flash…

That little girl in the speeding car, her screams…

Her face. Why did you feel like you knew her?

You closed your eyes. But instead of peace, there was more static.

Meanwhile, Jungkook trudged down the hallway toward the kitchen, bare-footed, hoodie sleeves rolled up as he scratched the back of his neck sleepily.

He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, twisting the cap with a yawn—when a flicker of movement outside caught his eye through the glass wall.

He froze.

His gaze focused—and his brows furrowed.

There you were, illuminated by the moonlight. Sitting still. Alone. Legs dangling in water like a child lost in thought… or pain.

Jungkook stood for a moment, bottle still in hand.

Then he moved.

You didn’t react at first. You were too lost. But his voice, low and calm, cut through the haze.

“You know… some people sleep under roofs, not the stars.”

You blinked and turned slightly, startled but not scared.

Jungkook approached slowly, bottle in hand, stopping a step away from you. The concern in his gaze wasn’t disguised anymore.

“You couldn’t sleep,” he said—more a fact than a question.

You nodded slightly.

“Yeah. New place and Can’t really pretend today didn’t happen.”

He didn’t sit right away—just watched you.

Then, quietly:

“That moment in the car... when I was driving. What happened to you?”

Your breath caught.

His eyes stayed on yours, sharp but soft. He wasn’t accusing. He wasn’t demanding. He was asking.

But you couldn’t answer that. Not because you didn’t want to—

Because you didn’t know.

You swallowed hard and looked away.

“Nothing,” you whispered.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“Y/N…”

“I said it was nothing.”

There was a pause—just a split second of silence—but in it, everything shifted.

Jungkook let out a soft scoff under his breath, turning his face toward the pool. Not out of anger. Out of disbelief.

Because what he saw in that car was not nothing.

The way your body had crumbled.

The tears.

The way you gasped for air like you were drowning.

“That wasn’t nothing,” he said quietly, still not looking at you now. “I’ve seen people break before. I know what that looks like. And that... wasn’t nothing.”

You didn’t reply.

The moonlight was cold against your skin.

The water rippled beneath your feet.

“But,” he added, voice lowering, “I won’t push.”

You looked at him then—really looked.

His profile in the soft glow, jaw clenched, throat shifting slightly as he swallowed emotion he didn’t speak out loud.

“just don't bottled up” he said.

And that…

That hit different.

Your throat tightened. Your nails dug slightly into your arms as you hugged yourself. You didn’t know why—but the way he said it, the restraint, the unspoken patience in it…

It felt like safety.

You slowly nodded, just once.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

Jungkook finally sat beside you, feet in the water too. Not close. Not far. Just… enough.

He handed you the water bottle.

You took it.

And the silence after that wasn’t heavy anymore. It was shared.

You stared at the water, the bottle in your hand trembling ever so slightly as your voice came out—flat, guarded.

“And why do you think I’ll tell you?”

Jungkook stilled beside you. The air around you, which had been quiet but tolerable, suddenly thickened.

Your words weren’t loud. But they cut.

He slowly turned his head, watching your profile under the silver moonlight—your face calm, lips slightly parted, but your eyes... your eyes burned with something sharp. Pain wrapped in defiance.

You weren’t being cruel.

You were protecting yourself.

And he could see it.

Jungkook’s tongue rested against his cheek for a moment before he exhaled through his nose.

“I don’t,” he said simply.

You blinked.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t expect you to tell me anything,” he clarified, his tone even but edged with something quieter. “People don’t owe their pain to others. Not even to the ones trying to care.”

That surprised you.

You turned toward him, brows slightly raised.

“Then why ask?”

He met your gaze now. Steady. Calm.

“Because I was there. Because I saw what happened. And ignoring it would make me a coward.”

You felt that in your chest.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.

“But don’t get it twisted,” he said, voice lower now, “I’m not trying to be your hero.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his dark eyes focused on the moonlit ripples ahead.

“I just know what it’s like... to keep everything locked up inside until it eats you alive.”

A beat of silence.

Your throat tightened. You hated how your heart responded to his words—how they sounded too close to your own thoughts. You didn’t want to relate to him.

And yet, there was a strange comfort in how he wasn’t asking to fix you.

Just see you.

You turned your head away, but your voice came out softer this time.

“I don’t trust people easily.”

He let out a breath that could’ve been a laugh—or something sadder.

“Good. Neither do I.”

You glanced at him again, lips parting to say something… but nothing came.

Jungkook stood up then, brushing off his sweatpants casually.

“I’m not here to make you spill your secrets, Y/N.”

He looked down at you, gaze unreadable but... gentle.

“I just don’t like seeing you break while pretending you’re not.”

And with that, he turned to leave.

You watched his back as he walked toward the house, the shadows swallowing him up slowly.

And for a moment, you hated how your chest ached.

Not from pain.

But from the warmth of being seen.

Something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

To be continued...