Jungkook hadn’t moved an inch in the last two hours. He sat at your bedside, one hand wrapped tightly around yours, the other gently brushing away strands of hair sticking to your fever-slick forehead. His jaw was tight, his eyes stormy—anger simmering under the crushing weight of worry. Every minute felt like an eternity as he watched your chest rise and fall, shallow and uneven.

Why don’t you ever listen? he thought bitterly. I told you not to push yourself. I warned you. And still…

When you finally stirred, a soft whimper leaving your lips, Jungkook’s entire body froze. His grip on your hand tightened instantly.

“YN…” his voice cracked, hushed but desperate.

You blinked, heavy lids fluttering open. The dim light of the room blurred at first, but then his face came into focus—sharp features etched with worry, eyes rimmed red as if he hadn’t looked away from you once.

“Jungkook…” your voice was weak, barely audible.

His throat bobbed. Relief washed over his expression, but it didn’t mask the anger burning beneath. He cupped your face with trembling hands, thumbs ghosting over your clammy cheeks.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to yourself?” his voice was low but harsh, quivering with restrained fury. “I told you not to pressure your brain, not to drag yourself into the past… but you never listen. You just—” his voice broke off, teeth sinking into his lip as if he was stopping himself from yelling.

You looked away guiltily, your throat too dry to answer. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but Jungkook didn’t let you turn away. He gently tilted your chin back to face him, his eyes dark and furious—but also unbearably soft.

“I can’t…” his breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours. “I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself like this. Do you understand? You’ll kill yourself before you get your answers, and I—” his voice cracked, thick with emotion. “I won’t survive that. Not you, YN.”

Your eyes welled, your lips parting to say something—but your throat refused words. Instead, only a shaky breath escaped.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over the tears sliding down your cheeks. His jaw was still clenched, his tone firm even as his voice trembled:

“Don’t ever do this again. Don’t you ever push yourself like this again. I won’t forgive you if you do.”

And yet, in the way his hand refused to leave your face, the way his lips hovered near your temple as though he was afraid you’d disappear—his anger was nothing but care wrapped in fear.

You sat up with a sudden jerk, ignoring how your head spun. Jungkook instantly tried to steady you, but you shoved his hands away, your voice sharp and raw:

“Don’t care about me!” you snapped, your chest heaving. “I told you before—you don’t have to think about me! Why do you always do this, Jungkook? Why do you always… act like I’m your responsibility?”

His eyes widened, startled at the sudden shift. He froze, jaw tightening, but you weren’t done—you couldn’t stop yourself.

“You should’ve left me where I was. You should’ve ignored me, like everyone else does! Stop protecting me, stop saving me, stop hovering around me like I’m some fragile thing that can’t breathe without you. I don’t need it. I don’t need you!”

Your voice cracked on the last word, your eyes blazing with unshed tears. Each word you threw at him was one you didn’t truly mean, but they poured out like venom, the only way you knew to release the storm inside your chest.

Jungkook flinched as though you’d slapped him, but his fists only clenched at his sides. His breathing grew heavier, his eyes narrowing—not in coldness, but in a hurt you couldn’t bear to see.

“You think I asked for this?” you went on, choking on your words. “You think I wanted you to come into my life and chain yourself to me? I didn’t ask you to care, Jungkook! I didn’t ask you to ruin yourself trying to fix me!”

Your voice broke now, a sob clawing its way out. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

The silence after your yell was deafening. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, tears streaming freely now. Jungkook stared at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard, his knuckles white from how tightly his fists curled.

Your body trembled, fever still burning through you, but your tongue was sharper than the pain. The words poured out recklessly, unfiltered, like shards of glass cutting both of you.

“You don’t have to think about me! Why are you always doing this, Jungkook? Why do you keep caring, keep holding on when I never asked for it?”

Your heart screamed the opposite, but your mouth betrayed you. The weight of his dark gaze pressed into you, but you went on, desperate to wound him before he could wound you.

And then… the words slipped out. Words you never meant, words you never even thought you’d say, words that cracked something inside you the second they left your lips:

“Let’s end our relationship. Just divorce me, Jungkook!!”

The room fell silent. Time froze.

Jungkook didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. For one heartbeat, he stood completely still, as if your words had pierced through every wall he had. But then—his patience, his restraint, the iron grip he’d held on his emotions all this time—shattered.

Without thinking, without hesitation, he strode across the room in long, furious strides. His hand gripped your arm, pulling you forward with a force that left you gasping. His body collided with yours, the air around him burning with unspoken rage, fear, and desperation.

Before you could even form another word, his mouth crashed onto yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It was raw, punishing, desperate—a kiss born out of fury and heartbreak. His lips pressed hard against yours, claiming, silencing, forcing every reckless word back down your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock, your fists clenching against his chest, but his hold on you only tightened. His hand cupped the back of your head, almost shaking, as though terrified you’d disappear if he let go. His other arm wrapped around your waist, crushing you against him, leaving no space to breathe, no escape from the storm that was Jeon Jungkook.

Your heart thundered violently, your knees weak, as your tears mixed with the taste of him. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was his answer. His refusal. His breaking point.

When he finally tore his lips away, both of you were breathless. His forehead pressed against yours, his voice a low growl, heavy with fire and pain:

“Say that again… and I swear I’ll lose my damn mind.”

Your eyes were still wide, your lips trembling from the force of his kiss, your chest heaving with uneven breaths.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t even think straight. His words, his touch, his raw intensity—it was too much.

Your hands pressed against his chest, shaky but desperate. You pushed him, hard enough that he stumbled a step back, surprise flashing in his stormy eyes.

Before he could steady himself, before he could reach for you again, your legs carried you away. You ran, barefoot, stumbling across the room, your body weak but driven by panic.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind you.

Click.

You turned the lock with trembling fingers and pressed your back against the cold wood, sliding down until you sat on the tiled floor, hugging your knees. Your chest ached, your lips still burning from his, your head spinning from everything.

Outside, Jungkook’s voice came low and rough, muffled through the door.

“YN… open the door.”

You buried your face in your arms, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see.

His hand pressed against the door, his voice breaking between fury and desperation.

“Don’t run from me.”

But you did. You stayed silent, tears streaming down your swollen eyes, your heart torn between fear of him, anger at yourself, and the terrifying truth that you couldn’t hate the way he kissed you.

The silence stretched long. He didn’t leave. He didn’t shout again. He just stayed outside your locked door, breathing hard, his shadow heavy against the gap at the bottom of the door.

And you sat inside, trembling—hating him, hating yourself, but most of all, hating the weakness that made your heart still race for him.

Jungkook sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, palms dragging down his face with a frustrated growl.

“Fuck… fuck… shit—” he muttered, running his hand through his hair so hard it tugged at the roots. His chest heaved, his mind racing faster than he could stop it.

“What have I done?” he whispered to himself, voice rough. “No, no, I shouldn’t have done that… why—why did I…” He shook his head, his hand trembling as he clutched his jaw. “I kissed her. I actually kissed her.”

The weight of it slammed into him like a tidal wave. His heart pounded against his ribs, too loud, too fast.

“She must be thinking I’m a fucking asshole… a damnshit… or worse…” His throat tightened, and for the first time, fear—not of enemies, not of the world, but of you—spread through him.

Meanwhile, locked in the bathroom, you sat on the cold floor, knees hugged to your chest. Your lips still tingled, burning with the ghost of his touch.

You pressed your trembling fingers lightly against them. Your breaths were shallow, uneven.

“He kissed me…” you whispered to the empty room. “He literally kissed me.”

The words didn’t even feel real. The man you were supposed to fight, supposed to hate, supposed to keep out of your heart… Jungkook Jeon, the one who pushed his way into every part of your life, had just kissed you.

And the part you hated the most—the part that made you shiver and clench your fists—was that you didn’t hate it.

The soft warmth of his lips lingered on yours, searing you. The cold sting of his lip ring made you tremble.

Your fingers brushed your mouth again as your chest tightened.

At the same moment, Jungkook whispered into his palms, voice barely audible.

“It was my first kiss…”

And inside the bathroom, you whispered the same words at the same time.

“…It was my first kiss.”

Silence.

On opposite sides of the door, your hearts beat in rhythm without knowing.

Jungkook lifted his head suddenly, eyes wide. His throat was dry, his pupils blown wide with the memory.

“Her lips…” he muttered, pressing his fist against his mouth. “They were so soft. I want to…” His breath hitched, heat crawling up his neck. “I want to feel it again—”

But then his own words hit him like ice water. His eyes widened, panic flashing in them as he jerked to his feet.

“No. No, no, no. What the fuck am I thinking?” He paced the room like a caged animal, fists clenched. “No—fuck, my mind. Shit—stop it!”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, the war inside him tearing him apart.

And inside the bathroom, you sat just as torn—your hand still pressed to your lips, your heart betraying you with every wild beat.

The bathroom door creaked open after what felt like an eternity. You stepped out slowly, arms wrapped around yourself, hair slightly messy, eyes red from the tears you didn’t mean to shed.

Jungkook instantly froze where he stood. He had been pacing like a restless predator, but the moment he saw you, he went utterly still—his chest rose and fell heavily, his jaw tight.

Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t look at him, not directly. Your eyes flickered to the floor, then to the side, anywhere but his face. You could still feel that kiss like a brand, and you hated how your lips tingled with the memory.

Jungkook, on the other hand, swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t trust himself—not his hands, not his mouth, not the wild thoughts rushing through his head.

The silence in the room was suffocating. The air thick with everything neither of you dared to say.

You walked past him toward the bed, the faint scent of your shampoo brushing against him. He inhaled sharply, fists clenching, forcing himself not to move. You sat down on your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over your lap, still avoiding his gaze.

Jungkook lingered by the window, staring out into the night, pretending he was calm when inside he was chaos. But every so often, his eyes betrayed him—sliding toward you, just a glance, brief, hungry, aching.

And you did the same. A stolen glance when you thought he wasn’t looking. His sharp jawline, the way his lip ring glinted faintly under the dim light… the lips that had just kissed you.

The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was loud. Every stolen glance screamed. Every unspoken word lingered in the air like smoke.

And yet neither of you dared to break it.

The silence shattered when Jungkook finally turned from the window. His voice was low, rough, edged with something dangerous.

“Don’t think I don’t care,” he began, each word steady but trembling under the weight of emotion. His eyes locked on you, sharp, unwavering. “I care too much. So much that I can’t stand a single second of you getting hurt—by anything, anyone, even yourself.”

Your breath caught. You had expected his silence to last forever, not this—this storm of honesty.

He stepped closer, slow but deliberate, his fists unclenching as though he was forcing himself to stay in control. His voice cracked with frustration, but also something you couldn’t name.

“I’m not caging you. I’m not forcing you. And I’m sure as hell not doing all this for fun.” His chest rose and fell fast, like he was confessing something he had been holding back for too long. “Damn it, I don’t even know why I’m doing this. All I know is—I want to. I want to protect you. From everything. From everyone. Even when you don’t want me to.”

You were frozen, wide-eyed, your heart pounding so hard you swore he could hear it.

And then he said it. The words that made the air vanish from the room.

“Don’t you dare, Jeon YN.” His voice was sharp, commanding, dripping with unshakable finality.

Your head snapped up, eyes stunned, lips parting as if to ask—but no sound came.

He took another step, close enough now that you could see the flicker of something raw in his eyes—anger, yes, but beneath it, fear.

“Don’t you dare say those words again. What you said today.” His tone lowered, heavy with a threat you knew he meant. “I swear—I’ll lose my fucking mind. And I’ll do something you can’t even imagine.”

The way he looked at you… it wasn’t just anger. It was desperation. A plea wrapped in fury. A warning wrapped in vulnerability.

And for the first time, you knew—he wasn’t joking.

The room was silent but your heart was deafening inside your chest. His words still echoed, burning into your mind—don’t you dare.

Jungkook dragged a hand through his hair, chest still heaving. Then, like a switch flipping, his expression steeled again, sharp and unyielding. His jaw clenched as he stepped even closer, towering over you.

“Now listen to me.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Your breath hitched as your eyes shot to his.

“You’re going to rest,” he ordered, voice low but heavy with authority. “I’ll give you the medicine, and you’re going to take it. Then you’ll sleep.” His gaze lingered, daring you to defy him.

You blinked, stunned. He wasn’t asking. He was commanding.

His lips curved into something sharp—half frustration, half warning. “Or else…” his voice dropped an octave, dark and dangerous, “…I have my ways, YN.”

The weight of those words made your stomach flip. Because you knew—he meant it.

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his commanding tone swallow you whole. “And if I don’t?” you snapped back, your voice trembling with both anger and exhaustion.

Jungkook’s gaze hardened, but there was a glint in his eyes—something dark, something daring. He took one deliberate step closer, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.

“You really want to test me, Jeon YN?” His voice was low, dangerous, almost a growl.

Your throat tightened. You wanted to yell at him, shove him away, prove you weren’t fragile… but your body betrayed you. Fever still lingered, your hands trembled, and all you managed was a sharp glare.

He noticed. Of course he did.

With a heavy sigh, Jungkook reached for the glass of water and medicine on the bedside table. His tone softened just a fraction, but his authority didn’t waver.

“Last chance,” he murmured, holding the pill out to you. “Take it yourself… or I’ll make you.”

The air thickened between you. Every nerve screamed at the implication in his words.

You cross your arms, refusing the glass he was holding out.

“I said don’t care about me, Jungkook. I’m not taking it. What will you do—force me?”

The challenge in your voice was sharp, but your body was trembling, and you hated that he could see it.

For a moment, silence. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and then Jungkook’s lips curved into something dark and infuriatingly calm.

“Force you?” he echoed, taking a step closer. “No, baby… I’ll handle you.”

Before you could retort, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist—not painfully, but firm enough that you couldn’t yank away. He pulled you toward the bed, making you stumble down onto the mattress with him looming over you.

Your heart raced, fury and heat colliding in your chest.

“Let me go, Jeon Jungkook!”

“Not until you listen.” His voice was steady, dangerous in its control. One arm pinned your hand against the sheets while his other hand brought the pill back to your lips. “Open your mouth.”

You turned your face away, shaking your head furiously. “Never!”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, but his eyes burned with frustration. Without another word, he pressed his palm against your jaw, forcing you to look at him. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch.

“You think I won’t?” he whispered, so close your lips brushed his thumb. “I warned you, YN. Don’t test me.”

And before you could stop him—he slipped the pill past your lips with his own fingers, his hand firm on your jaw until you had no choice but to swallow with the water he brought to your mouth.

When you finally coughed, glaring at him with burning eyes, Jungkook leaned back just a fraction, his face still inches from yours.

“Good girl,” he murmured darkly. “You can hate me all you want… but I won’t watch you destroy yourself.”

You shoved him back the second he released you, your chest heaving.

“You’re a jerk. I hate you,” you spat, venom laced in every word, though your voice cracked just enough to betray the tremble in your throat.

Jungkook just leaned back in the chair beside your bed, crossing his arms with that maddeningly calm look, like your words couldn’t pierce him. His eyes, however, were still storm-dark, the veins in his hand twitching as if he was holding himself back.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said flatly, as if he hadn’t just forced you to take the medicine. As if your lips hadn’t clashed minutes ago in a kiss that had left your heart pounding.

You snapped your head away from him, hating the heat that spread in your chest at the memory. No. I won’t think about it. I won’t.

Instead, you lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself with your back to him.

Neither of you spoke another word. The air between you was thick with everything unsaid—his lips on yours, your trembling hands, the way your heart betrayed you. Both of you acted like it never happened, burying it beneath silence, because dragging it into the light would make it real.

But Jungkook’s gaze never left you. His jaw was tight, his thoughts loud even in the quiet room.

The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of your breathing as the medicine finally pulled you under. Jungkook sat there, elbows on his knees, staring at you like he was afraid the moment he blinked you’d disappear.

The image of you stumbling into the mansion earlier—pale, trembling, your eyes vacant—kept replaying in his head. His heart clenched. He’d never admit it out loud, but fuck, he had been terrified. Terrified of losing you.

His hand slid over his face, his jaw tight.

“What if I was late?” he whispered to himself. “What if something had happened to you before you reached me?”

The thought alone made his chest ache, his throat dry.

He swore in that moment—quietly, firmly, to the night itself—that he would never let you go alone again. Not to college, not to the city, not anywhere. Even if you hated him for it, he wouldn’t take that risk. You could scream at him, curse at him, say you hated him a hundred times—but he wouldn’t let you face anything alone. Not anymore.

And then his mind shifted back to earlier. Your words echoed inside him like a blade: “Let’s end our relationship. Just divorce me, Jungkook!”

That single word—divorce—had torn into him deeper than any wound he’d ever carried. He didn’t even understand why. He wasn’t supposed to care. This marriage wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But hearing you say it had set something inside him ablaze. The thought of letting you go… it made him sick.

His hand lowered, his eyes falling to your sleeping face. His chest tightened again, but for a different reason.

Why did I kiss her? he thought, his thumb brushing unconsciously against his lip.

He never touched anyone before. Never even thought about it. And yet with you—without hesitation, without a single thought—he had kissed you.

It scared him. Because it felt too natural. Too right.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving you, the moonlight spilling across your features. You weren’t the same girl he thought he hated. You weren’t his enemy anymore. Somewhere along the line, without him realizing, you had become the center of his world.

He wasn’t Jeon Jungkook, the cold, untouchable boy anymore. He was a man—your husband—helplessly, deeply, undeniably in love with you. Even if you couldn’t see it yet. Even he didn't accept it yet.

And in the stillness of that night, he swore to himself one thing:

No matter how much you fight me… I won’t let you go.

The room was dark, the faint glow of the moon spilling through the curtains. Jungkook had finally dozed off on the chair beside the bed when your soft whimper broke through the silence.

At first, he thought you were just shifting in sleep. But then—

“N-no… please…” your voice cracked, trembling.

Your hands fisted the blanket, your body twitching like you were trying to fight something off.

“P-please leave her… don’t touch… help—M-mom!!”

The words ripped out of you with raw terror. Your face twisted, tears spilling even though your eyes were shut tight. You shook violently, sobbing, your lips whispering incoherent pleas.

And then—

CRACK—inside the dream, you saw it.

That woman’s hand swinging the rod. Your mother’s body collapsing. Blood. So much blood.

“Nooooo!!” You screamed, thrashing in bed, your chest heaving.

“YN!!” Jungkook was up in a second, gripping your shoulders. “Wake up—it’s a dream! Wake up!”

You shot awake with a piercing scream, tears streaming, eyes wide and unfocused. Your breaths came uneven, sharp gasps tearing from your lungs as if you were drowning.

Your hands clutched your chest, trembling uncontrollably. “S-she—she killed her—blood—so much blood—” your words broke, your voice a shattered mess.

Jungkook’s heart tore at the sight. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his arms, pressing your face against his chest. “Shh… it’s not real. It’s not happening. You’re safe—hear me? You’re safe with me.”

But you kept crying, sobbing against him, your body stiff with fear. You tried pushing him away, but your hands were too weak, trembling too much.

“Let me go—no, no, I saw her—I saw her—” you choked, your nails digging into his shirt.

“YN, listen to me!” His voice dropped low but firm, the kind of tone that demanded you believe him. His hand cradled the back of your head, his other arm locked around your waist. “It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. She can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let her hurt you. Not now, not ever.”

Your breath still came in gasps, your body jerking from silent sobs. Jungkook rocked you gently, whispering against your hair, his own voice thick with emotion he couldn’t hide anymore.

“Please don’t scare me like this… I can handle anything—but not seeing you break like this,” he muttered, clutching you tighter.

Slowly, slowly, your breathing steadied against him, though tears still wet your cheeks. And in that moment, Jungkook made another vow deep in his heart:

He would find her. The woman who haunted your nightmares.

And he would make sure she never breathed another day.

Your body had finally stopped trembling, your breathing slowly evening out, but Jungkook didn’t dare let you go. He laid down beside you, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest, his arms tightening like a shield around you.

Even as your lashes fluttered closed, his eyes stayed open—dark, sharp, restless. Every time your hand twitched or a soft whimper escaped your lips, his heart clenched.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, whispering low, almost to himself, “Not again… I’ll never let you go through this again.”

But the images wouldn’t leave his mind—your scream, your sobbing plea for your mother, the terror written all over your face. Rage boiled in his chest, thick and burning.

Who were they? Who dared to hurt her? Who ruined her life so much that even in her dreams she’s bleeding pain?

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, his arms unconsciously squeezing you tighter. He could feel it—the beast inside him waking. He wouldn’t sit back anymore.

Carefully, with one hand still rubbing your back, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. The screen lit his face in the dark. He didn’t overthink, didn’t type a paragraph, didn’t waste words. Just a single message.

> Hi

He hit send.

Because that was all Yoongi needed. Jungkook knew him—if Yoongi was free, he wouldn’t even ask what’s wrong. He’d know from that one word that something had cracked.

And Yoongi would move. He’d find out. He’d dig into the shadows. He’d bring that person into the light.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered back to you, fragile and warm against him, and his chest tightened. He brushed your hair back gently, his thumb ghosting over your damp cheek.

They destroyed you once, he thought coldly. I’ll make sure she never gets a second chance.

To be continued...