Chapter 1: Summary
Chapter Text
Jungkook and Taehyungie were inseparable childhood friends who blossomed into lovers, sharing every first kiss, first love, and even their first night together. But at 15 and 13, their young love shattered, leaving scars neither fully healed from.
Years later, Jungkook is the rebellious bad boy of Seoul High, surrounded by his equally reckless friends, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok. Taehyungie, now the school's ethereal beauty, walks the halls with her best friends, Jiminie and Jinnie, trying to forget the boy who once held her heart.
A reckless game of truth or dare changes everything when Yoongi dares Jungkook: "Spend one night with Taehyungie." What starts as a cruel joke reignites buried emotions, but when Taehyung ends up pregnant, Jungkook denies the child, breaking her heart all over again.
Devastated, Taehyung leaves for Paris, chasing her dreams while raising their twins alone. Jungkook, drowning in regret, rises as the ruthless CEO of his father's empire-until fate forces them to collide once more.
Can two broken hearts, tangled in pride and pain, find their way back to each other? Or are some echoes meant to fade forever?
Chapter 2: Characters
Chapter Text
Jeon Jungkook
19 years
Schools bad boy
Single
Loves to always party.
Friends ; Namjoon, Yoongi and Hobi
Very possessive
Ex boyfriend of Taehyungie
Kim Taehyungie
17 years
Schools beauty
Loves strawberries a lot!
Single
Cutie and innocent
Brother is Namjoon
Friends ; Jiminie and Jinnie
Loves to paint
Ex girlfriend of Jungkook
Min Yoongi
19 years
Friend of Jungkook
Has a crush on Jiminie
Single
Friends: Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi
Cool and Calm
Park Jiminie
18 years
Taehyungie's best friend
Loves Taehyungie and Jinnie so much
Look like a mochi
Has a crush on Yoongi
Kim Namjoon
19 years
Secretly dating Jinnie
Friends with Jungkook, Yoongi and Hobi
Clumsy
Brainiac
Loves his sister a lot
Kim Jinnie
18 years
Secretly dating Namjoon
Loves her best friends a lot.
Loves pink
Doesn't play with her pink frying pans
Great chef
Jung Hoseok
19 years
Social butterfly
Has a crush on Ami.
Sunshine
Loves to make friends
🤍🤍
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Chapter 3: The Dare
Chapter Text
SEOUL HIGH SCHOOL, Present Day
The rooftop was their kingdom.
Jungkook exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching it curl into the late afternoon sky. Beside him, Yoongi leaned against the railing, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief. Namjoon scrolled through his phone, a small smile playing on his lips, probably texting her again. Hoseok tossed a lighter between his hands, grinning like he knew what was coming.
"Truth or dare, Jungkook?" Yoongi asked, voice low.
Jungkook smirked. "Dare. Obviously."
Hoseok whooped. Namjoon finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Yoongi's lips curled.
"Then I dare you," he said slowly, "to spend one night with Taehyungie."
The air shifted.
Jungkook's fingers tightened around his cigarette. His chest burned, but he forced a laugh. "That's it? Too easy."
Hoseok whistled. "You sure? Last I checked, she'd rather stab you than talk to you."
Namjoon's expression darkened. "Don't."
Jungkook ignored the warning in his voice. "Why? Scared I'll break your little sister's heart again?"
Namjoon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against concrete. "You wish you still had that power over her."
Yoongi stepped between them, amused. "Relax, Joon. It's just a game."
Namjoon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Just a game? To fuck my little sister? Don't fucking touch her Jungkook. You already did enough to her. Can't believe I'm still friends with you."
Jungkook watched him storm off, irritation prickling under his skin. Of course Namjoon would be protective. He'd been the one to pick up the pieces last time.
Hoseok nudged him. "You actually gonna do it?"
Jungkook stubbed out his cigarette. "Watch me."
--
Taehyungie was used to the stares.
She walked through the halls of Seoul High with her head high, her skirt perfectly pressed, her hair cascading in soft waves. The school's untouchable beauty—cold, untouchable, broken.
"Tae!" Jiminie looped an arm through hers, her cherry-blossom perfume sweet and familiar. "You're zoning out again."
Taehyungie blinked. "Just tired."
Jinnie smirked, twirling a strand of her long hair. "Or just avoiding him."
She didn't need to ask who. Jungkook's presence was like a storm—loud, unpredictable, impossible to ignore. Even now, she could feel his gaze burning into her back as she passed his group near the lockers.
She tightened her grip on her books. Don't look.
Jiminie's eyes flickered toward the boys, lingering a second too long on Yoongi before she quickly faced forward. Jinnie noticed, grinning. "Someone's got a crush~"
Jimin flushed. "Shut up."
Taehyungie sighed. "Please don't start."
Jinnie winked. "What? It's not my fault Min Yoongi has those eyes."
Jiminie groaned, dragging Taehyung faster down the hall.
--
Namjoon found Taehyungie at her locker after school.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She slammed her locker shut. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He hesitated. "Jungkook—"
"Don't." Her voice cracked. "Just... don't."
Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair—a habit he'd had since they were kids. "Look, I know you don't want to hear it, but he's not worth it, Tae. He's just—"
"Playing games. I know." She forced a smile. "Go text your girlfriend. I'm fine."
Namjoon's ears turned pink. "Jinnie's not—we're not—"
Taehyung rolled her eyes. "You're literally wearing the bracelet she made you."
He glanced down at the woven thread on his wrist and sighed. "...Just be careful, okay?"
She nodded, but her chest ached.
Because no matter how much she hated Jungkook, a part of her still remembered the boy who'd held her hand under the stars.
--
Hi lovies, please interact with me to keep motivating me.🤍🤍
Chapter 4: The Memories
Chapter Text
Eleven Years Ago – Elementary School
The first time Jungkook saw her, she was covered in mud.
Six-year-old Taehyungie had tripped over her own feet chasing a butterfly, her white dress now a canvas of brown splotches. Instead of crying, she'd giggled, holding up a dirt-streaked hand toward him.
"Wanna build a castle?"
Jungkook, the quiet new kid with scraped knees, had never been invited to play before.
He took her hand. He didn't know he'll fall in so deep.
Now, at 10 and 13, they became inseparably in love, it was to no one's wonder.
The Treehouse
"Promise you'll never leave."
Taehyungie's pinky hooked around his, her eyes too serious for a fourth grader. Summer rain pattered against the wooden roof, trapping them in their own secret world.
Jungkook squeezed her finger. "Promise."
She grinned, shoving a half-melted chocolate bar into his mouth. "Good. Now you're stuck with me forever."
And they believed it. Every one did. Because Jungkook was so in-love with his taebear. He would blush as he gives a bunch of plucked flowers to Taehyungie from his mothers garden. His parents would coo at how adorable he was. And Taehyungie? She would giggle in delight.
At age 12, Taehyungie got her first kiss. Jungkook loved it! Her lips tasted like strawberry lip gloss.
They'd been practicing for the school play—Romeo and Juliet, of course—when Taehyungie suddenly grabbed his face.
"Like this," she whispered, pressing her mouth to his.
Jungkook's heart exploded. They botched the actual performance because he couldn't stop smiling.
--
At age 13 and 15, they both broke their virginity. It was unacceptable yes! But it happened so suddenly, out of their love and inexperience. They giggled and blushed after that. Under the moon light, Taehyungie whispered, their legs tangled under the blanket, her head on his chest
"Koo?" Jungkook hums. "You wont leave me right?" her eyes wide with hope.
Jungkook kissed her nose "never."
--
When Taehyungie was 14, that's when everything changed. The warmth, their love, everything crumbled down.
It was a girl, an annoying girl as Taehyungie would describe her. She was all over her boyfriend, demanding protection when there was nothing to protect her from.
And the worst part? She hated Taehyungie's presence.
At first Taehyungie brushed it off, maybe she doesn't have friends, she thought.
But she was proved wrong.
She told Jungkook. He consoled her, telling her he loves only her but they keep growing their distance.
She addressed the matter and Jungkook didn't have patience.
They fought. Because Jungkook assumed she was jealous.
It was nasty. Taehyungie sobbed in her brothers arms.
Jungkook was not the same after that. He wasn't the lovesick puppy to his taebear anymore. No. He became cold, distant, rude.
And it hurt Taehyungie so much. She wanted her koo back.
Jungkook broke up with her a week later. Taehyungie begged him not to leave her.
"You promised!" she screamed at him, tears streaming down her face.
Jungkook barely flinched. "i just hope we can remain friends." he left never looking back.
Taehyungie did not come to school for a 2 weeks.
Jinnie and Jiminie asked Jungkook, he shrugged "My life doesn't revolve around her."
They went to her house. She was a mess.
It took them months to help her get over him.
--
Present Day – Jungkook's Penthouse
The whiskey glass slipped from Jungkook's fingers, shattering against the marble floor.
Fuck.
He stared at the broken shards, his chest heaving. three years. three years since he'd last seen her, and yet—
Taehyung's laughter echoed in his skull. Her real laugh, the one she only used when they were alone. The one he'd ripped away.
His phone buzzed. Hoseok.
[21:03]: Yoongi's birthday. Club tonight. Don't flake.
Jungkook kicked the glass fragments under the couch.
He deserved the way they bit into his bare feet later.
---
Namjoon hadn't spoken to him since the punch. In all honesty, he cares but his ego is far more stronger than a stupid apology.
[Club VIP Section – 1:17 AM]
The club's strobe lights pulsed like a heartbeat. The bass thrummed through Jungkook's veins, whiskey burning his throat as he slumped deeper into the leather booth.
"Happy birthday, asshole." Jungkook shoved a ridiculously expensive bottle of cognac into Yoongi's hands.
Yoongi swirled his drink, watching him with those sharp, knowing eyes.
"Remember the dare?" Yoongi's voice cut through the music, deliberate.
Jungkook's glass froze halfway to his lips. "What?"
Yoongi smirked, slow and dangerous. "The. Dare"
Jungkook poked his cheek "yeah what about it?"
"When are you gonna do it?" Hoseok chimed in. "Namjoon is gonna burst your brain once he finds out."
"I don't care." Jungkook clenches his jaw
"I'm going to do that dare. I just need time." he murmured.
He heard Yoongi cackle but paid no heed.
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter Text
Taehyungie laughed at something Jiminie said, her head thrown back, the sunlight catching the gold in her hair.
Jungkook's throat went dry.
Fuck.
She was even prettier up close.
Jiminie spotted him first, her smile vanishing. "Oh. Him."
Taehyungie turned, and her expression iced over. She hated how her stomach flipped. "Let's go."
Jungkook stepped into their path. "We need to talk."
"I don't even know you," She said, sidestepping him.
He caught her wrist. "Five minutes."
Her skin was warm. He remembered how it used to feel under his palms.
Taehyungie yanked free. "I'd rather swallow glass."
Jiminie snorted.
Jungkook's jaw tightened.
Taehyung flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Next time, don't ever demand authority over a mere stranger like me. You're just my brothers friend. Nothing more, nothing less."
She walked away.
Hoseok materialized beside him, whistling. "Damn. Zero to burned in three seconds."
Jungkook's fingers curled into fists. He hated when he loses.
Game on.
---
[Jungkook's Bedroom – 1:37 AM]
Step 1: Get her alone.
Step 2: Make her remember.
Step 3: Get her to admit she still wants him.
Step 4 was hazy. But he'd figure it out.
His phone buzzed.
[Yoongi: 1:38 AM]: You overthinking this?
[Jungkook: 1:39 AM]: No.
[Yoongi: 1:39 AM]: Liar. Just talk to her.
[Jungkook: 1:40 AM]: It's a DARE. Not a therapy session.
[Yoongi: 1:41 AM]: Keep telling yourself that.
Jungkook threw his phone across the room.
Library.
Taehyungie was alone for once, buried in a book. Jungkook slid into the chair opposite her. "Wuthering Heights? Really?" She didn't look up. "Go away." "Heathcliff's a dick." he muttered. "So are you." she shot back
He smirked. "You used to like that about me." Taehyungie slammed the book shut. "I used to like a lot of things about you. Then I grew up." Jungkook leaned forward pretending that didn't sting. "Liar." he whispered. Her breath hitched. She sighed "What do you want, Jungkook?"
You. Always you.
"One conversation," he said instead. Taehyung stood, gathering her things. "Here's one: Goodbye."
--
Taemin's weekend bash was lit! Taehyung wasn't supposed to be here. Jimin had dragged her. "You need to live a little!"
Jungkook spotted her the second she walked in—dressed as some vintage movie star, lips red, curls spilling over bare shoulders. The red body con dress doing nothing to hide her curves. Her breast sits so pretty on her chest, he remembered how she was so sensitive over there on their first night, it was developing then, small limes grown fully into melons.
Don't let him get started on her lips, lips were the kind that lingered after every kiss they shared, soft, plump, tempting, pouty, and naturally tinted with hue that would deepen when his lips sucked on it, sensual, emitting moans from her. It tasted like strawberries, sin in satin and always made for trouble.
Her skin was flushed from the clubs heat making her honeyed skin brighten under the disco lights, the skin that Jungkook marked his territory on even if he was inexperienced. Jungkook knows Taehyungie isn't a fan of clubs, Namjoon mentioned one time. And it made Jungkook so satisfied by that. The club was full of horny guys who couldn't stick their dicks inside their shorts. Taehyungie was his. Everything about her is his! An embodiment of sin. The so called sin Jungkook is madly in love with. Wait! IS?
Fuck.
Taehyungie was always so beautiful. He ignored the rapid beat of his heart "Ladies, I've got to be somewhere" he tells the girls swooning around him, wearing nothing to cover their bodies. He was across the room in seconds. His confidence spiking up.
"Dance with me." he said once he reached her. Inhaling her sweet vanilla scent he always loved. Taehyungie, startled, but composed her self. She sipped her drink. "No." It was simple, flat. But Jungkook wasn't here to back down. "Scared?" he smirked.
"Of you?" She laughed. "Please." Jungkook grabbed her waist. Sparkes shot right through his arm making him suck is breath. Her waist was still so small, it was a bit slimmer than now but Jungkook always loved her thickness. "Prove it." he managed to say. Taehyungie laughed pushing him away harshly "Prove what? Your bitches are impatient to have you back around them, why don't you grab one of them and dance? I'm sure your dick will he wet by the end of the night" She points at the far left corner, where the girls twirled and drank from their glasses. Their eyes never leaving Jungkook.
Jungkook's jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to speak but he was interrupted---"There you are!" Jiminie yanked Taehyungie away, shooting Jungkook a death glare. "We're leaving." Taehyungie blinked, dazed. "I—what?" Jungkook reached for her again, but it was too late.
Yoongi snickered as he approached him, materialized at his elbow. "You lost, man." Yoongi nodded at Taehyungie, now being dragged toward the door. "She walked away. *Again." Jungkook watched her go, chest burning. This wasn't about the dare.
It never had been.
--
[Taehyungie's Bedroom – Late Night]
Taehyungie flopped onto her bed, groaning into her pillow. "He won't stop."
Jiminie and Jinnie exchanged glances before crawling onto the mattress on either side of her. "Who won't stop what?" Jinnie asked, already knowing the answer. Taehyungie turned her face to the side, muffled. "Jungkook." Jimin hissed through her teeth.
Taehyungie sat up, cheeks flushed. "He's everywhere. The library. The party. He wants to always touch me." She doesn't include the part where her body tingles from the touch. Jinnie's lips pursed. "Sounds like he's playing games."
Jiminie scoffed. "Sounds like he's obsessed." Taehyungie bit her lip. "...What if he's not playing?"
Silence.
Then— "Oh my god." Jiminie grabbed her shoulders. "You want him to be serious." Taehyungie's face burned. "No! I just—" "You like that he's chasing you!" Jiminie gasped. "After three years of him pretending you don't exist, you're happy he's finally—"
"I'm not happy!" Taehyung lied and she feels so awful. Her heart had been doing somersaults since the party. Jinnie crossed her arms. "Let me get this straight. Jungkook ignored you for years, and now that he's decided to pay attention to you again, you're considering forgiving him?" Taehyungie fidgeted. "I didn't say that."
Jiminie threw her hands up. "He's manipulating you! He probably just wants to—" She made a crude gesture. "Minie!" Jinnie smacked her arm. Taehyungie's stomach twisted. Was that all this was?
Jinnie sighed, softening. "Look, Tae... we know you loved him. But the Jungkook you knew doesn't exist anymore." Yes he did. She'd seen him—just for a second, in the dark at the party, when his fingers touched her waist and his breath hitched. But maybe she wasn't seeing right.
Jiminie squeezed her hand. "You deserve someone who chooses you every day. Not just when it's convenient." Taehyungie swallowed hard. "...What if he's changed?" Jiminie and Jinnie shared a look.
"Then let him prove it,"Jinnie said firmly. "From a distance."
--
[Next Day – School Courtyard]
Jungkook spotted her from across the quad. Taehyungie felt his gaze before she saw him—that familiar prickle on the back of her neck. She kept her eyes locked on her notebook, pretending to study. She'd memorized the page an hour ago.
A shadow fell over her. "You're avoiding me."
Her pulse jumped. Stay strong. "Observant." Jungkook sat beside her—too close. "Why?" Her heart thumped "Maybe I'm tired of your games." He stilled. "What games?" Taehyungie finally looked at him. "You ignored me for three years, Jungkook. And now, suddenly, you're everywhere? What's your real motive?" His jaw tightened. "You think I have an ulterior motive?" "I know you do."
Jungkook leaned in, voice dropping. "What if I just missed you?"
Her breath caught.
--
[Jiminie's House]*
"HE SAID WHAT?!" Minnie shrieked. Taehyung buried her face in her hands. "He said he missed me." Jinnie groaned. "That's worse." "How?!" Taehyungie whispers. "Because now you're considering it!" Jiminie flopped onto the bed dramatically. "He's good, I'll give him that. Textbook bad-boy manipulation." Taehyungie's chest ached. "...What if it's not manipulation?"
Jiminie sat up. "Do you hear yourself? This is Jungkook. The same guy who ghosted you after—" "I know!" Taehyungie snapped. Then, quieter: "I know." Jinnie sighed, rubbing her back. "Then why are you still holding on?"
Taehyungie stared at her hands.
~Because when he looks at me, I still feel like I'm thirteen and loved.~
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
Please comment 🤍
Chapter 6: A dangerous bloom
Chapter Text
Saturday Afternoon
Namjoon brows furrowed. Across the small table, Jinnie watched him with curious eyes, her fingers tapping against her peach iced tea.
"You've been quiet today," she noted, tilting her head. "And not in your usual ' I'm-thinking-about-philosophy' way. More like... 'I-want-to-punch-something' way." Namjoon's lips twitched. "Is that a technical term?" Jinnie smirked. "Very." She reached across the table, brushing her fingers over his knuckles. "Talk to me." He exhaled, turning his hand to lace their fingers together. "It's Jungkook."
Jinnie's expression darkened. "Ah. Him." Namjoon's thumb traced circles over her skin. "We're not... talking right now." "Why?" He hesitated. "It's—"
"NAMJOON!"
A loud voice cut through the café. Both of them jerked apart as Hoseok bounded toward their table, grinning like he hadn't just shattered the moment. "Dude, I've been texting you! We're meeting at Yoongi's in twenty—oh." He blinked, finally noticing Jinnie. "Jinnie?"
Jinnie smiled tightly. "Hoseok." Namjoon clenched his jaw. "We're kind of in the middle of something." Hoseok waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, save it. But seriously, Yoongi's pissed. Something about Jungkook being an idiot again—" "Hoseok." Namjoon's voice was sharp.
Hoseok froze, finally registering the tension. "...Right. Uh. I'll just... go." He backed away, pointing at Namjoon. "But text me." Silence settled again. Jinnie turned back to Namjoon, raising a brow. "You were saying?" Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temple. "It's... complicated."
Jinnie studied him for a long moment before squeezing his hand. "Okay." She didn't push. But she noticed.
---
Holding hands as they walk home, Jinnie bumped her shoulder against Namjoon's. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" Namjoon swallowed. "I know." "So why won't you?" He stopped walking, turning to face her. "Because it's not just my secret to tell."
Jinnie's eyes softened. "Is it about Tae?" A muscle in his jaw twitched. Jinnie sighed. "I figured." She stepped closer, cupping his face. "Just promise me one thing." "What?" "If it ever stops being complicated... you'll let me in." Namjoon leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "...I promise."
They kiss. But as Namjoon wraps his arm around his beloved he couldn't help but think how he could keep it.
--
Abandoned Basketball Court – Midnight
The flickering streetlight painted Namjoon's fury in jagged shadows as he shoved Jungkook against the chain-link fence. Yoongi and Hoseok try to separate them, but Namjoon is just too strong. They grip his arms as they watch shocked.
"Stay. Away. From. Her." Jungkook didn't flinch, even as the metal dug into his back. "Or what?" Namjoon's fist connected with his jaw—hard. Jungkook's head snapped to the side, blood blooming on his tongue. He laughed, wiping his mouth. "That all you got?" "You're disgusting," Namjoon spat. "She loved you, and you're treating her like some—some game!"
Jungkook's smirk was razor-edged. "Maybe I am." He wasn't. But pride was a poison, and he'd swallowed gallons. Namjoon recoiled like he'd been burned. "...I don't even know you anymore." Jungkook straightened his jacket. "Funny. Your sister said the same thing."
"Jungkook that's enough! I cancel the dare" Yoongi utters. Jungkook glances at him "You don't get to do that. The dare will be called off when i say it" With that he leaves. The trio watch him go. "I don't like where this is going" Hoseok whines. "I should have known he was going to get competitive" Yoongi regrets. Namjoon catches his breath "I'll fucking kill him if he tries to touch her!"
--
Meanwhile, Jiminie had wandered off from the group that day, bumping into Yoongi outside a quiet coffee shop. "Lost your way, cutie?" he teased. Jiminie rolled her eyes but blushed "Maybe I just like some decent company" They ended up talking for hours. Coffee turned into laughter. Laughter turned into hangouts. Yoongi who was always guarded, found himself drawn into Jiminie.
Taehyungie curled into Jimin's couch, watching her best friend fuss over her phone with a giddy smile. "Yoongi again?" she teased. Jiminie's cheeks pinked. "Shut up." Taehyungie smiled, happy for her best friends. Her phone buzzed—a text from Jinnie.
[Jinnie😘: 8:15 PM]: Movie night with Joon. You okay alone? Taehyung forced a smile. "Go. Have fun." she typed.
Guess she'll be alone for a while.
--
A week later, Jungkook noticed too. He watched her from afar, walking alone, eating quietly and lost in thought. She forces a smile anytime a students waves at her. He saw his chance.
Jungkook cornered her by the lockers, his body caging hers. "Hey." He whispered "Miss me?"Taehyungie's pulse betrayed her, racing under her skin. "Move." she hissed. "Make me." She shoved at his chest. He didn't budge. "What do you want, Jungkook?" His thumb brushed her collarbone. "You know what I want baby." God that name. Taehyungie would always blush when he'd call her that.
" I don't. Excuse me" she tried to break free. Jungkook held her face with his fingers. "You do alot of things to me. I'm going insane baby." Taehyungie gulps, her heart beating so fast she is damn sure Jungkook can hear it. She looks away but Jungkook lifts her head by her chin oh so softy. Taehyungie looks up at him, her eyes wide and glossy.
"Can we talk? Lets catch up. hm" he leans in slowly, capturing her lips with ease. Taehyungie closes her eyes, her arms reach up and she clutches his jacket for support, raising herself higher on her toes. Jungkook grabs her waist, deepening the kiss and he groans. Her lips soft and pillowy, the world seemed to lose its sound, as if he was re-memorizing the shape of her lips he was always addicted to, the taste of everything he'd been aching for in silence.
Her lips tasted like tears and memory, like the nights he spent trying to forget her and failing every time. He kissed her like he was angry at himself for still loving her. She kissed him like she was trying to take back all the times she told herself she didn't care. His hands tighten around her waist like he was afraid she'd disappear again. Her fingers moved and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer like she needed to feel that he was real—that this was real.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, neither of them spoke. But in that silence was a storm—years of longing, regret, and something dangerously close to hope.
Jungkook's hand trembled slightly as it brushed her cheek, grounding him in the reality that this, she, wasn't a dream. Taehyungie searched into his eyes, her lips wet and red from the earlier assault. Her heart beating along with Jungkook's. "Y-you m-mean it?" she stutters. Jungkook nods and chuckles endeared, "yea" he whispers his fingers stroking her lithe waist.
For now she'll bask in the warmth she still craved. Taehyungie tells herself.
--
[Jungkook's Penthouse – Nightfall]
Taehyungie shouldn't have come. She knew this the moment she stepped into his apartment—all sleek black marble and floor-to-ceiling windows, so unlike the messy boy who used to keep candy wrappers under his bed. Outside, the evening sky was a shade of melancholy-- dark, quiet and waiting for something to break the silence. Jungkook handed her a glass of wine, his fingers brushing hers. "Relax. I don't bite." Taehyungie's eyes scanned the space. His guitar was still in the corner. He used to play for her.
She took a sip, the bitterness coating her tongue. "I-i didn't expect it to feel so...?" she trailed off. Jungkook chuckled, voice low. "Not much has changed." He leaned against the kitchen island, watching her. Taehyungie scoffed and blushed. "Why are you staring like that?"
Jungkook's smiled "I always look at you like that" Taehyungie looks away. "You can sit Tae, I'll just go in and get us some stuffs" he drank the rest of the wine and disappeared through the hallways.
[Living Room – An Hour Later]
The photo album was a mistake. Jungkook hadn't meant to pull it out, but the wine had loosened his grip—on the bottle, on his secrets. Taehyungie's breath hitched when she saw it. "You kept these?" Pictures of them, cheeks smushed together at a birthday party. At twelve, Jungkook piggybacking her through the rain. At fourteen, her lips pressed to his cheek seconds before everything fell apart. Jungkook stared at her profile, memorizing the way the lamplight caught her lashes. "Couldn't throw them away."
Taehyung traced their younger selves with trembling fingers. "We were so stupid." "Yeah." His voice dropped. "Stupid in love."
Silence.
The weight of the past hung heavy between them — not painful, not sweet — just real. "Why did you leave me, Jungkook?" she asked, voice trembling. "Back then... when we were happy. All because of Mina" His jaw clenched. "I was scared. Of how much I loved you. Of needing you." That wasn't the whole truth, but he'll stick to this one. For now.
She turned away, tears burning in her eyes. "You broke me." "I broke myself too," he whispered, stepping closer. "I just... never said it out loud." Their eyes met, And just like that, years of silence and pain melted into heat. He touched her cheek gently, hesitantly, like he was afraid she'd disappear. But Taehyungie didn't move. Taehyungie didn't remember who moved first—only that suddenly, Jungkook's hands were in her hair, her back against the cold marble, his mouth hot on her neck.
A muffled moan escaped her. The kiss was desperate, raw, passionate, it wasn't gentle. It was hungry — like he had been starving for her for years. Her hands gripped him, pulling him closer, closer still, until there was no space between them. She gasped against his lips as he lifted her by the thighs onto the marble countertop. The cold surface bit into her thighs, but she barely noticed--not when Jungkook's hands were sliding under her skirt, his touch burning through the thin fabric of her panties.
"Tell me to stop," he growled against her lips, his fingers teasing her through the lace. She arches into him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "D-don't" she moans. Jungkook's smirk was dark as he hooked a finger under the lace and tore it away. Taehyungie gasped, but before she could protest, his mouth was on her neck, his teeth scraping over her pulse point as fingers slid inside her. "F-fuck Jungkook"
"Say my name again," he demanded his voice rough with need "Still so tight as before baby" She moaned as his thumb circled her clit, her hips rocking against his hand, her eyes rolled back . "J-jeon Jun-jungkook" He kissed her hard, swallowing her cries as she came undone around his fingers. He continues to kiss her as he swiftly lifts her up against him, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He carried her to his room, never breaking the kiss.
The door swung shut behind them, and the night outside was nothing compared to the one inside. Clothes fell away like secrets. Jungkook laid her down on the silk sheets, his hands worshipping every inch of her skin as if trying to memorize her all over again. Jungkook mapped every inch of her like a man starved, whispering her name like a prayer. His lips trailed down her body--her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the dark erected areolas, the dip of her navel--until he was kneeling between her thighs, his breath hot against her core.
"You always taste like heaven" he murmured before dragging his tongue through her folds. Taehyungie's back arched off the bed, a loud moan and a whine escapes her lips, her fingers twisting the sheets as he licked into her, slow and deliberate. She could feel him smirking against her skin as she whimpered, her thighs trembling around his head. "Please--please--"
Jungkook pulled back just enough to look up at her, his lips glistening. "Please what, baby?" "Fuck me." He groaned, surging up to capture her lips in a searing kiss as he positioned himself at her entrance. "Look at me" he demanded. Taehyungie's eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark gaze as he sank into her in one slow, torturous thrust.
They both gasped, their foreheads pressing together as he bottomed out, their breathes mingling. "Tae...baby" he whispered, his voice breaking. This wasn't like the party. This wasn't anger or spite or a dare. This was slow—achingly familiar, like relearning a language they'd both forgotten.
Taehyungie arched into him, her breaths ragged, her heart screaming that this was a mistake. She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him deeper. "Move."
Jungkook obeyed, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one dragging a moan from her lips. His hands tangled in her hair, his mouth finding hers again and again as if he couldn't bear to be apart from her for even a second.
Taehyungie could feel the coil in her stomach tightening with every snap of his hips, every whispered curse against her skin. "I'm close----Jung--" He reached between them, his thumb circling her clit as he pounded into her. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel you" She shattered with a cry, her nails raking down his back as pleasure ripped through her. Jungkook followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside her, her name a prayer on his lips.
🤍🤍🤍
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Chapter 7: Broken shards
Chapter Text
There is something sacred about the moments that follow a storm — the hush, the stillness, the way the sky holds its breath. The bedroom was filled with that kind of silence. Golden light streamed through the curtains, brushing softly over tangled sheets, scattered clothes, and two bodies that had once been one.
It was the kind of morning that should've felt magical.
But it didn't. Not for him.
Jungkook was already awake.
He hadn't slept. Not when every breath she took was a reminder of what he'd stolen—what he kept stealing, over and over, because he was weak and selfish and starved for her in ways that had nothing to do with sex.
Look at her. Moonlight gilded the slope of her bare shoulder, the dip of her waist under the tangled sheets. Her lips were parted, still swollen from his kisses. Her head nested on his chest, so fragile, so peaceful, so fucking pretty.
Mine.
The thought was a knife to his ribs.
Because she wasn't.
She couldn't be. And it made him sick.
Not because he didn't want her.
But because he did — more than he wanted to admit.
He had given in last night. Completely. No walls. No masks.
And now, watching her curled up beside him, soft and warm and entirely real... the fear crept in like poison.
He was weak. He hated that she still made him feel everything. Jungkook slid out of bed, his movements silent. He dressed quickly, fingers fumbling over his buttons, his pulse a frantic drumbeat of run, run, run. He wanted to go back. To hold her again. To tell her he never stopped loving her.
But instead... he left a note on the bedside table. The note took three drafts.
The first: "I love you." (Too honest.)
The second: "This was a mistake." (Too cruel.)
With a final version , he scribbled so hard the pen tore the paper:
"Don't wait for me. Don't read too much into last night. We were just lost in the moment. Don't expect anything more.
—Jk."
He left it on the pillow where his head should've been. He paused for a long moment at the doorway, before leaving.
--
Taehyungie woke to a heart full of sunlight. Her body ached in all the best ways. Her skin still carried the ghost of his touch. A small smile tugged at her lips as she rolled over, expecting to meet his eyes, feel his arms.
But the bed was cold.
Empty.
Her brows furrowed as she sat up, confusion blooming in her chest.
Then she saw the note.
A simple, folded piece of paper.
Her hands trembled as she picked it up, opened it.
Her breath hitched.
The flutter in her chest died instantly, crashing into her ribs like glass.
She re-read it three times. No explanation. No warmth. No emotion. Just distance. Just cold.
Just... goodbye. There was silence.
Then, she laughed—a broken, breathless sound. This is a prank. Jungkook is pranking her. Yes. It was funny, she laughed. So why isn't he coming out of his hiding place?
Last night-- the way he'd kissed her like he was drowning, the way he'd whispered her name like a secret, the way he'd—
A sob comes first. Then she stops. She frantically gets off the bed, grabbing her clothes. She needs to speak to him. Yes. Maybe he went for an errand. He'll be back and he'll look for her at her place.
She leaves his room hurriedly. She has to take a bath before he arrives.
--
The days blurred into each other like washed-out colors on canvas — dull, silent, and exhausting. Taehyungie moved through them like a shadow of herself. She didn't smile anymore.
She barely ate. She hardly spoke. At home, the tension was impossible to miss.
Namjoon had always been observant — protective in a quiet way. He knew her moods like the back of his hand. He noticed the skipped dinners, the sudden loss of energy, the way her laughter had vanished without a trace. His heart skipped a beat. Did Jungkook...-- No! he shook his head.
One evening, he knocked on her bedroom door.
She was curled up in bed, He leaned against the frame. "You've been quiet lately."
"I'm fine," she said quickly, not looking at him.
"You're not."
A beat of silence.
"Did something happen?" he asked gently. "Is it Jiminie? or Jinnie? School?"
Taehyungie bit the inside of her cheek. Her fingers clenched around the blanket. "No," she whispered. "Nothing happened."
Namjoon stepped inside, kneeling beside her bed. "Tae... you can tell me anything. You know that, right?"
Her eyes stung.
She wanted to tell him.
She wanted to cry in his arms like she used to when she scraped her knee or got her heart broken in middle school.
But this?
This was too big. Too raw.
Too shameful. So she stayed silent. And her brother saw the war in her eyes — the ache, the weight.
But he didn't push.
He simply stood and whispered, "Whenever you're ready... I'll be here."
And then he left.
Taehyungie curled deeper and sobbed.
--
At school, Jiminie noticed a change in her best friend "Tae, are you okay? You haven't laughed in days."
"I'm fine," Taehyungie replied, forcing a smile.
Jinnie cornered her after class. "Did something happen? You've been so quiet."
"Nothing happened."
But inside, everything had happened. And she didn't know how to carry it alone. It hurt so fucking much.
She skipped lunch. She ignored group chats. She kept her headphones in and her head down.
Her heart was breaking all over again — and this time, it felt worse.
Because she thought they'd healed.
--
A week later, she saw him.
Jungkook.
She walked up to him slowly, every step a battle between hope and pride. "Jungkook," she said softly. He didn't turn. "Move."
"Not until you look at me." A muscle jumped in his jaw. "There's nothing to look at."
The words hit like a slap. Taehyungie's breath came too fast. "Was it all a lie? The other night—the photos— was any of it real?"
Jungkook finally faced her, his eyes black and bottomless. "What do you want from me, Taehyung?"
You to love me.
"The truth," she whispered instead.
He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Here's the truth: You're pathetic. You keep coming back, thinking I'll change. I won't. I was just horny. What we had was just sex. Consider it as a one night stand."
Taehyung recoiled.
Jungkook walked away.
If his hands shook, no one saw.
Taehyungie stood there frozen, her throat tight, her chest caving in.
And that night, she curled up in bed and cried silently, her pillow soaking up the sound of her heartbreak.
--
The morning sun painted soft gold across the school courtyard, the usual buzz of students echoing through the air. Laughter, sneakers against pavement, the rustle of pages and backpacks being slammed into lockers — all the noise that masked quiet heartbreaks and hidden desires.
Taehyungie walked through the school gates, flanked by Jiminie and Jinnie. She wore her sadness like perfume — silent but present, lingering just enough to be noticed by the ones who looked closely.
But today, she had forced herself to try — she'd braided her hair, added a slight gloss to her lips, and wore a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Let's just get through today," Jinnie muttered, tightening her grip on her books. "Just us. No boys"
"Agreed," Jiminie added, though she gave Taehyungie a quiet glance, concerned. She hadn't spoken about what had truly happened, but her hollow eyes had spoken volumes.
They passed through the courtyard, their steps steady — until Taehyungie's breath caught.
Jungkook.
He was leaning against a pillar just ahead, arms wrapped casually around a girl — a new transfer, pretty and loud, and clearly thrilled to have his attention.
His voice was loud enough to carry.
"You know, I don't usually do this, but for you? I might make an exception," he said, brushing a finger under the girl's chin with a smirk.
The girl giggled, completely charmed.
Jungkook's eyes flicked up, almost too fast — but not fast enough to hide his true intent.
He wasn't flirting with the girl for her.
He was waiting for Taehyung to see him.
And she did.
She saw everything.
But she didn't stop.
Didn't falter.
Her heart cracked open, quietly and cleanly — like porcelain dropped onto soft grass. No noise. Just pain. She kept walking past him, chin high, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.
That silence hurt more than any slap could've.
Jungkook's smirk faded the moment she passed him without a glance.
And the girl in his arms? He let go of her like she burned him.
"Wait, what?" she asked, confused as he gently shoved her to the side.
"Go," he muttered. "We're done."
She frowned and walked away, muttering under her breath.
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes flicking in the direction Taehyung had walked — cold and composed, yet quietly devastated.
A voice broke the silence within him
"You're pathetic," it said
Jungkook didn't answer.
Because he knew.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
And he hated himself for it.
--
[Hoseok's Garage – Friday Night]
The air reeked of beer and bad decisions. Jungkook slumped against the couch, swirling his half-empty bottle, the dare sitting heavy on his tongue. He hadn't planned to say it. But the words tumbled out anyway, sharp and ugly.
"I did it."
Hoseok paused mid-laugh, his grin slipping. "Did what?"
Jungkook's fingers tightened around the glass. "The dare. I slept with Taehyungie."
Silence.
Then—
"You what?" Hoseok's mouth hung open. "Dude... what the fuck?"
Yoongi didn't react.
He just stared at Jungkook, his expression colder than ice, before standing and walking out without a word.
The door slammed shut behind him.
--
[Outside – Parking Lot]
Hoseok chased Jungkook into the dim glow of the streetlights, grabbing his arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Jungkook shook him off. "It was just a dare."
"Bullshit!" Hoseok's voice cracked. "You've been obsessed with her for years! Don't act like this was some fucking game!"
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "Maybe it was."
Maybe if he said it enough, he'd believe it.
Hoseok stepped back, disgust twisting his features. "You're sick."
Jungkook didn't argue.
--
[Yoongi's Apartment – 3 AM]
Jungkook didn't knock.
Yoongi didn't look up from his guitar. "Get out."
Jungkook leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Not until you say it."
Yoongi's fingers stilled on the strings. "Say what?" "Whatever you're thinking."
A long pause. Then—
"You're a coward."
Jungkook flinched.
Yoongi finally turned, his gaze piercing. "You love her. And instead of owning it, you'd rather destroy her—and yourself—just so you don't have to admit you're scared."
Jungkook's throat burned. "You don't know shit."
"I know you." Yoongi stood, stepping closer. "And I know you're going to regret this for the rest of your life."
Jungkook turned away.
--
[Taehyungie's Bedroom – Night]
She didn't cry this time. She just stared at her ceiling, replaying every touch, every whispered word, every lie.
Her phone buzzed.
[Minie💕: 11:11 PM]: You okay?
Taehyungie typed, deleted, then typed again.
[Taetae💝: 11:12 PM]: Never been better !
She wasn't sure she believed it.
--
To Be Continued...🤍🤍🤍
Chapter Text
[Jungkook's Penthouse – Midnight]
The phone rang like a gunshot in the dark.
Jungkook didn't need to check the caller ID. Only one person called at this hour. "Father."
"Jeon Jungkook." The voice on the other end was crisp, American vowels cutting through static. "How are you son?"
Jungkook sat up straight, "Good Father," he swore he could see his Father's curt nod. "I hope there is no scandal for your future. You need to take over the company with confidence and grace. No distractions! The board is watching you, I'm watching you"
Ice slid down Jungkook's spine. "Yes, father."
Jungkook's grip tightened on the phone. "H-how is mom?"
"Your mother is fine, son. She can't wait to see you," Jungkook smiled softly. "Tell her I miss her," he says. His father hums, then the line goes dead.
Jungkook stared at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows.
No more mistakes.
--
[Taehyungie's Bedroom – Dawn]
Fabric swatches covered every surface. Taehyungie hunched over her sketchbook, pencil flying across the page. A gown took shape—bold, asymmetrical, alive with the kind of fire she'd buried for years.
"Tae?" Namjoon peeked in, two steaming mugs in hand. "You've been up all night." She didn't look up. "This one's special."
Namjoon set the coffee beside her, studying the design. "It's you."
Taehyung finally smiled. "Yeah." Namjoon smiles softly, his baby sister is back. The reason of her glumness didn't click to him to find out.
Jiminie burst in, waving a magazine, her night wear crumbled "Vogue is hosting a student design competition! You have to enter!"
Jinnie followed, already holding up Taehyungie's favorite fabric. "We're making this happen."
Taehyungie chest swelled.
For the first time in weeks, the ache in her heart felt smaller than the dream in her hands.
--
[School Courtyard – Lunchtime]
Jungkook sat alone.
Not that he cared. He didn't. He couldn't.
Hoseok's laughter carried from across the quad, too loud, too happy.
Yoongi was the only one who looked at him.
Just once. Just long enough for Jungkook to see the disappointment.
Pathetic.
He crushed his empty soda can and walked away.
--
[Music Room – After School]
Jiminie balanced on the edge of Yoongi's piano, swinging her legs. "You're staring."
Yoongi didn't look up from the keys. "Am not."
"Liar." She poked his cheek. "Your ears are red." A wrong note. Yoongi scowled. "You're distracting me."
"Good." Jiminie leaned closer. "Distract me back."
Silence. Then—
"Be my girlfriend."
Jiminie froze. "...What?"
Yoongi finally met her eyes, his usual coolness replaced by something terrifyingly vulnerable. "You heard me."
Jiminie's grin could've powered cities. "Took you long enough."
When she kissed him, Yoongi's hands left the piano entirely.
--
[Taehyungie's Fashion Studio – Late Afternoon]
Taehyungie's vision blurred first.
She had been hunched over her latest sketch—a flowing, asymmetrical gown with delicate floral embroidery—when the room suddenly tilted. Her pencil slipped from her fingers, and the last thing she heard was Jiminie's sharp gasp before everything went black.
"Tae? Taetae!" When she got her consciousness, she was slumped against Jinnie, Jiminie frantically fanning her face with a sketchpad.
"What... happened?" Taehyungie mumbled, blinking up at their worried faces. Jiminie voice was uncharacteristically shaky. "You fainted, you idiot!"
Jinnie pressed the back of her hand to Taehyungie's forehead. "You're burning up. We're taking you home."
Taehyung tried to protest, but her limbs felt like lead.
--
[Taehyungie's Bedroom – Evening]
The doctor's expression was unreadable as he finished his examination. "Miss Kim, have you been experiencing any nausea? Fatigue?"
Taehyungie frowned. "I mean... I've been stressed with my designs, so I thought—"
"When was your last period?"
Silence.
Jiminie and Jinnie exchanged glances.
Taehyungie's stomach dropped.
No.
It couldn't be.
The doctor sighed, removing his stethoscope. "I'll need a urine sample to confirm, but given your symptoms, I suspect you're pregnant."
The room spun.
"That's impossible," Taehyungie whispered.
But it wasn't. She knew it wasn't.
Later*
The pregnancy test sat on the edge of the sink.
Taehyungie stared at it, her reflection pale in the mirror.
Two pink lines.
Again.
History repeating itself.
A knock.
"Tae?" Jiminie's voice was soft. "Can I come in?"
Taehyungie didn't answer.
The door creaked open anyway.
Jiminie took one look at the test—then pulled Taehyungie into a crushing hug. Taehyungie breaks down into heart wrenching sobs
"Its fine, you're fine, we're fine" she breathed.
Jinnie appeared behind them, her eyes widening with unshed tears. She joins the hug and kisses her cheeks. "We are here, every step of the way"
They didn't know the father but they will know. Sooner or later.
- -
[Taehyungie's Apartment – Night]
The air was thick with the weight of unspoken words.
Taehyungie sat curled up on her couch, arms wrapped around herself, while Jiminie and Jinnie stared at her with wide, guilt-stricken eyes.
"You've been carrying this alone?" Jiminie's voice cracked.
Taehyungie nodded, fingers tracing idle patterns on her sweater. "I didn't want to burden you."
Jinnie's face crumpled. "Burden us? Tae, we're your best friends."
"I know," Taehyungie whispered. "But you were happy. Jiminie with Yoongi, you with Namjoon... I didn't want to ruin that."
Jiminie's eyes filled with tears. "You idiot." She launched forward, pulling Taehyungie into a crushing hug. "We're never too busy for you."
Jinnie joined the embrace, her voice firm. "We're in this together, okay? No more secrets."
Taehyungie buried her face in their shoulders, finally letting herself break.
After she calms down, Jinnie hands her hot tea. She accepts with a smile.
But she gripped her mug tightly. "You can't tell Namjoon hyung"
Jinnie hesitated. "Tae... he's your brother."
"Exactly," Taehyungie said, her voice trembling. "He'll kill Jungkook. And I—I can't deal with that right now."
Jiminie bit her lip. "But Jungkook deserves to know."
Taehyungie's breath hitched. "Why? I can manage by myself"
Silence.
Jinnie reached for her hand. "He's still the father."
Taehyungie looked away.
--
[Next Morning – Café]
Jiminie stirred her iced coffee aggressively. "We have to tell Jungkook."
Jinnie sighed. "It's not our place—"
"It is," Jiminie insisted. "If Tae won't do it, then we should."
Jinnie's phone buzzed—a text from Namjoon.
[Joonie❤️: 10:15 AM]: Everything okay? You've been quiet.
Jinnie's fingers hovered over the screen before she locked it. "We promised Tae."
Jiminie groaned. "Since when do we enable self-destruction?"
Jinnie met her gaze. "Since she asked us to."
--
Jungkook stared blankly at the contract in front of him, his father's words echoing in his skull.
"You're the future of this company. Act like it."
His phone lit up—Hoseok, again.
*[Hoseok: 10:30 AM]*: Dude. Answer your texts.
Jungkook ignored it.
--
[Taehyungie's Studio – Afternoon]
Taehyungie pressed a hand to her still-flat stomach, staring at her latest design—a gown with two tiny handprints hidden in the embroidery.
Jiminie watched from the doorway. "You're really not going to tell him?"
Taehyungie's voice was steel. "No." "What if he finds out?"
"I'll tell him when I'm ready"
--
The elevator ride to Jungkook's penthouse was silent. Taehyungie clutched the envelope tighter in her hand, her fingers trembling.
Inside was the ultrasound.
She had stared at it for hours after her appointment — her heart caught between terror and awe. A tiny shape, not even fully formed yet... but real.
Their baby.
Her heart raced as the elevator doors opened. She stepped into the sleek, cold space of Jungkook's world. Her trembling fingers press the door bell, her heart thumping as she waits.
She is startled when the door opens. Jungkook expression shifts to surprise but he masked it all too well.
"Taehyungie? What the fuck are you doing here" he asked, and enters the house, leaving the door opened. Taehyungie quietly enters. She stands behind Jungkook "I- i went to the hospital today," she said quietly, her voice shaking despite how many times she'd rehearsed this moment. "I brought you something."
She stepped forward and placed the envelope on the coffee table.
Jungkook turned and looked at it for a moment before letting out a sigh — more annoyed than curious.
"What is this?" he asked, rubbing his temple like she was a headache.
Taehyungie blinked, taken aback. "Just open it."
"I don't have time for this," he snapped. "If this is about whatever drama you've built up again—"
"Just look at it" She says. Jungkook takes the envelope and rips it open, his eyes flicked to the grainy black-and-white image, his brow furrowing. "What is that?"
"It's an ultrasound."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"And?"
Taehyungie's breath hitched. "And? It's yours, Jungkook."
His expression darkened. "That's not possible."
"It is," she whispered. "I'm pregnant."
Silence again.
He ran a hand through his hair, stepping back like the words physically hit him. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I'm not," she whispered.
"You expect me to believe that?"
Taehyungie's eyes burned. "Believe what you want. It's the truth."
Jungkook's jaw clenched. "Then get rid of it."
The words hit like a slap.
Taehyungie took a step back, her chest heaving. "You don't mean that."
"I do," he snapped. "This is your problem, not mine."
"Our problem," she corrected, her voice trembling.
"Well, I'm too young for this!," he snapped suddenly, pacing like a storm. "I can't be a dad — this isn't supposed to be my life."
Taehyungie's voice cracked. "I'm younger than you. Do you think I planned this?! I'm scared too, Jungkook!"
He turned on her, frustration burning in his eyes. "This is exactly why I didn't want anything more to happen between us again!"
Taehyungie froze. "What are you saying?"
"I shouldn't have slept with you," he muttered, avoiding her eyes.
"What?" her voice was barely a whisper now.
He shut his eyes, jaw clenched. "It was a dare, Taehyungie. That night... it was a stupid dare. That's all."
Silence.
Dead, brutal silence.
Taehyungie blinked, as if trying to reset reality.
Then the words hit.
Hard.
Her hand flew across his face before she even realized she'd moved.
The slap echoed through the room.
"You..." she choked out, her whole body shaking, "You used me?! You lied to me again? After everything — after our past?!"
"I didn't mean to—"
"Don't!" she screamed, tears now spilling down her cheeks. "Don't even try to lie again. God, you're worse than I ever imagined."
He tried to reach for her, guilt breaking through. "Tae, I—"
"No!" she backed away. "You don't get to touch me. You don't get to hurt me and pretend it meant nothing."
"You think this is easy for me?" he shouted. "I didn't ask for a child!"
"And I didn't ask to fall in love with a coward!"
Silence again.
Just their heavy breathing.
Just the space between them growing larger.
"I hate you, Jungkook," she whispered, voice raw and broken. "I hate you for what you did. And I hate myself more for loving you."
Then she turned.
And walked out.
Leaving the copy ultrasound photo behind.
Taehyungie's knees nearly buckled as enters the elevator.
It was a dare.
All of it.
The party. The touches. The way he'd looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered—
Lies.
She turned on her heel, her vision blurring.
The elevator doors closed behind her, muffling the sound of her shattered heart.
--
[Taehyungie's Bathroom – Dawn]
Jiminie and Jinnie found her on the bathroom floor, the ultrasound photo crumpled in her fist.
Jiminie dropped to her knees, pulling Taehyungie into her arms. "Oh my god. Tae."
Jinnie's hands shook as she pried the photo from Taehyungie's grip, smoothing it out. "He knows?"
Taehyungie's laugh was hollow. "He didn't care."
Jiminie's eyes burned with fury. "I'll kill him."
"No." Taehyungie wiped her face. "He's not worth it."
--
Taehyungie sat curled up on the couch, her fingers wrapped tightly around a mug of tea that had long gone cold. Jiminie and Jinnie sat on either side of her, their expressions shifting from concern to horror as the words spilled out.
"It was a dare," Taehyungie whispered, her voice hollow. "All of it. He only slept with me because of a stupid game."
Jiminie's hands clenched into fists. "That bastard."
Jinnie's face paled. "And he... he denied the baby?"
Taehyungie nodded, her throat tight. "Told me to 'get rid of it.' "
A sharp inhale.
Then—
"WHAT?!"
The door slammed open.
Namjoon stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide, his breath coming in short bursts.
"Taehyungie," he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm. "Ju-jungkook slept with you?"
Silence.
Taehyungie's stomach dropped.
Jinnie shot to her feet. "Joon, wait—"
Namjoon ignored her, his gaze locked onto his sister "A-and y-you're pregnant?"
Taehyungie's lips trembled. "I... I was going to tell you."
"When?" Namjoon's voice cracked.
Jiminie stepped between them. "Namjoon, breathe—"
"DON'T TELL ME TO BREATHE!"
The walls shook with his fury.
Jinnie grabbed his arm. "You're scaring her."
Namjoon wrenched free, his chest heaving. "And you." He turned on Jinnie, his eyes blazing. "You knew?"
Jinnie flinched. "I—I promised Taehyungie I wouldn't say anything."
"I'm your boyfriend!"
"And she's my best friend!" Jinnie shot back, tears in her eyes. "This wasn't my secret to tell!"
Namjoon staggered back like he'd been hit.
Taehyungie stood, her voice small "Stop please. Both of you."
Namjoon's anger flickered, replaced by something raw and broken. "Tae..."
"I'm keeping it," she said, pressing a hand to her stomach. "It's my child"
--
Later
"You lied to me." Namjoon's voice was ice.
Jinnie crossed her arms. "I protected her."
"From me?"
"From everyone!" Jinnie's tears spilled over. "She was lonely, Joon. I-if I h-had noticed sooner..."
Silence.
"You knew about the dare."
Not a question. An accusation.
Namjoon froze.
"...Yeah." Jinnie's breath hitched. "When?"
"The day the dare was said." Namjoon couldn't meet her eyes.
The glass shattered against the wall.
"AND YOU DIDN'T STOP IT?!"
Namjoon flinched "I warned him! I said if he touched her—"
"You what?" Jinnie's voice turned dangerously quiet. "You gave him a stern talking-to while your sister's heart was on the line?"
Namjoon's chair screeched as he stood. "You think I'm not destroyed by this? That night—I told him—"
"Words don't matter!" Jinnie's fists trembled. "You should've told me. You should've told Taehyungie—"
"And have her look at me like this?" Namjoon gestured to Jinnie's tear-streaked face. "Like I'm just another man who failed her?"
Silence.
Jinnie stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. "You did fail her."
Namjoon said nothing. Because he knew.
--
"You knew." Jiminie shoved Yoongi's chest. "This whole time."
Yoongi didn't defend himself. "I tried to stop it."
"NOT ENOUGH!" Her scream echoed through the practice room. "She's not herself, Yoongi!"
Yoongi caught Jiminie's wrist, his eyes filled with regret.
Jiminie ripped her arm away, a broken laugh escaping. "My best friend is pregnant because of some disgusting bet and you—" Her voice cracked. "You protected him?"
Yoongi flinched. "I tried to stop it—"
"NOT ENOUGH!" A vase shattered against the wall. "She fainted at her studio last week, Yoongi! Do you know how scared i was?"
Yoongi caught her as her knees gave out, her tears soaking his shirt. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so fucking sorry."
For the first time, his hands shook.
--
[Jungkook's Penthouse - 3 AM]
Namjoon didn't knock.
The doorframe splintered under his kick, revealing Jungkook silhouetted against the city lights, whiskey in hand.
"Ah." A slow sip. "The brother."
Namjoon's fist connected before Jungkook finished speaking.
Crack.
Blood sprayed across the marble. Jungkook laughed through split lips, spitting red. "That's all?"
Crunch. Another hit. Another laugh.
"You smug bastard, how fucking dare you!" Namjoon snarled, slamming him into the glass wall. Jungkook laughed "I told you I'll do it"
Namjoon slaps him hard, he falls on the ground "You fucking got her pregnant!"
For half a second—a flicker. Then Jungkook's smirk returned. "And? I told her to fix it."
Namjoon's knee jammed into his gut. "You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her."
Jungkook wheezed, grinning. "Yet here I am." He wiped his mouth. "Tell Taehyungie something for me?"
Crack.
Namjoon's knuckles split open on his teeth. "Don't you say her name."
Jungkook slumped against the glass, bloodied but still smiling. "Tell her... thanks for the good time. Her pussy was as tight as before" Namjoon sees red. He punches him hard making Jungkook cough his lungs out, watches as Namjoon leaves.
The elevator doors closed on Namjoon's roar of rage. Only then did Jungkook's smile die.
--
[Same Night - Jungkook's Bathroom]
Blood swirled down the drain.
Jungkook stared at his reflection—swollen eye, busted lip, purple bruises and he is sure a broken rib.
She'll be fine.
He repeated it like a prayer.
She's stronger than me. Father wont know. He'll be proud of me.
Taehyungie will probably abort the baby.
Later that day...
The door burst open without a knock.
Hoseok stood dripping in the doorway, his usual sunshine smile replaced by something colder. "You actually did it." he ignored the bruises on his skin.
Jungkook didn't look up from his whiskey. "Did what."
"You got her pregnant, you bastard." Hoseok kicked the door shut. "Yoongi told me everything."
A slow sip. "And?"
"AND?" Hoseok's fist slammed onto the marble counter, making the glasses rattle. "What have you done Jungkook!? Have you ever thought of her feelings? Her mental state!"
Jungkook swirled his drink, watching the ice cubes clink. "She'll come back."
"Are you listening to yourself?" Hoseok's voice cracked. "She's pregnant with your child—"
"Was." Jungkook finally met his eyes. "She's not stupid enough to keep it."
The silence that followed was louder than the storm outside.
Hoseok stared at him like he was seeing a stranger. "...You really believe that."
Jungkook turned back to the window. "It's done."
Hoseok grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn. "Do you still love her?"
Jungkook's fingers tightened around his glass.
Yes.
Always.
It's killing me.
He took another drink instead.
Hoseok exhaled sharply, releasing him. "You're a fool."
Jungkook smirked. "Tell me something I don't know."
Hoseok headed for the door but paused with his hand on the knob. "You think you're protecting yourself? This?" He gestured to the empty penthouse. "This is hell. And you built it yourself."
The door slammed.
Jungkook waited until Hoseok's footsteps faded before hurling his glass at the wall.
It shattered like his resolve.
--
Jungkook is a dick.
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
Am I going too fast? Please tell me your thoughts to work harder🤍
Chapter Text
[Taehyung's Bedroom - Dusk]
Namjoon found her curled on the window seat, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the first stars blinking to life over Seoul. The tear tracks on her face had long dried, leaving her cheeks flushed like crushed rose petals.
He hovered in the doorway, his throat tight. "Can I...?"
Taehyungie didn't turn, but her fingers twitched against her knees—come in.
Namjoon sat beside her, their shoulders barely touching. The apology sat heavy on his tongue for three full minutes before he choked it out.
"I was an idiot."
A breeze ruffled the curtains. Taehyungie's silence stretched.
"I knew about the dare," he admitted, hands clenching. "I warned him, but—" His voice cracked. "I should've told you. I failed you."
Silence. Then--
Taehyungie finally turned. Her eyes weren't angry—just tired. "You didn't fail me, Joonie hyung."
Namjoon's breath hitched.
She reached for his hand, pressing it to her slightly rounded stomach. "But you're going to be a terrible uncle if you keep moping."
A wet laugh burst from Namjoon's chest. "Eighteen and an uncle. Jesus."
"Twice over," Taehyungie whispered.
Namjoon froze. "Twins?"
Her small nod, "The...umm the doctor mentioned it. I---I just didn't know how to say it. One was already huge news, now two." Namjoon's eyes glossed, he crushed her to his chest, his tears soaking her hair. "God, Taehyungie-ah..."
She clung to him, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"nonsense" Namjoon scoffed with happy tears.
Later, over shared tteokbokki, Taehyungie traced the rim of her soda can. "I'm thinking of leaving. Paris."
Namjoon's chopsticks paused. "Fashion school?"
A nod. "I... I can't raise them here."
Where he might see. Where it might hurt.
Namjoon studied her—the new steel in her spine, the way her hands instinctively cradled her stomach. His baby sister wasn't asking permission.
He nudged her foot with his. "Send me ugly baby photos every day."
Taehyungie kicked him back, grinning. "Only if you spoil them when they grow up."
"Deal." Namjoon uttered and Taehyungie bursts into giggles.
--
[Taehyungie and Namjoon's Living Room]
Taehyungie placed the ultrasound photo on the coffee table like a sacred offering.
Jiminie gasped first. "Two?"
Jinnie's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my god—twins? I thought it was one?"
The grainy image showed two tiny beans curled together, their heartbeats printed in bold letters: *154 BPM | 148 BPM*.
Taehyungie's voice wavered. "Yeah, but the doctor heard another heart beat after she printed the first one and she realized it was two instead of one, soo....meet Baby A and Baby B."
Jiminie burst into tears.
Jinnie cradled the ultrasound like it might vanish. "They're perfect," she whispered, tracing the blurry shapes.
Jiminie clung to Taehyung's arm, hiccupping. "I'm gonna be their favorite aunt! I'll spoil them rotten—"
"Like hell!" Jinnie sniffled. "I'm teaching them how to bake—"
Taehyungie laughed wetly, pressing her hands to her stomach. "They're not even born yet and you're already fighting over them."
The room fell silent.
Jiminie's grip tightened. "...You're really leaving, aren't you?"
Sunlight dripped across the ultrasound, illuminating the tiny lives Taehyungie would protect at any cost.
"Yes."
Jiminie shot up. "Then I'm coming."
Taehyungie blinked. "What?"
"I'll transfer to Paris University. Work part-time at a café. I don't care." Jiminie crossed her arms. "You're not raising them alone."
Jinnie nodded fiercely. "And I'll visit every—"
"No." Taehyungie stood abruptly. "You can't."
Jiminie's eyes flashed. "No Tae. You need someone to assist you. I'll go. I'm ready. My passport might not be ready now but i can catch up a few days later."
"Minie." Taehyung's voice cracked.
Jiminie sniffed. "I love you bear. Okay lets do this. I'll go with you and Jinnie will stay with Namjoon. She's his girlfriend after all. A-and they'll manage the business your parents left behind."
Taehyungie looked at her best friends and sniffs when Jinnie nods at her with a soft smile. She cries and pulls her into a crushing hug. "I'll video-call every day. You'll be sick of me."
"I wouldn't want it either way" she whispered back
"I love you all so much" Taehyungie sobs. "We love you more bear" Jinnie kisses her temple.
--
[Incheon Airport - Departure Day]
Jiminie sobbed into Taehyungie's shoulder. "Name one after me! I'll be there but I'm planning ahead!"
"One?" Jinnie scoffed through tears. "Name both after us!"
Namjoon lifted Taehyungie's luggage with red-rimmed eyes. "Text when you land. Every stop."
Taehyungie pressed a hand to her stomach—their secret—and nodded.
As she walked toward security, she heard Jiminie yell:
"THEY BETTER HAVE MY EYES, KIM TAEHYUNGIE!"
She laughed hard.
--
[Jiminie's Apartment] - Days 3 later
Jiminie's phone buzzed for the 47th time that hour.
*Unknown Number:* Babe. Please. She knew who it was, blocking his number wasn't enough huh?
She threw her phone across the bed. It skidded to a stop beside the half-packed suitcase—Paris departure in two weeks.
The doorbell rang.
Again.
Again.
Then—
**THUD THUD THUD**
"Jiminie!" Yoongi's voice, raw and desperate, seeped through the wood. "I know you're in there!"
Jiminie pressed her forehead to the door, nails digging into her palms. Don't open it. Don't—
The knocking stopped. A ragged breath. Then—
"I love you."
Her hand twisted the knob before she could stop herself.
Yoongi looked wrecked. Hair sticking up in every direction, dark circles bruising his eyes, still wearing the same hoodie from three days ago.
Jiminie's resolve wavered.
"I'm sorry," he choked out. "Fuck, babe, I'm so sorry—"
She shoved him back. "She's pregnant, Yoongi! She left because your monster of a best friend—"
Yoongi caught her wrists. "I'll fix it."
Jiminie laughed bitterly. "How? By apologizing? It's too late—"
"I'll fly to where ever she is" His thumbs brushed her pulse points. "I'll get on my knees if I have to. But please." His voice broke. "Don't shut me out."
Jiminie's breath hitched.
Yoongi pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you. And I'll spend every damn day proving it."
Jiminie's fingers twisted in his hoodie. "You'll call Taehyungie tonight."
"Yes."
"You'll never keep secrets from me again."
"Never."
She yanked him inside, the door slamming behind them.
Three hours later, Yoongi made the call.
Taehyungie's voice was soft through the static: "It's okay, hyung. I know it wasn't you."
Later..
Jiminie pressed a steaming mug into Yoongi's hands. "She'll be okay."
Yoongi stared at the melting marshmallows. "Will we?"
Jiminie kissed his cheek. "Ask me again in Paris."
--
The taxi slowed down as the apartment building came into view.
Taehyungie pressed her forehead to the window, a soft smile ghosting her lips as she watched the lights of Paris shimmer around her like stars. There was something about the city — the quiet elegance, the sense of new beginnings — that made her feel like she could breathe again.
This was her fresh start.
Her safe place.
Her sanctuary away from him.
She reached her apartment and turned the key with a satisfying click.
Taehyungie stepped into the empty apartment, golden light pooling on the hardwood floors. Distant accordion music floated through the open window along with the scent of fresh bread.
Her hands instinctively cradled her stomach.
"Welcome home," she whispered.
--
Two weeks later..
[Incheon Airport]
Jiminie adjusted her oversized sunglasses, failing to hide her puffy eyes.
Yoongi tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Take this." A black credit card.
Jinnie gasped. "Yah! Are you bribing her to stay?"
"No." Yoongi's voice was rough. "I'm bribing her to be happy."
Namjoon hugged Jimin tightly. "Tell Taehyungie..." His voice cracked. "Tell her the nursery is ready whenever she wants it."
Jiminie nods. she hugs Jinnie "I'll miss you Jinnie. And your pink frying pans"
Jinnie sniffed "Yah!" but she laughs. Jiminie hugs Yoongi lasts.
"I love you my yoonie. I'll text and video call every day." she whispers.
Yoongi wipes her tears "I know. I'll miss you too babe. Take care of Taehyungie for us. I love you" They kiss softly.
"Passengers must begin boarding the plane" a voice echoed. They pulled away. Jiminie takes her luggage, heading towards the terminal.
Yoongi, Jinnie, and Namjoon stood near the gate as Jiminie waved one last time before disappearing into the terminal.
"Tell her to eat well!" Jinnie called.
"And rest!" Namjoon added.
"I'll send photos of the Eiffel Tower and maybe one French guy," Jimin teased with a wink, then disappeared behind the crowd.
The moment she was out of sight, Yoongi sighed. "Feels weird without her already."
Jinnie snorted "Didn't take you for a lover boy"
Namjoon laughs and Yoongi pretends he didn't hear but his reddened cheeks speak volumes.
---
Taehyungie hummed as she munches on her pancake, her lips formed into a pout. Her phone buzzed on the table.
Minie💕: Landing at 6pm! I miss you already🥹❤️. PS: I brought kimchi. PPS: And Yoonie's credit card.
Taehyungie chuckled, her heart warming.
--
[Jungkook's penthouse- Night]
The door opened with a creak. Hoseok stepped in first, followed by Yoongi, the penthouse smelled like sadness, depression and liquor. Jungkook was on the floor near the couch, hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, his living room dim and heavy with silence.
He didn't even bother looking up.
"You look like hell," Hoseok said softly.
"Thanks," Jungkook muttered, voice hoarse.
Yoongi sat beside him, watching.
Jungkook swallowed hard, fingers clenched into fists.
"I'm in love with her," he whispered, voice breaking. "Taehyungie. I've always been in love with her. I love her so much it's killing me."
Hoseok stepped forward. "Kook--"
He laughed bitterly. "But I ruined everything. I broke her. I told her things I didn't mean, just because I was scared. Scared of how much I love her."
Yoongi's eyes softened, but he stayed quiet.
Jungkook pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Our night together... it was magical. It reminded me of everything we once had, and everything we could be. And I killed it. With my own hands. I hate myself for that. It wasn't a dare. It was her. It always has been her."
His voice cracked. "I told her it was a dare, Yoongi. I told her the worst possible lie because I didn't know how to tell her that it meant everything to me. I just didn't know how to be enough for her."
Hoseok handed him a tissue "You're an idiot". A wet laugh rips out of him "yeah"
He looked up, tears slipping freely down his face, his eyes red-rimmed. "Help me. Please. I'll--I'll beg. Help me make it right. I want to beg for her forgiveness — crawl if I have to. I'll do anything."
"I never meant it!" His voice shattered like the crystal. "That night—when I told her to—to—"
The word lodged in his throat like broken glass. Hoseok and Yoongi stood frozen as Jungkook collapsed onto his knees, his designer jeans soaking up the spilled liquor.
"I was scared," he choked out. "Not of the baby. Of her." His fists clenched against the floor. "Of how much I wanted it. How much I wanted... everything." He didn't care what his father would have thought.
A tear splattered onto the marble. Jungkook's breath hitched. "I regret it. Every fucking second. Every word." His fingers dug into his hair. "I want that baby. I want them. I want—"
Her.
The unspoken name hung in the air like smoke. Yoongi watched. Pained. His phone buzzed. Jiminie's latest text glowed onscreen: "Paris is beautiful." Yoongi squeezed Jungkook's shoulder. "She's gone, man."
Jungkook's face crumpled. "Gone?"
"Left two weeks ago." Yoongi uttered sadly
Jungkook made a sound like a wounded animal. "W-where to??" he stammered.
"I...I don't know Kook" he whispered
Jungkook collapsed back against the couch, staring into nothing.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
Kudos me🥺
Chapter 10: Hollow
Chapter Text
[Jungkook's Penthouse – Dawn]
Yoongi adjusted the blanket over Jungkook's shoulders one last time before stepping back. Hoseok lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the rise and fall of Jungkook's chest.
"He's out cold," Yoongi muttered, rubbing his temples. "Let's go."
Hoseok hesitated, then sighed. "He's gonna regret everything again when he wakes up."
Yoongi didn't answer. He just turned off the lights and closed the door behind them.
[Next Morning – Jungkook's Bedroom]
Sunlight stabbed through the curtains, dragging Jungkook back to consciousness. His head pounded like a drum, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He groaned, rolling onto his back, the events of last night crashing into him like a freight train.
Taehyungie. The dare. The baby.
His stomach twisted.
He sat up too fast, wincing at the ache in his muscles. The penthouse was silent—no Yoongi, no Hoseok. Just him and the suffocating weight of his mistakes.
He dragged himself to the shower, letting the scalding water burn away the remnants of his drunken haze. But no amount of water could wash away the image of Taehyungie's tear-streaked face when he'd told her to get rid of it.
His hands shook as he dressed.
He needed to fix this.
[Namjoon's House – Late Morning]
The smell of breakfast filled the air—scrambled eggs, kimchi, freshly brewed coffee. Namjoon and Jinnie sat at the table, chopsticks clinking against bowls, lost in quiet conversation.
Then the doorbell rang. Namjoon frowned, pushing back from the table. "Who the hell—?"
He opened the door.
And froze. Jungkook stood on the doorstep, hollow-eyed, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world had settled there.
Namjoon's expression darkened instantly. "Get the fuck out."
Jungkook didn't move. His throat worked, but no sound came out.
Jinnie appeared behind Namjoon, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "Jungkook?"
He swallowed hard. Then, without warning, his knees hit the floor.
"I'm sorry." Namjoon's fists clenched. "You think that fixes anything?"
Jungkook's voice was raw. "No. But I had to say it."
Jinnie's lips pressed into a thin line. "She's gone, Jungkook." His breath hitched. "Where?" his eyes hopeful.
Namjoon stepped forward, blocking the doorway. "You don't get to know."
Jungkook flinched like he'd been struck. Jinnie crossed her arms. "You told her to abort your child. You don't get to act like you care now."
Jungkook's hands curled into fists against his thighs. "I was scared. I didn't—"
"Save it," Namjoon cut in, voice sharp. "You made your choice."
Jungkook's head dropped, his shoulders trembling.
Silence.
Then—
"Get up," Jinnie said quietly.
Jungkook looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. But Jinnie's expression was unreadable. "Go home, Jungkook."
Namjoon shut the door in his face.
[Outside]
Jungkook stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Then he turned and walked away.
The streets of Seoul blurred around him.
He had no idea where to go.
--
[Taehyungie's Apartment - Evening]
The door burst open before Jiminie could knock. "You brought kimchi?" Taehyungie gasped, snatching the jar from Jiminie's hands like it was gold.
Jiminie grinned, kicking her suitcase inside. "And gochujang. And three packs of samyang." She flopped onto the couch, arms spread. "Welcome to your new life, Madame Designer."
Taehyungie's tiny studio apartment was already alive—sketches pinned to every wall, fabric swatches draped over chairs, a half-finished maternity dress on the mannequin.
Jiminie's eyes dropped to Taehyungie's barely-there bump. "And how are my nieces today?"
"Or nephews," Taehyungie laughed, rubbing her stomach.
"Nope." Jiminie pointed. "Twin girls. I feel it."
Jiminie spun Taehyungie's sketchbook toward her. "You have to submit to Vogue's new designers showcase."
Taehyungie hesitated. "I'm not ready—" "Bullshit." Jiminie tapped a bold, asymmetrical gown design. "This is genius. Paris won't know what hit it."
Taehyungie bit her lip, her mind drifting off somewhere. "...What if they ask about the father?"
A beat of silence.
Jiminie squeezed her hand. "Then you say nothing. This is your story."
--
[Video Call with Namjoon & Jinnie - Midnight]
Namjoon's pixelated face filled the screen. "You eating? Sleeping?"
Taehyungie rolled her eyes. "Yes, Appa."
Jinnie shoved into frame, holding up a tiny knitted bootie. "Look what I made! They'll need pairs, obviously—"
Jiminie snorted. "You realize it's July, right? They're not due until—"
"Hush! Winter comes fast!"
Laughter echoed through the apartment—warm, bright, alive. Not once did Taehyungie ask about Seoul. Not once did they mention him.
Later...
As Jiminie slept in her room, Taehyungie tiptoed to the balcony, pressing a hand to her stomach.
"You'll never feel unloved," she whispered to the night sky. Somewhere over the Seine, fireworks burst—gold against the dark.
A new beginning.
Somewhere in Seoul, a man drank alone in the dark.
[Paris - Taehyungie's Balcony | Seoul - Yoongi's Studio]
Jimin curled her bare toes against the wrought-iron railing, Paris glittering below her. The phone pressed to her ear felt like the last tether to a life she'd left behind.
"I miss you," Yoongi's voice crackled through the line.
A sigh escaped her. "I miss you too."
Silence. Not the comfortable kind.
Then—
"Jungkook's not eating."
Jiminie's grip tightened. "Don't." Yoongi's voice was ragged through the line. "He broke down, Jiminie. Full-on collapsed. Said he was... scared. Of how much he loved her."
A bitter laugh tore from Jiminie's throat. "Oh, now he admits it? After he destroyed her?" She turned to glance through the window—Taehyungie asleep in her room, her door slightly open, one hand curled protectively over her stomach.
"He's a coward," she hissed. "He doesn't get to be scared after what he did. You think Taehyungie wasn't scared? She's seventeen, Yoongi. Alone in a foreign country with twins because he couldn't handle his own feelings!"
"He showed up at Namjoon's. Begged—"
"Good." The word came out sharper than she meant. "He should suffer." Yoongi exhaled. "Minie-ah—"
"Why are you telling me this?" Jimin's voice cracked. "Do you want me to feel sorry for him?"
"No." A sigh. "I just... needed you to know the truth." Yoongi's voice dropped. "He's my best friend."
"And Taehyungie is mine." Jiminie's nails bit into her palm. "If you ever tell him where we are—"
"I won't." A beat. "...But he's breaking, Minnie." Jiminie closed her eyes. "Let him."
Later, Jiminie slipped back inside, covering Taehyungie with a blanket, her heart aching.
*Seoul:* Yoongi stared at his reflection in the studio window, wondering when loyalty became a knife.
And somewhere in between, Jungkook sat on his penthouse floor, clutching an ultrasound photo he wasn't supposed to have. The grainy black-and-white image trembled in Jungkook's hands.
Taehyungie had left it behind. A silent accusation. A ghost of the future he'd thrown away.
His thumb traced the picture, the words she'd whispered that night echoing in his skull: 'It's yours.'
And what had he said? 'Get rid of it.'
A broken sound tore from his throat. His fingers hastily grabs his phone, fingers dialed on their own.
Hoseok answered on the second ring, voice groggy with sleep. "...Kook?"
"Tell Namjoon—" Jungkook's breath hitched. "Tell him I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry."
Silence. Then— "You messed up Kook," Jungkook tightened the grip on his phone "Good night. You need sleep"
The line went dead.
Jungkook's phone slipped from his fingers. Numb. He didn't remember sinking to the floor.
Didn't remember curling into himself, the ultrasound pressed to his chest like a holy relic.
He just remembered the darkness swallowing him whole.
[4:17 AM ]
The phone screamed into the darkness.
Jungkook stared at the caller ID—*Father*—with bloodshot eyes. He'd been in the same spot for hours. Jungkook's head pounded as he grabbed the phone. "Father.."
His father's voice was razor-sharp. "We're returning to Seoul within a month son. You have to begin your training as next CEO"
A pause. Then— "Yes father"
Jungkook stared at the ultrasound on the floor. He didn't realized when the call ended.
The penthouse was silent. The heir to Jeon Industries sat alone in the dark, his empire handed to him on a silver platter—and all he could see was her.
Gone.
Because of him.
Two weeks later
[Vogue Paris Emerging Designers Showcase - Backstage]
Taehyungie's hands trembled as she adjusted the final model's sash. Her collection—Éphémère—whispered around them: delicate silk blossoms hand-sewn onto structured bodices, representing beauty that persists against all odds. Jiminie squeezed her shoulder. "They love it. I heard the judges gasping."
Taehyungie bit her lip. "Top twenty is enough. Just being here—" "Mademoiselle Kim?" A silver-haired woman in a navy blazer approached. "I'm Claire Laurent, head designer at Maison Duval."
Taehyungie's breath caught. The Claire Laurent—legend of Parisian avant-garde fashion. "You didn't win," Claire said bluntly. Then, with a sly smile: " But your design was mind blowing. It caught my eye, and because I pulled your application. I want you working for me, not competing."
Jiminie's nails dug into Taehyung's arm. "Your construction is flawless," Claire continued. "But it's the emotion in your pieces—like you stitched your own soul into them." She handed Taehyungie a card. "Start Monday."
what?
[Taehyung's Apartment - That Night]
Jiminie waved her phone wildly as Namjoon and Jinnie's pixelated faces cheered through the screen.
"MAISON DUVAL!?" Jinnie shrieked. "That's bigger than winning!"
Namjoon grinned. "Our Taehyungie, rubbing elbows with fashion royalty."*
Taehyungie glowed, her hands instinctively pressed to her stomach. "It's just an assistant position—"
"Just?" Jimin scoffed. "Anyone would be dying to be in your place"
Jinnie's pixelated face leaned closer to the screen, eyebrows pinched. "But the stress—the long hours—are you sure you can—?" Taehyungie laughed, "Claire knows. She insisted on flexible hours."
Jiminie popped into frame, mouth full of baguette. "You should've seen Madame Laurent's face when Taehyung said twins—"
"She cried!" Taehyungie giggled. "Told me her grandmother was a twin!"
Namjoon's voice crackled through the speaker. "And maternity leave?"
"Six months paid," Taehyungie confirmed, rubbing her stomach absently. "Claire said, 'Children are the only masterpieces more important than fashion.'"
Jinnie clutched her chest. "I'm adopting this woman."
[Flashback]
Claire Laurent had taken one look at Taehyungie's tentative stance in the interview chair and scoffed.
"Sit up, chérie. Pregnancy is not a weakness." She tapped Taehyungie's sketchbook. "This? *This is power. And power does not apologize for taking up space." Taehyungie's face flushed.
"Age?" she demanded, flipping through Taehyungie's portfolio. Taehyungie's fingers tightened around her sketchbook. "Seventeen."
Claire's pen froze mid-air. A beat of silence. Then—
"Seventeen," she repeated, her sharp gaze dropping to Taehyungie's barely visible bump. "And you're here. Alone. Fighting for this."
"I-- I came with my best friend" she stammered but she braced for the dismissal, the judgment— Claire slammed the portfolio shut. "I like you."
Taehyungie blinked. "The industry will eat you alive if they find out," Claire continued, leaning forward. "But I was nineteen when I started, and men half my talent got ten times my praise." Her manicured nail tapped the desk. "You'll face backlash. Can you handle that?"
Taehyungie's spine straightened. "Yes."
Claire's smile was all teeth. "Good. Then we'll tell them you're twenty-two."
Claire slid a contract across the desk. "You'll design two collections a year. Work from home when needed. And absolutely no heels after month seven." Her wink was razor-sharp. "I invented maternity chic."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 11: La Reine de Paris
Chapter Text
Five years later
[Paris Fashion Week – Backstage at Maison Duval]
The air hummed with chaos—models in half-laced corsets, assistants scrambling with steaming irons, the scent of hairspray and ambition thick enough to taste.
And in the center of it all, her.
Kim Taehyungie stood before a floor-length mirror, a vision in her own creation—a liquid-gold gown that clung to her like molten sunlight, the bodice embroidered with constellations stitched in black silk. The garment whispered power, screamed elegance, and left no room for doubt: this was her house now.
"Five minutes, Madame Kim!" a stagehand called
Taehyungie didn't flinch. She simply lifted a hand, and the room stilled.
"Where is Model Three's headpiece?" Her voice was calm, but the undercurrent of steel made interns scramble.
A flustered assistant rushed forward with a jeweled headband. "H-Here!"
Taehyungie took it, her fingers deft as she adjusted the piece onto the model's brow. "Breathe," she murmured, smoothing the girl's shoulders. "You'll own that runway."
The model straightened, confidence reignited.
Jiminie materialized at Taehyungie's side, a smirk playing on her lips as she adjusted the diamond cuffs on Taehyungie's wrists. "Look at you. Little Miss 'I'm just an assistant' five years ago, now holding an entire atelier in the palm of your hand."
Taehyungie's lips curled, but she didn't take the bait. "Lights?"
"Set."
"Music?"
"Cued."
She exhaled, rolling her shoulders back. "Then let's begin."
The moment the first model stepped onto the runway, the crowd fell silent.
Taehyungie's collection—Éclipse—was a masterpiece of contrasts. Midnight blacks slashed with silver, delicate lace paired with structured leather, softness and strength woven into every seam.
The critics leaned forward in their seats.
The cameras flashed like lightning.
And in the shadows of the backstage curtain, Taehyungie watched, her expression unreadable.
Jiminie nudged her. "They're eating out of your hand."
Taehyungie didn't smile. "Good."
Because this wasn't just a show. This was a statement.
[Backstage – Post-Show Celebration]
Champagne flowed. Cheeks were kissed. Editors and buyers clamored for her attention, but Taehyungie moved through the crowd like a queen—gracious, untouchable.
"Madame Kim!" A journalist pushed forward. "Rumor has it Claire Laurent is retiring. Will you be taking over Maison Duval?"
Taehyungie sipped her champagne, her smile enigmatic. "You'll have to wait and see."
Jiminie snorted into her glass. Because they both knew the answer.
Taehyungie didn't just play the game anymore.
She rewrote the rules.
--
[Maison Duval Atelier – Morning Fitting]
"No."
The word sliced through the studio like a blade.
Taehyungie didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
The junior designer in front of her paled. "B-But the client requested—"
"I don't care if the president himself requested it." Taehyungie flicked the flawed sketch back across the table. "This silhouette butchers the fabric's drape. Fix it."
A hush fell over the workroom. Five years ago, she might've softened the blow. Now?
Now she was Kim Taehyungie—Creative Director of Maison Duval, the Vogue-dubbed "Phoenix of Paris", a woman who'd clawed her way from ruin to reign.
Jiminie leaned against the doorway, smirking. "Remind me never to piss you off before coffee."
Taehyungie didn't smile. "You're late for the Dior meeting."
"Already rescheduled." Jiminie tossed her a dossier. "The Italians are begging for a collab. I told them you'd consider it... after they triple their offer."
A beat. Then—
"Good."
Because this was who she was now: ruthless when necessary, untouchable always.
[Studio]
Taehyungie was mid-rant about iridescent sequins being an abomination when—
"MOMMY."
Two tiny tornados in matching berets barreled into the atelier, their chauffeur scrambling after them.
Instantly, the ice in Taehyungie's veins melted "Taehyun! Taeri!" She crouched just in time to catch them, their small hands immediately tangling in her hair. "What did I say about running in the studio?"
"But Tonton Marcel let us feed pigeons!" Taeri gasped, her doe eyes—his eyes—wide with excitement.
Taehyun nodded solemnly, clutching a half-squashed macaron. "We saved you one."
The entire workroom watched, transfected, as the woman who'd just reduced a fabric supplier to tears cooed over a ruined pastry.
Jiminie snorted. "And here I thought I was the only one who could defrost you."
Taehyungie kissed Taehyun's flour-dusted cheek. "Meeting adjourned."
Not a request. A decree.
--
The twins' laughter echoed through the studio as Marcel, their ever-patient chauffeur, deposited them into Taehyungie's care with a tired but fond smile.
"They ate two macarons already," he warned in heavily accented English. "Beware the sugar."
Taehyungie barely had time to thank him before Taeri was climbing into her lap, demanding to see the new fabric samples, while Taehyun—her quiet, serious boy—immediately zeroed in on the plate of madeleines on her desk.
"Can I?" he asked, already reaching.
Taehyungie nodded, distracted as she flipped through a client's notes. "Just one. And sit while you eat it."
Taehyun obeyed, plopping onto the plush studio couch with all the solemnity of a judge presiding over court. He took a bite—and immediately his face transformed.
His brows furrowed. His nose scrunched. His lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.
Jiminie, passing by with an armful of silk, froze. "Uh. Tae? I still can't get over the face he makes when food is hitting that spot"
Taehyungie glanced up—and her breath caught.
Because that face.
That exact expression.
Jungkook.
She'd seen it a hundred times—when they were kids, across school lunch tables, during study sessions, that first date where he'd tried samgyupsal and nearly ordered a full plate extra.
"It's good," he'd grumbled afterward, still frowning.
And now, five years later, their son was making the same face.
The madeleine was halfway to Taehyun's mouth for another bite.
"Hyunie-ah?," Taehyungie said slowly. "It's good huh?"
He nodded vigorously. "So good."
" Why do you always look like it kicked your dog when you do that?" Jiminie muttered.
Taehyun just took another bite, scowling like the pastry had personally offended him.
Taehyungie's chest tightened.
Like father, like son.
The name sat heavy and sour on her tongue.
Jiminie's gaze flicked to Taehyungie, sharp and knowing. But she didn't say it. Didn't voice what they both saw.
Instead, she plucked a madeleine off the plate and took an exaggerated bite, her own face twisting into a comical grimace.
"Ugh. Disgusting," she declared, deadpan. "The worst. I hate it."
Taehyun giggled, kicking his feet. "Noooo, Auntie Minie! It's good!"
Taeri, ever the opportunist, stole the rest of his snack and bolted.
The moment passed in chaos—Taehyun shrieking, Jiminie fake-outraged on his behalf.
But Taehyungie? She giggled. She wont trade this for anything.
[Evening]
The elevator doors slid open to the sound of twin giggles echoing down the hall.
"Race you!" Taeri shrieked, darting ahead, her tiny shoes squeaking on the polished floors. Taehyun—ever the rule-follower—paused to actually remove his shoes before chasing after her, his serious little face set in determination.
Jiminie rolled her eyes, nudging Taehyungie. "One of them definitely got your chaos genes. The other? No idea where that stickler attitude came from."
Taehyungie's lips twitched. "Must've been the mailman."
Jiminie snorts before heading to her room with a quick "Gonna call Yoongs real quick"
[Master Bathroom – 7:30 PM]
Bubbles piled high in the oversized tub, lavender-scented steam fogging the mirrors as Taehyungie knelt on the plush mat, sleeves rolled up.
"Auntie Jinnie's choco-pies," Taeri sighed dreamily, flopping backward into the water with a splash. "I need them."
Taehyun nodded solemnly, carefully stacking bubble towers on the water's surface. "Uncle Namjoon said he'd teach me guitar next time."
Taehyungie's heart squeezed. "Maybe this summer, when they visit."
"Summer is forever away!" Taeri wailed, kicking her feet. "Can't they come now?"
"Yeah!" Taehyun added, uncharacteristically emphatic. "Auntie Jinnie promised to make us hotteok! With extra syrup!"
Taehyungie flicked water at them. "You two are bribable monsters."
Taeri gasped, clutching her chest. "We're angels."
"Angels who want bribes," Taehyungie corrected, scooping shampoo onto Taeri's wild curls. Through the cracked door, Jiminie's voice drifted from her room—"Yoongi-ah, I know. I love you lots"
Taehyungie's hands stilled for half a second before resuming.
Taeri, ever observant, tilted her head. "Mommy? Why's your face doing the sad thing?" "It's not," Taehyungie lied, booping her nose. "Now rinse before you turn into a bubble monster."
Later, with the twins tucked in and Jiminie finally off the phone, Taehyungie stood on the balcony, Paris glittering below her.
Her phone buzzed—a text from Jinnie:
"Made galbi-jjim today. Taeri's favorite. We miss you."
She swallowed hard. Somewhere out there, he was living his life.
Somewhere out there--
"Mommy?" A sleepy voice. Taehyun stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. "Can I have water?"
Taehyungie exhaled, tucking her phone away. "Of course, mon coeur."
--
[Seoul – Jeon Enterprises Headquarters – 8:32 AM]
Click.
Click.
Click.
The sound of expensive leather shoes echoed through the marble corridors of the 43rd floor. Assistants froze mid-step. Interns practically vanished behind cubicles. Conversations halted. Only the tension remained — tight and electric in the air.
Jeon Jungkook was here.
He didn't look at anyone as he passed, phone in hand, eyes focused, face carved from stone. His tailored black suit fit like armor, his hair slicked back perfectly, not a strand out of place.
The man exuded power. Command. Intimidation. He was no longer the reckless teenager who played truth or dare in high school.
He was ruthless now. And every soul in that building knew it.
[His Office – Top Floor]
The doors closed with a whisper behind him as Jungkook entered his sanctuary. His office was sleek, minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling glass walls and a view of the entire city. Power radiated from every corner — black furniture, silver edges, chrome finishes.
A man already waited inside: Jung Hoseok, CFO, best friend, and one of the two people Jungkook still allowed into his world.
"Morning," Hoseok said, placing a folder on the table.
"Report," Jungkook said shortly, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the chair.
"No slip-ups. France division closed another deal this morning. We're leading over JLX now by 6.3%," Hoseok said, watching him.
Jungkook nodded without much reaction. "Good. Move funds from the US branch. Triple the Paris R&D budget."
"Got it."
Silence fell for a moment.
Jungkook moved to his desk and sat down — precise, controlled, sharp. His fingers flipped through the report without pause... until something shifted in his gaze.
For a fleeting second, his fingers hovered... not over the business reports, but over two items carefully tucked near the edge of his monitor, hidden from the view of anyone else in the room.
A black-and-white ultrasound photo, now faded at the corners.
And a small picture of her.
Taehyungie.
Smiling in a scarf. Wind blowing through her hair. That same dreamy look in her eyes he once knew like his own breath.
Hoseok noticed the shift in his eyes but said nothing. He'd seen this before.
Jungkook quickly dropped his gaze and turned the page.
Business.
Focus.
Distraction.
But his voice was slightly rougher now when he asked, "Anything else?"
"No," Hoseok said carefully. "But, Jungkook..."
The CEO looked up.
"You ever gonna talk to her?"
Jungkook's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with a pain so quick it barely existed.
"She doesn't want to be found," he said flatly.
"Maybe," Hoseok replied. "Or maybe she's waiting for you to try."
Jungkook didn't respond.
But later — when he was alone, when the city lights bled across his glass walls and silence became unbearable — he reached for the photo again.
He pressed his thumb gently against the image of that ultrasound.
And whispered, like a prayer never heard:
"Taehyungie...
--
Paris – Taehyungie's Apartment – 9:00 PM
The twins were finally asleep, curled up like little kittens in their shared bed. Moonlight filtered through gauzy curtains, casting soft shadows across the living room where Taehyungie sat cross-legged on the couch, phone in hand, her voice gentle but playful.
"Oppa, you're spoiling them with too many video calls," she teased.
Namjoon's chuckle came through the phone clearly. "They're my niece and nephew. It's my right to be obsessed."
"You say that now, but they're planning to raid your fridge when they visit your home back here"
"They're welcome to it," Namjoon replied warmly. "Though Jinnie might protest if they finish her matcha cake."
Taehyungie laughed, a sound that softened the walls of the apartment. "They've been begging to meet you both in person. Taeri wants Jinnie to teach her how to bake, and Taehyun wants to show you his dinosaur drawings."
"I'll clear my entire schedule for them," Namjoon promised, voice thick with affection. "They're part of my family too."
There was a pause — a long, comfortable silence between two people who had held onto each other through storms.
Namjoon spoke again, quietly this time. "And you, Tae? How are you doing?"
Taehyungie looked out the window for a moment, watching the Paris skyline stretch beneath the stars. "I'm... good," she replied softly. "I have my babies. My work. Jiminie's here. Yoongi oppa visits sometimes. And I have you guys. That's enough."
"You deserve more," Namjoon said, firm but not forceful. "Love. Joy. Peace. Not just survival."
She blinked rapidly. "I'm getting there, Oppa."
And she meant it.
Even if the scar never fully healed... she had learned to breathe through it.
[10:00 PM]
Just as she ended the call with Namjoon, another name popped up on her screen.
Claire 💛
Taehyungie's entire expression changed — like someone had opened a window and let sunlight pour in. A name that shook runways. The reigning queen of Parisian avant-garde. Her influence touched every thread that mattered in European fashion.
But to Taehyungie... she was so much more.
She was the woman who had picked her out from a sea of wide-eyed hopefuls, made her an assistant, and slowly, through time and tenderness, sculpted her into an icon.
She was mentor, guide, protector.
Sometimes, she was simply Mom.
"Claire!" Taehyungie answered warmly, her tone instantly softening.
"Ma fille brillante," Claire's melodic voice rang. "Still burning down the industry, I hope?"
"Trying my best," Taehyungie said with a small laugh. "Your legacy is hard to follow."
"I never wanted you to follow," Claire said. "I wanted you to build something only you could."
Taehyungie blinked quickly, heart swelling. "Thank you."
Claire's voice gentled. "Now tell me — how are the little stars?"
"Sleeping, finally," Taehyungie smiled. "They miss you. Taeri drew you with angel wings again."
"Oh! Then it must be framed!" Claire laughed. "Tell her I'll hang it in my kitchen."
They chatted for a few minutes about the twins, about work, and about life.
Never once asking, "Where is their father?"-- she never did.
Never once judging.
Just holding space and helping Taehyungie grow.
"I was thinking of making gimbap tomorrow," Claire said softly. "Come by? I'll prepare Taehyun's favorite, with extra pickled radish."
Taehyungie's eyes stung for reasons she couldn't explain.
"We'll be there," she whispered.
"Good. I've missed you, ma chérie. Say hello to Min min for me. Tell her I'll always be proud of you both."
As the call ended, Taehyungie looked around her quiet penthouse. Pictures of the twins, school projects, when she was pregnant, Jiminie feeding the kids with a smile, business awards--by both Jiminie and her, A home built from resilience.
She wasn't lonely. But sometimes she felt alone.
--
[Seoul – Jeon Mansion – 6:42 AM]
The sprawling Jeon estate was quiet in the early morning haze. The floors gleamed, the curtains swayed gently with the breeze, and a scent of chamomile and citrus lingered in the air.
Jungkook moved silently through the hallway, his black suit crisp, hair perfectly styled. His expression was blank — polished, emotionless — but his eyes flickered once when he passed the hallway photo of his younger self. Smiling. Carefree. With a sparkle that had long since dulled.
Before heading toward the east wing, where his father's office awaited, he made a quiet detour.
The sunroom.
His mother sat by the window, a soft shawl over her shoulders, reading the morning paper with a cup of tea beside her. Even now, she looked like a painting — graceful, composed, kind.
"Jungkook," she said gently, eyes lifting with a smile. "Off to war already?"
He offered the smallest tug of his lips. "Father called."
She nodded knowingly and patted the seat beside her. Jungkook obeyed, if only for a minute.
She didn't ask much. She never did. But she watched — and she had noticed.
His late nights. The way he barely smiled anymore. The far-off look in his eyes whenever something reminded him of another time, another person.
"I made your favorite," she said. "Mulberry tea with honey."
He reached for the cup without looking at her, but his fingers brushed hers, and she caught it — that flicker of hesitation.
"Do you ever wish things had been... different?" he asked softly, eyes fixed outside.
His mother exhaled slowly. "I think everyone has one moment they'd rewrite if they could."
She didn't press further.
Didn't ask for names or explanations.
She just knew.
Jungkook stood. "I'll be late. He hates that."
She nodded, her smile a little sad. "He also hates you saying no."
[Jeon CEO Office – Private Study – 7:08 AM]
His father, Chairman Jeon, sat behind his dark mahogany desk, eyes skimming reports with military precision. A man of legacy, power, and expectation — not warmth.
"You're late," he grunted.
"I stopped by to see Mother."
The chairman raised a brow but said nothing more, instead gesturing for Jungkook to sit.
They discussed quarterly margins, expansion projects, and contract deadlines. Jungkook recited every figure with flawless accuracy.
But then the air shifted.
His father leaned back, folding his hands. "And what of your expansion, Jungkook?"
He frowned slightly. "Excuse me?"
"You're the youngest CEO in our company's history. Wealthy. Influential. Well-connected. You've proven yourself in business." A pause. "But what of family?"
Jungkook's fingers curled slightly against the armrest. "If this is about dating—"
"It's about marriage," his father interrupted. "Legacy. Continuity."
"I'm not ready."
"You're never ready," the chairman snapped, eyes narrowing. "You reject every woman I introduce you to. I've brought you to events, galas, private dinners. The Park girls, the Chois, the daughters of the Min group — all from good families."
"I'm not interested in arranged courtships."
"Then find someone. Or I'll do it for you."
Jungkook stood abruptly. "With all due respect, Father — I'll handle my own life."
The chairman's voice cut cold. "You lost that freedom the day you inherited my name."
[Back in the Car – 7:38 AM]
Jungkook sat in the backseat of his luxury black Maybach, fists clenched, jaw tight. Outside, Seoul buzzed like clockwork — but inside, his thoughts screamed.
He didn't want just anyone.
He couldn't love anyone else.
But he couldn't have her either.
He stared down at his phone. The ultrasound picture. Hidden behind a locked folder. The only proof of the moment that shattered him.
Then he slid it away. Buried it.
Just like he buried everything else.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 12: Echoes of us
Chapter Text
The black limousine rolled up the curved driveway of Claire Laurent's timeless estate —a Parisian mansion wrapped in blooming ivy and whispers of old-world elegance. The soft hum of luxury and love lived within those walls.
Before the chauffeur could fully park, the back door flew open.
"GODMOTHER CLAIRE!!"
The twins — Taehyun and Taeri — launched themselves from the car, legs kicking excitedly, laughter bouncing like music through the garden path.
Claire stood at the doorway already, having heard the joyful noise before they'd even reached the gate. Her hands were flour-dusted, her apron slightly askew, but her arms stretched wide with delight.
"My precious dragons," she smiled, her accent velvet and unmistakably French. "You've grown again!"
"Not me!" Taeri declared, hugging her legs. "Only a little taller!"
"I'm huge now!" Taehyun said proudly. "I beat everyone at footraces!"
Claire crouched down, her face kissed by the sunlight as she drew both children into her arms. "Have you come hungry?"
"YES!" they chorused.
"Good," she beamed. "I made gimbap. All your favorites — egg, pickled radish, and even tuna for Taeri."
"Yayyy!" the twins yelled, Claire laughed, rich and joyful, crouching to their level "Yeahhh. But only if i get two kisses first"
Two kisses were planted eagerly on both her cheeks, and then the twins ran ahead into the mansion, exploring like they hadn't been here dozens of times before.
From behind them, Taehyungie stepped out of the limo, her heels clicking against the stone, soft curls pinned into a loose bun. She looked elegant, serene — the kind of woman people turned to admire, but very few dared approach.
Jiminie followed beside her, already taking a selfie with the estate behind her. "Back to the castle," she whispered dramatically.
Taehyungie just smiled.
Claire met them halfway. "Mon amour," she said warmly, pulling Taehyung into a firm embrace. "You look more powerful every time I see you. What's your secret?"
"Sleep deprivation and two kids who ask 'why' a hundred times a day," Taehyungie laughed.
Claire moved to Jiminie next, hugging her affectionately. "And my lovely troublemaker. Still breaking hearts?"
"Only Yoongi's," Jiminie winked.
Inside, the estate was just as the twins remembered — a dreamy mix of velvet furniture, old oil paintings, scattered books, and warm wood floors. Cozy and grand all at once.
The table was already set — delicate china, gold-trimmed glasses filled with barley tea, little folded napkins with each of their names written in perfect calligraphy.
The twins bounced in their seats, holding chopsticks like swords.
"Is there kimchi too?"
"Yes, and cucumber salad," Claire answered, lifting a tray. "Now—eat!"
Laughter filled the air as they dug in. Taeri dipped her gimbap into soy sauce with exaggerated care. Taehyun proudly announced that he could eat seven rolls in one sitting.
Claire sat beside Taehyungie, pouring her a cup of tea.
"I added extra sesame oil. Just the way you liked it when you were pregnant," she said quietly, eyes crinkling.
Taehyungie smiled, warm and unguarded. "You always remember."
Jiminie leaned back, watching the children chatter away.
The afternoon melted into giggles and crumbs. Taehyun climbed into Jiminie's lap to tell her about his "rocket school." Taeri braided Claire's silk scarf. Taehyungie leaned her head on her palm and watched it all — her family, her home, her peace.
At one point, Claire reached over and gently brushed a crumb from Taehyungie's cheek.
"You've built a beautiful life, darling," she whispered. "And those children... they shine because of you."
Taehyungie's throat tightened, but she smiled.
"It was because you lit the path first."
--
[Seoul – Jeon Enterprises, Executive Floor – 3:17 PM]
The office was quiet, save for the faint hum of air conditioning and the rhythmic click of Jungkook's pen against his desk. The view outside was a blur of steel and glass — Seoul buzzing below while Jungkook remained locked in his fortress of shadows and silence.
He sat, eyes unfocused, as if the skyline might provide answers he hadn't asked for. Inside his drawer, hidden away, the ultrasound image and that one photograph of Taehyung remained untouched—but never unnoticed.
A knock on the glass.
"Come in," he called, voice low.
Yoongi stepped in, hands buried in his coat pockets, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Still allergic to natural lighting, I see."
Jungkook looked up, half-smirking. "Still allergic to work?"
"Touché."
Yoongi dropped into the seat opposite him, glancing around the minimalistic office. "You look like hell, by the way."
"I live here," Jungkook replied dryly. "Hell would be a vacation."
Before Yoongi could fire back, the door swung open a second time.
Hoseok entered with his usual bright energy, a folder in one hand, and that CFO air that meant business. He paused briefly to hug Yoongi. "Yoongi-hyung! Look who's alive."
"Hobi," Yoongi grinned. "Still saving this company?"
"One crisis at a time," Hoseok winked, before turning serious. He walked up to Jungkook's desk and laid the folder down. "Speaking of which... we have a new one."
Jungkook arched a brow. "Go on."
"Our Paris division has locked in a major advertising campaign with a luxury fashion brand. Their head of marketing insists on a face-to-face meeting with the designer before we finalize anything. They're offering full creative control to this designer, which means—"
"—We fly there," Jungkook finished flatly.
"Exactly. You, me, and our team. Presentation, logistics, final negotiation. We leave in five days."
"No," Jungkook said immediately. "Delegate it."
"You can't," Hoseok replied calmly. "Your father's already informed. He gave his approval and said your presence was non-negotiable. He really wants this partnership."
Yoongi's eyes drifted toward the file. "Who's the designer?"
Hoseok flipped through a few pages. "They haven't given us a name yet. Apparently, she's very private. The Paris team just called her 'Mademoiselle K' in their brief. But she's a big deal. Known for exclusivity and no nonsense attitude"
Yoongi's eyebrows twitched—but he said nothing.
Jungkook's fingers curled slightly.
Paris. A private designer. No name.
His chest tightened inexplicably.
"...Fine," he said at last. "Schedule it. I'll go. Alone"
Silence.
"Why? You cant do this alone Jk" Hoseok frowns. "I just need to be alone for a while. No team. I'll manage"
Hoseok smiled, understanding. "Good. I'll arrange the jet."
As Hoseok stepped out, Yoongi stayed seated. He studied Jungkook's profile quietly.
"You sure about this?" Yoongi asked softly.
"No," Jungkook muttered. "But I don't really have a choice, do I?"
Yoongi didn't reply. He just sat there—suddenly very aware that whatever waited in Paris... might not be business as usual.
--
The early sun poured through the windows of the sleek penthouse apartment as the twins, Taehyun and Taeri, bundled into their uniforms. Giggles echoed through the hallway as they rushed around, excited for another day at school. Their mother, Taehyungie, stood by the door with her arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips despite her strict tone.
"No sweets in your lunchbox," she warned, raising an eyebrow.
"Uncle Namjoon says dessert is part of a balanced life!" Taeri protested with a cheeky grin.
"Uncle Namjoon's not your dietician," Taehyungie said, biting back a laugh. She bent to kiss their foreheads. "Go on, Jiminie's waiting downstairs."
Once the twins were safely in the limousine, Taehyungie and Jiminie exchanged a look, each adjusting their sunglasses.
"Let's head to Maison Duval, boss lady," Jiminie smirked, looping her arm through Taehyungie's as they exited the building.
[Maison Duval Atelier – Paris]
The atelier was a masterpiece of minimalist elegance, with soft lighting and swatches of fine silk hanging from bronze racks. Employees moved like clockwork through the halls, and in the heart of it all—Taehyungie reigned. Calm. Commanding. A force in heels and fitted blazers.
As they entered, Jiminie made her way to her office on the second floor while Taehyungie greeted some of the senior stylists
As they entered, Jiminie made her way to her office on the second floor while Taehyungie greeted some of the senior stylists. Moments later, a distressed gasp echoed from down the hall.
"Shit, shit, shit," Jiminie whispered, rifling through the folders on her desk. She held up one file, stamped with the gold insignia of a company.
Her heart dropped.
"I forgot to tell her about the corporate pitch presentation..." she muttered in horror, already running down the hall.
She found Taehyungie in the main design studio, poring over fabric layouts.
"Taetae—wait, don't scream," Jiminie blurted. "I forgot to show you something important."
Taehyungie looked up, eyes narrowing. "You forgot what?"
Jiminie handed over the file with a guilty look.
"They're sending their CEO and creative team to evaluate our brand before signing off on the full campaign. They'll be in Paris by the end of the week."
Taehyungie stared at the logo on the front. " You're just telling me now?"
"I'm so sorry—there was the kids' enrollment, the Claire gala, and—"
Taehyungie's brows furrowed. "Minie, this is not something small. We need time to prepare!"
"I know, I know. I messed up." Jimin grabbed her arm gently. "But we've handled worse. We'll be fine. Claire already approved your designs. All we need is charm."
Taehyungie sighed, pressing the folder to her chest. "Fine. Let's prep for war."
Back in Seoul – Namjoon & Jinnie's Apartment
Yoongi sat at the breakfast bar, sipping black coffee as Namjoon plated pancakes while Jinnie, in a silk robe, scrolled through design blogs.
"She's doing great," Jinnie said, smiling. "Claire's collection previewed last month. Taehyungie's name is all over the French press."
Yoongi leaned back. "She might get a surprise."
Namjoon turned. "Why?"
"I just left Jungkook's office. He's flying to Paris by week's end. Business campaign."
Jinnie dropped her phone.
Namjoon's brows rose. "What campaign?"
"He doesn't know it yet," Yoongi said carefully,
Silence.
Then Namjoon waved it off. "No way. There are dozens of designers in Paris the chances—"
"Are slim," Jinnie agreed, though her face was pinched with worry. "Maybe it's not her."
"Even if it is," Namjoon added, "he'll never find her. Their paths don't cross anymore."
Yoongi didn't answer.
But something in his gut told him fate was no longer asking for permission.
--
Paris — Maison Duval Atelier
Taehyungie's Private Office
The room was quiet. A soft classical melody hummed from the record player tucked by the window, but Taehyungie wasn't listening. She sat behind her mahogany desk, fingers absentmindedly flipping through the company's file, eyes glazed over as her mind drifted far from the Parisian skyline outside her window.
A breeze rustled her soft curtains, and with it came a memory.
One she kept tucked away behind perfectly-lined lipstick and power heels.
Three Years Ago
Taehyungie's Apartment – Paris
The late afternoon sun warmed the living room, golden rays dancing across the carpet where Taehyun and Taeri, then chubby-cheeked and tiny, were building a mountain out of blocks.
"Mommy?" Taeri suddenly called, her pigtails bobbing. "Why Riri don' haf a appa?"
Taehyungie, seated on the floor with a laundry basket in her lap, froze.
Taehyun looked up with big eyes, thumb in his mouth. "why we no got a daddy like Mika has?"
Her heart squeezed. She smiled, soft and strained, folding a small sock. "Well... because you have me."
"I know," Taeri pouted, crawling into her mother's lap, "but I wan' a appa too."
Taehyungie lifted her daughter gently and sat her down. "You know what? I'm both! Mommy and daddy. That makes me super special."
Taehyun blinked. "You two peoples?"
"Yes!" she giggled, pointing at herself. "I cook your meals, I tuck you in, I kiss your boo-boos, and I scold you when you hide crayons in the fridge."
Taeri giggled. "But you no do daddy voice."
"What does a daddy voice sound like?" Taehyungie asked with a dramatic tone.
"Deep like— 'Nooo hyunie, no cookie!'" Taehyun said in a growl, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness.
They all laughed. But then... Taeri's little face fell. "...So our appa don't like us?" she whispered.
Taehyungie's heart shattered. "No, baby. No. Your daddy loves you. So, so much."
"Then... why he no here?" Taehyun asked, scooting closer, eyes watery. Taehyungie gathered both of them into her arms, voice trembling slightly. "He... had to travel far, far away. He's working really hard. But one day, he'll come back."
Both children sniffled, leaning into her warmth. "You pwomise?" Taeri asked, voice muffled into Taehyungie's blouse.
She closed her eyes. Lied gently. "I promise."
The twins nodded, pacified by the only truth they could understand: their mother loved them, and in their world, that was enough.
Present – Taehyungie's Office
Taehyungie blinked back to reality, eyes stinging slightly as she stared at her reflection in the window.
"Will he really come back?" she whispered to herself.
The knock at her door startled her.
"Come in," she called, quickly straightening.
Jiminie poked her head in, holding two cappuccinos. "Peace offering?"
Taehyungie smiled faintly. "Thanks. I needed it." Jiminie set the cup down, glanced at the file on her desk. "We'll handle this. Whoever this CEO is, they won't know what hit them."
Taehyungie let out a breath and nodded.
--
Three days later...
[Paris – Charles de Gaulle Airport]
The luxury Porsche purred down the cobbled streets of Paris as the soft pinks and golds of an early evening sunset painted the city. Jungkook sat in the backseat, one leg crossed over the other, blazer sharp and expression unreadable. He stared out the tinted window, the Eiffel Tower a ghost in the distance.
He didn't know why—but the moment he stepped foot on Parisian soil, something in his chest loosened.
Peace.
It was foreign to him now. He hadn't felt it in years. But here, something tugged quietly inside. A sense of familiarity. As if the city whispered in a voice he had long forgotten.
"Welcome to Paris, sir," the chauffeur said, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
Jungkook gave a curt nod, eyes still scanning the winding streets. "Take me to the hotel."
The driver responded with a quick 'Oui, Monsieur Jeon' and merged into the next lane.
Elsewhere – Parisian Private School
Laughter rang like bells as Taehyun and Taeri ran out of their school gate, backpacks bouncing behind them.
"Appa's voice sounds like a lion!" Taehyun said with a loud growl, making his sister shriek and laugh.
"Nooo, like a frog!" Taeri countered, ribbiting exaggeratedly.
Their chauffeur, dressed in a neat gray uniform, opened the back door of the sleek black car. "In you go, little bosses," he teased fondly.
The twins climbed in, still giggling and poking each other.
"I want gimbap for dinner!" Taeri declared as the driver gently shut the door behind them.
Just then...
A Porsche glided silently down the opposite side of the road, slowing at the intersection just meters away.
Inside, Jungkook's eyes lifted, catching the blurred motion of a child's bright backpack disappearing into a luxury car.
Something stirred.
A strange flutter in his chest.
He didn't see faces. Only silhouettes. Little heads. A soft giggle—faint but... familiar.
His head turned sharply toward the vehicle just as the chauffeur shut the door, blocking his view.
It was nothing.
But his heartbeat disagreed.
He furrowed his brows. "Did you hear something?"
The driver raised an eyebrow. "Only the city, sir."
Jungkook leaned back against the leather seat, gaze still out the window, shoulders tense.
"Strange," he muttered under his breath.
Paris wasn't done whispering to him.
[Paris – Montaigne Street]
The black luxury car pulled into a quiet lane where a pastel-colored ice cream parlor stood, glowing under the soft lights of early evening.
From the backseat, the excited voices of two children chirped:
"Pleaseee! Just one scoop!" Taehyun begged dramatically, clasping his hands like a cartoon prince.
Taeri nodded aggressively. "We're growing. We need sugar, Tonton Marcel!"
The chauffeur laughed, rolling his eyes with fond defeat. "Fine. But only one scoop each."
Cheers exploded in the backseat as the twins hopped out of the car.
At the same moment...
Just down the same sidewalk, Jungkook's Porsche eased to a smooth stop near his five-star suite hotel. He stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. Paris was beautiful—but this particular area, with its old-world charm and soft music drifting through the street, felt different.
"Sir, I'll carry your bag," the valet offered.
Jungkook waved him off. "I'll walk."
He wasn't sure why.
He just... wanted to.
Inside the Ice Cream Shop
Taehyun stood on tiptoes, pointing excitedly. "That one! Mint choco-chip!"
Taeri grinned, tugging her brother's sleeve. "You always pick mint! Get strawberry so we can share!"
Taehyun wrinkled his nose. "Sharing is for babies."
Taeri gasped dramatically. "Am not!"
They continued their sibling argument all the way out the door, cups of creamy ice cream in hand, completely unaware of their surroundings—until—
Bump!
"Ah—!" Taehyun stumbled slightly, his ice cream wobbling, but a strong hand caught his wrist just in time.
"Careful there," a deep, calm voice said.
The twins blinked up.
Tall, poised, dressed in an all-black designer ensemble with silver cufflinks, his dark eyes softened as they landed on the two kids looking up at him like he was a walking movie character.
"Whoa..." Taeri whispered.
Then she turned to her brother and whispered "He looks just like you, Hyunie..."
Taehyun tilted his head. "He does?"
Jungkook looked between the two—same dark hair, same almond-shaped eyes. Something strange stirred in him.
They were stunning. Unmistakably beautiful.
And for some reason... He wanted to protect them.
"What are your names?" he asked gently, crouching to their level.
"I'm Taehyun! And this is my sister Taeri."
"Nice to meet you both," Jungkook smiled. "Are you here with your parents?"
"Nope!" Taeri chirped. "Just our chauffeur."
Jungkook frowned slightly. If they were his children, he wouldn't send anyone else. No meetings would be more important. He would show up, every day.
The soft chime of a phone pulled their attention.
Across the road, the chauffeur, Marcel, was waving. "Let's go, little ones!"
"That's us!" Taehyun grinned. "Bye, mister handsome man!"
Taeri blew a playful kiss and giggled.
Jungkook, startled by their energy, chuckled for the first time in what felt like years. "Bye... Taehyun. Taeri."
They ran off.
And he stood there long after the car drove away, heart beating with something unfamiliar.
Something lost.
Later that evening, Jungkook entered his Paris suite.
Everything was pristine—crystal glasses on the bar, crisp sheets, a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance.
But he didn't move toward any of it.
Instead, he walked over to his desk, tossing his blazer aside and sitting down heavily in the chair.
His fingers slid open a bag.
Inside—
A folded ultrasound photo.
And a candid picture of Taehyungie, taken from years ago. She was laughing, holding a sunflower, her smile brighter than any skyline.
His eyes closed.
So much time had passed.
But he never stopped carrying her with him.
Just then, a knock on the door.
"Sir," A voice called, "I spoke with the atelier. The designer will meet us tomorrow for the first ad brief."
"Name?" Jungkook asked without much thought.
"They didn't say. Just said the director would be present."
He opened his eyes slowly.
"...Fine."
But his mind wasn't on business anymore.
It was on two children with bright eyes... and the girl who had taken his heart with her the day she left.
Paris – Evening, Taehyungie's penthouse.
The smell of grilled bulgogi and freshly steamed rice filled the warm, elegant apartment. The twins, Taehyun and Taeri, were settled around the dinner table, little feet swinging off their chairs, bowls piled high in front of them. Jiminie poured them juice while Taehyungie laid down the last dish — japchae with sesame garnish.
The penthouse was alive with soft music, clinking plates, and the chatter of tired but happy children.
"Mmm, mommy! Dis is sooo good!" Taehyun moaned dramatically, stuffing his mouth.
"I'm the best cook, huh?" Taehyungie teased, sitting across from them with her chopsticks.
"You're the queen of yumminess!" Taeri said, earning a giggle from Jiminie.
As they ate, the twins began to chatter about their day, as usual — Taehyun talking about a drawing he made, Taeri about the class pet hamster named Peachy.
But then—
Taehyun paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Oh! And we met someone funny today!"
Jiminie glanced over, curious. "Who did you meet?"
"A bunny man!" Taeri chimed in, her eyes sparkling.
Taehyungie blinked. "A... what?"
"He looked like Hyunie," Taeri said matter-of-factly. "But taller. And handsome. And he had bunny teeth! Like this—" She pulled her cheeks apart and showed her two front teeth with a wide grin.
Taehyun nodded solemnly. "Yeah. His eyes were really big and he smiled but... like... sad."
"He was nice," Taeri added, "he asked for our names."
Taehyungie's hand froze around her chopsticks.
Jiminie looked up sharply, meeting Taehyungie's eyes across the table.
There was a long, weighted silence between them.
Jiminie slowly set down her cup. "...Tae."
Taehyungie didn't move. Her mind spun, her heart thudding in her chest.
No.
It couldn't be.
Not here. Not now. Not with them.
Her voice came out soft, strained: "Where did you meet him?"
"Near the ice cream shop!" Taehyun said excitedly. "He caught me when I almost dropped my cone. Like a superhero."
Jiminie leaned closer, brows knitting. "What did he say?"
Taeri shrugged. "He asked for our names and if our parents were with us."
"He thought we were alone," Taehyun giggled. "But tonton Marcel came!"
Taehyungie took a long, slow breath and set her chopsticks down. Her throat was tight. Her chest ached.
She forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sounds like he was just a nice stranger."
"But he looked like us," Taeri whispered, tilting her head. "Maybe he's family?"
Taehyungie stood up abruptly. "No," she said firmly, voice low.
The twins blinked up at her. Jiminie stood as well, worry lacing her expression.
Taehyungie forced a soft tone into her voice and crouched beside her daughter, brushing Taeri's hair gently behind her ear. "Sweetheart... sometimes people just look similar, okay? That doesn't mean they're family."
"But—"
"No," she repeated gently, pressing a kiss to both of their foreheads. "Finish your dinner."
The children obeyed, distracted by their food again. But Jiminie watched as Taehyung moved to the kitchen, her back straight but her eyes wide and wet with unspoken fear.
"Tae..." Jiminie whispered once the kids were distracted.
Taehyungie shook her head, voice low and urgent. "Don't."
"You don't think—?"
"I can't," she snapped softly. "They're my children. He lost the right to be anything to them. They will never know that kind of heartbreak."
Jiminie placed a hand over hers. "And what if it wasn't fate playing games... but bringing things full circle?"
Taehyungie didn't reply.
But her heart was already whispering the one name she had buried years ago.
[Paris – Morning, Taehyungie's Penthouse]
The sun filtered gently through sheer curtains, casting a golden hue across the polished wooden floors of the penthouse. The twins were already dressed in their crisp school uniforms, sitting at the kitchen island, munching on toast and fruit as Jiminie flipped pancakes.
In the master bedroom, Taehyungie stood in front of her full-length mirror, adjusting the soft beige blazer over a cream silk blouse. Her makeup was minimal — just enough to make her look composed, unfazed, and confident. The kind of woman the world took seriously.
The kind of woman the world took seriously
The kind she had trained herself to be.
She adjusted a gold earring, her thoughts distant.
Her eyes trailed to the vanity where a crumpled drawing sat — one Taehyun had made the night before. It was a bunny man holding hands with two small kids. The words "Bunny man say hi" were written in pink crayon under it.
Her heart clenched.
Jiminie's voice echoed from the kitchen: "Kids, get your bags! Your chauffeur's here!"
"Coming!" Taeri squeaked, hopping off her chair.
Taehyungie stepped out just as her children came bounding into the hallway. She knelt, fixing Taehyun's collar and smoothing Taeri's hair, her expression softening. "No more bunny man stories today, alright?" she whispered, kissing their cheeks.
The twins pouted but nodded obediently. "Good."
She watched as they disappeared through the door with Marcel, their ever-reliable chauffeur.
Later That Morning – Madison Duval Atelier
The atelier was abuzz with movement. Designers scurried across the polished halls, swatches of fabric fluttering in their hands. Models arrived early for fittings, and assistants whispered updates on the upcoming presentation.
Inside a spacious, glass-walled office sat Taehyungie, legs crossed behind her sleek black desk, flipping through documents. Her posture was poised, calm — but her fingers betrayed her, tapping absently against the mahogany surface.
Her door burst open.
Jiminie. Clutching a file to her chest. Her eyes wide with guilt.
"Tae... you're going to kill me."
Taehyungie arched a brow. "You forgot something, didn't you?"
Jiminie hesitated. "...The Jeon Enterprises file."
Taehyungie stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor. "What?"
Jiminie hurried over, spreading the contents across the desk. "The designer-client collaboration proposal — we accepted without checking the client identity. The presentation today? It's with the advertising team of Jeon Enterprises."
Taehyungie's hands froze over the paperwork. Her heart went cold. Her lips parted, breath catching. "Jeon?"
Jiminie nodded, face pale. "I didn't think to check it until this morning — I'm so sorry."
Taehyungie stepped back, placing a trembling hand over her chest. "No, no, it can't be."
"I don't think it's him, Tae," Jiminie said quickly. "Jeon Enterprises is massive. It's probably just a rep. Maybe someone junior."
But Taehyungie's stomach twisted. She had worked too hard to build this life. Too long to bury the past.
She couldn't let him tear it down now.
She gathered the file and forced her shoulders back.
"Fine. We're prepared regardless. If it's him, he'll know who he's dealing with."
Jiminie hesitated. "Are you okay?"
"No," Taehyungie said honestly. "But I will be."
--
Inside the sunlit atelier, Taehyungie paced quietly in her office.
The usually confident woman — cold and elegant — now felt the shadows of a storm she never thought she'd face again. She had tried so hard to forget those eyes, that voice, the warmth of a boy who had shattered her heart with one sentence.
'It was just a dare.'
Jiminie sat on the edge of the desk, bouncing her leg nervously. "Do you think it's him?"
"I don't know," Taehyungie muttered, adjusting her sleeves for the third time. "But I don't want to find out."
She paused by the window, staring out at the courtyard. Her jaw clenched.
"He can't be here. It's been five years."
"He might be," Jiminie said softly. "And if he is, we handle it — professionally. You're not the same girl anymore."
Taehyungie gave a weak nod.
But her hands trembled.
[Earlier That Morning – Streets of Paris]
A black Porsche glided through the morning mist, its tinted windows reflecting the sleepy blur of waking Paris.
Inside, Jungkook sat composed, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through his tablet. His sharp jawline was set, but his eyes wandered — restless — from the moment he landed.
Paris had that effect on him.
Peaceful. Tranquil. As if the city whispered a memory he couldn't quite recall.
Suddenly, his driver slowed down. In the distance, a black car was parked oddly by the roadside, hazard lights blinking.
Jungkook frowned. "What's going on?"
The driver responded, "Looks like a stalled car, sir."
"Pull over." They did. Jungkook stepped out, adjusting his coat.
His eyes widened slightly.
It was them.
The twins.
Taehyun and Taeri stood outside the car, huddled beside their chauffeur. When they noticed him, their eyes lit up.
"Bunny man!" Taeri squealed.
Taehyun ran to him with excitement. "It's you again!"
Jungkook crouched, his heart fluttering. "You remember me?"
"You look just like Hyunie," Taeri giggled, hugging her brother's arm.
Jungkook smiled faintly, then turned to the chauffeur. "What happened?"
Marcel, their seasoned and loyal driver, looked wary. "Overheated engine. I've called for backup. But it'll take time."
"I'll take them," Jungkook offered without hesitation.
Marcel tensed. "Monsieur..."
"I'll drive them myself. You can come too. I have a meeting nearby anyway."
The twins bounced excitedly. "Please, please, please!"
Marcel sighed, clearly outnumbered by two pairs of sparkling eyes and one charming stranger. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
"Of course," Jungkook said.
As they settled into the Porsche — Marcel in the front seat, the twins giggling in the back — Jungkook felt something strange.
Warmth.
So this is what it's like, he thought, to want to skip every meeting in the world just to drive your kids to school.
He didn't know anything about them, only their names.
But somehow...
He already wanted to protect them.
30 Minutes Later – Madison Duval Atelier
Back at the atelier, tension hung in the air like pressed silk.
The conference room was ready — swatches neatly pinned, models prepped, presentations polished. But the guest of honor had yet to arrive.
Jiminie glanced nervously at the clock. "He's late."
Taehyungie's arms were crossed, expression unreadable. "Maybe he bailed."
"Or maybe fate is just being petty."
Taehyungie shot her a look.
Jiminie raised her hands. "Okay, okay. No more fate talk." Still, Taehyungie's mind wandered. Her heart beat louder with each passing second. The longer he took to arrive... the more it felt like time itself was playing with her.
The elevator chimed.
Inside Madison Duval Atelier, the conference room was silent — too silent. The design team sat poised, notepad-ready, eyes flickering occasionally toward the door.
Taehyungie stood at the far end of the long marble table, her back straight, face composed like porcelain. Only her fingers — twisting the ring on her pinky — betrayed her nerves.
Beside her, Jiminie clutched a tablet. She was trying to breathe normally, but her eyes kept flicking to the clock.
A man entered first. "Apologies for the delay, Mademoiselle Kim. The representatives from Jeon Enterprises have arrived."
And behind her walked Jungkook.
Time didn't just slow. It fractured.
For a breathless second, it was like no one else was in the room. Jungkook's eyes landed on her — and every single second of the past five years collapsed into this moment.
Taehyungie.
She was here.
She was real.
She was breathtaking.
Her hair was longer, her features sharper, matured with grace and poise. The air shifted around her. She wore confidence like a crown — but her eyes... those eyes...
They still haunted him in dreams. His footsteps faltered slightly.
Jiminie, mouth agape, moved instinctively to stand closer to her best friend, both women holding their breath.
Jungkook blinked. Once. Twice.
This wasn't a hallucination.
It was her.
"Taehyungie..." he whispered under his breath, unable to stop himself.
Taehyungie's face remained frozen. Her heart was a wildfire beneath her ribs, but her expression was cold, composed.
She gave him a slow, deliberate bow. "Welcome to Madison Duval, Mr. Jeon. I hope Paris has been kind to you."
Her voice.
He'd forgotten how much it hurt to hear her speak.
Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, but the man cleared his throat awkwardly behind him. "Shall we sit?"
The room moved. Chairs slid. Laptops opened.
Jungkook sat across from her, and it took every ounce of discipline in him not to reach across the table and grab her hand. Ask her where she had been. Why she never told him. If she still cried at night like he did.
But he said nothing. The meeting began. Numbers were discussed. Brand campaigns. International launches. But three people in that room could not focus.
Jiminie was pale, her hands trembling on her tablet. The man kept stealing glances between Jungkook and Taehyungie. Even the junior designers could feel it — the electricity between the CEO and the creative director, a pull too deep to be business.
Halfway through a pitch, Taehyungie stood. "Excuse me," she said tightly. "I need some air."
Jiminie stood too, worried, but Taehyungie shook her head. "I'm fine."
She walked out, heels echoing like thunder in the silence.
Jungkook waited exactly ten seconds before standing too.
"I'll be back," he said quietly.
No one stopped him.
Jungkook found her on the balcony — a glass-and-steel perch over Paris, where the city hummed peacefully below, in sharp contrast to the storm raging within them.
Taehyungie stood with her arms folded, her silhouette framed by a soft breeze, her hair dancing like a memory he could never let go of.
He stepped forward, slow and hesitant. "Tae..."
She stiffened.
"I didn't know it was you," he said hoarsely. "I swear—"
She turned to face him sharply, her eyes ablaze. "Would it have mattered?"
His mouth parted, but no words came.
"Would it?" she demanded, voice cracking. "If you had known it was me, would you have still walked in here with that stupid smug face pretending nothing ever happened? Would you have still thrown me away like trash after using me for a game?"
"Taehyung, stop—"
"No, you stop!" she snapped. "You don't get to show up after five years and act like you're owed something. You don't get to say my name like it still belongs to you."
"I... I would've come sooner."
Her jaw clenched. "And done what? Told me it was still just a dare?"
His heart cracked.
"No," he whispered. "I would've told you I never stopped loving you."
Taehyungie laughed bitterly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't hurt someone like that and call it love."
"You think I didn't hurt too?" he hissed. "You think I didn't break every day wondering where you were? What you were doing? If you ever thought of me?"
"You never once crossed my mind" she hissed back.
He swallowed, the words made him flinch. His jaw tightened. "I just wanted to talk—"
"Talk?" she laughed humorlessly. "About what, Jeon Jungkook? About how you humiliated me? Lied to me? Slept with me for a dare and left me to pick up the shattered pieces?"
He opened his mouth, but she raised a hand — commanding silence.
"Don't bother denying it. I heard it from your own mouth."
There was a silence. Thick. Painful.
"I was young," he muttered.
"So was I," she said, voice like steel. "But I grew up."
Jungkook stepped closer, desperate. "Tae, please. I made a mistake. I—"
"Mistake?" she snapped. "No. Dropping your phone in water is a mistake. Leaving someone who loved you, degrading her, breaking her trust? That's a choice."
He looked at her like the floor had dropped beneath him.
"You can't even look at me without guilt in your eyes," she whispered. "And yet you still chase me down like it means something."
"It does mean something," he said. "You meant— you mean everything."
"Too late," she said, turning around. "Much too late."
She walked off, the cold air of the hallway swallowing the heat of the storm that had just passed. Her shoulders trembled once she was out of sight — but not from weakness.
From the strength it took to walk away.
Jungkook stood frozen in the hallway, the echo of her words louder than anything else in his world.
He had come to Paris for a campaign.
He didn't know he would walk into karma.
And find the woman he once broke — too far gone to touch again.
--
The slam of her office door echoed like a final goodbye.
Taehyungie leaned against it, her breath trembling, her body frozen, and her heart... completely wrecked. Her fingers trembled slightly as they unfastened the buttons of her coat, but her face was stone. Blank. Cold.
She walked straight to the bathroom, washed her hands, and stared into the mirror. She didn't look like someone who had just confronted the boy who'd destroyed her.
She looked like a woman who had been through hell... and refused to let it consume her again.
Her heart was racing. Her chest ached. But not a single tear fell.
"Not again," she whispered to herself. "Never again."
The moment she had dreaded for five long years had arrived — and it had broken her all over again.
She pressed her hand to her mouth to silence the sob that threatened to escape, but it didn't work. Her knees gave out. She slid down to the floor, chest heaving, a cry bursting from her lips like an open wound.
How dare he?
How dare he look at her with those soft eyes — like he hadn't torn her world apart and left her to stitch it back together alone?
Taehyungie curled in on herself on the cold marble floor. The city lights outside flickered, distant and mocking, and her sobs filled the silence of the bathroom.
She remembered it all.
The pregnancy. The fear.
The weight of telling her tiny babies stories about a father who "traveled far" — a lie she wrapped in lullabies just so they could sleep with smiles.
But now that lie had shattered. And with it, so had the fragile peace she had worked so hard to build.
She didn't even know what hurt more — that he didn't know he had children... or that she lied to her babies.
"I hate him," she whispered, voice cracking. "I hate him so much."
But her tears said otherwise.
Because no matter how much she told herself that, her heart — the one he broke and the one she tried to seal shut — still beat for him.
A soft knock on the door broke through her weeping.
"Taetae...?" came Jiminie's worried voice.
Taehyungie couldn't speak. Her throat was raw, her lips trembling. She wiped her face with her sleeve, forcing herself to breathe.
Jiminie opened the door gently and knelt beside her, wordlessly pulling her into a tight hug.
"I thought I was over him," Taehyungie choked out. "I thought I was done."
Jiminie stroked her hair, eyes filled with silent rage and unbearable sadness. "You don't have to be strong right now."
"But I have to be," Taehyungie cried. "For them. For Taehyun and Taeri. I don't have the luxury of falling apart."
Jiminie kissed her temple. "Then fall apart with me. Just for today."
And so Taehyungie did — sobbing into the arms of the only person who knew just how deeply she had suffered, while the moon bore silent witness to a woman unraveling all the pain she'd tucked beneath her skin for far too long.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 13: Wounds that refuse to close
Chapter Text
The soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the twins' room in golden hues. The lullaby Taehyungie always hummed for them faded slowly into silence as she gently pulled the covers over their tiny bodies. Taehyun was already dozing off, his fingers curled loosely around the edge of his blanket, while Taeri stared up at her mother with big, thoughtful eyes.
"Goodnight, my stars," Taehyungie whispered softly, kissing each of their foreheads. Her voice trembled slightly. "I love you both. More than anything."
The twins mumbled sleepy "Love you, mama" as she stood, lingering for a long moment.
Her eyes scanned their small forms, so peaceful, so innocent — untouched by the pain she carried like shadowed armor. She turned out the light, closed the door softly behind her, and leaned against it in the hallway, eyes closed, breath shaking.
He can never know.
Not about them. Not now. Not ever.
She couldn't risk it. Not after everything. Not when just being near Jungkook felt like standing too close to a flame that had already once burned her alive.
Meanwhile, across the city in his luxurious suite,
Jungkook stood in front of the full-length mirror, eyes locked on his reflection — but not seeing it. His fists were clenched at his sides, teeth grinding as he tried to hold it together.
But his chest felt hollow.
Every memory of her eyes, her scent, her voice — haunted him.
He slammed his fist against the wall.
"What have I done..." he whispered, crumbling.
He sank to the floor, head in his hands, and for the first time after she left in seoul,he let the tears fall freely.
She hates me. I deserve it. But I can't stop. I won't stop.
--
Back at Taehyungie's home, all was still — except for two little voices whispering under the covers.
"Hyunie," Taeri whispered, shifting to face her brother in the dark.
"Mm?"
"Do you think the bunny man we saw is real?"
Taehyun blinked, thoughtful. "I think so. He gived me warm smile. Like sunshine on soup."
"He looked like you," Taeri giggled, poking his cheek.
"You said that already," Taehyun whispered back, but he smiled too. "Do you think mama will like to meet him?"
Taeri shook her head. "i don't know hyunie."
"Maybe he's our angel," Taehyun said sleepily.
The two of them snuggled back into their pillows, small hands clasped in the middle of the bed.
From the hallway, the muffled sound of Taehyung's quiet crying echoed faintly — unheard by the children, but carried by the night.
--
Next morning.
The sharp echo of stiletto heels against marble filled the hallways of Maison Duval Atelier. Heads turned, voices hushed, and employees instinctively pressed tighter against the walls as Taehyungie glided through, her tailored navy dress hugging her form, her long hair cascading like silk behind her.
Behind her, Jiminie trailed with a tablet in hand, struggling slightly to keep up with the hurricane of grace and steel ahead of her
"Queen is storming today," an intern whispered, starry-eyed.
"Every day," someone else murmured.
Before Taehyungie could turn into her office, her secretary stood abruptly, bowing slightly. "Madam, Mr. Jeon arrived early. He's waiting inside—"
Taehyungie stopped on her tracks.
The hallway chilled.
"You let a client into my office without my permission?" Her voice was ice dressed in silk. The secretary flinched. "I-I'm sorry—he said—"
Taehyungie didn't wait to hear more. She swept past her, head held high, fury smoldering beneath a mask of elegance.
Inside the office, Jungkook stood near the window, back straight but hands nervously fidgeting at his sides. He turned as the door opened, his gaze meeting hers like a man gripping at memory.
"Taehy—"
"Mr. Jeon," she cut coldly, not missing a beat. "My apologies for yesterday's disruption. Let's move past it."
Jungkook blinked, the weight of her presence knocking the air out of him. She was... everything. Fierce. Radiant. Beautiful. Pretty. A storm cloaked in velvet. And so painfully far away.
"Jiminie," Taehyungie called calmly, eyes still on Jungkook. "Bring the file."
"Yes, Director," Jiminie responded quickly, pulling it up on her tablet. Taehyungie took her seat with regal precision. "Let's focus on the advertising deal between Maison Duval and Jeon Enterprises. You're here for business. So let's keep it that way."
Jungkook sat across from her, nodding faintly. But his eyes—his traitorous, aching eyes—refused to behave. They scanned her face, her lips, the way her lashes fluttered when she blinked.
She noticed.
Taehyungie's jaw tightened. Then—snap! She raised her hand and snapped her fingers sharply in front of his face.
Jungkook jolted.
"Pay attention, Mr. Jeon," she said coolly, tilting her head, lips pressed in the smallest smirk of disdain. "This isn't a reunion. It's a contract negotiation."
He swallowed hard, heart pounding.
And for the first time since he walked into that office, Jungkook realized this woman — this Taehyungie — wasn't the same girl who once cried in his arms.
She had buried her softness beneath glass and diamonds.
And he wasn't sure if she'd ever let him close enough to feel it again.
The meeting had ended stiffly. Taehyungie hadn't so much as glanced at Jungkook as she closed the contract folder and pushed it toward him. Jiminie had walked him out with nothing but tense silence.
Now, down the hallway near the executive elevators, Jungkook turned to face Jiminie before she could disappear behind her office door.
"Jiminie... wait," he said softly.
She stopped. Turned slowly. Her eyes flared with a heat so sharp, Jungkook briefly forgot how to breathe.
"I know I'm the last person you want to talk to," he said. "But please. Just for a moment—"
Jiminie scoffed, arms folding over her chest. "A moment? That's rich coming from someone who shattered her with a single sentence."
"I didn't—"
"Didn't mean it?" she snapped. "Don't you dare try to excuse yourself now, Jungkook."
The name on her lips—so cold, so bitter—cut deeper than any curse. Jungkook looked down. "I know I messed up. I was young. I was scared. I—"
"Spare me," she said, voice sharp. "You weren't scared. You were cruel. A coward!"
The hallway echoed with silence.
Jiminie stepped closer, her voice low but heavy. "Do you know what it took to put her back together? Do you know how many nights she cried herself to sleep? How she lost everything and still smiled for the world just to survive?"
Jungkook clenched his fists. "I want to make it right."
Jiminie gave a bitter laugh. "You think you can waltz into Paris with tailored suits and pretty words and just make it right?"
"I still love her," Jungkook confessed, almost in a whisper.
Jiminie's eyes welled—but not with sympathy.
With fury.
"Don't you dare speak her name," she said, each word a slap. "Don't you dare say you love her when all you did was teach her how to live without it."
He looked at her, broken. "Jiminie... please. I'm not asking for much. I just... I need to know if she's okay."
Jiminie hesitated.
The truth pressed against her throat like a scream, but she bit it back. "She's alive, just as you can see" she said coldly. "And that's more than you deserve to know."
Then she walked away, heels clicking with finality.
Jungkook stood there, staring after her. Alone again. Drenched in guilt.
And somewhere deep inside him, a fire lit.
He had ruined everything.
But he wasn't done fighting for her.
Two days later...
The Parisian sky was overcast, its soft gray clouds mirroring the heaviness Jungkook felt in his chest.
He sat silently in the backseat of his sleek black Porsche SUV, his eyes scanning the familiar streets he had only just begun to appreciate. Paris had done something to him—it had slowed his steps, tugged at his heart, and reminded him of a life he once lived, with a girl who now refused to even look at him the same way.
His phone buzzed.
Father.
Jungkook sighed and swiped to answer. "Yes, Father."
"Jungkook-ah," his father's commanding voice came through. "The Paris deal has been finalized. You can come back home."
"That fast?" Jungkook murmured, his tone unreadable.
"You did well," his father added, then paused before shifting into a voice laced with expectation. "There's a gala next week. You'll be attending."
Jungkook shut his eyes. "Don't say it."
"You'll need a date," his father finished anyway. "The daughter of the Choi Group's chairman—"
"Father, stop." Jungkook cut in coldly. "I said I'm not ready. Don't force this."
His father was silent for a moment. "You're twenty-three. It's time you started thinking of your future."
Jungkook didn't answer. His jaw clenched tightly.
After the call ended, his fingers trembled slightly. He hadn't felt this suffocated in years—not since her. His thoughts chased the sound of Jiminie's voice—her rage, her grief, her truth.
"To the private academy on Rue Dumas," he finally said to the driver.
"Yes, sir."
The sleek black car glided toward the elite Parisian school—the same one that catered to the children of diplomats, designers, and global elites. His father had often spoken about its headmaster, Monsieur Leclerc, a long-time friend of the Jeon family. Jungkook figured if anyone could help him find answers, it was him.
In the elegant front office, Monsieur Leclerc looked up from his desk and smiled as Jungkook entered.
"Jeon Jungkook. My, my. You look just like your father—only sharper in the eyes," the principal said, standing to shake his hand.
"Thank you, Monsieur Leclerc. I was wondering if... if I could meet two of your students. Twins. Taehyun and Taeri."
The principal's brow rose slightly, but he nodded. "Ah, delightful children. Polite. Bright. Very loved."
Jungkook's heart stuttered.
"Just a short talk," Jungkook added, carefully composed. "I met them by chance, and I wanted to give them a surprise.
The principal smiled warmly. "Of course."
Later that afternoon, he found himself at the private lounge in the Parisian school once again. The moment the twins entered, their faces lit up like stars.
"Bunny man!" Taeri squealed, her eyes sparkling as she skipped in with Taehyun.
Jungkook stood up, lips curling into a surprised but genuine smile. "You remembered me?"
"Of course," Taehyun said seriously, his tiny hands shoved in his coat pockets. "You helped us when our car was broken. And you saved my ice-cream like a superhero!"
Jungkook chuckled. "You two must really love ice cream."
"Mom says it makes us hyper," Taeri giggled.
He crouched down, his eyes level with theirs. "So what are you doing in such a fancy school? Shouldn't you be building blanket forts somewhere?"
Taehyun puffed his chest. "We're five and a half now. We're too old for that."
"Really?" Jungkook teased. "You look like someone who still sleeps with a teddy bear."
Taehyun turned red while Taeri laughed. "He does!"
"I do not!"
Their innocent bickering warmed something deep in Jungkook's chest. There was a strange pull—like his soul recognized theirs, even if his mind didn't understand why.
"You're really funny," Taeri beamed.
"We like you," Taehyun added more quietly.
Jungkook smiled softly. "I like you guys too."
After a small pause,
"I came to say goodbye," he said softly, brushing a hand through Taehyun's hair.
Taeri's smile instantly fell. "What?"
"I have to go back to Seoul," he said, forcing a small smile. "Business stuff."
Taehyun's face twisted in disappointment. "B-but we just got to know you"
"I know," Jungkook said, even though he wasn't ready to leave.
The door opened, and the principal peeked in. "Children, it's time to go."
The twins turned to Jungkook with wide eyes.
"Will you come and visit us again?" Taeri asked, clinging to his sleeve.
"Maybe," he said, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Can you meet our mommy?" Taehyun asked innocently. "She'll like you."
Jungkook blinked, his breath catching. "Your... mommy?"
"Yes!" Taeri grinned. "She's really pretty and she's the boss of everyone!"
Jungkook let out a soft laugh. "I bet she is."
"We'll ask her if we can invite you over when you come back!" Taeri promised.
The twins waved as they left, skipping down the hall beside the prncipal.
Jungkook stood there alone in the lounge for a long moment, heart pounding. There was something hauntingly familiar in their eyes, their smile, their voices...
His eyes stung, heart aching in a way he couldn't quite explain.
He had no idea why those two little souls had gotten under his skin so deeply.
--
The rain outside tapped gently against the windows of the penthouse as the golden light of early evening flooded the living room. The aroma of jasmine tea lingered in the air, blending with the faint scent of vanilla Taehyungie had always loved.
The twins were nestled on the soft carpet, coloring peacefully while Taehyungie stirred a pot in the kitchen. Jiminie sat at the counter scrolling through her tablet.
Soon, dinner was ready and laughter echoed through the space as they ate together.
It was during dessert—gimbap and sliced fruits—that Taehyungie finally asked, casually, "So, how was school today?"
Taeri swung her legs, humming. "It was fun!"
"Yup!" Taehyun added with a mouthful of melon. "And we saw Bunny Man again!"
Taehyungie's hand paused on her teacup.
Jiminie, mid-bite, glanced at her.
"Bunny man?" Taehyungie echoed, keeping her tone light despite the sudden unease climbing up her spine.
"Uh-huh!" Taeri chirped. "He came to school and played with us! But..."
"But what?" Taehyungie asked softly, leaning forward.
Taehyun tilted his head, deep in thought. "He said he had to go away. Somewhere..."
"Yeah," Taeri nodded slowly, her lips pursing. "I forgot where he said he was going. It started with... S?"
"Soda?" Taehyun guessed.
"Soel?" Taeri tried again, eyes wide.
Jiminie subtly looked at Taehyung. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.
Taehyungie gave them a faint smile and reached out to tuck Taeri's hair behind her ear. "Did you say goodbye?"
Both kids nodded.
"He kissed us!" Taehyun grinned, proud.
Taehyungie's smile faltered.
She stood from her chair and turned to the sink, her hands trembling just slightly as she washed the cups that didn't really need washing.
Behind her, Jiminie rose and quietly led the children to brush their teeth.
Taehyungie stared into the soapy water.
No. It can't be him.
He was here alright but they wouldn't have crossed paths.
They didn't know. They couldn't know.
With a long breath, she wiped her hands and stared out the rain-slicked window, her voice whispering only to herself:
"Don't you dare come back and ruin them too."
--
The clouds above Incheon International Airport rolled in heavy and gray, mirroring the weight pressing on Jungkook's chest. As his private jet touched down, the vibrant lights of Seoul greeted him, but the familiar skyline didn't bring comfort. Not this time.
He leaned his head back against the seat as the engines cooled. The silence in the cabin felt deafening after the whirlwind of Paris—the stolen moments, the ghost of Taehyungie's scent, the light in the eyes of the twins', twins he barely knew but had a place in his heart.
He hadn't slept.
Not properly. Not since he saw her again. Not since he kissed them goodbye.
A soft chime broke his thoughts. His phone buzzed.
Father: Dinner party with the chairman's family this Friday. Bring a date this time. No excuses.
Jungkook scoffed under his breath and tapped out a response.
Jungkook: Stop trying to marry me off.
He didn't wait for the reply.
The car was already waiting by the tarmac. Hoseok stood outside, nodding with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He could see the storm Jungkook carried back from Paris.
"Hyung," Jungkook muttered, sliding into the car.
Hoseok got in beside him. "You look like hell." Jungkook chuckled hollowly. "I left it all in Paris."
They drove through Seoul, the city buzzing with its usual electricity. But to Jungkook, it all felt... dull. Distant. Like he was watching a world he no longer belonged to.
He kept replaying it. Taehyungie's eyes. The way they'd hardened into ice. The way she didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't beg.
He'd never felt more like a stranger to her.
His heart twisted.
And yet-- the children. Those two little lights.
Taehyun with that proud smirk. Taeri with her soft voice calling him "Bunny Man."
He clutched his seat.
He didn't even know why they pulled at his heart like that. He didn't know them.
But he felt like he did.
And when they said they wanted him to meet their mother, he didn't know but he wanted to say yes. Maybe they'll become good friends.
Now he was thousands of feet away, in a city that had everything but Taehyungie.
--
The email came in with a sharp ding.
Taehyungie barely glanced at her laptop before her secretary gasped.
"Madam... it's from Jeon Enterprises. They're requesting a business presentation in Seoul."
The room stilled.
Taehyungie stood, lips slightly parted. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Jeon Enterprises?
"Are they insane?" Jiminie barked from across the office, already charging over to read the email for herself. "A sudden presentation? In Seoul? They didn't even ask—they demanded."
Taehyungie's spine straightened, cold fear settling into her chest.
She hadn't stepped foot in Seoul for five years. Not since she'd boarded that plane with a broken heart and two lives growing inside her.
--
That night, in the comfort of her penthouse, she stared out of the window, watching the Paris skyline blur.
Namjoon's voice rang over the phone. "Come home, Tae. You don't have to face anything alone."
"I'm scared," she whispered. "What if he finds out?"
Namjoon was quiet for a moment. Then firmly, "You'll be staying with us. The kids will be safe. Jinnie is already preparing the rooms."
Tears welled in her eyes.
Two days later...
The day before their flight, Claire met them at the gates of her mansion.
She looked ethereal in soft lavender, arms wide open as Taeri and Taehyun ran into them squealing, "Godmother Claire!"
Jiminie smiled through misty eyes, watching Taehyungie silently walk up and hug the older woman like a daughter about to leave her mother for the first time.
"You raised me more than anyone," Taehyungie whispered.
Claire kissed her forehead. "You are my masterpiece, darling. Don't be afraid to return home. Sometimes... healing waits in places we abandoned."
--
Seoul, Incheon International Airport
The airport air was different. More humid. Familiar.
Taehyungie stepped off the jet bridge and took a breath, nostalgia crashing down on her like waves.
The scent of spicy tteokbokki. The echo of announcements in Hangul. The skyline in the distance. She had once called this place home.
Behind her, the twins clung to her hands, sleepy but excited.
"Is Uncle Joonie here yet?" Taehyun yawned.
Suddenly, a loud voice shouted: "TAEHYUN-AH! TAERI-YAH!!"
The kids squealed in delight. "UNCLE! AUNT!"
Namjoon and Jinnie ran forward, arms wide open. The twins crashed into them.
Namjoon lifted both children at once, spinning them with ease. "You two grew taller again!"
Taehyungie laughed, and before she could speak, Namjoon stepped over, eyes soft. He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her head. "Welcome home, sis."
Jinnie hugged her next, already crying. "It's really you. It's really... you."
Yoongi joined last, throwing an arm around Jiminie and giving Taehyungie a nod. "Glad you're back, Tae."
Jiminie kissed his cheek. "Glad you waited."
The group headed to the waiting cars, the twins bouncing between their aunts and uncles. Taehyungie stayed a step behind, eyes drinking in Seoul's familiar gray sky.
She was home. But she was also walking into the lion's den.
--
[KIM MANSION]
The twins ran through the large halls of Namjoon and Jinnie's elegant house like a gust of warm wind.
"Don't run too far!" Jiminie called, laughing as Taehyun and Taeri giggled their way into the kitchen.
"I love it here," Taeri announced, climbing up onto the barstool. "It smells like cookies."
"That's because Auntie Jinne is baking your favorite," Namjoon said, smiling as he handed her a glass of warm banana milk. "You remember?"
"I remember everything!" Taehyun declared with pride, his legs swinging under the counter. "Especially desserts."
The adults chuckled.
Taehyungie stood by the patio window, arms crossed over her chest, watching the cherry blossom trees sway slightly in the warm Seoul breeze. She hadn't realized how much she missed home... until now.
Behind her, Jinnie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They're happy here. You'll be safe, you know."
Taehyungie nodded slowly, voice soft. "For how long, though?"
Before Jinnie could answer, the twins' laughter faded into thoughtful silence.
"Mommy..." Taehyun said, his small voice uncertain.
Taehyungie turned, instantly alert. "Yes, baby?"
Taeri looked up at her, hands folded over her glass. "Is... our appa in Seoul too?"
The room fell quiet. Jinnie froze in place. Jiminie stilled from unpacking a box.
Taehyungie blinked. Taehyun was watching her, curious and innocent. "You said he was far away before. But now we're here. Is he here too?"
Taehyungie knelt beside them, smoothing her palm over Taeri's soft hair.
"No, sweetheart," she said gently. "He's not here. And even if he was... it doesn't matter."
Taeri pouted. "Why?"
"Because you have me," Taehyungie whispered, kissing both their foreheads. "And your uncles, and aunties. We're your whole world, aren't we?"
The twins nodded, though something flickered behind their eyes. A quiet ache neither of them could name.
That night, after the twins were tucked into bed and fast asleep, Taehyungie stood on the balcony of the guest room, the Seoul skyline stretching endlessly before her.
Jiminie stepped out beside her, arms folded. "They're asking more now," she said quietly.
Taehyungie didn't look at her. "I know."
"You can't hide the truth forever."
"I don't plan to." Taehyungie's voice cracked just a little. "But not yet."
She closed her eyes.
Not until I'm sure he doesn't deserve them.
--
The air inside the Jeon Enterprises' executive boardroom was still, tense — charged. Every seat at the long, gleaming table was filled with powerful men and women in tailored suits. The Chairman himself sat at the head, stoic and analytical, his sharp gaze sweeping over every move.
Taehyungie stood at the opposite end of the room, a vision of power and grace in a cream blazer and matching slacks. Her hair was pulled back in a neat twist, not a single strand out of place. Beside her stood Jiminie, composed but internally jittery. Across the table, Jungkook sat beside Hoseok, eyes burning holes into Taehyungie's figure.
Across the table, Jungkook sat beside Hoseok, eyes burning holes into Taehyungie's figure
He hadn't seen her in days. Not since that meeting in her office.
Not since she shut him out.
But now... she was standing in his world, the same girl who used to wear strawberry clips in her hair — now an empress dressed in Prada, speaking with the elegance of a sovereign.
"...And as our projections show," Taehyungie's voice rang clearly, unshaken, "a collaboration with Jeon Enterprises will not only increase brand prestige globally, but offer your upcoming collection a bold, cultural reinvention."
She finished with a polite smile, her brown eyes cold and unreadable.
The room broke into a ripple of applause. The Chairman clapped slowly, his sharp eyes now focused directly on her. She seemed familiar but the old man was in no mood to remember.
"Impressive," he said, tone serious. "I've seen presentations from Milan, Tokyo, even Berlin this year. But this—this is bold. Fresh. Confident."
He looked to Jungkook.
"She reminds me of your mother, doesn't she?"
Jungkook didn't respond, gaze still fixed on Taehyungie, heart thudding so violently he was sure everyone could hear it.
As the meeting dispersed, executives standing to shake hands or head out, Jungkook made a beeline for her. She was speaking to Jiminie, her shoulder turned slightly when she caught sight of him.
"Taehyungie," he called gently, stopping beside her.
She turned, her face composed but eyes fierce. "We're done here, Mr. Jeon," she said smoothly. "Let's keep it that way."
He opened his mouth, desperate to say anything — but another voice interrupted. "Oh, there you are," came a honeyed voice from behind him.
A woman in a red silk dress waltzed into the space, clinging to Jungkook's arm with ease. Long black curls, bold red lipstick, and a gaze sharp enough to slice steel.
Taehyungie's eyes narrowed just slightly.
The woman looked her over with a once-over too deliberate to be polite. "You must be the designer," she said, as if the word tasted foreign on her tongue.
Taehyungie smiled, something icy resting just beneath it. "And you must be someone important," she said sweetly, "since you're speaking before being introduced."
Jungkook stiffened. "Taehyungie, this is—"
"Not interested," she cut in smoothly, her voice calm, her eyes blank.
She gave one last look at the woman on his arm — a silent, surgical glance that made her shift slightly.
Then, she turned her eyes to Jungkook — and for a second, he swore he saw something flash in them. Disappointment? Disgust? He didn't know.
But she scoffed, low and cold, then walked away — heels clicking like gunshots on marble.
And Jungkook stood there, mute, while the girl on his arm smirked.
--
Back in the sleek limousine, Taehyungie sat in silence. Her eyes stared blankly out the window, Seoul's familiar skyline blurring past. The city she once called home now felt foreign, stifling.
Jiminie, seated beside her, fidgeted, unsure whether to speak.
But Taehyungie beat her to it. "He hasn't changed," she said flatly.
Jiminie turned to her. "Tae..."
"I mean it," Taehyungie's voice was calm, but laced with something sharp, like glass under silk. "He hasn't changed. Still playing games. Still letting women drape themselves on him like jewelry. Still pretending like what we had didn't matter."
"He looked—surprised. And panicked," Jiminie said quietly.
Taehyungie let out a bitter laugh. "He should be. But not because of me — because I won't let him drag me down again."
Jiminie looked at her best friend, noticing the way Taehyungie's fingers trembled slightly on her lap. She hated that Jungkook could still get under her skin.
"You deserve better," Jiminie murmured.
"I know," Taehyungie replied, then clenched her jaw. "That's why I'll never forgive him."
--
Same evening – Jeon Mansion
Jungkook barged into the grand study where his father sat swirling whiskey in a glass. The room was dim, lit only by the fireplace and the amber glow of an overhead chandelier.
"You didn't tell me she'd be here," Jungkook said sharply.
Mr. Jeon didn't flinch. "You didn't ask."
Jungkook's fists clenched at his sides. "Was that the real reason you pushed this meeting? You knew."
His father gave a lazy shrug. "I knew the designer's firm. I didn't know she was the designer."
"Don't lie to me," Jungkook said, stepping forward. "You've always known how I—"
"How you used to feel," Mr. Jeon corrected coldly. "You think you can build an empire while nursing childhood heartbreaks? Grow up, Jungkook. You're not a boy anymore."
Jungkook stared at him, heart pounding. "I don't want anyone else. Not the girl from the party. Not whoever you plan to toss my way next."
"You'll do what's best for the company," his father snapped. "And that includes marrying into power. We're not in this business to chase feelings."
Jungkook's mouth opened — but no words came. Because he knew. Knew that the empire his family built didn't have space for love.
But even so... he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Her eyes, cold as winter.
Her voice, distant and final.
And the worst part?
She had every right to hate him.
--
The hallway was dimly lit, only the warm glow of the chandeliers casting soft golden shadows across the marble floor. Taehyungie stepped out of the twins' bedroom quietly, her steps light and controlled — graceful even in exhaustion.
She had kissed their foreheads, tucked them in, and whispered promises of safety she prayed she could keep. Now, all she needed was a cup of warm tea and a moment to herself.
But the low murmur of voices made her pause near the stairwell.
"...I mean it, Yoongi," Namjoon's voice was firm but quiet. "Don't tell her what happened five years ago. It'll only complicate things."
Yoongi sighed. "You think she'll never find out? You think it won't matter that Jungkook came back begging for forgiveness, crying his lungs out in your apartment like a goddamn wreck?"
Taehyungie's heart jumped in her chest.
She stepped back instinctively, not yet catching the words — only muffled voices, low and steady behind the cracked door to Namjoon's study.
She inched closer.
"He was too late, hyung. You know that. She had already left. Pregnant. Alone," Yoongi said, softer now.
"She deserved peace," Namjoon replied. "And if keeping that night buried gives her more time to heal, then I'll take it to the grave."
Taehyungie leaned a little closer—
"Tae-ah!" Jinnie's voice called from the hallway behind her. She straightened immediately, startled. Jinnie stood with a warm smile and a cup of tea in hand.
"Come, love. Let's get some warmth in your bones. You've had a long day," Jinnie said gently, unaware of the tension vibrating through Taehyungie's spine.
Taehyungie gave one last glance toward the door, where the voices had gone quiet. Her expression remained unreadable, composed.
She turned with a nod, following Jinnie down the corridor.
But a shadow had already settled across her thoughts.
What had happened five years ago? And what was being kept from her?
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 14: Fractured blossoms in the garden
Chapter Text
The city of Seoul glittered outside the window of Jungkook's penthouse suite — but he wasn't admiring the view. He stood at the edge of his balcony, shirt sleeves rolled up, fists clenched at his sides, trying to breathe past the storm building in his chest.
He hadn't seen her that way in years — powerful, graceful, utterly untouchable. But colder than ice. She hadn't even looked at him twice after that meeting, and the way she'd walked out on him with that chairman's daughter clinging to his side... it shattered something inside him.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
He hesitated before snatching it up. "Hyung?"
"It's me," Hoseok's voice was calm but firm. "You need to know something."
Jungkook closed his eyes. "If it's about tomorrow's follow-up, I already—"
"It's not about the follow-up," Hoseok interrupted. "It's your father."
Jungkook stilled.
"He's suspicious," Hoseok said. "He saw how you were looking at Taehyungie. He's been pressing the chairman's daughter to spend more time around you — he's angling for an engagement."
Jungkook's stomach turned. "I told him I don't want her."
"Well, he's not listening. And worse — he's planning dinner, at the main Jeon residence. He wants both of them there."
"Taehyungie won't go," Jungkook muttered, turning away from the balcony railing, eyes dark with panic.
"He might not give her a choice," Hoseok warned. "You know how your father plays this game."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Jungkook asked, barely above a whisper, "She hates me, doesn't she?"
Hoseok sighed. "It's not hate, Jungkook."
"What is it, then?"
"It's pain," Hoseok said. "And the worst part? You're the only one who caused it... and the only one who might ever fix it."
Jungkook leaned his head against the glass, eyes shut, his breath uneven. "I don't know if she'll ever forgive me."
"Then you've got work to do," Hoseok said. "Because this time... if you let her go, she won't come back."
--
The air was thick with the scent of cherry blossoms. A gentle breeze swayed through the garden, brushing against Taehyungie's blazer. Her heels clicked softly on the paved stones as she wandered deeper, needing to breathe — to think — after the tense meeting with Jeon Enterprises.
Namjoon spotted her from a distance. He knew that posture all too well — shoulders stiff with pride but weighed with exhaustion.
"Tae," he called softly, voice low, careful not to startle her.
She turned around. Her eyes shimmered, not from tears, but restraint. She wasn't going to cry — not in front of anyone. Especially not now. But the sight of her older brother made her heart loosen, just a little.
"Oppa," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper.
They sat on the wooden bench under the sakura tree. A silence settled between them, but it was not uncomfortable. Namjoon waited patiently. He never rushed her.
After a long pause, Taehyungie finally spoke. "Do you think I made a mistake... coming here?"
Namjoon furrowed his brows, leaning closer. "No. Why would you think that?"
"Because seeing him again... it opened wounds I buried so deep, I thought they'd never bleed again."
Namjoon was quiet.
"I hate him," she continued, more firmly. "But when I saw him — when he looked at me like that — I was thirteen again. Stupid. In love. And foolish."
Namjoon placed a comforting hand on her back. "Tae... he doesn't deserve to know what he broke. But you... you built something greater from it. You survived."
Taehyungie blinked back tears. "I don't feel strong." "But you are," he said. "You're the strongest woman I know. And I'm proud of you."
She leaned her head on his shoulder for a brief moment. "The twins... they're starting to ask again. About him."
Namjoon swallowed hard. "Do you know what you're going to say?"
"No," she whispered. "But I'll protect them. Always."
From the distance, muffled voices of Yoongi and Namjoon's earlier conversation about Jungkook drifted in the wind. Taehyungie caught only fragments. But before she could turn, Jinnie's voice called out from the hallway, "Taehyungie? Dinner's almost ready!"
With a sigh, she stood up along with Namjoon. The moment had passed. The pain still lingered.
--
Across the city, Jungkook sat in his office, staring at the skyline through his penthouse window. He barely noticed Hoseok's entrance until the CFO cleared his throat.
Jungkook turned, tired eyes barely masking the storm within.
"What is it?"
Hoseok closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. "Your father called."
Jungkook frowned. "What did he want this time?"
"A reminder," Hoseok said. "This time he's serious. He wants you to bring a date."
Jungkook's expression darkened. "I told him I'm not doing that matchmaking circus."
"I told him that," Hoseok replied, "but he said if you don't show up, he'll cut you off from the board. Permanently."
A silence settled between them.
Jungkook scoffed and walked to his desk, his fingers tracing the edge of the photo frame he always kept hidden — a picture of Taehyungie from years ago. He flipped it face-down before speaking again.
"I'll go," he muttered. "But not with a date."
"Not even Taehyungie?" Hoseok tested gently.
Jungkook turned sharply. "She won't even breathe near me. I messed up, Hoseok hyung. I shattered her."
"Fix it"
"She won't let me."
--
The soft rustling of envelopes echoed in the living room as Taehyungie flipped the gold-embossed card in her hand. The seal of Jeon Enterprises gleamed beneath the light—an official invitation, handwritten and signed by none other than Chairman Jeon himself. Her brows furrowed as she read the neat calligraphy again, her jaw tightening.
"Dinner?" she muttered under her breath, tossing the card onto the table like it burned her fingers.
Namjoon looked up from the couch, concern written all over his face. "What's that?"
"An invitation," she said sharply. "From Chairman Jeon. Apparently, it's a business dinner... but we both know who'll be there."
Jinnie gently took the card, reading it quietly. "It's not optional, is it?"
Taehyungie exhaled deeply. "I'm not going."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow. "Taehyungie—"
"I said I'm not going!" she snapped. Her voice cracked more than she wanted it to. "I don't want to see him again, not after everything. Not in a room full of people who knew us watching like we're still a tragic romance in their drama series."
Namjoon stood and walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "And that's exactly why you should go. You don't owe Jungkook anything—but what you do owe yourself is the power to show him he doesn't get to rattle you anymore."
Jinnie nodded, her voice soft but firm. "You've worked too hard, Tae. You walk into that room as the woman you are now, not the girl he left behind."
Taehyungie swallowed, her heart thudding against her chest. The silence hung for a moment before she whispered, "Fine. I'll go. But I'm not doing this for him."
Later that evening, the house buzzed with soft music and the flutter of excitement. Jiminie, seated beside Taehyungie's vanity, handed her a pair of delicate earrings.
"You're sure about this?" she asked, fastening the clasps on Taehyungie's elegant black gown.
"I'm sure I need him to see that I'm not broken," Taehyungie said, her voice cool and composed.
Just then, tiny footsteps padded into the room. "Mama!" Taeri giggled as she ran in, Taehyun on his heels. They stopped in their tracks, eyes going wide.
"You look like a queen!" Taeri squealed, twirling in delight.
"You pwetty, mama!" Taehyun added, hugging her legs tightly.
A soft smile cracked through Taehyungie's otherwise steely expression. She knelt down and kissed their heads. "Thank you, my loves."
"Are you going to see the bunny man?" Taeri asked innocently.
Taehyungie's smile faltered. Jiminie swooped in quickly. "No, sweethearts. Mommy has a meeting with some very boring grown-ups."
As the twins ran off, Jiminie looked at Taehyungie through the mirror. "You okay?"
"yeah," Taehyungie murmured. "They must really love this bunny man."
--
The Jeon residence was glowing with elegance as the black car pulled up the long drive. Taehyungie stepped out in a sleek, off-shoulder black gown, her hair pinned in soft curls. Her lips were a fierce red — not just for beauty, but armor. She wasn't here as a woman scorned. She was here as the Director of Madison Duval Atelier.
Jiminie, stunning in a wine-red dress, whispered, "You got this, Tae
"Can't promise that," Taehyungie replied under her breath
Inside, Jeon residence glittered with opulence that night — tall crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light on the marble floors, and the dining hall was alive with chatter, champagne flutes, and the clinking of fine cutlery. The long table was surrounded by dignitaries, business partners, and extended family. Jungkook sat at the far end, swirling the wine in his glass, his fingers tense despite the soft music playing in the background.
Jungkook wasn't sure why he came. Maybe out of duty. Maybe curiosity. But deep down, he knew why — a hope he didn't dare name.
"Jeon," a voice said beside him. Hoseok leaned in, smirking knowingly. "Try not to choke when you see her."
Jungkook gave him a dry glare. "I'm not—"
Before he could finish, the doors to the hall opened. Silence fell like a wave.
There she stood.
Taehyungie.
Grace in motion.
She walked with regal elegance, her gown a shade of midnight silk that kissed her curves, her posture straight, her chin tilted just enough to command the room. Her long earrings swayed softly with every step, and her eyes — sharp, unreadable — scanned the table.
Jungkook forgot to breathe.
The conversations around him blurred into nothing. The crystal glass in his hand trembled slightly. She looked like everything he had ever lost and everything he still longed for.
He stood instinctively as she neared. Everyone did.
But she didn't look at him.
Not once.
Not even when she reached the table and greeted Chairman Jeon with a polite bow. Her voice was like velvet — calm, professional. She smiled at the others, her poise untouchable.
When she finally sat across from Jungkook, her gaze brushed over him like he was a stranger. Cold. Distant. Beautiful.
His chest tightened.
He didn't know how long he stared, but Hoseok elbowed him under the table, muttering, "You're drooling."
Jungkook blinked and sat up straighter, heat rising to his face.
He could feel her thorns and her ice. But beneath that, he still saw her. His Taehyungie. His mistake.
And God help him... he was smitten all over again.
She hadn't said a word to him, not even a glance, and the silence between them screamed louder than any argument ever could.
After an excruciating few minutes, Jungkook rose slightly, murmuring a quiet, "You look... beautiful tonight." voice soft enough to be swallowed by the gentle hum of conversation around them.
She didn't react. Jungkook side glances at Hoseok.
"Can we talk?" he tried again, barely above a whisper.
Silence. Like he never spoke.
Jungkook sat down again slowly, his gaze trailing her every move. He longed to speak to her—anything at all—but she sat beside Jiminie with the grace of a statue and the cold of a glacier. Her posture was perfect, her expression unreadable.
Jungkook tried again, leaning toward her just slightly. "Taehyungie, I—"
Her eyes flicked to him with a calmness that chilled his spine. "Is there something regarding the business proposal you wish to clarify, Mr. Jeon?"
His throat dried. "That's not—"
She turned her head, the curve of her jaw sharp like a blade. "Then I suggest we save personal distractions for another time. If there is one."
He blinked. Wounded. Silenced.
Jiminie couldn't hide the proud smirk tugging at her lips.
Just then, the heavy doors creaked open again.
A woman strutted in—Choi Seoyoon. Every strand of her hair was in perfect place, and her body language oozed the self-satisfaction of someone born on silk sheets and trained to flaunt it. She wore red, loud and deliberate, as though she demanded the entire room bend to her presence.
"Sorry for being late," she said, her voice sweet like poison, "I was picking out the right lipstick. First impressions are everything, aren't they?" her eyes scan the room and she smiles when she sees Jungkook.
"Jungie darling~~" she hurried towards him but her gaze fell on Taehyungie.
"Oh," Seoyoon said with a smirk. "The Parisian designer everyone's fussing over. You didn't look to pleased when Jungie was trying to introduce me the other time."
Taehyungie didn't even flinch. Her lashes flutter, eyes locking onto Seoyoon's with practiced indifference.
"And you must be the daughter of the chairman everyone's trying not to mention."
Seoyoon's smile faltered.
Taehyungie tilted her head slightly, voice still calm. "I've seen your work. Bold choices. Questionable execution. But I suppose you make up for it with... enthusiasm."
Jungkook nearly choked air
Hoseok was too stunned to speak.
Seoyoon's face flushed, Taehyungie leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs as if Seoyoon no longer existed. Jiminie and Hoseok tried to stifle a laugh.
Jungkook's heart pounded like a war drum.
She hadn't just changed.
She had become a force.
And tonight, he was completely at her mercy.
Chairman Jeon stood, gently tapping the side of his glass with a spoon to draw attention. The elegant dining room quieted, the soft clinking of silverware fading into silence. Everyone turned their eyes to the head of the table.
"Thank you all for coming," the chairman began, his voice deep and deliberate. "It's not often we gather like this—especially for something as delicate and important as what Jeon Enterprises is planning for the future."
He glanced briefly at Jungkook, then around the table. "My wife sends her regards. She's unfortunately unwell and couldn't join us tonight."
At that, Taehyungie's eyes subtly lifted, her posture softening just slightly. Her heart tugged at the memory of the gentle woman who used to call her "little star" when she stayed over during her childhood years. The woman had always been kind.
Chairman Jeon continued. "Nevertheless, this dinner is a celebration of our ongoing partnerships and an introduction to what lies ahead."
As he sat, murmurs of acknowledgment filled the space. A few guests raised glasses, and conversation resumed.
On Jungkook's left, Seoyoon leaned in and looped her hand around his arm, resting her head momentarily on his shoulder with a girlish giggle. "You didn't tell me your family throws such grand dinners," she said, too loudly, her voice like glass scratching marble.
Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, stiff as stone. His eyes flicked across the table to Taehyung, who sat poised, head slightly tilted, her expression unreadable—but the glint in her eyes told him everything. She had noticed.
He gently pried his arm from Seoyoon's grip and straightened in his seat. "Don't do that," he muttered under his breath.
Seoyoon pouted, clearly displeased, but said nothing more as the doors opened and the serving staff filed in gracefully with trays of elegantly plated dishes.
One of the maids—a woman with soft eyes and lines of age carved gently into her face—paused as she reached Taehyungie. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened.
"Miss... Taehyung?" she whispered, nearly dropping the plate.
Taehyungie blinked, surprised, then slowly smiled. "Minji Auntie?"
The woman's eyes shimmered with disbelief. "Oh my goodness... it is you. I used to carry you and Master Jungkook around the garden. You were always running off into the flowerbeds."
A breathy laugh escaped Taehyungie's lips, and for a second, the ice around her heart thawed. "You used to sneak extra snacks when we were in trouble," she murmured, her voice laced with fondness.
Minji smiled brightly, carefully placing the plate in front of her. "You've grown into such a fine young woman. It warms my heart to see you again."
"Likewise, Minji Auntie," Taehyungie said softly.
From his place across the table, Jungkook watched the interaction—his fingers pausing above his wine glass. There was a look on her face he hadn't seen in years: softness, warmth, vulnerability. It broke something in him.
Jiminie, seated beside Taehyungie, glanced at the former maid and then at Taehyungie, nudging her gently beneath the table. "You okay?" she whispered.
Taehyungie nodded, straightening her posture again. The moment of nostalgia had passed, and the mask of composure slipped back into place.
Jungkook turned away from Seoyoon entirely now, unable to pretend for even a second longer. Every part of him wanted to speak, to explain, to reach across time and touch the Taehyungie who smiled like she used to. But that version of her had been buried beneath years of heartbreak—and it was his fault.
And now she barely looked at him.
--
Silver cutlery chimed gently against porcelain as light chatter buzzed through the opulent dining room. The chandeliers cast a warm glow over the long mahogany table, giving the evening an air of luxury. Taehyungie sat with a perfect smile on her face, every inch the poised businesswoman.
That was until Chairman Jeon stood again, glass in hand, a proud twinkle in his eye.
"Before we conclude this beautiful meal," he began, voice booming with pride, "I'd like to share a bit of personal joy. My son Jungkook and Choi Seoyoon have been seeing each other—"
Jungkook's fork clattered to his plate. Taehyungie's heart slammed against her ribs.
"—and we're discussing marriage," the chairman finished with finality.
The room stilled. You could hear the wine being poured across the room. A series of claps echoed later on.
Jungkook clenched his fists under the table, his jaw ticking with rage. "What the hell is he saying?"
Beside him, Seoyoon beamed and leaned in closer, wrapping her fingers possessively around Jungkook's wrist. "Aren't we just adorable together?" she sang, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Across the table, Taehyungie froze mid-bite. The food caught in her throat.
Suddenly, her breaths came shallow—her throat tightening, her chest rising rapidly.
"Tae?" Jiminie whispered in alarm. "Hey—are you okay?"
Taehyungie's eyes widened as she began to choke, her hand clutching at her chest. Jiminie stood up in a panic, grabbing a glass of water, but as soon as Taehyungie drank, it only seemed to worsen.
The entire room turned toward her in shock. Gasps rang out. A few guests started rising from their seats, unsure of what to do.
Except Seoyoon.
She merely rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Drama queen," she muttered under her breath.
Jungkook didn't hesitate. He rushed to Taehyung's side, kneeling beside her chair. "Taehyungie—hey, look at me. Breathe slowly. In... out."
His hand hovered by her back, unsure if he was allowed to touch her.
Tears welled in her eyes as she fought to steady her breath. Finally, after several shaky inhalations, the pressure in her chest eased. She blinked furiously, brushing a tear from her cheek as she stood abruptly.
"Excuse me," she said, voice trembling but dignified. She turned to the chairman with a stiff bow. "Thank you for the dinner, Chairman Jeon."
Then she walked out, heels clacking hard against the marble floor, posture straight despite the storm in her chest.
Jiminie threw a sharp glare at Jungkook before hurrying after her. "Tae—wait!"
But Jungkook wasn't done.
He followed her out of the estate, through the long hallway and into the courtyard where the black car awaited. Just before she opened the door, he caught up and reached out.
"Taehyungie—wait."
Her body went rigid as his fingers barely brushed her arm.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, yanking her arm away like his skin burned her.
Jiminie froze, eyes narrowing. "You've done enough," she bit out coldly.
Jungkook ignored her. "What my father said—it's not true. I never agreed to it. I don't even like her, Taehyungie."
She looked at him then, a bitter smile creeping on her lips. "I don't care," she said sharply, venom in every syllable. "You can marry her for all I care. Sleep with her, live with her, rot with her."
His face paled.
She turned to open the car door, but—
"Oh please, not this again," came Seoyoon's voice from behind them.
She sauntered down the stairs, arms crossed, smirking. "You always cause a scene, Taehyungie. It's exhausting."
Taehyungie turned slowly, eyes ice cold. "Its Miss Kim to you and don't mistake my restraint for weakness, Seoyoon. You don't want to see what happens when I stop being polite."
Seoyoon scoffed. "Is that a threat?"
"No," Taehyungie smiled sweetly. "It's a promise."
With that, she slid into the backseat. Jiminie followed after her, shutting the door with a loud thud.
Jungkook stood still as the car pulled away, his heart shattered, Seoyoon chattering beside him as if nothing had happened.
But his eyes never left the taillights.
And all he could think about was the way her voice broke when she said she didn't care—because deep down, he knew she did.
He just didn't know if it was too late to fix what he destroyed.
--
The car ride back to the house was shrouded in heavy silence. The warmth of the Seoul night outside did nothing to ease the coldness in the air between Taehyungie and her thoughts. Jiminie sat beside her, arms crossed protectively, glancing at her best friend every few seconds with concern.
Taehyungie's eyes stared out the window, expression stoic, but the glossy layer veiling her irises betrayed her inner turmoil. Her breaths were shallow. Her fingers trembled as they clenched into her lap.
"You okay?" Jiminie finally whispered, unable to bear the silence.
Taehyungie didn't answer. Not right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and let the memory of Chairman Jeon's words replay again and again.
'My son and Seoyoon are seeing each other to be married.'
A bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. "Do I look like a fool to the world?" she said, her voice hoarse, cracking from the pressure that had built up inside her. "Is that what I am, Minie? A fool?"
Jiminie turned to her completely. "No. You're not. You're the strongest person I know."
"Then why does this still hurt?" Taehyungie's voice broke, and tears slipped down her cheeks, quiet and unstoppable. "He looked me in the eye five years ago and told me it was just a dare... and I still—" She stopped herself, biting down hard on her lower lip.
Jiminie reached out and grasped her hand tightly. "He doesn't deserve your tears, Tae. You don't owe him anything. Not even your pain."
When they reached the house, the twins were already asleep in their rooms, their soft breathing the only thing that soothed Taehyungie's aching heart. She entered their room quietly, brushing a hand through Taehyun's hair and pressing a kiss to Taeri's forehead.
She stood over them for a moment longer before whispering to herself, "I won't let him take even this from me."
And with that, she turned to Jiminie and said, "We go back to Paris. I've had enough."
--
Back at the Jeon estate, Jungkook slammed the door to his father's study open, rage flooding his veins.
Chairman Jeon sat calmly behind his large mahogany desk, sipping aged scotch like nothing had happened. "Is there a reason you're storming into my study like a wild man?" he asked coolly, not even lifting his gaze.
"What the hell was that?" Jungkook barked. "You said nothing about making an announcement! You blindsided me!"
"I didn't blindside you," the chairman replied. "I protected your legacy. You refuse to settle down, refuse to think long-term—so I made a decision for you. Seoyoon is a good woman, from a good family. You need someone like her by your side."
"I don't want her," Jungkook growled. "I will never want her."
The chairman's eyes narrowed. "Then who? That woman you left behind in middle school? That girl you broke and who now won't even look at you?" (He doesn't know about the dare. He only knows about their childhood love)
Jungkook froze. His jaw clenched tightly. "Don't talk about her."
"Oh, I will," Chairman Jeon snapped, slamming his glass onto the desk. "She's the one who's made you weak. You've been chasing after her ghost for years. I let it go then because I thought you'd move on—but now she's back, and suddenly my son can't focus on business?"
"She is not a ghost," Jungkook seethed. "She's everything I've ever loved, and you don't get to dictate who I choose."
"And yet," his father said with a sneer, "you never chose her when it mattered. You chose pride. You chose fear. Don't come crying to me now because the consequences are here."
Jungkook turned away, fists shaking at his sides, his entire body trembling with repressed emotion. "I won't marry Seoyoon. You can write me out of your will if that's what it takes. But I'm done living on your terms."
As he stormed out of the study, his father's voice followed him cold and unrelenting:
"You better figure out what you're fighting for, Jungkook. Before you lose it for good."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 15: Whispers in the dark
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The tall double doors to Seoyoon's bedroom slammed shut with a thunderous bang that echoed through the vast halls of her mansion. The heel of her expensive designer stilettos snapped mid-stride as she threw them off and stumbled toward her vanity. Her reflection stared back — smeared mascara, fury trembling in her lips, and her heart pounding in her ears.
Jungkook's words — sharp, cold, final — kept ringing like a curse through her mind.
"I don't like you, Seoyoon."
"No... no," she whispered, clutching at her chest as though she could physically tear the pain out. "He didn't mean it. He couldn't have."
But the way he'd shaken her off, the way he'd looked at Taehyungie — like she was the air he needed to breathe — burned Seoyoon more deeply than she expected. She'd spent years preparing for this. Groomed by her father, promised by Chairman Jeon himself, and now... discarded like nothing.
With a rage-fueled cry, she swept the perfume bottles and makeup off her vanity. Glass shattered. Liquids seeped into the lush carpet. Her hands trembled violently as she backed away, panting, tears streaking down her cheeks.
But amid the fury and humiliation, something else clawed its way forward: suspicion.
Taehyungie.
She saw it in the way Jungkook looked at her. In the way he ran after her outside the estate. And in the way she reacted — like she'd been pierced to her soul.
"There's something about those two that I don't know," Seoyoon whispered to herself, voice trembling but dangerous.
"This isn't over," she whispered "And if she thinks she's taking him away from me, she'll wish she never came back."
--
Sunlight spilled gently through the sheer curtains of the guest bedroom, casting a soft golden hue over the spacious room. The peaceful silence was soon broken by a pair of excited giggles as the twins tumbled onto the large bed, crawling over their sleeping mother like tiny balls of sunshine.
"Mamaaaa~" Taeri squealed, planting a kiss on Taehyungie's cheek.
Hyunie followed, pressing his chubby face into the crook of her neck and murmuring, "Good morning, Mama. You're so pwetty when you sweep."
Taehyungie blinked her eyes open slowly, a smile tugging at her lips despite the fatigue that still clung to her bones. The events of the previous night hovered like a shadow behind her smile — Chairman Jeon's announcement, Jungkook's hand on her arm, Seoyoon's smirk — but the weight of it melted away the moment her eyes landed on her babies.
"My sunshines," she whispered, wrapping her arms around them, pressing kisses to their little heads. "What would Mama do without you two?"
Taeri puffed her cheeks proudly. "Noffing! We make you happy~"
Hyunie giggled, throwing his arms up. "We're your happy pills!"
Their laughter echoed through the hallway just as Jinnie peeked her head into the room with a mock scolding glare.
"I knew it! I knew you two were the culprits making all this noise!" she teased, placing her hands on her hips. "Now come on, you little rascals — breakfast is almost ready."
Taeri and Hyunie sprang off the bed and darted to hug Jinnie, clinging to her legs like koalas. " Aunt Jinnie's food smells so good!" Taeri sang.
"But not better than Mama's," Hyunie added, crossing his arms seriously.
Taehyungie burst into laughter at that, tossing her head back as Jinnie gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me?!"
"Sorry, Aunt," Taeri giggled, "Mama's food is magic!"
They all laughed, the atmosphere light and joyful, like a balm over the heaviness Taehyung carried in her chest.
The aroma of pancakes, eggs, and freshly baked rolls filled the house as the family gathered around the long table. Yoongi sat beside Jiminie, sipping his coffee with one arm lazily thrown behind her chair. Namjoon read something on his phone, occasionally sliding fruits onto the twins' plates as they chattered about nothing and everything.
Taehyungie sat at the head of the table, watching her family — the ones who had stayed when everyone else had left — and felt a quiet warmth settle in her heart. This was home. Not Seoul. Not Paris. Here — in the laughter of her children, in Jinnie's gentle scolding, in Namjoon's quiet presence, in Jiminie's childish banter and Yoongi's teasing.
As they ate, Taehyungie opened her mouth, ready to inform the twins that they would be traveling later in the day — but Jinnie cut her off, unaware.
"Oh, by the way," Jinnie said brightly, "I'm taking the kids out shopping today."
Hyunie's fork clattered as he gasped, his eyes round. "Shopping?!"
"Really?!" Taeri squealed, bouncing in her seat.
Taehyungie raised a brow at Jinnie, surprised. Jinnie only winked and said across the table, " Tae, they deserve a threat. I'll take them to the fanciest playground after that."
Taehyungie's chest softened. She nodded,
"Yes," she agreed. "Go and have fun with Aunt Jinnie. But be good, hmm?"
The twins beamed and shouted in unison, "We will, Mama!"
And just like that, for a fleeting moment, all was right in Taehyung's world.
--
The soft rustle of fabric and the occasional giggle from the twins echoed through the sunlit room. Taehyungie knelt on the carpeted floor, gently tugging the zipper of Taeri's pink ruffled dress — a delicate piece that flared like a bell around her knees and brought a sparkle to her eyes.
"There we go," Taehyungie murmured with a proud smile, brushing a stray curl behind Taeri's ear. "My beautiful princess."
Taeri twirled around gleefully, the layers of her dress puffing like a blooming flower. "Mama, look! I'm a marshmallow!"
Hyun, already dressed in a neat baby blue button-down shirt and little black jeans, leaned on the edge of the bed with a lollipop between his lips and deadpanned, "You're a noisy marshmallow
Taeri stuck her tongue out
"I'm cool," he retorted smugly, puffing his chest out like he'd seen Yoongi do.
Taehyungie laughed softly, watching them bicker with nothing but affection in her gaze. These moments — these mundane, silly, perfect moments — were what anchored her heart through the storm.
Taeri skipped toward her brother, eyes twinkling. "Maybe... maybe today we'll see Bunny Man."
At that, Taehyun's head shot up. "Really?!"
Taehyungie stilled, her fingers tightening around the folded handkerchief she was placing in Hyun's pocket. Her breath hitched — barely — but enough for her to compose herself quickly.
"Taeri..." she said gently, standing and adjusting her daughter's hair ribbon. "Bunny Man isn't here."
"But—"
"Maybe... maybe if the world is kind, you'll see him again in Paris."
Her words were soft — hopeful, yet guarded. The weight behind them was one only a mother could carry.
The twins' smiles faltered. They looked at each other — a silent language they shared — before nodding with the small maturity that came from growing up just a bit too fast.
"Okay, Mama," they echoed quietly, clinging to her legs.
Taehyungie knelt down, pulling them both into her arms. "You don't need Bunny Man," she whispered into their hair. "You have each other. You have me."
A knock sounded at the door, light and rhythmic — Jinnie's cue.
"Time to go!" she sang from the hallway.
The twins brightened again, dashing to grab their tiny sling bags, already full of snacks and little trinkets.
As Jinnie entered, she let out a dramatic gasp. "What! Are these the same kids I met last week or did two dolls come to life?"
Hyun beamed. "We're pretty, right?"
Taeri turned like a runway model. "We're fashion!"
Jinnie laughed, shaking her head. "Come on, fashionistas. Let's make Seoul jealous."
As the trio walked ahead, Taehyungie followed them to the porch. She helped them into the car one by one, her fingers lingering longer on the door than necessary. A strange heaviness crept into her chest — that same intuitive tension she'd grown familiar with.
She smiled, forcing ease into her voice. "Have fun. Don't trouble Aunt Jinnie."
"We won't!" they chorused.
Taehyungie stepped back as the door closed, watching the car disappear down the driveway. The smile faded slowly from her face. She didn't know what this ache meant, or why it stirred again this morning.
But as she turned back toward the house, she whispered to herself, "It's just a normal day. That's all."
But somehow... it didn't feel like it.
--
The sun poured gently through the tall glass windows of Jungkook's penthouse, dappling the cream sheets in golden light. For the first time in what felt like forever, he woke up... lighter. His limbs didn't feel as heavy, his chest wasn't caged by tension. The echoes of last night still lived in his head — Taehyungie's eyes, that sharp hiss of "Don't touch me," the sound of her car door slamming shut — but strangely, something had eased.
Perhaps because he saw her. Breathed the same air. Felt her, even for a second.
His phone buzzed against the nightstand, vibrating insistently.
He picked it up and glanced at the caller ID: Mom.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good, you're up," his mother's voice chirped. "Can you pick up something from Maison du Bijou at the mall? They're holding a necklace I reserved. I would've sent one of the staff, but I need you to sign for it."
He groaned slightly. "Can't I send Hoseok?"
"I want you to go," she insisted firmly. "It's a gift for your aunt. She'll appreciate it more if you're the one who delivers it."
Jungkook rolled his eyes but smiled. "Fine. Text me the details."
After a quick shower and a change into sleek, black jeans and a beige shirt rolled at the sleeves, Jungkook grabbed his keys and made his way to the elevator. As he stepped into his jet-black Maybach and the engine hummed to life, a strange thing happened — he smiled. A real one. No suit. No boardroom. No pretense.
Maybe it was the fresh air. Or maybe... it was the fading trace of lavender he swore still clung to his memory from Taehyungie's presence.
Either way, his fingers tapped the wheel as he turned the corner.
Meanwhile, across town, the twins were living their best lives.
First stop: Seoul Aquarium. Jinnie had pulled every string she had to get them fast-track tickets, and the moment they stepped inside, Taeri gasped, pressing her face against the tank glass. "Look! It's Dory!" she squealed.
Hyun, more fascinated by the giant stingrays, whispered, "I think that one's smiling at me."
They saw sharks, glowing jellyfish, and even touched starfish at the petting tank. Jinnie took at least fifty photos, half of them blurry from the kids refusing to stand still.
Second stop: Bungeoppang cart stand near Dongdaemun.
"Fish bread!" Hyun chanted, hopping on the spot.
Taeri clutched her warm pastry like it was treasure. "Mama would like this," she said, then tilted her head. "We should bring some back."
Jinnie beamed. "We'll buy ten."
Third stop: Toy & Book Cafe in Samcheong-dong. The twins played on the mini slide, sipped tiny strawberry smoothies, and made a friend named Sunhee who had a unicorn backpack.
By the time they reached the mall, the sky was glowing with a soft afternoon light. The trio strolled through the wide corridor with shopping bags in Jinnie's hand and ice cream in the twins'.
"I've never spent this much in one day," Jinnie muttered, waving her card at the cashier. "You two are dangerous."
"We're cute," Taeri corrected with a wink.
They stepped away from the payment counter near the mall's central stop and, like twin magnets to wonder, Taeri and Taehyun wandered without Jinnie noticing. The sparkle of lights caught their attention — a beautiful jewelry boutique across the polished floor.
Inside, Jeon Jungkook stood at the front desk, nodding as the receptionist boxed his mother's necklace.
The twins paused, their eyes going wide.
"BUNNY MAN!" Taeri shrieked.
Hyun dropped his ice cream in shock. "IT'S HIM!"
Heads turned. The boutique went quiet for a second as the twins dashed in.
Jungkook blinked, startled, then his lips parted in disbelief as the two whirlwinds barreled into him.
He barely had time to react before little arms wrapped around his waist, one on each side.
"Bunny Man!" Taeri beamed, face tilted up. "We missed you!"
Hyun hugged tighter. "Are you lost again?!"
The receptionist looked baffled. Jungkook's stunned silence broke into a soft, unguarded laugh — the kind no one had heard from him in a long time.
He crouched down, brushing hair from Taeri's face.
"What are you two doing here?" he asked, his voice unusually gentle.
"We went fish-seeing!" Taeri said proudly. "And toy-looking. And we ate fish bread too!"
Jungkook grinned, his heart squeezing. "Did you now?"
Taeri grinned, bouncing with glee. "I knew we'd see you!"
He laughed — not one of those polite CEO laughs he gave during stiff meetings, but a real, from-the-chest sound.
"We missed you," Hyun said shyly.
"I..." Jungkook swallowed, eyes softening. "I missed you too."
Behind them, Jinnie's voice came out in a panicked shout. "TAERI! HYUN!"
She appeared at the shop's entrance, breathless — and froze when she saw who they were hugging.
Jungkook stood, meeting her gaze, still kneeling between the twins.
For a moment, none of them moved. And then Hyun looked up at Jinnie and said sweetly:
"We found Bunny Man."
oh fuck
"Jinnie?" Jungkook asked, rising slowly, one hand still resting protectively on Taeri's back.
"Hi Jungkook" Jinnie gave a stiff smile.
"I-- You know these kids?" he asks
Jinnie's lips parted, and for a second she looked like she might crumble. But then she inhaled sharply, forcing a casual smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.
"They're my cousin's kids," she said quickly, too quickly. "Their mom's out of town for work. I'm watching them while she's away."
Jungkook blinked. "Cousin?"
"Yeah," she said, stepping closer. "From Daegu."
He stared at her a moment longer, as if trying to pull truth from her face. But she was unreadable.
"Ah..." he muttered, gaze drifting back down to the twins. They were hugging his legs like he was their home.
"Why do you look like us?" Hyun asked innocently, peering up with those big, almond-shaped eyes.
Jinnie swooped in. "Alright, alright, say goodbye now. We need to head home."
"Noooo," Taeri cried, clinging tighter to Jungkook. "I want to stay with Bunny Man!"
"Yeah!" Hyun agreed, his eyes brimming with tears. "Let's take him with us!"
Jungkook crouched back down, heart thudding painfully in his chest.
He didn't understand this ache. He didn't know why their eyes looked so familiar. Why their voices cracked his walls like thunder.
He brushed Taeri's cheek with his thumb. "I can't come with you, little one..."
"Will we see you again?" she whispered.
Jungkook hesitated. The truth? He didn't know. And that scared him more than anything.
But he still smiled. "I think you will."
They weren't satisfied. Hyun sniffled. Taeri's lips wobbled.
So Jungkook reached into his coat pocket, pulled out two small bunny-shaped keychains — ones he'd bought recently and never used — and handed them to the twins.
"Here," he said softly. "To remember Bunny Man."
Taeri beamed through her tears. "Thank you!"
Jinnie gently pried them away and held their hands as they began to walk off — the twins clutching the keychains like treasure, still glancing over their shoulders.
Just before they disappeared down the corridor, Taeri turned and shouted:
"Don't forget us, Bunny Man!!"
Jungkook stood frozen.
"I couldn't," he whispered to himself. "he never would."
--
The ride home was strangely silent — at least for Jinnie.
She kept her eyes on the road, knuckles tight around the steering wheel, but her mind was in chaos. The twins, in contrast, were giggling in the back seat, their pink and blue bunny keychains clutched proudly in their tiny fists.
"Did you see how his hair sparkled under the lights?" Taeri asked dreamily, kicking her little legs.
"And his voice! I missed it! " Hyun chimed in, cheeks puffed with happiness.
Jinnie exhaled sharply through her nose. She had to keep it together. You can't tell her. Not yet.
"He gave us this bunny because we said we missed him!" Taeri waved her keychain dramatically. "He said we'll see him again!"
Jinnie blinked hard, forcing the tears back. Damn it, Jeon Jungkook... why today?
"Aunt Jinnie?" Taeri leaned forward. "Why did Bunny Man look like me and Hyun?"
Jinnie's grip on the wheel tightened. She forced a light chuckle. "Sweetheart, lots of people look alike. Maybe he just reminded you of someone."
"But he knew us," Hyun frowned.
Jinnie's heart clenched.
"We're home!" she announced too loudly, cutting off any more questions.
The car rolled to a stop and the kids burst out like fireworks, racing into the house.
"Mama! Mamaaaa!"
Taehyungie looked up from where she sat on the couch, her laptop half open. She barely had time to register their presence before she was nearly tackled by their enthusiasm.
"What on earth—?" she laughed, pulling them close.
"Mama! You'll never guess who we saw!" Taeri exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "Bunny Man!"
Taehyungie blinked, heart skipping. "Bunny... man?"
"He was so tall and pretty and nice! He gave us bunnies!" Hyun shoved his plush keychain into her hand.
Taehyungie looked down at the little trinket, her throat suddenly dry.
"Who—?"
"It wasn't--," Jinnie interjected quickly, already knowing her thoughts steps in with a too-tight smile. "Just someone who looked a lot like him. The kids were excited, that's all."
Taehyungie relaxed slightly. "Really?"
"Yup," Jinnie said firmly. "Some guy picking up jewelry. Total coincidence."
The twins, thankfully, were too busy hopping around the room and playing to add anything else. Taehyungie, though still uneasy, nodded slowly.
"Oh... okay."
She watched her children a little longer, eyes lingering on their bunny tokens, her fingers curling around the pink one in her palm.
Jinnie turned away quickly, pretending to check her phone, but her jaw was tight. I can't tell her. She'll panic. She'll want to leave.
She looked over at Taehyungie again — her best friend, her sister in every way that mattered — laughing now as Taeri attempted to style her hair with a pink scrunchie.
It's for the best, Jinnie told herself.
Even if her own conscience screamed otherwise.
--
Nightfall
The moonlight slipped through the half-open curtains, painting silver streaks across the soft rug in the twins' bedroom. Taehyungie sat on the edge of the bed, gently tucking the comforter beneath her children's chins.
Taeri curled into her mother's side, blinking sleepily.
Taehyun clutched his bunny plush, lips pressed into a small pout.
Taehyungie smoothed down their hair, her voice soft and calming.
"We'll be going back to Paris soon," she whispered.
The words hung in the air, heavy like a stormcloud.
Taeri's big, round eyes welled with unshed tears.
Taehyun looked away, lips quivering.
"Don't be sad, my loves," Taehyungie murmured, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. "We'll be home again. And your uncles and aunt will visit us. I promise."
They didn't answer. Just nodded, solemn and slow.
She lingered for a moment longer, brushing their cheeks with her thumbs, her heart aching.
"Everything I do... is for the best," she said more to herself than to them. "Now sleep well, my babies."
She stood and quietly walked to the door, switching off the light and pulling the door nearly shut.
Click.
The room was cast in darkness, save for the glow of the soft nightlight shaped like a moon in the corner.
Silence reigned for a few moments... until Taeri stirred.
"Hyun..." she whispered, voice barely above a breath.
"Hm?" he replied, rolling over to face her.
"I don't want to go yet."
"Me neither."
They held their bunny plush toys tightly, the day's memories flickering behind their eyes like stars.
"We didn't even tell bunny man we were leaving," Taeri said, her voice cracking.
Taehyun sniffled. "He said he would see us again."
"But how?" she asked, her voice wobbling with sadness.
Taehyun stayed quiet for a beat, then whispered, "Maybe... if the world is kind... we'll find him again."
They reached across the gap between their beds and held hands beneath their blankets.
The tears came silently—tiny rivers of heartbreak they didn't understand, only felt.
And in the stillness of the room, two small hearts ached quietly... for someone who didn't even know they belonged to him.
--
The soft hum of the air conditioning filled the dark room, mixing with the lazy rustle of sheets and the warm tangle of limbs beneath them. The moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains, casting pale shadows across the bed.
Jinnie lay with her head resting on Namjoon's bare chest, fingers tracing absentminded shapes along the contours of his skin. His hand moved gently through her hair, slow and comforting, like waves against the shore.
The air between them was quiet—sated, peaceful, and yet... heavy.
She tilted her head slightly, gazing up at him with a softness only he ever saw.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
Namjoon smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I am. Right now, I am."
Jinnie exhaled, sinking further into him. But her mind raced. Her thoughts were consumed not by what had just happened, but by what she knew. What she was hiding.
The image of Jungkook at the mall... the twins running into his arms... their laughter, their familiarity... his oblivion.
Jinnie bit her lip.
"I should tell him," she thought, heart thudding.
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
Taehyungie's face—strong and fragile all at once—flashed in her memory. The weight her friend carried every day. The secret she guarded like armor.
If Jungkook found out too soon... it would break everything apart.
Jinnie turned slightly, pressing her cheek against Namjoon's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I love you," she whispered, almost like a confession. Not just for him—but maybe to drown out the guilt pressing down on her.
Namjoon's eyes fluttered open. He smiled down at her, arms tightening.
"I love you more," he murmured, his voice low and rich in the quiet.
Jinnie closed her eyes.
For tonight, that was enough.
--
3 days later...
The morning sun filtered softly through the large bay windows, casting a golden glow across the living room. Suitcases were half-packed and stacked neatly by the door. Clothes hung over chairs. Travel documents were arranged on the console table. It was finally happening.
Taehyungie stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a sleek beige trench coat over a black turtleneck and black slacks. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low bun, her eyes tired but focused. She stared at herself—expression unreadable. Jiminie stood nearby in a stylish blazer, sipping from a thermos.
Jiminie stood nearby in a stylish blazer, sipping from a thermos
"I'll get the passports," Jimin said, leaving the room.
From down the hall came the shrill, unmistakable voices of Taeri and Taehyun
"I said I want the blue one!"
"No! It's mine! Mamaaaaaaa!"
Taehyungie sighed and gently pinched the bridge of her nose.
Seconds later, the twins came bounding into the room—Taeri in a half-buttoned cardigan, Taehyun dragging a stuffed bunny by one ear.
Jiminie reentered, eyebrows raised. "Don't tell me they're fighting again."
"I want my bunny to come with me!" Taeri cried.
"It's my bunny, noona!" Taehyun insisted.
They were both red-cheeked, pouty, and absolutely done with the morning.
Taehyungie crouched down, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Her tone was soft but firm.
"We're leaving in an hour. We don't have time for this," she said.
"But Mama—"
Taehyungie silenced them with a look, then gently reached for the toy. She handed it to Taeri and looked at Taehyun.
"You can hold it until we board the plane. But no more fighting. Please." She stood back up and ran a hand over her face, She smoothed down her coat, her face composed again.
The twins stood quietly now, sensing her mood. They clutched each other's hands, bunny between them.
"Let's finish packing," she said. "The faster we leave, the faster this all becomes a memory."
--
Jiminie moved swiftly through the hallway, her voice echoing as she confirmed last-minute details on the phone. Luggage stood zipped by the door, passports and tickets lined up in a neat stack.
Taehyungie stood near the dining table, adjusting the travel bag over her shoulder as she kept an eye on her two chaotic children.
"Taeri, Taehyun, please don't run—"
Too late.
A sharp thud reverberated through the room as Taehyun collided head-first into the corner of the console table. A cry followed.
Taehyungie's heart dropped.
"Hyunie!" she gasped, rushing toward him.
He held his forehead, tears welling up, blood beginning to streak down from a shallow cut just above his brow. Taeri, in her panic, tripped over her own feet while trying to get to him and landed hard on her elbow. Her shriek followed next.
Jiminie dropped her phone. "Oh my God."
The suitcases were forgotten. Panic bloomed as Taehyungie cradled Taehyun, gently wiping the blood with the hem of her sleeve, while Jiminie gathered Taeri in her arms. Jinnie and Namjoon shocked came out and gasp. "What happened!" Namjoon says as they rush to them.
Later That Afternoon...
The house was quiet, eerily so, after the emergency hospital visit. Both children had been treated. Taehyun's cut was thankfully minor and neatly bandaged, while Taeri's elbow was bruised but not broken. Still, the scare left Taehyungie rattled.
She sat on the couch, the twins asleep on either side of her, tucked under a blanket. Jiminie walked in from the kitchen with a warm cup of tea and placed it on the table.
"I rescheduled the flights," Jiminie said softly, sitting beside her. "One week from today."
Taehyungie nodded slowly, her gaze resting on her sleeping children.
"I couldn't... I couldn't just put them on a plane like that. Not after today."
"I know," Jiminie whispered. "You're doing what's best."
Taehyungie leaned her head back, her voice quiet, weary.
"One more week. Then we leave this place behind."
But something inside her twisted at the thought—an ache that wasn't just about the physical injuries of her children. It was something else. Something unspoken.
Something—or someone—still anchoring her here.
--
The penthouse was silent, moonlight spilling across the cold marble floor. A gentle hum from the air conditioner offered the only sound in the stillness.
Jungkook tossed beneath his silk sheets, his brow furrowed. His breaths came in quick bursts as shadows danced in his dream.
In it, two children ran through a foggy park—laughing, twirling—until suddenly, the ground beneath them cracked open. He screamed, reaching out, but they kept running. A faceless figure emerged behind them, dragging them away as they called out a single word.
"Appa!"
His heart thundered in his ears as he jolted upright, drenched in sweat. The room spun for a second before it slowly grounded back to reality.
Jungkook clutched his chest.
The name. That word.
He could still hear it.
"Appa."
He rose to his feet, shaky and confused, his bare feet meeting the cold tiles as he stumbled toward the window. The Seoul skyline shimmered, but he barely saw it. His mind was elsewhere.
Those twins... those kids.
He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to make sense of it. Why did they haunt his dreams? Why did his chest ache every time they smiled at him?
He wasn't a man prone to sentiment. He didn't soften easily. But something about those children—Taeri and Taehyun—wrapped around his heart like vines.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him out of his spiral. A message from Hoseok:
"Chairman Jeon wants you at brunch tomorrow. Don't be late."
He didn't respond. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, breathing slow.
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
He didn't know they were his.
He didn't know their mother still loved him under all her hate.
He didn't know he was dreaming of the life he had already lost.
But his heart did.
And it was screaming.
--🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
Who has watched kpop demon hunters?🥹🤍
Chapter 16: Poison in pearls
Chapter Text
The morning light spilled softly through the gauzy curtains of the kids room, bathing the space in a pale golden glow. Birds chirped faintly from the garden, but inside the house, two small faces peered nervously from beneath their blankets.
Taehyungie stood at the doorway, arms folded, watching her twins squirm on the bed like guilty puppies.
Taeri was the first to peek up, her hair a tousled halo around her face. "Mama..."
Taehyun followed a beat later, his bottom lip poked out in an exaggerated pout. "We're sorry..."
Taehyungie raised a brow, slowly stepping into the room. "Sorry for what?"
The twins exchanged a look, and then, like a synchronized routine, they flung the blanket off and sat up on the bed.
"We're sorry for making the plane go away," Taeri mumbled, her voice small.
"We didn't mean to make you sad," Taehyun added, rubbing his eyes. "Or scared."
Taehyungie walked to the edge of the bed and sat down with a soft sigh, heart softening as she looked at their tiny, guilt-stricken faces. "You know... planes don't just 'go away,' right?" she said gently.
"But it's gone," Taeri said with a wobbly lip. "And it was our fault..."
Taehyungie reached out and pulled them both into her arms. "My darlings, the plane didn't vanish. We just had to wait a little longer because someone decided to become superheroes and fly through the hallway."
Taeri giggled weakly. "But we weren't flying. We were falling..."
"That makes it worse," Taehyungie teased, kissing her forehead. "You scared me."
"We pinky promise to never fall again," Taehyun said solemnly, holding up his tiny pinky.
Taehyungie wrapped hers around it with a soft laugh. "I'll take that."
There was a beat of quiet before Taeri leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. "Do we... still have to leave in one week?"
Taehyungie hesitated for a moment, brushing their hair down gently. "Yes," she said softly. "We have to go back to Paris. That's our home."
The twins nodded slowly, their earlier pout returning, but this time laced with acceptance.
"Can we at least say goodbye to everyone?" Taeri asked. "Uncle Joonie and Aunt Jinnie and Uncle Yoongi?"
"Of course," Taehyungie smiled. "We'll do a proper goodbye."
She didn't ask about bunny man, though the name lingered unspoken between them. A part of her feared it would come up again—but this morning, she just wanted her babies to feel safe, and loved.
"Now come on," she said, standing up. "Breakfast is waiting. And I heard Aunt Jinnie made pancakes."
The twins gasped and scrambled off the bed with newfound energy, trailing behind their mother like ducklings.
And as they left the room hand in hand, the guilt of yesterday slowly melted into the soft comfort of a new day.
The smell of freshly made pancakes and syrup filled the house, drifting through the air like a warm welcome. Jinnie, in a pink apron with a cartoon hamster on the front, was already plating golden pancakes and juicy fruits, while Yoongi stood beside her pouring orange juice into small cups. Jiminie clung behind him like a koala.
Namjoon glanced up as he heard quick footsteps on the stairs, and he grinned when he saw Taehyungie walking down with her arms linked around the twins.
"Good morning, sleepyheads," Jinnie chimed from the kitchen island, wiping her hands on her apron. "Breakfast is almost—"
"Sorry, Auntie Jinnie," Taeri said abruptly, lowering her head.
Taehyun followed quickly. "And sorry, Uncle Joonie. Uncle Yoongi. Aunt Jiminie too"
The four adults exchanged confused glances as the twins bowed their heads politely.
Jinnie's face softened instantly. "Aww, what's this for?"
"We made Mama cancel the plane," Taeri whispered guiltily, fiddling with the hem of her dress.
"We fell down and Mama scared and we said sorry already but—" Taehyun's voice cracked slightly as his eyes grew glossy.
"Oh, come here," Jinnie said, rushing over and pulling them both into a tight hug.
"You two scared all of us," Namjoon said gently, crouching down beside them, "but you're alright now. That's what matters."
"We're not mad at you," Yoongi added, ruffling Taehyun's hair. "Just don't scare us like that again."
"But you both owe me chocolate" Jiminie sassed erupting the kids into giggles.
Taehyungie, watching from behind with folded arms, smiled softly at the sight of her little ones surrounded by love. For once, it felt like she wasn't alone in this journey.
Taeri turned to her mother. "Do you forgive us again?"
"Always," Taehyungie said, reaching for their tiny hands and guiding them to the dining table. "But you're eating all your fruits this morning as punishment."
That earned a chorus of giggles.
As the family gathered around the table, warm laughter filled the air. Jinnie served up steaming plates and Yoongi offered extra syrup. The morning began not with the bitterness of regret—but with the sweetness of second chances.
--
Jeon Jungkook's office was a fortress of clean lines, steel, and glass. The air was cool and focused—until the door slammed open without a knock.
He looked up from his desk, jaw tightening. "Seoyoon."
She walked in with the elegance of a trained heiress, her stilettos clicking on the marble floor like gunshots. She wore a fitted white dress that screamed expensive and desperate.
"You can't just barge into my office," Jungkook said coldly.
Seoyoon smirked, her red lips curving. "I don't need permission. We're practically engaged."
"No," Jungkook snapped, rising to his feet. "We're not. And we never will be."
Seoyoon's eyes darkened. "You think you can humiliate me in front of everyone? In front of your father?"
"I said nothing that wasn't true."
She took a step closer, her expression slipping from amused to venomous. "Let me make something clear, Jungkook. You're going to marry me. If not willingly... then forcefully."
Jungkook narrowed his eyes, disgust simmering beneath his cool exterior. "You're threatening me now?"
"Oh no, darling," she drawled. "Not you."
Her tone turned icy. "If I so much as catch a whisper about you and that woman, if there's something between you and Kim Taehyungie that I don't know about... she'll pay the price. I'll destroy her."
Something in Jungkook snapped.
He stalked around his desk, his presence suddenly towering. "Don't you dare speak her name like that."
Seoyoon blinked, taken aback by the raw fury behind his eyes.
"If you ever touch her—or even think of hurting her—I swear to God, I will be your worst nightmare."
She gave a shaky laugh, but there was fear behind it now. "You really care about her."
" I care about alot of things" Jungkook said, voice low and menacing.
Seoyoon turned to leave but paused at the door, her facade quickly returning. "We'll see, Jungkook. You always end up doing what your father wants."
As the door clicked shut behind her, Jungkook exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair.
He had to protect Taehyungie. And this time, he wouldn't let the past repeat itself.
--
The doors of the grand Choi estate slammed shut with a thud that echoed down the marble hallway. Seoyoon stormed through like a storm wrapped in silk—her heels biting into the floor, fists clenched at her sides.
She barged into her father's study, barely knocking. "Appa!" she snapped, eyes wide with fury.
Choi Daesung, a calm and dignified man in his late fifties, barely looked up from the newspaper spread before him. Dressed in his morning robe with a steaming cup of ginseng tea beside him, he looked more like a sage than the ruthless businessman people feared.
He sighed. "What is it this time, Seoyoon?"
Seoyoon crossed her arms. "Jungkook rejected me again. He's treating me like garbage in front of people, and now he's threatening me because of her!"
Daesung calmly turned the page of his paper. "Her?"
"That fashion witch!" Seoyoon nearly shrieked. "That Taehyungie girl who thinks just because she has legs and lipstick she can take everything I've waited years for!"
Her father finally looked up, tired eyes meeting hers. "You're being childish."
Seoyoon's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
Daesung placed the paper down and took a sip of tea before continuing. "The arrangement between Jeon Sangwoo and me was made years ago. We were hopeful children would follow through. But people grow up, Seoyoon. They make choices."
"No!" she shouted. "You promised me I'd be a Jeon. That Jungkook and I—"
"I said what I said for formality, not as a contract sealed in blood. If Jungkook doesn't want to marry you, then find someone else. You're beautiful, smart, wealthy—you don't need to chase after a man who doesn't want you."
Seoyoon's breathing became shallow, her shoulders trembling with rage.
"Find someone else?" she echoed. "You want me to find someone else after everything I've done for this family? After I shaped myself to be his wife for years?"
Daesung gave her a warning look. "Don't embarrass yourself."
The finality in his tone was deafening. She stood still for a moment, lips parted in shock.
Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched back to her room.
Upstairs, the door to her luxury suite slammed so hard the frame shuddered. The silence in her room cracked open as she screamed into it, grabbing a perfume bottle from her vanity and hurling it across the room. It shattered into glittering shards against the wall.
"He'll marry me," she growled, pacing with shaking hands and wild eyes. "I don't care what it takes."
She fell onto her bed, breathing hard as her mind spun in dangerous circles. Then slowly, a twisted smile tugged at her lips.
"Taehyungie... You think this is a fairytale?" she murmured. "I'll turn it into your worst nightmare."
She reached for her phone, her voice low and chilling as she dialed a number. "It's me. I want a real background check on Kim Taehyungie. Go back to Paris, Seoul—everywhere. I want to know everything."
And as the call ended, she sat back, eyes glinting with obsession.
"This isn't over."
--
Afternoon – Kim Residence
The sun filtered softly through the cream curtains of the living room where Jinnie was lounging with a skincare mask on, scrolling through a food blog. The twins sat at her feet, pretending to color innocently, but their eyes kept darting toward each other.
Taeri leaned over to whisper something to Taehyun, who giggled behind his hands.
Then, both of them turned to Jinnie with wide, sparkling eyes—their signature move.
"Jinnie Auntie?" Taeri said sweetly.
Jinnie didn't look up. "Mhm?"
"Can we go to the mall, please?" Taehyun chimed in, bouncing lightly.
Jinnie stopped, her heart skipped a beat, then masking her face peeled one corner of her face mask, frowning. "Mall? Again? We went six days ago."
"We want ice cream!" Taeri blurted, but her tone wasn't convincing.
"Yeah and new storybooks!" Taehyun added quickly.
Jinnie shook her head. No! They cant see Jungkook. not now. not ever. She looked at them as they blink innocently.
"Absolutely not. Your mama said to rest and stay in today."
Jinnie returned to her phone, but the twins pouted dramatically. Then, silently, they crept away—making a beeline for their next victim.
A Few Minutes Later – Jiminie's Room
Jiminie was painting her nails a soft peach when two small figures appeared in her doorway, each with a fake tear sliding down their cheeks.
She gasped. "Oh my god, why are my babies crying?!"
Taeri sniffled. "Jinnie Auntie said no mall..."
"Even though we were so so so good..." Taehyun added with a sad shake of his head.
Jiminie melted instantly, tossing her polish aside and scooping them both into her arms.
"My poor babies! Let's go right now—hold on, let me change!"
They high-fived behind her back.
Minutes later, they went to Taehyungie, who was sorting through some work samples in the living room.
Jiminie sauntered in, holding the twins' hands. "Tae~ the babies want some fresh air and mall fun. Should I take them?"
Taehyungie looked up, blinking. "The mall?"
"We'll just be a few hours! I'll keep an eye on them."
Taehyungie stared at her children, who now looked like angels with halos. She sighed.
"Fine. But no candy, and stay away from strangers. Got it?"
The twins beamed. "Yes, mama!"
--
Jungkook sat behind his large glass desk, eyes tired but focused on the report in his hands. His phone buzzed. The caller ID read Father.
He rolled his eyes and picked up. "What now?"
"Stop acting like a child," his father's voice was sharp. "You need to accept your responsibilities. Marry Seoyoon."
"No," Jungkook said immediately, jaw tightening.
"She's from a powerful family. It'll tie up everything neatly."
"I don't care about 'neatly.' I'm not marrying someone I don't love."
His father's voice rose. "You're a Jeon. Start acting like one. I gave you freedom long enough. This is non-negotiable."
Click.
Jungkook stared at his phone, breathing hard. That familiar sense of suffocation clawed at his chest.
He shoved everything off his desk, papers flying.
Moments later, he stormed out of the office, ignoring Hoseok's startled voice asking where he was going. "Out."
He drove off in his matte black Maybach, engine purring like a beast. The city swirled past him but his mind wasn't on the road. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.
But halfway there...
The traffic snarled. Honking erupted all around as cars slowed to a crawl. Jungkook let out a frustrated groan, slumping back against the seat.
Fate, it seemed, was holding him in place.
--
The elevator doors pinged open at the underground parking lot as Jungkook stepped out, keys spinning on his finger. After the unexpected blow-up with his father, he had driven around aimlessly, letting his thoughts settle. It wasn't until his stomach grumbled and he remembered his empty penthouse fridge that he finally changed direction.
Now he strolled toward the mall entrance, dressed down in a suit.
He approached the automatic glass doors, stepping inside just as a black family SUV pulled into the parking lot behind him.
Inside the SUV, Jiminie turned off the engine and turned to the giggling twins. "Alright, little sneaks, we've got two hours. After that, we go home, capiche?"
"Yes, Auntie Minnie!" they chorused with sugary grins.
--
The mall was bustling with weekend shoppers, the sounds of chatter, clinking coffee mugs, and faint music echoing through the tall glass atriums.
They stopped at several places — a toy store where the twins picked up plushies, a bookstore where Taeri made Jiminie read her the blurb of every pink-cover fairytale, and a smoothie shop where Taehyun sipped happily on banana-choco swirl.
But the entire time, they kept glancing around.
Jiminie squatted down in front of them as they paused by the decorative fountain in the center of the mall. "Alright you two, spill. What's up?"
Taeri's lips trembled in a pout. "We wanted to see Bunny Man..."
"Yeah," Taehyun added with slumped shoulders. "He didn't come."
Jiminie's eyes softened. "Oh babies... maybe he'll show up when we least expect it."
And then—Taehyun's eyes widened.
He grabbed his sister's hand tightly. "Taeri... look!"
He pointed through the crowd. A tall figure in suit, heading toward the far side of the second floor near the gourmet market.
"BUNNY MAN!" he shouted.
Before Jiminie could blink, the twins darted off, their tiny feet pounding against the tiled floor.
"TAERI! TAEHYUN!" Jiminie yelled, panic lacing her voice as she took off after them.
"Stop running!" she called behind, voice caught in her throat as she rushed to follow.
But the twins didn't stop.
He was there.
He was real.
And this time, they weren't going to miss him.
--
Jungkook crouched near the glass display at the gourmet section, staring at an array of imported cheeses and wine bottles, completely unaware of the little storm headed his way.
"Bunny Man!"
His heart jumped.
He turned—slowly, unsure if he imagined it.
And then he saw them.
Two tiny figures racing through the crowd, bright eyes wide with excitement, cheeks flushed. Taeri in a red dress, her ribbon bouncing with each step. Taehyun in a little green shirt and black jeans, the image of his younger self.
They reached him, breathless, giggles bubbling from their chests.
"You came back!" Taeri squealed.
"I knew it was you!" Taehyun said proudly, wrapping his small arms around Jungkook's leg.
Jungkook blinked, stunned, completely disarmed. "You two..."
They both threw themselves into his embrace without hesitation. Taeri reached up and tugged at his sleeve gently. "We missed you, Bunny Man."
Jungkook let out a soft laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching upward before forming a full, genuine smile. He crouched fully this time and pulled them both into a warm hug.
"I missed you too," he murmured.
He didn't know why. Didn't understand what it was about them that tugged at the softest parts of him.
But with them, he felt light.
Free.
They sat with him near a bench tucked at the edge of the gourmet section. Taeri placed her plushie on his lap like a gift.
"We named her Bunnina," she said proudly. "Because she's yours."
Jungkook chuckled, completely smitten. "She's beautiful. Just like you."
Taehyun leaned into his side. "Do you have a favorite color?"
Jungkook tilted his head. "Black, maybe?"
"Mine too!" Taehyun beamed. "We're twins!"
Jungkook grinned and ruffled his hair. "Yeah? Then we match."
The moments passed softly, laughter like lullabies echoing in that tiny corner of the world.
Elsewhere in the mall, Jiminie was practically sprinting through every corridor, glancing left and right, bumping into people.
"Taehyun?! Taeri?!"
She didn't dare call Taehyungie—not yet. Her heart thumped loudly, guilt and dread clawing her stomach.
"I swear I only blinked for a second..."
She passed by a security guard and considered asking for help, but something pulled her back. If she alerted too many people, Taehyungie would know.
And panic would swallow everything.
So she kept looking, eyes desperate, hands shaking slightly.
Back at the Bench
"You smell nice," Taeri whispered.
Jungkook laughed, heart thudding with emotion he couldn't name. "Thank you, sweetheart."
"Can you stay with us?" Taehyun asked, hope shining like stars in his gaze. "Just for a little while?"
Jungkook paused, staring at them.
He didn't know who they were.
Didn't know why they felt so familiar.
But he couldn't say no.
"Just for a little while," he said gently, "I'm all yours."
--
Jungkook sat between the twins on the bench, their tiny hands resting in his. The mall's hum buzzed around them, but here—inside this small bubble—it was calm, almost sacred.
"You really smell like cinnamon and clouds," Taeri said, sniffing his sleeve with exaggerated delight. "Mama says people smell like their souls."
Jungkook chuckled. "Then I hope that means I have a good soul."
"You do," Taehyun confirmed seriously. "Even if you're Bunny Man."
Jungkook tilted his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Taehyun shrugged, thoughtful. "Mama says someone made her cry."
Jungkook froze.
"...Really?"
"Only once," Taeri added quickly, "But that was long ago. Mama doesn't cry anymore."
"Yeah," Taehyun nodded. "Now she smiles. Mostly."
Jungkook smiled faintly, but inside, his chest ached with confusion.
Who is their mama?
"Does your mom live here in Seoul?" he asked, gently.
"Nope!" Taeri beamed. "We came from Paris! But we're going back soon."
"oh?" Jungkook says slowly.
Taehyun nodded solemnly. "Mama says it's a safe place."
Taeri leaned closer, whispering like it was a grand secret. "But we wanted to see you again before we go. That's why we asked our auntie!"
Jungkook's throat tightened.
"You did?"
Both twins nodded enthusiastically.
"You're really special, Bunny Man," Taeri said. "I don't know why, but... you are."
He stared at her, breath caught, emotion tangled in his chest.
"Do you... miss me?" he asked softly, unsure why it mattered so much.
"Yes," they chorused without hesitation.
Something in him cracked.
They didn't know. Couldn't know.
But their words felt like a balm, something that soothed a wound he didn't even realize was bleeding.
"You remind me of someone," Jungkook whispered.
Taehyun tilted his head. "Is it someone you loved?"
Jungkook swallowed.
"...Maybe."
Taeri smiled softly and leaned against his arm. "Then maybe it's fate."
Jungkook blinked at her.
A five-year-old talking about fate.
And yet—it didn't feel wrong. Not at all.
Taehyun picked up a little toy car from the bag they had and offered it to Jungkook. "Keep this. So you remember us."
Jungkook stared at the tiny toy. It was purple, a little worn from play. He took it slowly, reverently, like it was gold.
"I won't forget," he whispered.
He meant it.
And for the first time in a long time...
He truly hoped fate would give him another chance.
Suddenly, Taehyun giggled as he pressed his small palm against Jungkook's cheek, leaning in with purpose.
"Mwah!" he planted a wet kiss right on the spot.
Taeri, not to be outdone, leaned over and did the same on Jungkook's other cheek. "Mwah!"
Jungkook blinked, startled. His heart stuttered in his chest, caught between the weight of joy and something startlingly tender. The twins beamed at him like little rays of sunshine.
"Why did you do that?" he asked with a breathy chuckle, stunned but smiling.
Taeri pointed just behind him. "Our Auntie is coming."
Jungkook turned—and there she was, her back weaving through the crowd like a woman on a mission, Jungkook squints to see her face but its only a bit of face profile
"We wanted to say goodbye," Taehyun whispered.
"Before she takes us away," Taeri added,
As they dashed away to meet their aunt, Jungkook watched them go, heart fluttering wildly in his chest. He touched his cheek where they had kissed him and laughed softly to himself.
What are you doing to me, little bunnies?
"YAH!" Jiminie shouted once she reached them, crouching to their level and pulling them both into a firm hug. "Do you know how scared I was?! I turned for one second and—poof—you were gone!"
"Sorry, Aunt Jiminie..." Taeri pouted, peeking up at her from under her lashes.
"We saw a cool game and followed it," Taehyun added, scratching his head sheepishly.
"Next time, you tell me before you go anywhere," she huffed. "Don't ever do that again!"
"Yes, Aunt Jiminie," they chorused.
She let out a shaky breath and pulled them close again. "You two will be the death of me."
Back home, the twins burst through the door like a whirlwind, still buzzing from the day's adventure.
Taehyungie, seated on the couch with a sketchpad in her lap, looked up and smiled. "Hey, my darlings. How was your day?"
"It was fun!" Taeri chirped, kicking off her shoes.
"We saw so many shiny things!" Taehyun added. "And Aunt Jiminie bought us cotton candy."
"Mmm." Taehyungie narrowed her eyes teasingly. "You sound like you had a perfect day."
"It was!" they said in unison, too excited to notice the subtle flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
Taehyungie glanced at Jiminie, who just snorted and waved it off. "They wore me out. Mall hopping is a sport."
"Tell me about it," Taehyungie chuckled, brushing it off, unaware of the small secret her children now carried.
Meanwhile, at his penthouse, Jungkook stepped out of the elevator, his shopping bag in hand and his mind still half at the mall.
He set the bag on the kitchen counter, his thoughts drifting.
He had meant to just get groceries. Nothing special.
But somehow, the highlight of his day had been two little kids and their kisses on his cheeks.
He moved into the living room, dropped onto the couch, and reached for the bunny plushie inside the bag. A flutter in his chest and quickly pulls the toy car from his pocket, he walks to the drawer were a framed photo—an old one of Taehyungie from when they were teens—and a folded ultrasound photo he never had the courage to throw away. He opens it and places the items inside.
It looked right there. Like it belonged.
He exhaled, slowly.
Those kids... who are they really?
He couldn't explain it—but when they touched him, when they smiled at him—his whole chest felt lighter. Fuller.
And for the first time in five years... he felt less alone.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, one hand resting over his heart.
"Bunny Man, huh?" he murmured, a soft smile curling on his lips.
Evening settled gently over the house, casting warm golden shadows through the living room windows. The laughter from dinner had long since faded, replaced now by the soft hum of lullabies playing from a speaker in the hallway.
Taehyungie sat on the edge of the twins' bed, her hand running tenderly through Taeri's silky hair as the little girl giggled softly into her pillow. On the other side of the bed, Taehyun stared up at the ceiling with an uncharacteristic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Her brows furrowed, but her voice was gentle. "You two seem extra happy tonight. Did something good happen?"
Taeri only buried her face in the blankets, muffling a squeaky giggle.
Taehyun gave a little shrug, his cheeks flushed red. "Nothing happened, Mama."
"Yeah," Taeri mumbled. "Just fun with Aunt Jiminie."
Taehyungie tilted her head. "Fun, hmm?"
The smile never left Taehyun's lips. Taeri gave her brother a secretive look, one that didn't go unnoticed by their mother.
Something was off.
But Taehyungie didn't push. She had learned long ago that sometimes with children, silence was the best way to hear the truth.
She tucked them in gently, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads. "Sleep tight, loves."
As she stood and reached to turn off the bedside lamp, she paused, watching them.
Their breathing had already slowed, their bodies snuggled into the sheets like the world was at peace. A little too peaceful, a little too content. Almost... dreamlike.
And that's when it hit her—the way they had smiled all evening, the soft blush in Taehyun's cheeks, the stifled laughter they shared over dessert.
They were hiding something.
But instead of confronting it, Taehyungie simply sighed and stood, her heart softening.
She whispered into the quiet room, "Whatever made you smile like that... I hope it's kind."
She turned off the light and stepped out, leaving the door ajar.
Downstairs, she made herself a cup of tea and sat by the window, moonlight catching the gentle frown on her face. Her mother's instinct buzzed quietly in her chest—not out of fear, but curiosity.
Something had changed in the twins.
Something she didn't yet understand.
But tonight... they had slept like babies. And that, she could be grateful for.
--
Seoyoon stood by her window, sunlight spilling over her pristine white rug like gold-tinted lace. But there was no warmth in her eyes.
She hadn't slept much. Her hair was still in the sleek curls from the day before, but now slightly disheveled. Her silk robe clung to her tense frame as she stared out at the estate gardens with a clenched jaw.
Her mind wasn't in the present. It was spiraling—back to her. The woman who had stolen every ounce of attention in that dining room.
Kim Taehyungie.
The name tasted bitter on her tongue.
She, effortlessly elegant, commanding Jungkook's attention with a mere glance. The way he looked at her... it made Seoyoon's stomach churn. It was love, love so deep and dangerous. A connection she couldn't understand—one that didn't include her.
Her phone buzzed on the glass table.
A message.
[Anonymous Contact]
Background files sent. You were right.
Kim Taehyungie was involved with Jeon Jungkook in the past. There's more.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"So I was right," she muttered. "There is something between them."
She paced the room, eyes wild, pulse erratic. "He denied me, humiliated me... for her?"
Her nails dug into her palm. She wouldn't allow it.
Not again.
She marched over to her dresser, pulling open a drawer and removing a manila folder she kept just to confirm before opening it. Inside were glossy photos—grainy but revealing—of Taehyungie with two children. Twins. The resemblance was uncanny. Especially the boy.
Seoyoon's lips parted, stunned.
Then she laughed.
Soft at first. Then louder. It echoed through the marble-tiled room like a crack in porcelain.
"You're hiding something, Kim Taehyungie," she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. "And when I expose it, he'll never look at you again."
She grabbed her phone, calling her private investigator.
"Dig deeper. I want to know who the father of those children is. I want school records, hospital records, travel history—everything. Use legal channels or not, I don't care. Just find me proof."
She ended the call and tossed her phone onto the bed.
Then, she turned to the mirror and smiled—fake, beautiful, dangerous.
"You may have had his past, darling..."
"...but I'll have his future."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 17: The blood between us
Chapter Text
The Jeon estate basked in a gentle morning hush. Sunlight spilled through the sheer curtains in the sitting room, where the scent of roses from the nearby garden drifted in. Madame Jeon sat gracefully by the window, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, reading an old poetry book.
The sound of approaching footsteps made her look up. Jungkook entered, his expression unreadable but different—softer.
"You're here early," she remarked, setting the book aside.
"Yeah," Jungkook muttered, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Didn't sleep much."
She gestured to the seat beside her. "Come sit. You look like you have something on your chest."
He sat, fidgeting with his fingers. A long pause stretched between them before he finally spoke.
"I... met some kids recently. Twins."
Madame Jeon's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Twins?"
Jungkook nodded slowly, lost in the memory. "They were... beautiful. Full of life. Smart. Innocent. One of them called me Bunny Man." He gave a small chuckle, a touch of warmth in his tone.
His mother's brow rose at the sudden emotion in his voice. "That's... sweet."
He nodded again, gaze unfocused. "They looked at me like I was some kind of hero. And I—I didn't want to walk away. I felt... light. I haven't felt that in years."
Madame Jeon's lips curved into a soft smile. "Children have a way of touching places in our hearts we forget existed."
"I think about them even now," he confessed. "Their laughter. Their eyes. I can't explain it, but they... they left something in me."
His mother studied him thoughtfully, noting the way his shoulders relaxed, the subtle shift in his energy. She hadn't seen him this calm since... long before heartbreak hardened him.
"Maybe they were a gift," she said gently. "A reminder that there's still goodness in the world for you."
Jungkook turned to her. "You think so?"
"I do," she replied softly. "Maybe it's not about who they are, Jungkook. Maybe it's about who you become when you're around them."
That gave him pause.
"I hope I see them again," he murmured, almost to himself.
Madame Jeon reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead with the same care she had when he was a boy.
"Then I hope the world is kind enough to bring them back to you."
And as the sunlight poured across the room, Jungkook sat still—her words wrapping around his heart like a balm he didn't know he needed.
--
Taehyungie had always been observant, especially when it came to her children. It was how she survived. How she protected them in a world that never played fair.
So when Taeri and Taehyun came down for breakfast that morning with secret smiles and whispered giggles, she knew something was off.
They were too happy. Not the innocent kind, but the "we're hiding something from Mama" kind.
Throughout the morning, they hummed to themselves, giggling randomly. Taeri even spun around like a ballerina in the hallway, and Taehyun kept glancing at his sister before bursting into laughter.
Taehyungie raised an eyebrow. Jinnie and Jiminie chuckled at the kids' antics, but Taehyungie could feel it—like a sixth sense. Something had happened.
"You two really enjoyed your little mall trip yesterday huh?" she asked gently as she combed through Taeri's hair.
"Yes, Mama!" Taeri chirped.
"It was fun!" Taehyun added. "A lot of fun!"
Their eyes darted between each other.
Taehyungie narrowed hers.
"Mhm. Just fun, huh?"
The twins nodded in unison, a little too quickly.
Jiminie walked in at that moment and nearly tripped at the sight of Taehyung's suspicious expression. She coughed and turned away.
"Kids had a blast," she offered vaguely.
Taehyungie gave her a long look before turning back to the twins.
The night, she tucked them into bed, they didn't stall like they usually did. Didn't whine for stories or extra kisses.
They were content. Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
She would find out.
And when she did, she wasn't sure what scared her more—what they were hiding, or what it could mean for her carefully protected world.
--
The walls of Choi Seoyoon's room were littered with torn papers, cracked perfume bottles, and broken vases—the remnants of her fury. Her fingers trembled as she clutched her phone, her nails digging into the leather of the case. Her lips trembled, eyes wide as the message replayed over and over in her head.
"Confirmed: Jeon Jungkook is the father of the twins. The woman, Kim Taehyungie, left Seoul pregnant."
"No..." she whispered breathlessly.
Then she screamed.
A loud, guttural shriek tore through the mansion, startling the maids and making the glass chandelier above her sway. Her screams echoed as she fell to her knees, breath ragged, eyes glazed in fury. She punched the floor, not caring about the sting, not caring about the blood that followed.
"How—how did this happen?!" she growled. "All this time—Taehyungie played the cold queen and he was desperate to talk to her, but he didn't even know?!"
She rose slowly, her head spinning. The humiliation burned her from the inside. She had thought Taehyungie was smug because Jungkook was still in love with her. But this—this was worse.
It was pity. Taehyungie pitied her. She knew something Seoyoon didn't—and she kept it locked like a dagger between her ribs.
Seoyoon's phone buzzed again. A message. Anonymous. Just how she liked it.
She opened the image, and her breath hitched.
Two children in a park in Paris. The little girl wore pigtails and a beret, the little boy a blue coat and tiny black boots. They were smiling, chasing bubbles, their eyes twinkling with joy and innocence.
And they looked like Jungkook.
Painfully so.
"His eyes," she hissed. "His smile. His blood."
Her fingers curled around the phone, veins in her neck tightening.
She couldn't let them exist. Not when they looked like that. Not when they could take everything from her.
Not when they already had.
She texted her anonymous messenger one more time.
"Follow the kids. Report every move. The moment you get a clean shot... take it."
Then she sat back in her chair, a slow, sinister smirk forming on her lips.
"Let's see how long your fairy tale lasts, Kim Taehyungie."
--
2 days later...
The sky above Seoul stretched wide and blue, but Taehyungie's chest felt tight.
The twins had been unusually clingy that afternoon, their little arms wrapped around her waist, their eyes peeking up at her with an affection so pure, it almost masked the slight tension she couldn't place. It started earlier in the day—Taeri had kept glancing behind her shoulder while Taehyun stuck to her side like glue.
They were safe. She reminded herself they were safe.
But why did her instincts say otherwise?
After dinner, the house settled into a peaceful rhythm. Jiminie had taken a call outside, Jinnie was sorting laundry, and Namjoon and Yoongi were on the patio discussing something about who will fly to Japan for a meeting. Taehyungie, meanwhile, stood quietly by the twins' bedroom door, watching them play with their stuffed toys.
"Mama, should Taeri sleep next to Taehyun tonight?" Taeri asked, her new bunny plushie clutched in one hand. When her mother asked she said she lost it in the mall.
"Yes, my love. You can sleep close. Is something bothering you?" Taehyungie asked gently, kneeling beside the bed.
Taehyun looked away, biting his bottom lip.
"No..." he muttered.
But it wasn't convincing. Not to her.
She brushed his hair away from his forehead and leaned in to kiss it. "You know you can always tell Mama anything, right?"
Taehyun looked at his sister. Taeri gave the tiniest nod.
"...Mama, if bad people want to hurt us, would you fight them?" he asked quietly.
Her heart dropped.
The calm in her face didn't falter, but her fingers clenched around the bedsheets.
She smiled gently and nodded. "Of course. I would burn the whole world if anyone tried to hurt you."
Taeri blinked up at her with those big doe eyes. "Even if they have a gun?"
Taehyungie's blood went cold.
"Where did you hear that?" Her voice was still soft, but steely beneath.
"I don't know..." Taeri whispered, her hand suddenly trembling around her toy. "I think someone said it near the car outside the gate when me and Hyun were playing. I didn't see them... but I heard."
Taehyungie felt everything inside her go still.
She hugged them tightly. Too tightly.
"I won't let anything happen to you," she murmured into their hair. "I promise."
Later, after the twins had fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms, she stood by the window of their room for a long time, looking out into the shadows.
She didn't know who. She didn't know why.
But someone had found them. Someone was watching.
Her fingers reached for her phone. She texted Jiminie.
"Let's not take the kids back to Paris tomorrow. Something feels... wrong."
She stared at the stars above.
If it was war they wanted, she'd give it to them.
But first, she needed to protect her children.
--
Jungkook stirred restlessly beneath the silk sheets of his penthouse. The city lights bled through the curtain edges, but they offered no comfort. He was sweating again—his chest rising and falling too fast, his skin clammy despite the chill in the air conditioning.
He sat up, breathing heavily.
The dream was the same.
Two small figures, blurred but familiar. Giggles fading into silence. A sudden scream. The deafening crack of a gunshot—and then blood. So much blood.
He blinked and clutched his chest.
"Taeri... Taehyun..." he whispered without realizing.
He'd never said their names aloud before—not even to himself. He didn't know why the dreams felt so real. Why he kept seeing those two children he'd only recently met in such terrifying situations.
The last time he dreamt of them, he'd gone to check the plush bunny and toy car he placed on the shelf beside Taehyungie's ultrasound and photo from years ago. He didn't understand why it all fit together.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from his mother.
"Are you okay, Jungkook? I woke up thinking about you."
He hesitated.
Then typed:
"I keep having nightmares about two kids, eomma. The same ones I told you about."
Her reply came quick.
"Sometimes the soul knows before the mind does. Maybe these children are meant to bring something back into your life—something you lost."
His grip on the phone tightened.
The thought terrified him.
But also... warmed him.
Still, something wasn't right.
Something in the air, in his gut—it told him danger was near.
He reached for his car keys and checked the time.
3:41 AM.
He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stay still. Not tonight.
Across town, the household was quiet—except for the soft laughter from Jiminie's room as she scrolled through videos, earbuds in. Jinnie was closing the curtain in the living room when she paused.
A black car. Parked just across the street.
She squinted.
It had been there since the morning... and again the day before that.
Her fingers stilled on the fabric.
She slowly pulled her phone and took a photo—just in case.
Back in the room, Taehyungie was seated beside the twins' bed again, watching the gentle rise and fall of their chests. Their conversation played again and again in her mind like a broken lullaby.
She turned at the sound of a soft knock.
It was Jiminie.
"Tae..." Jiminie's brows were knit tight. "Can we talk?"
They stepped out quietly into the hallway.
"What's wrong?" Taehyungie asked, heart already beating faster.
"I... might be paranoid, but... Jinnie said there's a car that's been parked down the street since yesterday. Same one. Tinted windows. Never moves."
Taehyungie's face paled slightly.
"And earlier, Taeri said she heard someone say something about guns... near the car."
That sealed it.
Taehyungie didn't panic. She didn't scream.
But her hands clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
"I need to see that car."
"I already took a picture," Jinnie said, entering with her phone.
Taehyungie stared at it.
No plates. Tinted so dark it was like staring into an abyss.
"I'm calling Claire," she muttered.
They didn't argue.
Something was happening—and whoever was behind it... she would die before she let that happen.
--
In the heart of Paris, Claire Laurent stood before the tall windows of her mansion, a steaming espresso cradled in her palm. Outside, the early morning fog hung over the Seine like a sleeping ghost.
The phone on her marble kitchen counter buzzed once—then again, and again.
Her hand, always graceful and precise, reached for it with a flick of her wrist.
"Threat detected – Surveillance photo received."
Claire's expression didn't change. But her back straightened ever so slightly. She opened the attached file.
A grainy image of a black car. Tinted windows. Parked across a familiar Seoul street.
Below it, a note from her discreet contact in the Korean intelligence circuit.
"Protectives unaware. Recommendation: Dispatch."
Claire didn't need to read it twice.
She knew.
She had seen it coming the day Taehyungie told her she was returning to Seoul. The way her voice trembled beneath her calm. The way the name Seoul had left her mouth with bitterness and pain.
Claire didn't ask how or why. But she had always known this day would come.
Without hesitation, she moved to her private study, unlocked a small safe behind an abstract painting, and pulled out a sleek black phone with no identifiable markers.
She dialed a single number.
It rang once.
Then a voice answered.
"Laurent."
"Activate Protocol V." Claire's voice was low. Sharp. Final. "Dispatch your Seoul agent to tail my family. No confrontation, not yet. I want daily updates. If anything happens to those any of them... you burn the city down."
"Yes, Madame Laurent."
She hung up.
Only then did she allow herself a pause.
She walked to her desk, sat in her leather chair, and pulled a picture from her drawer.
It was old—faded on the edges.
A pregnant Taehyungie, bright-eyed and laughing even though she looked exhausted and in quiet pain, with arms thrown around Claire's waist.
"You're not alone, mon trésor," Claire whispered. "Not now, not ever."
She sipped her coffee slowly, eyes sharp as blades.
Let them try.
Let them come.
Because Paris had raised a queen... and queens protect their blood.
--
The warm sun filtered gently through the skies, but the calm was deceptive.
Inside the estate, Taehyungie sat on her bed, passport in hand. It was time to go. Her heart felt heavy... the kind of heaviness she couldn't explain. It was the fourth time she tried to rebook their flight, but something—something—always went wrong.
"Mama, we're going to our room," Taeri had said moments ago with her brother by her side.
Taehyungie smiled. "Okay. Be good."
But she felt it again. That unsettling ripple under her skin.
Outside, the twins weren't in their room. They were giggling in the garden, chasing a red ball that had slipped past the gate lines. Just beyond the gate, a black car idled, silent and still. A man inside adjusted his scope, watching.
Waiting.
Taeri bent to pick up the ball.
His finger moved to the trigger.
Inside, Taehyungie jolted up violently.
Her heart clenched. Her soul screamed.
Her legs moved before her mind could catch up. She threw open doors, searched rooms in panic, her voice trembling into the halls.
"Taeri?! Taehyun?!"
No answer.
She burst into the playroom. Empty.
"No. No. No." her voice cracked.
"Namjoon! Jiminie! Jinnie! The kids—have you seen them?!"
"They went to the—didn't they say—" Jinnie started, but Taehyungie was already running barefoot down the corridor, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Then—
She saw them.
Outside the gates.
Tiny figures in the sunlight. Taeri bent low, laughing, her dress glowing pink.
Her lungs refused air.
"TAERI!! TAEHYUN!!"
Her voice exploded into a scream that carried through the estate like thunder.
Taehyun looked up, alarmed. "Mama?"
"GET BACK! INSIDE! NOW!!" Taehyun flinched and screamed "Noona! Come on"
And that's when she saw it.
The glint of metal from the car.
The gun.
A scream tore from her lungs as she sprinted, throat hoarse, "TAERI! RUN—RUN TO MAMA!"
But—
BANG.
The sound rang out like an explosion.
Time stopped.
Taehyungie's vision blurred as she screamed louder than she ever had in her life, legs burning as she sprinted toward her baby.
"NO—NO!!!"
Taeri collapsed.
Her little body crumpled like a paper doll, pink dress blossoming with red.
"TAERI!!!"
Taehyun's eyes widened as he flinched, turning to run into the compound. Taehyungie reached the gates just as Taeri collapsed the ground.
She dropped to her knees with a guttural scream, dragging her daughter into her arms. Her face twisted into something inhuman—raw, wild, feral.
"NO! NO, MY BABY! NO! PLEASE, STAY WITH ME!" she shrieked, clutching her daughter's limp body. "TAERI!! OPEN YOUR EYES!!"
Tears poured down her face like a flood. Her whole body trembled violently. She pressed her hand on the bleeding wound, trying to stop the blood, shaking her head over and over.
"Wake up, wake up—baby, please, don't do this to me—please—!"
"HELP!!" she screamed into the estate. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!!"
The car screeched away down the hill, vanishing into the city.
Jiminie ran to the gate. Jinnie stood frozen in horror. Namjoon pushed past them and dashed toward Taehyungie.
"CALL AN AMBULANCE!" he roared.
Jinnie fumbled her phone, sobbing. "Oh my God—oh my God—"
Taehyun was on the ground, staring with wide eyes. "Noona... noona..."
Taehyungie held her child tighter, blood covering her hands, her dress, her arms—her entire being.
"Stay with Mama, Taeri, please—please, I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—just breathe baby—please don't leave me—don't leave me —"
Her screams shattered the air, echoing through the grounds.
This was no longer just fear.
It was war. Her baby had been shot. And someone would pay.
--
In the towering Jeon Enterprises building, Jungkook sat in his office, staring blankly at the open file in front of him. But he wasn't reading it.
He couldn't.
Something gnawed at his chest—a tightness that refused to ease. He'd been distracted all morning. Ever since waking up, there was a strange pressure behind his ribs, like something was wrong but he couldn't tell what.
He rubbed his chest and frowned, glancing out the window at the skyline. His fingers tapped restlessly on the desk.
Hoseok had walked in twice already and both times, Jungkook had barely acknowledged him.
He wasn't himself.
He felt like his soul was pacing—searching—for something.
--
Across the city, in the cold, bright corridors of the emergency ward, the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and dread.
Taehyungie sat on the metal bench, drenched in her daughter's blood. Her dress was stained deep red. Her arms were shaking. Her eyes vacant.
Ten hours.
Ten long, excruciating hours since they had taken her little girl into surgery.
She hadn't moved.
She couldn't.
Her brain refused to let her walk away from the hallway in case she missed the doctor. But her heart—her heart was collapsing in slow motion.
Every second dragged her deeper into the abyss.
Memories flared in the stillness like cruel ghosts.
The first time she held Taeri in her arms—tiny, warm, with a full head of dark hair and those big, expressive eyes.
Her baby's first words—"Mama."
Her first steps, her first giggle.
The way she always hugged her tightly before bed.
The way she loved pink and twirled in dresses.
Tears streamed silently down Taehyungie's face. She hugged herself, shaking, whispering broken prayers to any god that would listen.
Jinnie had taken Taehyun home. He'd fallen asleep crying in her arms.
Taehyungie sat alone now, staring at the sterile doors.
Then, they opened.
A tired doctor stepped out, his gloves stained, eyes grave.
"Miss Kim," he said gently. "Your daughter made it through the surgery... but she's very weak. She's lost too much blood. We need a transfusion—urgently."
"I'm here," Taehyungie stood instantly. "Take mine. Please—take all of it—"
He looked apologetic. "We already tested you... her blood type is O-negative. You're AB. It's not compatible."
Taehyungie blinked.
"What...?"
"We're searching for an emergency donor," the doctor said quickly. "But O-negative is rare."
Taehyungie's heart stopped.
O-negative?
The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
That's not from me. That's... from Jungkook.
Her knees almost gave out.
The memories—
His medical forms. His chart from years ago—he was O-negative.
She remembered once laughing, saying it made him special.
And now... so was her daughter.
She covered her mouth in horror.
Her daughter was going to die.
Unless she brought the one man who could save her.
Her father.
Taehyungie turned and bolted. Her legs pumped like thunder against the hospital floors. She didn't wait for anyone. Didn't think.
She tore through the parking lot, jumped into her car, and floored the gas pedal.
Her hands were trembling on the steering wheel, her lips whispering over and over—
"Please don't let me be too late. Please don't let him refuse. Please..."
She could still smell Taeri's blood on her hands.
It wasn't just guilt that drove her now.
It was desperation. Fear. A mother's primal scream.
Within twenty minutes, she skidded into the Jeon Enterprise parking lot. Security barely caught a glimpse of her before she burst through the front doors, hair wild, face pale as chalk.
Everyone turned as she sprinted into the elevator, punching the button for the top floor.
The second the elevator opened, she stormed past confused assistants.
"Ma'am—wait! You can't—!"
But she didn't stop.
She threw open Jungkook's office door, heart hammering so loud she thought it might burst.
Jungkook stood from his chair, startled. His eyes widened when he saw her—disheveled, bloodstained, and breathless.
"Taehyungie...?"
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Her voice cracked as she gasped,
"She's dying, Jungkook. Your daughter is dying. And only you can save her."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 18: Shattered glass, shattered heart
Notes:
Double updates today!🥰
Chapter Text
Jungkook stood frozen in his office, brows furrowed deeply. His body remained perfectly still as he tried to process what Taehyungie had just said.
"She's dying... Your daughter is dying..."
His lips parted slowly, breath catching.
"D-daughter?" he asked hesitantly, confusion thick in his voice. "Taehyungie, what are you talking about?"
But Taehyungie didn't answer. Her tear-stricken face tightened with desperation as she took several trembling steps forward.
"There's no time—please, Jungkook—please, just come with me or she'll die."
Her voice cracked. Raw. Pleading. And that was all it took.
Without a second thought, Jungkook snatched his jacket from the back of his chair and rushed after her, barking a stunned "Cancel my meetings!" to a secretary as the elevator doors closed behind them.
They said nothing on the way.
Taehyungie gripped the wheel with white knuckles, weaving through traffic like a woman possessed, and Jungkook sat beside her, heart pounding in confusion and adrenaline. The only thing echoing in his mind was "your daughter... dying."
His daughter?
He turned to her a few times to speak—but stopped.
She was shaking. Jaw clenched, tears leaking silently as she ran every red light between them and the hospital. There was no room for questions. Not yet.
Within minutes, they pulled up at the emergency entrance.
Taehyungie jumped out before the car had even fully stopped.
"Stay with me," she gasped, sprinting ahead.
Jungkook followed wordlessly, heart slamming against his ribs.
Inside the hospital, Taehyungie burst through the ER hall and found the surgeon. "The donor is here! O-negative! Please—check him now!"
The doctor blinked in surprise but didn't waste time. "This way," he instructed. Jungkook blinked rapidly as he was pulled into a side room, medical staff surrounding him.
He was still too stunned to speak. But he let them poke, test, draw blood.
"O-negative confirmed," one nurse announced. "We're prepping for the transfusion now."
Jungkook looked up sharply, finally finding his voice.
"Who... whose blood is this for?" he asked.
The nurse paused. "A young girl. Taeri Kim. Age five."
Taeri...
Jungkook's breath caught.
His body went cold.
He remembered those eyes. That soft voice. The gentle way she called him Bunny Man.
No...
He looked through the window at the hallway, where Taehyungie stood—her arms crossed tightly, head bowed low, shoulders trembling.
His head spun.
The nurse tugged gently at his sleeve. "Mr. Jeon, please lie down. We'll begin now."
Jungkook didn't resist. As he lay back and watched the tube carry his blood away, his mind raced, piecing every moment together. Her smile. Her face. Her brother.
Twins.
They had to be.
And if Taeri was his—
He clenched his jaw. His chest tightened, his heart threatening to split.
Outside, Taehyungie paced restlessly in the corridor. Her legs could barely hold her up. She pressed her hands against the wall, her breath hitching with silent sobs.
She didn't notice the nurses coming and going. Didn't care about the looks of pity or concern. All she could think about was her daughter's tiny body under that blinding surgical light.
If Jungkook hadn't agreed...
If he hadn't come...
If she had waited a minute longer—
She would've lost her.
Taehyungie's knees buckled, and she sat down slowly, burying her face in her hands. Trembling. Aching.
Jungkook stepped out a little while later, pale but stable. He saw her on the floor, and his lips parted—but he didn't say anything.
Not yet.
She looked up, her eyes rimmed with red, the heavy curtain of guilt and fear still clinging to her skin. He wanted to ask—demand—an explanation. But the words never made it past his lips.
Because now wasn't the time for anger.
It was the time to pray.
For a little girl who loved pink.
For a bunny plushie.
For a daughter he never knew he had.
And the truth... was just beginning to unravel.
--
The hallway was silent, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights above and the echo of distant footsteps. Taehyungie sat curled in the stiff waiting chair, arms wrapped around herself, her body stiff as stone. The weight of fear pressed on her chest like a crushing boulder.
She didn't even notice Jungkook approach.
But he saw her—broken, trembling, small. The woman he once knew, fierce and proud, was now a mother devastated by the threat of loss.
He paused a step away, unsure... until his hand reached forward, hesitantly brushing against her arm.
"Tae..."
She jolted slightly at his voice—but then something inside her shattered.
Before Jungkook could speak further, she lunged into his arms. Her body folded into his chest like a wave crashing against the shore. She clung to him with desperate fists, her sobs finally spilling from her like thunderous rain after a long drought.
"I was so scared," she cried, her voice breaking with every syllable. "I thought I was going to lose her... my baby..."
Jungkook's arms froze for a moment—but then they wrapped tightly around her.
Even though he didn't fully understand, even though fear still twisted his gut, he held her like she was something precious, because she was. His hand rested at the back of her head, the other gently rubbing her back.
"I'm here," he whispered, even when his own voice trembled. "She's going to be okay. She has to be."
They stayed like that—for minutes that felt like lifetimes. The world around them blurred. They weren't CEO and fashion icon. They weren't past lovers. They were just two frightened parents clinging to each other, holding onto hope.
Three long hours later, the doctor returned.
"She's awake," he said softly, "She's stable. You can see her now, one at a time or together."
Taehyungie didn't wait.
She and Jungkook rushed toward the ICU room, hearts pounding. As they stepped inside, the sterile brightness welcomed them—but nothing mattered when Taehyungie saw the small figure lying on the bed.
"Taeri..." she breathed.
The little girl's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her mother's voice, and her lips quivered into a weak smile.
"mommy..." she whispered.
Taehyungie collapsed at her bedside, tears flowing again, harder this time but not from fear—from relief. She gently cupped her daughter's face, pressing kisses to her forehead, brushing away the dried blood around her temple.
"Oh baby, my precious girl... I'm here. I'm here, okay? mommy's here."
Taeri blinked slowly, her fingers curling around her mother's hand. Her gaze drifted slightly—to the tall man standing by the door, stiff, uncertain.
She smiled faintly.
"Bunny Man..." she giggled, voice barely a whisper.
Jungkook's breath caught.
Taehyungie didn't react, she didn't hear— too consumed by her daughter's safety. But Jungkook's knees nearly buckled.
Bunny Man.
All those times the kids had called him that. All those coincidences. All the puzzle pieces...
The truth hit him like a tidal wave.
Tears welled in his eyes and spilled freely down his cheeks. His throat tightened painfully as he took a shaky step forward.
She was his all along.
Jungkook stood beside Taehyungie now, eyes on the tiny, brave little girl who had come so close to being lost forever—before he even got the chance to say hello.
Taeri's small fingers reached toward him, and he bent down, gently wrapping his hand around hers.
Taehyungie looked up then, eyes glassy, watching the two of them. Her breath caught in her throat.
What she always wanted to hide from has been revealed. Painfully so.
--
The door opened quietly after 30 minutes as the doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand.
"She's stable now," he said with a reassuring smile. "But she needs plenty of rest. Just a few minutes and we'll need to monitor her again."
Taehyungie gave her daughter's hand one last gentle squeeze and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Jungkook did the same, though he lingered a second longer, reluctant to let go.
When they stepped outside, the hallway felt colder. Harsher.
Taehyungie exhaled shakily and turned to Jungkook. "Thank you... for donating. For saving her."
Jungkook opened his mouth, but she didn't let him speak.
"And now... I think you should go."
He blinked. "What?"
She looked away, hugging her arms to herself. "You found out because of her health. That's it. There's nothing more to talk about."
Jungkook's jaw clenched. "You're serious?" He took a step closer. "I just found out I have a daughter, and now you're sending me away like it means nothing?"
Taehyungie's expression tightened. "You weren't supposed to find out, Jungkook."
His hands balled into fists. "What happened? Why was she out alone—why was she shot? What happened to your security? How did this—"
"There's nothing I can't handle," she snapped sharply, stepping back as her voice cut through the hallway like a blade.
But Jungkook wasn't backing down. Not this time. "You're not the only one who gets to handle this," he said, chest rising. "She's my daughter too."
Taehyungie's lips trembled at that—but the hurt that flashed in her eyes next was like fire.
"Oh? Now she's your daughter?" Her voice lowered dangerously. "You mean the same daughter you told me to abort? The child you said you wanted nothing to do with?"
The words landed like a blow. Jungkook froze, his face going pale. The hallway fell deathly quiet.
His lips parted, but no sound came out. His hands dropped to his sides.
"That day," she said bitterly, her voice cracking, "when I told you I was pregnant... You didn't hesitate, Jungkook. You just said it: Get rid of it. You walked away from me. From her. From both of us."
Jungkook looked shattered. "I... I was scared. I was nineteen—"
"And I was seventeen!" she cried, tears spilling freely now. "I was alone! And I still chose to keep it. I chose to love it. Even when it hurt. Even when I didn't know how I'd survive. You don't get to come back now just because fate threw you into a hospital hallway."
Jungkook took a shaky breath. "Taehyungie, please... I didn't know. I didn't know, and if I had—"
"But you did know once," she said quietly. "And you threw me away, all because of a stupid dare!"
He flinched and looked at her then—not as the Taehyungie he remembered, not the Taehyungie that cried and cursed at him for destroying her but the mother who had borne pain in silence, who had raised their child alone, who had cried and fought and still stood strong.
"I'm not asking for everything," he whispered finally. "But I want to be in her life. I want to be in their life. Let me make it right."
Taehyungie didn't speak.
She turned away, and Jungkook felt a new kind of ache settle into his bones.
Because this time... her silence said more than words ever could.
--
The hospital was quieter than yesterday, but the tension still clung to the air like a thick mist. Namjoon and Jiminie walked through the sterile hallway, holding back both worry and protective fury.
Jiminie clutched the warm lunchbox she'd lovingly packed that morning, her heart aching for the tiny girl who'd nearly slipped through their fingers. Namjoon, on the other hand, was stiff with tension, his protective instincts flaring stronger than ever.
As they turned the corner toward Taeri's room, Namjoon's eyes landed on a familiar figure standing just outside the door.
Jungkook.
His entire body coiled as if ready to pounce, but Taehyungie, who was already standing beside the door, raised a hand.
"I'll explain later," she said softly, her voice tired but sincere.
Namjoon gritted his teeth, but he nodded, trusting her. For now.
A nurse stepped out of the room with a little smile. "Miss Taeri is awake—and she says she's hungry."
Taehyungie let out a shaky laugh, relief coloring her features as she turned to Jiminie. "Thank you," she said, taking the lunchbox.
Jungkook moved to follow, but Namjoon raised an eyebrow in challenge.
"She's my daughter," Jungkook said firmly, "and I'll do whatever I have to for her."
He didn't wait for permission this time. He simply followed Taehyungie inside.
Little Taeri sat upright in the hospital bed, a soft blanket tucked around her, her cheeks still a bit pale but glowing with childlike delight. The moment her eyes landed on Jungkook, they lit up.
"Bunny man!" she giggled, reaching out her hand toward him. "Sit beside me!"
Jiminie and Namjoon entered behind them, but both froze at what they were witnessing.
The way Taeri looked at Jungkook—with adoration, trust, and absolute glee.
The soft, instinctive way Jungkook moved toward her, taking her small hand in his as he sat down.
Taehyungie opened the lunchbox and began setting up the food on the tray, but before she could lift a spoon, Taeri chimed in again.
"I want bunny man to feed me," she said sweetly, resting her head on Jungkook's arm.
Taehyungie froze.
So did Jiminie.
And Namjoon.
The pieces fell into place like dominoes.
The nickname... the connection... the familiarity...
Jungkook was Bunny Man.
The man from Paris. The one the twins always giggled about. The one they missed.
Taehyungie's heart skipped a beat. That means he knows about hyunie-- a shaky breath leaves her. The truth is out and Taehyungie's fears have arrived.
Eyes slowly turned toward him, but Jungkook hadn't yet realized it. He was focused on his daughter—his daughter—carefully holding the spoon and gently blowing on the warm rice before feeding it to her.
"You like it?" he asked softly.
Taeri nodded eagerly, chewing and smiling with stuffed cheeks.
Then, between bites, she looked up at him with big, sparkling eyes. "Bunny man, do you think mama is pretty?"
Taehyungie choked on her own breath, coughing and nearly dropping the chopsticks. Jiminie's jaw dropped. Namjoon blinked.
Jungkook's lips parted in disbelief.
Taeri giggled again, nudging him with her shoulder. "Because I think she's the prettiest in the whole world!"
Taehyungie, red-faced and flustered, muttered, "T-Taeri, eat your food."
But Jungkook couldn't respond—his throat was tight, his eyes glassy. He fed her another bite, his heart swelling until it nearly burst.
It was surreal. Beautiful. Painful.
This little girl—this piece of him—was right here.
And she knew him better than he even knew himself.
Later that day, as Taeri rests, Taehyungie stood by the hospital window, arms wrapped around herself as the city lights glowed beneath the darkening sky. Her face was pale, stained with dried tears, but her voice, when she finally spoke, was steady.
"I didn't know something was wrong at first," she murmured, not looking at him. "She said they were going to their room. I thought nothing of it. But then I felt it... like a switch flipped in me. A mother's instinct."
Jungkook stood near the door, his back pressed against the wall, fists clenched, jaw tight.
"I searched the entire house," she continued, "but they weren't there. I ran outside, screaming, and found them—outside the gate." Them , because Jungkook knows anyway
She finally turned to him, her eyes glassy but sharp.
"There was a black car parked just beyond the fence," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I... I didn't think. I just ran. I saw—Taehyun—yelling for his sister to hurry. And Taeri..."
Her lips trembled. "She was bending to pick up a ball. That's when I saw it. The gun."
Jungkook's stomach twisted violently.
"I screamed her name," Taehyungie whispered. "But the bang came faster than I could run. And then she fell. My baby—my little girl—just dropped to the ground like a rag doll."
She inhaled sharply, as if the memory itself was squeezing the breath out of her. Jungkook stepped forward instinctively, but she raised a hand to keep him in place.
"I called for backup security from Paris," she continued. "But they were too late. The car escaped."
Jungkook's hands were shaking now.
Taehyungie reached into her coat and took out her phone. She tapped the screen, then turned it to show him. "The CCTV didn't get a clear shot of the license plate. But Jinnie took a pic of the car when they got suspicious."
The image showed a sleek black sedan parked, its tinted windows glinting under the afternoon sun.
Jungkook stared at it, his jaw tightening until the muscle ticked dangerously.
"They came for my daughter," he said lowly, his voice laced with rage. "This wasn't a random act. This was planned."
Taehyungie looked at him with tired eyes. "I know."
He turned from her, running both hands through his hair, pacing. His entire body buzzed with fury, his mind racing. Who could do this!?
Jungkook turned back to Taehyungie, his expression dark. "I'll handle this," he said, voice low and deadly calm. "Whoever did this... whoever dared to put a gun to my daughter's head—will regret it."
Taehyungie didn't argue.
Because for once... she wanted to believe him.
And deep down, a part of her hoped he meant every single word.
--
The grand chandelier above the Choi estate's drawing room glimmered with cold elegance, but the room itself felt suffocating with tension. Seoyoon's heels clicked sharply on the marble floor as she approached her private quarters, slamming the door behind her with such force that the glass vase near the dresser trembled.
Her eyes were wild—burning with disbelief and rage.
They survived.
The girl survived.
She'd received the message hours ago—one of the twins had been shot, but the girl had lived. And now, she'd just learned something even worse.
Jungkook had given blood.
Jungkook had been there.
Jungkook knows now.
Her breath hitched with manic fury.
"He knows," she whispered to herself, gripping the edge of her vanity so hard her knuckles turned white. "He was there. He saw the child."
Her reflection stared back at her—angry, distorted, undone.
A beat of silence.
And then... she laughed.
A cold, chilling sound that echoed through her empty room.
"No one suspects me," she whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "No one ever will."
Her lips curled into a smirk as she walked toward the ornate chest near her wardrobe. From within, she pulled out the folder her anonymous informant had sent her—the one with surveillance pictures from Paris, snapshots of the twins playing in Claire's backyard, candid street images, one even of Taehyungie entering a fashion house.
She trailed her fingers down the photo of Taeri. A pause.
"I should have aimed for the heart," she murmured.
Her phone buzzed again, a message from the same untraceable number.
"We failed. She was saved. There was a donor."
Seoyoon stared at it for a moment before typing back coldly.
"Follow the boy now. No mistakes this time."
She tossed her phone onto the bed and sat down slowly, her silk robe rustling beneath her.
If Jungkook found out everything—really found out—there would be no turning back.
But if she eliminated the children first...
He'd never know. He'd never have proof.
And Taehyungie?
Taehyungie would shatter.
With a final smirk, Seoyoon leaned back against the pillows, humming to herself.
"He was always going to be mine."
--
The house was quiet, unnervingly so. Jinnie stood in the kitchen, halfheartedly rinsing dishes when a soft sob echoed down the hallway. She paused, listening.
It came again. A choked sniffle—heart-wrenching.
She wiped her hands quickly and walked down the corridor to the room where Taehyun had been resting. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, she saw him curled up on the bed, clutching his small plush toy with tear-stained cheeks.
"Hyun-ie?" she whispered gently, stepping inside.
He looked up, eyes red and watery. "Aunt Jinnie... I wanna go see noona..."
Jinnie's heart cracked. She knelt beside the bed and stroked his hair gently. "Noona is okay, my love. She's just sleeping at the hospital so she can feel better."
"I wanna see her..." he whimpered. "What if she misses me? What if she thinks I left her?"
Jinnie sighed deeply, glancing at the small overnight bag she'd packed just in case. Every part of her wanted to scoop him up and take him to see his sister—but Taehyungie had given a strict order not to bring Taehyun to the hospital. She knew her friend's nerves were hanging by a thread, and any more worry could push her over the edge.
Still... it was hard to resist that trembling little voice.
"Okay," she murmured. "Let me just get my keys—"
Her phone buzzed.
Taehyungie.
Jinnie froze.
She picked up the call, slowly bringing the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Jinnie," Taehyungie's voice came sharp and firm, edged with exhaustion. "Don't take Hyun to the hospital."
Jinnie swallowed. "He's crying for her, Tae. He's worried—"
"I know," Taehyungie breathed heavily on the other end. "But I need to keep him safe. Please, just... stay there. I'll talk to him."
There was a moment of silence before Taehyungie added, voice softer this time, "Just tell him noona's doing well and that she loves him. Can you do that for me?"
Jinnie nodded, even though Taehyungie couldn't see her. "I will."
She ended the call and turned back to Taehyun, who was now looking up at her with pleading eyes.
"Auntie?" he sniffled.
Jinnie crawled onto the bed beside him and pulled him into her lap. "Noona's getting better, sweetheart. She's strong, just like you."
Taehyun nodded slowly, resting his head against her chest.
"She told me to tell you something," Jinnie whispered. "She said she loves you. Very, very much. And that her brave little boy should stay home and take care of Aunt Jinnie until she comes back."
A faint smile tugged at Taehyun's lips. "She really said that?"
Jinnie kissed his forehead. "She did."
The little boy wiped his nose with his sleeve and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Jinnie held him close, heart aching with love and fear—for both of them.
Outside, unknown to them, a black car idled not far from the house.
But for now, they were safe.
--
"Hyung," a voice picked up almost instantly—Eunwoo, his most trusted man.
"Find out who the hell did this," Jungkook said, voice low, strained. "I want names. License plates. Everything."
Eunwoo's tone instantly shifted. "What happened?"
"My daughter," Jungkook whispered, pain laced with fury. "She was shot. A child, Eunwoo. My child."
There was silence on the other end before Eunwoo replied, voice hardening. "Say no more. I'll activate the team. We'll comb everything—hospital footage, nearby cameras, traffic routes."
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. His jaw clenched, eyes burning red. "Don't rest. Not until you find them."
"I swear on my life."
The call ended.
Jungkook remained in the hallway, staring at the sterile wall, trying to calm the storm inside him. But it was no use. He clenched his fists, the veins in his arms tightening with rage.
He thought of Taeri's small body falling to the ground... of Taehyungie's cry... of the blood on her little dress.
"I don't care who you are," he muttered under his breath, voice rough, hoarse, and trembling with conviction. "I will find you. And I will never forgive you."
There was no turning back now.
For the first time in years, Jeon Jungkook wasn't just a CEO.
He was a father—and someone had dared to hurt his child.
Later, he decides to leave to change his clothes. But the moment Jungkook stepped out of the hospital doors, the cold night air hit him like a slap, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside his chest. His steps staggered as he crossed the lot to where his car waited—sleek and black, polished and perfect, unlike the mess within him.
He yanked the driver's door open and slid into the seat, his hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to this world. But it wasn't. Nothing was. Not anymore.
He stared blankly ahead, but all he could see was her.
Taeri.
Her little body crumpling, blood soaking the innocence from her dress. Her weak smile. The way she'd still managed to call him Bunny Man. The way her tiny fingers clutched his hand like he was her whole world—and he didn't even know she existed until a day ago.
And now... now he couldn't breathe.
His chest heaved, heart thudding so loudly it echoed in his ears. And then, without warning, the dam burst.
He slammed a fist against the steering wheel, letting out a guttural, broken sound—something between a sob and a scream. Tears streamed down his face, hot and wild, years of pain and grief pouring out at once.
"I almost lost her," he whispered, voice cracking. "I didn't even know her... and I almost lost her..."
His forehead dropped onto the wheel, the leather cool against his skin as he trembled violently.
"What if I didn't come? What if I was too late?" he choked out. "God—what if she died not even knowing who I am?"
A sob escaped him, so deep it rattled his bones.
"I should've been there," he whispered through clenched teeth. "I should've known. I should've protected her."
He thought about Taehyungie—her pale face, her trembling hands, the agony in her cries. He remembered the way she had collapsed in his arms in the hospital hallway, begging the universe to save their daughter. Their daughter.
And he had the audacity to once tell her to abort them.
That thought alone shattered him all over again.
"I don't deserve her," he cried, fisting his hair. "I don't deserve either of them."
But that didn't matter now. Because even if he didn't deserve them, he would burn the world to protect them.
He stayed there in the car for what felt like hours, crying, breathing, remembering.
And vowing.
If fate had given him this second chance...
He wasn't going to waste it.
Not now. Not ever.
"She's just a child," he whispered, voice low and dark. "My daughter."
His fists slammed against the wheel, the sound echoing in the confined space. He leaned forward, breathing heavily as fire settled in his stomach.
"They shot at my child."
His voice cracked with fury now, vibrating with raw intensity.
"They didn't just cross a line," he said, teeth gritted. "They declared war."
Jungkook's head fell back against the headrest, chest rising and falling like a storm barely contained.
"They aimed a gun at my little girl," he whispered, voice shaking. "They tried to take her from me before I even had the chance to tell her she was mine."
His eyes glinted with a dark promise as he looked up at the car's ceiling, the weight of vengeance sinking into his bones.
"I'll destroy them," he muttered. "Whoever they are. Wherever they are. I'll tear their world apart."
The father in him was awake now.
And nothing... nothing was more dangerous than a man who nearly lost the one thing he never knew he needed most.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 19: Closer to you
Chapter Text
Three days had passed in a blur of antiseptic corridors and whispered fears. Now, as the discharge papers were signed and the IV was removed, Taeri clung softly to her mother's hand, tired but glowing with the kind of light only children carried.
"I'll carry her," Jungkook said gently, stepping forward.
"No, it's fine," Taehyungie responded quickly, eyes wary.
But Jungkook had already lifted Taeri into his arms, careful, protective, and without hesitation. Taehyungie opened her mouth to protest again, but Taeri had already snuggled into his chest with a soft, satisfied sigh.
"I'll have you all sent home," Jungkook said as they walked. "No questions. No drama. Just safely home."
Taeri's voice piped up happily, "Does that mean Bunny Man is coming to live with us?"
Jungkook smiled despite himself. "I wish, princess."
Taehyungie said nothing. She sat beside her daughter in the backseat, watching Jungkook through the rearview mirror. He drove in calm silence, his free hand occasionally brushing Taeri's small hand, laughing at her ramblings about cartoons, jelly snacks, and "how boring the hospital was."
And all the while, Taehyungie sat in silence.
The man laughing with my daughter, she thought bitterly, once told me to end her life before she ever began.
It was cruel how the universe worked. How no matter how far she ran, fate dragged them back like tangled threads. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared out the window, her heart aching, confused, torn.
They reached the neighborhood.
Jungkook slowed the car.
And that's when he saw it.
A black car, almost too still, tucked behind the corner wall like a ghost waiting to strike again. Jungkook's face hardened in an instant.
"Stay inside," he said coldly, parking the car in a sudden jolt.
"Wait—Jungkook!"
He was already out the door.
The black car jerked to life and sped off the moment he stepped out. Jungkook ran after it, fast, fueled by fury and fear, but it disappeared before he could get a plate or a clear view.
Jaw clenched, he returned to the car, rage simmering in his blood.
Back at the Kim residence, Taehyungie helped Taeri out as Jungkook lifted her again, holding her like the treasure she was.
As they entered the house, the air shifted.
"Taeri!" Taehyun shouted, bolting from the hallway.
"Silly bun!" Taeri giggled, stretching her arms.
The boy launched into his sister's arms, careful not to hurt her. Then his eyes widened as he looked up.
"Bunny man!"
Jungkook couldn't stop himself.
He bent down, arms wide. "Hey, little man."
Hyun squealed with glee and launched himself into Jungkook's arms. Jungkook held him tight, burying his face into the soft curls on the boy's head, feeling like something fragile inside him had just begun to heal.
He held the twins like his life depended on it.
From across the room, Namjoon watched with a clenched jaw, anger and protectiveness battling with unspoken guilt.
Jinnie bit her lip, eyes glassy, overwhelmed with emotion—and a whisper of guilt she could no longer ignore.
Jiminie, arms folded, scoffed quietly. Her sharp eyes didn't soften. Not yet.
Taehyungie?
She looked away.
Because for all the tenderness unfolding before her, all she could feel was the ache—the ache of remembering everything she went through alone. The ache of seeing her children smile so freely at a man who once abandoned them before they could speak their first word.
She blinked away a tear and walked to her room.
And Jungkook... he watched her go, still holding both twins.
He didn't say a word.
But his heart screamed with every beat.
--
The house was quieter now.
Jungkook had taken the twins downstairs to the living room after lunch, playing gently with them while the rest of the house tried to piece itself back together from the emotional wreckage of the past week.
Upstairs, Namjoon stood at Taehyungie's door, arms crossed, waiting.
"Can we talk?" he asked gently.
Taehyungie looked up from where she sat at the edge of her bed, her fingers nervously twisting into each other. She nodded once, and Namjoon stepped in, leaving the door opened behind him.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
"You let him carry her," Namjoon said, voice low. "You let him bring her home."
Taehyungie sighed tiredly. "She was shot, Joon. She needed blood."
Namjoon's brows furrowed. "So you called him?"
"He was the only one I knew who could match her blood type. I didn't have time to think. I just... acted."
Namjoon ran a hand over his face, pacing. "So what now? You let him feed her, carry her, tuck her in... What happens when she starts asking why she looks like him?"
Taehyungie looked down, her eyes stinging. "I don't know."
"They're smart, Tae. They'll put it together—"
"I know, Namjoon!" she snapped, then faltered.
Namjoon paused. Taehyungie's voice broke into a whisper. "They'll find out eventually... I just didn't want it to be like this. Not because she almost died."
He sat beside her, his tone gentler now. "How do we even tell them? They've grown up thinking their father didn't exist."
She swallowed hard, still looking at her hands. "He does exist. He just didn't want them."
Namjoon frowned. "Tae..."
"It's true," she murmured. "He told me to abort them, Joon. He didn't even know there were two... and yet now—"
She exhaled shakily, unaware of the small figure that had stopped by the door.
"I didn't want them to find out their father is ' bunny man' like this," she whispered.
At that exact moment—
A gasp.
Taehyungie's head snapped toward the door.
There stood Taehyun, tiny hands clutching his favorite dinosaur plushie, wide-eyed.
"Hyun?" Taehyungie whispered, standing in alarm. "Wait—!"
But Taehyun was already gone.
"No, no, no—"
She chased him down the hallway, heart pounding, calling his name in vain as he sprinted down the stairs.
Jungkook turned around just in time as Taehyun burst into the room, face red from running, eyes sparkling with something wild and confused.
"Taeri!"
Taeri sat up instantly, her eyes wide.
Taehyun pointed at Jungkook, cheeks puffed with the weight of his discovery. "He's our daddy!"
Everything stopped.
The air went still. The toys on the floor felt too loud. The colors too bright.
Jungkook froze, lips parting as he looked between the twins.
Taehyungie descended the stairs slowly, breath caught in her chest, her face pale as chalk.
Taeri blinked, then looked up at her mother.
"Mama?" she said quietly, eyes big and full of something too fragile.
"Is it true?" Taeri asked again, her voice soft. "Is Bunny Man our daddy?"
Taehyungie's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Her eyes glistened, her chest rose in uneven beats, and finally, with a broken exhale...
She nodded.
A single, slow nod.
"Yes," she whispered.
The twins gasps in surprise and happiness.
And Jungkook—Jungkook sat still, completely still, watching the truth take root in the very hearts he'd already fallen for.
And all Taehyungie could think, as a tear slid down her cheek, was:
No... this wasn't how they were supposed to find out.
Taeri blinked slowly, clutching her bunny plushie tighter, "Mama... is that true? Is bunny man... our daddy?"
Taehyungie's throat closed up. She looked into her daughter's innocent eyes and felt her knees weaken. There was no more hiding. Not after everything.
"...Yes," she whispered, audible enough. "He's your father."
Taehyun looked confused but happy, while Taeri's eyes welled with tears. "You mean... daddy didn't travel that far?"
Taehyungie's lips trembled. "N-no" she whispered "H-he was a-around. H-he--" Jungkook took a step forward, his voice breaking. "I didn't know, Taeri. I didn't know about you. I'm so sorry, baby."
Taeri stared at him, then ran into his arms "I'm happy!" she squeals. Jungkook caught her and hugged her tight, his whole body trembling. "I missed everything... but I'm here now," he said shakily.
Taehyun joined them, wrapping his tiny arms around Jungkook's leg, and for a moment, they stood like a family reunited. But behind that reunion was a brewing storm.
--
The room was empty now.
Namjoon had taken the twins away gently, after Taeri's quiet but curious, "Why didn't he live with us, Mama?"
Taehyungie had remained frozen for what felt like a lifetime. Her hands trembled at her sides, and her heart still hadn't steadied.
Behind her, Jungkook stood, his eyes fixed on her back like a dying man clinging to a fading star.
"Taehyungie..."
Her name was a whisper. Broken. Begging.
She didn't turn.
"Please... we need to talk."
She didn't turn around. "Talk?" Her voice was bitter. "Funny, you never wanted to talk when I needed you the most."
Jungkook stepped closer. "I didn't know, Taehyungie. I swear. If I did, I would've—"
"Would've what?" she finally turned, eyes glistening with tears that refused to fall. "Claimed them? Loved them? Been there for them? Don't lie to yourself."
He swallowed hard, unable to answer. Taehyungie's lips trembled, but her stare remained sharp.
"You want to talk? Then let's talk," she whispered. "Let's talk about the night you ruined me. The night you shattered my world with a damn game."
Jungkook froze. "Taehyungie..."
"You chose me on a dare, Jungkook. Truth or dare. You were bored, and I was the joke," she seethed. "And for what? To prove something to your stupid little friends? To get a laugh?"
"It wasn't just a dare," he said quickly, stepping forward. "I—I cared about you, I loved you. I just... I got scared."
"No," she said, voice rising. "You didn't just get scared. You abandoned me. You humiliated me. You told me to get rid of the baby like it was nothing. Like they were nothing."
He flinched. Her words cut like razors.
"I kept them. I went through the pain, the shame, the judgment. Alone. While you moved on, became a CEO, lived your perfect life," she spat. "And now what? You think showing up at the hospital, holding Taeri's hand, fixes everything?"
Tears rolled down Jungkook's cheeks. He didn't try to wipe them. "I don't expect forgiveness. I just... I want to be their father. I want to be in their lives."
Taehyungie stared at him, eyes burning.
"I loved you once, Jungkook," she whispered. "More than anything. And you turned that love into regret. I won't let you hurt them the way you hurt me."
Jungkook dropped to his knees again, hands trembling. "Please... don't take them away from me.
Taehyungie scoffed, shaking her head with a bitter laugh. "Funny how you didn't mean it, yet I spent five years raising them on my own. Funny how your 'didn't mean it' left me bleeding in a delivery room with no one but my best friend holding my hand."
"I'm sorry." His voice cracked again, eyes glassy, shoulders slumped in shame. "God, Taehyungie, I'm so sorry."
"I don't want your sorry."
She turned from him again, arms wrapping tightly around herself. "I begged you to believe me back then. And you made me feel like dirt. Like some desperate, lying girl. You made me bury my pain, my youth, my dreams... for those kids. And I'd do it again," she whispered, her voice trembling with a quiet kind of fury. "Because they're my everything. But you?"
She looked over her shoulder, eyes filled with fire and frost.
"You don't get to ask for forgiveness like it's owed."
Jungkook stepped closer again, desperate, his voice hoarse. "Tae, please. I didn't know—"
"And now you do," she cut in sharply. "You know, and you still weren't there when my daughter was shot. I was. You know, and you still got to learn about your own children from a hospital chart."
He took another step, and she held up a hand, stopping him.
"I needed you then. Not now that they're smiling at you."
Her voice broke, but her gaze didn't.
Jungkook's knees nearly buckled under the weight of her words. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the tears to stop, but they fell anyway.
"I will earn it," he whispered. "I'll earn whatever it takes. I'll never ask them to call me dad. I'll never push. But please... don't shut me out of their lives completely."
She said nothing.
He dared one more plea. "Just... let me be in their world."
Taehyung's silence hung like a noose.
She finally walked past him, brushing his shoulder. "I'm not the girl who begged you to love her anymore," Taehyungie whispered. "I'm the woman who survived you."
Jungkook fell to his knees, face buried in his hands — sobbing in a home filled with children who bore his eyes... and a woman who no longer trusted his heart.
--
The lights in the Jeon mansion's sitting room were dim, soft jazz playing faintly in the background. Jungkook's mother sat quietly, sipping from a teacup, her silk robe drawn tightly over her shoulders. The night was calm—but it shattered the moment the front doors slowly open.
"Jungkook?" she called, rising quickly. "Is everything—?"
He walked in like a man drowning, eyes red and hollow, his chest heaving as he tried to form words. His mother took one look at his trembling frame and rushed to him.
"Kook," she whispered, cupping his face. "What happened?"
He dropped to his knees before her, burying his face in her lap like he had when he was a boy. And then—he broke.
"She was shot, Mom," he choked out. "My daughter... Taeri. She was shot."
His mother's heart stopped, confused. "What?"
He shook, tears soaking into the fabric of her nightgown. "Taehyungie... she rushed into my office begging me to come to the hospital. I didn't know what was happening. She said Taeri needed blood. My blood."
His mother stared, stunned. "You... you donated?"
"She's mine, Mom," he sobbed. " The twins i told you about. She's my daughter. So is her twin brother. Taeri and Taehyun. Taehyungie was pregnant back then... she had them in Paris."
The words hit the room like thunder.
His mother sat back slowly, the weight of the truth anchoring her breath. "Twins," she whispered. "Taehyungie had your children..."
Jungkook nodded, wiping his eyes roughly. "They recognized me... called me Bunny Man. I—I didn't even know they existed, Mom."
His voice cracked again.
"I saw Taeri lying in that hospital bed and I—" His chest heaved. "I thought I was going to lose her before I even had the chance to know her. I'm terrified. I keep thinking—what if I didn't go? What if she died without ever knowing her father?"
His mother moved from the couch and sank to her knees in front of him, holding him tightly.
"And Taehyungie?" she asked softly.
He shook his head, pain rising in his throat again. "She won't forgive me. She looks at me like I'm a stranger. Or worse—a danger. She's so cold, and I deserve it. I told her to abort them when I was nineteen. I walked away."
Silence lingered between them, heavy and fragile. Then, slowly, his mother whispered, "Taehyungie... Taehyungie Kim?"
He looked up, his eyes face flushed with tears and nods
She smiled sadly. "The sweet little girl with the flower pins... you always brought her here. When you two were kids. She was so quiet, so polite—had this dreamy look in her eyes when she looked at you. I remember thinking she was the first girl who looked at you like a person, not a Jeon."
Jungkook's throat tightened. "She was my first love."
"I know," his mother said gently. "But Jungkook, you broke her heart. It's not going to be easy."
He nodded, wiping his face again. "I know. But I have to try. For them—for the twins. For her. Even if she never loves me again... I want to protect them."
His mother held him tighter. "Then be a father first. Prove you're not the boy who walked away. Be the man who stays, who fights."
Jungkook nodded, heart still raw. "I will."
She brushed his hair back like she used to when he was a child. "And when she's ready... she'll see it. And by the way, I'd like to see my grandkids"
Jungkook leaves a breathy laugh and nods "They look just like me, i feel so stupid for not seeing it earlier." he whispered His mother smiles "Jeon genes are really crazy" she laughs and Jungkook rests his head on her shoulder. A determined look on his face.
--
6 Months Ago
The soft jazz playing in the background mingled with the gentle clinking of cups and the hum of conversation. The Belle Lune Café was a hidden gem nestled in a quiet corner of Seoul — all soft lighting, hanging plants, and the comforting scent of fresh pastries and roasted coffee beans.
Jung Hoseok sat by the window, notebook open but untouched. His mind, often bursting with ideas and energy, felt curiously blank today. He lifted his cappuccino and took a thoughtful sip, gaze trailing to the small garden outside.
And that's when he saw her.
A girl — petite, in a flowing cream sweater and a pleated skirt — stood near the counter, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at the menu with furrowed brows. Her presence wasn't loud, but something about her shimmered — a quiet kind of light.
She ordered chamomile tea and lemon tart, and when she turned, their eyes met.
It was only a glance.
But she smiled — and it reached her eyes.
Hoseok's heart skipped a beat.
When she sat two tables away, he found himself sneaking glances, occasionally catching her scribbling into a small sketchbook. The artist in him was intrigued.
He stood up.
Approaching a stranger wasn't always easy, but Hoseok was never one to let a chance pass him by — especially not one that made his heart feel this... alive.
"Hi," he said, offering the friendliest smile he had. "Sorry if I'm interrupting... I just wanted to say your energy is really peaceful. Are you... sketching?"
Ami blinked, surprised. Then smiled softly. "Yes, actually. It's nothing big — just a habit."
"Mind if I take a look?"
She hesitated, then turned her sketchbook so he could peek.
Delicate pencil lines formed a drawing of a cat curled up in the café window.
Hoseok let out a low whistle. "You're really good."
"Thank you..." She gave him a curious glance. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"I drop by when I want to escape everything," Hoseok chuckled. "I'm Hoseok."
"Ami," she replied, shaking his hand gently. "Nice to meet you."
"Would it be weird if I asked to be friends?" he asked, chuckling nervously. "I mean, I'd love to get to know the artist who sees the world this softly."
Ami looked at him, smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Alright, friend," she said, "but only if you share your own art too."
From that moment, Belle Lune Café became their spot — the place where quiet talks became long conversations, and friendship turned into something deeper neither of them dared to name... yet.
Present: The Beach — Sunset Hour
Waves lapped gently against the shore as golden hues danced on the water's surface. The sun dipped low, casting an amber glow across the sand where Hoseok and Ami strolled barefoot.
Ami's laughter echoed as Hoseok spun around playfully, arms wide like a bird catching the wind.
"Hobi, you're going to fall!" she giggled.
"I will, but I'll do it gracefully!" he called back, making her laugh even harder.
They walked until the sun nearly kissed the horizon, then settled on a large picnic blanket Hoseok had laid out earlier — filled with fruits, pastries, and two chilled cans of peach soda.
Ami rested her chin on her knees, watching the sky.
"This feels like a painting," she whispered. "It's too pretty to be real."
"It is real," Hoseok said softly, gazing at her instead of the view. "It's real because you're here."
Ami turned to him, her cheeks warm.
"You've gotten smoother since we met at the café," she teased.
Hoseok smiled. "Maybe because I knew from the moment I saw you — you were going to be someone important to me."
A comfortable silence passed between them as the tide rolled gently.
Hoseok plucked a tiny seashell from the sand and handed it to her. "For your sketchbook. Maybe it'll remind you of this day."
She held it gently in her palm, looking at him.
And for a fleeting second, it felt like the waves quieted, the sky paused, and the universe leaned in.
"I think," Ami whispered, "this is the part where we stop pretending we're just friends."
Hoseok blinked, stunned.
Then slowly, like the sun slipping into the horizon, his smile spread.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
--
The bell above the café door chimed softly as Hoseok held it open, letting Ami step in first. The familiar scent of coffee beans, vanilla, and lemon pastries wrapped around them like an old embrace.
Nothing had changed.
Same warm brick walls, same window seat bathed in afternoon light, same soft jazz tunes playing like a gentle heartbeat in the background.
But something had changed.
Them.
They weren't just two souls orbiting around shared glances and "what ifs" anymore. They were something solid now. Something real.
Ami glanced around, nostalgia shimmering in her eyes. "Feels the same, doesn't it?"
Hoseok smiled, nodding. "Yeah. Except I'm not awkwardly standing over your table this time, trying to pretend I'm not nervous."
Ami laughed — the sound that had slowly become Hoseok's favorite music.
They ordered — her usual chamomile tea and lemon tart, and his cappuccino with extra foam — then made their way to their spot by the window.
As they sat, Ami pulled out a new sketchbook. Hoseok tilted his head curiously. "You brought it?"
She nodded. "Felt right to start a new one here... with you."
Warmth spread in Hoseok's chest.
They talked about everything and nothing — the stray cat that still lounged in the garden, how she had drawn him dancing the other day without his knowing, how his laugh still echoed in her memory from the first time they met.
Halfway through their drinks, Hoseok reached across the table and gently took her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"You know," he murmured, voice softer than the music floating around them, "I didn't just fall in love with you. I fell in love with the quiet way you see the world — and how, when I'm with you, it feels less loud, less chaotic."
Ami's eyes welled, just a little. "You've always made the world feel brighter, Hoseok. Even on my greyest days."
They stayed like that — hand in hand, smiles soft, eyes full — as the light outside mellowed into gold.
No more pretending.
No more "just friends."
As the waiter passed by and chuckled, Hoseok leaned in and whispered, "You still owe me a sketch."
Ami raised her brow. "Of what?"
"Of this," he said, gesturing around them — the window seat, the golden sun, the cups between them, their entwined hands.
"This moment."
And she smiled.
She'd sketch it later — not just on paper, but in memory. Because this was the moment when the café that began their story became the place where their hearts finally met.
--
The doorbell rang through the Kim residence just as afternoon light spilled softly across the tiled floor. Jiminie peeked out through the curtains and sighed.
"He's here."
Before anyone could respond, the patter of feet thundered through the house.
Jungkook didn't even get a chance to knock.
"Daddy!" Taeri and Taehyun squealed in unison as they rushed toward the front door, flinging it open with the force of a small storm.
Time froze.
Taehyungie's hands stilled on her laptop.
Jungkook blinked. Slowly, he looked up at his daughter. "What... what did you call me?"
Taeri smiled innocently, eyes crinkling. "Daddy!" she chirped again, then leaned in to whisper, "But don't worry. We know you're also Bunny Man." Taehyun giggled.
There they were—his children—faces lit up with unfiltered joy, eyes bright like stars in the dusk. The word Daddy echoed in his chest, louder than any heartbeat.
Taeri jumped into his arms before he could breathe, while Taehyun clung to his leg, looking up with a gap-toothed grin.
Jungkook dropped to his knees, enveloping them both in a hug so tight, so desperate, it made his throat burn. He closed his eyes for a beat, imprinting the moment in his memory like it was sacred.
"You missed us, didn't you?" Taehyun asked proudly.
"I missed you so much," Jungkook whispered, voice trembling. "You have no idea."
Behind them, Jiminie, Namjoon, and Jinnie stood by the hallway. Jinnie gave him a polite nod. Jiminie just crossed her arms. Namjoon, however, didn't bother to hide the tension in his jaw.
Jungkook gently let the kids go and stood, offering a soft bow. "Thank you for letting me come."
Taehyungie stood near the archway to the living room. She wore a long beige sweater over her jeans, her arms crossed loosely—guarded. Her eyes flicked toward the twins, then to him. She didn't say a word.
"Taehyungie," he greeted quietly.
Her expression didn't change. "You brought something?"
Jungkook nodded, lifting two glossy bags from beside his feet. "Gifts."
That broke the silence.
"Gifts!" Taehyun clapped.
"Open them! Open them!" Taeri chanted.
They rushed to the couch with Jungkook following closely. He sat between them as they unwrapped the bags. From one, Taeri pulled out a limited edition pink bunny plushie, her eyes going wide.
"Bunny Man," she whispered happily, hugging it close.
Taehyun's gift was a miniature model race car set, complete with a glowing remote and personalized stickers that had T.H. on the side.
"Whoa..." he gasped. "Is this real?!"
Jungkook chuckled. "Only for the coolest little guy I know."
Namjoon watched from a corner of the room, arms crossed, eyes heavy with conflict.
Jiminie muttered to Jinnie, "He's really trying."
Taehyungie didn't speak. She stood in the doorway, arms still crossed, watching the man who once broke her with a sentence now trying to piece himself back together with laughter and soft words for the children she raised alone.
Jungkook lay on his stomach on the carpet, pretending to drive the car with Taehyun while Taeri leaned against his back, bunny plush in her arms.
Their giggles echoed like tiny bells.
Despite herself, Taehyungie's heart clenched painfully at the sight.
How could something so wrong... look this right? The soft hum of the house settling into night filled the silence. With one last glance, she moves to her room.
Taehyungie sat on the edge of her bed, still dressed, her long fingers curled tightly into the duvet. The laughter from her children still echoed faintly in her mind — especially that one word.
"Daddy."
She pressed a hand over her chest, trying to soothe the dull ache there. It had been building all day, but when her children — her sweet, innocent babies — had said it so naturally, so joyfully...
She broke.
Taehyungie stood up abruptly, pacing, trying to breathe through the storm brewing inside her. Tears blurred her vision, but she wiped them away angrily.
"I did everything," she whispered to no one. "I raised them. I gave them love, warmth, stories... everything. I was enough."
But the echo of Taeri's giggle, the way Taehyun looked at Jungkook like he hung the stars — it haunted her.
He wasn't there when she cried alone in a hospital room in Paris, arms aching to hold two newborns at once.
He wasn't there for their first steps, or when Taeri broke a tooth, or when Taehyun asked why they didn't have a dad like the other kids at school.
And yet — he still made them smile like they'd known him forever.
Her knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, pressing her forehead to the mattress, trembling with sobs she hadn't let out in years.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
"Taetae?" Jiminie's gentle voice came through. "You okay?"
Taehyungie cleared her throat quickly, wiping her face. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
"I just need... a moment."
There was a pause. "Okay. I'll be right outside if you need me."
Silence fell again.
Taehyungie clutched her chest. "Why now?" she whispered. "Why is the universe giving them what I tried so hard to protect them from?"
But deep down, she knew.
Because no matter how much he hurt her...
He was their father.
And they saw him. Loved him. Trusted him.
The cold exterior she wore every time he was around — it was beginning to crack.
But she wasn't ready.
Not yet.
--
Kim Residence – Playroom, Late Afternoon
The gentle hum of laughter echoed down the hallway of the Kim residence. Taehyungie, on her way to the kitchen with a folded blanket in hand, paused near the slightly open door of the children's playroom.
She leaned closer.
Inside, Taeri sat cross-legged on the floor, her arm still wrapped with soft bandages, yet her smile was brighter than ever.
"Daddy, nooo! You're cheating again!" she giggled, clutching a pink plushie as she tried to defend her tower of blocks.
Jungkook sat cross-legged on the carpet in sweatpants and a black tee, arms raised dramatically.
"I'm not cheating! I'm just... enhancing the game."
"Hyunie, help me!" Taeri called.
Taehyun leapt up with a playful battle cry, grabbing a foam sword.
"I will save you, princess!"
Jungkook let out a hearty laugh, collapsing onto his back as the two kids piled on him, their tiny limbs flailing. "Ah! I surrender! Mercy!"
Taehyungie smiled quietly, still unseen by them.
"Tae," a small voice chirped behind her. She turned to see Jinnie with a tray of juice boxes. "Taeri's so energetic... I thought she'd be more tired after the hospital."
Taehyungie nodded, her gaze returning to the scene. "She's a fighter," she whispered.
Just then, Taehyun spotted her.
"Mama!" he shouted. "Come play with us!"
"No—" Taehyungie started, but before she could refuse, Taeri chimed in with a hopeful voice.
"Mamaaa, pleaaaase?"
"Just one game," Taehyun added, already grabbing her hand.
Reluctantly, Taehyungie entered the room. The second she sat down, Taeri crawled into her lap, snuggling close.
"You're warm," the little girl murmured.
Across from them, Jungkook silently watched the scene — the woman he once loved-- no. still loves, now cradling the child he never knew he had. The girl whose smile mirrored his own, her small hand wrapped tightly around Taehyungie's.
And for a moment, time stood still.
They started playing again — a mix of messy drawing, pretend tea parties, and building a block "castle." The kids laughed, their joy vibrating through the air like sunlight.
At some point, the children got distracted with glitter stickers and crayons, and Jungkook found himself seated beside Taehyungie, their knees nearly touching but Taehyungie shifts away slighty wth Jungkook's notice of course. But he brushed it off. He deserves it.
"Thank you... for letting me be here," he murmured.
Taehyungie didn't look at him. "It's not for you," she said. "It's for them."
"I know," he nodded, voice low. "But... still, thank you."
A long silence settled.
He watched her from the corner of his eye — her soft features, the way her fingers gently adjusted Taeri's bandage when it slipped, the flicker of protectiveness in her gaze.
She still looked like her — the girl who once laughed under the rain, who painted stars on his skin, who had walked away from him with pieces of his soul.
He wanted to say something — anything. About regret. About longing. About the ache that hadn't gone away in all those years.
But he only said, "You're doing well, Taehyungie."
She finally looked at him — just for a second.
And something shifted.
Pain. Resentment. Longing. Anger. Hate. It all hovered between them like dust in sunlight.
But before anything more could be said, Taehyun yelled, "Kiss! Kiss! Daddy and mama have to kiss! The king and queen always kiss in the castle!"
Jungkook and Taehyungie's eyes widened.
The kids burst into laughter, unaware of the storm they stirred.
But as Taehyungie stood up quickly to brush the moment off and take the kids for dinner, Jungkook looked at her retreating figure with a soft, broken smile.
She might not be his anymore.
But this feeling... it never left.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 20: Nightfall and secrets
Chapter Text
Jeon Enterprises – CEO's Office
The ticking of the antique clock on the wall grated on Jungkook's nerves as he sat behind his desk, his eyes scanning a document he hadn't read a word of. His phone buzzed. He snatched it instantly.
"Speak," his voice was low and sharp.
Eunwoo's voice crackled through the line, laced with frustration.
"I've gone through all the city's surveillance. Whoever did this—he's trained. Burned the plates, rerouted the camera feed, and he never got out of the car. The shot was from a modified sniper rifle with a silencer. Professional work."
Jungkook's fingers curled into a fist.
"You're telling me you have nothing? Not even a license plate?"
"A blur and a model match, but it's been scrubbed. This isn't some petty thug. He knew exactly what he was doing."
Jungkook stood, his jaw ticking as he looked out his office window, chest rising and falling with suppressed rage.
"Then dig deeper. Break the city in half if you have to. Someone aimed a gun at my daughter. My daughter, Eunwoo. I don't care if this bastard's a ghost—I want him found."
There was a pause.
"Yes, sir," Eunwoo said grimly, and the line went dead.
Jungkook slammed the phone on the desk. His knuckles were white.
--
Hotel Penthouse - late Afternoon
The suite was dim, bathed in the golden glow of floor lamps and city lights spilling in through the tall windows. Seoyoon, wrapped in a silk robe, stood in front of the mirror applying a red gloss to her lips — slow, deliberate, confident.
Her phone buzzed against the marble nightstand.
She picked it up without looking at the caller ID.
"Talk."
A male voice crackled through the line. Low, nervous.
"Jeon Jungkook has launched a private investigation. His people are digging. They're getting too close."
Seoyoon paused, lips parted mid-swipe. Her expression didn't change — but her reflection caught the faint narrowing of her eyes.
"How close?"
"Too close. They're retracing the car. They're asking questions."
A long silence followed. The only sound was the faint hum of traffic far below.
She walked slowly toward the window, gazing out at the city, phone pressed to her ear like a delicate earring.
"Then we stay quiet," she said, voice calm, almost musical. "Disappear for now. Let his rage burn cold."
"And the girl?"
A cruel smile ghosted her lips.
"She's breathing, isn't she?" Seoyoon murmured. "That's enough. For now."
She ended the call.
Her smile faded as she set the phone down. Her hand trembled for a brief second — not in fear, but in fury. Jungkook wasn't supposed to care. Not like this. Not for Taehyungie. Not for the child.
She grabbed her wine glass and took a slow sip.
Let him dig.
Let him rage.
But the moment he got too close — she'd be ready.
And this time...
She wouldn't miss.
The next day..
The golden doors of the Jeon estate opened gracefully as Seoyoon, clad in a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt, stepped through like a woman on a mission. Not a single wrinkle on her from last night's one-night stand in Gangnam—she had washed her sins clean in the hotel suite's marble tub and was ready to play her role.
The butler greeted her. She smiled with her usual polished charm and headed straight for the study.
Chairman Jeon was reading a newspaper with a brandy in hand.
"Chairman Jeon," she cooed, her heels tapping gently on the floor as she entered. "I've been thinking... perhaps we should move the engagement forward. With everything so uncertain lately, a Jeon-Choi alliance would bring a sense of stability, don't you think?"
The Chairman didn't even look up. "That won't be necessary."
Seoyoon blinked. "Excuse me?"
He folded the newspaper with precise care and finally met her eyes. "Your father has officially withdrawn the proposal. He's requested we consider it null."
A visible twitch ran through her eye—but only for a moment. Then she gave a sweet, sugary smile.
"Oh?" she tilted her head. "Well, if that's his wish... then I respect it. Of course."
Chairman Jeon nodded once. "You may stay for tea, if you wish."
But Seoyoon's smile never reached her eyes.
Behind that perfect lipstick curve, her mind was spiraling.
So the old man's getting cold feet? Or maybe someone's whispering things. Doesn't matter. Jungkook is mine. And no one—not even a brat from Paris—gets in my way.
--
The Choi Estate
Rain hammered against the windows of the Choi mansion like angry fists. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing inside.
"You did it?" Seoyoon's shriek pierced the marble halls as she barged into her father's study.
Chairman Choi didn't flinch. He sat behind his large oak desk, calm and unbothered.
"You can't do that!" she screamed, stomping forward, her perfectly styled hair now wild around her shoulders. "You promised me—you said—!"
"I warned you," he interrupted coolly. "I told you that was long ago. But you still took it seriously"
Seoyoon's eyes flared like fire. "I've worked years for this. You don't get to take it away now!"
Chairman Choi stood slowly, folding his arms behind his back. "This obsession will destroy you, Seoyoon. Let it go before it does."
But she wasn't listening. Her eyes darted to the ornate knife displayed in the glass case behind him — a ceremonial family heirloom.
Without thinking, Seoyoon lunged.
Glass shattered.
"Miss—!" a maid cried out from the door.
The room erupted in chaos.
Seoyoon held the knife against her own wrist, chest heaving, eyes wild and red. "If you don't reinstate the engagement—if you don't fix this—I swear to God, I'll end it right here, Father."
The maids froze in horror. Her father's face turned to stone.
"You've lost your mind," he said slowly, but his voice trembled.
"I mean it!" she cried, pressing the blade harder, a drop of blood forming. "You promised me everything. I will not be humiliated. I will not be forgotten. Renew it now, or I'll do it—right here, right now!"
Silence. Tension so thick it suffocated.
Chairman Choi's lips parted at last. "Fine. It's done. I'll call them in the morning."
Seoyoon's shoulders dropped, the knife lowering slightly. She exhaled shakily — not relief, but victory.
She turned to the mirror behind her, catching her own reflection: lips bloodied from a bite, hair wild, eyes dark as shadows. A distorted beauty.
She smirked.
"Game on, Taehyungie," she whispered with venom. "Let's see how long you keep Jungkook tied in your perfect little family before I shatter it again."
And with that, she dropped the knife to the floor, stepped over the blood-stained glass, and walked out — like the villain of her own twisted story.
--
The screen flickered softly as Jiminie leaned back on the couch in her bedroom, exhausted eyes meeting the concerned face of her boyfriend, Yoongi, on the other end of the video call.
Yoongi frowned. "You look like hell."
"I feel like hell," Jiminie muttered, rubbing her face. "Everything's just... spiraling."
"What happened?" Yoongi asked gently.
Jiminie exhaled deeply, then started. "You remember how i said Taeri is fine after the shot"
"Yeah," Yoongi nodded. He wished he was there. He nearly lost his niece.
"Well, there's more I didn't tell you. So... the shot was planned. Taeri needed alot of blood. Oh Yoongs it was so scary. Taehyungie's blood didnt match hers and Taeri's blood type was so rare and it was urgent. So, Taehyungie had no choice but to call Jungkook--"
Yoongi froze. "What?" he cuts her off.
"Yep," Jiminie said bitterly.
Yoongi's eyes darkened. " D-does he know?"
Jiminie sighs "Yeah. Oh! And another plot twist. Turns out Jungkook was bunny man. The twins met their father in Paris without our notice."
Yoongi was silent. He had a feeling Jungkook will meet the twins if he went.
"What about the sniper?" Yoongi leaned in.
" Jungkook was so furious Yoongs , they are currently under serious investigation. The black car seemed to vanish into thin air."
Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus, Minie."
"Yeah, and now he's hovering, acting like he's father of the year," Jiminie scoffed. "Taehyungie's trying to keep her head up, but I can tell it's breaking her. She didn't deserve this."
Yoongi's voice was calm but firm. "Take care of her Min, she needs you."
Jiminie nods "I know."
Jungkook had a mental breakdown when Taehyungie left and now that he has seen her and knows he has kids, Jungkook won't back down, and the attempted murder makes it even worse. Jungkook s vicious when it comes to what's his. Yoongi knows it.
Kim Residence – Jinnie and Namjoon's Bedroom
Jinnie sat by her window, the moonlight filtering through sheer curtains as she absentmindedly flipped through an old photo album. Pages of youth—her, Jungkook, Taehyungie, Namjoon, and Jiminie. Jungkook had visited Namjoon when the girls were having a play party, but the rest of the them except for oblivious Taehyungie knew Jungkook came because of her.
She paused on one photo: Jungkook piggybacking a laughing Taehyungie, his eyes locked on her with such adoration it made Jinnie ache.
He was so in love with her.
She remembered the way he used to sneak glances at Taehyungie as he passes their class, the way he'd light up when she smiled, the way his world seemed to revolve around her.
And then... he just ended it.
No warning. No reason. Just silence.
Taehyungie had cried for weeks.
Jinnie traced her finger over the image, heart heavy. She couldn't pinpoint the moment things cracked. Couldn't understand what made Jungkook pull away so coldly. Guilt churned in her stomach.
And now he was back. Gentle with the twins. Tearful when they called him daddy . Showing a kind of fear Jinnie had never seen in him before.
What are you doing, Jungkook? she wondered. Are you here to stay, or will you break her again?
She shut the album with a soft sigh. One thing was clear—this story wasn't over. And this time, Jinnie swore, if Jungkook broke Taehyungie again... she wouldn't stay quiet.
--
Jungkook burst into his father's study, the door slamming against the wall.
"You renewed the engagement?" he growled, eyes dark, body trembling with suppressed fury.
Chairman Jeon didn't look up from the newspaper. "She threatened her father with her life. He had no choice."
"She's unstable!" Jungkook yelled. "You think I'll tie myself to a psychopath just for business convenience?!"
His father shot back. " You'll face your consequences. You're a Jeon!"
Jungkook's fist pounded the desk. "I have the right to say no! I'm not getting married to Seoyoon !"
"She's from a powerful family—"
"I don't care if she's from the Choi bloodline or royalty," Jungkook seethed. "Call it off. This is your last warning."
His voice dropped low—cold, lethal. "Because if you don't, I will. And when I do, I won't just end the engagement. I'll end everything linked to it."
Chairman Jeon's silence was telling.
Jungkook turned, jaw clenched, the fury in his veins boiling. He didn't wait for a reply. His heart wasn't just raging for himself anymore—it was raging for the little girl who almost died. For the justice his princess deserved. For the woman he'd wronged. For the family he was willing to protect now, with teeth bared.
With fury in his steps he heads to choi mansion.
--
The soft rustle of leaves brushed against the windows as Namjoon sat in the quiet of the study, a barely touched cup of tea steaming beside him. The room was dim, windows covered with thick curtains, lit only by the golden glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows across the worn bookshelves and faded family pictures.
He ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.
Jungkook.
The name echoed like a storm inside his head.
How dare he return like this? Acting like a father... like he belonged here... like he hadn't left his sister to pick up the broken pieces of her life.
Namjoon hadn't been there the day Taehyungie collapsed at his feet with a pregnancy test in her shaking hands. Bur, he'd held her hair back when she vomited from morning sickness. He was the one who comforted her when she chose to go through with it — even when the world would have judged her, even when she was just a kid herself.
And Jungkook? He vanished.
Namjoon gritted his teeth.
He remembered confronting Jungkook back then, demanding an explanation, only to be met with silence. Cold indifference. Like Taehyungie meant nothing.
And now, Namjoon thought bitterly, now he wants to be their father? Now that they're alive and breathing and beautiful? Now that Taehyungie already raised them with her own pain and strength?
But...
His fists unclenched slowly.
He had seen it. The way Jungkook looked at Taeri and Taehyun like they were the center of his world. The fear in his eyes when Taeri was in the hospital. The reverence when he fed her, held her, touched her hair like it was made of glass.
It confused him. Infuriated him.
Part of him wanted to punch Jungkook. The other part wondered if people really changed.
But no matter what...
He looked toward the hallway, where his sister's room lay in stillness. She was too tired now, worn out from everything. He wouldn't burden her with more questions. Not yet.
But as her older brother, one thing was clear.
If Jungkook hurt her again — even unintentionally — Namjoon would make sure he regretted it.
He took a breath, leaned back in the chair, and whispered to no one in particular,
"You better be here for the right reasons, Jeon Jungkook. Or I swear, this time... you won't walk away so easily."
--
Choi Mansion
The massive iron gates of the Choi mansion groaned open as Jungkook stormed through, his footsteps echoing in the marbled foyer like gunshots. His eyes were sharp, wild with fury, his hands clenched at his sides.
Seoyoon stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a soft champagne gown, her hair swept into delicate curls. A smirk painted her face like perfume.
"Oh, Jungkook," she purred, descending slowly, "I was just about to send you an invite. I've already ordered my engagement dress. Italian silk. You'll love it."
"Cancel it," Jungkook said darkly, his voice shaking with barely contained rage.
Seoyoon's smile wavered but returned as quickly as it left. "You're angry. I understand. But feelings change. Besides," she stepped closer, "you don't have a choice."
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "I don't love you, Seoyoon. I never did. And if you think you can manipulate your way into my life, you're worse than I thought."
Her face twitched.
He leaned in, his voice a warning hiss, "Pull out of this engagement or I'll destroy whatever image you've worked so hard to protect. I will humiliate you in front of everyone."
Seoyoon's calm cracked.
She stepped back with a bitter chuckle. "So this is about her again? That... good-for-nothing Taehyungie?"
Jungkook turned to leave, his disgust boiling over — until Seoyoon's next words stopped him cold.
"How are your twins, Jungkook?"
His body froze mid-step.
He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"
Seoyoon's lips curled into a vicious grin. "I mean, it's adorable. How you suddenly want to play daddy. So noble. But let's be honest — if Taehyungie hadn't dragged you to the hospital, would you even know they existed?"
His hands balled into fists. "How do you know about them?"
"Because I had someone watching her," she said sweetly. "Cute little things, they really do look like you. Especially the boy..."
Her tone darkened. "You know what pissed me off? Seeing Taehyungie act like she won. Like you'd always come back to her. So I made a call. I just... wanted to scare her."
She tilted her head, venom lacing every word.
"It wasn't my fault that the bullet hit the girl. I said scare, not kill. But hey—things happen, don't they?"
The room fell silent.
Jungkook's vision went white with fury.
He lunged.
"YOU DID WHAT?!" he roared, grabbing for her, but the mansion guards surged forward, dragging him back with brute force.
He thrashed in their grip, veins pulsing, teeth gritted in raw pain. "I'll kill you! I swear on my daughter's blood, Seoyoon—!"
Seoyoon backed away now, fear breaking through her arrogance. "Get him out of here!" she shouted.
But Jungkook's voice echoed, deadly and guttural.
"Run, Seoyoon. Because the next time I see you... no one will be able to stop me."
As the guards shoved him out, Seoyoon stood frozen, her heart pounding against her ribs.
For the first time, her game wasn't fun anymore.
The doors slammed behind Jungkook, but the echo continued to ring in Seoyoon's ears like a death toll.
She stood frozen in the grand hallway, chest heaving, heart hammering against her ribs like it wanted to escape.
Her fingers trembled.
Her lips parted but no sound came out—only shaky breaths.
"I told him..." she whispered.
She turned slowly, her heels clicking on the marble floor. A maid nearby flinched as Seoyoon's hand swiped an ornate vase off the table—CRASH!
"I TOLD HIM!" she screamed now, her voice cracking.
"No no no no no—how could I—how could I be so stupid?" Her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees, clawing at her temples.
"I just wanted her broken. Just wanted him back. I didn't mean to say it—I didn't mean to—"
She looked up, wide-eyed, toward the gilded ceiling as if it held salvation. Her perfectly styled hair clung to her face with sweat.
"He'll kill me... Jungkook will come for me..."
Her voice cracked into a whisper, full of dread. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone and threw it across the floor, shattering the screen. She let out a cry like a wounded animal, curling in on herself.
Everything she built—gone.
Everything she planned—ruined.
And the worst part?
She had confessed it... with her own stupid, arrogant mouth.
Jungkook slammed the car door shut, his breathing harsh, fists trembling around the steering wheel. His eyes were bloodshot, skin pale with rage.
He tapped his phone furiously and pressed it to his ear.
Eunwoo picked up instantly.
"Hyung?"
"Did you find him?" Jungkook's voice was raw, guttural, low enough to shake bones.
"Yes. Sniper's tied up in the warehouse. He didn't leave a trace... almost like a ghost, but I found him. Took three days, but I got him."
Jungkook's jaw tightened, teeth grinding audibly. "Is he talking?"
"Not yet."
There was a pause.
Then Jungkook's voice dropped into ice.
"Beat him until he forgets his name. I want him unconscious. Then wake him up and do it again."
"Hyung—"
"DO IT, EUNWOO. I don't care how long it takes. I want every detail. Who paid him. How. When. Everything. I need proof!"
He ended the call before hearing a reply and leaned back into the seat, eyes glassy with fury.
As the rain began to fall against the windshield, Jungkook whispered:
"You touched my daughter. You threatened what's mine... now I'll burn your world to the ground."
--
Kim Residence
The door creaked open and there he stood—Jungkook, drenched slightly from the misty evening air, shadows under his eyes, a haunting look clouding his features.
Taehyungie hadn't even opened her mouth when two small bodies crashed into him like the force of light.
"Daddy!" Taeri squealed, arms locking around his waist.
Taehyun beamed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he jumped on Jungkook's back.
Jungkook's arms automatically wrapped around them, but not with his usual surety. His grip trembled—literally trembled—as if holding them was the only thing keeping him standing. His eyes, red-rimmed and glossed, flickered shut as he inhaled deeply, grounding himself in their tiny warmth.
Taehyungie's brow furrowed as she watched. Her hand curled over the edge of the doorframe.
Why is he shaking? Why do his eyes look like he's been crying for hours?
The kids babbled on, oblivious to the storm that lingered over Jungkook's shoulders. They took his hands and dragged him into the house, speaking of drawings, snacks, stories Jinnie read, and how much they missed him in the morning.
Jungkook smiled—but it didn't reach his eyes.
Later that night, he tucked them into bed with a gentleness that made Taehyungie's chest tighten. He kissed Taeri's forehead, fixed Taehyun's blanket, whispered something that made them giggle sleepily, and waited until they were lost to dreams.
As he stood and turned, Taehyungie had just stepped away from the door. She hesitated but turned back when he quietly called out:
"Taehyungie..."
She stilled, her hand hovering near the wall. Her eyes met his across the dim hallway.
"We found him," he said.
Her entire body tensed. "The sniper?"
Jungkook nodded slowly, jaw flexing. "Eunwoo has him. He's being... handled."
The air between them turned thick, heavy with restrained rage and memories of blood. Taehyungie's eyes blazed. "I want to see him."
"No," Jungkook said quietly, walking toward her. "Not yet."
Her hands curled into fists. "Why not? That man tried to kill my daughter, Jungkook! He almost succeeded! I have every right—"
"We're not done with him," Jungkook interrupted, his voice low, barely a whisper. "We need evidence. Connections. Proof of who ordered it."
Taehyungie stared at him, heart pounding in her ears. There was something in his tone—something he wasn't saying.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."
Jungkook looked down, then back up. "I'm protecting you."
Taehyungie stepped closer. "From what?"
He didn't answer. Just shook his head, softly, painfully. "Not yet."
She saw it then—the flicker of something darker behind his eyes. Grief. Guilt. Murderous fury.
Something had shifted inside him.
Jungkook looked past her, toward the twin's door.
"They don't deserve this," he murmured. "Any of it."
And for the first time that night, Taehyungie softened—not out of sympathy, but out of fear. Because if they don't get to know who did it, then the storm was only just beginning.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 21: Burning eyes
Chapter Text
The city of Seoul was silent, its heartbeat slowed beneath the moonlight. In the guestroom where Taehyungie had retreated after putting the twins to bed, her hands trembled as she dialed the number she knew by heart.
Claire answered on the second ring.
"Ma chérie?" Her voice was warm, thick with concern. "Why are you calling so late? Are the children alright?"
Taehyungie's throat tightened. The sound of Claire's voice—steady, refined, motherly—was a balm she hadn't known she needed.
"I need to tell you something," Taehyungie whispered, her voice barely audible. "A lot has happened."
She didn't sugarcoat it. Over the next few minutes, her words spilled—ragged, pained, sharp. She told Claire about the shooting. About Taeri's blood loss, the need for a donor, and how Jungkook— the father —was the only match. She told her how the twins now knew, how everything was unraveling so fast, and how deep betrayal had rooted itself into her bones.
The line stayed silent until Taehyungie broke down.
"I don't know what to do anymore. Every time I think I've protected them, something else threatens to take them away. And Claire... we don't still know who did it"
There was a long pause. Then Claire exhaled slowly.
"I wish you were here," Taehyungie whispered, voice cracking.
Claire's breath caught. "Then I'll book the next flight—"
"No," Taehyungie interrupted quickly. "Please. Don't. You have to stay with Maison Duval. You worked so hard. You built it. It needs you now."
"Taehyungie—"
"I mean it," she said firmly, wiping her eyes. "I can't let what's happening here ruin everything you protected for me over there. I'm not a child anymore, Claire. I'll handle it."
Silence again. Then Claire's voice came soft, proud, but lined with worry:
"You may not be a child, but you'll always be my little girl. I trust you. But promise me you won't carry this storm alone."
"I promise."
"And tell that man," Claire added coldly, "if he fails you again—I will come to Seoul myself. And he will not like what I have to say."
A fragile laugh broke through Taehyungie's tears.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. Now go rest. Hug the children twice as tight. And Taehyungie?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't let guilt silence your strength. You're not the same girl he left behind."
Taehyungie swallowed hard.
"I know."
--
One Week Later
The abandoned warehouse smelled of rust, oil, and blood. The air was thick with tension, and every sound echoed like a gunshot.
Jungkook stood before the man who had dared to pull the trigger on his child.
The sniper was a mess of bruises, swollen flesh, and broken pride — barely recognizable. Dried blood crusted at the corner of his mouth. His hands were tied behind his back, his head bowed in shame or defiance—it was hard to tell.
Eunwoo stood in the shadows, silent but watchful, a small pin camera hidden in his jacket streaming everything live to secured drives. A recorder blinked red beside him.
Jungkook's jaw ticked, fists clenched at his side. He approached slowly, each step resounding with the weight of a father's fury.
"Who ordered you to shoot my daughter?" His voice was low, dangerous.
The sniper looked up, one eye swollen shut. "I... don't know what you're—"
CRACK.
Jungkook's fist collided with his face, blood spurting from his lip. The man coughed violently, slumping forward, but Jungkook wasn't done.
"I said—WHO SENT YOU?!"
Another blow.
Eunwoo took a cautious step forward, murmuring, "He's not going to talk with pain alone, sir."
Jungkook breathed heavily, then reached into his coat and pulled out a thick envelope. He dropped it on the ground in front of the sniper with a thud.
"One million. Cash. Offshore. If you talk now."
The man stared at it like it was a dream he never expected to see again.
He licked his bloodied lips. Then, with a hoarse laugh, he rasped, "A woman. Pretty. Rich. Angry."
Jungkook steps closer.
"Name."
"Choi... Seoyoon."
Jungkook body relaxed in satisfaction and rage. His jaw locked, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. The rage that surged through his chest was beyond anything he'd ever known. It wasn't just fury—it was justice.
"She paid me well. Didn't tell me the kid's name... just told me to search for Kim Taehyungie's background.
Jungkook's breath hitched. That's how she knew.
He was going to lose control. His daughter nearly died!
Eunwoo, sensing the danger, quickly stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's enough. The police are on their way."
Right on cue, red and blue lights flashed against the grimy warehouse walls. Sirens howled in the distance, growing louder.
The doors burst open and officers stormed in. Eunwoo handed them the recording, nodding. "It's all there. Signed, sealed, delivered."
The sniper didn't struggle as they dragged him away, perhaps finally realizing what it meant to cross Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook didn't wait. He turned, coat billowing behind him, rage propelling him forward as he climbed into his car and sped toward the Choi mansion.
--
The Jeon car screeched to a halt outside the grand Choi estate. Jungkook leapt out, barely waiting for the guards to register his presence.
He stormed through the doors, eyes wild, breath ragged.
"SEOOYON!" he roared, voice thundering through the marble halls. "CHOI SEOYOON!"
The maids flinched. Fear evident in their faces.
One of them had the courage to intercept him, bowing quickly.
"M-Master Jeon... she... she's gone."
Jungkook froze.
"What?"
"She left three days ago, sir. Took a private jet. We don't know where. She didn't leave any details."
He stood there, stunned, chest heaving.
Gone?
"She ran," he whispered to himself. "She fled..."
His knees nearly buckled as a scream of frustration tore from his throat. He punched the wall beside him, the crack echoing.
Seoyoon had slipped through his fingers.
But not for long.
As he turned back to leave, his voice was cold, trembling with wrath.
"Run all you want, Seoyoon. I will find you. And when I do..."
He didn't need to finish.
The silence in the mansion answered for him.
--
Jeon Tower
The Jeon Tower was eerily quiet at midnight. Only the sound of the wind hitting the glass panes and the hum of the monitors in the security hub could be heard. Jungkook stood before the wall of screens in his private office, the glow painting sharp shadows on his tired, furious face.
Eunwoo entered, files in hand, expression grim.
"We've traced the private jet," he said, tossing a thin file onto the desk. "It was headed for Greece. But..." he paused.
Jungkook looked up sharply. "But what?"
"There's no record of her arrival. The jet landed, yes. But Choi Seoyoon didn't pass through immigration. No surveillance footage. No customs log. It's like she disappeared midair."
Jungkook clenched his jaw. "She's hiding. Somewhere. She's not that smart, just well-connected. Use the Interpol channel. Bribe airport security, if needed. I want every trace, Eunwoo."
Eunwoo nodded but didn't move. His face remained tense.
"There's more," he finally added. "Two hours ago, I got a call from a Greek intelligence source."
Jungkook's stare intensified.
"They found a body."
Silence.
Jungkook's fingers stilled on the desk. "Whose."
"A woman. Burnt in a car explosion along the cliffs near the Aegean Sea. High-end jewelry melted into the skin. Some... matched pieces Choi Seoyoon wore often. It was her jet. Her driver. Her car."
The room spun for a moment. Jungkook stepped back, like someone had sucked all the oxygen from the space around him.
Dead?
Seoyoon... dead?
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "She wouldn't go down that easy. Not after everything she did. She wouldn't just... die."
"There's a possibility it was staged," Eunwoo said gently. "But the body was female, right build. It would've had to be someone else if it was a decoy. But there was only one body in that car."
"And no witnesses," Jungkook muttered.
Eunwoo sighed. "I'm having DNA analysis done. But if it's her..."
He didn't finish.
Jungkook looked away, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms.
"She was supposed to face justice," he said bitterly. "She almost killed my daughter. She planned it. Laughed about it. And now..."
His voice cracked.
"She gets to run away from the consequences."
Eunwoo stepped closer. "Sometimes, karma collects in silence, boss."
Jungkook gave a bitter laugh. "Then it's too silent for me."
He turned to face the window, staring out into the Seoul skyline. It should have felt like victory. But all he felt was the hollowness of a storm that ended with no one to stand before the wreckage.
"She's gone..." he whispered.
But in the back of his mind, a single doubt clung to him.
What if it wasn't her?
The next morning
Kim Residence
The quietness in the Kim residence was unsettling. The kind of silence that crept in only after a storm, or after death. In this case—it was both.
Jungkook sat stiffly in the living room, a glass of untouched water in his hand, his jaw tense, his eyes hollow. Across from him, Namjoon stood with arms crossed, body radiating a mixture of exhaustion and veiled hostility. Taehyungie hadn't come downstairs yet.
The children were already asleep, unaware that the man they now called "daddy" had just walked through the shadows of revenge and found... nothing at the end of it.
Jungkook muttered. "We got to know after a lot of investigation, the police arrested him."
Namjoon didn't respond for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, he murmured, "So it's over?"
Jungkook shook his head. "No. That was just the beginning. We don't know who ordered him. That sniper—he knew things, but I think there's more."
Namjoon narrowed his eyes. "You're saying the twins are still in danger?"
"I don't think," Jungkook said quietly. "I know."
Footsteps echoed down the stairs. Taehyungie entered, arms folded over her chest. Her eyes didn't meet Jungkook's.
"You called me down?" she said, her voice clipped.
Jungkook stood. "We need to leave this house."
Taehyungie blinked. "What?"
"I already arranged it. Security, transport, the house. It's safer. You, me, the twins—we'll be somewhere no one else can find."
"No." Her voice cracked like glass. "Absolutely not."
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "Taehyungie, listen to me—"
"I am listening. And I'm saying no." She clenched her fists. "You came here uninvited, you disrupted everything, and now you want to—what? Take over our lives?"
"I'm trying to protect them!" he exploded. "Our daughter was shot, Taehyungie. We nearly lost her. You think I can sit here and risk that again? You think I can walk away and pretend everything's safe just because one threat is gone?"
Taehyungie faltered, her breath catching. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
Jungkook stepped closer, voice lower, desperate.
"This isn't about us. Not right now. This is about them. Our children. Our family."
Taehyungie flinched at the word family.
"I lost the chance to be their father once. I won't lose the chance to protect them."
Namjoon, quiet all this time, finally spoke. "Where is this place?"
Jungkook turned to him. "A private villa just outside the city. Remote. Fully surveilled. Guards stationed around the clock. Only a few people know its location."
Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples. "As much as I hate to say it... he's right."
Taehyungie's eyes snapped to him, betrayal dancing across her face. "Namjoon..."
He walked to her, placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "I don't like this either. But think about it. If even Jungkook is scared, then there must be something coming. And I'd rather you be angry and alive than brave and hurt."
Tears clung to her lashes.
Jungkook took a cautious step forward. "You don't have to forgive me. You don't even have to talk to me. Just... let me be their shield. That's all I ask."
The silence was thunderous.
Taehyungie's voice, when it came, was fragile. "I hate this. I hate you." Her eyes flicked up to his. "But I love my children more."
Jungkook nodded slowly.
"I'll have the cars here by morning."
--
The sun had barely risen, casting a gentle gold over the Kim residence. The atmosphere, however, was far from peaceful. There was tension in the air—a strange mix of dread and reluctant acceptance.
Two black SUVs idled quietly outside the gate, their engines humming. The twins, dressed in matching hoodies and backpacks shaped like animals—Hyun's a little tiger, Taeri's a bunny—stood between Taehyungie and Jungkook, clutching their favorite plush toys.
Inside, the adults were gathered.
Jinnie knelt down in front of Taeri, smoothing down a wisp of her hair. "You be good, okay? Listen to your mama. And your... daddy."
Taeri nodded solemnly, but then threw her arms around Jinnie's neck. "I'll miss you, aunty Jinnie."
Jinnie hugged her tightly. "I'll miss you more, baby bun."
Hyun turned to Jiminie next, puffing out his cheeks. "You promised to teach me how to dance!"
Jiminie chuckled through a watery smile. "And I still will, tiger. As soon as you're back, we'll do a full show. Deal?"
"Deal!" Hyun beamed and hugged Jiminie tightly. Jiminie's arms folded around the small boy with more emotion than she expected.
Then Hyun turned to Namjoon.
"Uncle Joonie..." he mumbled. "Don't be sad."
Namjoon crouched down, eyes glossy, and wrapped both twins into a bear hug. "You two are so strong. Braver than most people I know. Take care of each other, okay?"
"We will!" Taeri and Hyun chorused.
Jungkook watched silently, his throat tight. Despite everything, the twins were loved here. They were happy here. And yet... safety meant taking them away.
Taehyungie walked up to Jinnie, Jiminie, and Namjoon, her expression heavy but calm. "Thank you... for everything. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."
Jinnie hugged her wordlessly. Jiminie gave her a long look, then pulled her into a firm embrace. Namjoon grunted softly, pulling her in last. "You'll always have a home here. No matter what."
Taehyungie nodded with teary eyes, then turned to walk the children to the car.
Jungkook opened the backseat door and helped the twins in, checking their seatbelts. Taeri gave him a sleepy smile. "Can we watch cartoons in the car, daddy?"
Jungkook felt his heart swell at the word. "Of course, princess."
Taehyungie hesitated before sliding in beside them. Jungkook paused for a beat—his eyes landing on the house, the people who had stood beside her all these years.
Then he looked at Namjoon.
There was no forgiveness in Namjoon's eyes, but there was understanding.
Jungkook gave him a short, respectful nod—then got into the car.
As the SUV pulled out of the gates, the twins waved excitedly through the window. Jinnie, Jiminie, and Namjoon waved back, standing side by side.
As the Kim residence faded from view, a silence settled in the car.
But then, Taeri giggled.
"Hyunie, did you bring your walkie-talkie? We can talk to aunty Jinnie tonight!"
Taehyungie smiled softly, and Jungkook finally allowed himself to breathe.
They were on their way to safety.
But none of them knew that the past would still find ways to echo into the present.
--
The SUV cruised through the outskirts of the city, then up a narrow, winding road bordered by tall trees. The dense greenery opened to reveal a large, modern house nestled at the top of a private hill—glass, wood, and stone perfectly blended into the landscape. Discreet, secure, and silent.
"Woah..." Hyun pressed his nose against the car window. "Is this a castle?"
"It's a house," Taeri corrected proudly. "But a really big one."
Jungkook parked and immediately stepped out to survey the area. Two guards hidden in black suits nodded at him from the shadows. He returned a curt nod. This place had been checked, re-checked, and tripled in security. No one would get through this time.
Taehyungie stepped out of the car, clutching Taeri's small pink backpack as Hyun came bounding after her.
"Are we gonna live here forever?" Hyun asked, eyes wide as the door opened automatically.
"No," Taehyungie answered softly, brushing his hair back. "Just until it's safe again."
The interior was sleek and warm. Open-plan living room, tall windows overlooking the forest, plush white rugs, soft yellow lighting. Rooms already prepped for the twins—Jungkook had made sure.
The twins ran ahead, disappearing into their new playroom with a shout of delight. Jungkook watched them, his chest aching, eyes heavy with exhaustion—but there was relief in him too.
"They like it," he said, turning to Taehyungie.
She was tense beside him, arms crossed. "That's the least they deserve."
Jungkook nodded. "I'll stay out of your way."
Taehyungie didn't answer. She just walked away—to check on the twins.
But even as she disappeared down the hallway, she knew.
There was no way to stay away from Jungkook now.
Later That Night
The house was quiet. The twins had finally fallen asleep—Hyun clutching a toy dinosaur, Taeri curled beneath her pink comforter, one arm flung over her stuffed bunny.
Taehyungie stood in the hallway for a long time, just watching their breathing. Watching the peace she fought so hard to protect.
Then she turned—and froze.
Jungkook was standing behind her, his frame silhouetted by the dim hallway light. His shirt was wrinkled, top buttons undone, and the bags under his eyes were darker than usual.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he murmured.
"You didn't," she replied flatly, even though her heart had jumped.
For a moment, silence. Heavy and strange. Then—
"They're safe," Jungkook said, voice low. "We did the right thing."
Taehyungie gave a soft, bitter chuckle. "Did we? Because I remember not wanting to see your face again. And yet—here we are."
Jungkook looked at her. Really looked. "I'm not trying to take your place, Taehyungie. I just want to be in their lives... if you'll let me."
She turned toward him slowly, arms crossing her chest. "Let you?" Her voice shook with quiet resentment. "You think I'm just going to forget how you left me alone? How you told me to abort them? How I cried every night while carrying them?"
"I know," Jungkook said brokenly, stepping closer. "And I regret every moment of it. Every second. I was young, scared, angry—but that doesn't excuse it. I made the worst decision of my life and I've been paying for it ever since."
She looked away, jaw clenched.
Jungkook's voice softened, desperate. "But they—they're everything. I look at them and I see you. I see what I missed. I see what I want to protect with my life now."
Taehyungie finally looked at him again, her eyes glassy. "You can't just show up and act like a father because guilt's eating you alive."
"I'm not," he said. "I'm showing up because I am their father—and because I still love you."
Her breath caught.
Jungkook's eyes shined with sincerity, sorrow, and something that looked dangerously close to hope. But Taehyungie didn't say anything. She just stepped back.
"You should go to sleep," she whispered. "We have a long day tomorrow."
And just like that, she left him in the hallway—heart still raw, hope still burning, and regret hanging thick in the air.
--
The golden sun seeped through the floor-length curtains, casting warm rays across the polished wood floors of the living room. A calm silence blanketed the house—an unfamiliar but welcome peace after weeks of fear, chaos, and near-death.
Taehyungie was the first to wake. She moved quietly around the kitchen in her soft robe, tying her hair back, letting the kettle boil slowly. The silence almost scared her. No ambulance sirens. No panic. No doctors. Just the steady beat of her heart and the chirping of morning birds.
She turned when she heard soft footsteps behind her.
Jungkook, tousle-haired and shirt slightly wrinkled, entered the kitchen rubbing his eyes. He paused when he saw her. For a moment, they just stood there.
"Morning," he said softly.
Taehyungie gave a small nod, barely above a whisper. "Morning."
She turned back to the tea. Jungkook watched her from behind, taking in the gentle arch of her back, the way she moved like she belonged—even in a place so new. He wanted to say more. But he stayed silent.
Moments later, the sound of tiny feet scampering down the hallway broke the stillness.
"Mommyyy!" Taeri called out, running into the kitchen, her hair bouncing in loose pigtails. "I'm hungry!"
"I want toast with jam!" Hyun chimed in, hot on her heels.
Taehyungie turned, smiling softly at her children. "You'll both get breakfast. Sit at the counter."
They scrambled onto the stools, giggling as they argued over which cup they wanted to use. Jungkook watched from the doorway, a tired smile creeping onto his face.
"Daddy, come!" Taeri squealed, waving him over.
Jungkook blinked. "Me?"
"Yes!" Taeri said confidently. "You always sit next to me!"
He walked slowly toward them and sat between the two children. Taehyungie placed two plates in front of them—fruit slices, warm toast, and boiled eggs. She didn't speak to Jungkook, but she made him a cup of black coffee and set it down without a word.
The gesture made Jungkook pause.
Hyun tugged at his sleeve. "Can we go outside after breakfast? There's a slide!"
Jungkook smiled, brushing Hyun's hair back. "If your mother says yes."
Taehyungie, sipping her tea quietly from across the counter, finally looked at them. At her children. At the man she once trusted with everything. Her chest tightened.
"They can. But wear jackets—it's chilly out."
Jungkook nodded.
There was a brief, fragile silence as they all ate. Four people at a breakfast table, breathing the same air, living under the same roof—for now.
And for a split second... it almost felt like a family.
Taehyungie felt it. Jungkook felt it.
But neither dared say it out loud.
--
The small garden behind the safe house was bathed in early sunlight, the dew still glistening on the grass. Jungkook stood under the pear tree, jacket unzipped, watching his children with quiet wonder.
Taeri spun around with her arms out like a little ballerina, her healing wound a faint memory under the brightness of her joy. "Look, Daddy! I'm a princess!" she beamed.
Hyun zoomed past in a cardboard spaceship helmet, shouting, "And I'm saving her from aliens!"
Jungkook chuckled, crouching down. "Then I'll be the royal knight protecting you both."
"Nooo," Taeri giggled. "You're the bunny king!"
He laughed so hard his dimples appeared. "Bunny king? Seriously?"
"Yup!" Hyun grinned. "With your big teeth!"
Jungkook pretended to pout. "I thought I was cool."
"You are," Taeri said sweetly, reaching up to cup his cheek. "The coolest daddy ever."
That simple sentence knocked the air out of Jungkook.
He blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in his throat. The words, "coolest daddy ever," lingered in his ears like music. For all the years lost—he had this. Now. Here.
He scooped both kids into his arms and twirled them around until they were breathless with laughter.
From the patio door, Taehyungie watched. Her arms were crossed, but her heart was open. For all the pain she endured, this image—their father, her children, in laughter—dug deep under her skin and ached. She couldn't deny it any longer: they looked whole with him.
And he... looked right with them.
Later that evening, after the twins had been tucked into their new beds, and the house had fallen into a comforting hush, Taehyungie walked into the living room with a book in her hand. But Jungkook was already there, shirt loose, sitting by the window, sipping tea.
She paused. He looked up.
"They're asleep?" he asked gently.
Taehyungie nodded. "Out like a light."
He smiled. "Hyun refused to let go of my hand."
Taehyungie looked down at her book, avoiding his gaze. "They've... grown attached."
"I've grown attached too," he murmured.
She flinched. Silence stretched.
"Taehyungie..."
Her eyes lifted slowly. "What?"
Jungkook rose from his seat and walked toward her, his steps tentative.
"You don't have to forgive me now," he said, voice thick with emotion. "But I need you to know—I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I see you now, stronger than ever. Beautiful. Brave. And I hate myself for walking away... for all the pain I caused."
Taehyungie's heart fluttered and she hated it. "You did more than walk away, Jungkook. You told me to get rid of them. You left me when I needed you most."
"I know." His voice cracked. "And it's the biggest regret of my life."
He reached out gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. But she flinched backwards, her stomach flipping.
Her eyes narrowed, not cruel, but wounded. "Jungkook, you can't keep showing up with those words like they're enough."
"I know," he said, voice barely a breath. "But I told you—I'll never stop asking for forgiveness. Not until you look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel anything anymore."
"I already did," she snapped, though it came out shakier than she intended.
He stepped closer, slowly, respecting the distance. "Then why do your eyes still soften when I talk to them? Why do you stand outside their door just to listen?"
Taehyungie didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Jungkook's voice dipped even lower. "Just... don't shut me out, Taehyungie. Not completely."
She turned away, her voice cold. "I already have."
But Jungkook saw the way her fingers curled against her palm, how her breath faltered.
And he knew... that was a lie.
A lie they were both still holding onto.
"I will spend every day earning back your trust," he whispered. "I swear it."
Neither moved.
For one fleeting moment, in the silence of their home, a spark flickered—fragile and tentative, but very real.
--
It was a rare sunny day in Seoul. The skies were crisp and clear, the warmth of spring coaxing families to parks and open spaces. Taehyungie hadn't planned it—but Taeri had begged.
"Please, mama! Just a little sunshine day," she had chirped, twirling in her fluffy yellow cardigan. Taehyun nodded with excitement, already gripping his toy binoculars. And when Jungkook offered to drive, Taehyungie didn't fight it.
So here they were—on a checkered blanket beneath blooming trees in a quiet park just outside the city. Other families dotted the grounds, but none as magnetic as theirs.
The twins ran around, laughing, kicking a soft ball between them. Jungkook helped set out snacks and drinks, shooting occasional glances at Taehyungie, who sat silently beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree, sunglasses hiding her eyes.
"They're so happy," Jungkook said quietly, watching the twins with a fond smile.
"They're children," Taehyungie replied without looking at him. "They find joy in the little things."
"But not all children grow up with that," Jungkook said, his voice a thread of guilt. "I missed five years of their joy. And I can never take that back."
Taehyungie turned to him slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. "You didn't just miss it, Jungkook. You ran from it."
The words stung, and he swallowed hard.
A gust of wind ruffled the petals above, and Taeri squealed, running toward them. "Mama, daddy, come play tag!"
Jungkook instinctively opened his arms, and Taeri flung herself at him. Taehyun followed, collapsing dramatically beside his sister.
"You okay, buddy?" Jungkook asked, chuckling.
Taehyun beamed. "I'm a tired tiger. Tigers nap after running."
He leaned into Jungkook's side, and Jungkook wrapped his arms around both of them. Taehyungie stared, unable to ignore the warmth in her chest.
She stood to gather some fruit for the kids, but before she could, Jungkook looked up and asked, "Taehyungie... could we maybe do this more often? Not for us. For them."
She paused.
Her eyes scanned the sight: their children—her children—nestled between the man who'd broken her heart, and the man who now looked at them like he'd give his life to protect them.
Taehyungie walked over and crouched down, handing each of the twins a slice of orange. "We'll see," she said quietly.
Then Taeri spoke up, voice muffled by fruit. "I like it when mama and daddy smile at each other."
Silence.
Taehyungie froze mid-movement. Jungkook didn't dare breathe. Taehyun blinked innocently. "Me too," he added. "It makes the sky look brighter."
Taehyungie stood abruptly and turned away, her jaw tight.
Jungkook stood too, not touching her, but close enough for her to hear his whisper.
"I'll wait. For that smile. However long it takes."
She didn't respond—but didn't walk away either.
And maybe that was enough for today.
--
It was a quiet evening at the new residence—a luxurious yet warm space Jungkook had secured for them, complete with a garden and dedicated playroom. Dinner was done, and the twins were in their shared room, tucked under soft blankets. But neither of them was sleepy.
"Taehyun," Taeri whispered, rolling over to face her brother. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
She hesitated. "Do you think mama and daddy... were always together? Like other mamas and daddies?"
Taehyun blinked. "I don't know. Mama cries sometimes when she thinks we're sleeping. I heard her once."
Taeri frowned. "Daddy does too. I saw him once in his car. I think he thinks we don't know."
They were quiet for a beat before Taehyun threw off the covers. "Let's ask them."
Taeri gasped. "Now?"
Taehyun nodded. "Now."
They padded out of bed in matching pajamas, clutching their plushies, and tiptoed down the hallway. The lights in the living room were dimmed, a soft golden glow lighting the room where Jungkook sat on the couch, flipping through files. Taehyungie was in the adjoining kitchen, stirring warm milk for herself.
"Daddy?" Taeri's voice piped up.
Jungkook turned quickly, surprised. "Princess, you should be in bed."
"We have a question," Taehyun said, more serious than usual.
Taehyungie turned at that too, eyebrows furrowed.
Jungkook set the files aside. "Okay... What is it?"
Taehyun walked over, tugging Taeri along. "Did you and mama love each other before we were born?"
The air stilled. Silence fell like a weight.
Taehyungie visibly tensed. Jungkook's heart thudded so hard it echoed in his ears.
Taeri tilted her head. "Because sometimes... I see you look at mama like you're about to cry."
"Why did you stop loving each other?" Taehyun asked gently.
Taehyungie's lips parted, but no sound came out. She looked at Jungkook, who was already looking at her with a haunted softness.
Jungkook swallowed. "We did... love each other. A lot. More than anything in the world."
Taeri smiled softly, but Taehyun frowned. "So what happened?"
Taehyungie took a step forward and kneeled in front of them. "Sometimes... even people who love each other make mistakes." Jungkook freezes and looks at her.
"Big mistakes," Jungkook forced out, voice low. "And sometimes... we don't get to fix them right away."
"Do you love mama now?" Taeri asked Jungkook, her eyes wide and honest.
Jungkook froze.
Taehyungie stood slowly.
Jungkook's eyes didn't move from Taeri's. "Yes," he said, his voice cracking. "I never stopped."
Taehyungie's breath hitched.
"But that doesn't mean things are easy," Taehyungie said tightly, not looking at him. "Some mistakes... they leave scars. Even if the heart remembers love."
The twins exchanged a glance.
"Can we... help?" Taehyun asked softly. "We want you to be happy together."
Taehyungie dropped her gaze. Jungkook's jaw clenched, eyes glassy. "No sweetheart. There is no need. Just focus on your cute little antics" she pinched his cheeks. They giggle but Jungkook smile dims.
"You help us just by being here," Jungkook whispered, kneeling to gather them both into his arms. "You and your sister... you're everything to me."
"Now, now go to bed you little troubles" Taehyungie playfully scolds them. The kids shriek and run to their room.
Silence hovered as Jungkook watches Taehyungie empty her glass, washes it before heading to her room.
A sad smile appears on his face.
--
Morning sunlight spilled softly through the hallway windows of the Jeon–Kim residence. The house was just beginning to stir—birds chirping faintly outside, and the soft hum of life waking within.
Taehyungie padded through the hallway in her silk robe, hair tousled from sleep, heading toward the kitchen. Her mind was still groggy, focused on coffee and silence. She turned a corner sharply—right into a wall of muscle.
"Oof—!"
With a thud, she crashed straight into someone. Strong arms wrapped around her instinctively, steadying her before she could fall backwards.
Jungkook.
Also groggy. Shirtless. His toned chest bare and warm from sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of loose joggers. His hair was slightly messy, jaw still marked with a faint shadow of stubble.
"Shit—sorry," he mumbled, blinking down at her.
Taehyungie's breath caught.
In the sudden impact, her robe had loosened slightly at the chest, revealing a delicate sliver of skin, the gentle curve of her cleavage peeking through. Jungkook's eyes—traitorous, unprepared—flickered downward for just a second too long before snapping back up to her flushed face.
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Yah—!" she shrieked, pushing hard at his chest. "Get off!"
He stumbled back, hands in the air, but as she tried to storm past him in embarrassment, her foot caught on the edge of the rug.
"Tae—!"
She slipped.
But before gravity could win, Jungkook caught her again—this time, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other bracing her lower back. Her hands landed on his bare chest, their faces mere inches apart.
Neither of them moved.
Breathing. Staring.
Taehyungie's heartbeat thundered in her chest—too loud, too wild. She could feel the heat of his skin against her palm, and she hated the way her body still remembered his touch.
Jungkook swallowed, jaw tight. "You okay?" he asked hoarsely.
Before she could answer, a door creaked open at the end of the hallway.
"Daddy?" a tiny voice called out—Taeri's.
The spell broke.
They jerked apart instantly, Taehyungie fixing her robe with fumbling fingers while Jungkook stepped back like he'd been burned.
"Coming!" Jungkook called, voice cracking slightly.
Taehyungie turned on her heel without another word, disappearing into the other hallway.
But her flushed cheeks and racing pulse stayed behind.
So did Jungkook's trembling hands.
And both were left wondering what would've happened if that door hadn't opened.
--
Later that morning...
Taehyungie sat on the edge of her bed, robe now securely tied. But her fingers still trembled as they twisted in her lap. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image.
The way Jungkook's arms had felt wrapped around her waist. The scent of his skin — faintly citrus and something musky, heartbreakingly familiar. The heat of his body, the way he'd looked down at her, surprised, but captivated.
The way she had frozen.
"What the hell was that..." she whispered to herself.
Her cheeks warmed again at the memory of his gaze dipping — just for a second — to her exposed chest. Her initial fury had risen like fire, but now all she could feel was... confusion.
Why had her heart skipped?
Why hadn't she pushed him sooner?
Taehyungie shook her head, rising to pace. "It meant nothing. Just an accident," she muttered firmly.
But it didn't feel like nothing.
And the look in his eyes didn't either.
Jungkook's Bathroom
Steam curled around Jungkook as the water poured over him, hot enough to sting. He leaned against the cold tile, jaw clenched, lips parted slightly as droplets traced down his neck and chest.
But no amount of heat could erase the moment.
He could still feel her.
The press of her body against his. The faint gasp she made. The way her eyes had widened when she saw where his gaze had landed. The sharp push—then the stumble—and then her hands on his chest.
Her skin. Her scent.
The way she'd looked up at him like she wanted to slap him.
He let out a ragged breath, hitting the wall lightly with a fist.
"God..., " he whispered into the steam. "You hate me. I ruined us."
But even in her anger, her distance... there had been a flicker. A flame.
He saw it.
And it scared him more than anything — because it meant there was still something left to lose.
Or worse... something he still hoped to win.
Elsewhere, in that quiet morning, they both stood in different rooms, hearts racing, minds spinning.
And neither could stop thinking about the moment that almost became something more.
--
The morning sunlight streamed gently into the cozy villa kitchen. The sound of birds chirping mingled with the soft clinking of cutlery as the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air.
Jungkook was already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, flipping pancakes. He was focused, brows furrowed in concentration, though it was clear he wasn't used to the domesticity. Occasionally, he'd glance toward the hallway.
Taehyungie entered, wearing a loose linen blouse and soft pajama pants. Her hair was tied into a low ponytail, and sleep still lingered in her eyes. When she saw him cooking, she paused, the sight stirring something deep inside her — a conflicting blend of nostalgia and resistance.
Taehyun and Taeri followed behind her, bounding into the room in matching slippers.
"Pancakes!" Taeri cheered, hopping into a chair.
"Daddy made them!" Taehyun added proudly.
Jungkook gave a small smile, handing them each a plate. "Eat slowly, they're hot."
Taehyungie poured herself a cup of tea, trying not to react to the way Jungkook's shirt clung to his arms or how domestic he looked standing in her space — their space, now.
She sat across from the twins, silent. She hadn't addressed Jungkook all morning.
"Good morning," he said softly, his voice hesitant but hopeful.
She looked at him briefly. "Morning."
The silence stretched.
"I added strawberries. Thought they'd like that," he added, gesturing to the fruit bowl.
Taehyungie nodded coolly. "They do."
The twins chatted between bites, talking about their dreams, their toys, how they wanted to go to the beach soon. Jungkook smiled, responding to every question, wiping syrup from Taeri's cheek when it smudged.
Taehyung watched the interaction with tightly pressed lips. The way he was so effortlessly fitting into their lives—it terrified her.
"I packed some school books," Jungkook said casually, as the kids finished. "Thought we could ease them into studying a little."
Taehyungie raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you know how to raise children?"
There was bite in her tone. Jungkook didn't flinch.
"I don't," he said honestly. "But I'm learning... fast."
Taeri tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mama... Daddy's pancakes are really good."
Taehyungie looked down at her daughter and gave a tight smile. "Then I'm glad."
Jungkook rose to clear the plates. "I'll do the dishes."
"You don't have to," Taehyungie said, standing too.
"I want to," he replied, meeting her eyes.
For a moment, they just stared. There was so much unsaid, years of pain and distance compressed into the narrow space between them.
Taehyungie turned away. "Suit yourself."
Jungkook watched her walk to the twins, who were now playing near the living room. His jaw tightened. He knew he had a long way to go.
He whispered to himself, "I'll keep trying... no matter how many cold mornings it takes."
--
Water sloshed gently in the tub as Taeri splashed around with her ducky, giggling, her cheeks rosy from the warmth.
"Hyunie!" she called, "come on! It's fun!"
But Taehyun stood at the doorway in his little towel, arms crossed and brows furrowed deeply.
"No! I don't want to! I hate baths!" he snapped, pouting as he stomped his foot.
Taehyungie pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaustion clinging to her like the heat in the room. She had been trying to stay calm all day, but the tension that built since morning — the closeness of Jungkook, the weight of everything — was starting to unravel her.
"Taehyun, I'm not going to say it again," she warned, crouching down in front of him. "Get in the tub. Now."
"I don't wanna!" he wailed. "It's boring and cold after and I wanna play with my cars!"
"Taehyun—" her voice sharpened, and before she could catch herself, her tone snapped.
"Enough! Stop acting like a spoiled brat and just get in the tub!"
Taehyun's eyes widened, his small mouth trembling, and his cheeks flushed red. His fists clenched, not in anger — in the effort to hold back tears. His bottom lip wobbled, and he looked between his mother and the tub, betrayed and hurt.
At that exact moment, Jungkook emerged from the hallway, his brows knitted in concern. He had been in his study, going over villa security updates when the sharp voice pierced through the walls.
"Taehyungie?" he called gently, and then he saw the scene — Taehyun frozen in place, visibly shaking, and Taehyungie still kneeling, her expression tight and drawn.
"What happened?" he asked quietly, stepping forward.
Taehyungie didn't look at him. She stood up abruptly, brushing her palms against her pants. "He refused to bathe."
Jungkook crouched beside his son, reaching out. "Hey... buddy. What's wrong?"
Taehyun sniffled, eyes darting toward Taehyungie. "Mama yelled."
Jungkook's jaw twitched. "Tae... maybe just take it easy, yeah? He's just a kid—"
But Taehyungie whipped around at him, her voice hard with pent-up frustration.
"Don't. Don't tell me how to raise the children I've been raising alone for five years."
Jungkook's mouth parted slightly, caught off guard.
"You think parenting is swooping in after half a decade and catering to every tantrum and whim? It's not." Her voice cracked slightly. "It's patience. And discipline. And love. All at once. And I'm tired, Jungkook. So tired."
There was silence — thick and uncomfortable. Even the water stilled in the tub behind them.
Jungkook looked at her, really looked — at the shadows under her eyes, the weariness in her stance, the way she cradled the weight of too much. His chest ached.
He swallowed hard. "I'm not trying to take over. I just... I want to help. I want to do better."
Taehyungie didn't respond. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and she turned to the door.
"You want to help?" she said without looking back. "Get him into the bath. He listens to you anyway."
She disappeared down the hallway.
Jungkook turned to Taehyun, whose little sniffles had calmed.
"Come on, champ," Jungkook said softly, lifting him. "How about I let you use extra bubbles?"
Taehyun nodded slowly, his arms wrapping around Jungkook's neck as he carried him into the bathroom.
And in the distance, behind a closed door, Taehyungie leaned against the wall, her eyes shut, trying not to cry.
--
Late Morning
Inside, soft voices echoed through the cozy living room where Taehyun and Taeri sat curled on a plush rug, eyes wide and transfixed by the educational animation playing on the screen. They giggled at the dancing alphabet letters, dressed neatly in the cute outfits Jungkook had helped them put on earlier.
Jungkook stood near the archway, arms folded, gaze not on the screen — but outside. Through the wide sliding doors, the shimmer of sunlight reflected off the villa's private pool, casting glints of gold across the terrace. And there — standing still, hair tousled by the breeze — was Taehyungie.
Her silhouette was still. Distant.
He exhaled slowly, walking out, each step hesitant as if the distance between them weighed more than it looked.
"Hey..." he said gently.
Taehyungie didn't look at him.
"Kids are watching their space letters thing again," he said, attempting a soft chuckle.
Still nothing.
He moved beside her, watching the ripples in the water dance beneath the light. "I didn't mean to step on your toes earlier. I just... I hate seeing them upset. Especially now."
Taehyungie sighed, slow and cold. "They'll be fine."
There was silence for a beat. Then Jungkook tried again, voice low. "I'm sorry, Taehyungie. For everything. Back then... I know I don't deserve to say it, but I need you to hear it anyway."
She finally turned her head, just slightly — her eyes tired but sharp. "Why now?"
His brows pulled together.
"You did your dare," she continued, each word laced in pain. "You played the game. Slept with me. Broke me. Then you left. So why now, Jungkook?"
He froze, lips parted. "Tae..."
She shook her head, bitter laughter in her breath. "You had five years. Five. Not one call. Not one message. Not even when I left."
"I-- i tried to contact you but Namjoon hyung never... I wanted to tell you it didn't feel like a dare," he said hoarsely. "Not to me. That night—Tae, I was so messed up but it meant so much to me."
She looked away again, arms folded over her chest. Her voice trembled, though she kept it cold.
"Then why didn't you stay?"
Jungkook swallowed hard. "I was scared. My father, my future, your silence. I thought staying away would keep you safe. I thought it was the right thing."
Taehyungie gave him a sharp look. "Don't you dare put this on me."
"I'm not," he whispered.
She took a step back. "So what now? You want to parent with me? Be a family? How long before the investigation ends, and we go our separate ways?"
Jungkook's face crumpled slightly.
"Because that's what we are, Jungkook. Temporary. Your presence here — temporary. Once the dust settles, you'll return to your world. And I'll stay in mine."
He stared at her, unable to say anything as the wind carried the scent of chlorine and spring blossoms between them. She turned from him and walked back inside without another word.
Left alone, Jungkook looked down at the water, his reflection rippling and unsteady — just like everything between them.
--
Taehyun sat on the fluffy carpet near the TV, little arms crossed over his chest, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. The cartoon was still playing, but his eyes weren't on the screen anymore. Taeri, sitting beside him with her blanket, kept peeking at her twin and nudging his arm in concern.
In the kitchen, Jungkook stood quietly, drying his hands with a towel. His eyes flicked to the hallway just as Taehyungie walked in, her robe tied tighter around her waist, face slightly red — not from anger, but from guilt.
She paused, seeing her son's slumped posture, and something inside her crumbled.
Soft footsteps brought her down to his level. She knelt beside him, brushing back the strands of hair that curled over his forehead.
"Taehyun-ah," she said gently.
He didn't look at her.
She reached out and cupped his small cheeks. "Sweetheart... I'm so sorry for raising my voice earlier."
His eyes flickered toward her. Her voice cracked as she continued.
"I shouldn't have yelled at you. Mama was just... tired and worried and that's not your fault, okay?" She kissed his forehead gently. "You're my good boy. Always."
He blinked at her, then flung his little arms around her neck.
"I'm sorry too, mama. I didn't mean to scream when you told me to bathe..."
She chuckled softly, hugging him tight. "I know, baby. And I love you, no matter what."
Behind them, Jungkook stood quietly near the hallway, watching with a tender, unreadable expression. A lump formed in his throat at the sight — of Taehyungie's soft voice, her warmth, the way she soothed their child.
She was everything he wished he had been all along.
And now, he could only hope it wasn't too late.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 22: Tangled Hearts
Chapter Text
Late Evening
The moon hung low and quiet over the villa, casting a silver glow through the windows. The villa was peaceful—until two persistent voices disrupted the silence.
"Mamaaa, we want to sleep with you," Taeri whined, hugging a bunny plush.
Taehyun mirrored her, tugging on Jungkook's hand. "And Daddy too! Please!"
Taehyungie's brows furrowed instantly. "No. You two have your room and you'll—"
"Mama..." Taeri pouted with her big doe eyes.
Taehyun folded his arms, lower lip trembling. "But... we want a family sleepover. Just this once."
Taehyungie wanted to say no. She possibly can't spend a night with Jungkook in the same room. She rubbed her temple as the twins stared up at her with imploring, glistening eyes.
"Fine," she muttered.
"Yay!" the twins squealed in unison, already running toward the master bedroom.
Master Bedroom
The large bed now hosted the family of four. The twins were nestled between their parents. Jungkook lay on one side, arm tucked behind his head, his gaze soft as he watched Taehyungie's profile.
Taehyungie gently tapped Taeri and Taehyun's backs in rhythmic motion, humming quietly until their eyelids drooped.
Jungkook's heart ached and fluttered at the same time. Watching her like this—the quiet strength, the gentle patience, the pure maternal warmth—brought back memories of everything he'd lost... and everything he yearned to protect.
She didn't turn to him. But he never looked away.
Next morning
The sun had just begun to rise when Jungkook stirred.
Something was warm against his chest. Something unfamiliar at the same time familiar.
He blinked open to find Taehyungie asleep, her head resting over his heart, breath slow and steady, his arm protectively curled around her waist. His body stilled.
Then her eyes shot open.
"Taeri? Taehyun?"
Panic surged. She scrambled out of his hold—only then realizing their intimate position. Jungkook blinked in stunned silence, quickly sitting up.
"Where are they?!" Taehyungie gasped.
They bolted.
"Riri! Hyun!" They searched their room, the playroom, the bathrooms but not even a sight of them. As they reached the living room in panic, silence enveloped.
Then—
"Hi Mama! Hi Daddy!" came the innocent, sugar-sweet voices.
Taehyungie and Jungkook stopped short.
The kitchen was... demolished. Flour coated the floor. Sugar trailed from the counter. The twins were completely covered—ghostly white from flour, grinning with unmatched pride.
"Taeri! Taehyun!" Taehyungie gasped.
Jungkook stepped forward, jaw slack. "What in the world—"
Before he could carry them from the stools Taeri scooped up a bowl of flour—and dumped it straight on his head.
A white pouf! cloud exploded over him.
Jungkook froze, blinking through the white haze. His face now a powdered mess.
Taehyungie gasped and covered her mouth, failing to stifle a laugh.
And then it bubbled out—a bright, ringing laugh. She couldn't stop.
The sight was ridiculous. Her kids looked like little buns. Jungkook looked like a flour-drenched statue. They were identical.
He turned toward her, disoriented. "Are you seriously laughing right now?"
"You—you look like them!" she wheezed through her laughter, pointing.
Jungkook's lip twitched. Then his grin split wide.
That sound—her laugh—he hadn't heard it in years. And God, he missed it.
The twins squealed, jumped from the stools and ran to their mother.
"No! No more flour!" Taehyungie backed away.
But Jungkook lunged.
He caught her around the waist and lifted her as the twins threw handfuls of flour at her. Taehyungie laughed and screamed, flailing as the white dust coated her hair and robe.
It was messy. Loud. Warm.
For one brief moment—they were just a family.
But that moment snapped the second Jungkook gently set her down, and Taehyungie's eyes met his.
She suddenly remembered. The betrayal. The years. The pain.
And just like that, the laughter faded. She stepped back, brushing flour off her shoulder. Her eyes avoided his.
She whispered coldly, "Don't think a little chaos and flour makes up for what you did."
She turned and walked out, the twins chasing behind her.
Jungkook stood alone in the kitchen, the powder settling... but the ache in his chest rising again.
--
Villa Bathroom – Late Morning
Steam curled softly in the spacious bathroom as Taehyungie gently scrubbed shampoo into Taehyun's soft hair, his eyes fluttering closed in comfort. Taeri giggled in the large tub beside him, splashing water as she hugged a floating duck toy.
"Be careful, baby," Taehyungie said, chuckling softly and wiping a few droplets off her own cheek.
She leaned over, reaching for the bath sponge, and her robe shifted slightly. For a second, she paused—her body still tingling from earlier. The ghost of Jungkook's arms around her... his breath close to her neck... her heart fluttered again.
No, no, no.
She shook her head lightly.
But before she could let her thoughts wander further, she cleared her throat. "Now, you two," she said gently, rinsing the lather from Taehyun's hair, "why did you wake up so early and turn the kitchen into a baking war zone?"
Taeri's big eyes blinked at her. "We wanted to make cake."
"Yeah!" Taehyun chimed in, holding up a fist proudly. "A surprise cake for Mama and Daddy!"
Taehyungie froze for half a second.
Her heart squeezed.
"A cake for us?" she asked, her voice soft and cracking slightly. "Why?"
Taeri shrugged. "Because we love you!"
"And Daddy looked sad yesterday," Taehyun added. "So we wanted to make you both smile."
Taehyungie stared at them. Then she leaned in, pressing kisses to both their foreheads.
"You two are too sweet," she whispered, swallowing down the emotions swelling in her throat. "Thank you, my angels. I love you so much."
Her mind drifted back to earlier. Jungkook's eyes when she laughed. His grin. His warmth. And now this... their children, being the purest parts of them both.
She let herself smile. Just a little.
Jeon Villa Balcony
Golden sunlight bathed the sleek mansion balcony as Jungkook stood leaning against the rail, phone pressed to his ear. On the other end, his mother listened intently.
"So?" she asked, voice teasing. "How's it going with my grandchildren and her?"
Jungkook couldn't hide the wide, goofy grin spreading across his face. He chuckled, eyes sparkling.
"They're... perfect, Mom," he whispered, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Taehyun's a bit cranky in the mornings. He reminds me of myself."
His mother laughed.
"And Taeri's sweet like her mom. Always smiling, always affectionate. They've got so much energy. And... they love me. Even after not being there. They still call me Daddy."
A pause.
His mother's voice softened. "And Taehyungie?"
Jungkook leaned his head back and exhaled.
"She's... guarded. Cold. But she's incredible, Mom. The way she parents them, the way she looks at them. I forgot how much I loved her laugh until I heard it again today. I swear—" he chuckled quietly, "—it was like hearing music."
He looked off toward the sky, heart heavy and full at once.
"I ruined everything... but I don't care how long it takes. I'm going to earn her back. I'm going to show her I've changed."
His mother was quiet, proud tears stinging her eyes.
"I believe in you, Jungkook," she whispered. "And if she's the same sweet girl I remember... she will too."
--
The villa kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned, thanks to an earlier flour war. Now, it gleamed under the soft golden light filtering in through the high windows.
Jungkook crouched to the kids' level at the kitchen island, apron tied (sloppily) around his waist, sleeves rolled up.
"Okay, little chefs," he said, voice gentle but animated, "what kind of cake are we making this time? No bombs of flour, got it?"
Taeri raised her hand dramatically. "Chocolate! With sprinkles!"
Taehyun nodded, serious. "And whipped cream! And strawberries on top."
Jungkook mock saluted. "Got it. Let's make it the best cake ever."
As they mixed the batter together, Jungkook helped them crack eggs (with a few near disasters), let them pour sugar and flour while guiding their hands, and even let them "taste test" the chocolate chips.
"You're eating all the ingredients!" he laughed as Taehyun cheekily stuffed his mouth.
"We're chefs," Taeri said proudly, her cheeks dusted with cocoa powder, "we have to taste!"
From the kitchen doorway, Taehyungie stood watching.
Her children were giggling. Flour was already smudged on Jungkook's cheek. The kitchen was alive with warmth and noise.
And the way Jungkook smiled at them... like he was finally whole.
Her eyes stung unexpectedly.
She quietly stepped away.
Late afternoon.
The cake was a success. The twins had each eaten two slices before passing out from exhaustion, their bellies full and hearts content.
Taehyungie walked into the quiet living room to find Jungkook sitting alone on the couch, a single dim lamp casting soft light across his tired features. He looked up when he heard her footsteps.
"Can't sleep?" he asked softly.
She hesitated, arms crossed, standing a safe distance away.
"No," she said. "I came to get water."
Jungkook nodded but didn't move. A beat passed.
"I never expected this," he said suddenly, voice rough. "To laugh with them. Bake with them. Hear them call me Daddy."
Taehyungie's heart ached, but her face remained unreadable.
"They're your kids," she said simply.
He nodded. "They are. And they're beautiful. You... you did an amazing job, Taehyungie."
She flinched slightly, not used to praise from him. Not anymore.
Another pause.
"They are my children."
And she turned, leaving him standing alone, heart in pieces... but still determined to win her back.
--
The next day...
Late Evening at the Villa
Dinner had ended, the plates long cleared, and the villa was wrapped in a calm hush.
The twins, full and content, were curled up on the couch in the living room, eyes wide as they watched Bluey, occasionally giggling or pointing excitedly at the screen. Jungkook sat at the dining table, his plate barely touched. His gaze kept flicking to the hallway.
Taehyungie hadn't come down.
Not once.
Not even for the kids.
Something wasn't right.
He waited another ten minutes, unsure. Worried. Finally, his chair scraped quietly against the floor, and he padded down the hallway. He stopped in front of her bedroom door, heart in his throat.
He raised a hand.
Knocked softly. "Taehyungie?"
No answer.
Silence... then a muffled, painful whimper.
His heart stopped. Panic gripped him.
Jungkook slowly pushed the door open.
His heart clenched.
There, Taehyungie was curled on her side, clutching her stomach, face twisted in pain. She wore an oversized hoodie, but her shorts had ridden high — revealing the smooth, bare length of her thighs under the moonlight. The hoodie was slightly askew, exposing the gentle slope of her collarbone.
She looked small. Fragile. And heartbreakingly beautiful.
A pang hit his chest.
And he remembered instantly.
The way she used to get unbearable cramps. How she'd cry when they were teens, and how he'd wrap her in blankets, run her warm baths, even sneak her heat packs into her class.
It came back like second nature.
"Taehyungie," he whispered gently, moving closer.
She flinched, eyes flickering open with a start. Her voice was barely audible. "Go away...I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
She turned away, curling tighter."
"I'm not leaving you like this."
Before she could protest, he was already gone — down the hall, into the kitchen. He checked on the twins first, giving them soft kisses on their heads. They were giggling at the show, completely unaware.
He returned minutes later — towel warmed in the microwave, a water bottle in hand and that same quiet urgency he always carried when it came to her.
"Let me help," he murmured, setting everything down.
"I said—"
"Please."
She looked at him, clearly exhausted, lips parted like she might protest again... but then she sighed and gave in.
Jungkook moved closer and gently helped lift her hoodie a bit to place the warm towel on her lower stomach. As he did, her soft skin brushed his knuckles. He froze for a split second — his eyes involuntarily trailing to where her shorts had ridden even higher. The curve of her thigh was right there, smooth and warm under the dim light.
His breath caught.
He looked away.
Quickly.
Jaw clenched. Heart thudding.
Control. Control.
"Here," he said quietly, brushing hair from her face and avoiding her gaze, "Drink something."
She took the water without a word. Sipped slowly.
"Does it help?" he asked.
"A little," she murmured. "It's always bad on the first day."
"I remember."
That made her blink. She looked at him — really looked at him. He saw it flicker in her eyes, that tangle of memory and pain and something softer, buried.
"You remember?"
"I always did."
A heavy silence fell.
Jungkook's fingers brushed against her wrist as he adjusted the towel again. She didn't pull away. But her face turned toward the wall, and her voice was quieter this time.
"You don't get to come back and act like you never left."
His hands stilled.
"I know," he said softly. "But I won't stop trying."
Another silence.
And even as she closed her eyes, clearly still aching and unwilling to let him back in fully — Jungkook stayed.
Because even with all the distance between them... he couldn't walk away again.
As Taehyungie lay still. The warmth of the towel on her abdomen dulled the worst of the cramps, but the ache in her chest — the one Jungkook had planted years ago — still throbbed, raw and stubborn.
He hadn't said another word after his quiet promise.
He just sat beside her on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on the floor, the occasional flick of his gaze drifting to her as if checking she was still breathing. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable — not yet — but it was full. Of things unsaid. Of memories clawing their way back.
She hated how natural it felt.
How his hand, earlier, had brushed her skin with such familiarity that goosebumps followed.
She turned her head slightly and stole a glance. He had leaned forward now, forearms on his knees, raking a hand through his dark hair. The sleeve of his black shirt was pushed up, revealing veins along his forearm — the same arm that used to hold her on cold nights, the same hand that used to draw circles on her hip until she fell asleep.
Her fingers twitched.
She closed her eyes.
She couldn't let him in. Not again. Because forgiveness wasn't just a door. It was a floodgate. And she wasn't ready to drown.
Not again.
Tap, tap.
A soft knock on the slightly open door broke the silence.
"...Mama?" a small voice whispered.
Both Taehyungie and Jungkook looked toward the door.
Taeri and Taehyun peeked in — wearing matching pajamas, faces sleepy, but brows knitted with worry.
"We didn't see Mama at dinner," Taeri said, walking in.
"Is Mama sick?" Taehyun added, clutching his stuffed bunny.
Taehyungie sat up slowly. "I'm okay, babies. Just a little pain in my tummy."
The twins hurried over to her side. Jungkook instinctively stood, stepping back to give them room.
Taeri gently placed a tiny hand on her mother's cheek. "Do you want us to sing healing song, Mama? Like you do for us?"
Taehyungie's heart clenched. Her throat tightened.
She nodded. "I'd love that."
The twins hummed a sweet, tuneless melody — their own made-up "healing song." It was off-key and soft, but Taehyungie felt her eyes sting.
Jungkook stood by the doorway, watching the three of them.
And something swelled in his chest.
He had missed this.
Moments like these. Love like this.
He quietly whispered, "I'll go clean up the kitchen."
As he turned to leave, Taehyungie glanced over at him. She didn't say anything... but her eyes lingered.
It was not forgiveness, no , not yet.
But something close to it.
And for now, that was enough.
--
A week later...
The golden hue of the afternoon sun bathed the private villa grounds in a gentle, dreamy light. Birds chirped in the trees, a warm breeze ruffled the tall grass, and the scent of jasmine drifted through the garden. A plaid picnic blanket was spread beneath the shade of a weeping willow, its long, swaying branches curling around like a private veil of nature.
The kids demanded for a picnic and Taehyungie was so awed by their cuteness to decline. She sat in the middle of the blanket, her hair loosely braided down her back. Her sundress fluttered around her knees, and a soft smile touched her lips as she poured orange juice into little plastic cups for the twins.
Taeri and Taehyun were dashing through the grass nearby, clutching paper kites Jungkook had helped them make earlier. Their laughter rang through the air — bright, wild, and innocent.
Jungkook stood by the portable picnic basket, now half-empty, watching his children with quiet awe. He had his sleeves rolled up, a shadow of flour still in his hair from the morning chaos in the kitchen. His eyes drifted from the twins... to her.
Taehyungie.
She looked so serene with the sunlight catching in her lashes, her fingers gently arranging the sliced fruit and rice balls she'd packed. The way she fussed over the juice not spilling. The way she muttered softly to herself.
Like she'd always done — years ago.
His chest tightened.
He picked up a sandwich and walked over to her, gently placing it on her plate. "You didn't eat much," he said softly.
Taehyungie didn't glance up. "I'm not hungry."
"They'll be sad if you don't try what they helped make."
Her lips twitched, eyes darting to where the twins were now yelling about who could run faster. "They're really something," she murmured. "They don't even know the world tried to take one of them away."
Jungkook crouched beside her, voice low. "And it won't happen again. I'll make sure of it."
Taehyungie's eyes flicked to his face for a moment — sharp, unreadable — then dropped back to her hands. She peeled a clementine quietly, splitting it into halves.
The wind picked up.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear just as Taehyun tripped on a small tree root. "Oof!" he cried.
"Taehyun!" Taehyungie moved quickly, panic flashing across her face.
Jungkook bolted at the same time. But as she turned to run, her foot slipped on the slight slope in the grass.
She yelped as her ankle twisted beneath her.
In an instant, Jungkook was there. His arms shot out, catching her before she hit the ground.
Her body collided against his.
His hand slid around her waist, the other bracing her back as they tumbled gently into the soft grass together. She landed half-sprawled across him, chest heaving, face just inches from his own.
Her heart pounded against his ribs.
His breath caught.
Their eyes locked — wide and startled at first, but slowly... something deeper simmered in the space between them.
Taehyungie's straps had shifted slightly from the fall, revealing the soft swell of her chest beneath her dress.
Jungkook's gaze dipped for the briefest moment — and he looked away instantly, jaw tightening with restraint.
Taehyungie flushed a deep red.
"Y-You can let go now," she muttered, attempting to sit up, but the curve of the slope had her slipping again.
"I got you," Jungkook whispered.
His grip was gentle as he steadied her. This close, he could smell her familiar perfume — hints of vanilla and jasmine, with the faint scent of sun.
Taehyungie limped slightly as she reached the twins, brushing off their excitement with a faint smile. Jungkook followed close behind, keeping an eye on her. But the real problem came to light when Taehyun suddenly sat down on the grass, rubbing his knee with a trembling lip.
"Hyun?" Taehyungie crouched beside him, alarm rising in her voice.
"It hurts..." he mumbled. His voice cracked, and suddenly tears welled in his eyes. He tried to be brave — but the moment he saw Taehyungie's concerned face, he burst into sobs.
"Mommy, it hurts a lot!"
Taehyungie's heart clenched.
Panic kicked in. She gently checked his knee — it was scraped, bruised, and already swelling. "Oh my God"
"He was scared to make you upset," Taeri said innocently. "Because you already fell too."
Jungkook kneeled next to them instantly. "Let me see," he said gently, reaching for Taehyun's leg.
But Taehyun flinched. "No! I want Mama to do it."
Jungkook froze, something unreadable flickering through his eyes.
Taehyungie inhaled sharply and scooped her son into her lap, shushing him softly as she examined the wound again.
"Sweetheart, Daddy can help." she murmured.
"But mama makes it less painful..." Taehyun mumbled under his breath.
Taehyungie's chest tightened. Jungkook swallowed hard but didn't argue. Instead, he stepped back and quietly said, "I'll get the first aid kit."
Back at the villa, Taehyungie cleaned and bandaged Taehyun's knee, whispering soft lullabies while he rested his head on her chest. When he finally drifted off to sleep with Taeri beside him, Taehyungie walked out of the bedroom, her face pale and tense.
Jungkook was waiting in the hallway.
"She's fine," she said flatly before he could ask. "He'll be fine. It's just a scrape."
"I know," he said, voice hoarse. "But... it hit me, Tae. How much I've missed. How many moments like this you've faced alone."
Taehyungie crossed her arms. "You think this is about bandages and kites? No, Jungkook. You missed five years of heartbreak, of scraped knees, nightmares, fevers, and questions I couldn't answer."
"I know," he whispered. "And I'll never stop asking for forgiveness... even if you never give it."
She turned away. "Good." But as she walked back into the room and watched her children sleeping peacefully, her chest softened.
Taehyun still clung to her shirt even in his sleep. His scraped knee bandaged, his pout still visible. He had been brave — but he had also made it clear: trust had to be earned.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 23: Soft moments, heavy hearts
Chapter Text
The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm amber glow through the large windows of the private villa. The twins were curled up on the plush carpet of the living room, watching their favorite cartoon, Bluey, their giggles echoing faintly through the house.
Jungkook stepped onto the back patio, phone pressed to his ear, brows furrowed deeply.
Eunwoo's voice crackled through the line.
"I did a sweep again. Whoever Seoyoon paid to cover her tracks — they're professionals. We traced the exit flight as far as Romania, but after that? She's a ghost. There's nothing. No banks, no cameras, no comms."
Jungkook's jaw clenched. "So you're saying even after she died, the people are still targeting my kids?"
"Yes. Either way, you're not safe in the city. Stay in the villa. Do not move until I say otherwise."
He let out a slow, frustrated exhale. "Got it."
As the call ended, Jungkook remained outside for a few seconds, staring at the pink-orange clouds overhead. The air felt too still, too fragile. He walked back in slowly.
Taehyungie was in the kitchen, washing a few bowls from the twins' snack time. Her hair was tied messily, and she had a hand resting on the counter like she was trying to steady herself.
Jungkook hesitated at the doorway. Then, quietly, "Tae..."
She glanced over her shoulder. "Hmm?"
"We're not leaving the villa yet," he said. "Eunwoo just called. They are still targeting the kids. It's still not safe."
Taehyungie stilled. The sponge in her hand dropped into the sink with a soft splat.
"Of course," she muttered, straightening up and then turns to him, eyes sharp with a flicker of restrained panic. "So what now, Jungkook? We sit here for weeks? Months? Trapped? Let the kids keep thinking this is some kind of vacation while someone who tried to kill our daughter walks free?!"
Jungkook stepped closer, voice calm but firm. "I know it's hard. I hate it too—"
"No, you don't know," she snapped. "You weren't there when Taeri was shot. You didn't witness seeing blood oozed like a broken faucet. You came after. After the blood, after the fear, after the trauma."
Her voice cracked. "I can't keep pretending I'm okay just because this villa has warm lighting and safety glass."
Jungkook's expression crumpled. "You don't have to pretend. I'm here now, Tae—"
She shook her head. "Being here now doesn't erase what happened then."
They stood in silence. Only the muffled laughter of the twins from the living room filled the quiet.
"I'm trying," he finally said, his voice low, filled with ache. "To make up for every second I missed. But I know it'll never be enough."
Taehyungie didn't respond right away. She looked away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Just... make sure this ends soon. For them. They deserve peace."
Jungkook nodded once, heart heavy. "I will."
--
The late afternoon sun had started to dip beneath the hills surrounding the villa, bathing the bedroom in a warm amber hue. Taehyungie sat by the window, laptop balanced on her knees, and her long hair falling messily over one shoulder. On screen, Jiminie and Jinnie appeared side-by-side, both lounging on the couch back at the Kim residence.
"You're glowing, Tae. Should we start calling you Mrs. Jeon?" Jiminie teased bitterly, sipping his iced tea.
Taehyungie rolled her eyes. "I will throw this laptop across the pool if you don't shut up."
Jinnie snorted. "She's just joking, but seriously, how are you holding up? You've been in that villa for weeks."
Taehyungie let out a sigh so long it could've echoed through the mountains. "I'm losing my mind."
The two fell silent, sensing the seriousness in her tone.
"I love the kids more than anything," she continued softly. "And I'll do anything to protect them. But being here... with him. It's too much."
Her lips pressing into a thin line. "He's everywhere. He helps with the twins, he's considerate, he tries so hard to act normal. And every time I look at him, I want to scream and cry at the same time."
Jinnie's gaze softened. "He really messed you up."
"I see him staring when he thinks I'm not looking," she whispered. "Like he's full of regret. And maybe he is. But why now? Why after five years?"
Jiminie's jaw clenched. "Do you want us to come get you? I'll drive up there tonight."
Taehyungie gave a small smile. "No. The place is safe, and the twins are happy. They've never had him like this before. I can't ruin it for them."
"But it's ruining you," Jinnie said gently.
Taehyungie blinked back the sting in her eyes. "I just needed to talk to someone who understands. Someone who won't expect me to smile through it."
"You always have us," Jinnie assured her. "Always."
"And when this is all over, you're coming home and we're going to have a girls' night and scream at old dramas until we feel normal again," Jiminie declared.
Taehyungie laughed, a genuine one this time, and for a moment, she looked like her old self again.
"Deal," she whispered. "Thank you, both of you."
"Now go splash some cold water on that gorgeous face and don't let him win," Jinnie smirked.
As the call ended and the screen went dark, Taehyungie leaned her head against the window, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
In the living room, Taehyun and Taeri were busy crafting something on the carpet with construction paper, glitter, and an endless supply of glue sticks.
Jungkook walked in from the hallway, fresh from his work call, loosening the top buttons of his shirt. His eyes landed on the twins immediately—Taeri's pigtails bouncing as she snipped a pink heart, and Taehyun's tongue sticking out in concentration as he traced something with a marker.
"What are you two up to?" he asked, crouching beside them.
Taeri looked up with sparkling eyes. "A surprise!"
"For who?" Jungkook smiled, ruffling her hair.
"Both of you," Taehyun said matter-of-factly. "Mama and Daddy."
Before Jungkook could respond, Taehyungie entered, drawn by the sound of voices. She wore a simple white shirt and jeans, her hair up in a loose clip, and paused in the doorway when she saw the mess on the floor.
Her eyes narrowed. "Please tell me none of this glue is on the sofa."
"Nope!" Taehyun grinned. "We were careful. It's for you."
"For me?" Taehyungie blinked.
"And Daddy," Taeri added quickly, scooting toward her mom and holding up a paper heart. In neat, crooked letters, it read: "We wuv our family."
Taehyungie's lips parted slightly. The words were so simple. So innocent. Her gaze lifted to Jungkook, who looked just as shaken as she was.
"Mama sit here," Taehyun insisted, patting the carpet beside them. "Daddy too."
Taehyungie hesitated, then lowered herself gingerly beside the twins. Jungkook followed without a word. There they sat—mother, father, and children—surrounded by glue sticks, crayons, and love drawn in crooked lines and messy hearts.
As Taehyun and Taeri began explaining their "project" for the day, placing handmade crowns on their parents' heads, Jungkook let out a soft laugh. It was full of awe and disbelief, as though he still couldn't believe he was allowed to be part of this world.
He looked over at Taehyungie, who was trying her hardest not to smile at the ridiculous paper crown sliding off her head.
Their eyes met.
No anger.
No blame.
Just... warmth. Familiarity. The ache of what was lost and the fragile hope of what could still be rebuilt.
A crown slipped off Jungkook's head, and Taehyungie chuckled.
"I didn't say you could laugh at me," he murmured.
"You didn't say I couldn't," she sassed.
The twins, oblivious to the slow-burning tension between their parents, clapped their hands and shouted, "Family hug!"
Jungkook opened his arms without thinking. Taeri leapt in first, followed by Taehyun, who pulled his mother in. Taehyungie didn't resist.
She was pulled into Jungkook's arms by the twins, squashed between their giggles and warm little bodies.
And as Jungkook's hand briefly brushed her back and their eyes locked again over their children's heads...
...Taehyungie didn't pull away.
Not yet.
--
2 days later...
The villa had grown quiet after dinner, the kids tucked into bed, and the usual lull of evening settling in. A soft breeze passed through the open patio doors, carrying the scent of flowers and a hint of the coming rain.
Jungkook was in the kitchen rinsing plates when he heard a soft thump from the hallway.
He dried his hands quickly and stepped out.
"Taehyungie?" he called gently.
At the far end of the hallway, near the linen closet, Taehyungie leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other gripping the doorframe.
"Tae!" Jungkook rushed forward.
Just as she began to slide downward, her knees giving out, he caught her—arms wrapping around her before she could hit the floor. Her body was warm, almost too warm, and she was trembling slightly.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, eyes squeezed shut.
"You're not fine," he snapped, more from panic than anger. "You almost fainted."
"It's nothing. I just stood up too fast."
Jungkook gently helped her sit on the edge of the console table nearby. He crouched before her, brushing strands of hair from her clammy forehead.
"You're burning up," he murmured, eyes dark with concern.
Taehyungie swatted at his hand. "I told you. I'm fine."
"Taehyungie, don't do that. Don't act like this isn't serious," he said quietly. "You've been pale all day. You didn't eat much. You're barely sleeping—"
"Because we're stuck in a villa with the man who broke me, that's why," she cut in, voice low and sharp, but her breath hitched halfway through, betraying the fatigue creeping in.
Jungkook fell silent, pain flashing across his features. Still, he didn't let her go. He looked up at her with a steadiness that had matured over time.
"I know I hurt you. I know I can't fix five years with apologies," he said gently. "But you're the mother of my children. I need you to be okay. If you're sick... tell me."
Taehyungie's jaw clenched. Her eyes glistened, not with tears, but with the weight of stubborn pride.
"I'll rest," she finally said. "Just don't make a big deal out of it."
Jungkook nodded slowly, but his hand remained on her knee, warm and grounding.
"You don't have to carry everything alone anymore."
She didn't answer.
But as he stood to help her up, and she leaned—just slightly—into his touch, Jungkook didn't miss the way her body sagged, trusting him more than her words would ever admit.
The morning sun spilled softly through the villa's long curtains, dancing across the dining table where the twins were eating breakfast — giggling between bites of fruit and pancakes. Jungkook sat with them, eyes stealing glances across the table where Taehyungie sat, unusually quiet.
She barely touched her food.
Her spoon hovered over the bowl, fingers trembling slightly.
"Are you feeling any better?" Jungkook asked gently, keeping his voice low so as not to alert the kids.
Taehyungie didn't look up. "It's none of your business."
The response cut. Cold. Distant.
Jungkook nodded, not pushing. He didn't miss the way her eyes looked glassy. The way she subtly rubbed at her abdomen as if trying to soothe something invisible.
After breakfast, he took the twins upstairs for their bath. Taeri splashed water at Taehyun, who retaliated with bubbles — their laughter echoing down the hall. Jungkook smiled softly as he dried them off and dressed them in matching yellow outfits.
But then — the sound.
Violent retching.
It came from across the hall.
Jungkook stiffened. He recognized it instantly.
"Stay here," he told the kids, voice tight.
He rushed to Taehyungie's room and pushed the door open — his breath catching at the sight.
She was doubled over at the side of her bed, vomiting into a basin, her hand gripping the edge for support. Sweat clung to her brow. Her knees buckled slightly as she gasped for breath.
"Taehyungie!" Jungkook rushed to her side, his voice laced with panic.
The twins, having followed behind despite his instruction, stood at the doorway with wide eyes, confusion and fear written across their faces.
"Mommy?" Taeri called out timidly.
"Is Mama sick?" Taehyun whispered.
Jungkook gathered Taehyungie's shaking frame into his arms, helping her sit against the bedpost. He grabbed tissues, wiped her mouth, and gently stroked her back.
"It's okay, love... I've got you..." he whispered, heart racing. "It's alright..."
But she suddenly slumped forward.
"Tae?"
Her eyes fluttered closed.
"Taehyungie—!" he called louder, patting her cheeks. "Hey—no, no, no—don't do this."
She fainted.
Jungkook's arms tightened around her limp body as panic surged through him.
"Taehyun," he said urgently, voice sharp but not unkind. "Go to the living room. Get my phone. It's on the coffee table. Fast, baby. Please."
Taehyun darted off in a flash, footsteps pounding.
Jungkook held Taehyung close, pressing his forehead to hers.
"I'm here. I'm not letting you go," he whispered shakily. "You'll be okay. Please be okay..."
Moments later, Taehyun came sprinting back with the phone, nearly tripping.
Jungkook grabbed it and immediately dialed.
"Dr. Han. It's Jungkook. I need you at the villa. Now! please, just hurry."
He didn't wait for the answer. Just hung up and pulled Taehyungie into his arms again.
The twins knelt beside their mother, eyes full of tears.
"Daddy..." Taeri sniffled. "Is Mama going to be okay?"
Jungkook looked down at his children — at their innocent, fearful faces.
He nodded, his throat burning.
"Yes. She's going to be okay," he said, voice barely holding together. "Daddy's going to make sure of it."
A few minutes passed as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the villa's hall. The twins huddled on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, their eyes flitting anxiously toward their mother's room every few seconds.
Jungkook sat by the bedside, brushing Taehyungie's hair back from her pale, clammy forehead, her hand wrapped loosely in his.
She hadn't woken yet.
The front door opened, and Dr. Han stepped inside with a nurse carrying a black case. Jungkook met them halfway, his expression pinched with concern.
"She collapsed," Jungkook explained quickly. "She was vomiting and dizzy... she fainted in my arms."
Dr. Han nodded, setting the case down beside the bed. "Let me take a look."
Jungkook stepped back, eyes never leaving Taehyungie's face as Dr. Han checked her temperature, blood pressure, and reflexes. The nurse scribbled notes while Jungkook hovered nervously at the foot of the bed.
A few tense minutes later, the doctor stood upright, his expression serious but not panicked.
"She's exhausted. Dehydrated. Likely an early-stage viral infection or something stress-related. But with her body already tired..." He glanced at Jungkook. "It was bound to collapse at some point."
Jungkook swallowed. "What do I need to do?"
Dr. Han looked him squarely in the eye. "Absolute bed rest. No stress, no moving around. She needs proper meals, hydration, and most of all — care. Real care. She cannot afford another collapse."
"I'll take care of her," Jungkook said instantly.
The doctor nodded. "I'll prescribe some anti-nausea medication, immune support, and I want you monitoring her temperature."
Jungkook's eyes flickered. "I will."
Once the nurse handed over the medications and gave Jungkook instructions, they left. Silence settled in the villa again.
Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, watching Taehyungie stir weakly. Her lashes fluttered open and she blinked at the ceiling.
"Jungkook...?" she whispered, voice hoarse.
He leaned in. "I'm here."
Her brows furrowed slightly as she remembered — the vomiting, the fainting — her body still trembling.
"You fainted," Jungkook said softly. "Doctor said you're overworked. You need bed rest. You hear me? That means you stay in bed, drink water, eat, and let me handle the rest."
Taehyungie tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her back against the pillows.
"I said rest, Taehyungie."
She glared at him weakly. "I can handle myself."
"I know you can," he murmured, voice low and tender. "But I want to help you this time. Let me."
She turned her head away. "You don't owe me anything."
"I owe you everything."
That silence between them was deafening — only broken when the door creaked open and two small heads peeked in.
"Mama..." Taeri said softly. "Are you okay?"
Taehyungie turned her head slowly, eyes softening. "I'm okay, baby."
Jungkook turned to the twins. "Mama needs to rest now."
They rushed to her bedside and climbed up gently to kiss her cheeks. Jungkook helped them off and turned on an educational video for them.
When he returned, Taehyungie was drifting again, eyelids heavy.
"Sleep," Jungkook whispered, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Let me take care of you for once."
She didn't reply.
But she didn't push him away either.
--
The afternoon sun bled gold across the polished floors of the villa. Jungkook walked quietly into Taehyungie's room, a small tray balanced in his hands—on it, a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of water, and her medication neatly laid out on a white napkin. She was awake, propped weakly against the headboard, skin still pale but slightly less washed out than before.
"I made some soup," he said gently, setting the tray down on the bedside table as he picks up the spoon to feed her "Eat slowly. It'll help."
"I can feed myself," Taehyungie said, sitting up straighter, voice soft but firm.
Jungkook didn't answer, blowing on the spoonful before raising it to her lips.
"Jungkook—"
"Just let me do this."
Their eyes locked for a beat too long before Taehyungie sighed and parted her lips. He fed her slowly, spoon after spoon, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with each pause. There was something soft in his movements—like he was holding time itself gently in his hands.
Once the bowl was empty, he helped her sip water and handed her the meds. She took them wordlessly, not looking him in the eye.
"I'll run you a bath," he said, rising.
"No—no, you don't have to. I can—" she stammered, wincing slightly as she tried to move.
Jungkook turned, already heading into the bathroom. "You can barely sit upright, Taehyung."
He paused. Then turned back, gaze soft but steady. "I'll close my eyes. Promise." As if reading her thoughts.
Taehyungie flushes, Jungkook returned and carefully gathered her into his arms. Taehyungie tensed, her hands instinctively clutching his shirt.
He looked down at her, eyes dark and unreadable. She looked back—vulnerable, breath hitching. Neither spoke.
Their faces were close. The air buzzed with everything left unsaid.
Then the moment snapped.
Jungkook gently set her down at the edge of the tub. Turning around, he shielded his eyes with his hand and said, "Tell me when you're ready."
After a pause and some shifting fabric, she muttered, "Okay."
He turned back and, careful not to look down, carried her into the tub. The warm water and rose-scented bubbles rose around her body, concealing her bare skin. She let out a soft sigh as the warmth soothed her aching limbs.
"I'll check on the kids," he said, standing. "Don't get up on your own."
Minutes later, after serving the twins their lunch and settling them in the play area, he returned. He paused in the hallway as he caught sight of her—Taehyungie was slowly making her way out of the bathroom, wrapped in a thick white towel, one hand bracing the wall.
"Yah—" Jungkook rushed to her, alarmed. "You shouldn't be walking around like this."
"I was just—" she started, voice weak.
He scooped her up before she could finish, cradling her gently as he brought her back to bed. "You never listen."
He set her down carefully and turned toward her closet, rummaging through soft pastel loungewear. But her voice stopped him.
"Something comfortable..." she mumbled, head leaning against the pillows.
Jungkook hesitated—then turned and quietly left the room.
He returned with one of his oversized black shirts, soft with wear and smelling faintly of his cologne. Without a word, he handed it to her and turned around to give her privacy.
Taehyungie held the shirt tightly, biting her lower lip.
Somehow, the gesture was more intimate than anything else today.
--
The house was calm, sunlight fading into a soft twilight that kissed the windows of the villa. Taehyungie lay quietly on the bed, Jungkook's shirt still draped over her petite frame, the fabric warm from her body heat. Her thoughts swirled like mist — everything was happening so fast. The closeness, the silence, the way he looked at her... but for now, her body needed rest more than her mind needed clarity.
From the hallway, she could hear the splashes and laughter of the twins as Jungkook bathed them. His voice was soft, patient — filled with love. It made her chest ache in the best and worst ways.
By the time the door creaked open, she had composed herself. The twins rushed in, hair damp, clad in cute little pajamas.
"Mama!" Taehyun chirped, climbing up onto the bed.
"We're clean!" Taeri added proudly.
Before she could say anything, two small pairs of lips kissed both her cheeks. Taehyungie blinked in surprise, the unexpected tenderness melting something in her.
"Oh—my sweet babies," she whispered, wrapping an arm around them. Her heart swelled with love so deep, so fierce, it made her forget everything else for a moment.
"We missed you all day," Taehyun pouted, resting his cheek on her stomach.
"I'm sorry," Taehyungie murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Mama wasn't feeling too good."
"It's okay," Taeri said brightly. "Daddy said you just need to rest! So we'll be good!"
Their innocence made her eyes sting, but she smiled and kissed the tops of their heads.
Jungkook entered moments later, drying his hands with a towel. "Alright, little bunnies, bedtime."
The kids whined a little, but when he lifted them up and promised a bedtime story, they brightened up and waved exaggerated goodbyes to their mother.
"Love you, Mama!"
"I love you more," Taehyungie whispered.
Jungkook took them to their room and spent a little more time tucking them in. When they were finally asleep, he stepped onto the terrace and dialed Namjoon.
"Jungkook," came the familiar deep voice, "how's the situation over there?"
Jungkook leaned on the railing, the stars starting to blink into the sky above. "Still no lead. Eunwoo says they've covered their tracks well."
Namjoon sighed. "That's what I feared. But keep pushing. We can't let them win."
There was a short silence, then Namjoon asked, "And Taehyungie?"
Jungkook hesitated. "...She's sick. Been fainting and throwing up."
"What?! What kind of sickness?" Namjoon's voice rose sharply. "Send me the address, I'll—"
"She's okay now," Jungkook cut in quickly, trying to calm him. "Really. The doctor came. She's resting. I wouldn't let anything happen to her."
"Still," Namjoon grumbled, "I need to hear her voice. Just once."
Jungkook turned and walked quietly back into Taehyungie's room. She was awake, curled on her side. He extended the phone to her.
"It's Namjoon. He's worried."
Taehyungie took it slowly, her voice soft but tired. "Oppa... I'm fine. Just exhausted."
"Tae-ah..." Namjoon's voice cracked a little. "You scared me. Take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will," she said gently. "Thank you for worrying."
Jungkook watched her, something warm and possessive curling in his chest. As she handed back the phone, their fingers brushed — and lingered.
Neither said a word.
But the quiet between them was no longer sharp. It was beginning to soften — like a bruise slowly healing.
--
The villa had finally quieted down.
Taehyungie had fallen asleep, curled beneath the soft blanket Jungkook had pulled over her. The twins were soundly tucked into their beds, the only sound from their room the gentle hum of a lullaby on repeat.
Jungkook stepped out onto the balcony of the master bedroom, phone in hand. The night was still, the air cool against his skin as he leaned on the railing. The stars above sparkled with a soft indifference, the moon casting pale silver over the trees that swayed gently in the wind.
He scrolled through his contacts and tapped on a familiar name: Hoseok Hyung.
The line rang once... twice...
Then came a familiar, cheery voice.
"Yah! Look who suddenly remembers I exist!"
Jungkook let out a low chuckle, his tone teasing.
"You? You're the one who forgot me. Since you left, you don't even call to check if I'm still alive."
"Oh, come on," Hoseok laughed. "You're Jungkook. CEO. Billionaire. Drama magnet. You'd survive the apocalypse and still look good doing it."
Jungkook huffed a laugh and leaned back, looking up at the sky.
"Still... you disappeared the moment you said 'I'm going to take a little leave'."
"I needed that leave," Hoseok groaned dramatically. "Being your right hand is exhausting. I was starting to dream in corporate language."
"Yeah? And what are you dreaming of now?" Jungkook teased.
There was a suspicious giggle on the other end.
"Let's just say... I've been busy."
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, smirking knowingly even though no one could see it.
"Busy, huh? Anyone I know?"
"Mind your business, Jeon Jungkook." Hoseok retorted playfully, and they both chuckled like the old friends they were.
The conversation flowed for a while — jokes, updates, little anecdotes about the people they used to work with. It was light and easy, something Jungkook hadn't had in a while.
Eventually, Hoseok's voice softened.
"How are you, really?"
Jungkook hesitated "Trying," he said quietly. "Every day. For them. For her."
Hoseok didn't need to ask who.
"She's always been worth it."
"Yeah," Jungkook whispered, lips curving into a wistful smile. "She has."
They exchanged goodnights, and Hoseok promised to visit once things calmed down.
Jungkook hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket. As he turned back into the room, the stillness of the house greeted him like a blanket.
The world outside was spinning with chaos — but here, in this villa, under this roof, for now, there was quiet.
And as he slipped under the covers, Jungkook allowed himself to drift off to sleep.
Tomorrow was another day to prove himself worthy.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 24: Tension and truths
Chapter Text
The sun was only just beginning to rise, soft light bleeding into the villa's spacious windows.
Inside, it was quiet. Too quiet.
Jungkook stirred awake, expecting the sounds of the twins sneaking out of their room. But the air felt...off. The villa, normally calm, now hummed with something unnerving. A sense of unease prickled at his skin.
Then—
A loud thud.
It came from the hallway.
Jungkook bolted upright, adrenaline already rushing through his veins. He rushed toward the noise, his bare feet thumping against the wooden floor.
And there—
At the end of the hallway—
Taehyungie was collapsed on the floor.
She was curled in on herself, her hand clutched tightly around her stomach, face pale, breathing short and sharp. Her lips were trembling, beads of sweat trailing down her temples. Her body trembled as if trying to hold itself together through sheer will.
"Tae!" Jungkook shouted, rushing to her side and dropping to his knees. "Taehyungie, baby—hey, look at me!"
She blinked slowly, eyes glazed.
"I... I just got dizzy..." she rasped, clearly in pain. "My stomach..."
Jungkook didn't waste a second. He scooped her into his arms, her body light but limp against him.
His heart pounded in his chest, panic crawling through his throat.
"It's okay, I've got you," he whispered, more to himself than her. "You're okay. Stay with me."
He burst back into the master bedroom and gently laid her on the bed, covering her in blankets before reaching for his phone and immediately dialing Doctor Han.
"Come now. Emergency. Taehyungie collapsed."
The urgency in his voice needed no elaboration.
Minutes passed like hours.
Taehyungie drifted in and out of consciousness. At one point, she looked up at him with glassy eyes.
"Don't... panic..." she whispered.
"Too late," Jungkook muttered under his breath, brushing her hair back with shaking hands. "You scared the life out of me."
The twins appeared at the door with sleepy eyes and frightened expressions.
"Mama?" Taehyun whispered, clutching his sister's hand tightly.
Jungkook looked over. "Go sit in the living room, okay? I promise she'll be fine. I'll call you when you can see her."
They obeyed slowly, Taeri wiping her tears as they went.
Soon the doctor arrived.
He examined Taehyungie thoroughly, his frown growing deeper with each minute. After checking her vitals, he injected her with a mild stabilizer to ease her pain and prevent further fainting. Jungkook hovered beside him like a shadow.
Finally, the doctor sighed, looking Jungkook in the eye.
"She needs full bed rest. Whatever stress she's under—emotional, physical—it's become too much for her system. Her blood pressure is fluctuating dangerously, and she's showing signs of extreme fatigue."
"And the nausea? The vomiting?"
"It may be a delayed result of stress, or a secondary infection weakening her. We'll need to monitor her carefully."
Jungkook nodded tightly.
"She shouldn't move around. No chores, no walking up and down. If you want her to recover, she needs complete peace. And she needs someone—"
"She has me." Jungkook cut in without hesitation.
The doctor gave a nod of approval, packed up, and left.
Jungkook returned to Taehyungie's side, who was now more stable but drowsy. She glanced at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You're fussing too much..."
"You collapsed," Jungkook said, brushing her bangs from her forehead again. "You scared me."
Taehyungie's lips twitched faintly in a ghost of a smile.
"That's good isn't it?."
Jungkook ignored her even though his heart clenched painfully at that.
--
In the bathroom, the tub filled with warm, soapy water. Jungkook sat on a low stool, sleeves rolled up, wet patches on his shirt from the splashes as he bathed the twins.
Taeri giggled as she tapped a sponge to Taehyun's nose, while he splashed back with a dramatic gasp.
"Daddy?" Taehyun asked suddenly, voice small.
"Is Mama still sick?"
Jungkook paused mid-rinse. He gently tilted his son's chin up and met his big, worried eyes.
"Yeah, baby," he said softly, wiping soap from his cheek. "But she'll be okay. She just needs lots of rest."
"Can we give her a get-well card?" Taeri asked, already reaching for her floating bath toy shaped like a pencil.
Jungkook smiled, heart both swelling and aching at their concern.
"That's a beautiful idea."
Once they were clean and warm in their clothes, Jungkook gently towel-dried their hair and led them to the kitchen.
The smell of breakfast began to fill the villa—fluffy scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and sweet banana slices arranged like smiley faces on their plates. The twins colored quietly at the table, their little feet swinging as they leaned over their books.
Jungkook moved back and forth between the stove and the table, occasionally disappearing up the stairs to peek into Taehyungie's room.
There she was, still tucked beneath the soft blankets, a warm towel over her abdomen just as the doctor instructed. She looked pale but calm—her chest rising in steady rhythm.
He leaned down and whispered,
"Rest well, love."
Then he returned downstairs.
"Daddy! Look!" Taeri chirped, holding up a drawing of Taehyungie, a pink heart over her head.
"That's beautiful," Jungkook said, kneeling between them. "She's going to love it."
Taehyun reached for a blue crayon, frowning in concentration.
"I wanna draw her with wings. Like a sleepy angel."
Jungkook chuckled.
"She already is."
He sat with them for a moment, watching as their small hands filled the paper with color and love, knowing that the best healing sometimes came from the gentlest things.
Upstairs, Taehyungie stirred faintly, as if her heart heard the love blooming just a floor below.
Jungkook placed their empty plates in the sink and dried his hands before making his way up the stairs. The door creaked softly as he opened it.
Taehyungie still lay curled on her side, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. The warm towel had slipped slightly from her waist. A faint crease marred her brow, and her lashes fluttered ever so slightly, as if her dreams weren't at peace.
Jungkook stepped in quietly, the floor creaking under his socked feet.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes searching her face.
"Tae..." he whispered, voice low and cautious.
She stirred at the sound. Her lids blinked open slowly, groggy and dazed. Then she squinted at the dim light, a faint grimace pulling at her features.
"Jungkook...?"
"I'm here." He brushed her hair away from her face. His touch was featherlight, reverent. "How do you feel?"
Taehyungie swallowed, voice hoarse.
"Like I was run over by a truck."
Despite himself, Jungkook smiled gently.
She closed her eyes again, sighing deeply.
"Why are you hovering like that?" she mumbled. "I said I'm fine."
"You fainted, threw up, and scared the hell out of me," he replied, his voice firmer now. "Let me be worried. Please."
She turned her face into the pillow.
A beat passed in silence.
Jungkook adjusted the blanket over her, tucking it gently around her legs. Then he placed a fresh glass of water on the nightstand, followed by her medication.
"You need to take this soon."
"Mmm." She didn't move.
He hesitated—then asked softly, "Can I help you sit up?"
When she didn't respond, Jungkook leaned closer and gently slid an arm beneath her back and another under her knees. As he lifted her slightly, her body naturally leaned into his chest. She didn't protest.
"I've got you," he murmured, seating her up against the headboard with care.
Their eyes met briefly. Hers were glazed with fever and sleep, but they still held fragments of that old spark—mistrust, pain, warmth, love... it was all there.
"Why are you doing all this?" she asked suddenly, voice a faint whisper.
"Why now?"
Jungkook swallowed.
"Because I should've been here five years ago... and I'll keep showing up now, no matter how you despise my presence."
Taehyungie looked away, heart thudding unevenly.
He handed her the medication and the water.
As she took the pills silently, his eyes wandered—noticing how her collarbone peeked just slightly from the edge of his shirt. It slipped again off one shoulder, exposing the curve of it, and the memory of her teenage self wearing his hoodies flashed vividly in his mind.
He looked away quickly, cheeks faintly flushed.
"The twins drew you a get-well card," he said, clearing his throat. "You'll see it when they are done.."
Taehyungie gave a small nod, her body leaning slightly to the side as drowsiness tugged at her.
Before she could fully slump, Jungkook reached out instinctively and supported her head.
"Sleep," he said, brushing her bangs away once more.
"I'll be right here."
And as her lashes lowered again, breathing slowly evening out, Jungkook sat quietly by the bed—watching, waiting, and holding his promise in the silence.
Few hours later, Taehyungie stirred again. Her limbs felt heavy, but the scent of something sweet and warm lingered in the air—lavender from the laundry.
Then came a knock. Tiny, soft.
"Mama?" a little voice called.
Taehyungie sat up slowly, adjusting the oversized shirt she wore. "Come in," she called, still hoarse.
The door swung open, and Taehyun and Taeri tiptoed inside, crayon-streaked fingers clutching their masterpieces.
"We made you something!" Taeri beamed.
They both climbed onto the bed, laying the drawings carefully on her lap.
Taehyungie's lips parted as she took them in. One was a messy but clearly loving depiction of her and the twins holding hands under a sun, with the words "Get Well Soon Mama" scrawled in rainbow letters, crooked but visible. The other was a heart filled with smiling faces, flowers, and a tiny scribble that said "I wuv you Mama".
Her throat closed up.
"Oh babies..." she whispered, pulling them into her arms.
"These are beautiful."
Taehyun hugged her waist tightly. "You're not allowed to be sick anymore, okay?"
"Yeah!" Taeri echoed. "No more being sad or sleepy or hurting. We like it when you smile."
Taehyungie's eyes welled. She kissed both their heads, hugging them tighter than ever.
Jungkook stood at the door, watching. He hadn't meant to interrupt, but the scene froze him in place. Taehyungie's tired smile, her arms around their children, the crayon hearts clutched between them—this was the family he'd missed, the life he could've had sooner... if he hadn't let fear and pride win.
--
The days passed like the soft wind that rustled the trees surrounding the villa—quiet, steady, and full of change. Jungkook still hadn't heard from Eunwoo, and though that gnawed at the back of his mind like a ticking clock, his focus remained rooted in the present.
In her.
Taehyungie.
Her color had returned. The bags beneath her eyes faded gradually, replaced by a soft flush on her cheeks and the spark of quiet determination. She moved more now—tucked the twins in, helped braid Taeri's hair, even chased Taehyun when he tried to skip brushing his teeth.
Today, Jungkook found her in the kitchen.
The sunlight slanted across her features, warm and golden as she stirred a small pot of porridge. The twins sat at the breakfast table, coloring again, chatting loudly about whether dinosaurs liked soup.
Taehyungie sensed Jungkook behind her. She turned slightly.
"Good morning," she said—still cool, still distant, but her voice lacked the ice it once carried.
"Morning," Jungkook replied, softer than usual.
A pause.
"Thanks... for taking care of me," she muttered, eyes still on the pot. "And the kids too. For everything."
Jungkook blinked, his heart stuttering. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he said, stepping closer but not too close.
Taehyungie didn't reply, but he saw it—the flicker in her expression, the way her grip on the wooden spoon loosened. She wasn't ready to forgive, but she wasn't shutting him out anymore.
The twins didn't notice the tension, or maybe they were just used to this quiet dance between their parents. When Taeri spotted him, she squealed.
"Daddy! Mama made rice porridge with the smiley faces like she used to!"
Taehyun added proudly, "We helped! I gave the pot a stir too!"
Taehyungie rolled her eyes with a faint smile. "You dropped the spoon inside the pot."
Jungkook chuckled, his chest warming. He stepped forward and kissed the tops of both their heads. "Smells amazing in here."
As they all sat down to eat together, the air was lighter than it had been in weeks. Laughter returned—first through the children's chatter, and then through short smiles exchanged over bowls and silly jokes.
Later that afternoon, the twins sat cross-legged on the carpet video-calling their beloved aunts.
" Aunt Jinnieee," Taeri chirped through the tablet. "Mama is okay now! She made soup!"
"And she didn't even throw up today!" Taehyun added proudly, earning a tired groan from Taehyungie off-camera.
On the screen, Jinnie gasped dramatically. "You guys are growing up too fast. You're already monitoring Mama's health!"
Jiminie popped into view beside her, blowing kisses. "We miss you guys so much."
The call ended with promises of drawings and a big sleepover once they returned.
That night, as Taehyungie tucked the kids in and Jungkook watched her from the doorway, he realized something:
The wounds between them hadn't vanished. But they were no longer bleeding.
They were healing—slowly, carefully. And maybe... that was enough for now.
--
The villa had fallen into its usual nighttime hush. The twins were finally tucked into bed after a day full of coloring, giggling, and storytime. Taehyungie, though exhausted, walked with her usual grace to her bedroom, her feet soft against the warm floorboards.
She had barely settled down when a knock came at her door.
"Come in," she called softly, already knowing who it was.
Jungkook entered with the familiar brown tray in hand. "Your meds," he said gently, offering her the glass of water and tablets.
Taehyungie sat upright and took them without complaint. She'd grown used to this routine—his quiet care, his constant checking in. As she handed him back the empty glass, their fingers brushed.
And then, she noticed it.
He was staring.
Deeply, wholly—like she was something sacred.
Taehyungie blinked. "What?" she asked warily.
Jungkook didn't speak immediately. Instead, his hand lifted almost unconsciously, and before she could stop him, he reached forward and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
Taehyungie flinched. Just slightly. But enough.
Still, her stomach fluttered.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook said quietly, but his voice didn't waver. "I'm just... I'm happy you're well. You scared me. More than I can say."
His voice cracked a little at the end.
Taehyungie looked into his eyes, searching for the usual cocky flicker or the smooth arrogance he once carried. But there was none. Only vulnerability. Regret.
And something else.
Warmth.
Their faces were close now. She could feel his breath, could see the way his lashes lowered slightly as he leaned in—hesitant, like he wasn't even aware of what he was doing.
And yet, she leaned in too.
Just a little.
Just enough to feel the ghost of what they used to be.
Until reality slammed back into her.
She gasped softly, snapping away from him like she'd touched fire. Jungkook froze, blinking as though waking up from a dream.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, stepping back immediately. "I'm sorry. That— I didn't mean—"
Taehyungie raised her hand to stop him, her expression hardening. "Don't," she said sharply, but her voice shook. "Don't do that again."
Jungkook nodded, ashamed. "I know. I wasn't thinking. I— I'll go."
He turned and headed to the door, but just before leaving, he paused without facing her.
"I meant what I said, though," he said quietly. "About being scared... and about being happy you're better."
Then he left.
Taehyungie sat there for a long time, her heart thudding loud in her ears.
Damn him, she thought.
Damn his voice, his eyes, and the part of her that had wanted that moment to last just a little longer.
Her heart was anything but calm.
She moved and sat curled up on the patio outside her room, the moonlight kissing her skin as her phone buzzed softly in her palm. She quickly accepted the video call.
Jinnie's face popped up first, looking radiant even in her silk bonnet. "Taetae, you okay? You look—tired."
Seconds later, Jiminie appeared on the screen too, wrapped in a pink blanket with a mug in her hands. "Did Jungkook do something again?" she asked, already frowning.
At the mention of his name, Taehyungie's lip trembled. And suddenly, everything she'd been holding back rushed out.
"I can't do this!" she burst, her voice cracking. "I can't forgive him!"
Jinnie and Jimin stilled.
"He hurt me!" Taehyungie screamed into the silence. "He ruined me! I gave him everything—my first love, my heart, my body—and he treated me like I was nothing!"
She was sobbing now, face blotched with frustration and grief. "Do you know what it felt like? Being seventeen and pregnant, alone, scared—humiliated. He left me! Left me with his babies!"
Jiminie bit her lip hard, her eyes wet. "Tae..."
"And now he wants to act like this family man, like the same kids he denied are suddenly his world." Her voice dropped into a bitter whisper. "He looks at me like he regrets it. Like he loves me. But it's bullshit!"
"Tae—" Jinnie started gently, but Taehyungie shook her head furiously.
"I don't care if he cooks or cleans or carries me to the damn bathtub," she snapped. "It's too late! I died back then. And he didn't even know."
The silence was heavy before Jinnie finally spoke. "I know he messed up... I know. But Taehyungie... I see him now. He's different."
Taehyungie scoffed, wiping her eyes angrily.
"He's been patient. Gentle. And Tae... I think he hates what he did."
"I don't care."
Jiminie hesitated before adding, "When Taeri got shot and he realized she was his daughter, I've never seen someone fall apart like that, Tae. That wasn't fake."
Taehyungie clutched her chest. It hurt to hear. Because deep down, she knew it was true.
She knew Jungkook regretted everything.
But it wasn't enough.
Not for the nights she cried herself to sleep in a foreign country.
Not for the pain of giving birth without him.
Not for the years of raising their children alone.
"I want to believe it," she whispered. "But I'm not ready. Not yet."
Her friends watched her in aching sympathy as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.
"I loved him so much, I lost myself," she said. "And now that he's back... I'm scared I'll lose myself again."
Jinnie's eyes softened "Tae... no one is asking you to forgive him overnight," she said softly. "But don't shut down completely."
"I'm not shutting down," Taehyungie replied, her voice hoarse. "I'm protecting myself."
Jiminie looked into the screen, her voice low and honest. "I hate him too, Tae. God, I wanted to destroy him."
Taehyungie gave a bitter chuckle.
Jinnie leaned forward slightly, her voice more motherly now. "You don't have to love him again, but... maybe let yourself see the man he is now, not just the boy he was."
Taehyungie's jaw clenched. Her voice was firmer this time.
"No."
Jiminie blinked. "Tae—"
"I said no, Jiminie," she snapped. Her voice cracked slightly again, not from anger—but from the ache in her chest. "He doesn't get to hurt me and then be my savior later. That's not how it works. I won't be weak again."
"You're not weak," Jinnie assured. "You've never been."
"I am when I'm around him," Taehyungie whispered, defeated. "He looks at me and I forget. For a second, I forget all the pain. And then I hate myself for it."
Silence fell.
Jiminie sighed quietly, her gaze heavy with empathy. "So what now? You just stay angry forever?"
Taehyungie closed her eyes. "I don't know. I just... I'm not ready. Maybe I never will be."
Jinnie's voice trembled. "That's okay. Just promise us one thing."
Taehyungie met her eyes. "What?"
"Don't carry it alone anymore. You've done that long enough."
Taehyungie's lips trembled again, but she nodded silently.
They stayed on the call for a while longer, talking softly—about the twins, about the upcoming fashion event in Paris, about Jinnie's latest food recipe and Jiminie's pout since Yoongi left—but the heaviness lingered.
And when the call finally ended and the screen went dark, Taehyungie sat in the silence, heart aching with the weight of truths she wasn't ready to unpack.
--
The soft hum of the villa filled the early morning air—the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen, birdsong from the garden, and the occasional giggle from the playroom. Sunlight filtered through the linen curtains in Taehyungie's room, but the warmth didn't quite reach her bones.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing. Her hands were curled around a lukewarm cup of tea she hadn't touched. Her heart throbbed with something she couldn't name—grief, guilt, confusion, longing. Maybe all of it.
A gentle knock broke the silence.
"Taehyungie?" came Jungkook's quiet voice from the other side. "Just checking if you're okay."
She didn't answer.
A few seconds passed. "The twins already had breakfast. They're in the playroom if you want to see them."
Still, she didn't speak. Footsteps slowly retreated.
Her throat tightened.
She stood abruptly, setting the cup down and grabbing her robe. She walked toward the hallway, barefoot and quiet. From the staircase, she could hear the faint sound of laughter—Taehyun's giggle and Taeri's sweet chatter. She approached, and her breath caught in her throat.
Jungkook was crouched down on the carpeted floor, building a small block tower with the twins. His sleeves were rolled up, a faint smudge of jelly on his jaw. He looked... tired. But peaceful. Like this was exactly where he was meant to be.
"Daddy! That block goes here!" Taeri instructed, pointing.
Jungkook chuckled, eyes crinkling. "Yes, ma'am. Taeri-ah, are you sure you don't want to be an architect instead of a fairy princess?"
"Nope! Princesses can build castles too!" she beamed.
And just like that, Taehyungie's heart clenched.
He wasn't that boy anymore. He wasn't the nineteen-year-old who had chosen denial and pride. He was here now—showing up for them, inch by inch. He cooked, bathed them, told them stories, remembered Taeri liked warm socks and Taehyun liked one more bedtime hug.
She didn't notice when tears slid down her cheeks.
She turned around quickly before they could see her and went to the kitchen. She tried making coffee, hands trembling slightly. Her mind was chaos. She wanted to yell at him again. Tell him she didn't need his help. But the truth?
The truth was she didn't know what to do anymore.
A few minutes later, she felt his presence behind her—quiet, careful.
"You okay?" Jungkook asked gently.
She stiffened. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Jungkook paused. "I just... You didn't eat much last night."
"I wasn't hungry."
"I made toast and boiled eggs. Just in case."
Taehyungie hated how her heart warmed.
She nodded slightly and murmured, "Thanks."
As he left the plate on the counter, their eyes met—just for a second.
In his eyes, there was no pressure. No expectations. Just sincerity.
And maybe that's what made it worse.
Because it would've been easier if he were still the jerk who broke her.
It would've been easier if he didn't look at her like she was everything he lost and everything he hoped to earn back.
She turned away again, blinking rapidly.
"Taehyungie..."
"Just go."
He hesitated—then slowly stepped away.
She stood there, gripping the counter, barely breathing.
Because she knew the truth now.
She wasn't angry because he hadn't changed.
She was angry because he had.
And her heart... was starting to believe him.
With quick steps she heads back to her room she sat on the floor instead, back leaning against the wall, knees drawn to her chest. Her arms circled her legs tightly, head resting atop them.
She was quiet. Still.
But her face was damp.
Tears streamed silently down her cheeks—no gasping, no sobbing, no sound. Just the slow, aching release of a woman who'd held in far too much for far too long.
She didn't even know when the tears had started.
A single tear slid down the slope of her nose and fell onto her wrist.
She didn't move.
It hurt—the way her heart clenched when Jungkook looked at her with soft eyes, like he still saw her. It hurt even more that part of her wanted to believe he did. That he was back. That he was different.
But five years ago, when she told him she was pregnant.
He told her to get rid of it. No hesitation.
He'd turned away like she meant nothing.
How could she forget that? And how he spoke to her after 3 years of break-up just because of a dare?
How could she forgive him?
Her throat tightened painfully. Her lips trembled, but she made no sound.
She didn't want the kids to hear.
She didn't want Jungkook to hear.
She didn't want anyone to see her like this—raw, broken, and desperately confused. Because despite everything, she still loved him. And that terrified her more than anything.
A quiet, invisible war raged inside her.
And all she could do was cry... silently.
Because sometimes, the loudest heartbreak was the one no one could hear.
--
The villa had settled into its usual calm rhythm, quiet and routine. But beneath its peaceful surface, everything had changed.
It had been two months.
Three months since the sniper. Two months since Taehyungie's collapse. Two months of recovery, slow healing... and silence.
Eunwoo's call had come earlier that day. Jungkook had listened quietly as Eunwoo updated him.
"We finally got access to one of her people," Eunwoo said grimly. "But he fled. We're tracking him, but they're well-protected. This will take time."
Jungkook had gripped the phone tighter. "Then keep going. Find them. I'll handle things here."
But what exactly was he handling?
Because lately, it felt like the distance between him and Taehyungie had grown wider with every passing day. She barely spoke to him anymore. When she did, her voice was clipped and cool. She'd thank him when necessary, nod politely when he helped—but nothing more. No warmth. No softness.
And he understood. He deserved it.
But God, it still hurt.
He watched the twins from the kitchen window as they giggled in the garden with their mother. Taehyungie smiled easily with them, tickling Taeri as Taehyun clung to her arm. Their laughter filled the air, sweet and unburdened. Jungkook smiled too—but it didn't reach his eyes.
Later that evening, as he tucked the kids into bed, humming lowly as they clutched their stuffed toys, he heard Taehyungie's voice drift from her room.
She was on the phone. Her tone was soft but strained.
"I can't keep doing this, Joon. I'm tired. I want to leave. I can't stay here with him any longer... it's suffocating."
Jungkook stood frozen outside her door.
He didn't stay to hear the rest. He turned, quietly walking down the corridor and back into the shadows of the villa. He didn't see the way Taehyungie pressed the phone tighter to her ear, her brows furrowed as Namjoon sighed gently on the other end.
"I know you're tired, Tae," Namjoon said. "But I've seen Jungkook. He's different. He's not who he was five years ago. We stopped being friends after what he did to you and I've also known Jungkook too since we were kids. I've seen a change Tae. I'm not saying you should forgive him but at least listen to what he has to say."
"Okay," Taehyungie said quietly. "But maybe it's already too late."
Two Days Later
The evening was cool, wind brushing lightly through the trees as the sun dipped low behind the hills. The villa was calm—too calm. The kids were already tucked in, murmuring sleepily in their beds.
Jungkook was walking toward the kitchen when Taehyungie's voice stopped him.
"Jungkook," she said, standing just at the edge of the hall. "Can we talk?"
He turned slowly, meeting her eyes. They were unreadable, but calm.
"...Yeah."
She led the way out to the balcony, and he followed. The air was crisp, stars twinkling above. The wind lifted her hair gently as she leaned against the railing.
Jungkook stood beside her, the silence stretching between them.
"I heard you that night," he said softly.
Taehyungie blinked. "What?"
"I heard you tell Namjoon... that you wanted to leave."
She looked away, embarrassed, but didn't deny it.
I don't blame you," he added. "I wouldn't want to stay with me either."
Taehyungie's throat tightened, her eyes locked on the distant city lights. But her voice broke the silence—low, almost a whisper.
"I was alone."
Jungkook's breath caught.
Taehyungie didn't look at him as she spoke. Her tone trembled, each word careful, as though spilling from wounds she hadn't dared touch for years.
"You broke my heart twice, Jungkook," she said. "Once when I was thirteen... when you looked me in the eye and let me go without a fight. And again... that night. The dare."
A tear slipped down her cheek, glinting in the moonlight. "Do you know what it felt like? Carrying our children—your children—alone in a foreign country, while you walked away like I meant nothing?"
Jungkook turned to her fully, his throat tight, his eyes burning. "Tae..."
"I wanted to hate you," she whispered. "I still want to hate you. I wake up and tell myself you're the reason I lost so much. That you don't deserve even an inch of me."
Her voice cracked.
"But then I see you with them," she said, voice cracking as her tears flowed more freely now. "The way you protect them. The way they look at you. And I can't hate you."
Jungkook closed his eyes.
Tears rolled silently down his cheeks.
"I was a fool," he said softly, voice hoarse. "God, I was such a fool, Taehyungie."
She looked at him then—really looked at him—and saw the tears falling freely from his lashes, the raw, unguarded pain in his face.
"I held onto my pride like it was worth something. When we were kids, I loved you so deeply it terrified me. Mina... she told me that loving too much would ruin me. That if we ever broke up, I'd never survive it."
He laughed bitterly through his tears. "And she was right. Because I didn't survive it. I lost my sanity the day we ended. I wasn't myself anymore."
A tear slipped from her face.
"You think the dare was just a game to me?" he asked, voice shaking. "It was the only way I could be close to you again. I couldn't talk to you. Couldn't approach you without feeling like I was drowning in regret. That stupid game... it gave me one night. One night to pretend you were still mine."
Taehyungie's breath hitched.
"I hated myself the moment you walked away in tears," Jungkook said. "And I was too much of a coward to run after you. So I let it happen again. I chose pride again. And I lost you. And when i had another chance, I did it again."
He stepped closer. Carefully. Slowly.
And reached out to take her hand.
This time... she didn't pull away.
"I know sorry will never be enough," he whispered. "But if you let me—even a little—I'll spend every day proving to you that I'm not the same boy who left you crying. I'll be the man you and our children deserve."
Taehyung looked down at their hands—his large, calloused one wrapped around hers. She didn't speak. Her lips trembled. Her eyes were glazed with more tears, but her heart?
Still guarded. Still aching. But listening.
For the first time... listening.
Jungkook's chest rose and fell erratically, the emotion in him too thick to suppress. His hands shook. And then—without another word—he dropped to his knees in front of her.
The sound of it made Taehyungie flinch.
Her eyes widened as Jungkook bowed his head, shoulders trembling, voice breaking like glass.
"I'm sorry."
He gripped her hands tightly, like letting go meant losing her again. His voice came out in ragged gasps, his forehead nearly pressed to her thighs.
"I'm so, so sorry, Taehyungie. For everything. For not fighting for you. For walking away. For not coming after you. For hurting you when I should've loved you. I swear—on everything—I would take it all back if I could."
Taehyungie stared at him, frozen. Her hands trembled inside his. Her throat tightened painfully.
But she didn't speak.
Jungkook's sobs grew louder. He lifted his head slowly, his red eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. "Please... if it takes days or years—I'll wait. Just don't give up on me. Don't give up on us. I can't lose you again."
Taehyungie blinked. Her own tears were sliding freely now, falling down her cheeks in silence.
But she didn't look at him.
She looked straight ahead, her voice cold and quiet.
"I don't know if I can forgive you, Jungkook."
His breath caught.
"Because right now..." she said, still not looking at him, "my heart is still cold. I still feel the echoes of every night I cried myself to sleep. I still remember the way you looked at me... like I meant nothing."
Jungkook shook his head furiously. "No—no, Taehyungie, I was broken. I was—"
"Maybe you were a coward," she cut in, eyes hard. "And maybe you're asking for forgiveness now. But I'm still hurting. I lived in that pain. I carried it. I raised our children with it."
Finally, she looked down at him—her face wet with tears, her eyes glassy but strong.
"If you want forgiveness..." her voice softened but carried weight, "you have to earn it. You have to prove that you're worth trusting again."
Jungkook stared up at her, lips trembling.
He nodded fiercely, quickly, desperately.
"I will. I promise. I'll prove it every damn day. I'll never stop. I'll never hurt you again. I swear it, Tae. I swear."
Taehyungie pulled her hands away gently.
And turned.
Without another word, she walked away—her steps silent, her figure slowly swallowed by the hallway's dimness until she disappeared behind her bedroom door.
Jungkook remained kneeling on the cold stone of the balcony, his hands falling to his lap, his sobs silent now but no less intense.
He tilted his head back, eyes closed.
And whispered, to no one and to her:
"I'll try harder. No matter what... I'll try harder."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 25: Danger
Chapter Text
The sun poured into the villa slowly, spilling golden light across the marble floors and soft carpets. It was calm—too calm for how Jungkook had fallen asleep.
He had ended the night alone on the balcony, knees to his chest, eyes swollen from crying, the chill of the night soaking into his bones. He hadn't heard Taehyungie retreat to her room. But he remembered everything.
Her words.
Her tears.
Her pain.
And the quiet strength she showed even when broken.
He stirred awake on the balcony lounger to the distant sound of something sizzling. He blinked, disoriented, rubbing his eyes and checking his watch. 6:49 a.m.
He scrambled up and rushed inside.
The villa was already alive.
He found the twins yawning and rubbing their eyes in the hallway.
"Daddy..." Taeri mumbled, reaching out.
He scooped her into his arms instinctively, brushing her hair. "Good morning, sweetheart."
Taehyun followed, dragging his stuffed bunny.
Then the smell hit him—eggs, toast, something warm and sweet. Jungkook blinked as he stepped into the kitchen.
There, barefoot and quiet, Taehyungie stood by the stove.
Hair pulled into a low bun. A pink robe covering over her frame. A soft playlist murmuring in the background. She looked so familiar it made his heart ache.
She turned at the sound of footsteps.
Her eyes met his. Calm. Tired. Not warm, but not as cold as before.
"Good morning," she said quietly.
Jungkook swallowed and nodded, voice still rough. "Good morning."
She took out two plates and placed toast and scrambled eggs on each, along with chopped fruit. "Sit. They need to eat first."
Jungkook guided the twins to their chairs and helped them sit, watching as they giggled at the banana milk already placed before them.
As he sat beside them, Taehyungie brought over the plates, then finally placed a black coffee in front of him.
He stared at it for a second, just how he liked it.
"Thank you," he murmured, glancing up at her.
She didn't respond—just nodded and took her own seat. She didn't say much, but she let her presence speak.
Then came the first shift.
As Taeri giggled at the milk foam mustache on Taehyun's face, Taehyungie let out the softest snort. It wasn't a full laugh, but Jungkook noticed. And it made his heart flutter.
He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear, watching the kids. He was careful not to stare too long, but it was hard. The morning light hit her so gently, she looked... peaceful. Tired, yes. Wounded. But not closed off like before.
She looked up then and caught him staring.
He dropped his gaze immediately, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee.
She smirked faintly. "You're staring again."
Jungkook looked up, eyes wide. "Sorry."
Taehyungie shook her head. "You gave all your genes to these two," she said, gesturing to the twins. "It's kind of scary how much they act like you."
Jungkook blinked, and then slowly, a small smile curled at his lips. "You think so?"
She nodded, drinking her tea. "Taeri raises one eyebrow like you do when she's annoyed. And Taehyun clenches his jaw the same way when he's focused."
He chuckled softly, eyes softening. "Well... they got your spirit."
Her gaze flickered to him for a second — and she didn't argue.
The silence after that wasn't tense. Just quiet.
And for the first time in months, Jungkook felt like maybe — just maybe — he was beginning to chip at the ice around her heart.
Later in the afternoon
The villa was unusually peaceful for a Saturday afternoon. The warm light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue over the living room as the twins sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, watching Frozen with wide-eyed excitement. The scent of buttered popcorn hung in the air like a familiar comfort.
"Elsa is my favorite," Taeri mumbled with a mouthful of popcorn.
"No! Anna's better," Taehyun argued, shaking his head fiercely.
Their parents sat on the couch behind them. Jungkook leaned into the corner, arms folded, watching the screen with occasional glances at the kids. Taehyungie, a little further down, sat with one leg tucked under the other, her arms crossed over a throw pillow on her lap.
Popcorn crumbs, juice packs, and toys were scattered everywhere.
Taehyungie sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "They've turned the living room into a circus again," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Jungkook tilted his head. "I'll clean it up later."
"It's fine. I'll do it," Taehyungie said, already moving to rise.
But as she stepped forward, her foot met the edge of a hard plastic car left behind. It spun out from under her and she yelped—falling with a soft thud not onto the floor, but into the couch.
Right into Jungkook's side.
He froze.
Her hands had instinctively caught his arm, her cheek momentarily pressed to his shoulder, but it was brief. Taehyungie immediately pushed herself off him, flustered, brushing down her sweater and muttering, "I'm fine."
"You sure?" Jungkook asked softly, watching her from the corner of his eye.
She didn't meet his gaze. "It's just a toy car. Not the first time one's tried to kill me."
Jungkook chuckled quietly but didn't press further. He leaned forward and began gathering the popcorn bowls and juice boxes without another word.
Taehyungie blinked. "I said I'd clean."
"And I said I will," he replied simply.
She watched him for a moment, then sank back onto the couch with a soft sigh. "Suit yourself."
The kids were too lost in the magic of the movie to notice anything. Their little heads swayed with the music, fingers sticky from syrupy drinks.
As Jungkook cleaned the floor silently, Taehyungie's gaze lingered on him for a second longer than usual. Her heart still guarded, still cold... but no longer frozen.
--
An hour and half later
The living room was a wreck, but it was the kind of beautiful chaos only kids could create. Popcorn kernels dotted the carpet like confetti, a pillow fort had been half-assembled near the TV, and the soundtrack of Tangled now played joyfully through the speakers.
The twins were far from tired. If anything, Frozen had only powered them up.
"I'm Flynn Rider!" Taehyun yelled, grabbing one of the throw pillows and holding it like a satchel. He ducked behind the couch with dramatic flair. "You'll never catch me!"
Taeri, ever the performer, stood proudly on top of the rug with a pink towel draped over her head like a golden mane. "You will return my crown!" she declared, flinging the towel dramatically. "Or suffer the wrath of my magic hair!"
Jungkook nearly choked on his own laughter. He sat cross-legged behind the kids, leaning forward with his hand covering his mouth as he burst into full-on laughter—carefree and genuine. His head tilted back slightly, and his bunny teeth peeked out in that way Taehyungie remembered too well from the past. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a warmth filled the room that made it feel like time paused for a second.
From the kitchen, Taehyungie glanced up, the butter knife pausing mid-slice over the bread. Her eyes found the living room — and him.
Jungkook's laughter rang like wind chimes on a spring day, smooth and unexpected. She blinked. It had been so long since she'd heard him laugh like that. Really laugh. And for a moment, she just stood there, watching the image.
The kids squealed, their faces nearly mirrors of their father's as they giggled and chased each other across the room. Taehyun jumped onto the couch, nearly slipping, while Taeri tossed the towel and shouted lines from the movie, her tiny fists curled in dramatic flair.
"Daddy! Help me catch the thief!" Taeri cried, pointing to Taehyun, who was mid-escape behind a cushion.
Jungkook wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and stood up, his voice playful. "Oh no, I'm not getting in the middle of this war," he teased. "I like my hair the way it is!"
The twins burst into renewed laughter.
Taehyungie bit back a smile and sighed softly to herself. She turned back to the sandwiches she was making — peanut butter and banana, with little apple slices on the side, the way the twins liked it. Her chest tightened a little as she exhaled.
It was loud. It was messy. But it felt oddly like something real — something whole. And yet, part of her still ached.
Not from bitterness. But from all the time she lost.
She returned from the kitchen with a tray in her hands, carefully balanced with sandwiches shaped like stars and bunnies — the twins' special request. She set it down gently on the small table in front of the couch, then handed Jungkook a sandwich without a word.
He looked up in surprise. "Thanks," he murmured, their fingers brushing briefly. Taehyungie nodded, turning back to hand the twins theirs as they beamed with excitement.
Just as Jungkook took a bite, his phone buzzed.
EUNWOO.
He stiffened slightly. "Excuse me," he said, rising to his feet quickly. Taehyungie's eyes followed him silently as he disappeared down the hallway toward his study, something shifting in her chest.
In the study, Jungkook shut the door and answered, voice low. "Yeah?"
"I've got bad news," Eunwoo sighed on the other end. "We found a lead. One of the men who was part of the shot. But by the time my team got there...he was gone. Vanished. Like he'd been warned."
Jungkook clenched his jaw. "So we're back to square one?"
"I'm afraid so. I'd advise you to stay at the villa. Lay low, keep Taehyungie and the kids safe."
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, frustration simmering just beneath his skin. "Alright. Thanks, Eunwoo."
"Stay alert, Jungkook."
When he returned to the living room, sandwich half-eaten in one hand, Taehyungie's eyes immediately flicked up. "That Eunwoo?"
Jungkook gave a small nod as he sat down again, the warmth of the children's laughter surrounding them. "They're still searching."
Taehyungie studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Of course," she muttered, but her gaze lingered. Her thoughts wandered—unbidden—until she looked at him with a small, amused smirk.
"So," she said teasingly, her voice light. "When's the wedding?"
Jungkook blinked, startled. "...Wedding?"
"With Seoyoon," Taehyungie clarified with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "The announcement your father made. She seems like your type — elegant, graceful, your father's favorite. The two of you made quite the pair at dinner."
For a moment, Jungkook just stared at her.
And something in him froze — shattered, even.
She had said it so casually.
So easily, like the idea didn't bother her. Like it never had. Like it never could.
As if there was nothing between them anymore. No remnants of the love they once shared. No sting in the idea of him belonging to someone else.
Jungkook's chest tightened. A hollow ache bloomed in his gut.
Is that really how little I mean to her now?
Like I was never loved? Never missed?
He swallowed, trying to hold onto the air in his lungs.
"It's not happening," he said at last, voice clipped.
Taehyungie raised an eyebrow at how vague his response was, but before she could press further, the twins broke out into more giggles.
Then the name again made his heart thunder with guilt. He didn't want Taehyungie to push him away again.
So he swallowed the truth.
He didn't tell her Seoyoon was dead.
He didn't tell her Seoyoon had ordered the hit that nearly killed their daughter.
"Mama is the princess!" Taeri shouted. "And daddy is the thief!"
"Flynn Rider!" Taehyun chimed in, his arms out dramatically. "He's handsome, right?"
Taehyungie chuckled softly. "Well, that's a stretch."
It was meant to be lighthearted. Playful. But the jab landed too close to home.
Jungkook's smile faded just slightly. Her tone was teasing, but the cold edge underneath it scraped against the rawest parts of him. He didn't say anything in response, just looked ahead at the TV, his jaw tightening.
The twins remained blissfully unaware, singing along with the movie.
And beside them, their parents sat — a little too close, a little too far, still haunted by truths left unsaid.
--
Night time
The villa was finally quiet.
Dinner had been a gentle affair — laughter from the twins, quiet nods between the adults, and the hum of cartoons still lingering in the background. Now, the dishes were washed, the toys tucked away, and the mess of the day cleaned. The air was peaceful, sleepy.
Taehyungie moved through the hallway softly, her arms cradling her drowsy children after their bath. Taeri's head leaned against her shoulder, damp hair smelling faintly of lavender. Taehyun dragged his tiny blanket behind him, eyes fluttering.
"Come on, my babies," she whispered with a warm smile, guiding them into bed.
After they were tucked in with kisses on their cheeks and little whispers of "I love you", Taehyungie turned off the lamp, the faint glow of the hallway spilling into the room. She closed the door gently and padded back to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water. She sipped slowly, the coolness grounding her.
As she turned to leave, she paused.
Jungkook was standing a few feet away in the adjacent room, his tall frame bathed in the pale light of a screen. His brows were drawn tight as he scrolled through the villa's security footage — a nightly routine since Eunwoo's last call. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp.
He looked... tired.
"Still nothing?" she asked quietly.
Jungkook blinked and turned, only just noticing her. His gaze softened. "No. Just checking again."
Taehyungie gave a small nod and made to leave, brushing past the doorway, when—
"Wait," Jungkook said, voice low but clear.
She stopped.
He stepped out from behind the desk, his hoodie hanging loosely on his frame, his hair tousled from running his hand through it too many times.
"I... I was going to watch something," he said, almost nervously. "Would you—maybe—watch with me?"
Taehyungie blinked. "Why?"
Jungkook shrugged, eyes dropping briefly. "Just want to share some time... With you. If that's okay."
Her hand tightened slightly around the glass.
She sighed, stepping back slightly. "I'm tired, Jungkook."
"I know," he said, voice softening. "But it's just one episode. We don't have to talk. You can leave halfway if you want."
His doe eyes were soft — too soft — and something about them made her chest ache in a confusing way. They reminded her so much of Taeri and Taehyun. Big, round, hopeful.
Taehyungie hesitated. "You're impossible."
A small, hopeful smile crept onto his lips. "So... you'll watch it?"
She rolled her eyes, fighting the tug at the corner of her mouth. "One episode. That's it."
Jungkook nodded quickly, already reaching for the remote. "Deal."
As they moved into the cozy sitting area, neither of them spoke of what it meant — but something small shifted in the silence.
And maybe... just maybe... it was the beginning of something softer.
--
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the television reflecting in their eyes as they sat side by side. A mellow drama unfolded on the screen — not too loud, not too quiet — just enough to fill the silence between them.
Jungkook didn't dare look directly at her, not when her arms were folded loosely, not when her breathing was calm and distant. She wasn't tense like she used to be — but she wasn't relaxed either.
Taehyungie sat still, watching the screen, but her mind wandered.
Memories crept in, uninvited.
It used to be different. Back when they were thirteen, sixteen... a movie night always ended in tangled limbs, flushed cheeks, sleepy kisses hidden behind blankets, and soft snores in Jungkook's oversized room. His bed back then was nothing fancy, just a pile of comforters and pillows arranged with teenage effort — but it felt like a castle when she was wrapped in his warmth.
She smiled faintly to herself at the memory, heart aching at the innocence they'd once shared. The way Jungkook would always try to finish a movie but never did, distracted by her lips, her laugh, her smile.
Beside her, Jungkook risked a glance.
Taehyungie looked so still. So thoughtful. And so far away.
He remembered those same movie nights too — how she used to rest her head on his chest without hesitation, how she'd mumble half-asleep compliments about his scent or the way his fingers ran through her hair. He remembered those nights like they were burned into him.
And now they sat with an entire life between them.
One episode turned to two — neither of them noticing the time pass. Silence stretched, but it wasn't cold. It was... there.
Then, slowly, Taehyungie's head dropped softly onto Jungkook's shoulder.
He froze.
Her warmth bled into him — real, delicate, familiar. His body stiffened, his breath catching in his throat as he turned to glance down at her.
Fast asleep.
His lips parted slightly, not in surprise but awe. Her lashes fluttered faintly, her lips parted as she breathed in rhythm. She was so peaceful, so unguarded.
"Tae," he whispered gently, nudging her shoulder with the faintest movement.
She didn't stir.
He tried again, a bit more insistent — but nothing.
She was out.
A tired sigh left his lips. Of course, she'd always been a heavy sleeper. He gave a small shake of his head and carefully turned off the television.
Then, moving slowly, as if not to disturb a dream, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her bridal style with practiced ease.
He held her close.
Carrying her through the quiet villa, his eyes kept returning to her face — her soft features, her brows finally relaxed, her breathing steady.
She was so beautiful.
Once inside her room, Jungkook bent forward and gently laid her on the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. He turned slightly to leave—
But then he felt it.
Her fingers wrapped gently around his wrist.
He froze again.
That old habit.
Years ago, when they were teenagers, she always did that — catching his wrist when he tried to leave the bed first. Back then, he would've stayed. He would've pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple until she smiled in her sleep.
But they weren't those people anymore.
Carefully, he pried her fingers away, placing her hand gently by her side. He lingered for a second more, his heart pounding, then turned and walked out — closing the door behind him with a soft click.
In the quiet of his own room, Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, staring at nothing in particular.
That small moment — her leaning on him, holding his wrist — it meant everything.
And nothing.
But for now... it was enough.
--
In the warm, shadowed bedroom of the Kim residence, soft light filtered in through the curtains, illuminating skin and tangled sheets. Jinnie rested her head against Namjoon's bare chest, her fingers lazily tracing the outline of his collarbone. His arms were wrapped around her protectively, like he never wanted to let her go.
"Did you ever tell Taehyungie?" she asked softly, breaking the quiet.
Namjoon glanced down. "About?"
"How Jungkook came crying to you after she left for Paris. How he shattered," she whispered, voice gentle but laced with something heavy.
Namjoon exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "No... not yet. Maybe later. When she's ready."
Jinnie hummed and pressed a kiss to his chest. "I just want her to be happy again."
He kissed her temple, eyes softening. "Me too."
The next morning at the villa, laughter echoed faintly from the dining area. The twins giggled between bites of buttered toast and eggs, their banana milk staining their upper lips like little mustaches.
Taehyungie smiled softly as she wiped their mouths. Just a little peace. Just a little normal.
Then—ding dong.
The doorbell rang.
Her heart stuttered.
Jungkook stood, setting down his coffee. "I'll get it."
"No—" Taehyungie said quickly, stepping toward him. "Let one of the guards check—what if something happens to you?"
He stopped, turning to her, surprised.
She looked genuinely worried.
Touched by her concern, Jungkook gave a faint smile. "I'll be fine, Tae. I promise."
He turned and walked to the front door. But the guards were nowhere to be seen, only eerie silence. Jungkook's brows furrowed as he opened the door cautiously.
Nothing.
Except for a single brown envelope on the ground.
He picked it up, jaw tightening, eyes scanning the area. Still no sign of the guards. His pulse quickened in irritation and suspicion.
Inside, Taehyungie had begun walking toward him, anxiety written all over her face. Jungkook shut the door and opened the envelope slowly.
He froze.
His breath hitched.
"What is it?" Taehyungie asked, stepping closer, her eyes flickering between his face and the envelope.
Jungkook said nothing at first. Just pulled the first photo out and showed her.
Taehyungie's breath caught in her throat.
It was an old photo — one she hadn't even remembered existing. She was maybe twelve, curled up on Jungkook's lap, smiling, nose tucked into his neck. His arms had been wrapped around her. They looked inseparable. Unbreakable.
Now... red marker slashed across the photo in sharp lines.
One word scrawled across the bottom.
Eliminate.
Her hands trembled as Jungkook pulled out the next photo.
It was the twins.
A recent shot. Taehyungie didn't even know someone had taken it. The kids were laughing in the Kim Residence garden a few months ago — she remembered that moment clearly. Taeri had been holding a flower, Taehyun had been chasing a butterfly.
Both children's faces were crossed out in thick red ink.
Taehyungie gasped, stumbling slightly. She snatched the photo from Jungkook's hands, her voice shaking. "No... no, no—"
Tears welled in her eyes. "My babies... Jungkook—"
A sob broke from her chest as she clutched the image of her children, horror etched into every line of her face. She looked up at him, raw and broken.
"Will they be okay? Will we... will we be okay?"
Jungkook's jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the envelope. "Nothing—" his voice was low and dangerous, "nothing will happen to them. Or to you. I swear it."
He moved forward and held her by the shoulders, steadying her. His eyes were burning with protectiveness, with something deeper.
He gently pried the photo from her shaking hands and set it down.
Then, he reached into his pocket and dialed Eunwoo.
Back in the dining room, the twins were still humming the theme song of Rapunzel, blissfully unaware.
"Eunwoo," Jungkook said sharply into the phone, "we have a problem. Someone dropped a threat at the villa. I need full surveillance rechecked. Someone bypassed security."
Eunwoo's voice on the other end crackled with tension. "I'm on it. Stay put. Don't let the kids out of sight."
"I won't," Jungkook said, glancing back at the photos.
Taehyungie wiped her face quickly, forcing herself together. For the kids.
Jungkook looked over at her, silently vowing—
Whatever demons were coming, he'd face them all.
For her.
For their children.
For everything he once destroyed and now desperately needed to protect.
By mid-morning, the villa's once peaceful ambiance had morphed into something tense, electric, and alert.
Eunwoo arrived with his team in unmarked vehicles, blending with the forested terrain that surrounded the villa. Dressed in black tactical gear, the agents moved swiftly, combing the perimeter, rewinding security footage, testing the gate locks and door sensors for any sign of tampering.
Taehyungie sat rigid on the sofa, arms folded tightly across her chest. She watched the feed on one of the monitors as cameras played back the early morning footage in loops.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
"Someone dropped the envelope right at the door," one agent muttered to Eunwoo. "No one shows up on any camera. No one entered or exited through the main gate."
Jungkook stood with his jaw locked, arms crossed beside Eunwoo in the control room.
"Then how the hell did it get there?" he asked, his voice barely holding back his fury.
"We're checking thermal and secondary backups," Eunwoo assured him. "But... it's like they knew how to avoid the blind spots."
Jungkook muttered a curse, turning away as the monitors played on silently.
Downstairs, Taehyungie paced.
"I don't understand," she snapped, her voice shaking as she addressed the agent who approached her. "You're saying someone left this—" she held up the threatening photos now sealed in a protective evidence sleeve—"on our doorstep and no one saw anything?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Kim," the agent said gently. "We're doing all we can. But there's no trace—no prints, no footprints, not even a heat signature on the infrared scans. It's... unusual."
"Unusual?" she echoed, her tone cracking under the pressure of anxiety and fear. "That's my children's faces they crossed out. This isn't a warning anymore—it's a threat."
She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, pacing back and forth like a storm bottled into one person. "First, someone shot at my baby, now they sneak past trained guards and surveillance like ghosts?"
Jungkook stepped into the room quietly, watching her unravel.
"Tae..."
She turned to him sharply, her eyes glassy but fierce.
"I'm scared, Jungkook," she whispered, lowering her voice for the sake of the children who were still playing upstairs. "I don't care about myself—but those are our babies. And they want to hurt them."
"I know," he said, voice tight. "I swear I'm going to stop them."
"But how?!" she snapped, throwing her hands up. "They're slipping through everything! You, Eunwoo, all this money and power—and still they got through. What if next time it's not a photo? What if it's Taeri or Taehyun?"
Jungkook flinched.
The pain in her voice cut into him. Deeply.
He walked up to her slowly, steadying his tone. "You're right. I won't make any excuses. But I won't let them touch the kids. I'll die before that happens."
Her lip trembled, but she turned away before the emotion fully cracked through. "I'm going upstairs."
She left him standing there, fists clenched and heart sinking lower.
Eunwoo stepped in quietly. "We're going to reinforce everything. Double every layer of security. Add internal proximity alarms. But Jungkook... this isn't just an enemy. This is personal."
Jungkook stared up the stairs, thinking about the girl who once looked at him like he was her whole world—and now looked at him like a stranger trying to save it.
"I know," he muttered. "That's what makes it terrifying."
--
The security footage was paused, the faces frozen mid-frame, eerie and clean. The room was dim now—sunset casting amber streaks through the blinds of Jungkook's study.
Jungkook sat behind his desk, his face hard, jaw clenched as he scrolled through the threatening images again. The one of him and Taehyungie as teens... her curled on his lap, that familiar smile he hadn't seen in years. The red "X" across it felt like a dagger.
But the photo of the twins...
He closed his eyes for a second.
"They want me to break," he muttered. "And they're not afraid to use her or the kids to make it happen."
Eunwoo stood across from him, arms folded, his expression grim. "It's more than a scare tactic now. They knew exactly which photo would hit you hardest, and exactly how to deliver it without triggering anything."
"They're professionals." Jungkook's voice was cold. "Or worse—insiders."
Eunwoo nodded. "That's what I'm starting to think."
Jungkook looked up sharply. "You mean someone from the estate?"
"Someone who knows the gaps in your system. Someone who knew about Paris. About Taehyungie. Someone who's been watching for a long time."
Silence fell between them like thunder.
Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, fingers digging into his temples. "Seoyoon," he said finally. "I should've told her."
Eunwoo didn't respond right away. Then: "You're still protecting her?"
Jungkook let out a tired, bitter laugh. "No. I'm protecting Taehyungie. If I tell her what Seoyoon did... how do you think she'll feel? That she almost lost her child because of a grudge from jealousy? "
"She deserves to know," Eunwoo said carefully. "But I understand why you hesitate."
"I'm losing her," Jungkook admitted, voice dropping. "She talks to me, but it's cold. It's better than before, but I can feel the distance. She doesn't trust me. I ruined that. But I won't let anything else touch her."
Eunwoo leaned on the desk. "Then let me help. We reinforce the villa and set a trap. We plant false information—see if anyone inside takes the bait. If we're right, the leak will expose themselves."
Jungkook exhaled.
"I've made a thousand mistakes," he murmured. "But if something happens to Taehyungie or those kids... I won't survive it."
Eunwoo's eyes softened just slightly. "Then we don't let anything happen. You focus on protecting them—and maybe, just maybe, earning her back."
Jungkook swallowed hard, his voice quieter now.
"She used to hold my hand like it was the only thing that made her feel safe. Now she barely meets my eyes."
Eunwoo straightened up. "That's why we win this, Jungkook. Not just for their safety—but so she can live without fear again."
Jungkook nodded once, jaw tight. "Set the trap."
As Eunwoo left the room with a nod, Jungkook stared at the old photo again—Taehyungie's teenage smile, the one that used to be his whole world.
He whispered, "I'll fix this... even if it takes everything I have left."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 26: When the storm clears
Chapter Text
4 days later
The twins giggled as they colored with vibrant crayons, their tiny hands smudged with innocent mess. Taehyungie sat between them on the rug, guiding their hands with soft, encouraging words, her own fingers streaked with pastel pinks and blues.
It was a peaceful image — a lie wrapped in laughter.
Jungkook stood nearby, pacing slowly, mind spiraling in thoughts when his phone buzzed. He answered immediately, his voice dropping low.
"Eunwoo?"
"We got him," came the calm but firm reply. "He took the bait. The team's got him locked down. You want him brought in?"
Jungkook's body stiffened. He didn't even blink. "Bring him to the villa," he said tightly. "The dungeon."
Taehyungie's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "What's wrong?" she asked, rising slowly.
Jungkook turned to her, face unreadable—but his eyes burned.
"They caught him," he said.
Her lips parted. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides. "The one who—?"
He nodded.
Her knees nearly buckled from the rush of relief and fury. Her mouth opened but no words came. She just stood frozen for a moment before pulling herself together to smile faintly at the kids. "Nap time, loves."
Minutes later, she quietly tucked the twins into their beds, pressing soft kisses to their foreheads, her heart thudding like thunder in her chest. As she emerged from their room, she saw Jungkook leaving for the stairs down to the basement.
She stepped in front of him.
"I'm coming," she said.
He hesitated. "Tae—"
"I need to."
He didn't argue.
The dungeon was dim and cold, lit only by flickering industrial lights. A single man was slumped on a chair against the far wall, blood dripping from his nose, lip split, one eye already swollen shut.
He looked up—and smirked.
"Well, well," the man croaked. "Papa bear and mama bear."
Eunwoo's whip cracked before Jungkook even moved. The man let out a sharp grunt but chuckled, spitting blood to the side.
Taehyungie's breath came in sharp gasps. Her eyes flared with something feral.
Before anyone could stop her, she stormed forward, hand raised.
"Tae—!" Jungkook caught her wrist just before it landed.
She froze, trembling.
"Let me go," she hissed, her voice not breaking but cracking with rage.
He didn't.
"Even if you kill me," the man sneered, "you won't get answers. No one's gonna talk. You're just pretty corpses waiting to happen."
Taehyungie snapped.
She lunged again, screaming, but Jungkook pulled her back—arms locking around her waist from behind this time, stopping her.
"LET ME GO!" she screamed, kicking, crying, her voice echoing painfully through the chamber. "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS?!"
The man only smiled wider, his teeth red.
Taehyungie sobbed violently, fighting Jungkook's hold, pounding his chest with her fists—but he didn't let go.
"TAEHYUNGIE," Jungkook said, firm but low, his mouth close to her ear. "Look at me."
She resisted. He turned her around gently, hands cupping her tear-soaked cheeks.
"Look at me."
Her swollen eyes met his, glossy and full of grief. He held her gaze like it anchored them both.
"You're not going to lose yourself because of him," he said.
Her breath hitched.
"Calm down. For our kids. For yourself."
Her legs weakened and Jungkook wrapped his arms around her, pressing her face to his shoulder. She let him—for just a moment—as sobs wracked her body.
In the corner, Eunwoo watched quietly, jaw clenched.
The man in the chair leaned back, mocking smirk fading ever so slightly.
"One million," Jungkook said coldly. "You tell me the names and locations of the rest of your squad. Now."
The man's brow arched slightly, then he spat to the side. "Tempting," he muttered, looking past Jungkook — right at Taehyungie. "But I don't want money."
Jungkook's face didn't move, but his hands tightened.
The man's mouth curled into a wicked grin. "I want a night with her."
Taehyungie flinched. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening in revulsion. She staggered one step back.
Jungkook blinked slowly.
"I bet she's tighter now. Lonely. Cold," the man sneered. "Come on, Jeon. You've had her. Share the fun—"
CRACK!
Jungkook's fist collided with his jaw so hard the chair jolted back. The man coughed, laughing even as blood poured from his mouth.
"You mad?" the man rasped, head lolling back. "You got there first. Why can't someone else take a turn? Huh?"
Taehyungie gasped in horror, hand flying to her mouth.
"Filthy bastard—" Jungkook lunged again but Eunwoo was faster, swinging the cane down with brutal precision across the man's chest. The man groaned but still didn't cower.
"You think I'm scared of pain?" he growled. "You think this is new to me? I've dealt with worse than your pretty-boy fists."
Jungkook's chest heaved. His eyes—dark, bloodshot, murderous—never left the man.
"You ever speak about her again," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "and I will make sure you beg for death."
"You love her that much?" the man mocked. "Still simping for the girl who left you?"
Jungkook didn't answer. Instead, he took a slow step forward, crouched so he was eye-level, and leaned in.
"She didn't leave me," he whispered. "I drove her away. But that doesn't mean I won't kill for her."
The man laughed—just once—before Eunwoo struck him again. This time, the scream echoed through the chamber.
Jungkook turned back to Taehyungie. Her face was pale, hands shaking, but her chin was lifted. Strong. Wounded. Furious.
He stepped closer, his voice low. "You shouldn't have seen this. I'm sorry."
Taehyungie didn't speak right away, her gaze fixed on the bloodied man strapped to the chair. Her heart twisted with nausea and rage. She met Jungkook's eyes then—quiet, hurt, but present.
"He won't touch you," Jungkook swore, voice shaking. "Not now. Not ever."
They left the room together in silence, Jungkook's hand hovering at her back, close but not touching. The past had claws. But Jungkook's darkness had awakened—and this time, it was aimed in the right direction.
The hallway lights cast soft shadows as they walked slowly to her room. Taehyungie's hand clutched at his shirt unconsciously, like she needed something to anchor her.
Inside the room, Jungkook helped her sit on the edge of her bed. Her hands were still shaking.
"I feel disgusting," she said suddenly. Her voice was so small it nearly crushed him.
Jungkook dropped to his knees in front of her. "No," he said, gently but firmly. "You are not."
Taehyungie's eyes were glossy, her lashes heavy with tears. "He looked at me like I was just... something to ruin. Like I didn't matter."
"Taehyungie." His voice was trembling now, too. "You're the strongest, most beautiful person I've ever known. You're smart, resilient, brave—" He swallowed. "You matter. More than you know."
Her lower lip trembled. "But what if... what if we're never safe, Jungkook? What if this never ends?"
He reached out and held her hand — this time, she let him. "We will be okay," he whispered. "I'll do everything I can to protect you and the twins. I promise you."
Taehyungie's shoulders caved slightly as she let out a long, shuddering breath. "I'm scared," she admitted.
"I know," he said. "But you're not alone."
He helped her lie back against the pillows, carefully pulling a blanket over her. She looked up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable — the kind of gaze that made his heart twist painfully.
"Try to rest," he said softly. "When you wake up... everything will be fine."
She nodded slowly. And just as he turned to leave, he leaned down slightly — his lips just inches from her temple — but stopped himself.
Not yet.
The door to Taehyungie's room clicked shut behind him, but Jungkook's heart was still thundering in his chest — not from fear... but from fury.
The image of her trembling in his arms, whispering that she felt disgusting, replayed in his mind over and over. Her tear-filled eyes, the shake in her voice, the fear she tried so hard to bury. He clenched his fists.
No.
He turned sharply and stormed through the halls of the villa, past guards who barely caught a glimpse of his blazing eyes before he descended the stairs to the underground dungeon. The heavy door slammed open as he entered.
The man, still bloodied, was chained to the chair, his breathing labored but his smugness undiminished—until he saw Jungkook.
There was no warning.
Jungkook's fist cracked against the man's face with the full weight of his rage.
"You think you can speak about her like that?" he roared, slamming his knuckles into the man's cheek again. "You dared to look at her like that? To even think—"
Another punch. Then another. The man's nose crunched, blood splattering across the concrete floor. The smirk that once painted his lips now twisted into groans and gasps. His head hung low, face painted in crimson.
"Jungkook—!" Eunwoo rushed forward. "You have to stop. He's going to die—"
"I don't care!" Jungkook shouted, pushing Eunwoo off. His voice echoed like a thunderclap. "He looked at her like she was trash. He traumatized her. "
With one final blow, Jungkook grabbed the man by the collar and hissed, "Say her name again. I dare you."
The man coughed up blood, no longer able to hold Jungkook's gaze.
Jungkook shoved him back into the chair, disgust rolling off him in waves.
"Don't give him food," Jungkook growled, eyes dark and deadly. "Don't give him water. Let him rot."
Eunwoo hesitated but nodded solemnly. "Understood."
As Jungkook turned to leave, blood still drying on his fists, his chest heaved with the weight of emotions. His rage hadn't dimmed, but beneath it... was the deep, protective ache of a man who had already lost too much — and was now willing to destroy the world to protect what was left.
He wiped his bloody hand on his black shirt and headed back upstairs.
To check on her.
The night had fallen quietly over the villa. Crickets chirped faintly beyond the open windows, and the hum of the central air was the only sound filling the otherwise still atmosphere.
Taehyungie stirred slightly in bed, her lashes fluttering before she slowly opened her eyes. The pillow beneath her cheek was damp—she hadn't realized she'd cried herself to sleep.
Her body still felt heavy, like the emotions from earlier had sapped every last bit of strength she had. But she was warm. The blanket had been pulled up to her chin, her shoes taken off neatly beside the bed.
The door creaked open softly, and she turned her head.
Jungkook stood there, fresh from a shower, dressed in dark sweats and a black shirt, his damp hair pushed back, revealing a bruised, bloodied knuckle he hadn't bothered to bandage. His eyes scanned the room—then landed on her, awake and watching.
Their gazes held.
He stepped in cautiously, like he didn't want to shatter the fragile calm.
"You're awake..." he said gently, voice hoarse.
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
He moved to the edge of the bed, not sitting, just crouching down beside her like he used to when they were kids and she had nightmares. His eyes searched her face. "Are you feeling okay? You were... shaking earlier."
"I remember," she whispered. "But I don't... feel afraid now."
Jungkook nodded slowly. "Good. That's good."
She looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. "Did you... go back?"
He didn't lie. "Yes."
Taehyungie's lips trembled faintly. "And?"
Jungkook looked away. "He won't bother you again. Or say your name. Or breathe in your direction if he survives it."
She swallowed, heart tightening at how calm and serious his voice was.
For a long moment, there was silence. Then she asked, voice small and raw, "Was it always going to be like this? Me... breaking apart every time something happens?"
Jungkook finally sat on the edge of the bed, turning slightly toward her. "No," he said. "You're not breaking apart. You're surviving. You're strong, Taehyungie. You always were. Even when I wasn't there for you."
Her eyes welled with tears again, but not the same ones from earlier. These were softer. Exhausted. Quiet.
She reached up and took his wrist gently—the same one she'd clutched years ago in his room when sleep had pulled her under. Jungkook stilled.
"I hate that it still hurts," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered back, voice cracking. "I know."
Neither of them moved for a while.
The house was still. The children were playing in their playroom. Somewhere outside, a breeze stirred the curtains.
Taehyungie finally let his hand go.
"You should freshen up," he said, voice low and tender. "I made dinner."
As he rose to leave, she didn't stop him—but her eyes followed him to the door. And for the first time in a long time, her heart didn't feel quite as cold.
--
The warm glow from the kitchen lights cast soft shadows across the marble floors as Taehyungie descended the stairs, freshly changed into a soft sweater and loose slacks. Her face was bare, her hair slightly damp from the shower, and her heart beat with a faint, dull ache—not as sharp as before, but still there.
Before she could reach the last step, two small bodies darted toward her with squeals.
"Mama!"
"Mamaaaaaa!"
Taeri jumped straight into her arms while Taehyun hugged her leg, both of them clinging like they hadn't seen her in days rather than a few hours.
Taehyungie chuckled, scooping up her daughter and reaching down to ruffle Taehyun's hair. "You two didn't nap long."
"We were waiting for you!" Taeri chirped proudly, her arms around her mother's neck. "And Daddy said we could have pancakes again!"
"Only a little," Taehyun added like a serious negotiator.
Taehyungie laughed under her breath, pressing a kiss to both their heads. "It's going to be a long night, huh?"
The kids only giggled in return.
She finally walked them over to the dining table where plates had already been set. Jungkook stood in the kitchen, just finishing the last of the serving. When she sat down, he quietly placed a plate in front of her—grilled chicken, rice, some vegetables.
"You didn't have much earlier," he said softly, not quite looking at her.
Taehyungie blinked at the warm food, then up at him. "Thank you," she murmured.
He gave a small nod and sat across from her.
The clatter of cutlery and bowls being passed around was overshadowed by the twins' endless chatter. They spoke about the Rapunzel movie again—how Taehyun wanted to build a tower and Taeri said she was going to grow her hair long. They argued briefly about who was more like the princess and then laughed, stuffing their cheeks with rice.
Jungkook listened, smiling quietly.
Taehyungie watched the children fondly, her fingers absently rubbing the edge of her chopsticks. The silence between her and Jungkook wasn't cold tonight. It was just... quiet.
She glanced up once and found Jungkook already watching her. Their eyes met briefly. She didn't look away immediately.
And neither did he.
It took nearly two hours of stories, water requests, and soft lullabies before the twins finally drifted off. Taehyungie stood by their bed a moment longer, brushing strands of hair from Taeri's forehead while Jungkook pulled a blanket higher over Taehyun's tiny shoulder. Neither of them spoke, just watching the rise and fall of their children's chests, as if the stillness brought a strange kind of peace.
When they stepped out of the room, Taehyungie instinctively turned toward the stairs—toward her own space—but paused when Jungkook didn't move.
He looked like he wanted to say something.
She hesitated. "...What is it?"
Jungkook looked at her. His voice was quiet, like it didn't want to wake anything—neither the children nor whatever delicate thing had settled between them. "Do you want to sit for a while? Just... outside?"
Taehyungie could've said no. She should've.
But instead, she gave a faint nod.
They walked out to the balcony—where the cool night air met warm skin and distant crickets hummed beneath the stars. The world was still, and so were they.
They sat beside each other on the long cushioned bench. Not touching. Not speaking. Just breathing.
Taehyungie hugged her knees lightly, resting her cheek against them.
"You always used to do that," Jungkook murmured.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "...What?"
"Hug your knees like that when you were nervous. Or sad. Or tired."
A quiet pause stretched between them, thick and heavy with the weight of memories.
"I used to think it was cute," he added.
She exhaled softly through her nose, gaze drifting upward to the sky. "You used to think a lot of things were cute."
Jungkook looked at her. "I still do."
Taehyungie didn't respond.
But she didn't walk away either.
Another beat.
She looked at him —really looked at him—and for a second, her eyes weren't as cold. Just... tired. Wounded. But alive.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Jungkook wanted to reach for her hand, wanted to lean in, wanted to press his lips to her temple like he used to.
But he didn't.
Instead, he just nodded. "Anytime."
And in the silence that followed, they sat beneath the stars with the ghosts of their past between them... and the quiet, slow heartbeat of something fragile beginning to heal.
Five days had passed.
The air in the underground dungeon was heavy with dampness and rot, the sharp sting of blood still clinging to the walls like the echo of violence. The guards stood at attention as Jungkook descended the narrow steps alone. Eunwoo had been called to the city briefly, but Jungkook didn't wait. He had unfinished business.
His shoes echoed softly against the concrete floor, the only sound aside from the ragged breathing that came from the far corner of the cell.
The man was slumped against the wall, his face nearly unrecognizable—bruised, bloodied, sunken with dehydration and sleeplessness. The only thing still intact was the cruel twist of his mouth... although even that was beginning to falter.
Jungkook crouched in front of him slowly, his face unreadable.
"Hello again," he said, voice smooth, almost pleasant. "You look like shit."
The man gave a low grunt in reply, more breath than sound, his lips cracked and dry.
Jungkook tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Five days. No food. No water. And still no names. I should be impressed." His smile thinned. "But I'm not."
He stood up to leave, already turning on his heel—
"Wait."
The man's voice was gravelly, broken, barely a whisper.
Jungkook paused mid-step.
He didn't turn around yet. "Changed your mind?"
A wheezing breath followed. Then, slowly, painfully, the man lifted his head. "There... there was one more."
Jungkook turned fully now, eyes narrowing as he walked back.
"Talk."
The man swallowed like it hurt. "Another in the squad. The quiet one. From Busan. Good with tech... he caught the signs. When Eunwoo's team got close, he ran. Took Seoyoon with him."
Jungkook's fists clenched at her name.
The man leaned his head back against the wall, voice fading. "You know she died. He died to."
Silence dropped like a weight in the room.
Jungkook stared at him. The man wasn't smiling anymore. His body was limp, his breath shallow. He looked too far gone to lie.
Still, Jungkook's tone was sharp. "You better not be feeding me bullshit."
The man gave a pained chuckle that turned into a cough. "I don't care... enough to lie anymore..."
Jungkook studied him a moment longer, his chest tight, thoughts racing.
Then without a word, he turned and left.
Back above the dungeon, the air hit cooler and lighter. But Jungkook felt no relief.
Seoyoon was actually dead.
That chapter was closed.
And yet... the weight hadn't lifted.
He clenched his jaw, pulling out his phone and dialing Eunwoo.
When Eunwoo picked up, Jungkook spoke firmly. "It's over. The last one's dead. We need to sweep the whole trail one more time... just to be sure. Burn it to the ground."
And with that, he ended the call.
He didn't realize how fast his heart was beating until he opened the door back into the villa... and heard soft laughter echo from upstairs.
Taehyungie and the kids.
The storm was over—but what would they become now that the shadows were gone?
The scent of warm cookies and faint laughter greeted Jungkook as he stepped into the villa. It almost felt surreal — how peaceful everything sounded, how safe it felt... after days of blood and fire in the shadows.
He walked slowly toward the living room. The twins were curled up on a blanket fort, giggling as Taehyungie playfully tugged at their socks, pretending to steal their "magic powers." Her smile was soft. The glow on her face was radiant even in the dimmed room.
Jungkook stood there, unnoticed for a moment, watching.
This is what I nearly destroyed, he thought. This is what I'm going to protect now.
"Jungkook," her voice pulled him from his thoughts. She'd seen him.
He blinked and stepped forward, the kids immediately running to him, arms raised.
"Daddy!" Taehyun chirped.
"You're back," Taeri beamed.
Jungkook knelt to scoop them into his arms. "Always," he said gently.
Taehyungie stood too, brushing her hands on her pants. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
He met her gaze. "Can we talk?"
She nodded. "Let me make them comfortable first."
—
Later, the kitchen was quiet. A kettle boiled faintly, and Taehyungie poured tea into two mugs. She handed him one as he leaned against the counter, watching her.
"He's dead," he said after a long silence. "The tech guy from the squad. He tried to escape but he couldn't make it."
Taehyungie stilled, cup halfway to her lips.
He continued, voice low. "It's over."
Taehyungie's fingers trembled slightly, but she said nothing at first. Only nodded.
He watched her carefully. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"I know," she whispered.
The air sat heavily between them — truth, history, pain. But not hatred.
He stepped closer. "I'll understand if you don't forgive me yet. But I need you to know... there's no one left to hurt us now."
Taehyungie placed the cup down, not looking at him. "Then when do we leave the villa?"
Jungkook stilled.
That one question hit harder than anything.
Leave? With him — or without him?
He stared at her profile, her lashes lowered, her arms crossed defensively. Was she asking to escape this chapter completely? Or testing if he'd let her go?
"I..." he swallowed. "Whenever you feel ready. I'll have the team arrange everything. You don't have to stay here a minute longer than you want."
Taehyungie finally turned to him, and something unreadable flickered in her eyes. "And you?"
"I'll stay until you don't need me anymore," he said quietly. "Or until you want me to stay."
Her gaze dropped again.
She looked so tired. So guarded.
So heartbreakingly beautiful.
"I'll think about it," she murmured.
He nodded, knowing it was more than he deserved.
--
That night, Taehyungie tucked the twins in again and found herself lingering outside Jungkook's room. She heard no sound, only silence. She almost knocked... but stopped herself.
Inside, Jungkook sat on the floor beside his bed, back against the wall, the image of Taehyung holding their children burning into his memory.
They had survived.
But now came the hardest part:
Healing.
The moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains of her room as she shut the door quietly behind her. She padded barefoot toward the armchair near her bed, pulling her hair into a loose bun before dialing in for a late-night video call.
Seconds later, two familiar faces lit up her screen — Jinnie with a sleepy face mask still on, and Jiminie, curled under a fuzzy blanket on the couch, eyes widening the second they saw her.
"Tae-Tae!" they both exclaimed.
Taehyungie smiled softly, "Hey, you two."
Jinnie leaned in closer. "God, it feels like it's been years. Are you okay? Are the babies okay?"
"They're fine," Taehyungie nodded. "We're fine now. It's... over."
There was silence for a beat. Then Jiminie spoke gently, "So, you'll be coming back to the Kim Residence?"
Taehyungie smiled faintly. "Yeah... soon. The kids miss you both."
"Aww," Jinnie beamed. "Tell them their aunties love them."
But then Jiminie's brows furrowed. "And Jungkook?"
Taehyungie's smile dropped ever so slightly, her lips tightening. "What about him?"
Jinnie and Jiminie glanced at each other.
"Weren't you two mad at him too?" Taehyungie asked, narrowing her eyes, almost defensively.
Jinnie sighed, voice soft. "We were. We are. But we also see the way you... try not to look at him when he's looking at you."
"I let him earn a chance," Taehyungie said firmly. "I let him prove himself. But I don't trust him yet."
Jiminie looked hesitant, but still asked, "Will you take the kids back to Paris?"
"Yes," Taehyunge replied quickly, a little too quickly. "I've already decided. There's nothing here for us. Not anymore."
"What about Jungkook?" Jinnie asked quietly.
Taehyungie didn't blink. "He can come for visits. If he wants."
Silence. Then
Jiminie bit his lip. "Tae... what if the twins start demanding him every day? Every night?"
"I'll manage," she said, her tone sharp, clipped — but her eyes flickered. "I've always managed."
Her friends watched her carefully. Her lips said one thing. Her posture said another. And her eyes — her eyes were a storm.
Even now, the mere mention of Jungkook seemed to pull a rope tight inside her. Her words were steel, but the edges were fraying.
She was hurting.
Jinnie's voice cracked a little. "You don't want to leave him, do you?"
Taehyungie looked away.
Silence.
Then she whispered, "I have to."
The words weren't loud, but they were soaked in pain.
"I can't be that girl again," she continued. "The one who waited, who begged, who got left behind. He crushed me, Jinnie. He left me pregnant and alone and..." her voice broke. She wiped her eyes quickly. "I can't let him do it again. I'm protecting myself."
Jiminie's voice was a whisper, "Even if he's changed?"
Taehyungie's silence was answer enough.
She wasn't ready to forgive. And deep down, even if her heart cried out for him, her pride — her trauma — her pain — had built walls too high for now.
"I love you both," she whispered, trying to smile again. "But I'm tired. Let's talk tomorrow, yeah?"
"Okay," Jinnie said gently. "We love you, Tae."
"Always," Jiminie added with a pout.
As the screen went black, Taehyungie leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Her chest ached. Her mind swirled.
And downstairs, behind his own closed door, Jungkook sat on the floor — still wide awake, somehow feeling the shift in the air.
Two hearts in the same house.
Still beating for each other.
Still so far apart.
The morning sun filtered softly through the villa's windows, bathing the living room in warm golden hues. The air smelled like fresh toast and strawberries, the faint hum of cartoons playing in the background.
Taehyungie stood in the hallway, towel in hand, watching quietly.
Jungkook was on the floor, seated cross-legged with crayons and papers scattered everywhere. Taeri was sitting on his thigh, her little hand tugging at his hair as she giggled, while Taehyun was lying on his belly, coloring half on the page and half on the floor.
Jungkook's laugh was soft, deep. "That's supposed to be a dog, Taehyun."
"It's a unicorn-dog, daddy," Taehyun corrected, puffing his cheeks.
Taeri added with a lisp, "And it has powers!"
"Oh? What kind of powers?" Jungkook grinned, eyes sparkling.
"Cuddles and snacks," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Taehyungie's heart squeezed painfully. She didn't realize how long she had been standing there until Jungkook noticed her, his eyes meeting hers.
He forced a smile.
It was soft. Hopeful.
But her lips didn't return it.
She walked slowly toward him, her steps light, but heavy inside.
When she reached the coffee table, Jungkook stood, brushing his palms on his pants. "They've got crazy imaginations."
Taehyungie nodded, not meeting his eyes.
"I need to tell you something," she said quietly.
Jungkook's shoulders stiffened.
She swallowed. "We'll be leaving for Paris soon. As soon as we leave the villa."
His smile faltered. He blinked, caught off guard. "You're... you're really leaving?"
Taehyungie finally looked up.
"I thought I still had time," he murmured. "I haven't proven myself yet."
"You still can," she said gently. "In Paris. When you come for visits."
Jungkook's throat tightened. His fists clenched at his sides. He looked like he'd just been told to breathe underwater.
He nodded slowly, trying to mask the pain with a smile. "So this is it, huh?"
Taehyungie didn't answer. The kids suddenly tugged at his shirt, their faces lighting up like twin suns.
"! Daddy come play jungle explorer with us!"
He nodded, crouching. "Of course. Lead the way, adventurers."
But before they could pull him away, Taehyungie gently knelt in front of them.
"Babies," she said softly. "We'll be leaving soon. Back to Paris."
The twins paused.
Their smiles dimmed. "Is daddy coming too?"
Taehyungie smiled carefully. "He'll come for visits."
"But why can't he come with us?" Taehyun asked, his voice small.
"He has a lot of work to do here," she whispered, her throat tight.
Jungkook crouched beside them. "But I'll come every day I can. I promise."
The twins brightened again, hugging him tightly. "Yay!"
They grabbed his hands and pulled him away excitedly, already planning their next game.
Taehyungie rose to her feet slowly.
She stood alone for a moment, hands at her sides, watching them disappear down the hallway with light footsteps and loud laughter.
She whispered to herself, "It's for the best."
But her heart ached, splintering quietly in her chest—because even if she tried to convince herself, it didn't feel like the best.
It felt like letting go of something she wasn't ready to lose.
An hour later, an hour of hiding his grief and pain from his children, Jungkook walked to his room after the kids left to disturb their mother. The door clicked shut behind him, but it did nothing to muffle the noise in Jungkook's chest.
The laughter of the twins echoed faintly through the walls. But even their joy couldn't patch the hole in his heart.
He stood in the middle of his room, arms hanging useless at his sides. His breaths came shallow, each one barely enough to keep him standing. The walls seemed to press inward.
He turned slowly, eyes landing on the photo frame on his nightstand — the one he had sneakily printed weeks ago.
It was a snapshot of the four of them in the villa's backyard. Taehyungie smiling — soft, shy — not for him but for the twins who clung to his side. Jungkook had been holding Taeri in one arm, Taehyun on his back. They had laughed. Just once. But it had been real.
He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. His fingers curled into fists.
"She's leaving. They are leaving"
The words played again, louder this time, echoing off every corner of his mind.
A sharp breath tore from his throat.
And then another.
He bent forward, burying his face in his palms.
"I'm losing them," he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking like glass.
Hot tears spilled from his eyes, seeping through the cracks he'd held shut for too long.
He wasn't just crying for Taehyungie. He was crying for the years he missed. For the twins' first steps. First words. For all the lullabies he hadn't sung. For the moments that never came.
He slammed his fist into the side of the mattress. Once. Twice.
But no matter how hard he hit it, the ache didn't fade.
He had fought men.
He had run companies.
He had survived worse.
But nothing — nothing — prepared him for the moment Taehyungie looked him in the eye and planned a life without him in it.
He stared at the ceiling, letting the tears roll freely now, throat sore from holding back the scream he wanted to release.
He knew he deserved it but it hurt so much.
Taehyungie stood by the balcony of her room, the cool afternoon breeze curling around her silk dress. Her fingers gripped the railing loosely, and she stared up at the stars — sharp, distant things.
Behind her, the house had quieted. The twins were having their nap. And Jungkook...
She had heard the soft thud of his door closing. The silence that followed was louder than any sob.
Her lips curled slightly, but not in amusement. It was a bitter smile — curved with the kind of satisfaction that didn't reach the soul.
He was hurting.
Good.
She had spent years in pain — in silence.
Pregnant, alone in Paris.
Bringing life into a world that had spat her out.
Sewing up her own wounds while the father of her children lived untouched.
Unaware.
Unaffected.
She had screamed into pillows, cried into her child's clothes, smiled for their sake, and buried herself in Claire's world to forget.
She had tasted heartbreak raw.
And now... now he finally understood what it meant to feel powerless. To have everything slipping through your fingers.
Her body, exhausted from years of carrying that grief, felt light.
Satisfied.
Vindicated.
But her heart—
God, her heart was cracking in silence.
She gripped the railing tighter, eyes misting.
She didn't want him to cry.
She didn't want to see his shoulders slump or his voice falter.
She didn't want him to look at their children with that broken gaze.
She didn't want her chest to tighten every time he whispered their names like a prayer he never deserved to say.
But she also couldn't forget.
Not the night she bled.
Not the night she screamed alone in a cold hospital room, clutching their twins.
Not the years she stared out of apartment windows wondering if he even remembered her.
And so she closed her eyes and let the wind sting her lashes.
"You'll live," she whispered, more to herself than him.
"Just like I did."
Her body felt victorious.
But her heart — her foolish, tender heart — bled for the man on the other side of the wall.
Still, she turned away and walked into the shadows.
She was not allowed to love him again.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
--
🥹🥹😭😭 Oh my shaylaas
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 27: Love Lies Bleeding
Chapter Text
Jungkook stood in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the pan though his hands had stopped moving. The scrambled eggs were done, but he hadn't plated them yet.
He barely slept.
When he did, he dreamt of Taehyungie walking away. Not angry. Not crying. Just... done.
And that hurt the most.
He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned.
Taehyungie entered, dressed in a pale sweater and shorts. She looked fresh-faced but guarded, her posture alert like she was ready for battle even in peace.
Their eyes met.
Jungkook gave her a small, hesitant smile.
"I made breakfast," he said softly.
She nodded. "Thanks."
They sat across from each other, with the twins between them. The kids giggled and made silly shapes with their toast and sausage, but their laughter sounded distant to Jungkook.
Taehyungie wasn't looking at him.
She never did though.
He watched her quietly slide a napkin across the table when Taeri spilled some juice. She didn't scold. She smiled. She kissed the top of Taehyun's head when he fed her a strawberry.
She was the same Taehyung.
And yet... not his.
After the meal, as the kids ran out to play, Jungkook gathered the courage.
"Tae," he murmured, his voice cracked like old porcelain.
She looked up.
"I haven't proven my worth yet," he whispered, heart pounding. "You said... . You're going. But I just— I thought I'd have more time."
Taehyungie tilted her head. Her eyes softened for a fraction of a second before she said gently, "You can still prove yourself. In Paris. You're welcome to visit."
His chest caved in a little. His tongue felt heavy. Just smiled when the kids came back and clung to him.
Jungkook knelt to their level, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I'll visit you every day," he said, ruffling their hair.
The twins cheered, oblivious to the heartbreak in his voice.
And behind them, Taehyungie stood tall.
But inside, she was shaking.
Taehyungie locked herself in her room after lunch. The kids were watching a cartoon with Jungkook.
She sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand.
Claire's name flashed on the screen. She pressed call.
Seconds later, the older woman answered. "Ma belle?"
Taehyungie smiled, voice instantly softening. "Hi, Claire."
"You sound tired."
"I am," Taehyungie admitted. "It's been... a lot."
Claire hummed. "Jiminie told me what happened. You're safe, yes?"
"Yes. We are."
There was silence before Claire asked quietly, "And him?"
Taehyungie exhaled shakily. "He's hurting."
Claire didn't say a word. She waited.
Taehyungie went on, her voice low and vulnerable. "I told him we're going back to Paris. I told him he could visit the kids."
"Is that what you want?"
Taehyungie froze.
"I don't know," she whispered.
Claire sighed on the other end. "Chérie... you've built so many walls, I don't think even you know how to climb them anymore."
Tears stung Taehyungie's eyes.
"I'm angry," she confessed. "I've been angry for so long I don't know who I am without it. I wanted him to suffer. And he is. And part of me—God—part of me feels... relieved."
"That's your body speaking," Claire said gently. "The part of you that was wounded."
Taehyungie nodded. "My heart... it doesn't feel the same."
"Because it still loves him?"
A beat passed. Taehyungie didn't answer.
Claire was quiet for a moment. "So... what will you do?"
"I'll go to Paris," she said, more to herself than Claire. "I'll go because I need to heal. And I'll take the kids. And if Jungkook truly wants to stay in our lives..."
Claire smiled softly. "Then he will."
It had been three days since the decision.
Taehyungie folded the last of the twins' clothes into the lavender suitcase. Her own clothes were neatly tucked into a larger suitcase. She had always packed with precision, as if keeping order outside would tame the chaos within.
Downstairs, Jungkook waited in a simple black tee and jeans, hair tousled and eyes shadowed by sleepless nights. He took the suitcases without a word, packing them carefully into the trunk of the car.
The children came skipping out, dressed for the mild weather — Taehyun in his dino hoodie and denim overalls, Taeri in a lemon-colored cardigan and white stockings. Their innocence made the air heavier.
The car ride was quiet. The twins were humming a tune in the backseat, half-asleep against their pillows. Taehyungie stared out of the window, her profile unreadable. Her fingers fidgeted with her sleeve as familiar streets blurred past. She didn't speak. Neither did he.
When they arrived at the Kim residence, the grand gate opened like a slow sigh, revealing the warm, welcoming home beyond it.
Jinnie was already outside, dressed in a baby blue sweater and white pants, hands outstretched with a radiant smile. Jiminie and Namjoon flanked her, both in casual homewear — Jiminie's oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder, Namjoon in his signature grey pullover.
The moment the twins saw them, they squealed and bolted out of the car.
"AUNT JIN! UNCLE JOONIE! AUNT JIMINIE"
Jinnie bent down, scooping them into a hug. "My loves! I missed you so much! I made banana pancakes—extra fluffy!"
They shrieked in delight and ran past her into the house, laughter trailing behind.
Taehyungie stepped out next.
Jinnie met her halfway, wrapping her into a deep hug. "You're home," she whispered into her shoulder.
Jiminie followed, hugging her tight, eyes misty. "You're safe."
Namjoon came last, hugging her without hesitation and pressing a kiss to her temple. "We're glad you're back. And okay."
Jungkook stood behind them, arms still at his sides. Watching. His throat bobbed.
"Their safe now," he said roughly. "You don't have to worry."
He turned back to the car, not waiting for a response.
But Namjoon followed, grabbing his arm before he could reach the door.
"Jungkook," Namjoon said, voice low. "Thank you. Really."
Jungkook smiled — a hollow, lopsided one. "You don't need to thank me. It was my responsibility."
Namjoon's expression flickered, and Jungkook's heart pulled tight.
Once, that man was his best friend. Once, they had dreams of raising their kids side-by-side. Now, Namjoon was just Taehyungie's brother. Protective. Distant.
The consequences of one stupid, life-changing dare.
Jinnie stepped forward, hopeful. "You can come in, Jungkook. You came from far—"
But Jungkook noticed how Taehyungie's posture tensed, how her shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.
So he shook his head gently. "I shouldn't. Thanks, Jinnie."
Just then, the twins came bounding back out, grins wide.
"Daddy! Come play! We can go to the park!"
Jungkook crouched to their level, brushing Taeri's hair from her face.
"I have something to do today," he said softly. "But I'll be back soon, okay?"
They pouted, but nodded obediently.
He hugged them tight, breathing in their scent like a dying man gasping for air.
Then he stood, looked at Taehyungie one last time, and nodded.
She didn't return it.
He climbed into the car, shut the door, and drove away.
And the street felt just a little more hollow in his absence.
Kim Residence – Early Afternoon
The light filtered softly through the windows of the Kim residence, casting golden beams onto the polished wooden floor. Outside, the birds chirped lazily, unaware of the heaviness that hung in the air within.
In her room, Taehyungie knelt beside an open suitcase, carefully folding the last of the twins' clothes. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tucked a small floral dress into a side compartment. She paused for a moment, eyes lingering on the fabric as if seeing it for the last time. Then she reached for Taehyun's green hoodie — the one he refused to go anywhere without — and her hands stilled completely. They'll be leaving Seoul in 2 days.
Behind her, Jinnie and Jiminie sat on the edge of the bed, silent witnesses to her unraveling.
Jinnie glanced at Jiminie, who was chewing her lower lip in worry. But they both knew better than to say anything. Taehyungie had been strong for weeks, navigating her trauma and motherhood with precision. Yet today... today her hands gave her away.
"Taehyungie," Jiminie said gently, reaching out, but Taehyungie shook her head slightly and offered a tight smile.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "Just tired."
It was a lie. But one they'd accept for now.
The door creaked and small footsteps padded in.
Taeri stood there in a lavender pinafore, her dark hair tied into two tiny pigtails, holding her plush unicorn by the ear. Her eyes were wide and innocent.
"Mama," she said, toddling forward. "When is Daddy coming back?"
Taehyungie's breath hitched, and she froze mid-fold. Her back straightened like a rod.
Jinnie, sensing the pause, quickly smiled and scooped Taeri up into her lap.
"He'll be back soon, baby," Jinnie said softly, brushing a hand through Taeri's hair.
Taeri pouted, her little brows furrowing. "But I want him now..."
"I know, sweetie," Jinnie murmured, kissing her cheek. "He misses you too."
Satisfied, Taeri slid off her lap and ran to join her brother in the living room where Namjoon was building Lego towers with him, their laughter bubbling like soda fizz.
The moment the children were out of earshot, Taehyungie slumped forward slightly, her arms bracing on the suitcase. Her head hung low, her shoulders trembling.
"I hate this," she whispered.
Jiminie stood and moved beside her, resting her chin on Taehyungie's shoulder. "I know."
Jinnie joined them. "But you're doing what's best for them."
Taehyungie nodded slowly. "Then why does it feel like I'm tearing myself in half?"
Neither of them had an answer.
Later that evening, as the kids giggled over banana pancakes in the kitchen with Namjoon, Taehyungie stood in the hallway, watching them with a hollow smile. They looked happy. Safe. Whole.
But deep inside, she felt like a house with no lights left on.
Elsewhere – Jungkook's Penthouse
The elevator doors slid open to a dark, cold space.
Jungkook stepped inside his penthouse — once luxurious, now suffocating. The blinds were drawn shut, the scent of old cologne and silence lingering like ghosts in the air.
He dropped his keys to the marble floor and didn't bother picking them up.
His steps were slow, like a man walking underwater. He reached the kitchen cabinet, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and took a shot. Then another. Then three more.
The warmth didn't soothe him. It burned. But that was the point.
Images played in his head like a cursed slideshow. Taehyungie.
And the kids...
"Daddy! Come play!"
He winced as he remembered.
Another shot.
The alcohol made the memories blur — but not disappear. His heart ached more with each blurry flicker.
His phone buzzed. "Father" flashed across the screen.
He didn't answer.
It buzzed again. Hoseok this time.
He let it go to voicemail.
He dragged his body to the living room and collapsed on the floor, sprawled like a man defeated in battle. He lay there, breathing uneven, eyes stinging.
He reached up, fumbling for the drawer in the nearby cabinet. After a struggle, he opened it and pulled out what was left of his heart.
The photo — worn out, a much younger Taehyungie laughing with her head thrown back, sitting in his lap.
The ultrasound — black and white and full of promise.
The bunny plushie — chewed on, worn, still smelling faintly of baby powder.
And a toy car — scratched and dented, but beloved.
His fingers closed around them one by one like they were lifelines — and he shattered.
A broken sob tore from his throat as his forehead pressed against the cold floor, tears soaking into the wood.
He had no one to blame but himself.
And the love of his life was leaving... again.
Jeon Mansion – Late Evening
The night was still, the gates of the Jeon estate parting with a low mechanical groan as Jungkook's car rolled in. The headlights cut through the darkness, briefly illuminating the grand front steps before fading to black as the engine shut off.
Mrs. Jeon sat in her favorite lounge, her tea still steaming in her hands as she stared blankly at the news channel playing low on the television. The moment she heard the door creak open, her head snapped toward the entrance.
"Jungkook?"
She stood instantly when she saw him — swaying, disheveled, and smelling heavily of alcohol. His suit jacket was half off, shirt untucked, hair an unruly mess of chaos.
"Jungkook, my baby—what happened?" she gasped, hurrying to him.
But he didn't answer. He stumbled two more steps before his knees buckled, collapsing into his mother's arms.
"I—I lost her, Mom," he choked, his voice cracking with a rawness that terrified her. "I lost Taehyungie... I lost my family..."
Tears poured from his eyes, wetting her silk blouse as he clung to her like a child.
"Shh, no, no, no... it's alright, I'm here, baby, I'm here," she whispered, running her hands through his hair. But the panic rising in her throat was impossible to ignore.
Jungkook shook violently, chanting the same broken syllables like a mantra.
"I ruined it... I ruined everything... I ruined her..."
He coughed, dry and sharp, and then suddenly went limp.
"Jungkook?" she called out sharply. "Jungkook!"
His eyes fluttered but didn't open. Mrs. Jeon's heart jumped to her throat.
"Someone call a doctor! Water! Hurry!" she screamed to the staff, cradling his head on her lap.
The maids rushed, but time slowed.
Mrs. Jeon stared down at her son's tear-stained face — and in that moment, her soul cracked. Because even though Jungkook was a man, powerful and feared by many, she saw the little boy who once cried over scraped knees and nightmares.
And now he was breaking over a nightmare of his own making.
Kim Residence – Midnight
Taehyungie lay awake in the dark, eyes open, staring at the ceiling as the fan spun lazily above. The sheets tangled around her legs, damp with sweat, her heart thudding unevenly.
She sat up abruptly, gasping for air. Her chest felt tight — too tight.
She hadn't realized she'd been crying.
Memories clawed at her mind, one by one, vivid and relentless:
Jungkook holding her as she threw up when she fell ill at the villa.
The way he knelt beside her bed, gently stroking her hand.
The warmth in his voice as he read bedtime stories to their children, voices and all.
How he'd protected them and nurtured the kids. How he looked at her with soft eyes, guilt and regret. How he defended her. How he...he--"
She stumbled out of bed and walked unsteadily to the bathroom, flicking the light on. Her reflection startled her — eyes red, cheeks blotched, her lower lip trembling.
She splashed cold water on her face, again and again, but nothing could stop the trembling in her hands.
"Am I doing the right thing?" she whispered to the woman in the mirror.
There was no answer.
Dragging herself back to the bedroom, Taehyungie knelt beside her suitcase and unzipped a small side pocket. Her fingers dug through the fabric until she found it — a photo, long kept, too sacred to throw away.
She unfolded it gently.
It was a photograph taken years ago — her and Jungkook, caught mid-kiss under the rain. It was blurry but beautiful. A moment in time, real and raw. She remembered that day at the amusement park. How he twirled her under the drizzle, how their laughter echoed louder than the thunder.
How he twirled her under the drizzle, how their laughter echoed louder than the thunder
The photographer had been a stranger, enchanted by their joy. He gave it to her for free.
Jungkook never even knew it existed.
Now her tears fell silently, dotting the photo.
It hurt. It hurt how even after everything, her heart still beat for him. It betrayed her with its longing.
She pressed the photo to her chest, biting her lip until it nearly bled.
"I hate you..." she whispered.
But she didn't. And that was what broke her the most.
She sat there, the rain from that memory seeming to return — not outside her window, but in the downpour of her soul.
And still, she told herself the same thing over and over:
She had to go.
She had to leave.
Because staying...
Staying would mean risking her heart again.
And she wasn't sure it could survive another break.
Jeon Mansion – Morning
The light filtered gently through the cream curtains of one of the master bedroom in the Jeon estate. Jungkook stirred under the sheets, his head pounding like a war drum. The moment he opened his eyes, the hangover hit him like a freight train. His stomach churned, and his mouth felt like dry cotton. Groaning, he turned over—
"Slowly, sweetheart."
His mother's voice was soft, and her hand was already there, steadying him. He blinked groggily, vision unfocused, but her silhouette gradually took shape.
"Mom..."
"I'm here." She smiled faintly, cradling a small glass of water and two white pills.
Jungkook didn't ask what they were. He took them wordlessly and downed the water. His throat burned. Every part of him ached—not just from the alcohol, but from the weight in his chest that no medicine could heal.
He leaned back against the pillows, his eyes hollow. He didn't cry. He didn't speak. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling as though his soul had been scraped clean.
His mother set the glass down and brushed his hair from his forehead. Her smile was sad when Jungkook finally whispered:
"I lost."
"No," she said softly, her thumb tracing his temple. "You didn't."
"I did. She's leaving. Taking my kids with her." His voice cracked. "She won't even let me fight for her."
His mother shook her head.
"You did what you were supposed to do. You protected them. You got them out of danger. You spent every second learning how to be their father. You cared for Taehyungie when she was sick. You made her feel safe again, didn't you?"
"She still left," he croaked.
"She's hurt, not heartless." She sighed, motioning to the door.
A maid entered quietly, carrying a bowl of soup. Jungkook barely looked at it.
"Eat, Jungkook," his mother said, spooning some gently toward his mouth. "And listen to me."
He didn't protest. He was too exhausted to.
"You don't stop because it hurts," she continued, feeding him. "You keep showing up. For her. For those kids. You don't stop trying to be the man they can rely on. Whether they live with you or not."
His eyes watered, but he blinked rapidly.
"Don't give up. You already made your way back into their lives. Don't walk away now."
Kim Residence – Late Morning
Breakfast was usually a joy in the Kim household—laughter, spills, and the smell of toast in the air. But today?
Silence.
Taehyungie sighed as she set down two plates on the table.
"Taeri. Taehyun. Come eat."
The twins sat with matching pouts. Arms crossed. Little eyes stormy.
"No!" Taeri scowled. "We want Daddy's toast!"
"Yeah!" Taehyun huffed. "And the funny eggs he makes!"
Taehyungie closed her eyes for a second.
"Your daddy's busy right now."
"No, he's not! He's not here because you told him not to come!" Taeri snapped, surprising even her brother.
"Ri—" Taehyungie started, but her voice caught. "I didn't—"
"You don't want him here!" Taehyun added. "Why can't we all go to Paris with Daddy?"
Taehyungie's fingers curled tightly by her side. Her chest stung, throat thick. She hadn't slept. She hadn't breathed. And now...
"Enough!" she nearly shouted—but the word didn't come.
Namjoon stepped into the room just in time.
"Okay," he said calmly, lifting his niece into his arms, "let's go draw Aunt Jiminie in a ballerina outfit, hmm?"
The twins blinked.
"You can even make her wear a pink tutu," he added with a sly grin.
Taehyun giggled. "Okay!"
Taeri sniffled but nodded, letting herself be carried away.
Taehyungie stood there, rooted in place, her shoulders quaking. Namjoon turned to Jinnie and Jiminie with a nod before gently taking Taehyungie's hand.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go breathe."
She didn't resist.
They walked in silence to the garden. Only when they were alone, among the trees and wind, did Taehyungie let out a shuddering exhale.
"I'm trying, Namjoon," she whispered. "But I don't know if I'm doing this right."
Namjoon didn't try to fix it. He just pulled her into a hug and held her.
"You're doing what you think is right. That's all anyone can do."
Her tears soaked into his shirt, and he didn't let go.
--
Kim Residence – Night Before Departure
The quiet in the nursery was deceptive.
It wasn't peace.
It was the tension before goodbye.
Taehyungie sat between her twins on the wide cushioned bed, a lullaby barely slipping from her lips. Her voice was steady, sweet even—but her heart pulsed with a rhythm so fragile, she feared it might break mid-song.
The soft glow of the moon bathed the room in silver. Taeri clutched her plushie bunny, Taehyun held his toy car against his chest. They were swaddled in warm blankets, clean from their evening bath, and everything should have felt normal.
But it didn't.
Because they weren't smiling.
Taeri's eyes, usually full of sparkle, stared up at her mother with a blankness Taehyungie hadn't seen before. Not from her. Not like this. As if the little girl sensed the change—the absence—and didn't have the words yet to voice it.
Beside her, Taehyun blinked slowly, not in sleepiness, but in thought. His brows furrowed, his lips parted slightly, like he wanted to ask a question but was too tired to speak.
They didn't hum with the lullaby like they usually did. They didn't ask for another story. They just... watched her.
As if trying to memorize her face.
"Sleep, my loves," Taehyungie whispered, brushing their dark hair back with trembling fingers. "It's just a little change. You'll be okay."
Neither of them responded.
A few minutes later, their breaths slowed, deepened. Sleep eventually found them, but it was not a peaceful surrender. It was exhaustion. It was sadness. It was the ache of two hearts too young to understand heartbreak, yet feeling the bruise of it anyway.
Taehyungie gently pulled the blankets tighter around them and pressed a soft kiss on each of their foreheads.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "You deserve both of us. And I'm... I'm stealing him from you."
She stood and walked to the door, pausing to take one last look.
Their faces were still. But not peaceful.
Taehyungie's Bedroom – Later That Night
The room felt cold.
Not physically. But the air was still. Unwelcoming. Like it knew she didn't want to be there.
Taehyungie sat on the edge of her bed, hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Her eyes were dry. Not because she wasn't sad—but because she had cried everything out days ago. Weeks ago. Years ago.
This... was something else.
"One night more," she whispered to herself.
The words echoed back, hollow.
"One night more... and then Paris."
The city of lights. Of fashion. Of power. Of the empire she helped build from the ground up beside Claire.
Back to being the queen.
Back to being Taehyungie Kim—elegant, powerful, untouchable.
No room for weakness. No room for softness. No room for love.
She walked to her open suitcase on the couch, folding the last of Taehyun's sweaters and tucking in the travel blanket Taeri loved. Her fingers moved methodically, but her thoughts refused to obey.
He should be here.
He should be tucking them in. Making them laugh. Making toast like always.
Why didn't he fight harder? Why didn't I...
She shook her head sharply. No. She wasn't doing this.
Not tonight.
Not when she was one sleep away from freedom.
Except it didn't feel like freedom.
It felt like grief.
Her eyes fell to the photo frame on her nightstand. The one she had packed and unpacked twice today. She hadn't meant to bring it out. It was a secret from the past—hidden beneath her scarves in the suitcase.
But now it was out. Staring back at her.
A memory frozen in time.
Taehyungie and Jungkook. Kissing under the rain. Her hands around his neck, his smile pressed against her mouth. The laughter in her eyes. The glow in his.
A gift. A souvenir of their love. A love so blindingly beautiful that even strangers couldn't help but capture it.
Her fingers grazed the glass, and her vision blurred.
How did we get here?
He had been soft. So soft. In the villa. Carrying her when she fell ill. Rubbing her back while she vomited. Cooking ridiculous breakfast meals with silly eggs just to make the twins giggle. His arms, his voice, the way he looked at their children like they were the sun and moon.
But softness couldn't erase abandonment.
It couldn't undo the years she bled alone. The nights she'd held her stomach in Paris and told her unborn children, You don't need a father. You have me.
So no matter how much she craved his presence now, she wouldn't let herself go back.
Not completely.
She closed the suitcase, zipped it shut with finality, and stood tall.
Tomorrow, she would fly.
Back to power. Back to Claire. Back to a life where she didn't have to beg to be loved.
Where no one would ever dare leave her again.
"One night more," she said aloud, to the empty room.
But this time... her voice cracked.
And she didn't stop the tear that slipped down her cheek.
The morning sky bled grey as if it mourned with them. The Kim residence, usually warm with laughter and bright with chatter, was cloaked in a heavy silence that even the birds refused to break.
Taehyungie stood by the bedroom mirror, hands trembling as she tied Taeri's little boots, then Taehyun's. The twins had barely spoken all morning, their small faces drawn and quiet. The spark in their eyes—the one Jungkook had ignited—was missing. She tried smiling, cooing, even joking, but nothing worked. Not today. They wanted their father. And she couldn't give him to them.
Downstairs, Jiminie's eyes were misty as she listened to Yoongi's voice, deep and calm, from across the world.
"I'll be back soon," he said softly. "And when I do, I'll come to Paris. I promise."
Jiminie let out a shaky breath. "You better. I miss you so much Yoongs. We all do."
"I know," Yoongi replied, his voice heavy. "Take care of yourself, Taehyungie and the twins for me."
The call ended. Jiminie stared at her phone for a second longer, then tucked it into her sweater pocket. She glanced toward the living room, where Jinnie was sealing the last box of homemade snacks—banana pancakes, mini kimbap rolls, and fruit slices, all packed tightly for the twins.
Namjoon walked past her, wheeling two suitcases toward the front door. Even he, the pillar of calm, looked uncharacteristically subdued. His shoulders were tense, jaw clenched. The weight of it wasn't just in the fabric and zippers—it was the weight of choices, of goodbyes that hadn't been said properly.
Upstairs, Taehyungie gently nudged the twins toward the door. "Come on, babies. It's time to go," she said, but her voice cracked. The twins didn't respond. Instead, they scurried and disappeared down the hall, hiding.
Taehyungie sighed, pressing a palm to her forehead. "Not today. Please, not today..."
She marched down the hallway, calling their names in a wavering voice. "Taeri? Taehyun? Please don't make this harder."
Taehyungie had tried. Gods, she had tried. She had smiled, danced around them, and offered games and treats. But the moment she whispered "It's time to go," their little faces crumbled. They hadn't spoken a word since. And now, they were hiding somewhere in the large house, refusing to say goodbye to a father who wasn't even there.
Taehyungie re-entered the room, frustrated and breathless, strands of her soft brown hair falling out of place.
"They're hiding again," she said to Namjoon, her voice thin with exhaustion. "I think they're in your closet."
"I'll check," Namjoon replied gently, setting the suitcase down.
Taehyungie turned around to head back upstairs, calling their names.
The house was cloaked in a silence too sharp to be comforting. The kind that buzzed in your ears and made your skin crawl — as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Jungkook's footsteps faltered as he stepped through the front door of the Kim residence.
He looked like a man undone.
Hair disheveled, skin pale, eyes bloodshot and rimmed red from hours — no, days — of crying. His clothes hung off him like a ghost of the life he had before. The air around him clung with the bitter sting of alcohol and heartbreak, but it wasn't the kind of smell that pushed people away. No, it was the kind that made them pause. That made their chest ache because it smelled like grief.
Namjoon turned from the hallway first, and his entire body froze.
"Jungkook?"
Jiminie looked up next, the color draining from her face.
Jinnie let out a small, startled gasp — a sound of both alarm and recognition.
Jungkook didn't answer. He just stood there, breathing heavily, his chest heaving like he'd sprinted through fire. His eyes scanned the room wildly, almost not seeing them at all.
"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I should have called. I didn't mean to just show up but..."
He licked his lips, cracking from dehydration. "Where is Taehyungie?"
Silence.
No one moved.
His voice broke. "Please... where is she? Don't tell me she left."
Still no answer.
He didn't notice the lunch boxes in Jinnie's hands. Didn't hear the sound of a suitcase wheel creaking behind Namjoon. All he could hear was his own heartbeat.
"Did she...?" His eyes filled again. "Did she leave me?"
His knees buckled.
The silence that followed told him everything.
Panic spread through his veins like a slow, suffocating venom. His eyes flickered around the house, his chest rising and falling in rapid, unstable bursts. "Where—did she leave?" His voice broke. "Did she—?"
No one answered. And just then—just when despair had fully wrapped its claws around him—he saw her.
Taehyungie rounded the corner from the hallway, her arms half-lifted, frustration on her face as she was about to scold the kids for hiding again—
But her breath caught in her throat.
And time stopped.
Everything in him shattered. All of the restraint he had clung to for days — every flimsy rope of pride, dignity, and self-preservation — unraveled like threads in a storm.
His eyes, bloodshot and swollen, locked onto hers. A sound escaped him, hoarse and broken. A sound like someone who had wandered lost in a desert and had finally seen water.
Then he stumbled forward — once, twice — his arms slightly outstretched like he needed to touch her to believe she was real. His fingertips barely grazed her cheek.
"You're here..." he whispered, voice cracking. "You didn't leave me..."
And then — he collapsed.
Right there, at her feet, with a sound so visceral it clawed through the air and split it wide open. He fell to his knees, and then to his hands, and then curled forward as if his body couldn't contain the agony anymore.
His sobs weren't quiet.
They were the kind that tore through the lungs, the kind that didn't care who was watching. He buried his face in his palms, gasping as his chest heaved. His voice came in fragments, gasps strung together with pain.
"I—I thought I lost you... I thought—"
He couldn't finish. His body heaved with each cry, his face buried in his hands. He wasn't the CEO, the powerful man, the feared Jungkook. He was just a boy—her boy—on his knees, begging for something already broken.
Namjoon looked away, unable to watch. Jinnie's tears finally fell, quietly. Jiminie swallowed a sob, her hand clutching her chest.
Taehyungie didn't move. She just stood there, staring down at the man who shattered her life, sobbing like a child before her. Her heart cracked, but she didn't let it show. Not yet.
Then, Jungkook looked up, his eyes begging. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Taehyungie. For the dare, for leaving you when you needed me, for not fighting for you, for every moment I made you feel unloved. I was a coward. I was stupid."
Taehyungie stood frozen, her hands trembling at her sides. Her eyes burned as she stared at him — the man who once turned away from her when she needed him most now breaking into pieces before her.
She didn't move when he bowed forward again, his forehead touching the ground. His hair fell over his eyes, and soft strands brushed against the top of her foot.
The sound of rain began to patter against the roof — soft at first, then louder. As if the world outside was mourning, too.
Jungkook's voice trembled again.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..."
Taehyungie's lips parted, but no words came, her fists clenched at her sides. Her breathing became erratic. Her jaw trembled. The dam was cracking.
This—this is what she longed for. Years ago. When she lay in a sterile hospital room after giving birth alone. When she watched the rain fall outside her apartment window in Paris, pretending it didn't sound like his voice calling her name in every drop.
She wanted this grief. This regret.
This proof that she mattered.
And now it was here.
Her eyes welled with tears, her throat thick. Her legs gave out and she knelt before him, knees touching the hardwood floor. Her hand reached out, trembling, and threaded through his dark hair.
He flinched — not because of pain, but because he didn't believe he deserved her touch.
Still, he leaned into her palm like it was the first warmth he'd felt in years.
"You broke me," she whispered, the words trembling. "You left me."
"I know," Jungkook sobbed, "and I'll never forgive myself. But please—hit me. Hate me. Do whatever you want, just—don't go. Don't take them away from me."
His words made her chest ache. Her hand trembled as she clutched his shoulder. Her fist curled, and then—
She hit him.
A soft thud echoed in the quiet room as her palm met his chest.
Then another.
And another.
Years of pain, betrayal, abandonment—all pouring out of her like a storm she could no longer hold back.
"You left me!" she screamed through tears. "You turned your back on me! On our baby!"
"For years!" she cried. "I waited! I bled for you! I carried your children when you weren't there! I raised them without you! I hated you!"
Jungkook let her hit him. Again and again. He took it like he promised he would. His hands never once rose to stop her — only to hold her, gently, when she started to fall apart in his arms.
Her fists weakened. Her body slumped forward.
He caught her.
She didn't collapse to him. She collapsed at him. Still hitting, still sobbing, years and years of betrayal spilling out like a storm she couldn't stop.
Jungkook cradled her, forehead pressed to hers, his tears falling onto her cheeks.
"I love you," he whispered. "I never stopped. And I never will."
Taehyungie trembled violently in his arms, choking on grief and pain and something far worse—love.
Namjoon looked away, wiping his eyes.
Jiminie bit her lip to hold back a sob.
Jinnie quietly cried, the lunchbox still in her hands.
And through it all, the storm outside wept with them.
"I waited for you on that hospital bed," she whispered through her tears, her voice hoarse. "I waited and waited, Jungkook. I kept telling myself maybe the door would open. Maybe you'd walk in. I wanted to believe you would... but you didn't come."
His fingers clenched around her waist like he was afraid she would slip away if he let go.
"I was scared," he rasped, broken. "I was a coward. I ran from the weight of what I did — from you, from them. I hated myself so much, Tae... but that doesn't even come close to what I did to you. I destroyed us."
Taehyungie's hands threaded again into his hair, not out of comfort — but out of need. Because even now, even after everything, her body remembered him. Her heart had never forgotten the shape of him in her life.
She trembled as she spoke.
"You know what's cruel, Jungkook?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Even after all the pain... after all the years... a part of me still wanted you to come crying like this. I imagined it. Over and over. You at my feet, sobbing for forgiveness. And now you're here... and I feel like the most bitter woman alive for being satisfied."
Jungkook didn't reply. His shoulders only trembled more.
Taehyungie cupped his cheeks and tilted his face up. His eyes were ruined. Red, glossy, wild with regret.
"I hate you," she said, voice cracking. "But god, I loved you so much it tore me in half."
A whimper escaped Jungkook's throat.
"Tae..."
"I was nothing to you," she cried. "Just a stupid girl you played dare with. I kept wondering what I did wrong, why I wasn't enough—"
"No," Jungkook choked out, shaking his head frantically. "Don't—don't say that. You were never the problem. I was. I was a reckless, selfish idiot. You were my whole world and I was too blind to see it."
Their faces were close now. Too close.
Her breath hitched.
"I'm still leaving," she whispered, voice trembling. "I have to... for me. For the kids. I can't stay here and bleed every time I look at you."
"I know," Jungkook nodded, his lips trembling. "But let me keep trying, even if it's from a distance. Let me prove I'm worthy to be their father. To be your Jungkook again — even if you never take me back."
Taehyungie didn't answer.
Her hands cupped his face tighter, eyes scanning his ruined expression, as if committing it to memory — the rawness, the devastation, the truth.
Jinnie couldn't stop crying. She had turned her face into Namjoon's shoulder. Namjoon's jaw clenched, his hand over his mouth as he fought the sting behind his eyes.
But Jungkook and Taehyungie?
They were in their own world.
A world built from heartbreak and memory.
And slowly — painfully — Taehyungie leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his.
She wasn't forgiving him.
Not yet.
But for the first time, she was letting herself feel it all — the rage, the love, the loss, the unbearable longing. And she was letting him feel it, too.
Both of them breathing in the same silence.
Both of them breaking all over again.
And still — holding on.
Tiny footsteps padded down the hallway — first slow and hesitant, then faster with excitement once their eyes registered the man kneeling on the floor.
"Daddy!" Taehyun's voice rang out like a bell.
Jungkook lifted his head slowly, still kneeling. His cheeks were tear-streaked, hair disheveled, chest heaving. He turned toward the sound — and there they were. His little boy, running toward him. Taeri not far behind, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw his face.
The moment shattered whatever control Jungkook had left. A new wave of sobs tore through him, but this time, it wasn't the agony of loss — it was the unbearable flood of love.
Taehyun threw his small arms around his father's neck without hesitation, and Jungkook caught him instinctively, curling his body around his son like he was something precious and fragile. Taeri crawled into his other arm, hugging him just as tightly.
He couldn't stop crying.
"Daddy, why are you crying?" Taeri's voice was small, muffled against his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"
Jungkook shook his head, unable to speak yet. He kissed the crown of her head, then pressed another kiss to Taehyun's cheek. He held them tighter. Tighter. As if letting go would mean they'd disappear.
"No, no, baby," he finally managed, his voice wrecked. "Daddy is okay now. Daddy is just... happy. So, so happy to see you."
They didn't understand. But their tiny hands stroked his cheeks, their innocent faces full of concern and love. And that was enough.
"I missed you," Taehyun whispered, curling deeper into his arms.
"I missed you too," Jungkook croaked. "So much, my baby. So, so much."
Taehyungie stood frozen, her hands still trembling at her sides. She hadn't wiped the tears on her cheeks yet, nor could she find the strength to.
Watching the man who once abandoned her now hold her children like they were his lifeline... it was overwhelming.
And unfair.
Because it shouldn't have taken this much pain to get here.
It shouldn't have taken this much loss for him to realize what he had.
Jungkook finally stood up, his arms still wrapped around the twins. He looked at her, eyes swollen and red, lips pressed tight as if he was trying not to say anything that would push her further away.
Taeri tugged his sleeve and asked innocently, "Daddy, are you coming to Paris with us?"
Jungkook's heart broke all over again. His gaze flickered to Taehyungie, who immediately looked away, her jaw clenched.
"I..." he began, swallowing the lump rising in his throat. "I'll visit. Every time I can. I promise. Every week if I have to. I'll be there."
Taehyuns face fell. "Why not come now?"
"Because Daddy still has things to fix here," he replied softly. "But I'll always come to you, okay? No matter what."
The children nodded, only partially satisfied.
Taehyungie turned her back to them before her emotions could spill again. She moved toward the doorway slowly, her hand reaching for the suitcase handle. Jinnie quietly wiped her tears. Namjoon rubbed his face roughly, and Jiminie clutched her shirt near her heart.
The air was heavy with everything unspoken.
As Jungkook walked with the kids toward the door, he dared to speak — just once more.
"Taehyungie," he said, barely above a whisper.
She didn't turn.
"I don't expect anything," he continued. "But... thank you. For letting me hold them. For letting me feel this. Even if it's just for today."
She paused for a long second. Her back to him.
And then, with a voice soft and tired, she replied:
"You'll see them again. I'm not taking them away from you, Jungkook. I'm just taking myself back."
With that, she stepped outside.
And this time — he let her go.
Not because he wanted to.
But because he finally understood.
The car was packed. The engine hummed lowly as the driver waited. Outside the Kim residence, the morning air was still, hushed like the world itself was holding its breath.
Jungkook stood by the garden steps, motionless, watching as Namjoon helped Taehyungie load the last of their bags into the trunk. The twins stood close to their mother, unusually quiet, their small hands clinging to her dress.
Jiminie crouched down to fix Taeri's coat collar, smiling softly despite the glint of tears in her eyes. Jinnie handed the kids a small lunchbox each — filled with snacks and sweets she knew they liked. "So you don't miss home too much," she whispered, kissing their foreheads.
Taehyungie remained silent through it all.
Not cold. Just quiet. Still tightly wound around her own hurt, each breath she took measured and controlled.
Jungkook's gaze was fixed on her — the delicate slope of her shoulders, the way she blinked more often than usual, as if to hide something. The way she hadn't looked at him once since she'd stepped outside.
The twins turned to him.
"Daddy..." Taehyun stepped forward. "You won't forget us, right?"
Jungkook's chest collapsed inward.
He crouched, hugging both of them at once, burying his nose in their hair as if memorizing them. "Never," he whispered fiercely. "Never ever. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. The best part of me lives in both of you."
Taeri's bottom lip trembled. "But we want you to come too..."
"I know, my baby," Jungkook murmured, his voice shaking. "But daddy will come soon. I'll visit. I promise. And I'll call every night. Every morning too. I'll make sure you never miss me too long."
They nodded, but their eyes were downcast.
Taehyungie finally moved toward the car, gently nudging the kids forward. Jiminie already inside after hugging Namjoon and Jinnie. They held Jungkook's hands until the very last second, their little fingers slipping from his grip with quiet reluctance.
He straightened, eyes fixed on Taehyungie.
She paused before getting into the car. Her hand on the door handle, her face still unreadable.
Jungkook took one hesitant step forward, lips parted.
But she didn't look back.
She opened the door and got in. The twins peered out from the backseat window, waving slowly as the engine began to hum louder.
He waved back, his hand trembling.
The car began to roll forward.
One second.
Two.
Five.
They were gone.
The dust settled.
The silence fell.
Jungkook didn't move. He stood there, staring at the end of the road long after the car had disappeared. Long after the others had gone back inside. His hands hung at his sides, empty.
This was what letting go felt like.
Not a scream.
Not a bang.
Just the echo of tires on gravel, and the emptiness they left behind.
--
😭😭😭 sobs
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 28: Chances
Chapter Text
The Parisian skyline greeted Taehyungie with the same majestic indifference it had the first time she'd arrived five years ago—heartbroken, determined, and pregnant. It was both home and battlefield. A place where she had learned how to survive. To thrive. To harden.
The plane ride had been silent for the most part. The twins dozed off shortly after takeoff, nestled beside her in first class, tiny hands clutching her sleeves as though they feared she'd disappear midair. But Taehyungie? She hadn't slept a wink. Her eyes had burned as clouds floated beneath them, her fingers trembling as she held onto her planner like it was her lifeline.
Paris was supposed to mean peace. It was supposed to be where she could breathe again. Where she'd silence the storm Jungkook had stirred in her heart.
But as they touched down, and the French sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the runway in gold, she felt only a quiet ache. A hollow heaviness in her chest.
Claire's driver was already waiting at the gate with a black Mercedes and a bouquet of soft pink lilies—the kind Taehyungie loved. Claire never missed a detail. She was elegance personified, even when absent.
"Bienvenue à la maison," the driver said softly as he took their bags.
Taehyungie only nodded. Jiminie, too tired to speak.
The kids woke groggily, clinging to her arms and yawning in unison. Taeri was especially quiet, her head resting against her mother's shoulder, her eyes watching the world pass with subdued wonder. Taehyun sat silently on her lap, staring out the window as they drove through the familiar streets.
Every turn was a memory. Every cobbled road a whisper of who she had been.
Claire was waiting at the entrance of the estate—her silver hair swept into a chignon, her arms open wide.
"My little star," she whispered as Taehyungie stepped out of the car.
Taehyungie didn't speak. She folded herself into Claire's arms like a child and breathed in the familiar perfume—jasmine, rosewood, something maternal. Her chest cracked open a little more.
Claire cupped her face with gloved hands. "You look older," she said with a soft smile. "More powerful. But tired."
Taehyungie didn't correct her.
The estate was still the same. Tall archways, grand marble floors, rooms too large for just one person. Her room, along with Jiminie's had been aired and prepared for them, and a smaller suite had been decorated in soft blues and yellows for the twins.
They explored the house like they'd never left, squealing at the gold-framed paintings and laughing as they tried to chase each other down the endless halls. Claire clapped her hands and joined them, letting them believe they were on a grand treasure hunt. Their laughter was music. Loud. Bright.
But Taehyungie couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Or someone.
That night, she stood on the balcony with a glass of red wine, looking out over Paris. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance. The stars blinked softly. She pulled her robe tighter around her frame and closed her eyes, letting the wind whip her hair around her face.
She should've felt relief.
But instead, she felt everything.
The echo of Jungkook's voice calling her name. The sound of his knees hitting the floor. His tears against her hands. His voice, hoarse and shaking, pleading for her forgiveness. The twins in his arms. That broken look in his eyes when he thought he'd lost her again.
She brought the glass to her lips but couldn't drink. Her hands were shaking too much.
Claire appeared behind her, a silk shawl in hand. "You're not really back, are you?"
Taehyungie didn't answer.
Claire sighed and wrapped the shawl around her shoulders. "You left your heart with him."
"No," Taehyungie replied too quickly. "I left him for the second time."
"But the first time... he left you."
Taehyungie turned to look at Claire, her eyes burning. "Do you think I'm wrong?"
"No," Claire whispered. "But I think you're hurt. And sometimes, when we're hurt, we mistake survival for healing."
Later that night, the twins had trouble falling asleep.
"Can Daddy sing us his pancake song?" Taeri mumbled against her pillow.
"He's not here, baby," Taehyungie said softly, brushing her hair back.
"Why not?" Taehyun whispered.
Taehyungie's heart cracked open. She leaned down and kissed their foreheads. "Daddy's just... far away. But he loves you. He'll visit soon."
"Promise?"
She smiled through the ache. "Promise."
They nodded slowly, still uncertain, and drifted into sleep holding each other.
Taehyungie stood in the doorway for a long time, watching the rise and fall of their small chests. Her children. Her whole world. She had to be strong—for them.
But when she returned to her room, she opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out the old photograph once more.
The one taken on that rainy day in Seoul.
Their lips touching. Her smile wide. Jungkook's hand curled around her cheek as though she were something precious.
And for the first time since arriving in Paris, Taehyungie broke.
She curled into her sheets, pressed the photo to her chest, and let herself cry silently into the night.
She had left.
But her soul... was still in Seoul.
--
The private jet touched down on the sleek runway of Le Bourget Airport just as the pale morning light painted the skies of Paris with soft hues of lavender and rose. The city was waking up, but Jungkook hadn't slept. Not truly. Not since they left.
He sat motionless as the flight crew finished their routine, his elbows resting on his knees, fists clenched tightly, the worn photo of his twins in one hand and the silver bracelet Taehyungie had left behind in the other. His heart thudded with a strange rhythm—hope and fear colliding like a storm beneath his skin.
It had been a month.
Thirty full days since she walked away with his children, her heart still shattered, her eyes filled with betrayal and quiet resolve. A month of watching the clock tick endlessly, forcing himself to become a man worthy of being in her orbit again.
He came because he couldn't stay away.
The door opened. The wind of Paris kissed his skin as he descended the stairs in a black coat and scarf, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion and longing. Hoseok had insisted on handling everything at Jeon Enterprises. Jungkook had finally trusted someone with his empire—for her. For the children.
He didn't bring a team. No assistants. No security detail. Just him. A man with a purpose and a breaking heart.
Meanwhile, in the heart of Paris...
Taehyungie was breathtaking.
The queen of the fashion world had returned with a vengeance—graceful, composed, divine. She walked the polished floors of Maison Duval like she never left, her heels echoing in the glass halls, her voice decisive yet calm. Designs flourished under her touch. Campaigns bloomed because of her vision.
Today, she wore an elegant navy-blue pantsuit, cinched at the waist, with her hair swept up in a soft twist. Her assistants clung to her words like gospel. She gave orders with a subtle nod and received admiration with a quiet smile.
To the world, she was healed.
But in the early hours, before the sun rose, Taehyungie would pause at her terrace with a cup of coffee, eyes distant as her twins slept peacefully down the hall. And some nights, she would wake up gasping, the memory of a soft touch, a quiet "I love you" whispered in a fever dream. Those nights were always the worst. Because she wanted to hate him... but her heart betrayed her.
She had told herself she was over it. That her healing was complete.
But Paris, for all its beauty, felt colder without him.
That evening
The estates was quiet when Jungkook drove into estates of the Parisian penthouses. He had asked Namjoon for her address. "If you're coming there, Jeon," he had said, "don't come to mess her up again. Or I'll destroy you myself."
He had simply whispered, "I won't. I'll make things right."
The gates opened slowly. He drove inside.
The first thing he saw was the garden—Taehyungie's favorite part. And then, through the floor-to-ceiling glass, he saw them.
His twins. Sitting on the living room floor. Coloring.
Taehyungie was curled on the couch beside them, hair slightly loose, no makeup, wearing a simple white blouse and soft gray lounge pants. She looked... achingly beautiful. Real. Gentle.
Jungkook's breath left him like a punch to the chest.
He got out of the car. Entered the elevator and placed in the passcode.
He took a step forward. And then another.
And then Taehyungie looked up.
Their eyes met.
Time didn't freeze. It shattered.
Taehyungie stood slowly, as if afraid to blink. She hadn't dreamed him, had she? She knew he would visit but not this early. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Her lips parted slightly as she whispered the name she'd tried not to say for weeks.
"Jungkook...?"
He swallowed hard. "Hi."
The twins looked up in confusion, then joy bloomed like firecrackers.
"Daddy!" they screamed in unison.
Before he could even blink, two blurs flung themselves into him. Jungkook staggered slightly, his arms instinctively dropping his bag to catch them.
"Taeri... Taehyun..." he choked, breathless, arms curling tightly around their little bodies.
"We missed you so much!" Taeri cried, climbing his chest like a tree. "You said you'd be back soon but it was sooo long!"
"I counted twelve sleeps," Taehyun mumbled into his father's coat. "But then I lost count."
Jungkook dropped to his knees, burying his face in their shoulders, holding them like they were the only thing anchoring him to this world. Their scent—sugar and sunshine—flooded him. Their weight felt like grace.
"I missed you more," he whispered hoarsely. "Every single minute."
Behind the twins' delighted squeals and tangled hugs, a silence fell.
Jungkook looked up.
And he saw her.
Taehyungie stood at the far end of the living room, she looked like a ghost that didn't want to be summoned.
He stood slowly, the twins still clinging to his coat. His mouth opened, his heart stammering painfully in his chest.
"...Taehyungie."
His voice cracked on the last syllable.
She didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass of water she held, but otherwise, she was still as glass.
"I..." Jungkook stepped forward slightly, swallowing hard. "How... how have you been?"
A beat passed.
Then another.
Taehyungie's eyes flicked to the twins briefly. Then—just barely—she gave him a curt nod. One simple gesture. Cold and closed-off. But her fingers trembled.
It slammed the breath out of his lungs.
But he nodded, too. Accepted it. Because he had no right to want more. Not yet.
The twins didn't seem to notice the tension curling in the room. They beamed up at their father, dragging him further into the living room.
"Daddy, you have to see the giraffe mama got me!" Taeri grinned. "It's taller than Uncle Namjoon!"
"And we have a telescope now!" Taehyun added. "Mama says we can see the stars from the balcony!"
Jungkook let them tug him, let their voices coat the cracks in his chest. But as he sat down with them, he still felt her presence like a wound. She remained standing by the wall, quiet and untouchable.
Even as his children laughed beside him, his eyes kept flicking back to the woman who once held his heart.
And the woman whose heart he broke.
She didn't say another word.
But God—her silence screamed.
The penthouse fell into a gentle hush as the stars began to slow dance deeper across the Parisian sky. The twins had finally drifted off, curled against their father's chest like the two halves of his aching heart. Taeri's tiny hand was still wrapped around one of his fingers, and Taehyun had nuzzled into his side with a soft sigh.
Jungkook stayed there a while longer, just listening to their soft breaths, committing this moment to memory—because God only knew what tomorrow might bring.
After he tucked them in, he stepped into the living room quietly. The lights were dimmed, the air still. The scent of Taehyungie lingered faintly—lavender and rain.
And he saw her.
She was out on the balcony, leaning against the stone rail, arms crossed, eyes lifted to the stars like she was searching for answers only the cosmos could give.
Jungkook hesitated in the hallway, debating whether to go to her. His heart pounded like it did back when they were teenagers, like the first time he held her hand in the park, like the first time he ever kissed her in the dark behind the school gates.
He stepped outside.
The night was cooler than he expected. Paris was always quiet this time of night, but it felt deafening beside the space between them.
Taehyungie didn't look at him.
He didn't speak yet.
For a moment, all he did was look at her. Really look. The way her collarbone caught the light. The way her jaw tensed when she was thinking too hard. The way her lashes fluttered with some invisible emotion.
"...The twins missed you," she said softly.
It was the first thing she'd said to him all day.
Jungkook's breath caught. "I missed them, too," he replied, equally soft. "Every day."
She nodded once. Eyes still on the stars.
Silence.
Jungkook stepped forward. Just a little. Just enough for her to feel him near, but not enough to cross the invisible wall she'd built.
Taehyungie turned finally. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes—God, her eyes—were oceans filled with wreckage.
"You keep saying sorry, you keep showing up, but sorry doesn't undo years. It doesn't erase that hospital room. It doesn't undo the months I cried myself to sleep while carrying your children alone. It doesn't bring back the girl who believed you wouldn't run." Her voice barely above a whisper.
Each word sliced through him like glass.
"I know," Jungkook whispered, stepping closer. "I know I can't undo it. I know I broke something... no, everything. But Taehyungie, I'm not here to rewrite the past. I'm here to stay. However you'll let me."
Her arms folded tighter over her chest, like she was holding herself together.
"I don't expect your heart," he continued. "Not now. Maybe not ever. But let me be near. Let me earn just a little of the trust I burned to ashes."
Taehyungie closed her eyes.
The city lights danced behind her, but the pain that glimmered on her lashes was more radiant than anything Paris could offer.
"I'm tired, Jungkook," she breathed. "So tired. I've spent years being strong. For them. For myself. And now that you're here again... everything hurts. Again."
He took one more step.
Then stopped.
"I know," he whispered. "But if you let me... I'll carry some of that pain. I'll carry you if I have to."
Taehyungie's chin trembled.
Her voice was barely audible. "Don't say things you don't mean. Don't give me hope."
He didn't reach for her. He didn't dare.
Instead, he looked up at the stars—the same stars they once stared at on a rooftop in Seoul, seventeen and reckless.
"I mean every word," he said. "And if it takes the rest of my life, I'll prove it."
Taehyungie turned away.
One tear escaped and hit the railing between them.
Neither of them noticed the stars were weeping, too.
Taehyungie eventually stepped back inside, brushing past Jungkook with her silence more deafening than any scream. He watched her go, his hands clenched at his sides.
A few minutes passed.
He couldn't stay. He knew that. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, not when she'd only just begun to breathe again. He'd already taken up too much space in her heart, in her life.
So he did the only thing he thought was right.
Quietly, Jungkook walked back inside, gently gathering the small duffel he'd brought with him. He made no noise. Even his steps felt apologetic. His hand lingered for just a moment on the back of the couch-- the one she was seated in.
He turned toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Her voice.
Soft.
Quiet.
But sharp enough to slice right through his ribs.
He froze.
"Just..." he swallowed, gripping the strap tighter. "I'm heading to a nearby hotel. Just until I can find a place here—maybe a penthouse nearby. I won't bother you."
There was a pause.
Then footsteps. Slow, careful ones.
"Jungkook," Taehyungie said.
He turned slightly, enough to see her silhouette in the dim hallway light. She looked calm—but her eyes betrayed her.
"You should stay."
He blinked, unsure if he heard her right.
"What?"
Taehyungie shifted her weight, arms still crossed tightly against her chest. "It's late. The twins will wake up early. They'll cry if you're not here."
She said it like it was nothing. Like it was just a mother's concern for her children.
But her voice—there was something fragile in it. Something that hinted at the war still waging inside her.
Jungkook's lips parted, but no words came.
She looked away. "The guest room's already made up. You can sleep there."
"I don't want to impose," he said carefully.
"You're not."
Another pause.
"I just..." she bit her lip, her composure beginning to slip, "I just want them to wake up happy tomorrow. I don't want to explain why you're gone again. I can't do that to them. Not now."
And maybe that was the truest thing she'd said all night.
Jungkook's fingers slowly loosened from the strap of his duffel. His heart was caught in his throat.
He took a cautious step toward her. "Are you sure?"
Taehyungie met his gaze. Her eyes shimmered, not with forgiveness—but with exhaustion, with emotion too raw to speak aloud.
"I'm not doing this for us," she said, voice firm despite the crack that threatened. "I'm doing it for them."
Jungkook nodded. "Of course."
"I still don't forgive you."
"I know."
"I still don't trust you."
"I know."
She exhaled, then turned away before her tears could betray her again. "The guest room's to the left."
He watched her disappear down the hallway, her shadow long and haunting in the moonlight.
And he stood there, motionless for a moment, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
He stayed.
That night, Jungkook didn't sleep much.
He lay in the guest room, staring at the ceiling, the quiet sounds of the penthouse around him — the ticking of a distant clock, the creak of old wood, the soft wind brushing against the windows.
But in the middle of the night, just before dawn, he heard it.
Tiny footsteps.
The door creaked open.
"Daddy?"
Taeri's sleepy voice, barely a whisper.
He sat up instantly. "Taeri? What's wrong?"
"We woke up and you weren't there," she mumbled, climbing onto the bed with her little brother in tow. "We thought you left again..."
Jungkook's heart cracked in his chest.
"No, no," he whispered, pulling them both into his arms. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
Taehyun pressed his head into Jungkook's chest, Taeri curled into his side.
Their breaths steadied. Their little hands held on.
And Jungkook finally allowed himself to cry again, silently—holding onto what he'd almost lost forever.
--
The morning sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains, casting a delicate golden haze over the Parisian penthouse. The city below was just beginning to stir, but inside the room, warmth had already made its home.
Jungkook stirred to soft weight against his chest and arms. Two tiny bodies were curled into him, their breaths deep and even. Taeri's hand was resting just above his heart, Taehyun's small foot pressed against his thigh. A sleepy smile tugged at his lips before the memories of the previous night returned in quiet waves—Taehyungie's voice asking him to stay, the fragile look in her eyes, the ache in his chest when she turned away.
He didn't deserve this moment, but he soaked it in anyway. Their scent, the way their faces pressed against him, the innocence of their trust—he wrapped it around himself like a balm.
A faint knock on the door stirred the peace. It opened quietly, and Taehyungie peeked in, her eyes immediately falling on the trio. She stilled.
The sight before her was too tender, too soft. It cracked something in her chest.
Jungkook looked up and met her gaze, his voice low and hoarse.
"They came in last night."
Taehyungie nodded, her voice caught in her throat. She stepped inside quietly and whispered, "I'll make breakfast."
He watched her walk away, the silk of her robe brushing past the doorframe like a ghost.
In the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and eggs with toast filled the air. Taehyungie moved with ease, yet her fingers were unsteady, her thoughts spinning. Jinnie had once told her healing doesn't always feel like peace—it sometimes feels like chaos in disguise. Maybe that's what this was.
She didn't turn around when Jungkook entered, barefoot, his shirt rumpled from sleep, the twins sleepily holding his hands.
"We missed you, Daddy," Taeri mumbled as Taehyun nodded, rubbing his eyes.
"I missed you more," Jungkook said softly, lifting them one by one onto the tall chairs by the island.
The atmosphere was warm but cautious. Taehyungie placed plates in front of the twins and handed Jungkook his cup of coffee without a word. Their fingers brushed, just briefly, and it was enough to silence them both.
"Thank you," Jungkook said gently.
She gave a small nod.
The twins munched away, completely oblivious to the tension humming between their parents.
"Mommy's eggs are yummy," Taehyun said.
"But Daddy's toast is crispy!" Taeri added cheerfully, making Jungkook chuckle.
Taehyungie sat at the end of the island, sipping her own coffee. She didn't eat much, just watched them—watched him—with eyes too tired to burn and a heart too scarred to show.
For a moment, Jungkook forgot he had lost her. This—this tiny breakfast scene with their children giggling—was everything he never thought he'd have.
"You slept okay?" she finally asked, voice low.
Jungkook blinked, caught off-guard. "Yeah... better than I've slept in weeks."
Another nod. Another silence.
Taehyungie looked at the twins, then back at him. "You'll take them to the museum later, right? Jiminie reserved the passes."
"I will," he said softly, eyes never leaving hers. "Only if you're okay with it."
She paused for a second too long, then said, "They'd love it."
Jungkook's chest tightened.
Taehyungie rose first, collecting her mug. "There's extra coffee if you want more," she said without looking at him.
And just like that, she walked away, soft steps fading into the hall.
He watched her go, lips parting with unsaid words. Maybe he didn't deserve another chance. Maybe she'd never look at him the same way again. But she let him stay. And the part of her that hadn't slammed the door shut—that part—was the thread he clung to.
As the twins called for him to eat, Jungkook joined them again, silently promising that he'd give everything he had to earn back not just their trust, but the one soul he had hurt the most.
The sky over Paris was washed in gentle hues of spring blue and the warmth of morning sunlight spilled across the cobblestone streets. The city, known for its timeless beauty and romantic rhythm, pulsed softly beneath the feet of a man who had once lost everything... and now, was trying to piece together what still could be his.
Jungkook held his twins' hands tightly as they stepped out of the building. He'd wrapped them in light jackets, the sleeves slightly too long.
"Daddy," Taeri chirped, tugging at his fingers, "Will the museum have ballerinas?"
"Maybe," Jungkook smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. "Let's go find out."
Taehyungie hadn't joined them. She had waved from the steps—barely. She was still careful, distant. But she had watched them leave, and that small moment meant more than she'd ever know.
As they walked, Jungkook looked down at the twins, their eyes wide with wonder. He could see her in them—Taehyungie—in the curious tilt of Taehyun's head, in the graceful skip of Taeri's steps. They were so full of life. So untouched by the weight of their parents' mistakes.
He wanted to keep it that way.
They reached the Musée d'Orsay, the river glinting nearby, tourists bustling around, but Jungkook paid it no mind. Inside, he lifted Taeri into his arms to help her see the paintings. Taehyun held his father's coat, silently observing the colors and light.
"That's a ballerina," Jungkook pointed to one of Degas' famous works. "What do you think?"
Taeri's eyes sparkled. "She looks like Mommy."
Jungkook's heart seized.
"She does," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Just like her."
They wandered for hours. Jungkook let them take the lead—watching them giggle at the statues, gasp at the paintings, argue over who would sit by the window in the cafe. It was the most peaceful day he had felt in what felt like years.
At one point, Taehyun sat down at a bench, staring at a painting of a family—two children and two parents under an apple tree.
"Is this like us?" he asked, looking up at Jungkook.
The question came so suddenly that Jungkook froze. His voice was thick when he replied, "It can be. If you want it to be."
Taehyun nodded slowly. "But Mommy is sad sometimes."
Jungkook sank beside him, placing a hand on the boy's back. "I know, hyunie. I made her sad. And I'm... I'm really trying to fix that. But it takes time."
Taehyun said nothing, just leaned against him, small and quiet and wise beyond his years.
Taeri soon skipped over with chocolate on her lips. "Look what the museum lady gave me, Daddy!"
Jungkook laughed softly, taking the treat from her hand to unwrap it. "She gave you this because you're too cute, huh?"
She giggled. "Yes! I told her I was Taeri Jeon."
Jungkook stilled, eyes softening.
Taeri Jeon.
The way she said it—unaware of the history behind that name, the pain, the weight—it gave him hope. That maybe, slowly, they could reclaim what was lost.
Later, they walked back through the streets, Jungkook carrying Taehyun, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Taeri held his hand, asking questions about clouds and street music and if Paris had dinosaurs.
By the time they returned to the penthouse, dusk was setting in. Jungkook opened the door carefully, mindful of the weight against him.
Taehyungie was there—standing by the window, watching the city with unreadable eyes.
"We're back," Jungkook said gently.
She turned. Her gaze fell first on the sleeping boy in his arms, then to Taeri bouncing beside him.
"Did they have fun?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Jungkook smiled softly. "I think Paris just made two new fans."
Taehyungie's eyes fell on the children, her expression softening without her permission. She stepped forward, brushing Taehyun's hair gently.
"He needs a nap," she murmured.
"I'll tuck them in."
She nodded and stepped aside, and as Jungkook passed her, their shoulders brushed. Just a whisper of contact. But it was enough to ignite the storm again inside both their hearts.
He laid the twins in bed, kissed their foreheads, and returned to find Taehyungie still by the window.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?"
"For letting me have this day."
She didn't reply.
But she didn't look away either.
And maybe that was enough—for now.
--
The night had fallen gently over Paris, wrapping the city in a hush that seemed almost respectful—of its aching hearts, its old loves, and its quiet wounds. The penthouse was silent, save for the soft hum of the radiator and the distant sounds of cars moving below.
Taehyungie sat by the tall window, legs tucked beneath her, hair let loose from its braid. The moonlight spilled across her face like a caress, cool and soft, but it did nothing to cool the heat behind her eyes.
Jungkook had been quiet after returning. Respectful. Kind.
Painfully kind.
He hadn't asked to stay up with her. He hadn't pushed for conversation. He'd simply nodded after tucking the twins in and walked quietly to the guest room, leaving a soft "Goodnight" in the air like a memory she didn't know how to hold.
Taehyungie had nodded back. That was all she could manage.
Now, hours later, she still couldn't sleep.
The city outside was glowing. The Eiffel Tower in the far distance sparkled like a distant wish.
She reached for her phone and found herself dialing Jiminie before she could stop.
The line rang only once before the screen filled with the familiar, sleepy-yet-glamorous face of her best friend.
"Queen Kim," Jiminie smirked, adjusting the fluffy white robe on his shoulders. Behind her was a mess of clothing racks, fabric rolls, and models giggling off-screen. "Miss me already?"
Taehyungie smiled softly. "Always."
Jiminie leaned closer, noticing the shadows beneath her eyes. "You okay?"
"I don't know," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
That was all it took.
"Out," Jiminie called over his shoulder. "Everyone, out. Ten minutes break."
There were some groans and laughter, but soon the background emptied. Taehyungie heard the door shut and then Jiminie was there—fully present, fully hers, even across the city.
"Talk to me," she said gently.
Taehyungie swallowed. Her eyes flicked toward the hallway where the guest room was. The door was closed. The world felt like it was standing still again.
"He came back ," she said. "Took them out. They were so happy, Jiminie. So... whole."
Jiminie nodded, her expression unreadable.
"And when he came home," her voice cracked, "he looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. Like I still mattered."
"Do you want to matter to him?" Jiminie asked.
She inhaled deeply. "I don't know. I want to hate him. I've hated him for so long. But when I see him with our children... I can't help thinking maybe—maybe he's not the boy who broke me anymore."
Jiminie said nothing. She waited, gently, for her to unravel.
Taehyungie exhaled shakily and looked down at her lap.
"He asked how I was... and I could barely nod. I couldn't say a word, Chim. My throat—my heart—it just... froze. I thought I was over this. I thought I had healed."
"You have," Jiminie whispered. "But healing doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean you won't bleed when you touch old scars."
Her eyes stung. She nodded.
"Do you love him?" Jiminie asked gently.
Taehyungie's breath caught.
"I don't know," she lied, and they both knew it.
Jiminie's expression softened. "Then sleep, Taetae. Let the night carry the weight. You don't have to decide everything tonight."
Taehyungie nodded again, slower this time. "Thank you."
"You're not alone. You never were."
When the call ended, she stared at the blank screen for a long time, as if hoping it would reflect the answers she couldn't say aloud.
Then, she stood, walked into her room, and paused by the dresser drawer she never opened.
Inside, tucked neatly under folded scarves, was the photograph.
Jungkook, smiling wide, holding her hand around his neck. The rain dripping from his dark curls. Her eyes closed in the kiss. The photo still smelled faintly of old paper and lavender.
She didn't cry.
She didn't smile.
She just stared, letting the memory bleed into the quiet.
And finally, she placed it gently back in the drawer.
As she slipped under the covers, eyes heavy and full, one thought echoed through her.
He is trying.
And for now, that was enough to let her rest.
A gentle knock at the door stirred the morning stillness of the penthouse.
Jungkook, in a simple black knit sweater and grey slacks, was in the living room folding the twins' pajamas when he heard it. Taehyungie had gone to dress the children in the nursery, the hallway quiet aside from giggles and the occasional squeal.
He blinked, standing. Maybe its Jiminie? He stepped forward and opened it.
A tall woman stood poised on the threshold, dressed in a flowing cream coat with silk gloves, large black sunglasses, and an aura so regal it stole the air from the corridor. Her lipstick was a shade of dignified rouge. Her gaze—though partially hidden—was sharp, assessing.
Jungkook blinked. "Hello—can I help you?"
Claire tilted her head slightly, lips tugging into the faintest of smiles.
"Who might you be?" she asked, voice smooth like aged wine, though Jungkook didn't miss the ice nestled beneath it.
Before he could fumble for a reply, footsteps padded from the hall.
"Claire?" Taehyungie's surprised voice chimed, almost breathless. She appeared in the doorway, adjusting the bow of her blouse. "You're early!"
Claire's face broke into genuine warmth, "Darling," she said, stepping forward with arms extended.
They embraced like old royalty—soft, familiar, precious.
"Please, come in," Taehyungie said, stepping aside.
Jungkook stepped back respectfully, giving the women space as he moved toward the kitchen. "Would you like some water, ma'am?"
Claire's eyes flicked to him, her elegant brows rising just slightly in curiosity. "Yes. Thank you," she murmured, faint surprise in her tone.
She sat gracefully on the plush armchair, legs crossed neatly as Jungkook returned with a glass. She accepted it with a small nod. "Merci."
Jungkook offered a slight bow before excusing himself quietly, disappearing into the hallway.
Claire's eyes followed him until he vanished, then drifted back to Taehyungie, who stood by the window, fiddling with a tassel on the curtain.
"Well," Claire drawled softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue. "Care to tell me who the handsome young man is?"
Taehyungie exhaled, lips twitching in half a smile. "That's... Jungkook."
Claire blinked once. "As in—the Jungkook?"
Taehyungie gave a small nod, throat tight. "The children's father. He... came to visit."
A pause stretched between them, filled only by the clinking of the ice in Claire's water.
"And you're letting him stay?" Claire asked delicately, her voice wrapped in velvet but edged with steel.
"He's only here for the kids. He hasn't asked for more," Taehyungie answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "And... they missed him."
Claire's gaze softened. She leaned back, regarding her daughter like one would a carefully polished gem—checking for new cracks.
"You look stronger than I feared," she said.
"I'm trying," Taehyungie murmured.
Claire smiled. "You're doing more than trying. But healing doesn't mean pushing everything away."
Taehyungie looked down at her lap.
Claire leaned forward. "You don't have to forgive him all at once. But..." she hesitated. "Maybe talk to him. Really talk. Sometimes a changed man doesn't need another chance. He needs to prove why he deserves it."
Taehyungie bit her lip. Her eyes glistened. "It's hard."
Claire reached over and placed a gloved hand over hers. "I didn't say it would be easy. But neither is carrying bitterness forever."
Just then—
"Godmother!"
A joyful shriek erupted from down the hall, followed by the sound of scampering feet.
Claire rose with effortless elegance just in time to catch both twins as they barreled into her arms.
"There's my little angels," she laughed, dropping her purse as she bent to embrace them. "My goodness, how you've grown! Let me look at you—are you taller than me now?"
Taeri giggled while Taehyun pointed proudly at his head. "I missed you this much!" he shouted, arms wide.
Claire chuckled, tears subtly pricking her eyes. "And I missed you double."
They chattered away in animated voices, showing her their drawings and asking if she brought them sweets.
After some minutes of warm chaos and soft laughter, Claire stood again, dusting invisible lint from her coat.
"I should leave you to your day," she said softly.
Taehyungie stood as well, walking her to the door.
Jungkook emerged from the hallway just then, rubbing the back of his neck.
Claire turned to him with a graceful nod.
"Jeon Jungkook, was it?" she asked.
He stood a little straighter. "Yes, ma'am."
Her eyes sparkled faintly. "You carry yourself well. Keep doing so."
Jungkook bowed low, humbled. "I will. Thank you."
Claire hid her amused smile, turning back to Taehyungie for one last knowing glance—a silent message passed between women who have seen too much and know better than to waste time pretending otherwise.
"Take care of yourself, Taetae."
"I will," Taehyungie whispered.
And with that, Claire slipped out of the penthouse like moonlight, her perfume lingering in the hallway like a parting kiss.
--
The smell of toast and warm milk still lingered in the air, a testament to the breakfast that had just ended in giggles and sticky jam fingers.
Jungkook stood near the hallway, buttoning Taehyun's little coat while Taeri twirled in her pink scarf, eyes shining with excitement. Their small school bags rested on their backs, bouncing with every movement.
Taehyungie smiled as she walked over, two neatly packed lunch boxes in her hands — bento-style, decorated with little stars of cucumber, rice bears, and cherry tomatoes carved like hearts.
She crouched down in front of them, gently adjusting their scarves. "Here," she said softly, offering them their lunch. "Don't forget to eat everything, okay?"
The twins nodded eagerly.
Taehyungie leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to each of their cheeks. "Study hard. Listen to your teacher. Be kind."
"We will!" they said in unison, their voices bright and promising.
Jungkook, leaning against the doorway, watched the moment unfold with an almost reverent stillness. His gaze softened — not just at the children, but at her. The way she tucked Taeri's hair behind her ear. The way she adjusted Taehyun's backpack strap like she'd done it a thousand times before. Her quiet care wrapped around their children like a second skin.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was the kind of morning he used to imagine. A dream once distant, now materializing in fragile little pieces.
The twins rushed to him next, each grabbing one of his hands.
"Daddy, let's go!" Taehyun beamed.
Taeri tugged on his sleeve. "We're gonna be late!"
"I'm coming," he chuckled, crouching to fix their shoes before standing tall again.
They were halfway out the door when a soft voice stopped him.
"Drive safe... Jungkook."
His head turned slowly.
Taehyungie stood by the entrance, arms crossed gently in front of her. Her voice had been barely above a whisper, but it echoed louder in his chest than anything else this morning.
It was the first time she'd said his name with that warmth. The first time her voice hadn't carried the weight of the past.
Jungkook's heart tugged painfully — the good kind of pain, like something tight was loosening inside him.
He nodded, voice low but filled with unspoken feeling. "Thank you."
Their eyes met for a lingering second. No fury. No frost. Just something uncertain and hopeful trembling between them.
He gave her one last look — tender and unreadable — then led the twins down the hallway to the elevator.
From the penthouse window, Taehyungie watched.
She stood tall in her ivory robe, arms tucked close to her chest, her gaze following them down the driveway. Jungkook bent carefully, helping each child into the backseat of the car, fastening their belts, adjusting their hair one last time.
He looked up, sensing something. Her eyes met his through the glass. Just briefly.
He smiled.
And she—before she could stop herself—smiled back-- small but there.
As the car rolled away, something fluttered quietly in her chest. Not the thunder of love. Not the ache of longing. Just... something soft. Something almost new.
She stood there a while longer, her fingertips lightly grazing the windowpane.
And for the first time in a long while, the silence in her chest didn't hurt.
The twins had waved their goodbyes all the way down the driveway until the black car disappeared behind the gates of the luxury Parisian gates.
When Jungkook returned, the penthouse was calm — not silent, but humming with low, deliberate purpose. He stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him. The scent of Taehyungie's perfume lingered in the air — something floral but grounded, like roses blooming in cold rain.
And then he heard her voice.
Firm. Crisp. Unapologetically clear.
"No, Sunmi, I need the samples reviewed before 1 PM," Taehyungie said sharply, her voice echoing faintly from the hallway.
Jungkook followed the sound, drawn like a thread. When he turned into the main living space, his breath hitched.
There she stood — not just as the mother of his children, not the girl from his childhood — but as her.
Taehyungie, the Queen of Paris.
Her long black coat hugged her figure with elegance, cinched at the waist with a bold designer belt. Her blouse peeked from beneath in a muted pearl tone, soft but regal. Diamond studs glittered subtly on her ears, and her makeup was flawless, drawn with the precision of a woman who had been watched, judged, and adored by the fashion capital of the world.
She was standing by the floor mirror, one hand holding her phone to her ear, the other fiddling with a delicate necklace that refused to clasp. Her fingers were working it one way, then the other, but it wouldn't sit right. Her tone remained professional, but Jungkook noticed the tiny falter in her breath as she tried again.
His feet moved before he even thought. Taehyungie's assistant's voice continued chirping through the speaker, but as soon as Jungkook stepped behind her, she stilled — a startled shift in the air.
"Let me," he said softly, voice low and steady. She didn't reply. Didn't nod. Didn't move away.
Jungkook stepped closer, gently taking the chain from her fingers. She held her breath as his fingers brushed her neck — light, careful, like a prayer. Her skin rose in a trail of goosebumps at the touch, a whisper of memory, a sudden rush of warmth.
Her assistant was still talking, oblivious, "—and the stylist called about the Milan feature—"
But Taehyungie didn't speak. She couldn't. Her lips parted slightly, her lashes fluttering as she stared into the mirror, watching him behind her.
Jungkook's eyes flicked up once, locking with hers in the reflection.
Something passed between them. Longing. Regret. Admiration. The ghost of a kiss they hadn't shared in years.
The clasp clicked into place, and Jungkook lingered a second longer than necessary before stepping back.
"There," he murmured. "Perfect." She inhaled sharply, the moment crashing down like a ripple in still water.
Taehyungie cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and returned to her call with barely a tremor. "Yes, confirm the Milan appearance," she said, her voice sharp once more. "And tell Louis I'll have the sketches reviewed by tonight."
But Jungkook didn't miss the slight tremble in her fingers as she adjusted her blazer.
He stood back, watching with quiet awe.
This was the woman she had become — commanding, brilliant, magnetic.
And yet, for one second, under the sparkle of her necklace, under the weight of her name and legacy — she'd let him touch her again.
He tucked his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with the warmth still lingering on his skin.
From across the room, Taehyungie turned her head slightly, as if feeling his gaze.
Their eyes met again.
She didn't speak.
But she didn't look away. She tore her eyes and checked the time on her phone for the third time as she adjusted her blazer in front of the full-length mirror near the entryway. Her heels clicked purposefully on the marble floor, her expression sharp, sculpted into the mask she wore when she faced the world.
Her assistant's voice buzzed softly through her wireless earpiece, listing off details about a model who'd missed fittings and the updated agenda for the Milan runway presentation.
Just as Taehyungie reached for her handbag and prepared to call the elevator, Jungkook offered, voice gentle but unwavering "I'll take you to work,"
Taehyungie looked up, mildly startled. "I have a chauffeur," she answered, instinctive, professional, dismissive.
But then Claire's voice echoed in her mind — 'You should try engaging. Begin talking to him more. See if he's really changed.'
Taehyungie hesitated. Then, quietly, almost grudgingly, she replied, "Alright."
They stepped into the elevator, the silence not heavy — just... full.
Jungkook stood beside her, hands clasped in front of him, eyes scanning her form. "You look so beautiful," he said, voice low but sincere, the words brushing the air like silk.
Taehyungie didn't look at him. Her gaze stayed on the rising numbers on the elevator display, but her fingers clenched her bag just a little tighter.
"...Thank you," she murmured, barely audible. Her heart betrayed her, thumping in her chest far too loud for her liking.
When they reached the lobby, Jungkook stepped forward without a word and opened the front door of the penthouse building for her. She paused, eyes flicking to him in surprise, but he only gave a small nod.
The sun was gentle that morning, casting golden flecks across the sleek black car waiting outside.
Jungkook opened the car door too. And Taehyungie froze.
It was such a simple thing — a gentleman opening the door — but when Jungkook did it, there was reverence in his motion. Not obligation. Not courtesy.
Reverence.
She swallowed, her throat tight, and stepped in. The ride was... not uncomfortable, but muted. The radio hummed in the background while Taehyungie's fingers danced across her phone screen, issuing precise instructions to her team.
"The embroidery needs to be hand-checked," she was saying. "No, I don't care what the client said, it needs to meet my standard."
Jungkook watched the city pass by, only stealing glances at her profile. The sun filtered through her lashes, her lips pursed as she flipped through images, muttering something about the runway angles.
"...Why isn't Jiminie around today?" she mumbled after a pause, eyes still on her phone.
Jungkook heard it. The tiny, almost childish pout in her tone.
His lips twitched.
He remembered that pout. He remembered the way her nose wrinkled just slightly when she was irritated but trying not to show it.
He didn't say anything — but the smile stayed.
Soon, the car pulled up to Maison Duval, the headquarters of her growing empire. The building loomed with glass and steel and prestige.
Two suited guards immediately came forward and opened her door. Taehyungie stepped out, back straight, head high — the very image of power wrapped in elegance.
She turned once, only for a moment, and gave Jungkook a slight nod before disappearing into the grand glass doors.
Jungkook didn't move.
He sat there in the car, watching her disappear into her kingdom.
And just before the driver pulled away, Jungkook whispered to no one but himself—
"She's... incredible."
He returned to the penthouse a few minutes later, slipping off his jacket. The place felt emptier without the twins' laughter bouncing off the walls, but it wasn't unbearable.
Today, he would clean up. Buy groceries. Maybe add little touches to make the place more like a home — a temporary one, but a home nonetheless. For them.
One step at a time.
He glanced around the apartment with a breath, then headed to the kitchen to make a list.
Outside, the Parisian morning bloomed.
Inside, something new — fragile and warm — began to take root.
The kitchen clock ticked faintly as Jungkook stood by the counter, scribbling down a mental list onto his phone.
Bread. Milk. Cereal for the twins. Kimchi. Eggs.
He paused.
Blueberry yogurt — the kids liked it. Taehyungie preferred almond milk.
He added them in. He tucked his phone into his pocket and grabbed his car keys with a low hum vibrating from his chest. Something soft. Something old. The melody was hazy, something he used to hum in high school... back when he and Taehyungie would lie on the rooftop, watching clouds drift lazily by.
The hum stayed with him all the way down the elevator, down to the sleek black car parked in the building's private lot.
As he drove to the mall, he found himself smiling. At the traffic. At the morning crowd. At nothing.
It was the first time in years he didn't feel heavy. But the moment he stepped out of the car at the mall, the air shifted.
A chill ran down his spine, almost like fingers grazing his nape.
Jungkook froze.
He turned his head slightly, scanning the open-air lot.
No one.
Just a mother walking her child. A teenager scrolling through their phone. A couple arguing about directions near the escalators. Still, the sensation crawled under his skin — like a pair of unseen eyes were pressing against the back of his neck.
He shook his head.
Get it together, he muttered to himself, pushing the cart forward as he entered the bright mall entrance.
The supermarket inside was spacious, quiet with soft French music playing overhead. Jungkook moved slowly, picking out what he needed — cereal boxes, fresh vegetables, fruit, bottled water, kid-friendly snacks. He paused at the yogurt section, crouching down with a fond grin when he saw the exact brand Taehyungie used to like.
He reached for it.
His phone rang.
He fished it out, glancing down to see Hoseok hyung flashing on the screen. He answered immediately.
"Hyung," he greeted, the warmth in his voice unfiltered. "Hey, lover boy," Hoseok teased right off the bat, "how's Paris treating you?"
Jungkook laughed softly, resting his elbows on the cart handle. "It's... good. It's wonderful, actually. The kids — God, I missed them. They're so warm and full of life. And Taehyungie..."
He paused, eyes fluttering slightly. "...She's more amazing than I remembered. She's powerful now, strong. Confident. But she's still her — that same softness under all the steel. The way she tucks their lunch in, the way she hums while organizing her files. I don't even know how I lived without hearing her voice every day."
There was a soft silence on the other end before Hoseok let out a knowing chuckle.
"You've always been smitten with her, you know. Even before the rooftop kisses and the stupid love notes. Even when you were trying to act cool with your leather jacket and toothpick in your mouth," he teased.
Jungkook chuckled, cheeks warm. "I never denied it."
"No, you didn't," Hoseok replied. "You just messed up along the way."
"I did," Jungkook admitted quietly. "But I want to make it right. This time... I want to stay. Build something with them. If she'll let me."
"She will," Hoseok said with certainty. "Eventually. Just give her time."
The call ended soon after, Jungkook promising to send pictures of the kids later. He pushed the cart to the cashier and paid, helping the attendant load the groceries into neat paper bags. Everything felt light. Simple.
Yet...
As he walked back to the car, arms full of shopping bags, the feeling returned.
The hairs on his skin wouldn't lie down. The back of his neck buzzed again.
He turned around, sharp this time.
But again, there was no one.
Just the distant beep of a reversing truck. A man talking on the phone. A little girl licking an ice cream.
Still, his eyes scanned each face.
Nothing.
He told himself he was imagining it. That he was just on edge. That emotions made you vulnerable in strange ways.
But deep down, some primal instinct whispered — You're being watched.
He inhaled deeply, calming himself.
Then he tucked the bags in the trunk, slid into the driver's seat, and drove home.
Not knowing that something had already begun to stir.
Something that didn't want peace.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 29: Porcelain
Chapter Text
Maison Duval was a glass palace kissed by gold.
Every morning it glittered under the Parisian sun, and every morning Taehyungie stepped through its front doors like a woman made of storms and silk.
Today was no different.
The double doors swung open, and the staff straightened at the sight of her.
"Madame Kim," they greeted in crisp unison.
She gave them a faint nod, sharp heels clicking against marble floors as she walked. Her slate-black coat fit like armor, her blouse crisp and slightly undone at the collar, revealing the faint shimmer of her pearl necklace — the same one Jungkook had helped her clasp this morning.
She hadn't meant to let him help. But her fingers had fumbled, and the brush of his skin against her nape had pulled goosebumps from places long dormant.
Still, she'd said nothing. She'd straightened, set her jaw, and carried on.
Now, as she walked past her assistant and into her office, her voice was clear and commanding.
"Cancel my noon appointment with the Fouché investors. Reschedule it for Thursday," she said, slipping out of her coat.
"Yes, Madame."
"And send in the final portfolio drafts for the Fall-Winter showcase. I want every last detail combed through — no loose ends this time."
"Yes, Madame."
She turned to the full-length mirror behind her desk and began adjusting her earrings. Her fingers paused. The memory of Jungkook's voice in the elevator echoed.
"You look so beautiful."
Her reflection blinked. Don't be foolish, she told herself, steadying her breath.
But still, her thoughts flickered.
To the way he opened the car door for her. The way he took the twins to school, eyes soft, hands gentle. The way he had watched her — proud, silent — when she walked into her empire.
Taehyungie closed her eyes briefly. Claire's voice stirred like wind through silk.
She let out a soft sigh and sat behind her desk, flipping open her sleek black planner.
Meetings. Model fittings. Contracts. Press statements.
Her kingdom awaited her. But her heart... her heart had the same old guest.
One she wasn't ready to welcome. Not yet. But she also wasn't strong enough to exile anymore.
By noon, Taehyungie was in her element. The boardroom echoed with her firm tone as she broke down Maison Duval's new runway approach. Designers hung on her every word, assistants scurried at her gestures, and brand investors looked visibly appeased.
She was everything she had worked to become. But even queens have moments of stillness.
By mid-afternoon, Taehyungie found herself seated by the floor-to-ceiling windows of her private lounge. Paris stretched below her like a painted dream — people moving like ants, life bustling under her watchful gaze.
She sipped her tea slowly.
And then quietly, as if it slipped without her consent, she murmured, "I miss Jiminie so much."
The assistant beside her blinked. "Madame?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, clearing her throat. "Just a passing thought." But Jungkook had heard it.
Back in the car. His smirk, the way his eyes softened when she pouted. She shook her head, setting the cup down gently. She wouldn't fall again. She couldn't afford to. But maybe... maybe she could begin to watch.
Like Claire said.
Not with hope. But with care. Just then, a knock tapped at her door. "Come in."
A delivery boy walked in with a large bouquet — pale lavender roses and white lilies — rare, elegant and her favorite.
Her brows knit. "Who sent this?" she asked. "There's a card, Madame," the boy replied, bowing before exiting.
Taehyungie picked up the envelope and opened it carefully. Inside, in Jungkook's unmistakably neat handwriting:
'For the queen of Paris. Thank you for letting me ride you to work. — JK'
Her fingers tightened on the note. Her throat bobbed. She pressed the card to her chest, eyes closed.
It was just a flower. A thank you.
Nothing more.
And yet...
She couldn't stop the soft, reluctant smile that stole across her lips.
--
Jungkook stood in the center of the now-immaculate living room, a dish towel slung over his shoulder and sweat clinging lightly to his skin. The house smelled of lemon and lavender — fresh, clean, lived-in. Taehyungie's throw blankets had been neatly folded, the cushions fluffed, and the kitchen sparkled with unused calm.
And yet, even in the tidy perfection, the silence gnawed at him.
He missed them. With a glance at the clock — just minutes before school ended — he dropped the towel, grabbed his keys, and slipped on his coat, excitement fluttering in his chest like a teenager before a first date.
The drive to the school was a soft hum of city noise and nerves. Jungkook parked outside the gates and stepped out, instantly met by the shrieks and playful yells of children flooding the playground.
He walked through the gates, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes scanning—
"Daddyyyy!!!" Twin squeals pierced the air and before he could brace himself, two small bodies launched into him.
He caught them with a startled laugh, stumbling slightly from their impact. Their little arms clung to his neck, and their hair tickled his cheeks.
"It's only been a few hours," Jungkook chuckled breathlessly, hugging them back like it had been years.
"That's exactly why we missed you!" Taeri declared, pouty and fierce.
Taehyun nodded in agreement, snuggling his face into Jungkook's shoulder. "Too long."
Jungkook felt his heart bloom in his chest.
He straightened up with one arm around each child and noticed the way the other kids had stopped to stare. Curious eyes. Whispers. Blinking glances.
They had only known Taehyungie. The radiant, pretty woman who they often see on billboards.
And now here he stood. A stranger to them. But not to his kids.
"Is that... your dad?" one of the little girls asked Taeri timidly.
Taeri perked up proudly, stepping away from Jungkook and placing her tiny hands on her hips. "Yes! That's our daddy. He came to live with us from Korea."
Jungkook felt his chest tighten. She was proud. Of him.
He dropped to a knee and bowed dramatically, a hand on his heart. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you." The children erupted in giggles.
"He's so handsome!" one whispered with a grin. "I know," Taehyun added smugly. "That's why I'm handsome too. I look just like him!"
Taeri broke into a fit of laughter, gently smacking her brother's head. "You're so silly." But she was smiling. They both were.
Jungkook rose, still laughing, and reached for their bags. "Let's head home, my stars."
They waved goodbye to their friends and took each of his hands — one on each side — chattering excitedly about their day.
As soon as they were buckled into the backseat, Taeri demanded, "Can we have Disney songs, please?"
Jungkook grinned and without hesitation, tapped the screen. The first notes of "Let It Go" filled the car and the twins exploded into chorus, voices off-key but full of joy.
Jungkook drove with one hand on the wheel and the other drumming to the beat, eyes soft as he glanced at them through the rearview mirror.
Taehyun grabbed his sister's hand and raised it in the air mid-song. Taeri blushed and sang louder.
And as the chorus swelled and their voices rang through the car, Jungkook's smile deepened.
He was home. Not because of the penthouse. Not even Paris.
But because they loved him.
And he... oh, he had never stopped loving them.
--
Evening.
The apartment was quiet but alive.
Crayons clattered on the wooden table, little voices whispering as colors danced across their homework pages. Jungkook knelt beside the twins, his sleeves rolled up, his hand resting gently on Taehyun's back as he pointed out an alphabet.
"Remember, buddy... small 'R' is like a an 'I' but bent at the top"
Taehyun blinked, nodded slowly, then began to scribble again with newfound determination. Jungkook smiled softly, brushing a stray crayon aside.
Then the door clicked. Jungkook's head snapped up. The twins didn't hear it — too immersed in their drawings and whispered conversations — but he did.
Taehyungie stepped in slowly, her heels clicking softly against the marble. Her coat was still draped over her shoulders, her bag tugging at her arm. Her eyes were tired, lined with the weight of the day. Her makeup remained flawless, her jewelry delicate and poised, but her soul... her soul sagged with exhaustion.
Jungkook stood up instantly. "Here—let me—" he began, already moving toward her.
Taehyungie raised a hand. "I'm fine." But he didn't stop.
"I got it—" he reached again, voice gentle, concern etched into his brows.
"I said I'm fine!" she snapped, the words sharper this time, colder, a little too loud.
Though the twins didn't hear, Jungkook flinched. His hand dropped to his side. "Sorry," he whispered.
Taehyungie stood frozen for a heartbeat longer before the tension softened into guilt. She didn't get to say anything before two small bodies launched into her legs.
"Mommyyyyy!"
The children wrapped around her knees like vines, giggling and chatting in overlapping sentences. Her expression melted, a soft tired smile replacing the steel.
She bent down, pressing kisses to both their cheeks. "Did you eat?" she asked, brushing their hair away from their foreheads.
"We did," Jungkook answered gently from behind. "They had rice and soup. Taeri even had seconds."
Taehyungie didn't look at him. She only hummed, fingers still tangled in her daughter's hair.
"I'll go freshen up," she muttered and walked off without another word.
When she returned, the tension in her shoulders had lessened, but her body still drooped with fatigue. Her makeup was washed off, replaced with a clean face and a loose silk blouse. Her damp hair fell past her shoulders, clinging to her skin like moonlight.
The twins were now sprawled across the living room, happily coloring and pointing out shapes to each other.
Jungkook reappeared from the kitchen with a bowl and plate in his hands.
He placed the warm food on the dining table and stepped back quietly. Taehyungie paused, surprised.
Her gaze flickered from him to the food and back.
Jungkook didn't say anything, just smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. Then her stomach growled.
Loud enough to echo. A blush bloomed on her cheeks immediately, and she cleared her throat, annoyed more at herself than him.
"Thanks..." she muttered, barely audible, sliding into the seat. Jungkook nodded and drifted away, leaving her to eat.
But she noticed... he didn't go far.
He was with the twins, crouched beside them again, helping Taeri sharpen her pencil and wiping a smudge of crayon off Taehyun's cheek with his thumb.
It was domestic. It was dangerous. And she hated how good it looked.
Taehyungie kept her eyes on the food, eating slowly, carefully — trying not to groan at how delicious it was. The rice was seasoned perfectly, the meat soft and savory. It reminded her of old days, of midnight snacks he used to cook when they snuck out as teenagers.
When she finished, she rose and quietly brought the dish to the sink. Jungkook returned a moment later and blinked. "You should've called me," he said, reaching out.
Taehyungie's back stiffened. "It's my home," she said sharply, placing the dish under the running tap. Jungkook bit his lip. "Right. Of course."
But he couldn't stop looking at her. Even with dark circles under her eyes, even with fatigue soaking through her limbs — she was breathtaking. Regal. Unreachable.
Still, he tried. He cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Um... did you get the flowers?" he asked gently.
Taehyungie's hands paused under the water. Her heart thudded in her chest. She didn't look at him. "I threw them away."
Silence. A beat.
Jungkook swallowed hard, forcing a nod. "Right," he mumbled, voice quieter now. "Maybe... you didn't like the flowers I picked. It's okay. They were your favorite... back then."
She clenched the sponge tighter. "It wasn't necessary," she cut in, a little too fast, a little too tight. "But... thanks."
And then she was gone. She left him standing there, damp sponge dripping beside the sink, his fingers still curled from the invisible bouquet he no longer held.
What she didn't say... what he didn't know... was that the flowers hadn't been thrown away.
They were tucked into a crystal vase on the far corner of her office desk. Hidden behind the thick drapes when clients came in. To be watered every morning by her assistant without being asked. Preserved like a secret she wasn't ready to share.
Because no one needed to know. Especially not him.
--
The weekend sun was kind to Paris — warm, not scorching, with soft breezes that played with Taehyungie's dress as she sat in the passenger seat. The GPS spoke in French, clear and automated, while Jungkook's hands gripped the steering wheel just tight enough to show his nerves.
He glanced sideways. Taehyungie wore a pale floral dress that danced around her thighs and clung delicately to her curves. The neckline dipped just enough to tempt sin and memory alike — and Jungkook, for all his self-control, was failing miserably at pretending he wasn't affected. Every time he looked over, the sight burned itself deeper into his mind.
He cleared his throat and focused on the road. The twins were in the backseat, dressed in matching beige corduroy overalls and white tees, singing along to a song Jungkook had put on for them. Their excitement buzzed like static in the car.
"Are we there yet?" Taeri asked, peeking over his shoulder. "Almost," Taehyungie answered, reaching back to squeeze her daughter's knee.
Jungkook said nothing — because truly, he was too busy mentally rehearsing how to introduce himself to the legendary Claire Laurent. The Claire Laurent. The woman who made Taehyungie who she was. The woman who had probably heard enough stories to kill him and still smiled when she saw him in their home.
When the GPS announced arrival, Jungkook slowed to a halt.
The Laurent estate was... majestic. Massive wrought-iron gates slowly opened to reveal a private driveway flanked with manicured hedges and marble fountains. The mansion loomed ahead — cream stone, tall windows, and a grand staircase leading up to doors that belonged more to a palace than a home.
Jungkook parked under the canopy, stunned. Before the car even rolled to a full stop, the twins burst out of the back seat, yelling, "Godmotherrrr!"
Claire Laurent stood at the top of the steps, already waiting. The double doors had been opened by her servants the moment they saw the car.
She was draped in effortless elegance — cream slacks, a champagne blouse, and a strand of pearls like soft fire around her neck. Her hair was pulled back neatly, her lipstick a bold plum.
She knelt as the children ran up, her arms open wide. "You little devils," she teased, pressing a kiss to Taeri's hair and ruffling Taehyun's.
"Did you make cookies godmother?" Taeri's eyes shines in expectation. Claire laughs "Of course I made cookies. I'd be a bad godmother if I didn't."
The twins shrieked with joy and barreled inside, shouting something about "milk and sprinkles."
Taehyungie emerged next, graceful as ever, her heels clicking against stone as she walked up to Claire.
They embraced — a quiet, familiar kind of affection — and Claire pulled back, looking over her sunglasses.
"How's Maison Duval treating you this week, darling?"
"It's been fine," Taehyungie said, brushing hair from her cheek. "We wrapped the campaign early."
"And Jiminie?"
"Styling a model for Dior in the 8th arrondissement." "Good." Claire nodded. "Let her show those amateurs how it's done."
Behind them, Jungkook had finished parking the car and now stood awkwardly beside it. He hesitated only a moment before walking over, his hands slightly clenched at his sides. He wore a button-down and dark pants — formal, unsure. Prepared to drop the twins and leave quietly.
But Claire's gaze locked on him before he could say a word.
She tilted her head slightly, examining him like one of her expensive garments.
Jungkook bowed quickly. "Good afternoon, madam."
A beat passed.
Then Claire smiled — just barely — and replied, "ah! The father." Jungkook straightened slowly. "Yes, ma'am. Jeon Jungkook."
Taehyungie looked away, pretending she didn't hear, but her jaw tensed slightly. Claire's lips twitched with amusement. "Well. I can't say I remembered your face the way it is, but the jawline doesn't lie."
Jungkook stammered. "I—uh—thank you?"
She laughed — not cruelly, but with genuine delight, like he'd just passed the first test without knowing it. "I take it you're here to drop them off?"
He nodded. "Yes. And... Taehyungie. I thought I'd wait in the car—"
"Nonsense," Claire interrupted, waving a manicured hand. "You'll come inside. There are cookies, and milk. And I need to know more about my munchkins' previously absent father."
Jungkook's eyes widened a little, his breath catching. Her tone wasn't accusatory — it was curious, laced with sharp humor and veiled caution.
Taehyungie had already stepped inside, heels clicking faintly on the marble. Jungkook swallowed and smiled sadly. "Of course. I'd like that."
Claire raised an eyebrow, impressed by the softness in his voice.
"Well then," she said, turning on her heel. "Come in, Mr. Jeon. Let's see if you're worth the second chance you seem to be trying to earn."
And with that, she led him into her world.
The Laurent mansion smelled of vanilla and money — a clean, warm richness that seeped into the walls and gleamed off the polished floors. Servants moved like shadows, precise and silent, and Jungkook felt the weight of legacy in every corner.
Claire walked ahead of him with the ease of a queen in her court, and Jungkook followed with quiet awe, his eyes flicking over oil paintings, marble busts, and towering windows draped with silk.
The laughter of children rang from the kitchen.
"I let them steal chocolate chips before the dough sets," Claire murmured. "It's our little tradition."
Jungkook smiled faintly. She glanced back at him once, unreadable. "They love deeply. That's a trait from their mother."
He nodded, and for a moment, the hallway seemed too silent.
Claire finally stopped before a sunlit lounge, gesturing him inside. "Sit. I don't bite."
Jungkook lowered himself onto one of the velvet chairs, rigid-backed like he was in an interview.
Claire, meanwhile, poured herself tea from a silver service set and offered him a cup. He accepted it carefully, with a muttered thank you.
Taehyungie appeared moments later, having removed her heels. She padded into the lounge barefoot, hair loosened now, and gave Claire a small smile. "They're decorating cookies. With frosting. Lots of it."
Claire smirked. "They'll be wild in an hour."
Taehyungie chuckled softly and left without a glance. Claire didn't speak right away. Instead, she sipped her tea, eyes fixed on him like she was watching a slow-moving chessboard.
"You've caused her a lot of pain," she said finally. Jungkook didn't flinch. "I know."
"And yet, here you are. In my home. With my godchildren."
"I didn't come to make excuses," he said. "Just to be here. For them. And... for her, if she'll let me."
Claire hummed. "You've grown handsome. You were probably always attractive, but the years turned you into a man."
He said nothing.
She continued, "She doesn't trust easily. I taught her not to. The world took too much from her too young."
"I want to give it back," he said quietly.
"Even if she doesn't love you again?" He blinked, caught.
Claire leaned forward, her voice velvet but pointed. "Love is fragile. It's not enough. If you're here just for romance, Jungkook, then I'll ask you to leave. Because if you shatter her again, you'll leave me picking up pieces that took years to glue."
Jungkook's hands clenched around his tea. "I'm not here for that. I'm here... because I should've been. I regret not being there every day. I regret every tear she shed alone."
Claire studied him for a long time. Then, something softened — barely. "She kept the flowers," she said.
He looked up, startled. "They're in her office. Hidden. She waters them herself."
Jungkook felt something sharp catch in his throat. "She said she threw them away."
"She lies to protect herself." Claire smiled faintly. "Don't take it personally."
He looked down, quiet. "I won't."
Another pause. Then Claire stood. "Come see the children."
He rose quickly, placing his teacup down and bowing slightly again.
Claire chuckled. "You're much too formal. Loosen up. I'm not royalty"
As they walked toward the kitchen, Claire's expression changed — less sharp, more amused.
"You know," she said over her shoulder, "I never thought I'd see the father of these kids Taehyungie never spoke of"
Jungkook swallowed hard. She turned the corner, and the smell of sugar and cocoa wrapped around them.
Inside the bright, bustling kitchen, Taehyungie sat cross-legged on a stool, laughing as Taehyun smeared frosting on his nose and Taeri dropped sprinkles into her mouth instead of the cookies.
Jungkook stopped in the doorway, frozen. Taehyungie looked up at that moment, and their eyes met.
He smiled softly.
She looked away, cheeks flushed, and handed Taeri a napkin.
Claire didn't miss the look. Her eyes flicked between them like she was cataloging chemistry.
She leaned toward Jungkook and whispered, "Whatever you're doing, Mr. Jeon — do it carefully."
And then she breezed past him to kiss frosting off Taehyun's head, leaving him standing there, heart thudding, eyes glued to the family he never thought he'd be part of again.
--
The late afternoon sun dipped low, casting soft gold across the cobblestones as the mansion came alive with laughter and the scent of cooling cookies. Somewhere deep in the estate, the kitchen staff was boxing the sweets into elegant parchment-lined tins, tying them delicately with satin bows.
Claire's orders, of course — her godchildren were never to leave empty-handed.
Jungkook stepped away from the massive staircase to retrieve the car, hands slipping into his pockets as he hummed a faint tune under his breath. The hum was cut short when he heard the telltale patter of small feet and chaotic giggles bouncing against the stone walls.
The twins burst out first, energy bubbling over, cheeks pink and fingers still sticky with icing.
"Daddy!" Taeri shrieked, running full-speed toward him.
Taehyun was right behind, waving a small silver tin proudly. "Look what Godmother packed for us!"
Jungkook let out a soft snort, his heart rising with fondness. "You two are going to be bouncing off walls tonight."
Taeri grinned devilishly. "Not if you eat it too!"
She held up a star-shaped cookie with lopsided pink frosting, standing on her toes to reach him. "Say ah!"
Jungkook knelt slightly, amused. "Ahh—"
Before he could react, Taeri shoved the entire thing — frosting, crumbs, and her whole little fist — into his mouth with a triumphant squeal.
Jungkook choked out a muffled laugh, carefully removing her hand as he chewed the sugary, clumsily frosted mess. "Mmm... Delicious," he said around the mouthful.
Taeri beamed and clapped while Taehyun giggled so hard he nearly dropped his cookie tin.
Behind them, the heavy front doors opened with a low creak, and Claire appeared, poised and graceful as ever. Taehyungie walked beside her, a soft laugh escaping her lips at something Claire said. Her floral dress fluttered slightly in the breeze, hair half-loose and touched by the sun.
Jungkook straightened immediately at the sight of her.
She moved toward the car quickly, mother-mode taking over, opening the back door and helping the twins in with practiced care, wiping icing from Taehyun's face as he argued with Taeri over who got the bigger tin.
Claire's gaze found Jungkook then — the remnants of the cookie still on the corner of his lips, soft affection hidden behind unsure posture.
She gave a slow, approving nod.
Jungkook, startled by the silent gesture, smiled back and bowed slightly in response. It wasn't one of obligation, but gratitude.
A silent thank you.
Taehyungie slid into the passenger seat with a gentle sigh, strapping herself in as the twins yelled from the back, "Can we have another cookie? Just one? Pleaaaase?"
"We'll see," she replied with a tired chuckle, brushing her fingers over Taeri's knee.
Jungkook shut the driver's door just as Claire's figure disappeared inside the mansion, the heavy doors closing behind her.
Inside, as she walked back toward her study, Claire allowed herself a small smile.
She'd seen the look. In his eyes when Taehyungie wasn't looking.
It was still there — brittle and buried beneath years of hurt, but real.
She didn't believe in fairy tales. But love? Love deserved a second act.
And she had no doubt: Her darling girl would get her true love back.
The penthouse was warm.
Golden light poured through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the walls as the sugar-high finally began to crash. The twins had curled up in the living room — Taeri with her stuffed unicorn, Taehyun with a half-crushed cookie tin hugged to his chest — cartoons playing low on the TV.
Jungkook stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes fond.
"They didn't even make it halfway through the second episode," he murmured with a small chuckle.
Taehyungie entered the room from the hallway, her hair now down, face free of makeup, dressed in a loose beige sweater and black pants. Her earlier poise had softened, and something about her — in that quiet domestic air — made Jungkook's heart ache.
She sat on the arm of the couch near Taeri, gently brushing back a stray curl from her daughter's face. "They had too much sugar," she whispered.
Jungkook walked closer, voice just as low. "Miss Claire makes deadly cookies. Remind me to refuse next time."
"You know you won't refuse," Taehyungie said without looking at him.
There was no heat in it — just dry amusement. He grinned sheepishly, eyes crinkling. "I was ambushed."
Taehyungie stood slowly, tucking a blanket over her kids. " But you enjoyed it."
She didn't say it accusingly. More... knowingly. He didn't deny it.
Instead, silence stretched — not heavy, not cold. Just something that existed between two people who had once shared everything, and now... didn't quite know what to do with the fragments.
"Want some tea?" Jungkook offered quietly. "Chamomile. I think we still have the one Jinnie packed."
Taehyungie hesitated.
Then nodded.
The kitchen was dimly lit as he moved to prepare it, his motions careful. The kettle hissed softly. Behind him, Taehyungie hovered near the counter, arms crossed but relaxed.
Jungkook smiled faintly as he poured the hot water into two mugs. Taehyungie took the mug from Jungkook's hand carefully, her slender fingers brushing against his just slightly. The warmth of the ceramic seeped into her palms, but it was nothing compared to the silent warmth flooding her chest. She didn't look at him, not immediately—her gaze remained on the tea's amber surface, as if searching for answers in its stillness.
Jungkook stood close, too close.
"Thank you," she murmured at last, her voice crisp but softer than usual—like frost thawing in the early light.
He nodded, leaning against the kitchen island with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her sip the tea slowly. She drank with poise, but he noticed the tremor in her fingers.
"I know it doesn't mean much," Jungkook said quietly, voice low and cautious, "but... I've been trying to do everything right. For them. For you."
Taehyungie's grip on the mug tightened. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
"It's not about doing everything right," she said after a pause, setting the mug down gently. "I know," he whispered.
His voice was so tender "I know," he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "But I still want to try. I want to... I want to earn the right to stand beside you again, even if it takes the rest of my life."
Taehyungie's eyes slowly lifted to his. And for a second—just a second—Jungkook could see the sheen of tears threatening to spill. But she blinked them back.
The silence hung between them like a thread of gold, delicate and heavy.
Taehyungie looked down at the tea, steam curling into the morning light, and exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
The soft hum of the vacuum cleaner filled the penthouse, weaving through sunlit corridors as Taehyungie guided it across the living room rug. Dressed in a loose lavender tee and soft grey shorts, her hair up in a messy clip, she looked every bit the queen of her castle—even when cleaning.
The sun bled gently through the tall windows, drenching the apartment in golden light. She moved with purpose, humming faintly to herself.
A sleepy yawn echoed from the hallway. "Good morning, mama..." Taeri mumbled, rubbing her eyes, her messy hair a cloud around her face.
"Morning, baby," Taehyungie whispered, smiling as she turned the vacuum off. Taehyun toddled in next, clutching his plush bunny. "Is it school today?"
"No, it's Sunday," Taehyungie replied with a giggle, kissing both their heads. "Go wake your daddy, hmm?"
The twins lit up with mischief.
In the guest room, Jungkook lay sprawled across the bed, his face half-buried in a pillow, soft snores escaping.
"Daddyyyy," Taeri cooed.
Taehyun climbed onto the bed and tugged at his arm. "Wake up! Wake up!"
"Ugh—five more minutes..." Jungkook grumbled, cracking one sleepy eye open as his kids climbed over him like a jungle gym.
And then—
The doorbell rang.
Taehyungie furrowed her brows, placing the vacuum against the wall. She padded barefoot to the door and pulled it open—
"Jiminie?!" The name escaped her in a delighted squeal. Jiminie stood there, pink-tinted sunglasses in her hair, arms open wide.
Taehyungie flung herself into her best friend's embrace. "I missed you so much!"
"You vacuum on Sunday mornings now?" Jiminie teased, hugging her tight. "What have those twins done to you?"
"Shut up," Taehyungie pouted. "You have no idea. Come in—come in!"
Behind her, Yoongi appeared, hands in his coat pockets, eyes sleepy but warm.
"Yoongi-oppa!" Taehyungie beamed, moving to wrap her arms around him. "You didn't even call to say you'd visit!"
He smiled faintly as he hugged her back. "You seemed busy ruling Paris."
"Excuses," she tsked. "And the twins missed you."
"Did they now?" Yoongi muttered—but his expression softened.
Just then—
Thudding feet echoed as the twins dragged a half-asleep Jungkook into the living room. He wore a crumpled white tee and grey sweatpants, his hair a mess and one eye barely open.
"Auntie Jimin!!! Uncle Yoongi!!!" the twins cried in unison.
Jiminie squatted to their level, immediately smothering them in kisses and compliments. "Have you gotten taller since I last saw you? And more handsome?!"
"Obviously," Taehyun deadpanned, flipping his bangs. Jiminie burst into laughter.
But Jungkook—he'd frozen mid-step.
His eyes locked onto Yoongi.
Blinking. Then widening.
Something cold slid through his chest. His best friend stood there, inside this home, greeting his children like it was nothing. His eyes snapped back to the twins, then to Taehyungie—and realization crashed into him like a wave.
Yoongi knew.
He'd known everything. About the twins. About Taehyungie. Jungkook's mouth parted slightly, eyes dark with confusion, disbelief, and quiet betrayal.
Yoongi, for all his stoic charm, gave an awkward half-smile.
Before he could speak, the twins tugged him inside, chattering about cookies and drawings. Taehyungie, too focused on hosting, didn't notice the shift.
Jungkook looked away, swallowing the tight knot in his throat. "Good... good morning," he mumbled.
"Morning," Yoongi replied quietly, avoiding his eyes. But it wasn't quiet for long.
Jiminie had settled on the couch beside Taehyungie, who passed her a warm cup of tea.
Jiminie's eyes didn't leave hers. She glanced at Jungkook, then back at her best friend.
Taehyungie sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Don't look at me like that, you knew he will be visiting the kids" she said gently.
Jiminie didn't respond. Her lips pursed, gaze flicking to Jungkook's quiet form as he stood near the windows, half in the shadows.
It was going to be a long Sunday.
--
Taehyungie and Jiminie sat cross-legged on the living room couch, the remnants of their laughter still fresh in the air as they caught up on everything that had happened while Jiminie was gone.
"I swear, the interns at Maison Duval aged me ," Taehyungie whined dramatically, rubbing her temple.
Jiminie laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Poor baby. I leave you for a month and all hell breaks loose?"
"You're my human diary, what did you expect?" Taehyungie grumbled, leaning into her shoulder.
Across the room, the twins were sitting on the carpet in their bunny-print pajamas, proudly waving colorful drawings in front of Yoongi.
"Look, Uncle Yoongi! That's us and mama and daddy at the zoo!" Taeri announced, thrusting the page forward.
Yoongi's lips quirked upward despite himself. He crouched to their level, accepting the crayon-streaked paper. "You made this?"
"We both did!" Taehyun beamed, "But I drew the lion!"
Yoongi raised an impressed brow. "That's the scariest lion I've ever seen." They giggled proudly. But Yoongi felt it—that quiet stare brushing his skin like a feather.
He didn't look up.
Jungkook quietly reached down, lifting the vacuum with practiced ease. Without a word, he walked past them, his presence almost a shadow in the room. He returned it to the storage closet, then moved into the kitchen, sleeves rolled, hands moving over the stove with quiet efficiency.
Jiminie noticed the scene unfold and paused. Her heart tugged despite the sharp edge still sitting in her chest. She didn't forgive him—not fully—but there was a sincerity in the way he moved now. Soft. Gentle. Subdued.
Taehyungie didn't seem to notice. She was still animated, sighing about the nerve of a designer who had tried to overwrite her schedule. "I nearly threw my shoe at him, Jiminie. My Chanel!"
Jiminie snorted. They both giggled like teenagers again.
From the kitchen, the soft clinking of plates and the smell of something warm and buttery filled the air.
Moments later, Jungkook returned quietly, crouching beside the twins. "Come on, time to brush."
"Again?" Taehyun groaned. "We brushed yesterday!"
"That's not how it works, buddy," Jungkook chuckled, lifting him gently and then hoisting Taeri with his other arm.
He walked them down the hallway, not once looking in Yoongi's direction.
Back in the kitchen, the plates were now neatly arranged with toast, eggs, and fruit. When Jungkook returned with the now freshly scrubbed kids, he helped them up on their stools and handed them spoons and tiny forks. The twins immediately dug in, chattering amongst themselves.
Jungkook hesitated behind them, then walked over to Taehyungie. He leaned in slightly, his voice quiet, cautious. "Breakfast is ready. The kids are already eating."
Taehyungie blinked, lips parting slightly. She met his eyes for the briefest second—then looked away, nodding.
"Jiminie. Yoongi- oppa," she said, pulling herself to her feet, "let's go eat before the twins steal all the strawberries again."
The five of them gathered around the breakfast table. The tension simmered quietly like a second meal being cooked beside the first. No raised voices. No fights. Just carefully picked words, glances that avoided too much weight.
Taeri squealed about how much she loved the butter toast. Taehyun tried to feed Yoongi a grape with sticky fingers.
No one said what needed to be said. After the kids had eaten their fill, Jungkook gently lifted them both again and whispered, "Bath time."
Their giggles trailed down the hallway as he left, the door softly clicking shut behind them.
Left alone, Taehyungie rose wordlessly, beginning to gather the plates.
Jiminie stood too, grabbing cutlery and napkins. "He made all this?" she asked, not looking up.
Taehyungie nodded slowly. "He's been doing it every day."
Jiminie scrubbed a plate and passed it over. "I mean... he's trying. Can't deny that."
Taehyungie paused, her lips twitching faintly. "He has to earn it."
Jiminie nodded solemnly, glancing toward the hallway. "...And what if he does?"
Taehyungie's gaze lingered on the clean dishes, on the flowers blooming on the table, on the sound of their children's laughter in the distance.
Then she answered, barely a whisper—
"Then maybe I'll try too."
The sun had dipped higher in the sky, casting a warm glow across Paris. The kids were watching spongebob, Jiminie and Taehyungie curled up on the couch, sharing whispered stories between sips of tea. The penthouse was quiet—at least on the surface.
Jungkook stood outside on the balcony, hands gripping the railing, staring out at the city. The wind tousled his hair, but his face remained still, jaw tight, thoughts storming behind his eyes.
The glass door slid open with a soft click. Yoongi stepped out, slowly.
He stood beside him, close but not too close. Like old times. They said nothing for a while.
Just the sound of traffic, distant birds, and the ache of unspoken words between them.
"...You knew," Jungkook finally said, his voice low. Yoongi closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah."
Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "You knew all along. You knew she was in Paris. You knew I had kids. You knew and said nothing."
Yoongi didn't flinch. "I did."
"Why?" Jungkook asked, finally turning to face him. "Why would you keep that from me, hyung?"
Yoongi met his eyes—quiet, unwavering. "Because you were a coward."
The words hit Jungkook like a slap.
Yoongi continued. "You were a mess back then. Arrogant. Angry. Prideful. Running from everything, including her."
Jungkook opened his mouth—but nothing came out. Yoongi said, voice calmer now. "I saw what it did to her when you denied her. And when I found out she was pregnant, Jiminie warned me not to tell you. She didn't want you to come back out of pain, anger and despite."
Jungkook's throat tightened. "And all these years?"
"I kept my promise," Yoongi said. "I watched her raise your children. I watched her rebuild herself from the ground up."
Jungkook turned away again, heart clenching.
"She loved you, you know," Yoongi added, voice softer. Jungkook bit his lip, struggling to keep his composure. "I didn't mean to hurt her."
"I know."
"But I did. I destroyed her."
Yoongi sighed. "She was strong enough to survive it. That doesn't mean it didn't scar her."
They fell into silence again, the wind brushing past them. Yoongi looked through the glass at the twins curled against each other on the couch. "Those kids adore you. I see it. They talk about you like you hang the moon."
Jungkook's eyes welled up before he quickly blinked it away. "They don't know the pain," Yoongi said. "They just know you're here now. Don't mess that up."
Jungkook swallowed hard, nodding slowly.
Yoongi glanced sideways at him. "You're trying, I can see that. But don't just fight for the kids, Jungkook. If you want her back... you'll have to earn every piece of her again. Not with words. With your life."
Jungkook looked back at the window where Taehyungie now sat upright, Jimin resting against her shoulder, both of them glowing in the afternoon light.
"I am," he whispered. "I swear, I am." Yoongi gave a small nod, stepping back toward the door. "Good. Because if you break her again..."
Jungkook looked at him. Yoongi's voice dropped, darker. "I won't forgive you."
And then, just like that, Yoongi slid the door open and stepped inside, leaving Jungkook alone with the wind and the weight of everything he had to make right.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 30: A step forward?
Chapter Text
Three Weeks Later
Life had settled into a rhythm that felt... dangerously beautiful. Jungkook couldn't recall the last time he felt this full. Not with power. Not with success. But with life.
Wake up. Help the twins get ready. Try to convince Taehyungie to let him drive her to work. Pack lunch boxes—three now—because she'd once mentioned, without thought, that she just ordered takeout. From then on, he added hers with care, writing little labels in Hangul on each one.
Sometimes he cleaned while she rushed to get ready, sometimes he sat on the couch and watched quietly as she moved like wind through the penthouse, commanding with that quiet fire he loved too much.
Today was no different.
He'd just dropped the kids off, kissed their foreheads, and returned to the penthouse.
The familiar sound greeted him: heels clicking, Taehyungie talking into her phone, already issuing last-minute instructions while juggling her handbag and tablet.
She looked immaculate as always—floral blouse tucked into high-waisted slacks, her hair pinned just enough to hint at elegance while still wild.
Jungkook stepped forward, grabbing her lunch box from the counter.
"You'll forget it again," he said softly.
Taehyungie turned slightly, pausing mid-call, offering him a short nod. "Thanks," she mouthed before resuming. "No, push that meeting to two—yes. If we rush it, the sketches will look like trash, I'm not approving that."
He opened the door for her.
She walked past him, still typing with her thumbs, entering the elevator. He followed.
He opened the car door. She slipped inside without breaking rhythm, finishing her call and then pulling out her tablet, scrolling quickly, lips pursed.
Jungkook settled into the driver's seat and started the engine. The car purred to life.
His eyes glanced toward her. She looked beautiful today.
Like always.
But lately, something in her had softened. Like petals unfolding again after seasons of frost.
He wanted more. He wanted... her.
"...Taehyungie?" he asked carefully, eyes on the road.
"Hm?"
"Would you like to go out... this Friday?" She turned to him, confused. "Out?"
"Yeah. Like... just us."
Her fingers stilled on the tablet. Jungkook caught the subtle shift of her body—how she tensed slightly.
"Yoongi said he'll babysit," he added quickly, almost tripping over the words. "So the kids are fine and—"
Taehyungie bit her lip. Looked out the window.
The car fell into a thick silence, only the soft sound of the engine filling the space.
Jungkook wanted to rewind the words. Pull them back. Pretend he never asked.
They reached her company building. The guards bowed and opened the car door.
She stepped out, back straight, heels clicking on marble.
Jungkook reached into the back and gently pulled out the lunchbox. "You forgot this," he said softly, offering it.
Taehyung took it wordlessly. She didn't meet his gaze.
And then she walked away, heading into her palace—where she ruled, where she belonged.
The car door shut. Jungkook exhaled shakily.
Then without thinking, he dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel with a dull thud.
"You absolute idiot," he muttered.
Another thud.
Groan.
"Why did you say that, why did you—"
He grumbled for a full twenty minutes, forehead pressed against the leather, drowning in his own embarrassment. He hadn't asked anyone out in years.
Then—
Ding.
His phone buzzed in the cup holder.
He blinked and reached for it, expecting maybe a message from Hoseok or Yoongi.
🌸 My Spring 🌸
He froze.
[Text Message – My Spring] Okay.
Just that.
A single word.
A word that knocked the breath from his lungs. A grin tugged at his lips, slow and boyish and full of stunned disbelief.
He read it again. And again.
Okay.
His heart fluttered, giddy like he was young again, palms sweaty and hope-struck. A giggle—an actual giggle—escaped his throat before he could help it. His cheeks flushed, and he pressed a palm to his face, hiding from no one.
"She said okay," he whispered.
He stared at the message once more, that one little word shining like sunlight through storm clouds.
He started the car again, heart fluttering like a fool, and pulled out of the driveway—wearing the shyest smile he'd worn in years.
The glass doors of Maison Duval parted with their signature whisper, and Taehyungie stepped in like a queen returning to her court.
Her heels echoed sharply across the marble floor, each step deliberate, her expression unreadable. Staff bowed, heads dipped as she passed—but inside, her thoughts weren't on business or designs.
They were still stuck in that car. "Just the two of us."
Jungkook's words clung to her ears like a whispered secret, making her heartbeat do stupid, fluttery things no Director should allow.
She kept her gaze ahead, chin high, but her skin betrayed her—heat had begun to bloom across her cheeks.
The elevator opened. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the top floor.
The doors closed.
Her composure cracked ever so slightly.
By the time she reached her office, her strides had returned to confident, but her chest felt oddly light. The door swung open and—
The flowers.
The sunlight brushing their petals like a lover's caress. The same flowers he'd given her weeks ago—flowers she couldn't bring herself to throw away.
She blinked once, as if startled to still see them there.
"Someone's glowing today."
Jiminie's voice broke through.
Taehyungie startled slightly, head whipping toward her best friend who stood near the desk, arms crossed, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
"I—I'm not glowing," Taehyungie said, perhaps too fast. "It's just the sun."
Jiminie raised a brow. "The sun... made your cheeks look like strawberries?"
Taehyungie spun on her heel and rushed toward the mirror panel behind her desk. Her eyes widened.
Her cheeks were pink. No, not pink—blossoming.
Her hands flew up to her face as if to hide the evidence. "Aish..."
Jiminie laughed, the sound warm and teasing as she walked around the desk. "Are you blushing, Miss Kim? In Maison Duval? The high court of elegance?"
"I said it's the sun," Taehyungie muttered again, turning and plopping onto her swivel chair.
She rolled back slightly and picked up her phone.
'Would you like to go out this Friday... just the two of us?'
Her thumb hovered. Her stomach flipped.
Her heart—it was doing ridiculous somersaults and pulsing like a teenager's.
She bit her lip.
You told yourself to give him a chance, didn't you? It doesn't have to mean anything, a voice inside whispered. It's just an outing. A moment.
Taehyungie's fingers moved before her mind could stop them.
'Okay.'
She stared at the word for two seconds too long. Then, with a sharp breath, she locked her phone and tossed it onto her desk like it burned.
Her eyes locked with Jiminie's—still standing there, still smirking.
Taehyungie blinked, startled again. A quiet, "What?" slipped out, flustered.
Jiminie's smile deepened, eyes nearly disappearing into happy crescents. She hummed a soft "Nothing~" and turned on her heel, sauntering toward the door.
She paused, looked over her shoulder, her smirk widening.
"Yah—"
Jiminie disappeared with a laugh before Taehyungie could chase her out with a shoe.
The office grew still again. Taehyungie inhaled.
Her phone buzzed. She snatched it up instinctively—Jungkook had seen the message.
Her eyes fluttered shut, breath catching.
It was just a word. Just a text.
So why did it feel like she'd just thrown open a door inside her?
With trembling fingers, she placed the phone back on the desk and leaned back into her chair, resting her head gently against the leather.
She exhaled slowly.
Her pulse was still dancing in her wrists.
--
The Jeon estate was still cloaked in its morning hush—an elegant kind of silence wrapped in marble and oil paintings, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city struggling to wake up past the private hills of their gated home.
Sunlight filtered through the tall, mullioned windows of the breakfast room, catching on the crystal chandelier above and turning the hand-painted china a shade warmer than porcelain allowed. It was the kind of home where the scent of imported roses from the garden met you at the door, and every tablecloth had been ironed to perfection by hands you never saw but always felt.
Mrs. Jeon sat in her place by the long mahogany dining table, a silk robe flowing like moonlight across her lap, her hair swept into a neat chignon with only a single strand betraying her soft age. She ate quietly, her utensils barely making a sound, her gaze distant, occasionally pausing to sip from her bone china teacup—a custom blend from their private reserve in Darjeeling.
Across from her, Chairman Jeon read the day's papers, brow furrowed behind gold-rimmed glasses, lips drawn thin as he flipped past the business headlines he'd memorized before sunrise.
A maid set a fresh bowl of fruit between them and quickly bowed before disappearing like mist. None of the staff lingered long in this room anymore.
The tension had a shape now—something you could almost see. It hung in the corners like an old family portrait no one dared take down.
Chairman Jeon sighed heavily and set the paper aside with a rustle. He reached for a slice of toast, buttered it with stiff, efficient strokes, and then leaned back with a scowl deepening the grooves around his mouth.
"I still haven't heard from Chairman Choi," he muttered, shaking his head as he brought the toast to his mouth. "Not a single call since his daughter's drama. He's embarrassed, no doubt. But I've told him—whatever it takes, this marriage will happen. Jungkook will marry Seoyoon. I don't care how long it takes or how stubborn he insists on being."
Mrs. Jeon didn't respond at first. She continued slicing her poached pear with practiced grace, though the silver knife stilled for a fraction of a second mid-cut. Her eyes remained lowered, lashes casting soft shadows beneath them.
Chairman Jeon exhaled again, louder this time. "That boy is being blinded by a childhood obsession. That's all it is. A reckless infatuation. And for what? A girl who doesn't give two damns about him anymore. He follows her like a lost dog, and she slams the door every time. Pathetic."
The knife clinked against the plate now.
Mrs. Jeon finally looked up.
There was no dramatic pause, no anger flaring in her voice. Just a chill subtle enough to freeze over warm tea.
"Before you push our son around like another one of your acquisitions," she said calmly, "have you tried—just once—to understand why he doesn't want to marry Seoyoon?"
Chairman Jeon blinked at her, surprised by the interruption.
But she wasn't finished.
"Do you remember how he used to look at Taehyungie?" she asked, using the affectionate suffix she hadn't uttered in years. "Do you remember how he would bring her to the house every weekend? How he followed her around like a shadow, even though he was two years older? Do you remember the way he smiled back then?"
She shook her head slowly, the disappointment in her voice unmistakable. "I do. I remember."
The clink of dishes and quiet sweeping in the adjacent hall suddenly stopped. The maids were listening—and rushing to finish.
Chairman Jeon set his toast down with a grimace. "He was a child, Yeona," he said, calling her by name for the first time in the conversation. "He didn't know what real love was. Children fall. Children get hurt. It's normal. But that doesn't mean we let them ruin their lives over it. The universe separated them. That girl left and didn't come back. She ran off, started her own life, and now she's—"
"A mother," Mrs. Jeon said softly.
"And Jungkook is still in love with her," she continued, her voice cracking just faintly. "Through the years. Through the silence. Through every woman you tried to place in front of him. He only wanted her."
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a quiet, bitter chuckle.
"That's your solution, isn't it?" she whispered. "Just push him into a marriage and hope he falls in love with her later? As if love is an afterthought. As if you can plan a heart into submission like one of your expansion deals."
"Don't be dramatic, Yeona," he muttered, suddenly defensive.
"Dramatic?" Her voice lifted—not in volume, but in weight. "You're the one willing to barter your son's happiness to appease another chairman's ego."
She set her spoon down gently and folded her hands. Her tone now was colder than any scolding.
"Let me be very clear, Sangwoo," she said. "You can build empires. You can buy stocks and silence and reputation. But you cannot force a heart to forget what it remembers."
Chairman Jeon leaned back slowly, the words settling between them like smoke.
The maids were gone now. Even the guards outside were pretending not to exist.
Mrs. Jeon stood.
She reached for her shawl, draped it neatly over her arm, and cast him a last glance.
"If Jungkook is chasing a love from childhood," she said, "it's only because you taught him to run from everything else."
And with that, she left the breakfast room—her footsteps soft, but the silence she left behind, deafening. The air, once filled with idle complaints and the aroma of roasted coffee, now sat stale—tainted by the bitter aftertaste of truth.
Chairman Jeon remained seated, fingers tapping his thigh as if trying to deny the echo of her words.
A mother.
Those two syllables rang through him again, not with logic but like thunder—disruptive and uninvited.
Taehyungie... a mother?
His fork slipped from his hand, clattering against the empty plate. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the polished marble. He left the table without folding his napkin.
Drawn by a strange magnetic pull, he followed the hallways of his home—halls he'd walked countless times, yet now each step felt unsure. The house, once silent, whispered fragments of Yeona's voice: "You cannot force a heart to forget what it remembers."
The tall glass doors to her private lounge were slightly ajar. The wind that filtered through the terrace swept soft curtains against the white marble, casting gentle movements in the golden morning light.
And there she sat.
Yeona. His wife. His anchor of thirty- three years. Draped across a cream settee, the sun catching in her greying hair, her shawl loosely resting on her shoulders. The breeze toyed with her hair gently, brushing it against her cheek like the hand of time itself.
She did not turn to look at him, though she heard him approach. Her gaze remained fixed on the view outside—the stretching gardens, the white sky.
Chairman Jeon stood near the threshold, hesitant. Then, clearing his throat, he finally asked:
"Yeona..."
He paused. "What you said back there... about Taehyungie being a mother—did you... was that a mistake?"
Yeona let out a soft scoff. Not a laugh of amusement, but one that cracked with years of holding in truths, of watching a husband lead with power while leaving compassion behind.
She turned her face slowly and looked at him directly, her eyes sharp, tear-glassed and unyielding.
"A mistake?" she echoed, almost as if it hurt to repeat. "You think I made a mistake?"
Chairman Jeon blinked, unsure.
Yeona exhaled sharply. "No, Sangwoo. You made the mistake. And Jungkook... followed it."
He frowned, confusion etched in his expression, but didn't speak.
She turned toward him fully now, sitting up. Her voice was calm—but it trembled at the edges, like a dam seconds from breaking.
"Do you want to know how Taehyungie became a mother?" she asked softly, venomously. "Your perfect son—your heir, your cold-blooded, ambition-drenched son—got her pregnant."
A breath caught in his throat. "What...?"
"Because of a stupid game," she continued, each word landing like a strike. "A truth or dare in high school. That's what it was. A joke. A dare. That night... he spent it with her, knowing she still loved him."
Chairman Jeon's face fell, drained of color.
Yeona shook her head, bitterly laughing through her tears. "She was just seventeen, Sangwoo. And your son—your golden boy—left her shattered. Again. Just like he did when she was thirteen. First he broke her heart, and then he abandoned her with a child. He told her he didn't want the baby."
Chairman Jeon stumbled back a step, as if the air itself turned violent. "What?" he whispered. "No... Jungkook... he... I..."
"No, you didn't know," Yeona snapped. "Because you were too busy grooming him for succession to see your own child was falling apart! He became a ghost in our home, remember? That cold, ruthless teen who no longer laughed, who no longer smiled? You thought it was discipline. It was grief. Guilt. And you—" she pointed at him now, shaking, "—you never once asked him why."
Chairman Jeon fell quiet, the weight of her words crashing down like waves against a brittle shore.
"And Taehyungie?" Yeona's voice lowered, cracked. "She disappeared. Alone. Pregnant. Heartbroken. She built a life without us. Without him. And now she's back... but she's not the sweet, bubbly girl we used to know. That girl died, Sangwoo. She's cold. She's distant. And who could blame her?"
Yeona hiccupped, her shoulders trembling as the tears broke through. "She's unforgiving. Because your son gave her every reason to be."
Silence fell again—long, suffocating, except for the wind whispering through the open windows and the quiet sound of her sobbing.
"And now," she whispered through tears, voice soaked in something that sounded like heartbreak, "now he wants her back. He's desperate to show her the love he buried under fear and pride. And it's hard, Sangwoo. Because Taehyungie doesn't even blink."
Her hands reached for a nearby silk handkerchief as she sniffled, wiping the corners of her eyes.
"They have two children," she whispered. "Twins."
Chairman Jeon stiffened. She looked up at him, eyes bloodshot, but shining with a mother's love.
"Two beautiful grandkids. A boy and a girl. They look just like him."
Chairman Jeon's mouth parted. He said nothing. His legs gave slightly, and he sank onto the armrest across from her like a man aged by minutes. The weight of Yeona's words didn't settle like a boulder—it spilled like water into every crack of his being, filling every forgotten memory, every overlooked glance, every moment he failed to notice the storm brewing in his own son.
He blinked slowly, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.
"...So that's why," he whispered, his voice raw with dawning realization. "That's why Jungkook left the company... handed everything over to Hoseok without a single explanation."
Yeona's lips curved into a faint, wistful smile. "Yes," she said, her voice calm now, like the tide retreating after a storm. "He left for Paris. He's trying to make things right."
Chairman Jeon closed his eyes briefly, dragging a hand down his face. The silence between them was no longer tense—it was the kind that came with truth, unbearable but necessary.
Yeona turned her head toward the open terrace, letting the wind lift a few strands of her hair. "I have faith in him," she said softly. "He's still our son. He's flawed, yes. He made terrible mistakes, but... he's trying. Really trying."
Chairman Jeon turned his gaze to her, something trembling behind his normally stern eyes. "Do you think..." He hesitated, then spoke more firmly. "Do you think it would be possible—for us to visit? To go to Paris?"
Yeona's brows lifted, and for a moment she just looked at him—really looked. Her husband, proud, cold, always calculating and commanding. But here he was... speaking not as a chairman, not as the family patriarch, but as a man—an aging father who had missed the most important years of his son's life.
She nodded gently. "When the coast is clear," she said, her voice like balm. "When it won't stir the waters."
Chairman Jeon leaned back, his hands clasped, his eyes misty with something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in decades. Regret.
He let out a sigh so heavy it seemed to deflate his very posture. "Taehyungie..." he murmured, shaking his head. "She stood through all of it. Raised two children on her own. Built a name, a world far from all of us. And now... she still stands. Stronger than before."
Yeona smiled—proud, warm, and glistening with unshed tears. "She is everything I hoped she would become," she said. "Resilient. Fierce. Loving. I'm proud of her."
Chairman Jeon's eyes clouded further. "And I—" his voice cracked. "I didn't even recognize her when she came to the boardroom. I looked at her and saw a stranger. When she spoke, I thought i had seen her somewhere, but I never reached out to ask. I didn't see the pain. I didn't see the girl Jungkook used to bring to our doorstep every summer."
Yeona looked down, her smile dimming but still present. "She was never a stranger, Sangwoo. You just stopped looking."
They both fell silent again, the lounge now blanketed in the soft hum of the wind outside and the faint sounds of the distant city below.
He reached for her hand—slow, hesitant, like a man unsure if he deserved even the small comfort. Yeona allowed it, their fingers clasping with the familiarity of a lifetime, despite the cracks.
And there they sat.
The chairman of one of the most powerful conglomerates in Korea, grieving the weight of all he failed to see... and beside him, the woman who carried their family's emotional core, her heart quietly fluttering with the kind of hope only a mother could hold on to.
One broken by guilt.
The other lifted by faith.
And in the space between them, the name Taehyungie hung—no longer just a girl from the past, but a force in the present, reshaping the course of everything they thought they knew.
--
The heavy glass door to Taehyungie's office swung open with a low hiss, the kind only luxury hydraulic hinges could make. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she stepped inside, her stride graceful and composed as always — but Jiminie wasn't fooled.
Trailing behind her like a storm on her heels, Jiminie let the door close before letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.
"Okay?!" she blurted, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You have been weird today!"
Taehyungie didn't answer. She simply walked across the grand space, past the minimalist cream couches and towering windows that overlooked the Paris skyline, heading straight for her desk.
"I mean, seriously, Tae," Jiminie continued, throwing her bag onto the guest chair. "I thought it was something serious — maybe the kids or something back at the villa — but you were totally off during that meeting. Like, zoning out, touching your chest every five minutes like you were catching a heart attack. What the fuck is going on with you?"
Taehyungie let out a soft groan, shoulders tense as she sank into her white leather swivel chair. She grabbed her customized Stanley cup — the one the twins decorated with stickers and rhinestones and took a long sip of cold water.
Behind her desk, Jiminie folded her arms and started tapping one foot, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of her best friend's face.
"Don't look at me like that," Taehyungie muttered, cheeks already heating.
"I'll stop when you start talking," Jiminie fired back, moving around the desk until they were face-to-face, only the sleek table separating them. "Spill."
Taehyungie met her gaze for a second — and then looked away.
Jiminie's eyes narrowed. "Tae."
Taehyungie let out a long sigh and leaned back, resting her cup down with a quiet clink. She tilted her head toward the ceiling for a second like she was trying to summon the strength of every goddess in the cosmos.
Finally, with a defeated breath, she said flatly: "Jungkook asked me out."
Silence.
Dead, stunned silence.
Jiminie's jaw dropped, and she sat down very slowly on the chair in front of Taehyungie's desk like her knees had stopped working.
"what?"
Taehyungie rolled her eyes and looked off to the side. "You heard me."
Jiminie blinked. "A date?! Jungkook asked you on a date?!" Her voice pitched up like she'd just been told aliens landed in the lobby.
"Damn," she said dramatically, leaning back in the chair. "Dude is fast."
Taehyungie's eyes widened. "It's not like that!"
"Oh please," Jiminie scoffed, tossing her perfectly curled bangs. "You've been all blushy since this morning! I thought you had a fever."
"I was not blushy," Taehyungie squeaked defensively, her cheeks now a full shade of cherry blossom pink.
"You totally were." Jiminie smirked, then softened. "So... what did you say?"
Taehyungie fiddled with the cap of her water bottle, lips twisting. "I texted an okay."
The air shifted.
Jiminie stilled, and the teasing left her face. She looked at her best friend — truly looked — and a slow, sad smile tugged at her lips.
"You haven't forgiven him," she said quietly. "Not really. But... I'm glad you're letting yourself feel again. Even if it's just a little."
Taehyungie's eyes dropped to her lap. "I'm still cold," she whispered.
Jiminie chuckled softly. "Yeah, but you still accepted."
Taehyungie cracked a small, breathy laugh.
"I hate how fast it's going," she admitted suddenly, voice tight. "I hate how everything starts rushing back the moment he looks at me like that. Like we're teenagers again. Like no time has passed and nothing ever broke. Like I'm on autopilot, and the second I let go of the brakes, I'm just... flying toward something I'm not sure I'm ready for."
Jiminie reached across the desk, took her hand, and gave it a firm squeeze. "No, no, no. Don't do that," she said, her voice serious now. "It's okay to be scared. But you've come so far, Tae. And I've seen Jungkook has changed too. I still kind of hate his guts, don't get me wrong," she added with a roll of her eyes, "but I want you to be happy. Even if it's with that stubborn idiot and you're not flying alone. And you're not falling. You're stepping. And maybe he doesn't deserve it yet—but letting yourself feel again doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're healing."
Taehyungie snorted. "I don't think we'll ever be together," she said, staring at their hands. "I don't think I'll ever... truly forgive him." She bit her lip, "I just... don't want to forget what he did. I can't forget."
"You shouldn't," Jiminie agreed. "But you also shouldn't forget what he's trying to do now. He's showing up, Tae. Every day. For you, for the twins. I still wanna punch him sometimes," she added with a wink, "but I'd rather see you cautiously happy than forever guarded and alone."
Taehyungie's lips pressed into a thin line.
"I don't know what's gonna happen," she said with a difficult swallow "But I said okay. So... I guess I'm going."
Jiminie's grip on Taehyungie's hand loosened as a sudden thought struck her. Her eyes widened dramatically, and she leaned forward with a loud, scandalized gasp.
"Oh my God — the kids! Who's going to watch the twins while you're off on your little scandalous rendezvous?!"
Taehyungie blinked at her, amused. "Jungkook said Yoongi will take care of them."
"What?!" Jiminie screeched, almost launching herself off the chair. "He just dumped them on my man like that?! How dare he?!"
Taehyungie burst into laughter at Jiminie's completely offended expression, the way her mouth twisted like she'd just been personally wronged by the universe.
"Don't you want to have the kids around?" Taehyungie teased, her voice light, warmth returning to her chest.
Jiminie scoffed and flopped back into the chair dramatically, arms crossed. "Tae. I've had them around even before they were born. I literally held your hair back during morning sickness, remember that? They were already cockblocking me before they even had a heartbeat."
Taehyungie laughed harder, doubling over in her seat, the sound echoing in the sleek glass-and-marble office.
Jiminie pouted. "This was supposed to be my weekend. I had plans, woman."
"Oh no," Taehyungie said, covering her mouth. "What kind of plans?"
Jiminie narrowed her eyes with a sly little grin. "The freaky kind. I even bought this new red lace set. Like, full-on garter situation. Do you know how hard it is to find one that Yoongi hasn't already seen in my drawer?"
"Ew!" Taehyungie cried, making a face and swatting at her best friend. "Gross. TMI!"
Jiminie shrugged, smug. "Listen, we all heal in different ways. I heal with lace and a mint-scented candle and making my man suffer in the best way possible."
Taehyungie giggled, leaning her cheek into her palm. "You're impossible"
They both laughed — loud, open, real laughter. The kind that only came in the company of someone who knew every bruise in your heart and loved you anyway.
The laughter faded into a moment of quiet, the kind that wasn't awkward but instead full of everything unspoken.
Jiminie smiled at her again, softer this time. "You're glowing, Tae."
Taehyung's smile faltered — but didn't disappear. "I'm terrified."
And Jiminie — brave, bold, fiercely protective Jiminie — smiled at her like she was the strongest person in the world.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 31: A crown of flowers and eyes in the shadows
Chapter Text
Long chap ahead!!
It was a little past 4:00pm when Jungkook finished tying the last loop of Taeri's hair. It wasn't perfect — in fact, it looked like a half-slanted onion bulb trying its best to resemble a bun — but his daughter clapped her hands in delight anyway, eyes shining.
"It looks like a cloud peach! Just like in that show!" she chirped, turning her head this way and that to admire her reflection in the hallway mirror. "Unnie at school said cloud peaches are magic!"
Jungkook chuckled, brushing a stray strand from her forehead and pressing a kiss there. "Then you're the prettiest cloud peach in the world."
From the couch, Taehyun swung his legs and declared proudly, "I played soccer today!"
Jungkook turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah? Did you score?" Taehyun shook his head with a tiny pout. "No. Junwoo kicked better than me."
"Well," Jungkook grinned, reaching over to ruffle his son's hair, "we're gonna fix that. This weekend, I'll teach you the ultimate Jeon soccer skills. We're gonna make Junwoo wish he never laced up his boots."
Taehyun squealed in triumph, already imagining himself scoring ten goals and doing a dramatic knee-slide celebration.
Once the kids were dressed and sitting cross-legged on the carpet watching a gentle educational cartoon about sea animals, Jungkook began tidying. A small mountain of ribbons, socks, hair clips, crayon-scrawled papers, plushies, and mismatched shoes sat by the door, each item a reminder of how deeply the twins had made this penthouse a home in just a few weeks.
He packed the final bag, glancing fondly over at his children, their heads tilted in sync toward the screen. When he told them earlier that they'd be staying the day with Uncle Yoongi and Aunt Jiminie, they had exploded with excitement. Taeri couldn't wait for Uncle Yoongi to play the guitar for her again — she called it her "princess concert." Taehyun had gleefully sworn to stay up and skip nap time just to annoy Auntie Jiminie.
Jungkook had shaken his head fondly at their dramatics. So full of life, he thought. So much like her...
Just then, the lock on the penthouse door clicked. He stood up quickly.
The door opened and in walked Taehyungie — her aura a force of nature, even after a long day at work. Her face held that untouched glow, lips painted soft rose, lashes dark and curled. Her heels clicked lightly on the marble floor, and the air itself seemed to bow in reverence.
Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. She didn't look at him.
The twins sprang to life. "Mummy!!" Taehyungie beamed and crouched to their level as they raced into her arms. "We'll be good, promise! And not eat too many cookies!"
"Not too many," Taehyun added, eyes wide like a guilty puppy. "But some..."
Taehyungie giggled, kissing their cheeks and glancing up — her eyes finally catching sight of Taeri's hair.
She blinked once... then burst into laughter. "Oh my God," she said, still crouching, "who did this?"
"Daddy!" Taeri squealed proudly. "Isn't it pretty?"
Taehyungie looked up again, laughter in her throat, and nodded. "It's... adorable. Very... cloud peach."
Jungkook stood awkwardly nearby, scratching the back of his neck. "I tried."
Their eyes met — and for a split second, the silence roared.
He cleared his throat and quickly said, "I'll, uh... drop them off now. I'll change at Yoongi-hyung's. You can take your time getting ready."
Taehyungie nodded, swallowing. "Okay."
She bent down and kissed her children again, whispering last-minute instructions about being good and not drinking too much drinks. The twins waved as they headed out, giggling down the hallway, their laughter echoing like a warm memory.
The elevator dinged. Then silence.
And suddenly, it was just her.
Taehyungie closed the door slowly, resting her back against it. Her hand moved instinctively to her chest — the place where her heart was pounding mercilessly, echoing in her ears.
She exhaled deeply, muttering to herself.
"Why the hell am I nervous..."
She pushed herself off the door, letting her heels click softly across the marble as she moved towards her room. Each step felt calculated, as though she were trying not to shatter the glass stillness of the space. There was something sacred in this quiet... something that told her that tonight might matter more than she was willing to admit.
When she reached her bedroom, she flicked on the warm golden lights and stood for a moment at the edge of her bed. The vanity mirror across the room stared back at her. She caught her reflection — composed, pristine, painted lips slightly parted.
"Breathe," she whispered to herself. Her voice, low and hoarse with tension, barely echoed in the room.
She turned away from the mirror and headed toward the bathroom.
The ensuite was pristine, wrapped in tones of ivory and soft grey, with warm golden light spilling from the sconces. She stepped in quietly, shutting the door behind her as though trying to lock the world out — just for a little while.
Taehyungie opened the cabinets beneath the marble counter and retrieved a few things: her rose bath soak, a soft sponge, and a candle she'd been saving — sandalwood, musk, and something a little floral. She lit it without thinking, the flame flickering gently as she began to fill the tub.
The sound of rushing water echoed through the bathroom, steady and soothing. She tested the temperature with her fingers — hot, but not scalding. Perfect.
Slowly, deliberately, she undressed, folding her clothes and setting them aside with the same grace she carried everywhere. As she eased herself into the steaming water, a sigh escaped her lips — one she hadn't realized she'd been holding in all day.
The heat embraced her, curling around her like arms she didn't have to fight. She sank deeper until the water touched her collarbone, and tilted her head back against the edge of the tub.
Silence.
Then the smallest of thoughts crept in.
He tied Taeri's hair. It looked like a mushroom but... she loved it. He's trying.
She ran her wet fingers over her neck, feeling the tension slowly melt beneath her skin.
He was trying. Not in words — not just empty apologies. In actions. In quiet service. In little things that echoed louder than declarations.
And it terrified her.
Taehyungie shut her eyes. In the warm glow of the candlelight, memories came slowly — pieces she'd buried deep.
Jungkook, fourteen, smiling at her with his hair messy from the wind.
Jungkook, fifteen, holding her hand behind the school gym during lunch breaks.
Jungkook, nineteen, saying he didn't want the baby.
Jungkook, broken at her feet, whispering please.
Her chest ached again.
She lifted a hand and pressed her palm gently over her heart, just like she'd done in the meeting earlier on that day — like she could hold herself together if she just applied enough pressure.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered to the quiet air.
The water lapped softly against the porcelain.
She stayed there a while longer, soaking in silence and candlelight, her skin softening, her breath steadying. Slowly, the heat seeped deeper than her skin — into her bones, into the cage around her heart. She felt the ice crack just a little.
By the time she finally rose from the water, the nerves hadn't disappeared... but they had dulled, softened around the edges. She dried herself gently with a fresh towel, slipping into a silky robe that fell around her like a whisper.
She walked back into her bedroom, the scent of her bath clinging faintly to her skin, and sat once more at the vanity. Her hair, still damp, curled slightly at the ends. She let it fall naturally, brushing it slowly as she sat on her dressing chair, precise movements before pulling open a drawer filled with carefully arranged accessories.
She stared at them blankly.
What do someone wear on a date with the man who once shattered her heart?
Is it even a date?
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
From her phone, a gentle vibration hummed. She glanced at the screen — a text from Jiminie:
"He's already there. I swear, he looked like he was about to faint. GO EASY ON HIM, TIGRESS."
Taehyungie snorted, shaking her head, a faint smile tugging at her mouth as she rolled her eyes. Trust Jiminie to inject drama even into her nerves.
She stood and moved towards her closet, pulling open the large oak doors. Inside hung silks and satins, tailored suits and dresses, all pristine and untouched. Yet her fingers hovered over a muted slip dress — soft champagne— elegant, understated, and unlike the version of herself she wore to boardrooms or fashion launches.
It felt... like her. The real her. The girl underneath the years of strength, pride, pain.
As she slipped it on, her skin glowed, her collarbones delicate and sharp above the red satin of her dress , hugging her frame like second skin. It clung to her waist, dipping just enough at her chest to hint, not scream. A slit ran up her thigh, teasing a peek of long, toned leg with every step. It was sexy, deliberate, but nothing vulgar — it was Taehyungie, reborn. Unapologetic and untouchable.
She reached for the diamond- tear drop earrings Claire had once gifted her — "for a night when you want to feel like every eye in the room belongs to you," the woman had said.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she clipped them on. Her face was already done — minimal, just a brush of peach and a bold red lip. Hair in soft waves cascading down her back like she hadn't tried too hard, even though she absolutely had.
"You're doing too much," she whispered to her reflection, voice barely audible.
But she didn't stop. She sprayed perfume down her neck, behind her ears, inside her wrists. Jasmine and cedarwood. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. But she also didn't want to look indifferent.
She wanted to look like herself. The version of Taehyungie that had existed before all the storms. The one who used to blush under a boy's stare. The one who used to believe in warm nights and shy glances and kisses that meant something.
And maybe... maybe she wanted him to see that version again too.
Her heart was beating like a drum again.
She closed her eyes.
It was just dinner.
Just dinner.
But the nerves didn't fade — not completely. They stayed there, fluttering under her ribs like moths chasing light.
She picked up her phone, about to text Jiminie again, when she noticed something else in the corner of her dresser. A drawing — the twins had left it there earlier. A scribbled family portrait. Four stick figures. Two small ones holding hands, and two bigger ones with hearts drawn between them. The "daddy" stick figure even had bunny ears.
She smiled slowly, pressing her hand to her mouth to stifle the emotion crawling up her throat.
That's why she was nervous.
Because this wasn't just a dinner.
This was a door creaking open — even just a sliver — and her heart knew it.
The doorbell echoed through the penthouse like a gunshot.
Taehyungie's breath hitched.
She jolted, the sketched family portrait fluttered to the floor like a forgotten memory. Her heart pounded in her chest, thundering against her ribs like it was trying to escape.
The screen of her phone lit up — a soft chime following a text.
Jungkook: I'm in the living room.
A wave of nausea swept over her. Her palms grew clammy as she stared down at the simple message. It wasn't the words — it was the weight they carried. The implications. The past. The breathless anticipation of what tonight could mean.
She closed her eyes briefly, swallowing the bile that climbed up her throat.
This was it.
She grabbed her purse with trembling fingers, smoothing her hands over the rich fabric of her dress, as if trying to ground herself. Then — with one last steadying inhale — she stepped out.
In the living room, Jungkook stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights painting golden reflections on the glass. His heart wouldn't stop pounding. He ran a hand through his freshly styled hair for the fiftieth time, adjusted his shirt cuffs, then sighed.
Jiminie's voice was still ringing in his ears when he was leaving after dropping the kids:
"If you ruin this, Jeon Jungkook, I swear to God I will sell your left kidney. And wear red to the funeral."
He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The tension had his stomach in knots. What if she changed her mind? What if she walked out and told him this was a mistake? Or worse... what if she didn't come out at all?
And then — the faintest creak of a door opening.
The soft click of heels against polished marble floors. Jungkook's breath caught.
He turned. And his world stopped. Time did not slow — it shattered.
Taehyungie emerged like a vision carved from sin and silk. The hallway light behind her haloed her figure in a faint golden glow, casting soft shadows that only made her presence more ethereal, more dangerous. Her steps were unhurried, intentional. Each one echoed with the poise of a woman who knew the effect she had — even if she hated it.
Her hair was casted on her back, revealing the elegant line of her throat. Diamond teardrop earrings kissed her collarbone with every graceful movement. And her face — God, her face.
Radiant. Regal. Lined with a subtle wariness, but held high like a queen's.
Her lips, painted a deep crimson, curved ever so slightly in a way that told him: I see you looking. I expect you to.
But it was the dress that stole the very breath from Jungkook's lungs.
A deep red, darker than wine, molded to her figure like it had been born from her skin. The neckline dipped low — dangerously low — teasing the swell of her cleavage, framed by thin shoulder straps and a sharp cutout that drew attention straight to her chest. Jungkook's eyes lingered there for a split second too long before he forced them away.
But it didn't help.
Because then there was the waist — cinched, perfect, an hourglass so lethal it made his knees weaken.
And then came the slit.
The gown parted high on her thigh, exposing a stretch of bare skin so flawless it glowed. Her leg moved with a sleek, fluid grace that had Jungkook entirely hypnotized. The subtle flex of her thigh with every step was doing things to him — dangerous things. Unholy thoughts flickered in his brain like fire.
He didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until a tight, painful pressure in his lungs forced a gasp out of him.
"Holy..." he whispered under his breath, unable to finish.
" he whispered under his breath, unable to finish
She hadn't even spoken.
Taehyungie stopped a few feet away, one hand loosely holding her purse, the other brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't say a word. Just looked at him — eyes unreadable, chin tilted slightly, as if daring him to say the wrong thing.
Jungkook swallowed hard, heart racing so fast he was sure it echoed in the room.
"You..." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, tried again.
"You look... breathtaking"
A faint smile tugged at her lips. Not soft — sharp. Beautiful. Measured.
"And you," she said, gaze trailing over his form with that unreadable glint, "look like you forgot how to speak."
He let out a breathless laugh, cheeks red. "Can you blame me?" he asked honestly, voice lower now, reverent. "You walked in and my heart just—stopped."
A silence fell between them, charged. Electric. Thick with words unspoken and emotions teetering on the edge.
Taehyungie slowly turned her head toward the door.
"Are we going?"
Jungkook nodded slowly, offering his arm. "Whenever you're ready."
She didn't take his arm. Just walked ahead — the slit revealing more of that devastating leg with every step.
And Jungkook? He followed like a man under a spell.
Because tonight, Taehyungie wasn't just dressed to impress.
She was dressed to destroy him.
And God help him — he wanted to be ruined.
--
The car door clicked shut with a gentle thud. Silence swallowed the interior like velvet — thick, heavy, and filled with electricity.
Jungkook gripped the steering wheel tightly, the cool leather biting into his skin. His knuckles had turned white. He hadn't said a word since they entered the car. Couldn't. His throat was dry, his chest a riot of pounding heartbeats.
Next to him, Taehyungie sat with her legs crossed elegantly, back straight, her profile tilted slightly toward the window. The golden city lights danced along her bare shoulder, casting flickers of light over her skin. She looked like something out of a forbidden dream — ethereal, dangerous, divine.
His eyes trailed down the curve of her collarbone, the way the straps of her dress clung delicately to her skin. The dip of the neckline exposed just enough to drive him to the edge, and the slit of the dress—God—the slit had ridden just a little higher as she sat, revealing even more of that impossibly smooth thigh.
He swallowed hard.
His hands itched. Not metaphorically — literally. There was a raw, physical ache clawing through his fingers, screaming at him to reach out. To touch the soft skin just inches away. To feel if she was as warm and silky as she looked.
But he didn't move.
He couldn't.
Taehyungie still hadn't looked at him. And maybe that hurt most of all.
The silence stretched between them like a wire pulled taut. Outside, the world moved — horns honking faintly, people walking the streets, neon lights flickering — but inside the car, time stood still.
He forced his eyes back on the road, fingers tightening around the wheel again. His throat burned.
Taehyungie finally spoke, voice calm, distant, yet smooth like honey.
"You keep looking at me like that and we'll crash."
Jungkook blinked. "I'm not—" His voice came out too fast, too rough. He cleared his throat, glanced sideways. "I wasn't looking at you."
Her head turned, slowly. Their eyes met.
Her expression was unreadable. But her gaze... it was knowing. Deep. As if she could see straight through him — past the mask, past the effort, right into the vulnerable mess of a man he was underneath.
"You were," she said softly. "You still are." Jungkook looked away. Laughed under his breath, but it sounded more like a groan.
"Can you blame me?" he whispered.
Another silence.
Taehyungie adjusted slightly, uncrossing her legs and folding them again, the movement causing the slit to shift higher for a second. Jungkook's peripheral vision betrayed him. His grip on the wheel faltered.
Taehyungie let out a breath — quiet but audible. "Don't look at me like that, Jungkook," she murmured, voice low.
He turned toward her again. "Like what?"
"Like I'm yours."
The words hit him like a slap. Like a kiss. Like a bullet and a balm at the same time.
He let his head fall back against the seat, exhaling shakily.
"I don't know how else to look at you," he confessed, voice hoarse. "I've tried."
Taehyungie didn't respond. She turned back to the window, her face a mask, but her chest rose and fell faster now. Her fingers clenched her clutch just a little tighter.
Jungkook reached for the music dial, desperate for something to break the unbearable silence — but his fingers brushed the wrong button and the air conditioning kicked in with a soft hum instead. Taehyungie's hair fluttered slightly in the breeze.
Jungkook shut his eyes.
God, even the way her hair moved made him want to weep.
She was right there. And still somehow out of reach.
"You look..." he started, then stopped, lips parting helplessly.
Taehyungie waited, silently.
He turned toward her, voice barely above a whisper. "You look so beautiful it hurts to breathe."
Her eyes flickered toward him again — this time softer, slower — and for a brief second, something fragile passed between them. A crack in her mask. A flicker of ache. Of remembrance.
But she didn't reply.
She just looked away again.
Jungkook exhaled shakily, fingers twitching against his thighs. Touch her, his body screamed.
Don't you dare, his mind warned.
And so he drove.
Silently.
Burning with longing in a car filled with silence, tension, and a woman who once loved him so deeply — and now sat inches away, wearing a dress that felt like punishment for every time he'd ever hurt her.
The drive was quiet — not in the absence of sound, but in the overwhelming presence of everything unspoken. Jungkook didn't dare speak again, not when every glance he stole at Taehyungie made his heart pound against his ribcage like it was trying to escape.
When they finally arrived, he pulled into the discreet parking lot of a charming, tucked-away restaurant near the Seine — not a grand, chandelier-hung luxury venue, but a warm, intimate space with tall windows and candlelight visible even from the outside.
It wasn't opulent. But it was beautiful.
Meaningful.
He had booked the entire restaurant. Not for grandiosity. For her.
He stepped out quickly and circled the car, eager, his heartbeat thudding in his ears.
The valet barely had a chance to react before Jungkook reached the passenger side and pulled open the door.
Then she stepped out.
And the world stopped.
Her heel touched the pavement first, and then the slit of her crimson dress revealed one long, sculpted leg. She rose slowly, gracefully, like something from a dream.
The cool evening breeze caught the edge of her dress and tousled her long hair just enough to make her look unreal. The slit of her dress revealed that endless leg, adorned with silver heels that sparkled under the streetlamps. Her skin glowed under the amber city lights. Her neckline dipped delicately, lips slightly parted, lashes long and soft against her cheekbones as she blinked up at the entrance.
Jungkook's breath hitched.
He could hear it — the muffled gasps from the staff standing inside the restaurant through the tall glass door. The waiters and waitresses had all been briefed — a VIP booking for the night — but no one had warned them the woman stepping out of the car would look like this.
Like temptation wrapped in satin.
Like power and elegance and heartbreak all sewn into a single woman.
His woman, a voice inside Jungkook whispered. She was. Once.
He held out his hand without thinking— instinctive, gentle, aching to feel her fingers slide into his palm again.
Taehyungie looked at it for a beat.
But she didn't take it
She smoothed her dress, and walked right past him like his hand wasn't there at all.
His chest burned.
Not with anger. But shame. Longing. And something bitterly familiar — the consequence of what he had done.
The waitstaff inside the restaurant, already lined up and prepared to greet them, faltered. One waitress blinked rapidly, clearly in awe. Another elbowed her colleague, eyes wide. The maître d' bowed too quickly, fumbling his words as he pushed the door open for her.
And Taehyungie?
She didn't notice.
Or she didn't care. But Jungkook noticed everything.
The pride. The jealousy. The pure ache in his chest.
He guided her gently toward a private table near the tall windows, overlooking a quaint, quiet stretch of the city's evening glow. Candles flickered gently, casting dancing shadows across the tablecloth.
Jungkook moved quickly, pulling her chair out for her before she could touch it.
Taehyungie looked up at him — finally — her expression unreadable, her eyes catching the flame's reflection.
He didn't speak. He didn't dare.
He just... helped her sit. Wordlessly. As he took his own seat across from her, the staff quietly bowed and disappeared, leaving them alone in the soft hush of a restaurant meant just for two.
And in the silence that followed — just her perfume, the faint sound of Paris beyond the windows, and the crackle of a candle between them — Jungkook realized: He had never been more nervous in his life.
The waiter approached quietly, too carefully, as if afraid to interrupt something sacred. He offered the menu with two trembling hands, his gaze flicking nervously between the both of them.
"Would you care for something to drink while you decide?" he asked.
Taehyungie's gaze didn't waver from Jungkook. Her lashes lifted slowly, eyes sharp and unreadable, a queen cloaked in velvet grace. Then she turned to the waiter, her voice smooth and crisp like a polished diamond.
"Red. A Malbec, if you have one."
"Of course," the waiter stammered, then turned to Jungkook.
He blinked. "The same," he murmured, though his voice was a little rough.
As the waiter disappeared, silence curled back into place like smoke between them. Taehyungie toyed with her napkin, folding the corner carefully, her expression unreadable.
Jungkook exhaled through his nose, watching her. "You look beautiful," he said-- again — low, honest.
She didn't look up, but her lips twitched. Slight. Barely there. Almost a ghost of a smile.
Or maybe just a twitch.
"So I've heard," she murmured, lifting her gaze slowly, daring him to say more.
Jungkook chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly. "I mean it."
Taehyungie arched a perfectly drawn brow. "Do you say that to all your exes before wine is served?"
He grinned, caught — but unoffended. "Only the ones who destroyed me and still agreed to meet for dinner."
Her lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his honesty. "Destroyed you?" she repeated, voice quiet.
"You have no idea," Jungkook said, gaze locking with hers, calm but vulnerable, no playfulness in his tone now.
Taehyungie studied him. Her fingers moved slowly along the stem of her water glass, eyes flickering over his features like she was trying to read the spaces between his words.
She opened her mouth — but the wine arrived.
The waiter poured slowly, gently tipping the bottle, letting the ruby red swirl like a quiet storm into the crystal glasses. Then, just as quickly, he was gone again, swallowed by the silence.
They both lifted their glasses at the same time, the gentle clink more intimate than it should have been.
"To... what exactly?" Taehyungie asked, her voice velvet-wrapped steel.
Jungkook paused, his gaze deep on hers. "To second chances." Taehyungie tilted her head — thoughtful, curious.
But she didn't toast.
Instead, she took a slow sip and set her glass down with a soft clink.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said coolly. "It's just wine. Not forgiveness."
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, nodding slightly, a wry smile on his lips. "Then... to just wine."
That got the ghost of a laugh from her — small, controlled, but real.
They stared at each other, the world outside forgotten. And beneath the table, Jungkook's hands ached again — not just to touch her, but to reach her.
To hold something he had broken with careless hands and foolish pride.
She looked away first. But not before he caught the flash of something soft in her eyes , maybe curiosity.
The conversation slowed only for the waiter to return, this time with their starters — a delicate arrangement of beet tartare and citrus-dressed greens.
Taehyungie looked at the plate, then blinked, once.
She raised her gaze, eyes narrowing at Jungkook. "You remembered," she murmured.
Jungkook shrugged lightly, picking up his fork. "You always hated heavy meals on an empty stomach. You used to call anything fried before six p.m. a crime against digestion."
A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips, then disappeared just as quickly. "That's dangerously accurate."
He glanced up from his plate, catching her gaze. "You still talk like that. Makes me think not everything about you has changed."
Taehyungie scoffed gently, slicing into the beet with elegance. "And you talk like someone who's trying to get under my skin."
"Am I?" he asked quietly. She didn't answer.
The silence between them stretched again — but this time, it wasn't suffocating. It was soft. Curious.
A part of her wanted to lean into it, and another part was already reaching for the next wall.
Jungkook cleared his throat softly, swirling the wine in his glass. "Can I ask you something?"
"Depends," she said, brushing invisible crumbs off her lap, not meeting his eyes. "Is it invasive or just vaguely inappropriate?"
He chuckled under his breath. "Neither."
She finally looked up. "Then ask."
He hesitated, his fingers curling loosely around the base of the wine glass. "When were they born?"
Taehyungie blinked. "The twins?"
He nodded once. She studied him for a long moment — maybe trying to guess his intentions. Maybe still deciding if he deserved to know.
"March 23rd," she finally said, quiet. "Taeri was born first. Two minutes later, Taehyun came out screaming like he owned the hospital."
Jungkook's breath left him in a slow exhale. "November," he murmured. "That's... that's soon after..."
"Yes," Taehyungie interrupted gently, eyes hard. "Very soon after."
Regret flickered in his gaze, then shame — but also awe. His jaw tensed slightly, a vein in his neck pulsing. "I should've been there."
"Yes," she said simply, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. "You should've."
There was no malice in her voice — only truth.
Jungkook dropped his gaze to the table, the flickering candlelight making shadows dance over his knuckles. He wanted to ask more — their first words, what made them laugh, which one was more like her — but something told him to be patient.
She wasn't a story to be rushed.
Taehyungie took another sip of wine, and this time, when she looked at him, the sharpness in her gaze had dulled to something cautious but alive.
"You're quiet," she observed. Jungkook looked up. "Just listening. Watching."
She tilted her head slightly. "You always were good at that."
He grinned. "Except when I wasn't." She rolled her eyes "Exactly."
A new dish arrived — something warm and familiar. Taehyungie blinked again, surprised. She stared at it for a moment before whispering, "This is the mushroom risotto we had at that restaurant in Seoul."
Jungkook nodded slowly. "I asked the chef to try recreating it."
Taehyungie looked at the dish, then at him. "You're not playing fair."
"Not trying to," he said softly. "I just... wanted tonight to feel like something. Even if it ends with you walking away."
She swallowed slowly, the lump in her throat thick and stubborn. "You think a risotto will fix eight years?"
"No," he said, gaze steady. "But it might help you remember that we weren't always broken."
The tension between them shifted again — no longer barbed, no longer afraid.
Just heavy with history. And maybe the first whisper of possibility. She took a bite — slow, thoughtful.
Then looked at him, lips curled slightly. "You should've asked if I still liked mushrooms," she said with a raised brow.
He froze, suddenly nervous. Her eyes glinted, playful.
"I do," she whispered.
And just like that — the smallest crack in the armor.
--
The Parisian night air was cool, soft with the scent of summer roses and city charm. The faint hum of distant jazz floated through the breeze as Taehyungie and Jungkook walked side by side on a cobbled pathway near the Seine, the moonlight casting silver shadows at their feet.
Taehyungie had her arms crossed, more from instinct than discomfort. Her heels clicked against the stone quietly, each step poised and calculated, while Jungkook walked just a little slower than her—his hands buried in his pockets, sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking.
He had insisted on the walk, claiming he needed air, but the truth was he wasn't ready to say goodnight. Not when she looked like that. Not when her presence was finally close again.
"You've always liked night walks," he said softly, breaking the silence between them.
Taehyungie didn't respond at first. Her eyes remained on the river ahead, shimmering like liquid glass. "That was a long time ago," she replied, her voice cool but not cutting.
Jungkook gave a small smile. "Still feels like yesterday."
She turned to him slowly, her brows slightly raised. "It doesn't to me."
Jungkook didn't flinch. Instead, he took a breath. "Can I tell you something?"
She glanced at him warily. "If you must."
Jungkook's voice dropped, his tone sincere, laced with emotion. "I think about it every night. What I missed. What I ruined. And yet, standing here with you, I feel like I'm holding the smallest thread of hope again."
She looked away, swallowing hard.
"I don't deserve it, I know," he added quickly. "But that doesn't stop me from feeling it."
Taehyungie's breath hitched, her eyes glossing slightly. "Jungkook..."
He stepped a little closer, his body drawn to hers like gravity. "I don't expect anything from you. But I can't lie—when I saw you tonight, the way you looked, the way you laughed with the kids earlier—God, Taehyungie... I've never wanted to hold someone more."
There was a tense pause. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. Jungkook's vulnerable eyes searched hers, something in him cracked almost hesitant, but he leaned in , slow, uncertain.
His lips ghosted over hers, as if asking permission.
Taehyungie's eyes widened, her breath shallow, and before she could stop herself, her lips moved. They met him halfway. Soft. Warm. Familiar.
Slowly at first. Her hand clutched the fabric of his coat instinctively, his fingers brushing gently along her waist. It was tentative, like testing a wound long scabbed. Then, it deepened. Their mouths moved in harmony, the city fading around them—only breath, warmth, and longing remained.
10 seconds passed. And then it shattered.
Taehyungie pulled away—sharply, almost violently.
She gasped, stepping back. Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and glistening.
"Taehyungie—"
She raised her hand, silencing him. "You think because of the twins—because of this dinner—that you can just walk back into my life and expect me to melt into your arms?"
"No, that's not what I—"
"You think I'm still that girl?" she whispered harshly, voice cracking with rage and something worse—betrayal. "The one who used to blush when you looked at her? The one who cried for you every night for months while her body carried your children? That girl is gone."
Jungkook froze, his face crumbling.
"I'm not yours anymore," she hissed. "I'm not some chapter you can reopen because it suits you. I built myself from the ashes you left me in."
"Taehyungie, please," he whispered, stepping toward her.
She stepped back, trembling, her posture stood tall. She turned before he could see the tears fall, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement as she walked away—away from the ghost of what they once were.
Jungkook stood there, his breath ragged, chest hollow, haunted by the warmth that had just slipped through his fingers.
And the taste of her lips still lingered.
The door slammed behind her with a thud that echoed through the marble-tiled restroom. Taehyungie staggered forward, bracing her hands against the sink as if her legs had suddenly forgotten how to hold her weight. Her breath came in ragged bursts, chest rising and falling as her reflection stared back at her in the mirror.
She didn't look like herself.
Her perfectly styled hair, her smudgeless makeup, her flawless dress—it all looked like armor now. Something she'd worn to pretend. To convince herself that she was untouchable, untouchable enough to survive this night.
But her swollen lips betrayed her. The tear that slipped quietly down her cheek betrayed her. And the way her fingers trembled against the sink basin. She kissed him back. And she hated that she had.
"Stupid," she whispered under her breath, her voice cracking as she fought to steady herself. "You're so stupid."
Another tear escaped, trailing slowly down her cheek. She bit her lip hard to stop the sob that threatened to erupt. But the memory came back in a tidal wave—the way his lips felt against hers, the way he smelled, the way his hands didn't roam but rested reverently at her waist like she was sacred, like she was his breath.
And it burned.
Because she hated that it felt safe.
She hated that her heart, the same heart she swore she'd closed off forever, had betrayed her with a kiss. Just one kiss and it cracked open, the ache surging back like it had never really left.
"Why did you come back?" she whispered bitterly to her reflection. Her voice wasn't accusing—it was broken. "Why now, Jungkook? Why now when I was finally okay?"
She reached for a tissue, dabbed gently under her eyes, careful not to ruin the makeup she had applied with such precision. But the smear of mascara at the corners proved she was human. Proved she wasn't as okay as she thought.
She stared at herself—at the bold neckline of her dress, at the sharp collarbones and perfect curves she wore like power. Tonight, she had looked like the queen of Paris.
But inside, she felt like the same girl who once sat in a hospital bed, alone, watching the rise and fall of two fragile heartbeats on a monitor, waiting for someone who never came.
She thought of the twins—of Taeri's wild laugh, of Taehyun's dimpled smile. She had done it all alone. She survived. She thrived. And yet, a single look from him, a single whisper of regret, had unraveled her tonight.
The kiss... it wasn't just lips.
It was memory. It was longing. It was unfinished chapters pressed into breath and skin.
Taehyungie inhaled sharply, her hands now curled tightly around the edge of the sink as if it could hold her up.
"I'm not that girl," she whispered again, this time louder, as if she needed to hear it in her own voice.
And she wasn't.
But damn it, a part of her still remembered what it was like to be loved by him. Or at least, what she thought was love.
She took one last look in the mirror, straightened her shoulders, and fixed her hair with delicate fingers. Her lips were still red and slightly swollen—proof of a moment that shouldn't have happened.
Taehyungie stared at her reflection and gave a brittle, beautiful smile.
Then she turned, heels echoing like defiance against the polished floor as she exited the bathroom—leaving the pieces of her broken calm behind.
Jungkook paced just outside the restaurant, a trembling hand running through his hair for the hundredth time. The night air was crisp, but it did little to cool the fire blazing under his skin—the ache of regret, of guilt, of longing. His lips still burned with the memory of her taste. His heart still hadn't stopped racing.
He hadn't meant to kiss her. God, maybe he had. But not like that. Not so soon. Not when her heart was still tender and bruised beneath the layers she'd built.
He exhaled sharply, stopping in place, staring out at the soft blur of city lights that lined the cobbled Parisian street. Cars passed, voices drifted, laughter echoed from faraway lovers—but it all felt muffled in his ears.
Because Taehyungie had pushed him away.
And he saw it in her eyes—the betrayal, the fear, the sharp edge of a woman who had learned the price of trust. He hadn't just kissed her.
He had unraveled her.
The restaurant doors chimed softly behind him. His breath caught as he turned.
And there she was.
Taehyungie stepped out into the night like she was carved from stardust—her long hair dancing gently in the breeze, her heels striking the pavement with steady defiance. The dress she wore shimmered under the golden glow of the lamplight, every elegant dip and curve drawing the gaze like a magnetic force.
But it was her face that undid him.
Her expression was unreadable—eyes carefully neutral, lips still parted slightly as if the echo of their kiss lingered there too. There was a slight flush in her cheeks, the kind only intense emotion could cause. Her breathing was even now, composed. Regal. Distant.
But Jungkook knew her too well.
He saw the storm she carried behind those lashes. The one she didn't want anyone to see.
He stepped forward hesitantly. "Taehyungie..."
She held up a hand, not with cruelty—but calm command.
"Don't," she said, her voice low and silken, yet edged with steel.
Jungkook flinched, nodding slowly. His eyes dropped to the ground, guilt swimming in their depths. "I'm sorry," he whispered anyway, the words tumbling out. "I didn't mean to... I didn't plan that. I just—"
"I know," Taehyungie interrupted gently, surprising them both. She met his gaze again, softer now, though guarded. "But it doesn't change the fact that you did."
Silence stretched between them. The wind picked up slightly, tousling strands of her hair.
"I wasn't ready," she added, almost to herself. "You caught me off guard."
Jungkook looked up, chest heaving, desperate to say more, to fix it somehow. "I just... I saw you, and you were so beautiful, and I—God, Tae, I missed you. Not just as the mother of my children, not just as someone I hurt—I missed you. And I ruined it again, didn't I?"
Taehyungie looked away, swallowing hard. Her throat bobbed. Her hands clenched around her purse like it was the only anchor she had.
"Can we get going?" she asked then, her voice cooler now, professional. Detached.
He stared at her, heart breaking slowly in his chest.
This was her wall going back up.
This was her guarding the last pieces she hadn't given him permission to touch.
But still, he nodded.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I'll call the car."
They stood there for a beat longer, not speaking. Taehyungie's eyes lifted to the stars above, her chest rising with a slow breath, her emotions caged behind a beautifully curated stillness.
And Jungkook watched her—watched the woman he used to love, still loved, and now feared he'd never deserve.
--
When they arrived at Yoongi and Jiminie's apartment, the lights were dimmed low, casting a warm glow in the hallway. Taehyungie stood still at the door, her heart pounding in her chest—too loud, too erratic. Her trembling fingers tightened around her as Jungkook rang the bell.
Jiminie opened the door with a finger to her lips, whispering, "They're asleep."
But her playful eyes faltered the moment they met Taehyungie's. Her gaze dropped, catching the way her best friend's hand subtly trembled, the nervous flick of her eyes, the way she didn't step forward.
Jiminie's smile dimmed.
She looked from Taehyungie to Jungkook and then back again, the realization dawning in her eyes like a storm cloud forming. Jungkook, oblivious, had already followed Yoongi quietly down the hallway to where the twins were sprawled out on the couch like angelic chaos—one on each end.
Jiminie stepped closer to Taehyungie. "What happened?" she whispered, eyes narrowing as she gently reached for her wrist.
Taehyungie shook her head quickly, voice tight. "Nothing, Jiminie. Please, don't..."
The older girl clenched her jaw but said nothing. She let it go—though her eyes spoke volumes, still tracking every movement with silent worry.
Then Jungkook returned.
He carried both children, one cradled in each arm, their tiny heads tucked into his shoulders, their mouths open in deep sleep. Taehyungie's heart clenched painfully at the sight. Her babies... so safe, so at peace in his arms. Jungkook's muscles flexed beneath the weight, but he carried them with ease, almost reverently.
Yoongi followed behind him, their little backpacks slung lazily over his shoulder.
Taehyungie instinctively stepped forward. "I'll take one," she offered, reaching out.
Jungkook met her eyes and gave the faintest shake of his head. "I've got them."
She faltered... and nodded. The silence that followed was stiff, unbreathable.
They all walked down the hallway together, the only sound being the muffled footsteps on the carpet and the soft breathing of the twins. Jiminie's arms were crossed, her lips tight in irritation she didn't bother to hide. Yoongi held the elevator door open as they all entered, and once they reached the car, Jungkook gently placed the children into their seats with practiced ease, strapping them in carefully as their heads lolled softly.
Yoongi walked around to place their bags in the trunk, and Taehyungie offered a small, exhausted smile. "Thank you... both of you."
Jiminie raised an eyebrow. "Don't thank me yet. If they wake up at 3am tomorrow asking for marshmallows and bedtime songs, I'm suing."
Yoongi smirked. "I don't mind. Just not every Friday. My sleep has a price."
Jungkook, crouched near the car door, snorted quietly but didn't say anything as he finished buckling Taehyun in.
They exchanged short goodbyes. Jiminie reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Taehyungie's ear, squeezing her hand tightly before letting go. Taehyungie blinked fast.
Once the car pulled off and disappeared into the curve of the street, silence enveloped the couple standing at the entrance.
Jiminie's arms crossed again. "She was fidgeting like crazy. Did you see that?"
Yoongi watched the empty road a moment longer before answering, "Did you see her lips?"
Jiminie snorted. "Of course I did. You'd think she walked into a beehive."
He chuckled low under his breath, shaking his head. "They kissed."
Jiminie let out a loud, unladylike scoff. "Understatement of the year. You don't get lips like that from a polite smooch."
They stood there a moment more, the weight of reality sinking back in.
Then softly, almost like a prayer, Yoongi added, "I hope they figure it out."
Jiminie didn't speak for a long while.
Then she whispered, "Me too."
And together, they turned and walked back upstairs—leaving behind the chill of the Paris night and two fractured hearts trying to learn how to beat in rhythm again.
--
The penthouse was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets and soft hum of the night wind brushing against the glass windows. The twins were tucked into bed, curled together like puzzle pieces that had always belonged, peaceful and unaware of the storm quietly raging in the hearts of their parents.
Jungkook stepped onto the balcony, the cityscape of Paris sprawled before him, glittering like scattered diamonds under a navy sky. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms, the top buttons undone, chest still tight from the whirlwind of emotions Taehyungie had left him with.
The way she had kissed him—soft at first, hesitant—and then the way she had pulled away like he had burned her.
He hadn't stopped thinking about it since.
With a shaky breath, he pulled out his phone, scrolled past several messages from Hoseok and one from Yoongi telling him "She's okay. Just give her time." And then he tapped on the only number he knew would understand.
The phone rang once, twice... and then her warm, familiar voice answered.
"Jungkook?"
His throat tightened. "Hi, Eomma."
A pause, and then her voice softened with concern. "Are you alright, my son?"
He leaned against the cold glass, hand gripping the rail. "I don't know."
"You sound tired. Have you eaten?"
A humorless chuckle left his lips. "Dinner? Yeah. We had a date... I ruined it."
Yeona didn't speak right away. Her silence was never judgmental—it was always thoughtful, like she was reading between the lines.
He continued, voice quieter. "We were walking after dinner. I—I kissed her."
Another pause.
"She kissed me back... for a few seconds. Then she looked at me like I broke her again. She walked off, and I... I couldn't stop her."
Yeona's voice came soft, motherly, threaded with sadness. "You're trying. And that's more than what she got years ago. But Jungkook-ah... scars take time."
"I know." His voice cracked.
"How are my grandchildren?" she asked gently, pivoting the conversation.
Jungkook exhaled through a smile. "As beautiful as ever."
She smiled to then Yeona's tone shifted, hesitant. "And Taehyungie... is she okay?"
Jungkook's face fell. "She didn't speak to me after we got home. She put them to bed, thanked me... and locked her door."
Yeona didn't respond right away. Then her voice came steady. "I'm proud of you. For going. For staying. For doing what you never did before."
He blinked against the lump in his throat. "Thank you."
There was a beat of silence before she said gently, "Your father knows."
Everything inside Jungkook stilled. "What?"
Yeona sighed. "About the twins. About Taehyungie. About Paris. I didn't tell him much—but he pieced things together. Hoseok covered as best he could... but a father knows his children."
He swallowed. "What did he say?"
"He wants to talk to you. He... asked if he could call you."
Jungkook turned his face away from the night, jaw clenching. "No."
"Jungkook—"
"No, Eomma." His voice didn't rise, but the finality in it silenced her.
Yeona nodded quietly on the other end, her heart aching. "Okay. I understand."
And she truly did.
After all, Chairman Jeon had broken more than just Jungkook's spirit all those years ago—he had driven a wedge so deep between duty and love that even now, it still left scars across every choice Jungkook made.
Yeona exhaled. "Then rest tonight. Hold the children close. And tomorrow... try again."
Jungkook shut his eyes, her words like a balm over his chest. "Goodnight, Eomma."
"Goodnight, my son."
As he ended the call and stepped back inside, Jungkook walked down the hallway, quietly opening the twins' door. He leaned on the frame, watching them sleep peacefully under the soft glow of the nightlight. Their faces were relaxed, lashes long, cheeks flushed with warmth.
Try again, his mother had said.
His hand curled into a fist.
He would.
Even if it took forever.
--
Sunlight streamed through the wide windows of the penthouse, golden and warm, softening the crisp chill of the Parisian morning. The city outside was already awake—honking scooters, distant chatter, and the clinking of café cups forming a muted soundtrack to a day just beginning.
Inside , it was slower. Quieter.
Taehyungie stood in the kitchen barefoot, dressed in one of her silky, cream-colored robes, her long dark hair still damp from her morning shower. She looked ethereal—bare-faced, lips soft and pink, a subtle puffiness around her eyes betraying the weight of the previous night. Her fingers trembled slightly as she poured warm milk into two cartoon mugs, one with a tiny tiger and the other a blue bunny.
The twins were still fast asleep in their room, tangled together like warm kittens. She had checked on them twice already, smoothing their hair, brushing a kiss on each forehead.
She hadn't seen Jungkook yet.
She had heard his door open earlier, heard the quiet creak of floorboards and the low murmur of his voice as he made a phone call—probably to Hoseok.
She didn't know what to feel. Her heart was still in pieces.
Yet... her hands still moved, pouring cereal into tiny bowls, slicing strawberries, just as they always did.
Then—
The sound of soft footsteps. She didn't need to turn. He was there.
Jungkook stood at the threshold of the kitchen, wearing grey sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt that hugged the lines of his chest. His hair was tousled from sleep, eyes a bit puffy, and something in them flickered when he saw her like this—gentle, barefoot, in the soft glow of morning light.
"Morning," he said, voice rough.
Taehyungie didn't look at him right away. "Good morning." A pause stretched between them like a tight wire.
Jungkook moved slowly toward the counter, careful, like approaching a wild animal that might flee.
"I was going to make them breakfast," he said quietly.
"I already did." Her voice was soft, clipped—but not cruel.
Another beat of silence.
Jungkook exhaled and nodded, stepping back to give her space. "Thank you."
Taehyungie finally looked up. Their eyes met—just for a second. And in that second, Jungkook saw the storm still swirling behind hers, calm but not settled.
He wanted to apologize again, but the words felt empty. She had heard his apologies too many times.
Instead, he asked quietly, "Do you want coffee?"
Taehyungie hesitated. Then she nodded.
So he moved around the kitchen—this time side-by-side with her—and began preparing the coffee just the way she liked it.
As the coffee brewed, a silence bloomed between them again—not hostile, just... cautious.
And then—
"You kissed me," Taehyungie whispered suddenly, not looking at him.
Jungkook's hand froze on the mug. His throat worked to swallow.
"You kissed me," she said again, her voice trembling now. "And for a second, I forgot everything. I hated that."
He looked at her slowly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... couldn't stop myself."
Her eyes finally found his, brimming. "That's the problem, Jungkook. You didn't stop. You never stop to think."
"I think about you all the time."
The kettle hissed.
She turned away. "We should wake them up soon."
He didn't stop her. He just watched her walk away, robe fluttering like wings, and whispered under his breath—
"I'm still in love with you."
She didn't hear it.
The soft scent of warm cereal and strawberries wafted through the penthouse, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Taehyungie sat at the dining table, back straight but fingers absently stirring her cup. Her robe had been replaced with a light knitted sweater and loose pants, hair loosely tied, a few tendrils falling into her face.
Across from her, two small voices were starting to stir down the hall.
"Mommy...?" came the sleepy, high-pitched call of Taeri first, followed by the shuffling of small feet on hardwood. "Mommy, where's BunBun?"
Taehyungie stood and walked to the hallway just in time to see her daughter rubbing her eyes, her little pajama shirt riding up slightly over her tummy, cheeks still warm from sleep.
"Here, baby," Taehyungie whispered, crouching to pick up the stuffed bunny that had fallen near the bedroom door. She scooped her daughter into her arms, kissing her cheeks, hugging her close.
Behind Taeri, a small yawned voice chimed in.
"Mama... I had a dream I scored five goals!"
Jungkook appeared then, barefoot, hair still messy, lifting Taehyun effortlessly into his arms. The boy giggled sleepily and rested his head on Jungkook's shoulder.
Taehyungie's eyes briefly met Jungkook's.
It was fleeting. Quiet. But enough.
The moment held. They brought the twins to the table together.
Jungkook buckled them into their booster chairs, helping Taehyun with his bib and Taeri with a small clip in her hair. The clip wasn't needed, but she said she wanted to look "princessy" for breakfast. Jungkook smiled, and Taehyungie, despite herself, smiled too.
Taehyungie served their cereal, topping it with strawberries just the way they liked. Jungkook added a bit of honey for Taehyun, who didn't like things too plain. It was all routine now—soft movements, gentle gestures, two parents working in silent sync.
Taeri babbled about her dream where she flew to the moon in a tutu. Taehyun asked if he could learn guitar like Uncle Yoongi. Jungkook promised he'd learn alongside him if he wanted. Taehyungie helped wipe cereal from Taeri's chin and reached for more milk when Jungkook instinctively did the same—their hands brushing.
She pulled hers back quickly.
He looked down.
The twins didn't notice.
But the silence between them shifted.
Something delicate and unspoken lingered in the air—a whisper of a memory, of what they once were... and what they might become again.
When the twins ran off after breakfast to build a fort in the living room with pillows, Taehyungie stood slowly and began collecting the bowls.
"I can wash," Jungkook offered gently, already stacking dishes.
"I'll dry," she said, quieter than necessary.
They moved to the kitchen side-by-side again. Arms brushing. Water running. Soft sounds.
And for a few precious minutes, it wasn't painful.
Just quiet.
Warm.
--
The sun was soft that afternoon, wrapped in a sheer veil of clouds that made the sky glow like porcelain. The park was quiet, its gravel paths still dotted with fallen petals from the summer bloom. Birds chirped from the trees as children's laughter drifted on the breeze.
Jungkook held Taehyun's hand as they walked along the pathway, a picnic basket slung over his arm. Taehyungie trailed slightly behind, her other hand holding Taeri's, who was bouncing with every step, her little curls dancing wildly.
"Daddyyyy," Taehyun whined, tugging Jungkook forward. "Let's goooooo! You said we could race!"
Jungkook chuckled. "I said we'll race after lunch."
"Mommy, will you race too?" Taeri chimed in, twisting to glance at Taehyungie with big, pleading eyes.
Taehyungie gave a soft, indulgent smile. "I don't think I'm dressed for—"
"Pleaseeee," both twins chorused.
Jungkook looked over his shoulder, his eyes soft. "You can just cheer if you want," he said, voice teasing.
Taehyungie narrowed her eyes slightly. "Are you saying I can't run?"
Jungkook shrugged playfully. Taehyungie scoffed.
They settled near a quiet stretch of grass under a tree. Jungkook laid the blanket, unpacked their snacks—juice boxes, fruits, tiny sandwiches cut into stars—and Taehyungie helped place them, her fingers brushing his only once. But even that made Jungkook glance up, heart racing.
Lunch was a chorus of laughter, crumbs, and twin bickering. Jungkook wiped strawberry juice from Taehyun's cheek while Taehyungie adjusted Taeri's shoes, both stealing glances at each other over their children's heads.
Then came the moment.
"Okay! Time to race!" Taehyun shouted, jumping to his feet. "Mama! You're racing too!"
Taehyungie blinked. "Baby—"
"No excuses!" Taeri said, pulling her up with tiny determined hands. "Mama, I wanna see you win!"
Jungkook raised a brow and stood. "She's competitive," he warned in a whisper.
"I've always been competitive," she muttered, rolling up the sleeves of her linen blouse.
They lined up.
Taehyun, crouched like a mini athlete. Taeri, giggling beside him. Jungkook flexed dramatically, which earned giggles from the twins.
Taehyungie stood straight, graceful but playful, giving him a look that said, Don't underestimate me.
"Ready?" Jungkook said.
"GO!"
They ran.
It wasn't perfect—Taehyungie tripped on a twig halfway, and Jungkook faked a limp to make Taeri laugh—but when they reached the tree at the end of the path, breathless and flushed, they were all laughing so hard it echoed through the park.
Taeri and Taehyun flopped to the grass, victorious.
Taehyungie collapsed beside them, breath uneven, hair falling over her face. Jungkook knelt beside her with a water bottle, handing it to her with a small grin.
She took it silently. Their fingers brushed again. This time, neither pulled away.
The twins were now busy playing nearby, picking up wildflowers and pretending to make crowns.
"Thank you," she said quietly, sipping from the bottle.
Jungkook's eyes softened. "You're welcome."
A long pause.
She looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. "I haven't laughed like that in a while."
"I haven't either."
Their eyes lingered.
The wind brushed through her hair and he had to stop himself from tucking it behind her ear. Her lips were parted slightly, her chest rising and falling. She looked like the version of Taehyungie he'd only seen in his dreams lately—relaxed, real, and glowing under sunlight.
Before he could say anything, Taeri screamed, "Daddy! Come help me make Mommy a flower crown!"
He grinned and stood. "Be right back."
And as she watched him run to their daughter, his hair messy and shirt slightly damp from running, her chest ached.
Because this—this version of Jungkook, laughing in the grass with their children—was the one that had always held her heart.
And maybe... still did.
Jungkook sat cross-legged on the grass, twining daisy stems and tiny wildflowers into a delicate, uneven crown. His tongue poked out the side of his mouth in concentration, fingers fumbling slightly with the fragile stems as Taeri supervised like a seasoned florist.
"No, Daddy—not too tight! Mommy's head is princess-sized!" she declared with complete authority.
Beside him, Taehyun giggled and flopped onto his back, arms outstretched as he basked in the sun like a tiny prince.
A little distance away, Taehyungie sat with her knees drawn up, watching the chaotic crafting session. Her long hair fluttered with the breeze, lips curled slightly—not quite a smile, but close.
Jungkook glanced up once, catching her gaze, and his chest thudded.
"Done!" he announced triumphantly, lifting the crown.
Taeri gasped. "It's sooo pretty!"
"Daddy is a flower fairy," Taehyun said in a singsong tone, and Jungkook huffed a laugh.
He stood and walked over, crown in hand, offering it toward Taehyungie.
"Here," he said softly. "For the queen of the park."
Taehyungie blinked. "No," she said quickly, her tone defensive. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Oh please," Jungkook teased, crouching beside her. "Just wear it for them."
"No."
"Mommyyyyy," the twins chorused, bounding over like two determined puppies.
Taeri tugged her mother's sleeve. "Please, Mommy! Daddy made it just for you!"
Taehyun jumped into her lap. "You'll look like a fairy! Like the ones in our books!"
Taehyungie sighed, visibly folding under their twin puppy eyes.
"Fine," she muttered.
Jungkook's lips twitched as he leaned in gently, placing the handmade crown atop her head. Some petals were crooked, and the daisies tilted to one side—but it suited her in a way that made his heart ache.
Taehyungie rolled her eyes.
But the twins gasped in wonder.
"You look like a princess," Taeri whispered, clasping her tiny hands.
Taehyun nodded fervently. "No—a queen! You're the prettiest!"
And for a second, Taehyungie let herself smile. Just a small one.
Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off her.
The way the crown sat against her dark hair, the soft pink flowers brushing her temples, the barest smile curving her lips—she looked surreal. Like something out of a dream, so gentle and so far away all at once.
He wanted to reach for her.
But he didn't.
Because somewhere deep inside, he knew he'd already crossed too many lines.
Not far away...
A figure crouched behind a line of hedges several meters away, hidden beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
They didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Only watched—eyes sharp behind mirrored lenses. The camera in their hands clicked once, then again.
Click.
Click.
Shot after shot.
Jungkook. Taehyungie. The twins. The flower crown.
The figure lowered the camera, checking the shots. Their face remained impassive, unreadable.
And then, with the silent grace of a shadow, they turned and melted away between the trees—vanishing into the hush of summer leaves as if they were never there.
Taehyungie let the twins fawn over her a few minutes longer, even allowing Taehyun to tuck another daisy behind her ear. She avoided Jungkook's gaze—especially when she caught the warmth in it.
"We should get going soon," she said, her voice too even.
"Five more minutes!" Taeri begged, now trying to chase a butterfly.
Taehyungie didn't argue. She simply sat down again, smoothing her skirt. Jungkook stood nearby, watching her from the corner of his eye, his hands in his pockets.
The flower crown slipped slightly on her head. She didn't fix it.
Jungkook did. Their eyes met.
Brief.
And burning.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 32: Threat
Chapter Text
The sun had dipped low, staining the Parisian sky in swirls of honey-gold and rose. The park's laughter had faded behind them as Jungkook carefully buckled the twins into their seats in the back of the car. Taeri was already nodding off, her small fingers still gripping a blade of grass from her butterfly chase. Taehyun had his head tipped sideways, mouth parted slightly in the quiet snore of a child deep in post-play exhaustion.
Taehyungie slid into the passenger seat with a sigh, the flower crown still perched a little awkwardly on her head. She didn't take it off.
Jungkook took the driver's seat beside her and started the engine. The gentle hum of the car filled the space between them, a strange silence stretching and folding itself around their hearts.
Soft classical music played through the stereo, wrapping around them like a velvet ribbon—light piano notes, too fragile to pierce the tension, yet too lovely to ignore.
Jungkook's fingers flexed on the steering wheel. His eyes flicked to her every few minutes. She hadn't said a word since they left the park.
Taehyungie was staring out the window, her profile etched with moonlight. The streetlamps cast shadows that danced across her cheekbone, and the flower crown shifted gently with each bump in the road.
She looked like poetry—half-written, unreadable.
"Are you cold?" Jungkook asked quietly, breaking the silence without looking at her.
Taehyungie shook her head. "No."
A beat.
Then Jungkook spoke again, voice softer, tentative.
"They looked so happy."
She didn't answer, but her lips twitched—maybe a smile, maybe a sigh.
Taehyun mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. Jungkook glanced back briefly before refocusing on the road.
The silence pressed in again, only this time it felt thicker—charged.
Jungkook's voice dipped lower, almost a whisper. "You looked beautiful. In the flowers."
Taehyungie finally turned to look at him. His breath caught. She didn't speak.
Didn't need to.
Because her eyes—dark, deep, unreadable—were filled with too many things. Regret. Memory. Longing. Fear.
The song shifted.
Jungkook's hands tightened on the wheel.
He wanted to say more—about the way her laughter in the park reminded him of their youth, about how he'd do anything to deserve this moment again.
But he didn't.
Because she hadn't taken the flower crown off.
And that said enough for now.
They arrived at the penthouse just as the sky darkened fully, the streetlamps casting an amber glow across the driveway.
Jungkook parked the car with a soft exhale, glancing at the rearview mirror where the twins remained asleep, their heads resting on each other's shoulders. He stepped out first and carefully lifted them both, each one draped over his strong arms like the delicate dreams they carried. Taehyungie trailed behind, carrying their small basket of snacks and leftover ribbons from the park.
But as they approached the entrance, a figure leaning against the side of the building straightened.
Taehyungie paused.
The light above the entrance illuminated his face, and her eyes widened faintly in recognition.
"Hyunjae?" she breathed, a small, surprised smile lifting her lips.
The man smiled broadly and walked over. "Taehyungie! I knew that was you—God, I thought my eyes were playing tricks." His voice was light but touched with something close to relief, even a tinge of bitterness. "You just vanished one day. No goodbye. Not a word."
Jungkook, standing with his children still gently asleep on his shoulders, shifted slightly. Something in the easy familiarity between them, the way Taehyungie smiled at the man like an old warmth had just knocked on her door, made his stomach twist.
Hyunjae moved forward and without hesitation pulled Taehyungie into a hug. She chuckled softly, patting his back, and Jungkook's gaze dropped to the pavement.
When they pulled apart, Hyunjae's eyes scanned her face, then moved to Jungkook, and then to the sleeping twins.
"Wow..." he said, walking closer. "They've grown so much. They're adorable." He gave a low, affectionate coo as he reached toward one of the twins' soft cheeks.
Jungkook instinctively stepped back half a pace, jaw tightening.
Hyunjae blinked and laughed awkwardly, holding up his hands in surrender.
"Sorry, didn't mean to overstep."
He turned to Taehyungie again. "Is Jiminie still around? That girl still owes me that chicken recipe she kept teasing me with."
Taehyungie grinned. "She's around. With her boyfriend now, actually."
"The same one she used to brag about?" he feigned a dramatic gasp, running a hand through his hair.
Taehyungie laughed and nodded. Jungkook didn't.
Hyunjae's gaze flicked back to him, more direct this time.
"And... you are?" he asked casually, offering a hand.
Jungkook adjusted his hold on his children and gave a short nod. "Jungkook."
There was a beat.
Taehyungie hesitated. Then, softly: "He's... the twins' father."
Hyunjae's expression shifted.
"Ah," he said. And then, without thinking, his brow lifted and the words slipped:
"The one who left you?"
Silence.
Taehyungie's expression didn't change. She didn't answer. Just lowered her gaze, her silence a quiet confirmation.
Jungkook swallowed thickly, throat tightening around air that felt too sharp to breathe. His arms felt heavier. He couldn't look at her. Couldn't speak.
Hyunjae looked between them, clearly sensing the tension.
"Well..." he muttered, backing away slightly. "Didn't mean to pry. Just surprised, that's all." Then he smiled at Taehyungie again. "You look really beautiful, by the way. I'm glad I saw you." His tone softened. "I'll come by soon... see the kids properly."
Taehyungie nodded politely. "Of course."
Hyunjae waved and disappeared into the night, leaving them standing in an echo of everything unsaid.
The ride up was wordless.
Taehyungie stood beside Jungkook, eyes fixed on the elevator doors. Her hands were trembling again, gently clutching the strap of her bag. Jungkook didn't speak, his mind replaying the question: "The one who left you?" — over and over, like a wound that refused to scab over.
The twins stirred slightly against his shoulders as the lift dinged open.
Jungkook walked ahead, quietly moving to the twins' room. He laid them down with reverent care, brushing a strand of hair away from Taeri's forehead, tucking Taehyun in more securely. He stood there for a moment longer, watching them breathe peacefully.
Taehyungie entered the living space, setting the picnic basket on the kitchen island.
Silence stretched between the rooms like a tightrope.
She stared down at the crown of daisies still on the counter, the edges wilting slightly from the sun. She didn't touch it.
Jungkook came out minutes later, his eyes flicking to her. She was facing away.
The air was thick with weight.
But no one spoke.
Not yet.
The quiet hum of the refrigerator and the distant city sounds were the only things filling the room.
Her shoulders were tense, her hands resting on the edge of the marble, knuckles pale from the pressure.
Jungkook lingered by the hallway, watching her.
He didn't know where to begin.
"Taehyungie..." he said gently.
She flinched — barely, but he saw it.
"I didn't know he knew you that well," Jungkook added, voice low, careful.
"He lived next door," Taehyungie replied without turning around. Her voice was steady, too steady. "He used to help carry my groceries when I was pregnant. Walked me to the pharmacy when I couldn't sleep and needed something for the nausea. He even came to my baby shower. The one Jiminie threw."
A bitter smile touched her lips, though he couldn't see it.
"I see," Jungkook murmured, heart twisting.
"And yeah," she added after a beat, finally turning to face him. Her gaze pinned him where he stood. "He's the one who watched me cry in the hallway when Jiminie leaves for work."
Jungkook's face tightened. "Taehyungie—"
"Do you know what it felt like?" she cut in, crossing her arms tightly. "To keep the door open just a little longer every night, hoping you'd knock?"
He took a step closer. "I know. I was—"
"Scared?" she finished for him. "So was I. But I didn't run. You did."
Silence again.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You left me to break... and I did."
Jungkook closed his eyes briefly, jaw clenched.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
"You keep saying that," she said, eyes glinting. "But sorry doesn't undo anything. Sorry didn't hold me through labor. Sorry didn't hear them cry the first time. Sorry didn't pick up when I was alone and bleeding and scared."
He looked away.
"I never stopped loving you, Taehyungie," he whispered, like a confession that burned on the way out.
Her breath hitched.
" I didn't think I was enough," he said, voice cracking. "I was young and afraid and full of guilt. I looked at you — glowing, strong, so damn beautiful — and I didn't know how I could ever deserve you."
"You don't," she said quietly, but the venom had dulled.
There was silence again.
Then—
"I hated you for a long time," she added, her eyes wet again. "Every milestone, every night the kids asked why their dad wasn't around — I hated you."
Jungkook took another slow step toward her, and this time she didn't move away.
His hand reached out, hovering for a moment, then gently closed over her wrist.
"Then let me start with this," he whispered. "Let me hold that ache with you."
Her breath shuddered. And though she didn't move, she didn't pull away either.
They stood there, raw and open — not healed, not fixed, but finally seen.
Jungkook's fingers rested lightly around her wrist — not pulling, not demanding. Just there. Steady. Warm.
And for a second, that warmth seeped into her skin, a quiet contrast to the storm in her chest.
She finally looked up at him.
"Do you think flowers and dinners and soft apologies erase everything?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Do you think just being here now... fixes what you broke?"
"No," Jungkook said honestly, gently. "But I'm not trying to erase it. I just want to hold it with you. The pain. The past. All of it. I want to stand in it, if that's what it takes."
Her eyes filled again. Not tears of anguish — not anymore. They were tears of exhaustion, of someone who had carried too much for too long.
And maybe — just maybe — she didn't want to carry it alone anymore.
"I don't know if I can let you in," she whispered, her voice a tremble of truth.
"Then just let me stand here," Jungkook murmured. "Just like this. Until you figure it out."
A long beat passed.
Taehyungie looked down at their joined hands. Her fingers twitched, uncertain, caught between instinct and memory. And then, slowly — painfully — she turned her hand in his. Letting her fingers lace between his.
Jungkook's breath caught.
It wasn't forgiveness.
But it was something.
"Thank you," he said quietly, reverently.
Taehyungie blinked, lips parted, like she hadn't realized what she'd just done. Her voice was soft, confused. "I don't know why I did that."
He gave a small, crooked smile. "Maybe you're tired of hating me."
A weak huff of a laugh escaped her. "Don't push it."
"I'm not," he said. "Just... letting myself hope a little."
She looked away, blinking quickly, then gently pulled her hand free. "I need to check on the twins."
Jungkook nodded, stepping back with quiet respect. She turned to walk toward the hallway, but paused, one foot lingering.
"Jungkook?" she said, without turning.
"Yeah?"
"I didn't wear the crown just for the twins," she said quietly. "I wore it because... you made it."
Then she disappeared down the hall before he could respond — but the slight hitch in her voice, the softness in her words, wrapped around him like a balm.
And for the first time in a long time, Jungkook felt like he had been given permission to hope.
The sunlight spilled into the penthouse in golden ribbons, curling through the gauzy curtains and pooling on the marble floors. It was still early — the city was only beginning to stir, but inside, soft laughter echoed through the halls.
Taeri's giggle was the first sound Taehyungie heard as she blinked awake.
Her eyes adjusted slowly, and for a moment, she just lay there, tangled in the soft sheets, listening. She could hear the twins running — or rather, trying to run quietly — down the hall.
And then came his voice.
Jungkook.
Gentle. Playful. "No no, Taehyun-ah, you're putting your shirt on backward again—hey, let's fix your hair before you both go outside looking like chaos."
A sleepy smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
She sighed, sitting up and pushing her tangled hair back. The ache in her chest was still there — the weight of everything unsaid, undone, unfixed — but it wasn't suffocating this morning.
It was... quieter.
She got out of bed, padded barefoot to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back — tired eyes, soft lips, faint blush on her cheeks.
And the flower crown sat on the nightstand.
She didn't put it back on. But she didn't put it away either.
When she entered the kitchen, the sight that greeted her made her pause in the doorway.
Jungkook was standing at the stove, hair still tousled from sleep, wearing a white shirt that clung slightly to his back as he flipped pancakes. Taeri was on a stool, watching with wide eyes, while Taehyun sat on the counter dramatically chewing a grape.
It was domestic. Soft. Painfully intimate.
Jungkook turned, sensing her. Their eyes met.
"Morning," he said quietly.
"Morning," she replied, brushing her fingers over her wrist where he'd held her last night.
"Want coffee?" he asked, already reaching for her mug — her mug, the one she always used.
She nodded, walking over slowly, heart thudding. "Thanks."
The kids were excited. Taeri launched into a story about a dream she had where she and her twin turned into kittens. Taehyun added that they defeated a giant broccoli monster.
Taehyungie chuckled. "That's very specific."
"We're brave," Taeri declared proudly.
"You get that from me," Jungkook teased, ruffling her hair. She beamed.
Taehyungie stared at him — shirt rumpled, eyes soft, smile crinkling his cheeks — and her chest clenched. It wasn't fair how easily he slipped into this. How easily they did.
She sipped her coffee, fingers trembling just slightly.
"Do you have work today?" Jungkook asked, cautious, glancing at her over his shoulder.
"No," she murmured.
A pause.
"Do you... want to go to the park again? Just for an hour. With the kids. If you feel like it."
Taehyungie looked down at her coffee. The rim of the cup was warm. Her stomach fluttered — not in the sweet, teenage way it once had. This was something more grown, more fragile.
She nodded.
"Okay. Let's go to the park."
Jungkook smiled — soft and slow. "We'll make a memory."
And she didn't let herself smile back. But something in her eyes sparkled like she already was.
--
The twins were still bouncing off the walls.
Even after hours at the park — tag, and a mini-picnic under the shade — Taehyun and Taeri had energy to power a small city. They raced down the hallway with matching shrieks, a blur of pastel shirts and giggles.
Taehyungie barely had her heels off when she called out, "No running inside!"
"Sorry, mama!" they chorused, not slowing down one bit.
She sighed, shaking her head with a fond smile as she gathered the scattered juice boxes from their outing and padded into the kitchen.
The crown Jungkook made still rested on the console table. Slightly crushed, but still pretty. The thought of it made her lips twitch.
She was halfway through taking out ingredients from the fridge — rice, eggs, scallions, leftover chicken — when she sensed him behind her.
"Need help?" came Jungkook's voice.
She didn't turn. "Do you even know how to cook?"
"I do, actually." He stepped beside her, grabbing a chopping board. "You've just never given me the chance."
Taehyungie glanced at him. "I've seen you burn instant noodles, Jungkook."
"That was one time—and the fire alarm was too sensitive."
She snorted. "Right." He smirked. "Watch me redeem myself."
The kitchen filled with soft, domestic noise — knives against boards, the sizzle of oil, the twins' laughter echoing faintly from the living room as they played with their toy blocks.
Jungkook was in charge of the chicken — pan-frying it carefully while sneaking glances at Taehyungie, who moved with graceful precision as she whisked eggs for the fried rice.
"You still do that thing," he said quietly.
She looked up. "What thing?"
"That little hum when you're cooking. You always did it when you were focused."
Taehyungie paused, caught off guard. "...I didn't even notice."
He smiled faintly. "I did."
A silence stretched for a beat.
"You remember a lot," she said softly.
"I never stopped remembering," he admitted.
Their eyes met — not for long, just a few seconds. But it was enough for the air between them to shift again, pulled taut with unsaid things.
She broke it first, tossing the eggs into the hot pan. "You're overcooking the chicken," she said flatly, even though it wasn't.
Jungkook chuckled, flipping it anyway. "Nice save."
Taehyungie turned her back to him to hide the way her lips twitched.
"Do you remember that time we tried to make kimchi pancakes and almost burned down my house?" Jungkook asked suddenly.
Taehyungie blinked. "You mean when you thought it was smart to use two hotplates at once and nearly set the curtains on fire?"
"I was trying to impress you!" he said, mock-offended. "You were filming me."
She laughed, the sound escaping before she could control it. "You were wearing a bandana like a cooking show host."
"Still my best look."
They both chuckled, and something softened between them.
For a second, it felt like old times. Like the world hadn't fallen apart, like hearts hadn't broken. It was just them. Cooking. Laughing. Living.
And Jungkook, who hadn't stopped looking at her, finally said in a low voice, "I missed this."
Taehyungie's hands stilled on the spatula. Her smile faltered. She looked away. "...Don't."
"I'm not trying to ruin it," he added gently. "Just... let me miss it. Let me say it, at least."
She didn't answer.
When lunch was ready — fried rice, crispy chicken, and little fruit cups — the twins came running in, noses twitching with excitement.
"Mamaaaa! It smells so good!"
"Daddy helped too," Taehyun declared, like it was shocking.
"You're eating all the chicken I made," Jungkook warned playfully, tickling him as he lifted him into his booster seat.
Taehyungie smiled quietly as she laid out napkins. The table felt fuller. The room warmer.
And as they all sat down together, her eyes briefly met Jungkook's over the plates.
This wasn't forgiveness.
But it was something.
A beginning... or maybe a return.
--
Later that afternoon...
The twins were down for their nap, soft breaths rising and falling as they lay curled like kittens beneath their pastel blankets. The quiet was a welcome contrast to the earlier chaos.
Taehyungie moved like a whisper through the living room, collecting empty cups and folding their tiny socks left on the couch. She glanced toward the balcony where Jungkook stood, on his phone in a hushed call, the city skyline casting light across his face.
He looked calm.
Almost content. And that scared her more than anything. She turned away.
Just as the doorbell rang.
The sound was sharp and sudden — slicing through the quiet.
Her brows furrowed.
Jungkook stepped inside at the same time, ending his call and blinking toward the door. "Are you expecting anyone?"
"No," Taehyungie murmured.
She walked ahead and opened it slowly—only to freeze in place.
A man stood there. Early thirties. Sharp suit. Quiet eyes. Holding a slim black envelope.
"Miss Kim Taehyungie?" he asked with the kind of voice that made her spine straighten.
Jungkook instinctively stepped beside her, his presence tense.
Taehyungie nodded slowly. "Yes?"
The man bowed politely and held out the envelope.
"I'm here on behalf of Madame Claire Laurent. She asked me to deliver this to you personally." His tone was clipped, professional. "She says it's urgent."
Taehyungie's fingers trembled slightly as she took the envelope. The man gave a final bow and left as quietly as he'd arrived — no further words, no explanation.
Jungkook's voice came after a second. "Claire...?" his eyes fixed on the sealed edge.
Taehyungie chest felt tight. Because Claire never sent letters.
She called. Or came in person. Or pulled strings across oceans. Never letters.
And the envelope was black. Like an omen. She opened it, hands shaking.
Jungkook watched in silence as her eyes moved over the letter. And then he saw it—how the color drained from her face.
Her lips parted.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no—"
"Tae," Jungkook stepped forward, grabbing her arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"
She clutched the letter, her body stiff. "Claire's in the hospital. There was... an attack. They think it was targeted."
Jungkook's breath caught. "What?"
"They said—" her voice broke, "—they found a note. My name was on it."
A chill moved through the room.
Jungkook immediately pulled her into his arms, but her body was already trembling, and her mind somewhere far away.
"I have to go," she whispered. "I have to see her. I have to—Jungkook, the kids—what if—"
"We'll protect them," he said instantly, holding her tighter. "I swear, nothing's going to happen to you. Or them."
She didn't cry.
She just stood there, the paper crushed in her fist, and Jungkook's arms around her, the weight of the past and future pressing down on them both.
--
Hôpital Saint-Louis.
The doors to the hospital part open with a hiss, and Taehyungie steps through. Her heels click against the marble floors—sharp, measured, steady—but beneath the tailored coat, her hands are trembling slightly in her pockets.
The scent of disinfectant hits her first. Then the chill of sterile air-conditioning. Then the distant beep of heart monitors.
The elevator ride feels too fast. Too slow. Too heavy. As the doors open to Claire's floor, Taehyungie takes a breath and wills herself to move forward. VIP room 506. She spots the number at the far end of the hall.
Each step echoes like it's counting down to something irreversible.
Claire lies on the hospital bed, her silver hair splayed against the pillow like silk. Bruises mark her porcelain skin, and her arm is hooked up to an IV. But her eyes—those clear, fierce eyes—flicker open the moment Taehyungie steps in.
"Ah... there's my girl," Claire croaks softly.
Taehyungie rushes to her, kneels beside the bed, and lets out a quiet sob she's been holding in for hours.
"I'm here. I'm right here, maman," she whispers, clutching Claire's frail hand.
Jungkook leans against the kitchen island, still barefoot, wearing a soft black t-shirt and sweats. Taehyun is crouched behind the couch, holding a plastic sword, and Taeri is seated on a pillow fort, clutching a stuffed unicorn.
"Sir Daddy," Taehyun calls out with a solemn voice, "we are ready for the battle of the century."
Jungkook straightens, trying to match their drama. "Sir Daddy reporting for duty!"
Their laughter peals through the penthouse, bright and chaotic. After a round of "pillow battle," they collapse in a giggling pile on the rug.
Eventually, Jungkook coaxes them to the kitchen, giving them tiny aprons.
"Okay, chefs," he grins. "Mama will be hungry when she comes back, yeah?"
Taeri squeals. "Let's make pancakes!"
Taehyun claps. "And eggs!"
Jungkook lets them stir the batter while he keeps a steady eye on the stove. Every now and then, he glances toward the front door—thinking about Taehyungie. Wondering is Claire is okay. Wondering if SHE's okay. Missing her.
--
Claire's voice is fragile, but she still holds that unshakable grace that once made the entire Parisian fashion world bow to her.
"I shouldn't have gone to the atelier alone," she murmurs. "But I never imagined someone would try to silence me."
"You almost died," Taehyungie chokes, brushing a hand over her mentor's hair. "Don't ever do that to me again."
Claire smiles faintly. "I raised you to be fierce, not sentimental."
"I can be both," Taehyungie replies, kissing the older woman's hand.
There's a beat of silence, warm but heavy.
"Does he know?" Claire finally asks, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Taehyungie looks away, cheeks flushed. "Yeah, he decided to take care of the kids."
Claire nods knowingly. "And are you... forgiving him?"
Taehyungie blinks down a tear. "I don't know. But he's trying."
"Then let him," Claire whispers. "Love doesn't always come clean. Sometimes it comes crawling back through fire."
Dinner is halfway done. Jungkook sits the twins at the island and plates tiny pancakes with strawberries on top. He glances at the clock.
Still no text.
He looks at the twins—both messy-haired, dressed in their pajamas, one with syrup on their nose—and he smiles.
"Mama's going to freak out when she sees this mess," he teases.
Taeri lifts her hands, proud. "But she'll be happy!"
Jungkook pauses.
Yeah. He thinks she will be.
Taehyungie sits close beside the bed, her hand still encasing Claire's fragile one. The warmth between them is silent, a language they both understand without needing to speak.
Claire slowly shifts, adjusting the pillow behind her back, her bones aching with every movement. Yet her eyes... her eyes are as sharp and unyielding as ever.
"Taehyungie," Claire murmurs softly, her voice like worn silk, "they didn't come to steal, or rob, or frighten me."
Taehyungie's eyes narrow, confusion turning to dread. "What do you mean?"
Claire lifts her gaze to the flat screen mounted on the beige wall. The news anchor's voice is muffled, but the headline is unmistakable:
BREAKING: Attempted Attack on Fashion Mogul Claire Laurent Sparks Investigation
Photos of Claire on a stretcher, grainy security footage, and a clip of reporters outside the hospital loop in the background.
"They came for me, darling. They knew who I was. What I meant to you." Claire's voice hardens, even as her hands tremble slightly. "It wasn't a robbery. They were trying to send a message."
Taehyungie's breath hitches. "A message...? From who?"
Claire's lips pull into a bitter smile. "Enemies, rivals. Haters who watched you rise. Those who think you're too loud, too defiant. That you forgot your place."
"No," Taehyungie whispers. "No, this—this is my fault."
"Stop," Claire cuts gently but firmly, reaching to cup Taehyungie's cheek. "It's not your fault I love you like my own. It's not your fault you carry brilliance in your blood. People hate what they can't control."
Taehyungie's lashes flutter, tears threatening.
"I should've never left you that day," she whispers, her voice frayed with guilt. "If I'd gone with you—"
"I'm alive, aren't I?" Claire interrupts, a teasing lilt in her tone despite everything. "Even if I look like a bruised apple."
A light chuckle escapes them both. It breaks the heaviness just enough. But the worry remains, clinging like mist.
Taehyungie looks up again. "Jungkook's already asked someone to investigate. His team is on it."
Claire's brows lift, surprise touching her expression. "Really?"
Taehyungie nods slowly a bit shy. "He didn't even wait. As soon as he heard."
Claire's smile softens. "So he is trying."
A knock at the door draws their attention, and the attending doctor steps in—young, poised, clipboard in hand.
"Pardon my intrusion," he says with a polite nod. "But I have good news."
Both women sit straighter.
"Ms. Laurent," he continues, "your vitals have stabilized beautifully. We'll run one more scan later this evening, but if all looks good, we'll discharge you by tomorrow morning."
Claire exhales in relief. "Finally. These walls are terribly unstylish."
The doctor laughs. "We'll make sure your next visit is more decorative." ( A/N: What do you mean Doc. ?💀👀)
Once he leaves, Taehyungie lets out a long breath.
"I'll prepare the guest room," she says, but Claire shakes her head.
"No. I'll stay at the mansion. There's staff there. You—you stay with your family."
Taehyungie looks down, conflicted.
Claire's eyes gleam knowingly. "You've built your own world now, ma chérie. And if that boy is willing to fight for it... maybe you should let him."
Taehyungie blinks back emotion, voice tight. "It still hurts."
"I know," Claire murmurs. "But maybe love is meant to ache before it feels like home."
--
The soft click of the penthouse door echoed gently as Taehyungie stepped inside.
She closed it quietly behind her, leaning against the frame for a moment, her eyes fluttering shut. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. The sterile smell of the hospital still clung to her, mingling with the lingering scent of Claire's perfume that had settled in the folds of her coat. She felt like she hadn't exhaled since the moment Claire admitted she'd been targeted.
Her heart ached. Not just from fear—but from the way the world kept testing the ones she loved.
She moved deeper into the living room, each step heavy, her heels soundless against the polished wood. The lights were dimmed, casting a soft amber glow across the space. The television was off, and the silence was tender, not hollow.
Then she heard it.
Soft laughter. A gentle squeal.
She turned the corner, and there they were.
Taehyun was half-asleep on the couch, one of Jungkook's sweatshirts swallowing his tiny frame. His messy hair stuck up in every direction, and a plush bunny was clutched tight to his chest. Taeri sat cross-legged on the floor in one of her mother's oversized scarves, wrapped around her like a royal cape, her hands in the air as she narrated a story to Jungkook.
Jungkook.
He was sitting cross-legged too, still dressed in his dark jeans and white shirt from earlier, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the veins in his forearms. A crown of crayon drawings sat on his head—clearly Taeri's doing—and he was laughing in that soft, reserved way he did when he wasn't trying to impress anyone.
He looked up first.
His gaze met hers and softened instantly. "You're back," he said, voice quiet and careful, like he wasn't sure what version of her he was greeting.
Taehyungie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah."
Taeri gasped and jumped to her feet. "Mama!"
Taehyungie dropped to her knees, just in time for Taeri to throw her arms around her neck. She inhaled her daughter's baby shampoo, her heart clenching so tightly it hurt.
"I missed you," Taeri whispered.
Taehyungie smiled, her eyes glistening. "I missed you more, petal."
Taehyun stirred on the couch and blinked drowsily. "Mama?"
"I'm here, baby," she said gently.
Jungkook had already risen and lifted their son in his arms before he could fall. He held him with ease, like second nature now. Taehyungie glanced up at him, their eyes locking for a breath longer than necessary.
"Claire's okay," she said quietly, more for him than the kids. "She'll be discharged tomorrow."
Jungkook nodded. "That's good. Really good."
Taehyungie glanced down as Taeri reached up, patting her cheeks as if trying to check if she was real.
"Are you sad, mama?" the little girl asked, noticing the faint shadows under her mother's eyes.
Taehyungie shook her head. "Not when I'm here with you."
Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he moved to the hallway, gently placing Taehyun in his bed. When he returned, he stood behind Taehyungie for a moment, watching her cradle Taeri, humming something soft under her breath.
Then, she stood and set Taeri down. "Off to bed, princess."
"But I wanna stay with you."
"You'll be with me tomorrow," Taehyungie whispered, kissing her forehead.
When both kids were finally tucked in, the apartment fell into a new silence. One that lingered with unspoken things.
Taehyungie moved into the kitchen to make tea, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the cabinet.
Jungkook came to stand beside her, closer than he usually dared.
"She really means that much to you, doesn't she?" he asked.
"She saved me," Taehyungie murmured, not turning to face him. "When no one else even tried to."
Jungkook swallowed. "I'm trying now."
"I know," she whispered.
Their shoulders brushed. And it was that simple, wordless contact that made her lean ever so slightly toward him. Just enough to breathe him in.
Jungkook didn't speak. He only reached forward and gently helped her pour the water, his hands steadying hers.
Taehyung finally turned her head and looked up.
His eyes were soft.
And hers, weary.
But in the spaces between all that silence, there was something else.
Healing.
--
The morning air in Paris was fresh and mellow, streaming softly through the high windows of the VIP hospital room. Golden sunlight kissed the edge of the couch where Jungkook sat, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. He was dressed immaculately despite the early hour—black slacks, a cream sweater layered under a tailored overcoat. His hair, tousled but elegant, caught the light as he looked up from his phone.
Taehyungie emerged from the private dressing room with Claire beside her, the older woman leaning lightly on her arm.
"You look beautiful," Jungkook said quietly, rising to his feet as they approached.
Claire let out a soft scoff. "You charmer. This dress is a week older than your children."
Taehyungie laughed under her breath, gently adjusting the scarf around Claire's neck. "It still suits you better than it ever suited the runway."
Claire raised a brow, but her lips curled with warmth. "And you still know how to flatter an old woman."
"She's not lying," Jungkook added with a slight bow of his head, a subtle smile dancing at the corner of his lips. "You look every bit the legend you are."
Claire narrowed her eyes playfully, then coughed softly and turned toward the waiting nurse who offered her discharge documents. Taehyungie stayed close, ever-watchful, her hand occasionally brushing the small of Claire's back as she made sure she didn't stumble.
Behind them, Jungkook moved like a shadow—but a deliberate one.
He'd come in earlier that morning, before the sun had fully risen, after calling Jiminie to watch the kids for the day. He didn't announce it, nor ask for permission. Instead, he handled everything—quietly, respectfully, efficiently.
The bills had already been paid.
A sleek, fully tinted luxury car waited downstairs, outfitted with a private security staff Jungkook had personally vetted the night before. They were discreet but effective—posted casually in hospital-appropriate attire near the doors, their attention razor-sharp.
When Claire tried to argue about the bill—grumbling that she was a billionaire and didn't need help from a brooding CEO—Taehyungie only smiled and whispered, "Let him have this. You're important to him now."
That silenced Claire.
Jungkook stepped forward now, carefully reaching for Claire's coat. He helped her into it with a reverence that softened even the steeliest eyes.
"Thank you," Claire murmured, surprised. "You didn't have to do all this."
Jungkook met her gaze and spoke with a quiet earnestness. "You're family. You were there for Taehyungie. I'll never forget that."
Claire studied him for a long second, something flickering behind her tired eyes.
"I misjudged you," she finally said. "Not at first—but later. When you broke her heart."
Taehyungie shifted beside her, visibly uncomfortable. Jungkook bowed his head, accepting the sting without protest.
"But people grow," Claire continued softly. "And I see that now."
Jungkook looked up, lips parted as if to say something, but Claire waved him off with a flick of her fingers. "I'm not forgiving you. Not yet. That's not mine to give. But I can... appreciate your effort."
Taehyungie exhaled slowly, shoulders releasing tension she didn't realize she was holding.
"Come on," she said gently, brushing a few strands of hair behind Claire's ear. "Let's get you home."
They moved slowly toward the elevator. Jungkook hovered near but not overbearing, allowing Taehyungie to guide Claire while staying close enough to step in if needed.
As they exited the hospital, Claire's eyes widened a little at the scene outside. The luxury car gleamed in the sunlight. One of Jungkook's staff opened the door as if they were royalty. Pedestrians paused, double-taking at the subtle presence of security and the unmistakable poise of Taehyungie beside her mentor.
Claire laughed under her breath. "What is this, a royal procession?"
Taehyungie smirked. "Don't get used to it."
"You first," Claire teased.
Jungkook helped both women into the car, adjusting the seatbelt gently over Claire's shoulder with surprising care. When she gave him a look of mock suspicion, he only smiled and said, "You'd do the same for her, wouldn't you?"
Claire's expression softened. She didn't answer.
As the car began to move through the streets of Paris, Claire leaned back against the headrest, letting the tension drain from her shoulders.
Taehyungie sat beside her, watching her out of the corner of her eye, concern still etched in her gaze.
"Don't worry about me," Claire said eventually. "Whoever sent that threat—whether it was for me or for you—we'll handle it. Together."
Taehyungie's fingers trembled slightly in her lap. "You still think it was because of your haters?"
Claire hesitated for a moment, then looked out the window.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "But I'll find out. And from the look on your lover boy's face... so will he."
Taehyungie blinked. "He's not—"
"Taehyungie," Claire interrupted, turning her head with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence."
Taehyungie looked down at her hands, lips pursed, cheeks warm.
Jungkook said nothing from the front passenger seat, his reflection just barely visible in the partitioned glass. But he smiled faintly.
He didn't need to say anything.
--
After ensuring that Claire was comfortably settled into her mansion — tucked under silk throws with her tea steeping beside her and security stationed at every point of entry — Taehyungie finally allowed herself to exhale.
It had been a long morning. Longer than most.
Jungkook stood a respectful distance behind her as she leaned in to press a kiss to Claire's forehead, whispering a soft, "Rest well. Call me if you feel anything."
Claire, half-drowsy already under the comfort of her own home, merely nodded and murmured, "Go be with your babies."
With a last look, Taehyungie turned and walked back toward the car. Jungkook was waiting, holding the door open for her wordlessly. As she stepped in, she caught the subtle worry still lingering behind his gaze—but he didn't speak. He knew better than to force conversation when she was this worn down.
The ride back to the penthouse was quiet. Paris glimmered outside the windows—elegant and indifferent—but inside the car, a strange tenderness simmered just beneath the silence.
By the time they arrived, it was almost late afternoon. The sky had begun to blush with the first signs of evening, and a warm amber hue painted the marble of the penthouse lobby.
When the elevator doors slid open, Taehyungie was met with the sight of Jiminie curled on the sofa, one of Taeri's hair ribbons around her wrist, and her phone in hand. She perked up immediately, springing to her feet.
"Finally," Jiminie exhaled, pulling Taehyungie into a hug without waiting for invitation. "God, you look like a ghost."
"I feel worse," Taehyungie admitted, her voice cracking faintly as she buried her face in her best friend's neck for a second too long.
Jungkook quietly closed the door behind them.
"Are they okay?" Taehyungie asked softly, pulling back and glancing toward the hallway.
"They're fine," Jiminie nodded, brushing a strand of Taehyungie's hair behind her ear. "They had breakfast, watched two movies, and they're playing in their room now. Taehyun beat me at memory games three times, by the way."
Taehyungie let out a tired laugh, eyes already softening.
"I need..." she paused. "Could you stay a while longer? Just to keep an eye on them?"
Jiminie raised a brow. "Why? Where are you going?"
"Nowhere far," she murmured. "I just... need a moment. Maybe a bath. Maybe ten minutes of silence."
Jiminie studied her for a second—really studied her. The shadows under her eyes. The faint tremble in her fingers. The dull ache in her posture.
"Of course, I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere."
Taehyungie smiled, gratitude flashing through her features.
From behind, Jungkook's voice was quiet but steady. "I'll help set lunch while you rest."
Taehyungie glanced back at him, surprised. She wanted to say something—maybe "you don't have to" or "I'm fine"—but she didn't.
She simply nodded.
As Jiminie tiptoed toward the twins' room, a quiet hum filled the space. It was the sound of normalcy — faint giggles behind a door, the clink of kitchenware, and the rustle of someone who cared trying to make a meal feel like comfort.
Taehyungie took a slow breath, eyes landing on the soft glow of the city beyond the windows.
For a moment, everything felt strangely peaceful.
--
Taehyungie had barely kicked off her heels when her phone buzzed. She sighed, weary from the long day at the hospital and the conversations that left more questions than answers.
She picked up the phone, and when she saw the caller ID, her stomach fluttered.
Namjoon Oppa.
But it wasn't just him. She could hear another voice in the background — soft, teasing.
"Pick up, she's probably worried about you too."
Jinnie.
She smiled faintly, heart clenching.
"Hello?" she answered, sinking slowly onto the armrest of the couch, her voice tired but warm.
"Taehyungie," Namjoon's voice came through thick with worry, "are you okay? We saw the news. The hospital, the attack..."
"I'm fine," she assured quickly, though her voice trembled slightly. "It wasn't me. It was Claire. She was the target."
A gasp came from the background, Jinnie no doubt leaning in to listen. "Oh my God," she muttered. "Is she okay?"
"She will be. She's stable now. She's heavily protected in the mansion"
"Shit," Namjoon breathed out, a hand clearly raking through his hair. "That's... that's insane, Taehyungie. Do you know who did it?"
"No." Her voice dropped. "She said it might be one of her rivals. But the whole thing felt too calculated."
A long silence.
Then Namjoon asked gently, "Do you want me to come to Paris?"
Taehyungie blinked, moved by the offer.
"No," she said, after a beat. "You don't need to. Jungkook... he's already handling things. He assigned people, made sure Claire had security. I..." she hesitated, cheeks flushing even though they weren't in the same room. "I trust him. A little."
A small pause.
Then Jinnie's voice in the background: "Oho? What's this development?"
Namjoon didn't tease. His voice was quiet and serious.
"You gave him a chance?"
She hummed softly. "Just... one step at a time. For the twins. And maybe... maybe a part of me still believes in him. Or wants to."
Jinnie's voice softened, suddenly more emotional. "You've always had the softest heart, Taetae."
Namjoon sighed deeply, like the weight of it all was settling in his chest. "He's changed. I can see that. But Taehyungie... he still has to prove it. He doesn't just get your heart back because he wants it. He has to earn you again."
She closed her eyes, lips parting as her breath hitched.
"I know," she whispered. "And he's trying. I don't know where it'll go. But... it's different this time."
"We believe in you," Namjoon said quietly. "No matter what happens. Just don't lose yourself in it again."
"I won't," she promised. "Not this time."
"And the twins?" he asked, more gently now.
"They're fine," she smiled, softer now. "Still full of energy. They made me wear a flower crown at the park."
Namjoon chuckled lowly. "Good. They keep you grounded."
She nodded, even if he couldn't see it. "They're my anchor."
Jinnie's voice chimed in again. "Next time you video call, show us their faces. I miss them."
"I will. Soon."
They ended the call not long after, a little warmth restored in Taehyungie's chest, a little steadiness beneath her feet. Her world still trembled beneath uncertainty, but somehow... not all of it felt like it was falling apart.
Somehow, she felt like she wasn't alone.
--
The night outside was quiet, the Paris skyline glittering faintly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, but Jungkook's mind was far from still.
He paced near the window, one hand gripping the phone pressed to his ear, the other clenched at his side. The soft hum of Taehyungie's voice down the hall, checking on the twins, barely reached him.
A voice crackled through his earpiece — low, grave, almost apologetic.
"Sir... we finished sweeping the area. Surveillance, backdoor data, facial recognition... nothing."
Jungkook froze mid-step. "Nothing?" he repeated, his voice sharp and dangerous.
The agent on the other end hesitated. "It's like they were never there. No trace, no ID, not even a footprint outside the perimeter. Almost as if..."
He trailed off.
Jungkook's brow furrowed. "As if what?"
"...As if it was a prank. Or worse... a warning."
The words hung heavy in the air.
A muscle in Jungkook's jaw ticked. His heart gave a sharp thump, a stuttering ache against his ribs. A warning?
The thought of Taehyungie in that hospital room, of Claire hurt and smiling like it was nothing, of his children oblivious to the danger — it all slammed into him at once.
He ground his teeth. "And you're sure it wasn't a hired hit? No connection to any of Claire's rivals?"
"We checked. Every name. Even internationally. No pattern. The person just... came and vanished."
Silence.
Then Jungkook's voice dropped, cold and commanding.
"Find out who did this. I don't care what you have to do. I want names. I want motives. And I want to know how they slipped through our fingers."
The agent gave a curt, "Understood, sir," before the line went dead.
Jungkook slowly lowered the phone, his knuckles white from how tightly he'd been holding it. His reflection stared back at him from the darkened glass — sharp eyes, furrowed brows, shadows of sleepless nights under his lids.
Whoever had done this hadn't just sent a message to Claire.
They had sent it to him.
To the family he had just begun to piece back together.
And he wasn't going to sit still.
--
The grand gates of the Choi estate opened with silent reverence as Chairman Jeon Sangwoo's sleek black limousine pulled into the pristine driveway. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the cobblestone path, bathing the mansion in a golden hush — beautiful, but eerily quiet.
The chauffeur opened the door, and Sangwoo stepped out, composed in his tailored suit. His expression was neutral, yet his eyes held the weight of purpose. He hadn't visited this estate in years — not since the agreement had been set in stone. Now he came to undo it.
As he stepped into the marble foyer, the maids lined up in silent greeting, bowing low. The air was heavy, almost too still, and something in Sangwoo's gut twitched — a silence that wasn't peaceful, but mourning. A butler stepped forward and gestured politely.
"Chairman Jeon, the master is expecting you. This way, please."
Sangwoo nodded, following the butler down the hall of high ceilings and old portraits, each footstep echoing on the marble. Finally, he was led to the drawing room. The heavy oak door opened.
There, seated in a high-backed leather chair by the fireplace, was Chairman Choi.
He looked older. More tired. The book resting in his lap seemed forgotten, his fingers absently thumbing the same page.
But when he saw Sangwoo, a faint, weary smile lifted the corners of his lips.
"Sangwoo. It's been a while."
Sangwoo gave a respectful bow before taking the seat across from him. "Choi-ssi. Thank you for receiving me on such short notice."
"You didn't need to ask. Old friends don't need permission."
They sat in momentary silence, the air between them heavy with unsaid things. Finally, Sangwoo cleared his throat.
"I came... regarding the engagement between our children. Jungkook and Seoyoon. I've come to withdraw from it."
Chairman Choi's expression didn't shift for a long second. Then his lips parted slowly.
"There's no need to cancel it, Sangwoo..."
The older man blinked. "Why is that?"
Chairman Choi's gaze dropped, something fragile flickered in his eyes — not just tiredness, but devastation.
"Because Seoyoon is dead."
The words landed like a stone in Sangwoo's chest.
"What?" he whispered, sitting up straighter. "Dead?"
Choi nodded once, slowly. "It happened months ago. A car crash. Just outside of Milan. She was traveling alone... no one even knew she had left the country. I only found out when the embassy contacted me."
Sangwoo stared, his mouth slightly parted, struggling to make sense of it.
"She... was leaving?" he echoed, stunned.
Chairman Choi closed the book in his lap and placed it on the table.
"I don't know why. She didn't tell me where she was going or why. Just disappeared. And then..." His voice trailed off, and he looked away, jaw clenched, grief curling through every syllable.
"I'm sorry," Sangwoo said after a long pause. His voice was lower now, raw. "Choi-ssi, I... truly, I had no idea. I offer my deepest condolences."
The silence that followed was immense — two powerful men suddenly reduced to frailty by the absence of a daughter.
Sangwoo stood eventually, his heart tight in his chest. The agreement was void now. No words were needed to end it. Only grief remained.
As he exited the Choi mansion, the maids once again bowed low, but he barely saw them.
That strange, sickly feeling clawed deeper in his chest.
He thought it was sorrow. The heavy weight of hearing about Seoyoon's sudden death.
But something about it didn't sit right.
He stepped into his limousine, the door closing with a muted thud, and sank into the leather seat.
Outside, the Choi mansion stood dignified and sorrowful under the setting sun.
Inside his mind, a whisper of unease stirred.
--
Jungkook stood in the penthouse kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering faintly in the air. Morning sunlight filtered through the glass walls, painting warm streaks over the marble counter, but his expression was far from peaceful.
His phone buzzed in his hand.
Agent Eunwoo.
He answered immediately. "Talk." His voice was low, tense.
Eunwoo didn't waste time.
"We found something, but... you won't like it."
Jungkook's fingers tightened slightly around the phone. "Is it about the shooter?"
"Not directly. It's a connection. One we didn't expect."
He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Go on."
Woo's voice lowered a notch. "We traced a series of encrypted messages passed through a burner account the day of Claire's attack. It was routed through Milan and then rerouted again through Seoul."
Jungkook blinked, confusion settling in his chest.
"Milan?" he repeated slowly. "As in—?"
"Yes. Where Choi Seoyoon died months ago."
A strange silence settled between them.
Jungkook's breath stuttered. "You're saying the person who targeted Claire might be connected to Seoyoon's... death?"
Eunwoo hesitated. "We're not saying it outright, but the timing is suspicious. And the way both incidents were carried out — minimal trace, no clear motive, clean escape. It feels like a warning."
"A warning to who?"
Eunwoo exhaled. "That's what we're trying to figure out. Claire being targeted might've been about proximity to Taehyungie. But Seoyoon?" He paused. "She had no enemies, but she was linked to you... and your father."
Jungkook's heart dropped.
He pressed his hand against the counter, knuckles white.
"So this wasn't a random attack."
"Not likely. And there's more."
Jungkook's jaw clenched. "Speak."
"Chairman Jeon visited the Choi estate yesterday to cancel the engagement, Chairman Choi told him about Seoyoon's death."
Jungkook's pulse skipped, surprised by his father. He shakes his head, thats for another day.
"W- what did my father say?"
"He was shocked. But according to our surveillance on his exit, he looked... unsettled. Distracted. Not like a man mourning someone he barely knew."
Jungkook was silent for a long time. Then he muttered, "Send me the reports. All of them. Trace everything that passed through Milan in the last months. I don't care how deep you have to dig."
"Understood."
"And Woo..." Jungkook's voice turned darker, lower. "If this is a warning, I need to know who the hell is threatening my family."
Eunwoo nodded through the line. "We'll find them. But hyung..." he paused, "...you need to prepare. Because if this is connected to Seoyoon's death, you're already inside something bigger."
Jungkook hung up slowly.
The phone slipped from his hand and hit the counter with a soft thud.
He stood still.
In the kids room, the twins were still asleep.
And yet all Jungkook could hear... was the sound of a clock ticking.
Something was coming.
And this time, he couldn't afford to fail.
Taehyungie stood by the glass window, watching the fading sky over Paris — hues of orange melting into soft gray. She looked calm on the outside, her posture elegant as ever, but Jungkook could sense the weariness beneath her stillness.
"Taehyungie," he said gently, his voice careful.
She turned to him, her brows furrowed at the serious tone.
"Is something wrong?"
He nodded slightly and walked over, stopping a few steps from her. "I got another call from one of my agents."
Her eyes flickered with concern. "About Claire?"
"About everything," he said softly. "Claire was targeted, yes... but it wasn't just random. We're starting to suspect it might've been a warning."
Taehyungie's breath hitched.
"A warning?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Jungkook swallowed and chose his words carefully. "There were traces... details that suggest it could be tied to something bigger. Possibly connected to Seoyoon's death."
Taehyungie's eyes widened. "Seoyoon... she's dead?"
He gave a quiet nod. "A car crash. She was leaving the country in a rush. Months ago and no one knew why." he swallows a lump.
Taehyungie blinked, stunned. She didn't like the girl, but death... death felt like a heavy price.
Jungkook saw the tension in her shoulders and reached for her hand, gently wrapping his fingers around hers. "I didn't want to tell you everything. Not yet. I don't want to scare you, Taehyungie."
She looked at him, eyes glinting with a storm of emotion. "What aren't you telling me?"
He hesitated. "Just... trust me when I say I'll find whoever is behind this. I'll protect you. And the twins. Always."
She stared at him for a long moment — into the sincerity in his eyes, the way his thumb brushed soothing circles over the back of her hand, how he was holding her like she might vanish if he let go.
Something warm cracked through her guarded chest.
And before she could second-guess it, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Jungkook froze, breath catching as she pressed her face into his chest. Her arms were firm, clinging, as if she needed this — not for romance, not for nostalgia — but simply to feel safe. To feel held.
He exhaled slowly, then closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her in return.
He didn't kiss her temple, even though the urge sang through every cell of his body.
He didn't whisper her name, even though it ached on the tip of his tongue.
He just held her — gently, protectively, like she was his whole world.
Because she was.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 33: Beating hearts
Chapter Text
It's been two months.
Two months since the storm began to still — where the ache that once carved into Taehyungie's chest now softened, like ocean waves ebbing gently against the shore. Two months of gentle conversations and clumsy first steps. A month since she truly started letting her guard down, allowing Jungkook in again — not fully, not foolishly, but enough for him to see the woman behind the walls.
The twins were home on break now, filling the penthouse with chaotic joy. They dragged their parents into games, movie nights, picnics in the garden, and midnight cookie raids. And without meaning to, they kept bridging the broken halves of their family, piece by precious piece.
Claire was better too. They'd visited her just days ago, and she'd scolded Jungkook affectionately for fussing over her, while pulling Taehyungie into her arms like a mother shielding her child from the world.
Eunwoo had called again. Still nothing. No name, no trace. Just a ghost behind the sniper's scope. A warning, maybe. A threat. But Jungkook had told him to keep digging. He couldn't afford to be wrong when it came to their safety.
Now, evening wrapped the penthouse in a warm golden hush. The twins had finally fallen asleep in their little fortress of pillows after hours of playing astronauts, their soft breathing echoing from their room down the hall.
And for the first time in a while, the adults were left to themselves.
It had been Taehyungie's suggestion—shockingly so. After a long, tiring day at Maison Duval, she'd casually offered, "Want to watch a movie or something?" Her voice was light, almost testing, like she herself didn't believe the words tumbling from her lips. Jungkook had blinked at her before nodding, heart skipping a little.
"You... want to?"
"I'm exhausted," she smiled, setting down her tablet from Maison Duval's files, "but not enough to sleep yet. Come on. I need to turn my brain off."
Now, they sat side by side on the plush couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on Taehyungie's lap, warm lamplight gilding her hair.
They picked a random movie — neither of them really checking what it was.
It turned out to be a romantic comedy.
Light. Stupid. Funny.
And it made Taehyungie laugh.
A lot!
Her laughter rang through the living room like music, high and breathless, tears pooling in her eyes from a particularly ridiculous scene. Her signature boxy grin so wide her eyes nearly disappeared. She clutched her stomach at some scenes, giggling until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Jungkook sat beside her, completely captivated — not by the movie, but by her. Her laugh. Her joy. The way she tilted her head back and smacked his shoulder playfully as if she couldn't contain the happiness blooming inside her. It made his heart stammer, his breath falter.
God, he had forgotten how much he loved her laugh.
Her cheeks turned red from how hard she laughed,
He hadn't seen her like this in years.
So free.
So radiant.
And for a brief second, Jungkook forgot the years, forgot the pain, forgot the mistakes. All he saw was her—his Taehyungie.
A romantic moment began to unfold on-screen. The lead characters kissed under the stars, and Taehyungie's giggles faded into shy silence. She pulled her knees closer, cheeks pink, avoiding Jungkook's gaze with practiced ease. But something flickered in her eyes. Something soft. A memory perhaps. And then she smirked slightly, glancing at him.
"Hey... remember when you were thirteen, and you tried to kiss me at the summer festival behind the fireworks stand? You tripped on your own feet and almost head-butted me."
Jungkook groaned, already smiling. "Why would you bring that up?"
"Because it's hilarious," she grinned, nudging him, "you were all confident until you landed face-first into my shoulder. I had glitter on my nose for days because of your dumb spray paint."
He rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. "You still kissed me afterward, though."
"Pity," she teased, clearly lying.
She giggled again, voice fading as the air shifted, silence swelling between them. The moment stretched, the warmth deepened. Taehyungie's teasing faded into a curious hush, and she turned her head slightly to find Jungkook already watching her.
He wasn't laughing anymore. His gaze had softened—laced with wonder, longing, reverence. As if she wasn't just a person, but a miracle he'd never believed he'd be worthy of again.
"What?" she asked softly, almost breathless under the weight of his stare.
Jungkook didn't speak. He reached out, slow and trembling, his fingers brushing her cheek, thumb ghosting along her skin to sweep away a popcorn crumb. But once his hand touched her... he stilled. She didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Their eyes locked, electricity humming between them, delicate and charged.
The air shifted.
They didn't move, something held them there.
A silence bloomed. A heartbeat stretched.
And then... they both leaned in. As if pulled by a thread older than time, their lips met in a kiss that was quiet thunder. The popcorn bowl tumbled from her lap, scattering across the carpet, forgotten.
The kiss was slow at first. Gentle. Reverent. A brushing of souls through lips, a search for home in the shape of each other's mouths. Jungkook cradled her face in both hands, fingers trembling as he held her close. Taehyungie melted into him with a soft, vulnerable sigh, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They kissed like they were remembering. Like every touch had been carved in memory and every breath was a plea for more.
Jungkook's heart thundered as he deepened the kiss, lips parting to taste her—finally, after all this time. He shifted slightly, pulling her gently onto his lap. Her knees straddled his thighs, her hands burying in his hair as she hummed against his mouth.
There were no words. Only the press of bodies, the sync of heartbeats, and the aching relief of being in each other's arms again.
Taehyungie whimpered softly, and Jungkook's arms wrapped tighter around her waist. His thumb brushed her jaw, her cheekbone, her throat—like he was trying to memorize her all over again.
Their kiss turned slower again, almost painful in how deeply it ached. Tender. Longing. Like a wound being kissed closed.
When they finally pulled apart, they didn't move right away. Their foreheads rested together, breath mingling, eyes fluttering open.
Taehyungie's lips were swollen, her chest heaving gently. She stared at him—wide-eyed, stunned, trembling.
"Jungkook..." she whispered.
He didn't answer. He just closed his eyes, as if savoring her voice.
It was her who pulled away first, hands slowly detangling from his hair, eyes searching his with a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to affection. He let her go, no resistance—just the ghost of her warmth still in his hands.
The movie still played in the background. But in this moment, they were in a world of their own
But then Taehyungie whispered, breathless, almost shy: "You still trip when you kiss."
Jungkook chuckled quietly. "And you still pity me?"
She smiled... but didn't answer.
Because maybe, just maybe — there was no pity anymore.
Just a heart that hadn't stopped loving, waiting to be brave again.
--
The soft light of morning filtered through the wide windows of the penthouse, casting golden streaks over the marble floors and plush furniture. The entire space was still—quiet in the way early mornings are, touched only by the faint sound of birds outside and the gentle hum of the city waking beneath them.
Taehyungie stood by the kitchen island, her fingers wrapped around a warm mug of tea. She hadn't said much when she woke. The memory of the previous night burned quietly in the corners of her mind—the way his lips had moved with hers, the way her hands had unconsciously gripped his shirt, the way the bowl of popcorn had rolled onto the floor and neither of them noticed.
Her cheeks tingled just thinking about it. But what haunted her most was how natural it had felt.
She inhaled slowly, grounding herself.
"Morning," came Jungkook's soft voice.
She turned around slowly. He was leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, dressed in simple sweats and a t-shirt, his hair a disheveled mess of black curls and sleep. But his eyes—his eyes were alert and hesitant, searching hers for something, anything.
Taehyungie blinked, fingers tightening around the mug.
"Morning," she replied, voice soft.
A silence stretched between them—thick but not uncomfortable. He stepped closer. She didn't move away.
"I made you something," Jungkook said finally, motioning toward the counter. "I... uh, remembered you like fruit in the morning."
Taehyungie's gaze flicked to the bowl—cut strawberries, blueberries, and golden kiwi, all arranged meticulously, too neatly for it to be accidental.
Her lips twitched. "You remembered."
"Of course I did," he said, almost offended, then chuckled softly. "I remember everything, Taehyungie."
The way he said her name—it was too soft, too reverent.
She looked away first.
The kids were still sleeping, the house wasn't bustling yet, but she could already feel her emotions stirring under the surface.
Jungkook stepped forward, his hand brushing the edge of the counter near hers. Close. Not touching—but the air between them crackled.
About last night.
The words hung there unspoken.
"Taehyungie," Jungkook began, voice more serious now.
She looked at him again, lips parting slightly.
But before either could say more, the sound of little feet padding down the hallway interrupted them. A small yawn echoed, and then—
"Mamaaa... daddy..."
Taehyun.
"Looks like the royals are up," Taehyungie whispered with a smile, and the tension shattered like glass.
Jungkook smiled too, wide and warm, but his eyes still flickered with something deeper as he turned to greet their son.
The conversation they were about to have would have to wait. But both of them knew it was coming.
The air between them had changed—and neither of them was pretending otherwise anymore.
The sun had risen higher, flooding the penthouse with a comforting glow. Morning melted slowly into noon as the twins bounced around the living room, brimming with endless energy. Taehyungie, now fully awake, leaned against the wall with a fond smile tugging at her lips as she watched them argue about what cartoon to watch.
Taeri pouted dramatically, hands on her hips.
"But I want to watch the princess show!"
"No! Super Tiger Man wins!" Taehyun declared, clutching the remote protectively like it was his sword in battle.
Their bickering drew a laugh from Taehyungie, low and warm.
"Alright, alright—one episode each. But only if you promise to eat japchae for lunch."
The twins gasped and turned to her in unison.
"Can we really have japchae?! Please, mama, please!"
Their excitement made her laugh again, eyes twinkling. "Yes, yes. But only if you help clean your toys after."
The twins cheered, diving into the cushions as the cartoon started.
From the hallway, Jungkook entered slowly, hesitantly. He had just changed into fresh clothes, his hands still damp from splashing water on his flushed face minutes ago—an attempt to cool down his nerves that only worked halfway. His heart hadn't stopped fluttering since the kiss last night.
He bent down to grab the remote from where it had fallen during the twins' chaos, switching the channel to the requested cartoon. The children barely noticed him, too engrossed in the vibrant colors on the screen.
But Taehyungie did.
She turned her head slightly, gaze catching his. Her features were soft, relaxed, but something in her eyes sparked—a knowing warmth, a quiet acceptance.
Jungkook cleared his throat, standing straight again, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached her with quiet steps.
"I—" He started, voice low. "I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. For last night. I didn't mean to overstep or—"
He paused, his voice faltering, lips parting to continue but no words came.
"I know you're still... healing. I should've asked, or held back. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Ever."
Taehyungie said nothing for a moment, her gaze steady and unreadable. The silence stretched just long enough to make Jungkook's stomach twist.
But then, slowly, she stepped closer.
So close he could smell the soft floral scent of her shampoo. She tilted her head up, standing on her toes, her hand gently brushing against his arm for balance. And then—
She kissed his cheek.
A soft, tender press of lips against warm skin. Not hurried. Not hesitant.
His breath hitched, his body frozen except for the sharp thrum of his heart.
Taehyungie leaned in, her lips just near his ear now, and whispered, "I didn't push you away when you did it... because I liked it."
Then, as if she hadn't just set fire to every nerve in his body, she pulled back with a small, mischievous giggle, her eyes glittering like the stars in the midnight Paris sky.
And she walked off toward the kitchen, hips swaying in quiet confidence, calling out casually,
"Don't forget to help me cut vegetables. The twins are expecting japchae."
Jungkook stood there, stunned.
His boba eyes blinked wide, cheeks flushed deep red, and a helpless smile tugged at his lips. He let out a breathless chuckle, running a hand through his hair like he had no idea what to do with himself.
"She liked it?" he murmured to no one in particular, dazed.
Taeri peeked from the couch, her voice interrupting his stunned state.
"daddy, are you turning red?"
Taehyun joined in, laughing.
"You look like a tomato!"
Jungkook groaned, chuckling. But nothing could hide the quiet, growing joy spreading through his chest.
She liked it.
And maybe, just maybe, they were finding their way back.
Afternoon...
The kitchen was filled with the quiet clatter of bowls and the low hum of conversation from the living room. Jungkook stood by the counter, slicing vegetables with the kind of precision only a CEO-turned-lovestruck dad could possess. Taehyungie, meanwhile, was working on the batter, her sleeves rolled up and a playful glint in her eye as she whisked flour into a silky mixture.
Jungkook leaned over slightly to peek. "You sure you remember the right ratio?"
Taehyungie didn't answer right away. Instead, with a mischievous grin blooming across her lips, she dipped her fingers lightly into the flour bowl and, with a smooth flick, dabbed a spot of flour right onto the bridge of his nose.
Jungkook blinked. His brows lifted, expression caught between amusement and disbelief.
Taehyungie turned back to her bowl with faux innocence, lips twitching as she tried not to laugh.
He wiped his nose slowly with a napkin, eyes narrowing at the back of her head. "So that's how we're playing it?"
Taehyungie didn't respond. Which was, of course, a mistake.
Because she did it again.
Another dab—this time on his cheek.
Jungkook stared at her, deadpan. "Really?" Taehyungie shrugged, unable to hold in the snort that followed.
He nodded slowly, now suspicious. "Okay."
She reached for the bowl again—but he was ready this time. Before her fingers could even dip into the flour, Jungkook caught her wrist mid-air.
"Caught red-handed," he muttered, raising a brow, his expression smug.
Taehyungie's eyes widened slightly. "Uh-oh."
Then—without breaking eye contact—Jungkook reached into the flour bowl, grabbed a full handful, and grinned wickedly.
"No!" she shrieked, backing away. "Don't you dare!" But Jungkook had always been fast.
He chased her around the island, laughter erupting from both of them as Taehyungie squealed, ducking behind chairs and dodging flour death.
"You're crazy!" she laughed breathlessly.
Jungkook's body moved fast, cornering her near the pantry.
But before he could toss the white cloud in his hand, Taehyungie lunged forward and kissed him.
It was impulsive, breathless, and utterly disarming.
Jungkook froze.
Her lips were warm against his, soft and familiar. Time seemed to stop, the mischievous air between them replaced by something quiet and full. He stood there, stunned, heart thudding, eyes fluttering shut a beat later as he kissed her back—his grip loosening, hand hovering midair before slowly falling to his side.
Taehyungie's arms curled gently around his neck as she deepened the kiss, careful and tender, as though savoring the moment, anchoring herself in the weight of his presence.
And Jungkook kissed her like he'd been waiting for this—for her—for years.
Their lips moved slowly, lovingly, and she let out a soft hum, her fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. She reached up gently and managed to steal the flour bowl away from his other hand without breaking the kiss.
Just then, from the living room, a tiny voice rang out: "Why does it smell like Hyun's socks in here?!"
It was Taeri—deadpan, utterly unimpressed.
They both pulled away at once with a soft, audible chu, eyes wide.
Taehyungie gasped, giggling. "The sauce!"
She spun around and dashed to the stove, stirring frantically.
Jungkook blinked, still lost, stuck somewhere between the kiss and Taeri's savage honesty. He stood unmoving, blinking like someone who'd been dropped into a dream.
Taehyungie turned to glance over her shoulder and burst out laughing at his stunned expression. "Jungkook! The vegetables!"
"Oh—right!" he scrambled, rushing back to the cutting board in a daze, nearly slicing a pepper in the wrong direction.
She laughed harder. "You look like someone short-circuited your brain."
He didn't deny it. He only glanced at her, flushed and smiling.
"I think you just did."
--
The scent of sizzling japchae and stir-fried vegetables filled the penthouse, warm and comforting. The table had been set simply, but with care—placemats askew thanks to Taeri's "decorating," and two chopstick sets slightly mismatched because Taehyun insisted his set had to be "the red one, because it's fast like a racecar."
Taehyungie placed the final dish on the table just as Taeri peeked in, nose twitching at the smell.
"Food's ready!" she gasped, bolting for the dining area. "Mama made japchae, Hyunie!"
Taehyun came barreling after her, socks sliding on the marble floor. "Yay! I'm sitting next to Mama!"
"No! I want to sit next to Mama!" Taeri argued immediately, eyes narrowed.
Jungkook, walking in behind them with a pitcher of juice, chuckled under his breath. "How about one on each side?"
Both twins frown... then nodded reluctantly.
"Fine."
"Okay..."
Jungkook placed the juice down and glanced at Taehyungie, who was tying up her apron. Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, everything else fell away—the kids, the plates, the sizzling memories still echoing between their lips. She gave him a small smile, cheeks tinged with a quiet flush, and Jungkook's heart turned to honey.
He wanted to kiss her again.
Instead, he sat across the table and watched her like she hung the stars.
Lunch began in a flurry of chopsticks, slurping, and sauce stains. Taeri ended up with noodles in her hair—somehow. Taehyun spilled juice and tried to clean it up with a napkin... which made it worse. Taehyungie just laughed, fussing over them with such natural grace that Jungkook felt his chest tighten.
"Mama's food is the best," Taehyun declared with a full mouth, cheeks puffed like a squirrel.
"You didn't even chew properly," Taeri scolded. "Chew nicely or you'll choke and then we won't go to the park again!"
Taehyungie choked on a laugh. "Let's... not make lunch a battlefield, okay?"
"But Mama," Taeri whined with wide eyes, "can we go to the park tomorrow? You and Daddy can sit and smooch again while we play!"
Jungkook spluttered on his juice. Taehyungie froze.
"W-what? I--we didn't smooch," she said quickly, face flaming.
Taehyun tilted his head. " We saw, mama"
"Yeah, you looked like the princess kissing the prince in Rapunzel," Taeri added helpfully, lips smacking against her glass.
Taehyungie buried her face in her hands.
Jungkook tried—and failed—not to grin. "Can't argue with their powers of observation," he murmured lowly.
Taehyungie peeked at him between her fingers and kicked him under the table.
He winced and laughed silently.
After the chaos settled and the food was gone, the twins ran off to play with their coloring books in the living room. Their tiny voices echoed with chatter about magical animals and their plans to draw a "rainbow tiger that wears shoes."
Taehyungie stood at the sink, rinsing dishes while humming softly to herself, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders. Jungkook came up beside her quietly with a dish towel and helped, standing shoulder to shoulder.
The warmth between them was unspoken but undeniable.
And when their fingers brushed beneath the faucet, neither of them moved away.
"I liked the lunch," Jungkook said quietly, drying a bowl.
"I liked the kiss," Taehyungie replied, just as quietly, not looking at him.
Jungkook's hands paused, lips parting.
She glanced up at him finally, her expression teasing, but her eyes soft. "Just don't let the twins catch us next time."
He stared at her, a grin blooming slow and warm. "Noted."
Taehyungie chuckled and handed him another bowl. "Also... I made extra japchae. For tonight."
"Should I consider that a date?" he teased.
Taehyungie turned to him, eyes twinkling. "Maybe. Depends on if you bring dessert."
Jungkook leaned a little closer, voice low. "I'm dessert."
She dropped the sponge in the sink and walked off laughing, "You wish, Jeon."
And in the living room, Taeri looked up from her coloring book with a knowing smirk. "They're being weird again."
Taehyun nodded seriously. "It's love."
--
The soft hum of the dishwasher filled the background, blending with the hush of the evening as moonlight slipped in through the balcony windows. The living room was scattered with crayons, coloring books, and half-finished dinosaur puzzles—tiny remnants of a full day.
Jungkook sat on the couch, legs stretched out, a bowl of leftover fruit in his lap. He scrolled absently through something on his phone, but his mind wasn't there. Not really.
"Daddy?"
Jungkook turned quickly, setting his phone aside. Standing in the hallway was Taehyun, his hair still damp from his bath, a little towel hanging around his neck, and his favorite bunny plush clutched to his chest.
"Hey, buddy," Jungkook said softly. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Taehyun padded over slowly, dragging his feet a little. "I couldn't sleep."
Jungkook set the fruit bowl on the table and opened his arms without hesitation. "C'mere."
The little boy crawled into his lap without another word, curling against his father's chest. Jungkook held him close, a hand gently brushing back the still-damp strands from his forehead.
"Something bothering you?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Taehyun nodded slowly, then mumbled, "I had a bad dream."
Jungkook felt his heart squeeze. "Wanna tell me what it was?"
Taehyun looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes. "I dreamed that someone tried to take Mama... and me and Taeri couldn't find you."
Jungkook's entire body went still. The weight of the past weeks pressed on his chest like a vice—but he didn't let it show.
He cupped the boy's face gently. "Hey... that's not gonna happen."
"But what if it does?" Taehyun asked, voice small and trembling now. "You weren't there in the dream, Daddy. And everything was dark."
Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled him in tighter. "I will always be there, okay? For you, for Taeri, and for Mama. Even if you don't see me, I'll be there."
Taehyun sniffled. "Like magic?"
Jungkook chuckled softly, brushing his nose against his son's. "Yeah, like magic."
They sat there for a moment, wrapped in silence. Then Taehyun looked up again, his expression unsure.
"Daddy... are you gonna stay with us forever now?"
The question hit Jungkook like a freight train.
He nodded without hesitation. "Forever and a day."
Taehyun studied him for a long moment, then reached up with his tiny hands and placed them on Jungkook's cheeks.
"You're my hero," he whispered.
Jungkook felt tears sting the back of his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Taehyun's forehead, hugging him so tightly it was as if he could mold the boy to his heartbeat.
"I'm yours," he whispered back, voice thick. "Always."
From down the hall, the soft creak of the bedroom door caught their attention. Taehyungie stood there in her pajama pants and tank top, arms folded, a fond smile playing on her lips.
"You two okay?" she asked gently.
Jungkook looked up at her and nodded.
"Yeah," he murmured. "Just... saving the world one bad dream at a time."
She chuckled and walked over, ruffling Taehyun's hair and pressing a kiss to his crown. "Time for bed, baby."
Taehyun stretched his arms toward her sleepily. "Carry me, Mama."
Taehyungie scooped him up effortlessly, resting him against her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her neck with a sleepy sigh.
Jungkook stood beside them, watching the way his son clung to his mother like a lifeline, and how Taehyungie naturally shifted to hold him tighter.
As she turned to head down the hallway, she looked back at Jungkook, her eyes softer than moonlight.
"You're doing good," she said quietly.
Jungkook smiled. "So are you."
Their eyes lingered a little longer—no rush, no pressure. Just warmth.
--
The sun had begun to sink behind the rooftops of Paris, casting a warm amber hue over the city streets. The visit to Yoongi and Jiminie's apartment had been long overdue, and after weeks of chaos and slow healing, it felt right to spend time with the people who had held them up when the world threatened to knock them down.
The elevator dinged at the top floor, and Taehyungie stepped out first, her long coat swishing behind her as she turned to make sure Jungkook was still right behind her—he was, cradling Taehyun in one arm and holding Taeri's tiny hand with the other. The twins were dressed identically: denim overalls over white T-shirts, little berets perched on their heads like cherries on top. Their giggles echoed softly as they admired the painted walls and twinkling ceiling lights of the hallway.
"All thanks to their daddy," Taehyungie had teased earlier when she saw them matching, and Jungkook had simply shrugged, looking faintly proud. "They asked to match. I just listened."
Now, as they arrived in front of Yoongi and Jiminie's door, something... unexpected halted their cheerful march.
A sound.
No, not just any sound.
Skin slapping. Rhythmic. Followed by a high-pitched moan.
Taehyungie froze.
Jungkook nearly dropped Taehyun.
"...Tae..." he whispered, horrified, his ears burning red. His wide eyes flicked toward her, silently begging her to say that wasn't what it sounded like.
But the unmistakable crescendo on the other side of the door said otherwise.
Taehyungie blinked rapidly, cheeks blooming scarlet. She fumbled for her phone like it was a lifeline, unlocking it with trembling fingers and tapping Jiminie's contact. Behind her, Jungkook stood like a statue, mouth parted in speechless disbelief while the twins babbled happily to each other, blessedly oblivious to the adult-rated symphony happening beyond the door.
The line rang once. Twice.
Then a breathless voice answered. "H-Hello?"
Taehyungie cleared her throat, doing her best to sound composed despite the redness crawling down her neck. "Jiminie... we're outside."
There was a thud from inside the apartment—something or someone hitting the floor.
Jungkook let out a surprised snort that he instantly muffled with a cough, eyes sparkling as he tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.
"Give us—two minutes!" Jiminie blurted.
Click.
A beat passed.
Two.
Then, finally, the door creaked open.
Yoongi stood there in a dark hoodie and sweats, his hair tousled, lips a bit swollen, and eyes glinting with thinly veiled annoyance. "You could've come ten minutes later."
Taehyungie narrowed her eyes, still red in the face but managing to glare with her usual unimpressed calm. "You could've checked the time."
Jungkook was chuckling now, full-on, as he shifted Taehyun to his other arm. "Hyung, seriously?"
Yoongi exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Not my fault you two show up unannounced. What happened to texting first?"
"We did text!" Taehyungie defended, glaring at Jungkook when he laughed harder.
Yoongi stepped aside to let them in. The moment the door opened fully, the twins gasped.
"Uncle Yoongi!" Taeri chirped, running in with her arms up.
"Aunt Minie!" Taehyun echoed, darting after his sister.
Jiminie peeked from the hallway, face flushed and hair disheveled, clearly trying to act normal. "Hey babies!"
Taehyungie brushed past Jungkook with her head held high, acting as though she hadn't just caught their best friends mid-debauchery. "Let's just pretend none of this happened."
"Oh no," Jungkook muttered with a grin, bumping his shoulder against hers. "I'm never letting Yoongi live this down."
"I heard that," Yoongi deadpanned, dragging himself toward the kitchen.
As the twins threw themselves onto the couch, laughing and tugging on Jiminie's sleeves for stories and snacks, Taehyungie finally let out a soft laugh of her own. She glanced at Jungkook who was still snickering, eyes alight, his face brighter than she had seen it all day.
And though the start of the visit had been... unorthodox, it felt good.
It felt like family.
--
The apartment was filled with a golden warmth—the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with sweet strawberry yogurt popsicles Taehyun insisted everyone try. Jiminie had whipped up a fruit platter, and Yoongi begrudgingly made popcorn at the twins' request, grumbling under his breath but softening the second Taeri looked at him with her pouty eyes.
They'd settled into the living room, Taehyun curled against Jiminie while Taeri sat cross-legged between Jungkook and Yoongi, proudly showing off her coloring skills. Jungkook leaned back against the plush sofa, his arm casually stretched along the back, brushing just behind Taehyungie's shoulders as she laughed at something Yoongi mumbled.
Jiminie, observant as ever, noticed it first. The way Jungkook's gaze softened when he looked at Taehyungie. How their shoulders would touch, just slightly, and neither of them moved away. Even Yoongi raised a brow when Jungkook gently wiped juice from the corner of Taehyungie's lips without a second thought.
"Wow..." Yoongi murmured, nudging Jiminie with a pointed smirk. "They're... different now."
Jiminie bit back a grin. "I know, right? There's something sweet in the air."
Jungkook looked up suspiciously. "What are you whispering about?"
"Nothing," they chorused in unison.
Taehyungie, catching their teasing looks, blinked innocently. "What?"
Yoongi gave her a slow, knowing smirk. "Nothing, Mrs. Jeon."
Taehyungie choked on her drink. "Yah!"
Jungkook laughed, eyes crinkling, and Jiminie cooed, "You're blushing, taetae~!"
"I am not!" she coughed, face scarlet as she waved them off. "I'm just warm!"
"Mhm," Yoongi hummed, tossing popcorn into his mouth.
It was soft. Chaotic. Familiar. The type of morning that stitched hearts closer together without anyone noticing.
Later, while Yoongi distracted the twins with a piano duet in the next room, Taehyungie found herself helping Jiminie refill drinks in the kitchen. The light was dim, and soft music played from the speaker, the air laced with cinnamon and calm.
Jiminie leaned against the counter, watching her best friend with a gentle smile. "You seem... lighter."
Taehyungie hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of her glass. "We kissed."
Jiminie's eyes widened like a child offered candy. "What?!"
She laughed, a breathy little sound. "That night... the movie night. I... I couldn't stop myself. And then yesterday—" she trailed off, her cheeks pink again.
Jiminie clasped her hands together in excitement, bouncing on her toes. "Tae! That's so good! Do you feel okay about it?"
Taehyungie nodded slowly, eyes a little dreamy. "It felt... right. For the first time in years, it didn't hurt."
Jiminie stepped closer, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you. You deserve it, Tae. You've held so much alone for too long."
Taehyungie bit her lip, then smirked playfully. "So... you and Yoongi, huh? You two have moments too, I can tell."
Jiminie pulled back just far enough to gasp in betrayal. "Don't change the subject!"
"Come on~!" Taehyungie teased. "The noises outside the door? My poor, innocent ears—"
Jiminie let out a scandalized yelp and smacked her arm. "I couldn't even cum because of you people!"
Taehyungie shrieked. "YAHHH!" Laughing so hard her knees buckled, Jiminie chased Taehyungie around the kitchen while the latter dodged, red-faced and howling.
"Taetae, you ruined my orgasm!" Jiminie cackled, throwing a dish towel after her.
"I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE DOING THE DEVIL'S TANGO!" Taehyungie wailed dramatically.
Jungkook peeked in, curious and concerned. "What the hell is happening in here?"
"Nothing!" the girls chorused breathlessly, both doubled over in laughter, tears in their eyes.
Yoongi didn't even bother to ask. He just turned the music up louder and let the chaos unfold.
--
The night was gentle, cool Parisian air brushing softly against bare skin as Taehyungie stepped out onto the balcony of their penthouse. The lights of the city shimmered below like fallen stars caught in cobbled streets. She wrapped her cardigan a little tighter around herself, exhaling slowly as she leaned on the railing, watching the world in silence.
Behind her, the low hum of the penthouse settled—They had said their goodbyes to Yoongi and Jiminie after another chaotic yet warm visit. The twins had passed out almost instantly in the car, and Jungkook had carried them inside one by one, pressing soft kisses to their foreheads before tucking them into bed with Taehyungie. Now, they were asleep, their little snores echoing faintly through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
Footsteps padded softly behind her, and she didn't turn.
Jungkook came to stand beside her, close but not too close. Just enough to let his presence be known without pressing. "You always come out here when something's on your mind."
Taehyungie smiled faintly. "You always follow."
He chuckled under his breath, resting his arms on the railing. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was calm, patient. The kind that only existed between two people who knew each other beyond words.
"The city's beautiful at night," she murmured.
"You're more beautiful," he said, without thinking.
Taehyungie glanced at him slowly, brows raised. Jungkook flushed but didn't look away. "Sorry. That just came out."
Taehyungie looked down, a shy smile playing at the corner of her lips. "You've always been bad at hiding your feelings."
"And you've always been bad at accepting compliments," he shot back gently.
They stood there for a moment longer, the wind tugging playfully at their hair. Jungkook looked up at the sky—Paris stars weren't as clear as they were in the countryside, but one or two managed to peek through the haze. "When we were young, I thought love was just... loud. Passion and chaos. But now..." he paused, "I think love is this. Quiet. Soft. Just standing here next to you and not wanting to be anywhere else."
Taehyungie's heart thudded painfully, beautifully. "You're not saying that because of the kiss... right?"
He turned fully to face her now. "No. I'm saying it because every time you laugh, I feel like I can breathe again. And every time you let me near you, it feels like a miracle I don't deserve."
Her throat tightened. She didn't want to cry. Not again. But the way he looked at her—like she was every page in the story of his life—made something melt inside her.
She turned to him. "Jungkook... this isn't easy."
"I know," he whispered.
"I'm still scared."
"I know."
"But... I think I want to try. A little more."
His breath caught. "Taehyungie..."
She took a step closer, just enough to close the gap. Her hands reached out and found his, fingers trembling slightly as she threaded them together.
He squeezed them gently, grounding her.
"I'm not promising anything," she said, voice soft. "But I don't want to run anymore."
Jungkook stared at her like she was made of light. He didn't kiss her. He didn't need to. Instead, he raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles one by one—slowly, reverently.
"I'll wait for as long as it takes."
Taehyungie leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his cheek on her hair. Together, they stood in silence, the world spinning below and the stars blinking above—two souls, broken and healing, finding their way home again.
--
The morning sunlight filtered through the wide, tall windows of the penthouse, casting soft golden light over everything it touched. The twins were nestled in their art corner by the living room window, coloring books open, markers strewn everywhere, little brows furrowed in concentration. Taeri had just scolded her brother for coloring outside the lines when the grand penthouse door swung open with the regal air of a queen entering her court.
"God mother!" the twins squealed in unison, bolting from their spots.
Claire Laurent, the ever-elegant icon of Parisian haute couture, stepped in with sunglasses perched atop her meticulously styled waves, a silk scarf looped elegantly around her neck, and heels that clicked like punctuation marks on the marble. She stooped to kiss both their cheeks with a fondness rare for anyone but them.
"And where," she asked, smoothing a hand over Taehyun's messy curls, "are your royal parents this fine morning?"
Taeri, ever the little snitch, grinned. "In the kitchen!"
Claire lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. "Of course they are."
Meanwhile, in said kitchen...
A soft series of wet kisses echoed between faint gasps and muffled hums. Taehyungie sat perched on the island counter, one leg curled around Jungkook's waist, the other resting lazily against the cabinet as his hands gripped her thighs and held her flush against him. His mouth devoured hers in slow, sensual kisses, as if memorizing every part of her taste—her lips swollen, her hands in his hair, pulling just enough to make him growl low in his throat.
Taehyungie broke away with a shaky breath, eyes fluttering open. "We have to—hmm—get the kids ready..."
"I'll take care of it later," Jungkook murmured between kisses, peppering a trail along her jawline, down to her neck. "Just give me five more minutes."
"You said that ten minutes ago," she gasped, giggling as he nipped her earlobe.
He grinned against her skin. "And yet you're still here."
Before Taehyungie could retort, a polite but unmistakably pointed ahem sliced through the air like a blade.
They both froze.
Taehyungie's eyes widened in pure panic. Jungkook stilled, lips still pressed just below her jaw.
Taehyungie pushed him with a startled yelp, hopping down from the counter with as much grace as a woman freshly devoured could manage. "Claire!" she squeaked, brushing down her shirt and trying not to look like she had just been kissed within an inch of her life.
Claire stood by the kitchen door, arms folded, lips pursed in a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes—equal parts amused and disapproving. Her sunglasses now rested on her head as she gave the pair a deliberate once-over.
"I must say," she drawled, "if you two are planning on eating each other's faces, do wait until my godchildren are safely with me and not unsupervised with markers."
Taehyungie flushed crimson, looking as if she wanted the kitchen floor to swallow her whole. "I—we weren't—"
"You were," Claire said with a sly smile, stepping further into the room. "But I'll pretend I didn't see Jungkook's hands right where they weren't supposed to be."
Jungkook cleared his throat and made to bow slightly, only for Claire to stop him with a raised hand and a playful side-eye. "Spare me the formalities. I'm not sure I want those hands near me right now."
Taehyungie wheezed. Jungkook bit back a sheepish grin.
Claire took pity on them and let the teasing settle. "I came to take the twins. I assume you two have your little date?"
"Yes," Taehyungie mumbled, still recovering. "The amusement park."
"Lovely." Claire smirked and turned. "Well then, I'll just go collect the little artists. You two can resume your... breakfast ritual once the coast is clear."
With that, she swept back out of the kitchen like the fashion monarch she was, her heels clicking in retreat.
As soon as she was gone, Taehyungie leaned on the counter, face buried in her hands.
Jungkook chuckled, moving behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. "So... same time tomorrow?"
"Jeon Jungkook!" she hissed, shoving him away, but not before he stole one last kiss to her temple.
--
The twins were safely buckled in the backseat of Claire's sleek, champagne-colored car, busy chattering to each other in hushed giggles, showing off their coloring pages. Jungkook was giving the security team last-minute instructions near the entrance, while Taehyungie lingered by the marble steps of the penthouse, waiting to say a proper goodbye.
Claire stepped out once more, shutting the car door softly before joining her at the steps. Her scarf fluttered slightly in the breeze, and she wore her sunglasses again, but not even tinted lenses could hide the sharp warmth in her gaze.
"You're glowing, chérie." Taehyungie turned her head, cheeks still dusted with pink. "No, I'm just...embarrassed."
Claire hummed. "Embarrassed and glowing are not the same thing. But they do happen to share a cause."
Taehyungie laughed under her breath and looked down at her shoes. "He kissed me first."
"I saw," Claire replied dryly. "Or rather, I arrived after he'd kissed you fourth or fifth."
Taehyungie's lips parted, and Claire grinned before leaning against the railing beside her, arms folding softly over her middle.
"You love him."
The words weren't a question. They landed lightly, yet they made Taehyungie's chest tighten.
"I..." she hesitated. "I'm scared. I do love him. But it's not the same kind of love I had back then. It's deeper, maybe. More raw. But also... guarded."
Claire looked out at the view of Paris, where sunlight kissed the rooftops of the city. "That's because you're no longer a girl. You're a woman who has bled and birthed and built herself back up. That kind of love never comes without scars."
Taehyungie swallowed hard, her voice quieter. "What if he breaks me again?"
Claire turned to her, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Then you will rise again — as you always have. But this time, he knows what he'd lose if he did. And men like that...they don't make the same mistake twice."
Taehyungie's lips trembled faintly, and Claire saw it. "I see the way he looks at you, mon étoile," Claire added more gently. "He looks at you like a man who's been starved of light and finally found his sun again."
Taehyungie exhaled shakily, blinking away the emotion in her eyes. "Why do you always say the right thing?"
"Because I've lived long enough to learn that love is a battlefield. And I've fought my share of wars." Claire gave a teasing smile before placing a soft kiss on her temple. "But don't get cocky just yet. You still have flour in your hair."
Taehyungie gasped, reaching up to brush her hair down in a fluster.
Claire walked off with a victorious little laugh, her heels clicking toward the car. "Enjoy your date, my darling. And do try not to eat each other in public."
"Claire!" Taehyungie hissed, scandalized.
Claire waved a hand over her shoulder without turning around. "Just motherly advice."
--
The soft click of the penthouse door echoed behind them as Taehyungie and Jungkook stepped out, the air between them hushed yet brimming with a quiet kind of electricity. The day was warm, the Parisian sun spilling its golden light across the pavement as the private car waited by the curb, its tinted windows gleaming.
Jungkook opened the door for her like a gentleman — she noticed, cheeks warming slightly — and Taehyungie gave him a small smile as she slid into the seat. Once he joined her inside and the door clicked shut, a soft silence settled between them, only the hum of the city outside and the gentle thrum of their hearts filling the space.
They didn't speak at first. There was no need to.
Jungkook looked over at her, and she was staring out the window, her long lashes casting delicate shadows over her cheeks, her lips relaxed in a quiet pout. She was breathtaking. He wanted to say it — God, how he wanted to — but he bit his tongue and simply reached over to gently take her hand.
She looked down, then up at him, surprised. His grip was warm. Gentle. Protective.
"You're nervous," she said softly.
"A little," he admitted, his smile sheepish. "It's been a while since I took you on a date."
Taehyungie giggled — a soft, airy sound that made Jungkook's chest swell. "Yeah, and that didn't end well."
He groaned playfully, leaning his head back against the seat. "Don't remind me."
The car rolled through the city, and soon the skyline shifted, becoming something a little more playful, a little more magical — cotton candy stalls, distant screams of delight, the faint chime of carousel music drifting through the air.
When they stepped out, the wind tousled Taehyungie's hair slightly, and Jungkook couldn't stop staring. He held out his hand again without a word, and this time, she took it without hesitation.
The amusement park wasn't too crowded, and Jungkook had arranged for VIP access, giving them space, quiet, and privacy. It felt like the world had shrunk — just the two of them, against a backdrop of soft lights and remembered dreams.
They shared churros first, laughing when Jungkook accidentally dropped powdered sugar on her top. She retaliated by flicking some onto his face, and the chase that ensued left them breathless, red-faced, and more in sync than either expected.
They tried the carousel, sitting side by side on a double bench seat. Taehyungie laughed so hard she almost fell, clutching onto him as the ride spun in slow circles, her head buried in his shoulder, her body loose and free.
"God, I feel like I'm twelve again," she murmured. He looked down at her. "You're more beautiful now."
She paused, looking up at him, lips parting slightly.
There it was again — that shift in the air. That slow, aching gravity that pulled them together even when they tried to resist it.
They wandered more, hand-in-hand, talking softly as the sky slowly shifted into dusk. At one point, he won her a plush bear — one she swore she didn't need, but clung to nonetheless.
By the time they reached the Ferris wheel, the park lights had begun to glow. Warm, golden halos stretched over them, casting shadows and catching in Taehyungie's hair like starlight.
Their cabin was empty. Quiet. Suspended high in the air.
Taehyungie leaned into the window, looking out over the city. "Paris looks so different from up here."
Jungkook watched her, his voice a low murmur. "Everything looks different with you beside me."
She turned to him slowly, eyes wide, vulnerable. He didn't move this time. He waited.
And then — Taehyungie cupped his cheek, fingers trembling slightly, and leaned in.
Their lips met with gentle urgency — soft, searching. The kiss deepened slowly, breath catching between them as their hands moved instinctively, relearning each other's warmth. Jungkook pulled her closer, one hand resting at the small of her back, the other tangled in her hair. She sighed into his mouth, a quiet sound that made him tighten his hold.
When they finally pulled away, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling, neither spoke for a moment.
"Was that okay?" he asked softly.
Taehyungie opened her eyes and smiled — that real, devastating smile of hers that always made him lose balance.
"It was more than okay."
The Ferris wheel descended slowly, but they remained entangled, the silence around them filled with promises and unspoken wishes.
Tonight, they weren't two people broken by time and pain.
They were Taehyungie and Jungkook — childhood sweethearts, scarred lovers, healing hearts.
Together again.
The night wrapped around them like velvet — warm, a little breezy, and dreamlike.
Jungkook and Taehyungie walked side by side, fingers laced again, this time more naturally. Like their hands had always belonged like this. Like the years hadn't carved valleys between them but only paused the inevitable return.
Their hair swayed in the soft wind, held loosely by the playful hair ties they won at a stall — a pink bunny band nestled on Jungkook's head, a little askew, and a tiny plush tiger perched stubbornly in Taehyungie's hair. They had laughed so hard when they won them, and despite his protests, Jungkook wore his proudly now, if only because it made her smile like that.
"You know," Jungkook said, glancing at her sideways as they wandered past a row of shops, "if we'd gone to prom together, I would've tried to sneak you out through the kitchen window."
Taehyungie gasped, her laugh bubbling out as she squeezed his hand. "Jeon Jungkook! And I suppose you would've had a motorcycle waiting outside?"
He grinned. "Obviously. Leather jacket. Shades. The whole cliché."
She giggled, throwing her head back, not caring one bit about the world watching.
And the world was watching. A few people turned heads as they passed. Some whispered. And then—
"Isn't that...? That's Kim Taehyungie!" Cameras clicked. Phones rose into the air. A small group of fans began approaching with excited steps.
Immediately, Jungkook gently slipped his hand from hers. Taehyungie blinked at him, momentarily startled by the loss of warmth — until she saw his expression: calm, protective, a small, reassuring nod. It wasn't rejection. It was instinct.
She turned to the fans with a polite, bright smile, gracious and poised as always.
They took pictures with her, complimented her hair, asked questions. Jungkook stood by with a quiet smile, eyes always on her — never overwhelmed, but always watching. Guarding.
Once the group left with smiles and waves, silence settled between them again. He hesitated — but then Taehyungie reached out and took his hand again. Deliberate. Steady.
"I didn't mind," she said softly.
He looked down at their joined fingers and exhaled like he'd been holding that breath for years. "Thank you."
They walked on. The city slowly thinned around them, tall buildings giving way to quiet streets and trees whispering in the night air. Eventually, they stumbled upon a park — nearly deserted, lit softly by moonlight and a few lampposts.
Jungkook glanced at her. "Bet I can catch you."
Taehyungie blinked. "What—?"
But it was too late. He had let go, dashing forward with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes.
Taehyungie squealed and ran, her dress fluttering behind her as she darted between the benches and trees, laughing uncontrollably.
"Jeon Jungkook, you menace!" "You love it!" he shouted, chasing.
And she did. God, she did.
He caught her by the waist just near a quiet fountain, spinning her effortlessly, her feet leaving the ground. She shrieked with laughter, head thrown back, arms instinctively clutching his shoulders. The stars above swirled with the spin, the moon glowing like a spotlight just for them.
"Put me down!" she wheezed.
"No."
"Jungkook!"
He finally let her feet touch the ground, but didn't let go. She looked up, breathless, cheeks glowing.
He cupped her face with one hand and leaned in, and this time, the kiss was gentle — no urgency, just warmth and affection. Her fingers curled against his chest, her lips soft under his, their laughter slowly fading into quiet hums.
It was under the moonlight that their lips moved again, a slow kiss — a sealing of something precious.
And then—
A flash.
They both froze.
Taehyungie pulled back, startled, eyes darting around. "What was that?!"
Jungkook looked up, scanning the dark trees, the edge of the street beyond. A car passed, headlights briefly illuminating the space they stood in.
"Probably just a passing car," he said, though a furrow formed between his brows.
Still, he took her hand quickly, gripping it a little tighter.
"Let's go," he murmured.
They walked quietly back toward the car, Taehyungie's heart still fluttering — not just from the flash, but the kiss. The chase. The laughter.
She glanced at him once.
The bunny band was still perched in his hair, crooked and ridiculous.
She smiled.
And so did he.
The soft hum of the dishwasher was the only sound echoing from the kitchen as the night settled gently around them. The twins had long since fallen asleep at Claires and Jungkook had carried them to bed.
Claire had kissed them goodbye at the door of her mansion, watching the way Taehyungie stood closer to Jungkook than before — not just in distance, but in presence. She had said nothing, only smiled knowingly and whispered to Taehyungie, "You look lighter, mon trésor." Taehyungie had only blushed.
Taehyungie had disappeared into the bathroom for a shower, humming under her breath, the melody faint through the closed door.
Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, hair slightly damp from his own shower, his phone resting in his palm. He hesitated for a second, staring at the screen... then pressed call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"Kook-ah."
His mother's voice was warm. Familiar. Soothing. He hadn't called her like this in a while — not like this, not with something in his heart he actually wanted to share.
He smiled, slow and sheepish. "Eomma..."
"Is everything okay? Are the kids alright?"
"They're fine," he said gently, lying back against the pillows. "They're perfect. They're sleeping already."
"And Taehyungie?"
His lips twitched into a smile. "She's... in the shower."
There was a pause. A knowing pause.
"Oh?" she teased softly, and Jungkook could hear her smile from miles away. "So you're finally talking again?"
"More than talking," he muttered, cheeks warming as he rubbed the back of his neck. "We... went out today. Just the two of us. I dropped the kids at Claire's and—"
"Oh, you planned a date?" she interrupted, delighted.
He groaned playfully, falling deeper into the covers. "Don't say it like that, it's embarrassing."
"But it's true!" she laughed. "Jeon Jungkook planning a date? My boy is growing up."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but he was grinning now. His voice softened "It felt like... like we went back in time. Like when we were kids. And I don't know, eomma. For the first time, I didn't feel like I was trying to make up for everything. I just... enjoyed her."
His mother didn't speak at first. Then, quietly, "That's love, baby. When it feels like breathing again."
Jungkook's throat tightened, his smile faltering for a heartbeat. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me fully?"
"I think," she said slowly, "she already is. Little by little. You can't erase the pain, Jungkook, but you can hold her hand while it heals."
He swallowed.
"She kissed me. First. Twice, actually," he confessed, voice low, as if it were a sacred thing he wasn't meant to say aloud. "Once under the stars. And once in the kitchen... after she smeared flour all over my face."
His mother laughed softly. "That sounds like her."
"Yeah," he murmured. "It does."
The bathroom door creak echoed, and Taehyungie stepped out in a long robe, towel in hand as she dried her hair, she passed by his room, opened and blinked when she saw him on the phone, then smiled — soft and sweet, cheeks still a little pink from the heat.
Jungkook looked at her like she hung the stars.
His mother's voice pulled him gently back. "You sound happy."
He didn't even hesitate.
"I am."
And for the first time in years — he truly meant it.
--
The next morning bloomed slowly over Paris, golden light filtering through sheer curtains. Taehyungie had taken the twins to the terrace to water their little potted herbs. Jungkook stepped out to the living room to grab a bottle of water when he found Claire seated by the window, dressed impeccably in ivory slacks and a satin robe, sipping a soft blend of tea from a delicate china cup.
"Claire," Jungkook greeted softly, surprised. "Good morning."
She turned, elegant as ever, her eyes warm. "Good morning, Jungkook."
He approached slowly, unsure, but she waved him closer, gesturing to the seat beside her.
"I was just enjoying the sunrise," she said, setting her cup down. "But I was also waiting for you."
Jungkook tilted his head, curious. "For me?"
Claire nodded, folding one leg over the other. "I've been watching, mon lapin. There's been a shift. You and her."
He smiled shyly, eyes dropping to his hands. "You noticed?"
"I'm not blind," she teased lightly, though her voice remained soft. "The way she looks at you again—like the sun might rise from your shadow. That doesn't happen overnight."
Jungkook let out a breath, his voice low. "I'm scared, Claire."
"Of?"
"Of breaking it again. Of not being enough. Of losing this after finally feeling what it's like to have it."
Claire leaned in, her tone quiet but firm. "Let me tell you something about Taehyungie, Jungkook. She doesn't let herself need anyone. She never has. Not since that day she came to me with eyes swollen from crying and heart torn to shreds."
Jungkook swallowed hard.
"She rebuilt herself from ash," Claire continued. "But with you—she lets herself soften. She lets herself feel."
Jungkook looked down again, guilt and awe blooming in his chest.
Claire reached forward, taking his hand in hers gently. "Do you understand what that means, darling?"
"That she trusts me again?" he whispered.
"That she wants to," Claire corrected. "Fully. Completely. But she needs you to be steady. Quietly strong. No more apologies—only proof."
Jungkook nodded slowly, eyes glassy.
"I love her," he murmured.
Claire smiled, but there was emotion behind it. "I know. And she's never stopped loving you. She just buried it under all the things she thought she had to protect."
There was a pause before Claire added, "You're doing well. I've seen it. The way you look at her, the patience, the playfulness, the way you speak to her like she's not fragile, but precious... That matters."
Jungkook's throat felt tight.
"I'm not here to warn you," Claire added, standing now and straightening her robe. "I'm here to tell you that for the first time in years, Taehyungie laughs like a girl in love again."
He looked up at her, heart pounding.
Claire smirked and patted his cheek. "Now don't mess it up."
Then she walked off with the grace of a queen, leaving Jungkook seated, hands clasped, heart full and grounded.
Just then, from the balcony, he heard Taehyung's voice laughing as the twins splashed water over her slippers.
He stood, eyes soft.
And followed the sound of home.
--
The warmth of breakfast still lingered in the air, soft sunlight pouring through the penthouse windows, casting a golden halo over the breakfast nook where the twins had just finished their fruit cups. Taehyungie stood at the sink, drying the last plate, while Jungkook leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, quietly watching her.
"She came by," he said casually, eyes drifting to the kids who were now whispering over something in the living room.
Taehyungie turned to him, brows slightly raised. "Who?"
"Claire."
The reaction was immediate. She straightened slightly, surprise flitting across her face. "What? Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
Jungkook shrugged, lips tugging into a soft smile. "Didn't want to worry you. She just wanted to check in... said she was happy. That we're talking again."
Taehyungie blinked, caught off guard by how gentle his voice sounded—how reassuring. A quiet moment settled between them, tender and real, before it was broken by the pitter-patter of little feet.
"Daddy! Mama!" Taeri's voice rang brightly through the room.
She came bounding over, holding a thick photo album tightly against her chest, her panda pajamas half-rumpled from play. Behind her, Taehyun trailed close, still in his matching outfit, face suspiciously puffed like he had just lost a tickle war.
Taehyungie's breath caught when she saw the album.
Taeri plopped it down on the couch with great ceremony. "Look! Baby book!"
Jungkook blinked. "Wait... what is that?"
"Our baby book," Taeri replied proudly, climbing onto the couch. "Aunt Jiminie made it with mama."
Jungkook glanced toward Taehyungie, who simply gave a small smile and nodded, walking over and sitting beside him, their arms nearly brushing. Her fingers reached out to open the book, flipping to the first page.
"You have a baby album?"
"Of course," Taehyungie replied softly, a faint smile curling at her lips as she scooted closer.
With a quiet hum, the twins opened the book and flipped the first page. Jungkook's breath caught.
There, nestled between neatly placed pastel stickers and handwritten notes in Taehyungie's careful script, was a picture of a younger Taehyungie lying on a soft bed—cradling a tiny baby girl on her chest. Her hair was disheveled, her face bare and glowing, and in her arms, the infant slept soundly, a bundle of warmth and new life.
It was the exact image Jungkook now held in his heart—Taehyungie in quiet peace, maternal and strong, holding their daughter like the entire world.
"That's me," Taeri whispered proudly, pointing at the photo. "Daddy, I was so tiny!"
Jungkook stared, eyes misting over. "You were... you were perfect."
Taehyungie didn't speak, but she watched him quietly, her fingers brushing lightly over the corner of the page.
The next image was a golden-toned snapshot: little Taehyun, no older than one, clinging to Taehyungie's pajama-clad leg in the kitchen, his cheeks puffed out as he looked up at her with sleepy devotion. The photo captured the soft glow of early morning by Jiminie, the quiet tenderness of everyday love.
Taehyungie chuckled. "He used to follow me everywhere."
"He still does," Jungkook smirked. "Except now he also bosses me around."
Taehyungie laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "He got that from you."
As they turned the page again, a giggle erupted from Taeri as she pointed to another photo—both she and Taehyun dressed in thick, black-and-white onesies, tangled up in a mock wrestling match on the couch. Taehyun was pinned down, pouting, while Taeri looked victorious with a gleeful grin.
"You were bullying your brother even then," Jungkook teased.
Taeri gasped, "No! I was just playing!"
"I was crying," Taehyun mumbled from across the room, making everyone laugh.
Then came another photo—Taehyungie holding Taeri and Taehyun up by their underarms, both toddlers dressed in tiny hanboks for their first birthday. Taehyungie's smile was bright but tired, and her eyes betrayed the strain of doing it all alone. Jungkook's chest tightened.
(All credits to rightful owners)
In the next few pages were sunlit mornings captured through blurry lenses: little Taehyun learning to walk, Taeri curled in a blanket fort, a sleepy Taehyungie passed out between them. Another photo showed them at a park, Taeri covered in grass stains, waving a stick like a sword while Taehyun hid behind a tree.
"She's always been the chaotic one," Taehyungie sighed fondly. "She's you," Jungkook replied, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.
And then, nestled near the back of the album, was a small polaroid that made Jungkook's breath hitch.
It was a candid shot—Taehyungie holding the twins in her lap, staring out of a window with a soft, wistful expression. There was no makeup, no lights, no performance. Just her... and them.
(I'll add more images to boost your imaginations🥰)
(Imagine them with Jungkook's faces)
Jungkook's hand brushed against Taehyungie's where it rested on the album. She didn't move away. Her eyes were soft as she gazed at the past laid out before them—proof of everything she had survived, everything she had built, alone.
But not anymore.
"I missed so much," Jungkook murmured, barely audible.
Taehyungie glanced at him "You're here now," she whispered. "That's what matters."
Their eyes met, and for the briefest moment, the ache of lost time melted into the comfort of now.
Silence wrapped around them for a moment—comforting, deep, healing. Then Taehyungie rested her head against his shoulder. Just for a while.
And as the twins turned another page, arguing over who looked cuter in matching bunny hats, Jungkook kissed the top of her hair gently, his lips trembling against her warmth.
They had missed years.
But they still had forever.
--
The warm glow of the pendant lights reflected off the sleek floor as soft jazz played low from the penthouse speakers. The twins were curled on the plush carpet with Jungkook, giggling over a stack of picture books and a plushie talent show they were organizing. The evening air through the windows was cool and fragrant with the scent of night blossoms, the city of Paris glittering beyond.
Then, the doorbell rang.
Taehyungie, who had just returned from changing into a more comfortable knit set, paused mid-step and gave Jungkook a brief look before heading to the door.
Standing there was Hyunjae, her old friend from her earlier Paris days—the one who had hovered a little too close, called a little too often, and never quite disguised his interest. Dressed sharply in a blazer and turtleneck, he smiled, eyes scanning the space beyond her shoulder.
"Hyunjae," Taehyungie greeted surprised, voice neutral but polite. "I wasn't expecting you"
He shrugged, stepping in when she moved aside. "Wanted it to be a surprise. I was in the area. Thought I'd drop by."
The twins didn't even look up. Taehyun was busy trying to balance a plush bear on top of a giraffe's head, and Taeri had crawled halfway into Jungkook's lap, announcing that she would now be the judge.
Hyunjae's eyes flicked over to them—and lingered on Jungkook.
Taehyungie noticed the tension instantly. She forced a composed smile and gestured toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get you some water."
Hyunjae sat down slowly, his expression unreadable. Jungkook gave him a polite nod, but Hyunjae didn't return it. He simply leaned back, eyes traveling the luxurious interior of the penthouse.
"Nice place," he commented when Taehyungie returned and handed him the glass. He took a long sip, then chuckled under his breath. "You've really... upgraded."
Taehyungie raised an eyebrow slightly, ignoring the way Jungkook's hand froze mid-reach for a plush bunny. "It's peaceful," she said evenly. "And secure. The twins needed that."
"The security almost frisked me like I was a criminal," Hyunjae joked, though a hint of bitterness slipped through. "Had to name drop you twice."
"It's necessary," Taehyungie replied, tone clipped. "We had an incident not long ago."
Hyunjae hummed, his eyes following her movements more than her words. "Still... You look good, Taehyungie. I miss seeing you."
Her smile this time didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's been busy. A lot's changed."
Across the room, Jungkook didn't say a word, but he had stopped playing entirely. One hand rested on Taehyun's back while the other held a toy car, unmoving. He watched the exchange with guarded eyes, but said nothing.
"Daddy," Taeri whispered, climbing closer. "That man is loud."
Jungkook gave a soft chuckle under his breath. "He's just visiting, baby."
"Hmph," she huffed, picking up her plushie. "He talks too much. Play the judge again."
Hyunjae glanced at them briefly, clearly irked by how attached the twins were to Jungkook—children who clearly had no intention of giving him even a slice of their attention.
After a few more minutes, Taehyungie rose. "I'll be back." She gave a quick, polite smile and disappeared down the hallway toward her room.
As soon as her footsteps faded, Hyunjae turned toward the twins.
"Taehyun. Taeri," he called, voice a little higher now, forced cheer in it. "Don't you want to come say hello?"
The children barely blinked. Taehyun muttered something about a plushie needing emergency surgery, while Taeri dramatically announced that the talent show was in its final round. Neither turned his way.
Jungkook smiled faintly, but didn't intervene. "Wow," Hyunjae muttered. "They really are yours, huh?"
Jungkook looked up, brow twitching. "Excuse me?"
Hyunjae leaned closer, setting the empty glass down with a click. "I mean, they clearly love you. Can't tear their eyes away. But it's late, isn't it?" His tone dipped into something colder. "You're still here?"
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "This is my home too. They're my children."
"Right," Hyunjae muttered, then smiled like it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, I was hoping to speak to Taehyungie privately, if you don't mind. Just for a moment."
Jungkook didn't move. Hyunjae stood up, smoothing his shirt. "I hope you'll excuse us. Some things are better said without... background noise."
The subtle jab landed, but Jungkook didn't flinch. He simply turned back to the twins, who were now building a plushie pyramid with a level of focus that rivaled architects.
Taehyun sighed loudly. "Daddy, focus. The bunny needs his turn."
Jungkook smiled, soft but resolute. "I'm here, baby." From the hallway, footsteps padded softly—Taehyungie returning, unaware that tension hung thick in the air like fog.
And the room, though quiet, was anything but calm.
Taehyungie smiled politely as she handed it to Hyunjae. "Here," she said. "It's the one you asked for."
He took it with a little bow of his head, casting another look toward the twins—still wholly preoccupied with Jungkook. His lips twitched into a half-smile that didn't quite hide his frustration.
"I should go," he said finally, adjusting his watch. "Didn't mean to overstay."
Taehyungie nodded once, walking with him to the door. Her steps were calm, but she could sense Jungkook's eyes on her back, even if he said nothing.
As she opened the door and let the cool night air in, Hyunjae lingered in the threshold, fingers brushing the spine of the book she'd just given him.
"Listen," he said, quieter now, his tone softening, "how about I take you out sometime?"
Taehyungie blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"A proper date," he continued with a hopeful, lopsided smile. "Dinner, wine, no plushies in sight. Just... you and me, like before everything got so complicated."
There was a pause.
Taehyungie's expression didn't shift much—but her eyes dimmed, just slightly. "Hyunjae," she said gently, "I appreciate the offer, but... no. I'm not interested."
He let out a breathy laugh, the rejection not unexpected, but still a blow. "Why?" he asked. "Because of him?"
Taehyungie's jaw tightened. "This isn't about Jungkook."
"Isn't it?" Hyunjae challenged softly, his voice dipping into something bitter. "Taehyungie, he left you. Pregnant. Alone. In Paris. You built all this with blood in your mouth. And now he just walks back in and—what? Gets to have this domestic little fairytale again?"
Her hand on the door tightened. She didn't look at him right away.
"You don't get to say that," she finally whispered. "Why not?" he snapped, voice still low but sharp. "You deserve someone who didn't abandon you. Someone who never made you cry in the first place."
Taehyungie turned to him then, her gaze fierce but composed. "My past, my choices, and the people I choose to let in—those are mine to carry. Not yours to dissect."
He opened his mouth again, but she raised a hand to stop him. "I said no, Hyunjae. That should be enough."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Hyunjae nodded stiffly. "You've changed." Taehyungie smiled. "Thanks."
With nothing left to say, he stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door slowly behind him, sealing the quiet back in.
When she turned around, the twins were still tangled in Jungkook's arms, now dozing beneath the half-built plushie tower. Jungkook didn't speak, but he looked at her with something deep in his eyes—something like guilt.
Taehyungie inhaled slowly.. Her gaze lingered on the man playing father to her children—the same man she once swore she would never forgive.
And yet, here he was.
Jungkook stayed on the floor long after tucking his twins to bed .
But his thoughts were nowhere near the present. "Hyunjae's words had lodged themselves deep in his chest, like splinters too fine to pull free.
"Isn't it because of him?"
"He left you. Pregnant. Alone. In Paris."
"You built all this without him."
Jungkook's jaw clenched as he stared into the darkened hallway where Taehyungie had disappeared.
Guilt wrapped around his spine like frost. No matter how many laughs he shared with his children.
No matter how many nights he stayed.
No matter how many gentle glances Taehyungie gave him when she thought he wasn't looking—
—he still felt like a ghost trying to reclaim a life that had moved on without him.
The sound of soft footsteps pulled him from his haze.
Taehyungie appeared from the shadows of the hallway she approached quietly, crouching next to him with a look of concern that reached all the way into his marrow.
"Hey." she said, voice low.
She watched him for a beat longer. Then, without warning, she climbed onto his lap—her legs straddling him gently, the hem of her knit set brushing his thighs.
"Taehyungie—" his voice cracked with surprise. She hushed him, cupping his face delicately between her palms.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, brows drawn with soft concern.
He shook his head weakly. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing," she whispered back, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone.
He closed his eyes under her touch, his voice thick. "I heard what he said."
She went still.
"I know what I did to you," Jungkook continued, barely audible. "And I know—no matter how close we get, no matter how much they love me... a part of you still wonders if I'll leave again."
"Don't," she said, firm but gentle.
"I don't blame you if you do," he murmured. "You raised them without me. You built a world that didn't include me. And sometimes... sometimes I feel like a stranger invited into a dream I don't deserve."
Taehyungie stared at him, her heart cracking wide open. Then she leaned in and pressed her forehead against his.
"Jungkook," she said softly. "You don't get to decide what you deserve. That's not your job anymore."
His hands gripped her waist, desperate and unsure.
"You're here now. You stayed. That's all that matters."
She pulled back just enough to cup his cheeks again, her thumbs drawing small, steady circles.
"Don't let someone else's bitterness rewrite the story we're trying to build," she whispered. "Don't let fear take away what's already ours."
Then she kissed him. Slow and sure. No fireworks. No dramatics.
Just warmth. Just home.
Jungkook melted into her, one hand rising to cradle the back of her head, the other pulling her closer like he was afraid she might vanish. Taehyungie kissed him again, slower this time, lips brushing like a promise unspoken.
When they parted, she whispered against his lips, "Just focus on us. Me. You. The twins. That's all that matters."
He nodded, eyes shining. "Okay." She smiled gently. "Good."
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 34: Back to where it all began
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A week had passed.
Seven days of learning each other again in the softest, smallest ways.
Jungkook brushing the twins' hair with surprising gentleness. Quiet glances shared across the hallway.
Movie nights that turned into unspoken confessions curled beneath blankets.
Touches lingering longer than they used to. Smiles that started to feel less guarded.
But peace, it seemed, was always fleeting.
The night before, Jungkook had received a call. Hoseok's voice had been terse, urgent.
"You need to come back. In person. No questions. It can't be done over the phone."
And now, on a late Parisian afternoon, the echo of that call hung heavy in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst.
His suitcase sat silently beside the door, its zippers shut tight like the emotions Jungkook had been trying to keep contained since morning. The staff had already taken most of his things down to the private car waiting outside the building.
He stood by the window now, watching the sky. Pale, blue, and indifferent.
Taehyungie stood behind him, arms crossed loosely, expression unreadable. She hadn't said much since he told her this morning.
"It's sudden," he had said, quietly.
"I don't have a choice." She had only nodded, stiff and silent.
And breakfast had been worse.
The moment Jungkook told the twins, the tears began. Both had clung to his legs, refusing to eat. Taehyun's lip quivered as he hiccupped, "But you just got here..."
Taeri buried her face into Jungkook's chest and sobbed, making him promise again and again that he would come back soon.
It had taken Taehyungie nearly an hour to calm them down.
Now, they were asleep in their room—exhausted from crying for the second time that day, faces damp and puffy against their pillows.
Jungkook turned away from the window, his chest tightening at the sight of Taehyungie near the door.
"You don't have to come and see me off," he said softly. "They've cried enough today."
Taehyungie nodded once, lips pressed into a thin line. "Okay."
Silence stretched between them. The kind that comes only when there's too much left unsaid.
Jungkook stepped closer, his voice rough. "I'll call. Every day. I'll video call , I'll send pictures—"
"You don't have to promise all that," Taehyungie whispered, eyes cast low.
"I want to," he said. "Not for only them. For us too."
She glanced up. Her breath caught as his hand reached for hers, warm and sure, fingers intertwining like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Hey," Jungkook said softly, tipping her chin up with his fingers. "You don't have to say anything... but I need you to know something."
Before she could ask, he leaned down and kissed her—a kiss that wasn't rushed or desperate, but tender and slow. A kiss that tasted of promise.
When he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, Taehyungie."
Taehyungie froze, the words brushing over her skin like a breeze she couldn't catch. Her lips parted, but no reply came. Only a blooming warmth and the furious blush on her cheeks betrayed her emotions.
Jungkook smiled faintly, cupping her cheek for one final moment before stepping back reluctantly releasing her hand. The staff outside the door gave a subtle knock, signaling that everything was ready.
He cast one last look toward the hallway where his children slept. His heart ached to go in, to hold them again, to say something more—
But he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to leave.
So he didn't.
He turned to Taehyungie, eyes tender. "I'll see you soon," he said.
She nodded, arms still folded across herself, guarding the part of her heart that had just begun to trust again.
The door clicked shut. And she stood there, still as glass.
Only when the soft hum of the elevator disappeared down the hall did she let her shoulders drop. Her feet carried her to the window, where she watched the black car pull away from the circular drive below.
Taehyungie let out a shaky breath—a sigh that carried longing, sadness... and something quietly hopeful.
The private jet cut through the night sky like a silent arrow, its cabin cloaked in soft golden lighting and haunting quiet. But Jungkook couldn't rest. Couldn't sleep. Not when the only thing echoing in his chest was the memory of Taehyungie's flushed cheeks, Taeri and Taehyun's small sobs, their fingers tangled in his sleeves that morning, their sleepy voices trembling as they begged him not to go.
Outside, the sky was velvet black. Seoul loomed beneath him now like a memory he never wanted to revisit—cold and familiar, like a wound that never fully healed.
When the jet finally touched down, everything felt... off. The air was heavier, the silence of the city less forgiving than he remembered.
A convoy of black cars waited at the tarmac. Hoseok stood at the front, arms folded, his posture rigid, face tight with urgency.
Jungkook descended the stairs alone. No assistants. No guards. No theatrics.
Just him—now a father, a changed man, stepping back into a world he no longer belonged to.
"You're late," Hoseok muttered as they slipped into the backseat of the waiting car. His voice was sharp, tight with unspoken pressure.
"I left my whole life back there," Jungkook said coldly. "They deserved more than a rushed goodbye."
Hoseok sighed. "Fair. But I couldn't risk saying too much over the phone. We have a real problem."
The engine rumbled to life. Seoul's skyline bled past the windows, its cold glow casting shadows on Jungkook's face.
"What happened?" Jungkook asked, voice low.
Hoseok looked at him carefully. "The company's under attack."
Jungkook froze. "What kind of attack?"
"A full-scale breach. Financial manipulation, hacking, leaks—everything. Our competitors are coordinating, and someone inside is helping them. It's deliberate."
Jungkook's heart dropped. "When did this start?"
"A few days ago. We tried to contain it but... it's worse than we thought. They're targeting your position, your name, everything."
Jungkook stared ahead, rage slowly curling through him. "And you're only telling me this now?"
"I didn't want to drag you into it unless I had to. But it's spiraling."
"And my father?"
"He doesn't know yet," Hoseok said. Jungkook exhaled harshly, jaw tightening. "Do we know who's behind it?"
"Not yet. But there's a list. Some names we didn't expect. And it's not just business—they're trying to ruin your credibility, Jungkook."
He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of it all pressing down. "They won't succeed."
"They're counting on you being distracted. Emotionally compromised."
Jungkook turned his head, gaze icy. "I'm not."
The car pulled into the private penthouse—grand, immaculate, and hollow. His old prison. His fortress.
He stepped out and was met with silence, the air around him thick with tension.
The house was pristine, untouched. But nothing about it felt like home anymore.
Upstairs in his room, Jungkook stood by the window, hands shoved in his pockets. Seoul's lights blinked in the distance, but they felt far away.
Not like the warm chaos of Paris, where laughter bounced off every wall, where toys littered the floor and two small voices called him Daddy.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Taehyungie.
'The twins finally stopped crying. I told them you'd call before bed. They miss you.'
His throat tightened. Then another message. 'Call when you can. We're waiting.' He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, thumb hovering over the video call button.
Taehyungie's face appeared instantly. Her hair was down, her eyes tired but soft. The twins curled up beside her, wide-eyed the second they saw him.
"Daddy!" He smiled—finally.
Not the sharp smile of Jeon Corp's heir. But the real one—the one that only Paris had taught him to wear again.
--
The penthouse was far too quiet.
Even with the lullabies humming softly from the nursery monitor, even with the twins finally asleep after speaking to their father but there was a kind of silence that didn't just fill the room.
It filled her chest. Taehyungie sat curled on the edge of the couch, one hand around a cooling mug of tea, the other pressed over her heart like she was trying to keep it from shattering.
Jungkook was gone.
And though he'd promised he'd be back, promised to call every day, promised not to leave them again... she still felt like something had been ripped from her.
Maybe it was because of the way Taeri cried until her face was blotchy, or the way Taehyun buried himself into her lap, refusing to let go of the shirt Jungkook had worn the day before.
Or maybe... it was the way she didn't say I love you back.
She sighed, tilting her head back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed. Her heart felt raw—torn between the strength she'd carefully rebuilt over the years and the warmth Jungkook had slowly reawakened.
She missed him. God, she missed him.
And she hated that a little. Because it shouldn't be this hard to breathe just because he wasn't here.
Her eyes drifted to the framed photo on the console—one they'd taken just last weekend, at Claire's mansion. The twins laughing wildly, frosting on their faces, Jungkook standing behind them, his hand just barely resting on her lower back, his smile soft and a little shy.
She bit her lip.
She hadn't told him.
Not with words. But now, wrapped in this aching stillness, she wondered if she should have said it back.
If only to give him something to hold onto.
The kettle clicked off again in the kitchen, the second time she'd forgotten about boiling water. She didn't move.
Instead, she picked up her phone. His message was there—just sent minutes ago.
'Daddy loves you, little stars. Sleep tight.' Her throat tightened. She clutched the phone to her chest, eyes burning.
She'd worked so hard to become the woman who didn't break, who didn't cry at night, who raised her children without needing anyone.
And yet— Tonight she felt like the girl she was once so in love that it hurts. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
'We miss you.'
'Come home soon.'
'I didn't say it then but...'
She deleted each message before she could hit send. Instead, she opened her gallery, scrolled to a short clip she'd taken just after putting the twins to sleep—Taeri kissing the phone screen, Taehyun whispering a sleepy, "I love you, Daddy."
She hit send.
No words.
Just that video.
And then she placed the phone down, buried her face in her palms, and for the first time since he left, let a tear fall.
But only one. Because tomorrow, she would smile for the twins. Tomorrow, she would be strong.
But tonight...
Tonight, she missed him.
And that was enough.
--
The grand iron gates of the Jeon mansion creaked open like the mouth of a slumbering beast.
The car rolled up the white-stone driveway, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and towering columns, the weight of the past hung over him like a storm cloud.
The mansion stood just as it always had—immaculate, imposing, cold.
Jungkook stepped out, his shoes echoing against the marble steps, and before he could even knock, the butler opened the massive double doors.
"Master Jungkook..." the man breathed, visibly stunned. Jungkook didn't smile. He simply nodded, stepping inside the place he used to call home.
He wasn't here for nostalgia. He wasn't here for reconciliation.
He was here because the company—his company—was under siege, and there were things only his father could understand.
Still, he didn't expect to run into his mother so soon.
"Jungkook?" came a soft, stunned voice. Yeona stood at the foot of the staircase, her elegant hands frozen over a silk shawl. She looked every bit the regal matron she had always been—but her eyes were wide and glistening.
Joy.
She rushed to him without thinking, arms outstretched, and Jungkook let her wrap him in an embrace that still felt like safety.
"You didn't tell me you were coming," she whispered, brushing his hair back like he was still her boy.
"It was sudden," Jungkook said quietly.
Before more could be said, slow footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Chairman Jeon appeared, his posture stiff, a slight falter in his step that hadn't been there before. His eyes landed on Jungkook—and for a long moment, father and son stared at each other.
The chairman looked like he wanted to embrace him too—but didn't dare.
He cleared his throat. "Welcome home."
Jungkook didn't respond. He just looked away. It was answer enough. Yeona glanced between them, her heart breaking at the distance.
"Why are you in Seoul?" she asked softly, gesturing for him to sit in the drawing room.
Jungkook walked in but didn't sit. "The company's under attack." The air in the room shifted instantly. Chairman Jeon's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"There's a security breach. Financial systems were compromised. Stocks are fluctuating from internal manipulation. We don't know who's behind it yet—but we will." His voice was calm, sharp.
Yeona placed a hand on her chest, worried. "My God..." Chairman Jeon's face had gone pale.
"I didn't want to come," Jungkook admitted, his voice softer now. "I almost didn't."
"But you did," Yeona said with a small, knowing smile. "Because you care. Because you always did."
She reached out to hold his hand, her thumb stroking gently over his knuckles. "And how are my lovely grandchildren?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "And my stunning daughter-in-law?"
Jungkook's cheeks colored slightly at the last part. "They're good. Really good."
Yeona's smile widened. "I want to meet them soon."
"You will." Just then, a maid appeared and whispered something into Yeona's ear. She turned back with a warm expression. "Lunch is ready. Stay, please. Just for a little while."
"I was going to head out—"
"Stay," Chairman Jeon said, almost too quickly. Jungkook looked at him. The man who had driven him away, controlled him, broken him in more ways than one. But... he wasn't that same boy anymore. And his heart—still bruised—couldn't quite say no.
"...Fine," Jungkook muttered. Yeona looked grateful. "Come."
They ate in the golden sunroom, where light filtered through tall windows, casting soft shadows over white linen and glinting cutlery. The maids served quietly, and Yeona fussed as always, adding meat to Jungkook's plate, making sure his soup was warm enough.
It was oddly comforting. Until the silence was broken. Chairman Jeon cleared his throat. "Jungkook."
Jungkook didn't look up. "I owe you more than an apology," his father began, voice low, rough. "I owe you... a lifetime of regret."
That made Jungkook pause.
"I failed you," he continued, eyes fixed on his plate. "Not just as a father, but as a man. I didn't see your pain when you were young. I only saw your potential. I pushed. I demanded. I... broke things."
Jungkook finally looked up, jaw tight. "I thought I was making you strong," Chairman Jeon said, his voice cracking slightly. "But I was making you cold. Empty. And I kept doing it—even when I knew better. Even when you walked away."
Yeona glanced at her son, her eyes urging him to listen.
"I hated you," Jungkook said flatly, voice steady. "I hated how you crushed everything I loved. How you made me believe softness was weakness. You destroyed my chance at a normal youth. I was just a boy, and you turned me into a weapon."
His father's eyes began to glisten.
"I lost the girl I loved because of you," Jungkook continued, pain sharpening every word. "And I missed the first 5 years of my children's lives because I didn't know how to fight for them. Because of what you taught me."
The silence that followed was thick. Wounding. "I'm sorry," Chairman Jeon said, standing slowly, eyes glassy. "I can't undo the past. But... I want to earn your forgiveness. Even if it takes the rest of my life."
Jungkook didn't answer right away. But his expression softened—just barely.
Not because he forgave him. But because he was finally heard. And for the first time in a long time, there was something in Chairman Jeon's eyes Jungkook had never seen before.
Regret. Real, unfiltered regret.
Maybe that was a start.
Maybe.
--
Three days.
It had been three days since Jungkook left, but for Taehyungie, it felt like forever.
The Paris sun still spilled through the windows the same way, the coffee still brewed the same scent every morning, and the twins still giggled at cartoons on the floor—but the house felt a little too quiet. A little too still.
Jungkook called every night, without fail. Video calls filled with soft smiles and "I miss yous," whispered goodnights to the twins, and eyes that lingered too long on her face like he was memorizing it all over again. He kept his promise. But still...
She missed him. More than she was willing to admit out loud.
Claire and Jiminie had arrived that afternoon, their visit unannounced but somehow perfectly timed. Claire swept in with her usual grace, arms full of flowers and pastries, and Jiminie had her arms wide open for the twins. It was loud for a moment—laughs, greetings, kisses on cheeks, excited squeals—but eventually, the house settled again.
Taehyungie sat with them on the couch now, cradling a warm mug between her palms, legs tucked under her, her head resting against the cushions.
"He calls," she murmured, voice soft like a sigh, "he checks in. Morning. Night. Always. But..."
Claire tilted her head, watching her closely. "I miss him," Taehyungie admitted, her voice cracking on the last word. "Like I miss... parts of myself."
Silence fell, but not uncomfortably. Jiminie reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, while Claire leaned back, fingers tapping her teacup lightly.
For a while, she said nothing. Then—with that signature smirk curling on her lips—Claire stood. "Well, I suppose we should go to Seoul, then."
Taehyungie blinked. "W–What?"
Claire tossed her silver hair behind her shoulder. "What do you mean what? You're clearly miserable. The twins miss their father. And I haven't had a decent Korean meal in years."
"But... what about Maison Duval?" Taehyungie sat up straighter, panic edging into her tone. "We have shows coming up. Meetings. The staff—"
"Are capable," Claire cut in smoothly, raising a brow. "That's why we hire professionals, ma chérie. Let them run the house. They're not children."
Taehyungie stared.
Claire looked over to Jiminie. "Does your charming Yoongi have access to a private jet?"
Jiminie chuckled. "He wouldn't mind. But even if he did, you'd probably just use yours."
"Of course I would," Claire said with a huff, flipping her wrist dramatically. "You think I'm flying commercial with two children and a broken-hearted fashion queen? Please."
Taehyungie burst into a wet laugh, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears clung to her lashes, but they sparkled now—lightened.
On the other end of the living room, the twins were sprawled on the floor watching a cartoon when they perked up.
"Mama!" Taehyun called out, eyes wide. "Did you say jet?!"
Taeri sat up immediately. "Is it for the princess in the movie?!"
Taehyungie giggled, wiping under her eyes. "No, baby. Not a princess." She walked over to them and crouched, pulling both into her arms.
"It's to visit your daddy."
The twins squealed, Taeri clapping her hands while Taehyun did a little jump in place.
Claire looked on fondly, her expression softening. Jiminie watched Taehyungie carefully, her heart aching in a way only best friends could understand.
And for the first time in days, Taehyungie's chest felt lighter.
Maybe going to Seoul wasn't the plan... But maybe it was exactly what her heart needed.
The towering glass walls of Jeon Enterprises gleamed under the Seoul afternoon light, but inside the CEO's private floor, the atmosphere was anything but calm.
The conference room buzzed with quiet urgency. Screens flickered with surveillance footage, timelines, and coded reports. Jungkook sat at the head of the long black table, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, jaw locked in a tense line.
Beside him, Hoseok paced, his brows furrowed as security personnel recited timelines and breach reports.
"They hit our cloud servers first," one of them explained. "Then our European accounts. Whoever's doing this knows your company from the inside."
Jungkook's eyes were fixed on the screen. A black-clad figure slipped through a hallway in grainy footage from the Milan branch two weeks ago. He rewound it, played it again. No ID. No face.
"Cross-reference with all former employees from the past three years," he muttered, voice cold. "Get me files. Now."
"Yes, sir."
He leaned back, exhaustion beginning to creep behind his eyes—but something else too. A dull throb in his chest.
He picked up his phone again, unlocking it with a tap of his thumb.
Still no response. Taehyungie's name sat at the top of his messages, the last one he'd sent glowing dully.
"Did you and the twins eat yet? Call me when you're free, angel." Delivered. Not read. No reply.
He scrolled up a little, rereading the photo she'd sent last night—the twins with chocolate all over their mouths, both smiling wide. He had stared at it until he fell asleep.
He checked his call log again. Two missed calls to Taehyungie. No answer.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
"You're distracted." Jungkook looked up. Hoseok had stopped pacing and was watching him, arms crossed.
"Don't start," Jungkook muttered. "I'm not." Hoseok sat in the chair beside him. "But you keep checking your phone like someone's about to die."
Jungkook sighed heavily. "I called Taehyungie a few hours ago. No answer. Sent a text. Still nothing."
Hoseok tilted his head. "And that's unlike her?" "She always replies." His fingers gripped the phone tighter. "Even when the kids are throwing tantrums or she's in a meeting. She never goes silent."
"You think something's wrong?" Jungkook didn't respond right away.
But the dread in his chest said yes. "She told me the kids missed me three days ago," he said quietly. "I know her. If she's quiet, something's not right."
Before Hoseok could respond, one of the IT staff rushed into the room with a tablet. "Sir, you need to see this."
Jungkook stood instantly, his instincts flaring. But even as he turned to the screen, his eyes flicked once more to his phone—
Still nothing.
And in the silence of the room, as another shadow appeared on the screen and files began unspooling secrets no one had expected—
All Jungkook could think of was her. And why her voice, always his anchor, hadn't found him yet.
Hoseok leaned forward, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes narrowing.
2 hours later...
"This," the head of cybersecurity began, "was pulled from our Zurich branch's internal system. It was encrypted under three layers and set to self-wipe after 48 hours. We were lucky we caught it."
The screen flickered, revealing a blurry image—an overhead of a dark-clothed figure plugging something into the network terminal. The timestamp was only two days old.
"Internal sabotage," Hoseok said grimly.
Jungkook was silent, his gaze locked on the screen. His body was in the room, but his mind was somewhere else—someone else. He glanced at his phone again under the table.
Still no message.
Still no missed call.
He tapped out another quick line with a tight chest: "Just let me know you're okay. Please." The moment he hit send, he shoved the phone aside, guilt eating at him.
"Sir," a second security officer spoke up, "we believe the breaches are orchestrated. Possibly multiple people, from within and outside. This isn't random. Someone wants Jeon Enterprises to fall—and fast."
"They're going after our patents and high-tier client lists," Hoseok added. "We've already isolated the infected sectors, but whoever's doing this, they know how you think. They're not trying to steal—they're trying to ruin."
Jungkook's jaw ticked. His voice was sharp and low: "Then let's find out who it is."
"Yes, sir. We've narrowed it down to six suspects so far. We're cross-tracking locations and access patterns—"
"Update me every hour. No excuses."
"Yes, sir." The staff cleared out to resume their search, leaving Jungkook and Hoseok alone once more in the room. The low hum of the overhead lights was the only sound.
Hoseok reached for a bottled water, but paused when he saw Jungkook's hand trembling slightly as he rubbed his temple.
"You're unraveling," he said bluntly, yet not unkindly. Jungkook let out a humorless chuckle. "I left my heart in Paris, hyung. I didn't think it would ache this much."
"She probably just got busy. Maybe got invited to some event. Or maybe the kids are being fussy."
"Maybe," Jungkook murmured. "But Taehyungie would let me know. Even if it's just one emoji. Something."
He stared down at the screen. Nothing new. "You think someone's silencing her?" Hoseok asked, now more serious.
"I don't want to think that." His voice dipped lower. "But this attack... it feels too personal."
Hoseok exhaled slowly. "You're not just protecting a company anymore. You're protecting a family."
"I know." Jungkook's eyes burned. "And I wasn't there the last time everything fell apart. If something happens now—"
"It won't." Hoseok's voice was firm. "You're not that boy anymore. You're the man who came back stronger."
Jungkook didn't answer. He picked up his phone one more time.
Still no message. His gut twisted.
And somewhere beneath all the logic, all the strategy, all the boardroom steel—
A quiet, mounting fear began to bloom.
The flight had been gentle. Quiet. The sky outside the windows a pale wash of golden dusk as the jet descended into Seoul.
Jiminie had managed to pull some strings—Yoongi, as usual, made it easy—and Taehyungie hadn't even needed to tell her brother they were coming. He'd only learn of it after the fact, probably with a teasing scold and a soft hug.
And now, after landing, two black cars waited at the terminal. Claire and Jiminie would head to the Kim residence. Taehyungie and the twins would go to him.
To Jungkook.
"Do you have the address?" Claire asked, stepping into her car with a subtle smirk. Taehyungie nodded, fingers tightening around the printed card. "Jiminie got it for me."
"And the passcode?" Jiminie added with a mischievous brow raise. Taehyungie looked away, heat touching her cheeks. "Yoongi gave it."
Claire chuckled knowingly. "On your birthday, no less. Men like him don't forget dates like that."
Taehyungie didn't reply. She only smiled softly. They exchanged hugs. The twins waved cheerfully from the backseat, bundled in matching hoodies. "Bye, Auntie Minnie! Bye, God mother Claire!"
"Tell your Daddy to feed you well!" Jiminie called. "And if not, call me," Claire added, folding herself elegantly into the car.
The second car pulled away, gliding into Seoul's traffic. Taehyungie sat quietly in the backseat, nestled between her children, their small hands in hers.
"Are we going to Daddy's house now?" Taeri asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement despite the sleepiness tugging at her.
"Yes," Taehyungie said, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter's face. "He'll be surprised."
"Is Daddy working?" Taehyun mumbled, already half-dozing. Taehyungie nodded, gazing out the window at the blur of Seoul's skyline. "Probably."
The car slowed at a red light. The city had changed—but not really. It still felt like a memory she didn't know where to place.
Funny, how I keep finding myself back here. The quiet hum of the vehicle was filled only with the occasional yawn or small giggle from the twins. Taehyungie sighed.
Paris felt so far away now.
Moments later, they pulled up in front of a towering glass building. The driver stepped out and began unloading the luggage. The doorman, recognizing the family from some discreet notice Yoongi must've given, tipped his head politely and opened the doors.
The children were instantly energized. "Let's gooo!" Taeri cried, grabbing her twin's hand and dashing toward the elevator.
"Wait—don't run—!" Taehyungie called, laughing lightly as she followed them.
"They act like Jungkook's waiting upstairs with cake and party hats," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes with affection.
Inside the elevator, she finally keyed in the code.
Her birthday. Her heart skipped once. Not because it was clever—but because it was him. And no matter what had happened, it meant he remembered.
The elevator dinged. They stepped into the penthouse. The door clicked open.
And Taehyungie froze. It was beautiful. Clean. Sleek. Expensive.
But cold.
The furniture was modern. The lighting ambient. But it didn't feel like a home. It didn't smell like cinnamon pancakes and spilled crayons or carry the warm chaos of kids yelling across the hall. There was no music humming faintly from another room. No scuffed rugs or cluttered countertops.
Just a well-dressed emptiness.
"Whoa!" Taeri gasped. "This place is huge!" "Look at this TV!" Taehyun yelled, racing past her.
Taehyungie stepped inside slowly, fingers brushing the edge of the polished wall. It doesn't feel like the place he lived in as a teen. That house was gilded, but it had ghosts. This place? It was newer. Quieter.
But still...Still not alive.
She dropped their coats on a nearby armchair and wandered through the living room, her eyes catching on the bare walls and muted colors.
No family photos. No art. No pastel. No warmth.
She stared at the blank space above the fireplace and found herself imagining soft frames—photos of the twins, maybe one of her and Jungkook during that date night. Maybe a watercolor Taeri made. Something soft.
Something real.
She wandered toward the large floor-to-ceiling window and watched the city unfold beneath her. Somewhere out there, Jungkook was working.
And here she was. Back in Seoul. Back where it all began. And maybe, this time, it wouldn't end in tears.
Not if she could help it.
--
Jungkook was exhausted.
His body ached. His mind was wired. The weight of Seoul's chaos clung to him like a second skin as the private elevator ascended floor by floor. Every meeting had been endless, every face either panicked or accusing. Hoseok had done his best to keep things running, but even he was worn thin.
And worst of all, Taehyungie hadn't picked up his last call. The moment he entered the passcode, the elevator doors slid open with a chime.
And his feet froze. Because something was off. The air was... lighter.
A scent lingered—a hint of vanilla and orange peels. Familiar. Like home. His heart began to pound. He stepped inside slowly. Then he heard it.
Laughter. And a shriek.
Tiny feet padding across the hallway tiles. The gasp left his mouth before he even meant it.
"Daddyyyyyyyy!!!"
Two small bodies slammed into his legs before he had time to blink.
"Tae— Taehyun? Taeri?" Jungkook dropped to his knees as his children tackled him, their arms wrapping around him so tightly it made him breathless.
He was stunned. Disoriented. "What—? When—?"
"We missed you soooo much!" Taeri squealed, pressing kisses on his cheeks. "You're not allowed to leave again!" Taehyun pouted, tugging at his shirt.
Jungkook's arms instinctively enveloped them, crushing them to his chest.
He was trembling.
"I missed you more," he whispered hoarsely, burying his face into their hair. "God, I missed you so much."
It wasn't until a few heartbeats later that he heard the soft shuffle of feet behind him.
He turned. And there she was.
Taehyungie stood quietly by the hallway arch, arms crossed gently, her hair tied up in a soft bun. She looked tired. Like she hadn't been sleeping much. But her eyes... they were shimmering with unshed emotion.
She gave him a small smile. "Surprise," she said quietly. Jungkook rose slowly, still clinging to his children. "You came," he breathed.
She shrugged, her voice light. "The kids missed you "
I missed you
His throat tightened. "You should've told me you were coming. I would've—"
"We wanted it to be a surprise," she interrupted gently. "The twins couldn't stop asking about you. And I... I just thought..." She looked away. "I just thought maybe you shouldn't come home to silence."
Something in him cracked. The kids darted away, arguing over who would tell their daddy about the plane snacks first.
And Jungkook crossed the room, slowly. When he reached her, he didn't say anything at first. He just looked at her.
So much had changed. But right now, standing in this sterile penthouse, with her in front of him and the kids' voices echoing behind, he realized what was missing.
It wasn't a family portrait or soft décor. It was them. And they were here now.
"You shouldn't have come," he whispered, voice rough. "There's danger—my company is still under attack and—"
"I know," she said softly. "Claire knows. Jiminie too. Yoongi told us enough."
"Then why—?" "Because you needed us more than we needed Paris."
Her words landed like a punch to his ribs.
Taehyungie stepped forward, her hand brushing against his chest lightly. "You weren't eating. You weren't sleeping. You were calling too much but saying too little. Jungkook, I could feel you slipping."
He looked down, guilt flashing across his face. "And I know what it's like," she added. "To come home to emptiness."
Silence lingered between them. "Thank you," he finally murmured.
Her smile returned, genuine. "You don't have to thank me. Just... be here. For them. For me."
Just then, the twins ran back in, dragging their little backpacks. "We brought toys!" Taeri cried. "And Mama said we could sleep here!"
"Is it true? Is this our new house, Daddy?" Taehyun asked. Jungkook looked at Taehyungie, unsure.
Taehyungie raised a brow. "Well, is it?"
He dropped to one knee again, scooping both kids into his arms. "If you want it to be, then yes. This is your home. For now though."
Their squeals of joy filled the space, echoing off walls that no longer felt cold.
Later that evening, as they unpacked some of the kids' things, Jungkook walked past the fireplace and paused.
There, resting on the mantel, was a framed drawing—two tiny figures holding hands with a third, all wearing bunny ears. Crayon hearts in the background.
He smiled. Maybe the penthouse wasn't just a place to live anymore. Maybe it was finally becoming a home.
Evening...
The penthouse felt warmer.
Softer.
The way home should feel.
Dinner was done. The movie night had ended with the twins falling asleep mid-laughter, their small limbs tangled against Jungkook's sides as if trying to make up for all the days they'd been apart. He had carried them to bed one by one, his touch so careful, like they were made of glass.
Now, it was just him and Taehyungie.
And the silence between them was thick — not uncomfortable, but full. Heavy with everything unsaid.
She stood by the window, arms crossed, her silhouette framed by the distant Seoul skyline. The city sparkled behind her, but Jungkook could only see her. The way her hair spilled down her back. The way her shoulders rose and fell gently with each breath.
He moved.
Without words, without hesitation.
Jungkook walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder. The second his body touched hers, he exhaled — like he'd been holding his breath for days and only now remembered how to breathe.
Taehyungie stilled. Then slowly, gently, she melted into his hold. He held her tighter. Tighter than he should have. Tighter than he'd meant to.
His arms trembled just a little around her waist as he pulled her closer, like he was scared she'd vanish again if he loosened his grip. His chest pressed to her back, and his nose found the curve of her neck, eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled the soft scent of her.
"I missed you," he whispered hoarsely. "So much, Tae." She turned in his arms, and her eyes locked with his.
They were soft and full of something she couldn't name—longing, maybe. Or the ache of all the nights he hadn't been beside her. She reached up, fingers brushing against his jaw before settling on his cheeks, holding his face like it was the most precious thing she'd ever touched.
"Jungkook..." she murmured, voice trembling, "I'm here now."
His throat bobbed. Her thumbs wiped at a tear that had slipped down before he even noticed it had fallen.
"I would've come back even sooner if you'd asked me," she whispered.
"I didn't think I deserved to," he confessed.
Taehyungie shook her head and leaned in until their foreheads touched, her breath fanning against his lips. "Don't think," she said softly. "Just feel."
And then she kissed him.
Slow. Deep. Desperate in the gentlest way.
Her lips pressed to his like a question, and his answered without hesitation. His hands moved to her waist, then her back, then up to her hair, as if he couldn't decide where to touch her first — or last. Taehyungie's fingers threaded through his hair, her nails lightly scraping his scalp, drawing a low hum from his throat.
He kissed her like a starving man — like the days apart had withered him, and this kiss was the only water in a desert.
But it wasn't rushed. It was reverent.
Painfully slow, as if they had all the time in the world, as if the universe had paused just for them. Their mouths moved together in soft sync, and their bodies followed, like they'd done this dance for lifetimes.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Taehyungie rested her forehead against his again. Her eyes were closed, and Jungkook kept one hand on her waist, the other still tangled in her hair.
"I've missed that too," she breathed, lips still hovering over his. Jungkook gave a soft, breathy laugh. "Me too..."
They stood like that for a long moment before he cleared his throat. "I, uh..." he glanced away briefly, suddenly shy. "There are only two rooms here."
Taehyungie looked up at him, eyes gleaming in the low light. Her lips curled into a slow, teasing smile. "Just two?"
He nodded, cheeks pink. She giggled — soft and mischievous — and leaned up to kiss him again, just a quick press of lips, light and playful this time.
"I don't mind," she whispered against his mouth. "Do you?"
Jungkook's heart stuttered. He blinked at her, stunned for a moment before a wide smile broke across his face. "No," he said, voice low and full of affection. "I don't mind at all."
And as she laced her fingers through his and allowed him to led her toward the bedroom with that soft smile still playing on her lips.
Taehyungie giggled softly as Jungkook tried to act casual while switching off the hallway light. His ears were burning red, his hands fidgeting slightly as he led her down the familiar corridor.
He paused in front of the bedroom door, his hand on the handle, and glanced back at her.
"Are you... sure?" he asked quietly.
Taehyungie didn't speak right away. Instead, she stepped close, rose on her toes to press a feather-light kiss on his cheek.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," she whispered, eyes gleaming under the dim wall light.
Jungkook swallowed, nodded once, then opened the door.
The room wasn't extravagant — minimalist, clean, just like him. But something about Taehyungie walking in, barefoot and in her soft pastel hoodie, instantly made the space feel warmer. Like spring had walked into winter and decided to stay.
She perched on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap, waiting as Jungkook hesitated near the door, clearly unsure of what to do.
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" she teased, voice quiet but amused.
"I—no! I was just... uh..." He scratched the back of his neck and turned away, pretending to busy himself by turning off the lights one by one.
Taehyungie watched with a smile as the last lamp dimmed, leaving them in the soft glow of the moon peeking through the blinds. The tension in her chest had eased into something else now — a quiet kind of nervousness, the good kind. The kind that made her toes curl and her heart skip.
Jungkook finally slid under the blanket beside her, still awkward, still unsure. His movements were rigid, like he was afraid even his breathing might ruin the moment.
Taehyungie scooted closer. Closer until her shoulder brushed his. Until she could feel the heat from his skin.
Then she rested her head on his chest.
He froze.
But only for a second.
Because his arms, on instinct, wrapped around her — like memory, like muscle — pulling her into him so seamlessly it was as if he'd never forgotten how. She let out a sigh, a content hum that made his heart clench.
"I used to whine for this, remember?" she mumbled against his chest, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.
Jungkook blinked.
His heart swelled painfully at the sudden onrush of memory. Taehyungie at eleven, curled into his side on their movie nights, her soft grumbles when he shifted even an inch away. Her voice sleepily murmuring, "Cuddle me properly, Koo..." like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"God... I remember," he whispered.
His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, fingertips gently combing through her hair. "You always used to complain I wasn't warm enough. And now look at you..."
Taehyungie giggled, her laughter muffled by his shirt. "You're still not. But I'll make do."
Jungkook huffed a soft laugh, kissing the top of her head. His heart was racing, but his body felt at peace, like this was a place it recognized — her warmth, her presence, her weight against him.
Taehyungie shifted again, this time to face him fully, curling into his side. Her leg tangled with his under the blanket, and her hand slid to rest on his chest where his heart was pounding too fast.
"Koo," she whispered.
He looked down at her, heart skipping a beat. It's been almost a decade since he heard her calling him that name.
Taehyungie, oblivious of the storm she caused in his heart smiled, soft and sleepy.
"I like this."
He didn't trust himself to speak, so he kissed her instead — slow and sleepy, just a brush of lips that tasted like dreams and old memories. She sighed against his mouth, kissed him back, and then nuzzled into his neck with a contented hum.
"Goodnight," she murmured.
"Goodnight, baby."
She was asleep in minutes. But Jungkook... he didn't sleep just yet.
He lay there holding her, staring up at the ceiling with tears stinging his lashes — not out of pain, but out of something overwhelming and fragile and full.
She was here. In his arms. And suddenly, sleep didn't seem so urgent anymore.
--
The scent of coffee drifted through the penthouse like a soft promise, mingling with the quiet hum of morning light streaming through wide glass windows. In the kitchen, the world was alive with sound — the clinking of cutlery, little feet padding across tiles, and the sweetest laughter bubbling from the hearts of two children.
Taeri sat on the counter in her oversized bunny pajamas, a spoon clutched in her tiny hand as she helped stir pancake batter. Her twin, Taehyun, was on a step stool beside her, sneaking chocolate chips into his mouth every time he thought no one was watching.
"Yah, you little thief!" Jungkook gasped dramatically, scooping him up and spinning him in the air.
Taehyun squealed in delight, giggling so hard he could barely breathe. "Daddy! Again! Again!"
"After breakfast," Jungkook grinned, setting him down with a kiss to his forehead. He turned around to grab a plate when the sudden blare of music flooded the kitchen — upbeat and playful.
Taehyungie stood by the Bluetooth speaker, arms folded with a raised brow. "You're really playing this at 8 AM?"
"It's for the vibes," Jungkook said, already shimmying his shoulders in exaggerated motions. "C'mon, Miss Parisian Ice Queen, show us some moves!"
Taehyungie laughed — actually laughed — a beautiful, heart-deep sound that made the twins giggle. "You look ridiculous."
He didn't stop.
Jungkook twirled in his slippers, flipping pancakes with one hand while doing finger guns with the other, mouthing lyrics in dramatic flair. (That that I like that😏) His hair was a fluffy mess, his white t-shirt slightly flour-dusted, and his dimples were out in full bloom.
Taehyungie clutched her stomach from laughing too hard. "Stop, please— I can't—!"
Taeri clapped and shouted, "More, Daddy! More!" Even Taehyun, mid-bite, was shaking from silent laughter.
"You guys are the worst audience ever," Jungkook pouted, though his smile betrayed him.
Taehyungie wiped tears from her eyes, walking over. "Come here, you goof."
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a quick, breathless kiss — sweet and unexpected.
Jungkook blinked, stunned for a heartbeat. Taehyungie leaned back with a smirk. "You deserved that."
"Do it again," he whispered, eyes sparkling.
So she did.
This time slower. Longer. Her fingers brushing into his hair as the world fell quiet just for a moment. Behind them, the twins made kissing noises and gagged dramatically, but neither of them pulled away quickly. When they did, they were smiling too much to speak.
Jungkook pressed his forehead to hers. "This... this is my favorite version of life."
Taehyungie softened.
And maybe she hadn't said "I love you" yet. But in this kitchen, with giggles echoing and sunlight pouring in, it didn't matter.
Her smile said enough.
"Come eat before you burn everything," she teased, patting his chest and turning toward the table.
Jungkook looked at her — hair messy, cheeks flushed, the love of his life, the mother of his children — and followed with a full heart.
Breakfast was noisy and chaotic and imperfect. There was too much syrup, milk was spilled, and the pancakes weren't all golden.
But love?
Love was everywhere.
And in that imperfect mess, it was perfect.
--
The iron gates of the Kim residence swung open with a familiar groan, and for a heartbeat, Taehyungie felt like she was ten again—rushing home with her skirt flaring, hair catching the breeze, and Jiminie and Jinnie laughing beside her.
But this time, two small hands were in hers, and her heart carried not just memories, but her entire world.
Taehyun and Taeri burst forward as soon as the car halted, the twins clumsily racing toward the familiar porch, calling out, "Uncle Namjoon! Auntie Jinnie!"
The wooden doors opened in perfect timing.
Namjoon stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, looking the exact same except for the soft lines of wisdom age had drawn around his eyes. "You didn't even call. Not a single message."
Taehyungie winced playfully. "It was supposed to be a surprise."
Behind him, Jinnie appeared, rushing forward to kneel and scoop the twins into a tight hug. "My babies have grown taller!"
The twins giggled and leaned into her embrace as Taehyungie stepped forward, hugging her brother. "Surprise?"
Namjoon sighed. "You're lucky I like surprises," he muttered before ruffling her hair gently. "I almost got a heart attack when Jiminie and Claire walked in unannounced. And then you show up with the twins!"
Taehyungie turned to greet Jinnie properly—and froze. The sunlight caught on something brilliant resting on Jinnie's left hand. A delicate ring with a soft rose-gold hue shimmered, its stone catching the light like morning dew.
Taehyungie gasped, grabbing her hand instinctively. "Oh my god..." Jinnie flushed immediately, cheeks rosy as she ducked her head. "I—I was going to tell you."
Namjoon cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the tree nearby.
Jiminie and Claire chose that exact moment to come out, wearing her usual dramatic flair and timing. She faked a loud gasp. "That was exactly my reaction!"
Taehyungie's eyes flicked between her brother and her best friend—soon to be sister-in-law—and her lips curled into a smile so bright it could rival the sun. "Namjoon proposed?!"
Jinnie nodded with a shy smile, her eyes glistening. Taehyungie let out a squeal that could shake the heavens and pulled her friend into a tight embrace. "I can't believe it! When? How?!" Her voice trembled with excitement.
The twins looked up from Jinnie's legs, confused but happy to join the moment. "What happened, mama?" Taeri asked.
Taehyungie leaned down, scooping both of them up into her arms. "Your Auntie Jinnie's going to marry your Uncle Namjoon!"
The children blinked, then squealed too—mostly because their mama was excited. "I came to Seoul for a vacation," Jiminie said dramatically, "not wedding gown hunting. But nooooo," she drew out the word, throwing her hands in the air, "here we are!"
Everyone laughed—warm and full—echoing through the courtyard. Claire leaned toward Taehyungie, her voice soft. "It's good, isn't it? This kind of joy."
Taehyungie nodded, eyes shining. "It's like coming home." The moment was interrupted when the twins scrambled down and ran into the house.
"Where's Godmother Claire's room?" Taehyun called. "I wanna find the snacks!" Taeri added.
The adults laughed again, and Taehyungie shook her head, heart light. There was something about this house—its embrace never changed.
For now, she'd soak in this joy. She'd let herself breathe. And maybe later, she'd try calling Jungkook.
The laughter from downstairs slowly faded as Taehyungie climbed the stairs, her fingers trailing against the wall like she was tracing forgotten pages of a favorite book.
She pushed open the door to her old room.
It hadn't changed.
The soft beige curtains still swayed with the breeze, the bookshelf was still filled with poetry books and art journals, and in the corner by the window sat the little desk where she used to sketch dreams and doodle names she never dared to say aloud.
Her chest tightened.
She walked in slowly, almost reverently, and sat at the edge of her bed. The bedsheets had been changed, fresh and clean, but the scent of lavender — her favorite — still clung faintly to the pillows. A quiet sob built in her throat, but she swallowed it, choosing instead to lie back and stare at the ceiling that once saw her sleepless nights.
She turned her head. By the window, tucked in a tiny porcelain vase, sat a single preserved hydrangea. Blue and soft — pressed long ago, kept alive by time and sentiment.
Her eyes welled up.
She hadn't realized how much she missed this place. Not just the physical walls, but the feeling of safety, of being known without explanation.
Taehyungie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Jungkook's name.
It dialed and went through but no answer. Maybe he was busy. A soft knock on the door broke her thoughts. It creaked open and Jiminie peeked in. "Hey. You okay?"
Taehyungie blinked, then nodded. "Yeah... just taking a minute." Jiminie stepped inside, walking over with a knowing look. She sat beside her on the bed and didn't speak for a while. The silence was comfortable.
"He'll call," Jiminie said softly. "I know," Taehyungie whispered, even if part of her didn't. "I just... I miss him."
Jiminie smiled gently. "Missing someone who became home isn't a weakness." Taehyungie sighed, the tension easing just a little. "It's crazy. We were apart for years. I raised the kids without him. And now... hours without him feels too long."
Jiminie rested her head on Taehyungie's shoulder. "That's love, Tae. Not the fairytale kind. The real one. The kind that aches."
Taehyungie let out a small laugh, watery and tired. "Do you think I'm being ridiculous?" Jiminie shook her head. "No. I think you're being brave."
They sat like that for a while — two best friends in the heart of their old world, both forever changed.
From downstairs, the sound of Taehyun's and Taeri's giggles floated upward, light as feathers. Life was moving, and love, even if quiet, still pulsed gently through every breath.
Taehyungie stood and walked to the window. Seoul's sky stretched above — vast and blue and unknown.
She touched the glass.
"Call me, Jungkook..." she whispered to no one.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
HEY!!!!! Its been a while, I'm sorry I ghosted y'all😭 I've been so very busy. My exams started this week and I've been hella stressed. This chap will probably be the last update till I'm done with my exams. I'll be done soon and then I'll spoil yall with more chaptersssssss.╰(*°▽°*)╯
P.S Pray for me, it hasn't been easy.😭😭😭😭 Exams is tough!!!
Chapter 35: Soft Lights
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jeon Enterprises Tower, Seoul – Afternoon
Jungkook's fingers flew across the keyboard as his cybersecurity lead rattled off data breaches and firewall breaches that had thankfully been contained before they reached the company's internal vault. He nodded sharply, issuing final instructions, his jaw tight.
"All right," he muttered. "Double-encrypt all client-side transfers and reroute the sensitive logs to my direct line. No one touches the financial server but me."
"Yes, sir," the lead replied.
As the screen dimmed and the last of the crisis calls ended, Jungkook exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The tension in his shoulders was sharp, but not as sharp as the ache in his chest.
It had been hours.
His eyes drifted to his phone. And then he saw it.
Three missed calls.
My love❤️. The air shifted. His hand froze mid-reach.
Taehyungie had called him. And he hadn't answered. "Shit," he breathed, unlocking the phone and tapping to call back immediately, heartbeat kicking into overdrive.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times—
"Hello?" came her voice, light and airy but... with that tone. That pouty edge he knew like the back of his hand. She didn't even try to hide it.
His heart clenched at the sound of her. "Tae," he breathed. "Baby, I just saw your call—God, I'm sorry, I was caught up with a cybersecurity breach and I didn't—"
"Hmm," she hummed, a dramatic little sigh following. "I thought you'd forgotten about me." "Never." His voice cracked a little. "I swear, Tae. I didn't see it until just now."
“You should’ve come with us.”
“You left before I even got out of the shower.”
“You were taking too long.”
“You could’ve kissed me goodbye.”
“Well, you could’ve answered my calls,” she shot back, tone teasing but laced with sincerity.
Touché.
“I’m coming home soon,” he promised, voice low. “An hour tops. Then you can pout at me in person.”
“I’m not pouting,” she lied.
“You’re definitely pouting.”
“…Maybe a little.”
He smiled at the ceiling, heart warm. “I’ll bring your favorite pastries on the way back.”
“Make it two boxes,” she said with a sigh, leaning into the phone. “You have a lot of making up to do, Jeon.”
“I’ll bring five.”
“And a smoothie.”
“And a kiss?”
“…Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“That depends on how good the smoothie is.”
He chuckled, the tension of the day beginning to fade with the sound of her voice in his ear. He wanted to be there. To see her in person. To lift her chin and kiss that stubborn little pout away.
“Tell the kids I love them,” he whispered. “I will,” she murmured. “They love you too.”
“And you?” A pause. His hand tightened around the phone.
“… See you soon, Jungkook.” Then the line went quiet — but the smile she left on his face lingered long after.
--
The sky had shifted to a muted lavender, golden light bleeding through the trees as the garden at the Kim residence shimmered under the embrace of dusk.
Taehyungie stood by the front steps, her hair pulled loosely over one shoulder, wearing a soft, pale cardigan draped over her elegant dress. The twins, bright-eyed and full of post-dumpling energy, danced around her feet like restless puppies. She bent to fix Taeri’s shoe strap while Taehyun clung to the edge of her coat.
“We really have to go now,” she said with a little laugh, brushing her daughter’s bangs aside.
Jinnie pouted dramatically. “Do you really have to? I was about to bring out my secret stash of strawberry mochi—”
Taehyungie grinned. “Don’t tempt them. We’ll never leave.”
“Next weekend sleepover!” Taeri announced proudly, as if she were making a royal decree.
Namjoon chuckled and leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed. “You’re welcome anytime, little warriors.”
Jiminie crouched down, wrapping both twins in a suffocating hug. “Text me when you get home, okay? And tell your daddy not to forget your bedtime stories tonight.”
Taehyungie nodded, touched by the warmth around her. “Thank you… all of you.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the gate — just in time to hear the low, purr of an engine.
A sleek black car turned into the driveway. The twins froze for a second. Then they squealed in unison.
“Daddy!!!”
The passenger door hadn’t even fully opened before Taeri and Taehyun launched into a sprint, legs wobbling, arms flailing.
Jungkook barely had time to step out before two bodies collided with his legs.
“Whoa—!” he laughed, catching them both at once. “Careful, babies!”
Taehyun buried his face in Jungkook’s stomach, arms wrapped tight. Taeri jumped and Jungkook lifted her with one arm, kissing her cheek. “Missed me that much, huh?”
He looked up — and his gaze immediately locked onto hers. Taehyungie stood near the porch, watching.
She didn’t move to him. But she smiled — soft, graceful, warm. It was a small thing, but for them, now, it was everything.
Jungkook helped the twins into the backseat of the car, adjusting Taehyun’s seatbelt with gentle fingers, making sure Taeri had her plush bunny.
Then he turned back toward the porch. She was waiting there.
Hands tucked into the sleeves of her cardigan, eyes steady. The last golden threads of sunset kissed her cheeks.
“What a lovely surprise,” Taehyungie said quietly, almost like a confession.
His heart stuttered. “I didn’t want you to go home alone,” he replied simply. “Or wait for me.”
Namjoon remained leaning on the porch rail, silent, simply observing with an unreadable expression. But his eyes followed every movement.
Claire stepped forward from inside the door, her coat cinched at the waist like she’d just walked off a runway.
“Well, well,” she drawled, raising a perfectly arched brow. “Look who decides to show up after the tea is cold and the gossip has dried up.”
Jungkook turned toward her. “Claire-”
“Don’t ‘Claire’ me, Jeon,” she cut in, eyes glinting with theatrical fire. “You snuck out of Paris like a thief and now you show up in Seoul without even sending me a damn pigeon? Really?”
Taehyungie covered a laugh behind her hand. Jiminie burst into giggles.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said with a sheepish tilt of his head. “I was… preoccupied.”
Claire clicked her tongue. “Hmph. If you weren’t carrying my godchildren in that car, I’d let you suffer.”
She gave him a slow once-over, then leaned in and kissed Taehyungie’s cheek with a fond sigh. “Drive safe, ma belle. Text me when you get home.”
“I will,” Taehyungie smiled. Then softer: “Thank you… for today.”
They all watched as Jungkook moved around to open the front passenger door. He waited.
Taehyungie hid a blush as she passed him, she gave the faintest nod of gratitude — and her hand brushed the side of his arm like a whisper.
He opened the driver’s side door.
And for a moment, Clai re, Namjoon, Jinnie, and Jiminie just stood there, watching as the little family drove away together — twilight casting long shadows across the pavement, the future still uncertain, but finally, slowly, starting to feel like home.
--
The soft click of the front door closing was followed by the gentle patter of four feet scampering across the entryway.
“We’re hooooome!” Taeri sang as she bolted toward the living room with her plush bunny flapping behind her.
Taehyun was close behind, dragging his tiny backpack across the floor like a determined traveler. “Can we have chicken nuggets and rice? And dumplings! Again!”
Taehyungie laughed as she kicked off her heels near the door and slipped out of her cardigan. “Baby, you just ate an hour ago.”
“I can still eat,” Taehyun insisted, face serious. “I’m a growing boy.” From behind her, Jungkook chuckled. “You’re definitely my kid.”
Taehyungie turned slightly to glance at him as he locked the door, a gentle smile on her lips. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary. She didn’t say anything. But she shook her head fondly.
The kitchen glowed under the warm pendant lights as the soft scent of sesame oil and roasted garlic drifted through the air. Jungkook stood at the stove in his plain white T-shirt, sleeves pushed up, cooking with focused ease while Taehyungie cut up fruit at the counter behind him.
“Daddy’s good at this,” Taeri mumbled around a mouthful of rice, swinging her legs under the dining table.
“He’s better than Uncle Yoonie,” Taehyun declared loyally.
Taehyungie leaned over slightly, brushing her fingers through Taehyun’s hair as she whispered conspiratorially, “Don’t let Yoongi hear you say that.”
Jungkook smirked without turning. “Let him. I’ll finally win something for once.”
The meal was filled with tiny giggles, second helpings, and playful chopstick duels between the twins. At one point, Taehyungie picked a grain of rice off Jungkook’s cheek with her fingers, and he caught her wrist gently, holding her still for a moment. His eyes met hers, full of soft warmth.
She didn’t look away. “I like this,” he said quietly.
She smiled. “Me too.”
The bathroom was a battleground of bubbles, shrieks, and duck-shaped sponges.
“Stop splashing!” Taeri screamed through laughter. “You splashed first!” Taehyun yelled back, soaking wet, a crown of bubbles atop his head.
Taehyungie sighed dramatically. “If I leave you two alone for ten seconds, you flood the house.”
Jungkook leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching with an amused smile as Taehyungie tried to wrangle their soapy children. “You need backup?”
She looked up with a mock glare. “What gave it away?”
“Maybe the shampoo in your eyebrow,” he teased. She blinked, wiped it off with a wet finger, and tossed a sponge at him. He caught it with a grin.
“NO! Not the bubbles in my ear!”
“You started it, Taehyun!”
“Okay, last warning,” Taehyungie said, “If you pour the whole shampoo bottle in there again, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Jungkook teased , moving behind her, brushing back her wet bangs with a fond smile. “Take a bubble bath too?”
She narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “Only if you’re joining.” Jungkook choked on air, coughing into his fist, and Taehyungie grinned, triumphant.
A few minutes later, the two of them worked in perfect tandem — drying off squirming limbs, wrapping each child in fluffy towels, and helping them into pajamas. Taeri insisted on mismatched socks. Taehyun wore his backwards on purpose.
“Chaos,” Taehyungie muttered.
“Our chaos,” Jungkook replied, kissing the top of Taeri’s damp hair. With the twins tucked into bed — sleepy, warm, and clutching their favorite stuffed animals — Taehyungie and Jungkook stepped quietly out of the room and closed the door with a soft click.
They walked down the dim hallway in silence, the world finally quiet.
In the living room, the only light came from the small lamp beside the couch. Taehyungie dropped onto it with a sigh, curling one leg beneath her, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
Jungkook stood in front of her, watching her with something unreadable in his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low. She nodded, eyes still closed. “Just tired. But happy.”
He took a slow step forward.
She opened her eyes just as he knelt down in front of her, resting his chin on her knee. Her hand reached out instinctively and curled into his hair, gently running through the strands.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?” she asked softly. Jungkook shrugged “ You know... To you. To them. To… us.”
Her smile was tender, no matter how many times he says it it doesn't cease to make her know how much he appreciates them so, without hesitation, she leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.
He closed his eyes.
She kissed him again, slower this time, just above his brow.
And then—
Their lips met, gently.
No urgency.
No desperation.
Just two people, surrounded by the hum of home and the scent of warmth and familiarity, finally allowing themselves to feel.
When she pulled back, her hand still in his hair, Jungkook looked up at her like she was his entire world wrapped in moonlight and peace.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her blush. “You’re lucky I’m feeling soft tonight.”
“I’m lucky every night you’re in my arms,” he murmured. She leaned back, tugging him up beside her. “Come sit with me, hopeless romantic.”
He settled beside her, pulling a blanket over both of them as her head rested on his shoulder.
The house was quiet. The kids were sleeping. Every thing was falling into place.
--
The pale light of early morning spilled across the bedroom in quiet streams, filtering through the sheer curtains and laying golden traces along the edges of the bed. Outside, the city was still muted — traffic only a distant hum, birdsong threading faintly through the cool air.
Jungkook had been awake for a while. He lay on his side, propped slightly on one elbow, watching her.
Taehyungie was curled beneath the sheets, one hand resting loosely near her face, her lashes casting delicate shadows over her cheeks. A strand of hair had slipped across her lips in the night, rising and falling with her soft breaths.
She looked… peaceful. Completely untouched by the chaos of the world outside their door.
His gaze lingered, tracing every line of her face with the quiet reverence of someone memorizing their most precious thing.
He remembered mornings from years ago — back when they were teenagers and time felt infinite. He’d wake up to the smell of her shampoo clinging to his hoodie, her sleepy pout when he tried to leave the bed first, the way she’d always curl into him like she belonged there.
And now… she was here again. In their bed. With their children asleep in the next room.
It still didn’t feel real. He reached out slowly, brushing the stray strand of hair away from her mouth. His fingers ghosted along her cheekbone, down to her jaw, tracing the familiar softness he’d missed for so long. He didn’t want to wake her. But he couldn’t stop looking.
Minutes passed like this — the stillness wrapping around them in a cocoon.
Then she shifted. Her brows furrowed slightly, her lips parting as she stirred. She made a small sound in her throat, eyelids fluttering before heavy lashes lifted just enough to reveal drowsy brown eyes.
She blinked at him. Once. Twice. A pout formed almost immediately. “Why… are you staring at me?” she mumbled, her voice husky with sleep.
Jungkook’s lips twitched into a quiet laugh, and he shook his head without answering.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction, though the effect was softened by how adorably tired she looked. She lifted one hand and blindly reached for his face, fingertips brushing his cheek, sliding down in a lazy, almost aimless path.
Her touch landed on his mouth.
She paused. “…Why are they so soft?” she asked, still half-asleep, her thumb brushing his lower lip.
The corners of Jungkook’s lips curled into that unmistakable bunny smile, and he bit back a laugh.
Before he could say anything, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his — a small, sleepy kiss that barely lasted a second but sent heat curling low in his stomach.
He pulled back slightly, gaze softened. “You’re still sleepy,” he murmured. “I don’t care,” she whispered back, eyes already falling shut again as she leaned in.
“Mm… mouth breath,” he teased under his breath. She ignored him completely and kissed him again, this time lingering just a little longer.
Jungkook’s chuckle vibrated against her mouth as he kissed back, his hand cupping her cheek. The kiss grew softer, warmer — the kind that held no rush, no urgency, only the quiet intimacy of being here, together, without walls between them anymore.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and without thinking, he shifted, bracing one hand beside her head as he leaned over, deepening the kiss. She hummed against him, still lazy but slowly waking under the slow heat of his lips.
Their mouths moved in perfect rhythm — unhurried, tasting, breathing each other in. His thumb brushed the corner of her jaw while her other hand slipped into his hair, pulling him just a fraction closer.
It was the kind of kiss that blurred the edges of time, making it impossible to remember when it started or care when it might end. For a while, the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Until—
BANG.
The bedroom door swung open so hard it hit the wall. “Umph—!”
Taehyungie instantly shoved at Jungkook’s chest. He lost his balance completely and tumbled right off the bed, hitting the floor with a graceless thud. “Ow…” he groaned, rubbing his elbow.
Taehyungie quickly sat up, her hair adorably mussed, her cheeks flushed for reasons only she and Jungkook knew. She smiled sweetly at the two small figures in the doorway.
Taeri paused mid-step, frowning at the sight of her father on the floor. “Daddy? Why are you… on the floor?” she asked, head tilting in confusion.
Before Jungkook could answer, Taeri padded over and plopped down on top of him, curling up against his chest like a warm, pouty kitten.
Meanwhile, Taehyun had already climbed onto the bed, worming his way into Taehyungie’s arms. “Mama,” he whispered with all the seriousness of an urgent announcement, “I want pancakes. With strawberry syrup. Right now.”
Jungkook groaned from the floor. “Do I at least get a good morning first?”
“No,” Taehyun said firmly without looking at him.
Taehyungie’s laughter filled the room — warm, unguarded, and the perfect sound to start the day.
--
The office was silent except for the low hum of computers. Jungkook sat at the head of the long glass table in the private operations room, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His knuckles were white around the edge of his phone.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched. His company had been under siege before, but this was different. This was personal — he could feel it in the deliberate way the attacks came, not to destroy in one blow, but to test, to probe, to unsettle him piece by piece.
Across the room, rows of monitors flickered with scrolling code, his cybersecurity team working tirelessly. Hoseok stood among them, headset around his neck, eyes sharp with fatigue.
Hours bled into each other. Jungkook didn’t move — just watched, every failed trace hammering against his temples like a warning. His thoughts drifted to Taehyungie, to her soft eyes at breakfast, the brush of her fingers against his knuckles. She had seen his frustration, though she hadn’t asked. He was grateful. But part of him wondered how long he could keep her safe if this shadow refused to leave them alone.
“Sir!” One of the analysts suddenly stood straighter, her voice cutting through the room. “We’ve got something. A trail — it’s faint, but it’s consistent.”
Jungkook’s eyes snapped to the screen. His pulse quickened as lines of code resolved into coordinates.
Another analyst confirmed, “The signal is bouncing heavily, but it keeps rerouting back to the same hub. Underground servers — Seoul district perimeter.”
The air shifted. Hoseok’s lips curled into a grim line as he leaned over the map lighting up on the central monitor. “So the ghost finally slipped.”
Jungkook rose from his chair slowly, his height casting a long shadow across the room. His voice was low, controlled, but the fire beneath it was unmistakable.
“Good. Then find me every tunnel, every exit, every rat hole in that sector. If they want to play in the dark…” His jaw flexed. “We’ll drag them into the light.”
The room buzzed with renewed urgency, the hum of keys striking faster.
But deep in Jungkook’s chest, beneath the sharp edge of victory, a darker thought lingered — whoever this was, they hadn’t come for the company alone.
--
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of polished heels echoed sharply against damp concrete, each step deliberate, unhurried, resonating through the long corridor like the ticking of a clock counting down.
The underground air was heavy, metallic, suffocating, carrying the faint stench of rust and old blood. Dim fluorescent lights flickered along the ceiling, their sickly glow pooling into shadows that stretched like skeletal fingers across the walls. Pipes hissed above, leaking faint trails of steam, as if the whole place was breathing in rhythm with the intruder.
The figure moved forward, unbothered by the cold or the silence. The click of her heels was the only sound until a distant drip of water joined in, steady and monotonous.
Somewhere ahead, a single bulb swayed lazily, illuminating a rusted door scarred with scratches and stains.
They stopped.
A hand clad in black leather reached for the handle. Fingers brushed the cold steel with the casual intimacy of someone who had opened doors like this far too many times.
Click.
The door groaned open.
Inside, the space was dimly lit by a single lamp bolted to the ceiling, its weak light casting long, jagged shadows across the room. Chains dangled from hooks embedded in the concrete walls. A table stood in the center — not a dining table, not a desk. A table for work. Tools were neatly arranged atop it: blades that caught the light in thin slivers, metal rods, a coil of wire. Clean. Waiting.
In the far corner, the single hanging bulb flickered, casting shadows that danced against steel filing cabinets and scattered crates. A desk stood beneath the light, covered in neatly spread photographs.
The figure approached, gloves brushing over the glossy prints. Faces stared back from the table — frozen smiles, candid captures, unsuspecting moments stolen through a lens.
The gloved hand lingered over one photo longer than the rest. A low chuckle slipped past unseen lips, curling through the silence like smoke. The sound wasn't loud, but it was enough to make the hairs on one's neck rise — the laugh of someone who found amusement in possession, in control.
The photographs were shuffled into order, some stacked neatly to one side, others pushed forward, selected. A pattern emerged: targets. Not random. Deliberate. Connected.
The figure leaned back in the chair, heels crossing at the ankle, gaze fixed on the photo still pinned beneath one gloved finger.
A whisper broke the silence, so soft it was almost lost beneath the hum of the flickering bulb.
"Soon." They smiled. Slow. Venomous.
The weight of something inevitable.
---
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
HI Guyss! I'm done with my exams. Yayy! Initially, I wanted to surprise y'all with an update yesterday, but the chapter was automatically deleted. I was so hurt because it was a good one. But no worries. I managed to come up with this. It's a short chap, bear with me. I'm currently working on more for you. Love y'all!
Tell me what you think!
Chapter 36: Darkness of Doom
Chapter Text
The twins’ laughter echoed faintly through the large living room, little footsteps pattering across the polished floors. Their toys were scattered in a cheerful mess, and Taehyungie had made sure to tuck away anything sharp or fragile before she left them to their games. Satisfied they were safe, she retreated to the master bedroom with a cleaning cloth draped over her arm, determined to tidy up the place.
The room was spacious, filled with soft light spilling through the tall curtains that brushed against the floor. Taehyungie moved in quiet rhythm, her slender hands pulling the curtains aside to shake off dust, smoothing the creases from the bedding, straightening the decorative pillows on their large shared bed. She moved next to the wardrobe, dusting the polished handles and reorganizing the slightly rumpled row of shirts Jungkook had left behind after rushing to work. A faint smile curved her lips.
“He’s hopeless,” she murmured softly, shaking her head as she folded a tie neatly and placed it back. She passed into the in-built bathroom, wiping the vanity and arranging Jungkook’s cologne bottles in a neat line. The mirror caught her reflection — a little flushed from the work, a strand of hair falling loose near her cheek. She tucked it back absently and sighed, her heart soft in ways she couldn’t fully admit, not even to herself.
Finally, she knelt by the cabinets beside the bed, squatting low as she tugged open the drawer. A jumble of files, papers, and envelopes spilled out in an unruly stack. Taehyungie let out a small sigh, her brows furrowing in affectionate exasperation.
“He never changed,” she muttered under her breath. Her tongue peeked out slightly in concentration as she gathered the files, stacking them carefully. One by one, she arranged them in alphabetical order, precise and methodical, slipping them back into the cabinet in neat lines. She nodded at her work, satisfied, until a single file — slightly thinner, slightly older — slipped from the bundle and landed flat against the floor.
Frowning, Taehyungie reached for it. She hesitated, her hands pausing mid-air. It wasn’t her business. She knew better than to dig into Jungkook’s private things…
But something tugged at her. Something quiet and unshakable. Her fingers curled around the file, and with a careful breath, she opened it.
Her world tilted.
The first thing she saw was a faded ultrasound. The grainy black-and-white image was barely visible, its edges crinkled from years of being folded, touched, and kept. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled as she lifted it, staring until her vision blurred.
It was the same ultrasound she had left him with, the day she told him she was pregnant. Her lips parted, and a choked whisper escaped before she could stop it. “He… he kept it.” Her eyes filled, her throat tightening as tears welled and spilled over. With shaking fingers, she set the ultrasound down gently, almost reverently, and pulled out the next photograph tucked inside.
Her heart stuttered. It was her.
Much younger — maybe eleven, maybe twelve. Her eyes were wide, her smile so bright it lit up the worn edges of the photo. She remembered that day, though the details were hazy. Jungkook had held the camera, grinning mischievously as he tried to coax her out of her stubborn shyness. And she remembered the words he’d whispered right before snapping the picture: “You don’t need to smile, baby. Just look into my eyes. That’s all I need.”
A laugh bubbled from her lips, broken and wet, as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Oh, Jungkookie…” she whispered, her heart aching with the memory. They had been so young, so silly — children tangled in feelings too big for them to understand.
She swiped at her tears quickly, setting the photo aside with trembling care. Her hand reached back into the file, pulling out two small, worn objects. A tiny toy car. A bunny plushie.
Her brow furrowed in confusion at first — until her breath hitched, realization dawning with a painful sweetness. “Oh…”
Her fingers curled tighter around the plushie as memory rushed in. She remembered scolding the twins months ago, when they begged for another toy. Taeri had pouted, lips wobbling as she said she lost her favorite bunny at the mall. Taehyun had chimed in about the car, his little voice guilty.
Taehyungie’s lips trembled. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to stop the sob clawing its way out. He’d found them. He’d kept them.
She pressed the plushie to her chest for a brief second before carefully placing it back inside. One by one, she returned the treasures — the ultrasound, the photograph, the toys — back into the file. Her hands lingered a moment longer, fingers brushing the cover, before she slid it into the cabinet and closed the drawer.
She sat there for a long moment, kneeling in silence, her hand over her mouth. Tears slid down her cheeks, silent but unstoppable. He had never let go.
The glow of the monitor painted Jungkook’s face in cold blue light. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, endless reports streaming in from the cybersecurity team. Each breach was mapped with ruthless precision, pinpointing the swift, almost ghostlike entries of whoever had infiltrated their system. Jungkook’s jaw flexed as he leaned closer, scanning the latest update. Whoever this was, they weren’t amateurs. They slipped in and out without leaving a trace, and yet—every so often—their presence lingered, like a shadow that refused to be banished.
The shrill ring of his phone sliced through the silence. Jungkook’s brows furrowed. Without glancing away from the screen, he reached for it and pressed it to his ear.
“Hello,” he muttered, his tone low and distracted.
There was a pause. Then, a voice. “…Hello.”
Jungkook froze. The voice was hesitant, soft. Softer than he ever remembered. Not the commanding, booming tone that had raised him, pushed him, demanded from him. This was… almost fragile. “Father,” Jungkook said, a quiet hum escaping his throat, his eyes narrowing in guarded calm.
“How are you, son?” Chairman Jeon asked after a beat. “How… is the company?” Jungkook leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “We’re holding. The breach wasn’t superficial. They came in sharp, fast. But the team’s mapped the areas where they entered. We’re narrowing it down.”
“And… have you found them yet?”
“Not yet,” Jungkook admitted, tone clipped but steady. “But I will. They’re too clean, too careful. That only means they’re hiding something worth protecting. It won’t last long.” Silence. His father stayed quiet on the other end of the line, not interrupting, not barking orders as he once would have. He listened. The weight of his attention was heavy, but it wasn’t the crushing kind Jungkook had grown up under.
Finally, the elder Jeon released a long, weary breath. “These people… are up to something.”
Jungkook’s lips curled into a grim line. “I know.”
There was another pause. This time longer. It stretched, thick and almost uncomfortable—until his father’s voice returned, softer still. “…And Taehyungie? The twins?” Jungkook blinked, caught off guard. His gaze dropped to the files scattered across his desk. The corner of his mouth tugged upward, faint but real. “They’re fine,” he said quietly, the warmth in his tone betraying him.
On the other end, his father was silent again. Jungkook could almost imagine him sitting rigid in his study, hands folded, wrestling with words that didn’t come easily. Then, at last— “Can I…” The chairman hesitated. “Can we meet them? For a day? I want to see my grandchildren. And Taehyungie.”
Jungkook sat back, lips parting in surprise. His father had never asked before. Not like this. And then, in the faint distance of the line, he caught his mother’s voice, muffled but distinct, calling out warmly, almost playfully: “My daughter-in-law.”
The men chuckled, the sound breaking the tension like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. “I’ll find time during the week,” Jungkook said at last, his voice gentler now. “If Taehyungie agrees.”
“Thank you, son.” His father’s voice was firm again, but not cold. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them.” The line clicked dead.
Jungkook lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen. The corner of his lips lifted into a smile that reached his eyes.
--
The penthouse smelled faintly of garlic and sesame, warmth curling in the air as Taehyungie set bowls of rice and side dishes onto the dining table. The twins had just woken from their nap, hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep. “Lunch time, my loves,” she said softly, ushering them into their chairs.
Taehyun gave his usual little frown as he picked up his spoon—his lips pressed together in concentration even though the food disappeared quickly, bite after bite. Taeri swung her legs under the table, humming as she ate, sneaking glances at her brother as if competing to finish faster.
Taehyungie sat with them, eating between helping them scoop up rice, wiping stray sauce from Taeri’s chin, or holding out water for Taehyun, who never liked asking. They could manage on their own now, but she still couldn’t resist tending to them.
Her phone buzzed where it lay beside her plate. She picked it up, expecting work updates from Paris. Instead, her screen lit up with a familiar name. 'Jungkook.'
“I’m missing you 😩”
Her lips curled before she could stop them. A snort left her as she muttered under her breath, “Simp.” Still, her stomach fluttered, and warmth spread across her chest. She sent him a quick kiss sticker, shaking her head with a smile before setting her phone aside. “Here, baby,” she said, lifting Taehyun’s cup to his lips. He sipped without looking at her, too focused on shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. The phone buzzed again. Taehyungie reached for it automatically, already bracing herself for another dramatic message from the lover boy.
But when she unlocked it, the sender’s name wasn’t Jungkook. Unknown Number. Her brow furrowed, the smile fading. She tapped it open.
'Enjoy it while it lasts.'
The words were stark against the screen. Cold. Wrong. The chopsticks slipped from her hand and clattered onto her plate. Both children paused, startled by the sound. “Mama?” Taeri’s small voice piped up, her head tilting as she studied her mother’s frozen expression.
Taehyungie’s fingers tightened around the phone. Her pulse quickened. She typed fast, her thumb hitting the keys too hard.
'Who are you?!'
The message showed Seen. Instantly. No reply. She tried again, her breath shaky. 'Is this some kind of joke?'
Again—Seen.
Her chest constricted. A drumbeat of panic hammered against her ribs, but she forced herself to swallow it down. The twins were watching her, little eyes wide and searching. She drew in a steadying breath, placed the phone face down on the table, and plastered on a warm smile.
“Babies, eat up,” she said softly, brushing her fingers through their messy hair. “Finish your food, hmm? Mama’s right here.” They returned to their meal, slowly, still casting glances at her. Taehyungie smoothed Taeri’s fringe and kissed the top of Taehyun’s head, but her heart was thundering.
And all the while, her phone lay silent beside her plate—its screen dark, hiding the unseen eyes that had already found her.
--
The sky outside was painted in shades of bruised gold and purple, the kind of dusk that settled quietly over the city. But for Taehyungie, the colors did nothing to soothe her. Her chest remained tight, her thoughts circling endlessly around that one message.
The twins sat cross-legged on the carpet, their eyes fixed on the educational movie playing on the large TV, giggling when the animated characters sang. Their little voices echoed lightly through the penthouse, but Taehyungie barely registered it. Her hands were clasped in her lap, fingers knotting restlessly.
The sound of the door clicking open drew squeals from the children. “Daddy!”
Their small feet pattered across the floor, colliding into Jungkook’s legs before he had even set his briefcase down. Exhaustion lined his face, but his smile was brilliant and proud as he crouched down to catch them both, kissing the tops of their heads.
“Were you good to your mama today?” he asked, voice warm. Taehyun, chest puffed out in pride, nodded eagerly. “We didn’t even make a sound!”
Jungkook chuckled, the deep sound echoing in the hall. “My strong boy.”
But when he glanced over their little heads, his eyes landed on her. The one person who always stole the air from his lungs. His smile faltered. Taehyungie wasn’t even looking at him—her gaze was distant, her face pale, her body stiff like she was elsewhere entirely.
“Tae?” He dropped his briefcase instantly, straightening. His brow furrowed as he took a step closer.
Taeri’s little hand tugged on his coat, drawing his attention downward. Her voice was small, worried. “Mama has been like that since lunch, Daddy. She says it’s nothing.” Jungkook’s frown deepened, his chest tightening. “Did you upset her, princess?”
Taeri shook her head furiously, curls bouncing. “No, Daddy! I was good today. I ate all my vegetables. But… Mama saw something on her phone and her smile went away.”
The shadows under Jungkook’s eyes sharpened. Something cold slid down his spine. He exhaled slowly, then softened his voice. “Take your brother to your room, hmm? Play some games together. You can use my phone.” Taeri squealed in delight, already dragging Taehyun with her, both of them bickering playfully about which game to choose. Their laughter trailed down the hallway, leaving the living room quiet again.
Jungkook crossed the space to her in three long strides. He crouched before her, the tension in his shoulders barely restrained as he cupped her cheek gently. “Didn’t even realize I was home,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her skin. His attempt at teasing was soft, meant to ease her. “And here I thought I deserved at least a peck.”
Taehyungie blinked, as if pulled from deep waters. Her eyes widened at him, face shifting into startled recognition. “Koo…? Sorry. I didn’t know you’d be back early.” He hummed, though the sound was low and sharp with suspicion. He pulled his hand away only to sit beside her, sliding his arm around her waist and lifting her effortlessly into his lap.
“So,” he said, voice softer now, protective. His lips brushed her temple. “What’s got my queen thinking so much? Can’t have you troubling that pretty brain.” She managed a small laugh, rolling her eyes to hide the way her chest squeezed. But her hands betrayed her—trembling as she reached for the phone on the nearby table. Wordlessly, she unlocked it, tapped into her messages, and turned the screen toward him.
Her breath caught. Her voice was barely a whisper, shaky as her eyes glossed. “This… this is what I saw.” On the screen, the single message glared back: Enjoy it while it lasts. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed the moment they landed on the words glowing across her screen. For a second, silence stretched taut, the tension in the room so sharp it could cut. His jaw clenched so tightly a vein ticked at his temple, and his grip on her waist firmed instinctively, pulling her closer into his chest as though shielding her from something unseen.
“Taehyungie…” His voice was low, steady, but there was fire burning underneath. “When did this come?” “Lunch,” she whispered. “Just after you texted me.” Her lashes fluttered, betraying the fear she was trying to swallow. “I—I thought maybe it was a mistake, or a prank. But… it felt wrong. It feels wrong.”
Jungkook’s eyes never left the screen. Every muscle in his body went taut, fury rising like a tide he couldn’t hold back. He quickly pressed a button, forwarding the message to himself before locking the phone and setting it on the table.
“Not a prank,” he said coldly, his voice like steel. “Whoever sent this knows what they’re doing. They’re trying to scare you. And they will regret it.”
Taehyungie’s lips parted, her voice trembling. “Koo…”
He turned to her then, and his features softened immediately, the storm shifting into something gentler as his hand came up to cradle her face. “No one—do you hear me?—no one touches you, Taehyungie. No one touches the kids. I won’t let them. Not now, not when I just got you back, not ever.” His thumb brushed away a tear she didn’t realize had fallen.
Her throat tightened at the conviction in his voice. For all the times she had hated him, resented him, pushed him away, there was no denying the raw, unshakable protectiveness blazing in his eyes now. Jungkook kissed her temple, then her cheek, almost desperately, as if grounding himself. “I’ll have this traced tonight. They won’t get away with threatening my family.” The way he said it—my family—made her chest ache.
Taehyungie nodded faintly, though her hands were still trembling. She leaned into him, finding herself unable to move away even if she wanted to. His warmth wrapped around her, and despite the fear gnawing at her, she felt the tiniest thread of safety slip through the cracks.
Jungkook held her tighter, his lips pressing into her hair. His words were almost a growl, laced with both promise and fury: “They’ll regret ever thinking they could touch what’s mine.”
His hand lingered on her cheek for just a breath longer before he pulled away, his face hardening into that expression Taehyungie had seen in news articles and boardrooms — the cold, commanding CEO mask. Except this time, it wasn’t for power. It was for her.
Without another word, he pulled his phone from his coat pocket, carefully pulled her aside, and stood. His tone was clipped, sharp when the call connected. “Patch me through to the cybersecurity team. Now.”
Taehyungie watched him pace, her hands twisting in her lap. She could hear his voice, low but firm, each word dripping with authority that sent chills through her.
“I need a trace on a message received on Kim Taehyungie’s number. Timestamped early afternoon. Full sweep. I don’t care how well they’ve hidden it — I want results tonight.” He paused, his jaw working. “Use every backdoor, every contact, burn every ounce of energy if you have to. I don’t want speculation, I want the location. Understood?”
A muffled answer came through, and Jungkook’s nostrils flared. “Good. Update me every hour. And keep this quiet. If this leaks, you’ll be out before morning.” He hung up without waiting for more. When he turned back to her, his gaze softened again, but the fury still burned beneath his skin. “They’ll find whoever did this. Fast.”
Taehyungie swallowed hard. “And if they can’t?” “They will,” he said, so absolute it left no room for doubt. He crouched in front of her now, resting his large hands over her trembling ones. “You don’t need to be scared. You have me. You have us. Nothing touches you without going through me first.”
Her lips parted, but words wouldn’t come. So instead she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his, her breath shaky. Jungkook closed his eyes, his arms winding around her in a tight, unyielding hold.
For a moment, it was only the two of them — the storm outside pressing at the walls, and Jungkook standing as her shield against it all.
--
The penthouse was silent, blanketed in the kind of heavy quiet that made every small sound echo. Beyond the glass walls, Seoul glittered in the dark, indifferent to the war raging inside Jungkook’s chest.
He sat hunched forward on the leather couch, elbows braced against his knees, the blue glow of his laptop casting hard shadows over his face. The report blinked on the screen — partial trace confirmed. The intruder had bounced through multiple encrypted servers, masking their origin. But one tiny lead glared back at him: Busan, a network hub. Nothing more.
He slammed the laptop shut, the sound too loud in the empty room. His hands dragged down his face, nails digging into his skin as a guttural noise broke from his throat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear into someone, anyone. “Who the fucking hell are you?” he hissed into the silence, his chest rising and falling violently. “What do you want from me? From my family?”
His fists clenched, knuckles cracking under the strain. He pressed them into his thighs, trying to ground himself, but it only made the rage boil hotter. His mind kept replaying the message — Enjoy it while it lasts. The audacity of someone targeting her, daring to reach into their lives.
He shot to his feet, pacing the living room, the city lights flashing against his restless figure. His jaw was so tight it ached. A thousand thoughts crashed over each other: the twins’ laughter, Taehyungie’s trembling hands. He couldn’t lose them. Not again.
Jungkook’s breath shuddered. He pressed his palms flat against the cool glass of the window, forehead resting against it, staring down at the endless city below. His reflection looked back at him — tired eyes, clenched jaw, a man on the edge.
“I’ll find you,” he whispered, venom dripping from every syllable. His voice cracked, almost breaking into a sob. “And when I do, I’ll destroy you.”
The clock ticked past midnight. In the master's room, Taehyungie shifted, her faint sigh carrying through the quiet. He closed his eyes, letting her presence tether him back, just enough to keep the rage from consuming him whole. But inside, the storm was only getting louder.
The crack of his fist against the wall thundered through the penthouse. Plaster dust rained down, pain shooting up his knuckles, but he barely felt it. His chest heaved, rage and helplessness colliding in his veins until he could hardly breathe.
“…Koo?” Her voice. Small. Sleep-laced. Terrified.
Jungkook froze. He turned, wide-eyed, and there she was — standing at the edge of the dim living room, drowning in one of his shirts, her hair tousled from sleep, her eyes glossy under the faint glow of the city lights. Shame gutted him. He rushed to her immediately, cupping her face with trembling hands, desperate. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to wake you, I shouldn’t—”
Taehyungie’s brows furrowed. She shook her head softly, her hands sliding down his arms, steadying him. “It’s late, Koo. Come to bed.”
He exhaled, torn between wanting to obey and the fire still clawing inside him. He pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring hoarsely, “I will. Just give me a little longer. I need to—”
“No.”
Her tone left no room for protest. Jungkook huffed out a laugh through his nose, bitter and soft, because he knew it — his Taehyungie was stubborn, and once she set her mind, even he couldn’t fight her.
She tugged at his hand, small but insistent, dragging him back toward their bedroom. He followed, helplessly smitten by her pout, by the faint wrinkle in her nose, by the way she still held him even when she didn’t understand the war inside his chest.
The bedroom was bathed in the faint amber of the bedside lamp. She pushed him gently toward the bed, and Jungkook let himself fall back with a sigh, his body aching with exhaustion and anger.
Then, like a magnet, she curled immediately into his side. No hesitation. No questions. Just warmth and trust. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her in tight, shielding her with his body as though the walls could collapse around them at any moment. His throat burned.
“You’ll protect us, Jungkook,” she murmured, voice heavy with sleep, her breath warm against his chest. “You always do.”
Her words speared through his heart. His lips pressed into her hair, his eyes closing as she drifted, trusting him completely. And Jungkook lay awake, holding her, silently swearing to himself that no matter what it took, he would.
--
The room was swallowed in shadows, lit only by the flicker of a single bulb swaying above. Photos dangled from thin wires, their edges curling, faces caught mid-expression — unaware they were being watched.
In the center, the figure sat in a black swivel chair, posture relaxed but radiating dominance. Long fingers tapped against the table, a steady, sharp rhythm that echoed through the still air. The faint light caught the edge of their face — enough to reveal a scar, ugly and jagged, slicing across skin like a memory that refused to heal.
The door creaked open. Another man stepped in, shoulders squared, movements precise. His silence spoke of discipline — and fear.
“We were nearly caught today,” the figure said, voice smooth but edged with fury. The tapping stopped. The scar shifted as their jaw clenched. “Our plan would’ve been a disaster. Make sure the security is always tight. Always.” The man bowed his head once, a silent promise, before slipping out of the room as quietly as he had entered.
When the door clicked shut, the figure leaned back, reaching for a phone. Old. Outdated. Suspiciously untraceable. Its screen glowed faintly in the dark, casting a sickly light across their face. A low laugh spilled from their lips, slow and growing louder, filling the room until it rang against the walls.
“Everything…” the figure whispered to the empty air, voice curling with satisfaction. “Everything is falling just the way I like it.”
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 37: Shadows of the dark.
Chapter Text
Three days passed in a blur — days that felt like a single, long stretch of unease.
Jungkook spent nearly every waking hour at the office, bent over files, surveillance logs, and reports. His eyes burned from sleepless nights, the frustration in his chest a knot that only tightened with each dead end. Whoever was orchestrating this was careful — too careful — and it was beginning to gnaw at him.
Taehyungie, meanwhile, tried to pretend life was normal inside the penthouse walls. She played with the twins, cooked meals, cleaned, and laughed when they did something silly. But deep down, she hadn’t forgotten. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart stilled for a second, expecting another cruel message. Yet nothing came. The silence was almost worse than the words themselves.
The penthouse itself transformed. Guards stood at the entrance and at every exit, their eyes constantly sweeping. Even the staff walked with rigid shoulders, aware of the sudden weight in the air. Security cameras doubled overnight, blinking red lights in every corner, a silent reminder that someone, somewhere, was always watching.
And at the company, the atmosphere shifted. Jungkook’s orders were strict and unforgiving — flaunt even the smallest rule, and you were out. The employees who once chatted in corridors now moved briskly, heads down, work polished and proper. No one dared slack.
The air was tight, almost suffocating, as though both the penthouse and the company were bracing themselves for something no one could yet name.
Inside, the office was dim except for the glow of the desktop screens. Jungkook’s eyes were sharp, locked on lines of code and digital trails that Hoseok scrolled through beside him. The room smelled faintly of coffee and fatigue, papers stacked in messy piles around them.
The sudden vibration of his phone broke through the silence. Glancing down, Jungkook’s expression softened instantly. “Baby?” he answered, his tone slipping into warmth he reserved only for her.
On the other end, Taehyungie’s voice flowed, soft yet steady. “Koo, I just wanted to let you know—I’m going out with the girls. Jinnie’s wedding fitting is today. I’ll drop the twins off with Namjoon while we go.”
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. His first instinct was to stop her, to tell her not to take even a single step outside without protection. The city felt hostile, crawling with shadows he couldn’t yet identify.
He parted his lips to say it, but Taehyungie, as though reading his thoughts, cut in. “I’ll be fine, Koo. I’ll be with Jiminie and Jinnie. Nothing will happen.” Jungkook’s jaw tightened, the war between reason and fear raging silently in his chest. His voice came low, hesitant. “Tae…” He wanted to argue. To forbid her. But the plea in her tone, the assurance in her words, made him falter.
With great hesitation, he exhaled. “Alright. But please—be careful. For me.” His voice dipped, tender. “I love you.” There was a pause on the line, then her soft chuckle brushed against his ear. “I will, Koo. Be careful, too.”
The call ended, leaving him staring at his screen, the empty hum of the office loud in his ears. His thumb lingered on his phone as if he could still hold onto her voice. But the gnawing unease in his gut didn’t leave. He set the phone down on the desk with more force than intended, the thud drawing Hoseok’s attention.
“You okay?” Hoseok asked carefully, leaning back in his chair.
Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He dragged a hand over his face, then through his hair. “She’s going out.” His voice was quiet, clipped. “With Jiminie and Jinnie. Leaving the kids with Namjoon.” Hoseok frowned, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. “That’s not… unsafe. They’ll be with people we trust.”
“That’s not the point.” Jungkook’s tone sharpened, frustration bleeding through. “I don’t trust the world. Not with this phantom bastard still circling us.” He gestured sharply at the monitors, their screens filled with encrypted trails. “Every second we don’t know who they are, they could be getting closer.”
Silence stretched, broken only by the hum of the computers. Hoseok’s eyes flickered over his friend’s clenched fists, the storm brewing in his expression. “You’re not just worried as a CEO,” Hoseok muttered after a beat. “You’re worried as her man.”
Jungkook’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t deny it. His chest burned with the helplessness he hated most—knowing Taehyungie was out there, vulnerable, while he sat locked in an office.
He stood abruptly, pacing the length of the office. His voice was low, dangerous. “I need answers, Hobi. I don’t care if we have to pull every wire out of the city’s system. Whoever’s behind this…” He slammed his palm down on the desk, making the monitors rattle. “…they’re playing with my family. And I’ll end them before I let them touch her.”
Hoseok watched him silently, the shadows under Jungkook’s eyes darker than the night outside. For the first time in days, Hoseok felt the chill of what they were really up against—something more cunning, more patient, than either of them had imagined.
And something told him Jungkook’s instincts weren’t wrong.
--
The mall shimmered in soft golden light, the kind that made its marble floors gleam like liquid ivory. Chandeliers draped high above, their crystals catching the glow as if scattering a thousand tiny stars. The boutique wing was alive with luxury—windows dressed with mannequins wearing gowns worth fortunes, silken fabrics, and jeweled embellishments glinting under pristine lighting. It was the kind of place where time seemed slower, where money was the air breathed, and every passerby carried themselves with the quiet arrogance of privilege.
The girls made their entrance together, drawing looks without even trying. Jinnie was radiant in a pale peach sundress that hugged her figure modestly, her hair styled with delicate waves that brushed against her shoulders. Jiminie sparkled in her typical flair—a fitted white blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers, her heels clicking against the marble floor with a confidence that could silence a room. Taehyungie, in her effortless elegance, wore a simple cream midi dress paired with a silk scarf around her neck, her beauty so refined that heads turned naturally as they passed.
Their laughter filled the air like music. They teased and nudged Jinnie relentlessly as they walked, every word dripping with affection. “Look at you, our blushing bride-to-be,” Jiminie sang, her grin mischievous.
Taehyungie’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Don’t think you’ll get off easy just because you’re marrying my brother. I’ll make you work extra hard. Wife privileges don’t exist with me.” The three of them burst into giggles, their voices drawing curious smiles from a passing couple.
They entered the luxurious wedding gown shop, where every corner screamed extravagance. Rows upon rows of delicate fabrics lined the walls—lace that looked spun from clouds, satin that gleamed like water under moonlight, beads sewn so intricately they looked like constellations trapped in cloth. A man in a tailored suit greeted them with a polite bow, his tone honey-smooth as he guided them into a private suite meant for VIP clients.
The suite itself was breathtaking—mirrored walls framed by velvet curtains, chandeliers smaller but just as opulent as those outside, and a table already set with fine china. A lady in an elegant black uniform wheeled in racks of gowns, each dress a masterpiece of its own. Soon after, a waiter entered, offering each of them porcelain cups of fragrant tea.
The three women leaned over the racks, gushing as they skimmed through the designs. “This one looks like it was made for you,” Jiminie said, holding up a gown with intricate pearl detailing. “Oh, please,” Jinnie scoffed, though her smile was wide. “Whatever dress I wear, you two are doomed anyway. My bridesmaids will always wear shame next to me.”
The three of them broke into laughter again, nearly spilling their tea. The teasing went back and forth, their voices lighthearted and carefree.
But in the corner of the boutique, unseen by their laughter, someone lingered. A figure stood half-hidden behind a rack of suits, their posture too still, too deliberate. A plain mask concealed their face, the kind street vendors sold, blending them into anonymity. They pretended to skim through men’s jackets, but their hand was clenched around a small recorder, its tiny red light blinking faintly. Every word the women spoke was captured. Every laugh. Every careless joke.
The figure tilted their head slightly, adjusting the recorder closer, the mask shadowing any glimpse of expression. Unaware, the girls continued, their giggles echoing against mirrored walls. Until Taehyungie, mid-rant about floral arrangements, suddenly stilled.
“I need to pee,” she muttered with a grin, excusing herself. The suite door closed softly behind her as she stepped into the hallway. But as she turned a corner, fate collided.
Literally.
She bumped into someone—hard. The force jolted through her, and something clattered onto the polished floor between them. Her breath caught. A small device, black and ordinary, but far too familiar to be casual.
A recorder.
Her eyes widened as her heart lurched violently in her chest. “Oh—sorry!” she gasped automatically, her instinctive politeness slipping through. The figure kept their head bowed low, nodding too quickly, too often. Their gloved hand shot down to grab the recorder, but Taehyungie’s instincts moved faster.
Her hand clamped around their wrist, fingers tightening like steel. She frowned, her voice low but steady despite the storm building in her throat. “What is that?” The figure tried to yank free, their head ducking even lower, but Taehyungie didn’t budge. Her grip only tightened, her pulse hammering against her temples.
Her voice rose, slicing through the quiet hallway. “I asked—what is that?” The sharpness in her tone carried, loud enough that doors opened. Jinnie and Jiminie rushed out, their heels clattering against marble, eyes darting between Taehyungie and the masked stranger. Even staff members peeked curiously from their stations.
“What’s happening?” Jiminie snapped, stepping forward, her protective stance sharp and immediate. The masked figure fumbled, clearly cornered. But before the tension could snap, a woman came running down the hall, her voice high-pitched with apology. “I’m so sorry!” she cried, bowing frantically. “He’s my brother. He… he does this sometimes. He records random sounds—voices, clatters, anything. It’s… it’s a habit, I swear!”
The explanation spilled out like rehearsed lines. Taehyungie’s frown faltered, the certainty in her chest loosening into confusion. Her grip on the man’s wrist wavered. She searched the woman’s eyes, looking for cracks in the story, but found only desperate insistence.
Finally, reluctantly, Taehyungie let go. The stranger scrambled away instantly, the woman tugging him along, both disappearing into the maze of luxury shops without looking back.
Jiminie’s arm curled protectively around Taehyungie’s shoulder. “That was shady as hell,” she muttered. Taehyungie nodded faintly, her confusion still gnawing at her chest. Something about the way he bowed his head, the way he refused to meet her eyes… it didn’t sit right.
But for now, all she could do was watch as their figures vanished into the glittering crowd.
--
The figures didn’t stop until they reached a quieter wing of the mall, where the polished marble turned dimmer and the bustling noise of luxury shoppers faded into near silence. The air here was different—stale, hushed, tucked away from the glittering boutiques above.
The masked man halted beneath a shadowed corner near an unmarked service door. His gloved hand reached inside his coat and pulled out a thick bundle of cash, secured with a tight band. Without hesitation, he shoved it into the woman’s waiting hands.
Her expression shifted instantly. The frantic apology she had worn moments ago melted into a sly grin as she thumbed through the notes, her eyes gleaming at the sight of so much money. She tucked it into her pocket with practiced ease, her lips curling mischievously.
“You really think I’d let my boyfriend get caught?” she said with a pout, though her tone was more playful than concerned. “Not when you pay me this well.”
The man’s smirk, though hidden behind the plain mask, was almost tangible in the way his shoulders lifted in amusement. A low, chilling laugh rumbled from his throat—harsh, mocking, and entirely out of place in the sterile mall corridor. It was the kind of sound that didn’t belong to someone human, but to a predator.
The woman shifted nervously despite her grin, glancing over her shoulder at the passing shadows. But before she could say more, the man’s head tilted sharply left, then right, scanning the hall with calculating precision. His movements were swift, methodical, almost military.
Then, without a single backward glance, he vanished into the dim passageways, his footsteps echoing hollowly until there was nothing left but silence. The woman lingered only a moment, her grin faltering into unease. Then she, too, turned on her heel and disappeared into the maze of the mall, the bundle of money heavy in her pocket.
--
The boutique glow was left behind as the girls strutted out, their arms loaded with glossy shopping bags bearing gold-lettered logos of luxury brands. The Porsche waiting at the VIP parking lot gleamed beneath the lights, its tinted windows reflecting the soft dusk. They slid inside, their chatter bubbling like champagne.
“Jinnie, you’re going to blind everyone walking down the aisle,” Jiminie gushed, her eyes twinkling. Jinnie tossed her hair and sassed, “Excuse me, I already am the prettiest woman in the world. The gown will just be a bonus.”
The car erupted in laughter, Taehyungie’s shoulders shaking as she clutched her bag. “Yah, you better work harder for me after this, Jinnie. I’ll make sure you suffer for stealing my brother.” “Stealing? Please. He begged.” Jinnie winked, and the girls howled louder, the teasing continuing all the way to the Kim residence.
But their amusement came to a screeching halt the moment they stepped through the heavy doors. The sight before them… was something out of absolute chaos.
The living room—once pristine—looked like a battlefield of childhood. Plushies scattered across the floor, toy cars overturned like wreckage, dolls missing limbs, and a blanket strung up in a perfect square, mimicking the ropes of a boxing ring.
And inside that makeshift ring? Namjoon and little Taehyun—both clad in protective headgear and oversized gloves—were in the middle of what could only be described as a boxing match. Namjoon was crouched low, sweat dripping from his brow, while Taehyun swung with all his tiny might, his determined face scrunched up adorably.
“Dodge, godson! Quick, dodge!” Claire squealed from the couch, her elegant figure draped with a blanket as if she were a cheerleader.
Beside her, Taeri sat cross-legged, her doll propped beside her, her face painted in a rainbow of smudged lipstick and blush. “Punch him, Uncle! Punch!” she screamed, lipstick streaking onto her little teeth as she grinned wide. Namjoon lunged forward suddenly, scooping Taehyun into a harmless tackle. The boy tumbled onto the blanket floor with a loud “oof!” and Taeri jumped to her feet, squealing in excitement. Claire clapped her hands, gasping as if watching a world title fight.
The front door clicked shut, and all three women froze. “What…” Jinnie’s voice rose in pitch, horrified, “…is happening in here!?”
The boxers froze mid-punch. Namjoon’s glove was awkwardly hovering an inch from Taehyun’s helmet. Both turned slowly, their expressions guilty—like two children caught red-handed. “Uh-oh,” Taehyun whispered.
Taeri gasped dramatically, lipstick-smeared smile flashing as she leapt over the plushie carnage, running straight into her mother’s legs. “Mama!” she squealed, nearly tripping on a toy car as she wrapped her tiny arms around Taehyungie’s thighs.
Claire, meanwhile, stood in the corner, her poise abandoned. She attempted the world’s slowest tiptoe toward the hallway. “Claire,” Taehyungie’s voice snapped like a whip. The fashion icon froze, mid-step, her perfectly styled hair swishing as she halted.
“Don’t you dare run,” Taehyungie said, her eyes narrowing. Claire’s back straightened instantly. She plastered on a smile, one hand smoothing her skirt as though she hadn’t just been caught cheering for an illegal toddler-boxing match.
“…It was educational?” Claire offered weakly. Jinnie set her bags down with a dramatic thud, placing her hands firmly on her hips. Her sharp glare went straight to Namjoon. “Kim Namjoon—why, for heaven’s sake, are you fist-fighting with a five-year-old!?”
Namjoon yanked his headgear off, panting, his hair sticking up in every direction. “It’s not fist-fighting! It’s—uh—training!” He gave a weak smile, glancing toward Claire for backup.
“Training for what?” Jiminie folded her arms, eyes narrowing. “World War Three?” Claire perked up instantly, seizing the opportunity. “Exactly!” she exclaimed, standing taller. “We are preparing Taehyun for life. He must learn agility, strength, resilience—”
Taehyungie raised an unimpressed brow. “With Namjoon as his opponent? Claire coughed delicately. “…Even soldiers must start somewhere.”
Taehyun scrambled up, tugging at his oversized gloves. “Mama, no! I asked Uncle Namjoon! He said yes because he’s brave!” Namjoon flinched at the word “brave” but quickly nodded. “That’s right. He insisted. And I—it was for… bonding!”
Jiminie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bonding doesn’t usually involve protective headgear and a blanket boxing ring, Namjoon.”
Meanwhile, Taeri was bouncing on her toes, eager to show off. “Mama, look!” She spread her arms wide, her little face smeared with lipstick, blush, and streaks of glitter. Even her doll looked like it had been attacked by the same makeup kit.
"Oh my!” Jiminie gasped, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. “She looks like a rainbow exploded on her face!”
Taehyungie crouched, her daughter beaming down at her with glittery pride. “Taeri… who did this to you?” “Godmother Claire!” Taeri announced proudly, pointing a glitter-stained finger. “She said I’m avant-garde! Like Paris!”
Claire cleared her throat and smoothed her designer blouse, utterly unapologetic. “Makeup is an art form. The child has potential.” “Potential to frighten the neighbors maybe,” Jinnie muttered, and Taehyung shot her a warning look before turning back to Claire.
“Claire, Namjoon, both of you—” Taehyungie pressed her fingers to her temple, as if warding off a headache. “—I left my children with you for three hours. Three hours! And I come back to a boxing ring and a walking Picasso painting?”
Namjoon and Claire exchanged guilty glances, both trying not to speak. From the floor, Taehyun tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “But Mama, I almost won!” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m strong like Daddy!” That hit Taehyungie right in the chest, her irritation faltering as her heart melted at his determination. Taeri tugged her hand next, grinning with glittery teeth. “And I’m pretty like Mama!”
The girls—Jinnie and Jiminie—burst into laughter then, unable to hold it in anymore. The scene was too ridiculous, too endearing, and too chaotic. Taehyungie sighed heavily, shaking her head. “You all are impossible,” she muttered, finally scooping Taeri into her arms while giving Taehyun a kiss on his sweaty forehead.
Claire relaxed, Namjoon gave a sheepish grin, and Jinnie finally picked up her shopping bags again.
--
The penthouse was wrapped in a warm hush, the glow of the lamps soft against the polished marble. Taehyungie sat curled on the couch, her children pressed close on either side, their little giggles spilling out as they scrolled through funny videos on her phone. The sound of the elevator’s ding echoed through the hall, followed by the measured steps of Jungkook.
His gaze softened immediately at the sight: his world seated on the couch, unaware of his presence. His lips curved into a mischievous smile as he leaned against the wall. “Oh hoh?” His voice was low, playful. “No greetings to Daddy? Even after a long day at work?”
Three heads lifted at once. The twins squealed in delight, abandoning the phone as they raced toward him. Jungkook dropped his briefcase without a second thought, crouching to catch them in his arms. He scooped them up effortlessly, one in each arm, his grin boyish and bright.
“I thought you wouldn’t come say hi to me,” he teased, kissing Taeri’s temple. Taeri giggled, throwing her small arms around his neck before planting a noisy kiss on his cheek. Beside her, Taehyun gave a smile that crinkled his nose—an exact replica of Jungkook’s own smile. Jungkook’s chest tightened at the sight.
His gaze lifted, finding Taehyungie still seated on the couch, lips twitching like she was fighting a smile. He smirked. “And what about you, my queen?” he asked smoothly. “No kisses for me?”
Taehyungie finally rose, clicking off the phone as she hid her curved lips behind a composed mask. “No,” she said simply, her tone light but teasing. Jungkook chuckled low in his throat, setting the twins down. They scrambled for the remote immediately, already caught up in a new debate over what to watch.
“Oh?” he pressed, eyes following Taehyungie’s swaying hips as she made her way toward the kitchen. She hummed, pulling her hair behind her ear as she pulled out dishes from the fridge. “You must be tired,” she said softly. “I’ll warm up your food while you freshen up.”
But Jungkook didn’t leave. His footsteps followed her, his gaze heavy on her back. She felt it—his presence like heat against her skin, his eyes burning with intent. Her lips curled slightly as she bent down to take the dish out, but before she could even straighten fully, a sudden yelp escaped her lips.
“Jungkook!” she gasped, her laughter tumbling out as he swept her off her feet in one fluid motion. “Drop me!” But he didn’t. Instead, he set her gently on the counter, his hands already finding her waist, his face dipping close. His lips found hers before she could even scold him again.
The kiss began soft, a brush of lips that quickly unraveled into something deeper, hungrier. Jungkook’s mouth moved with urgency, coaxing hers to part. She let him in, a faint moan vibrating in her throat as their lips slid together in fevered sync. Her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging him closer, while his palms anchored her firmly against the counter, thumbs stroking circles against her waist.
The world narrowed—just their mouths clashing and molding, breaths mingling, hearts hammering. The kiss deepened, Jungkook’s tongue sweeping past her lips, tasting her, savoring her. She kissed him back with equal fervor, pouring all her longing and resistance into the heat between them.
When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen, breaths ragged. Jungkook let out a satisfied hum, tilting his head to peck her lips once more, the sound wet and sinful in the quiet kitchen. Taehyungie, flushed, playfully pushed at his chest, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Go freshen up,” she whispered, her voice shaky but teasing.
He only hummed, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns against her waist. “How was work?” she asked softly, wanting to ground them back. Jungkook’s sigh was heavy, his head dipping to rest briefly against her shoulder before lifting again. “We’re still working on it. Tracking, searching. Nothing yet.”
Taehyungie bit her lip, worry flickering across her face. She hesitated before asking, voice low, “The person who sent that message… did you catch them yet?”
He shook his head. Her heart clenched, but instead of giving in to fear, she leaned in, pressing a small, reassuring kiss to the tip of his nose. “You’ll protect us,” she whispered with quiet certainty.
Something inside him melted. He guided her carefully off the counter, his hands still steady on her waist, unwilling to let her go entirely. She moved to the stove, unwrapping his dinner while Jungkook sank onto a stool at the counter, eyes never leaving her.
She began to rant, her words spilling out like music—about the mall, about the endless teasing at Jinnie’s fitting, about how ridiculous Jinnie was being over her wedding gown. Jungkook only smiled, watching her lips move, the sway of her hair, the animation in her hands. She didn’t mention the masked man, her silence deliberate, but she kept talking, filling the air with her voice.
Then she described the chaos she returned to at the Kim mansion: Namjoon in boxing gear, Claire coaching from the sidelines, Taeri’s glitter-smeared face, Taehyun in makeshift battle. Jungkook laughed—full and unrestrained, the sound filling the kitchen like sunlight breaking through.
And Taehyungie’s heart, though wrapped in worry, softened. In that moment—her children safe, Jungkook sitting before her like a lovesick fool, the kitchen warm with laughter—she let herself believe that, maybe, they could still have this.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 38: To feel
Chapter Text
The sound of footsteps echoed down the dimly lit corridor, each step slow, deliberate, carrying an unspoken weight. The masked man pushed the door open, slipping into the shadowed room.
Behind the wide desk, the figure sat perched on a black swivel chair, posture sharp, movements poised. In their hand, a single photograph lay — the image of a young woman staring back, her smile caught in frozen innocence. The figure’s lips curled into a scowl, hatred flickering in their eyes like a steady flame.
The masked man bowed low. “I was nearly caught,” his voice was muffled beneath the fabric, edged with tension. The figure didn’t look at him, gaze locked on the photograph. Fingers tightened against the glossy paper, nails biting in.
“I managed to record only a portion of their talk,” the masked man continued carefully, “but it is… useless. They only mentioned a wedding.” At that, the figure’s head tilted ever so slightly, finally acknowledging him with a faint hum. A sound too calm, too composed — chilling in its restraint.
The photo crumpled in their fist with a sharp crackle. One flick of their finger — a simple gesture — and the masked man understood. He bowed again before retreating swiftly, the door clicking shut behind him.
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, the figure rose from the chair, shadows clinging to their frame.
“A wedding, you say?” Their voice dripped with venom, the words echoing in the room. And then, laughter. Low, dark, unhinged. It filled the air, spilling over into something monstrous, almost inhuman.
“Guess someone isn’t getting married.” The torn photograph fluttered from their hand to the floor, crushed beneath their heel.
--
The bedroom was quiet, bathed in the soft golden hue of the night lamp. The city’s glow filtered faintly through the curtains, leaving shadows scattered across the walls. Taehyungie lay nestled against Jungkook’s chest, her cheek pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His warmth cocooned her, his arm draped securely around her waist, but her mind refused to settle.
The mall. The masked man. That strange heaviness that had pressed against her ribs ever since. She couldn’t shake the feeling. Something about him was wrong, terribly wrong. Her brows knitted faintly, the unease returning to stir her drifting thoughts.
Then, a soft kiss pressed into her hair. Jungkook’s lips lingered there, pulling her back into the present. “Baby…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, a contrast to the steady confidence he wore during the day.
“Mm?” She hummed against him, eyes half-closed. “My parents… they want to meet you. Meet the kids.”
That made her blink. Slowly, she lifted her head from his chest, her sleepy gaze sharpening. For a moment, her expression shifted — unreadable, caught between old wounds and present peace. Jungkook saw it instantly, panic flickering in his eyes.
“If that’s what you want,” he rushed, his hand tightening gently on her waist. “I can tell them no. We don’t have to—” Taehyungie shook her head before he could finish, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They’re the kids’ grandparents, Jungkook. They should meet them.”
He searched her face carefully, as if trying to catch the tiniest sign of hesitation hiding beneath her calm. “Are you sure?” His voice was soft, almost pleading. She laughed lightly, breaking the tension, and pinched his chest just enough to make him grunt. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Relief washed over his face, and he couldn’t stop the foolish smile that broke across his lips. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, lingering there in gratitude. Taehyungie shifted, adjusting herself more comfortably on the bed. Her lashes grew heavier with each blink, exhaustion finally winning its battle. Within moments, her breathing softened, steady and calm against him.
Jungkook lay awake a little longer, staring at her peaceful face, a foolish smile glued to his lips. His queen. His everything.
--
The morning sun spilled gently through the tinted windows of the sleek black car, painting everything in a golden glow as they cruised down the long stretch of road. The city’s bustle was far behind them now, replaced by winding lanes framed with tall trees whose leaves shivered under the touch of the breeze.
Inside the car, Taehyun and Taeri were buckled snugly into their seats at the back, their little faces pressed against the glass. Excitement sparkled in their wide eyes, curiosity uncontained. Jungkook had teased them earlier when they asked where they were going, his voice playful as he said, “It’s a surprise.”
Now, as the sleek car rolled past towering wrought-iron gates, the twins gasped in unison. Beyond the gates sprawled the Jeon estate — an endless expanse of manicured gardens, fountains that glittered under the sunlight, and the imposing grandeur of the mansion itself.
“Woooow…” Taeri’s awe-filled whisper fogged up the glass. “It’s so big!” Taehyun pressed his palms against the window.
Their father chuckled under his breath, the sound warm. “Just wait till you see inside,” Jungkook said, his hands steady on the wheel.
But beside him, Taehyungie had grown quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, the morning light softening her delicate features. Today she wore a flowing ivory blouse tucked into a beige pleated skirt, the fabric moving with the slightest breath of air. A pair of pearl earrings glimmered faintly against her dark hair, which cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves. She looked elegant yet understated, the kind of beauty that stole breaths without effort.
Her eyes, however, were not on her clothes. They lingered on the estate that stretched before them. Her heart gave a quiet thud in her chest. This place. Memories stirred like ghosts — the gardens where she once ran barefoot, the hallways where childish laughter echoed, the boy who held her hand through it all.
So many years, yet every corner of this house still held pieces of her childhood. She was certain if she walked in alone now, she’d lose herself in its sheer size. The car rolled to a smooth stop before the grand entrance. Jungkook killed the engine and was out in a flash, jogging around to the passenger side. He pulled the door open with a flourish, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.
“Madam,” he said, bowing dramatically. Taehyungie’s cheeks flushed the faintest pink as she stepped out, her skirt fluttering around her legs. The warmth in Jungkook’s eyes lingered on her longer than it should have, and then came the inevitable whistle.
“Damn… my queen looks too good. How am I supposed to focus on anything else today?” She gasped, swatting at his arm playfully. “You’ve been saying that since morning. Aren’t you tired of hearing yourself?” He only winked, shameless. “Never.”
Before she could retort, he moved to the back, opening the door for the twins. They scrambled out, their small hands instantly clutching the fabric of Jungkook’s trousers as their eyes darted around. “Is this a castle?” Taeri asked breathlessly.
“It looks like it,” Taehyun murmured, utterly fascinated.
Jungkook’s grin softened as he bent slightly, holding both their hands firmly in his large palms. “Come on, you two. Time to meet someone special.” Together, the four of them walked up the grand steps. The towering wooden doors loomed, carved with intricate patterns, and as if sensing their arrival, they opened with a low creak.
A butler stood there, immaculate in his suit, but the moment his eyes landed on the children, his composure cracked. He gasped quietly, lips parting in disbelief. The sight of the twins — the uncanny resemblance, the air of familiarity in their small faces — struck him speechless.
Jungkook gave the man a polite nod and squeezed his children’s hands reassuringly, ready to take the first step inside. The butler stepped aside quickly, bowing low as the family moved past him into the vast entryway of the Jeon estate.
The grand hall opened like something out of a dream. High ceilings stretched above them, glimmering with a crystal chandelier that caught the sunlight streaming through tall arched windows. The polished marble floor reflected their steps, cool and pristine, while oil paintings of ancestors watched silently from the walls.
“Whoaaa…” Taeri’s voice bounced off the walls, her little sneakers squeaking against the marble as she spun around, her head tilting back to take it all in. “It’s soooo shiny!” Taehyun’s jaw dropped as he spotted a towering vase by the staircase. He ran toward it, his tiny hand hovering dangerously close. “It’s bigger than me!”
“Don’t touch—” Taehyungie started, her voice catching in her throat, but Jungkook’s chuckle cut through, warm and steady. “They’re fine,” he reassured, guiding the boy gently away from the priceless porcelain. “There’s a lot to see here. We’ll explore together later.”
Taeri, meanwhile, pressed her palms to the glossy floor, peering at her reflection before bursting into a giggle. “Mama, look! The ground is like a mirror!” Her laughter echoed, filling the cold, silent hall with life.
Taehyungie tried to smile at their innocence, but her chest felt tight. Standing here, inside these walls again… she almost couldn’t breathe. Every corner whispered memories — hiding behind the staircase with Jungkook as children, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, racing down the very hall the twins now explored.
She hadn’t realized she’d gripped her skirt until Jungkook’s hand brushed against hers. She looked up, startled, and found him watching her quietly. His gaze wasn’t teasing this time; it was steady, grounding. “You okay?” he murmured low, just for her.
Her lips parted, but for a moment, no words came. Then she nodded, her voice softer than she intended. “Yes… just a little… overwhelmed.” Jungkook’s thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles before he let go, giving her space. “I’m here,” he said simply.
Taehyungie swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced back at the children — Taehyun now dragging a fascinated Taeri toward the enormous staircase, both of them chattering about which step was the tallest.
A quiet laugh slipped past her lips despite her nerves. “I’ll have to keep my eyes on those two, or they’ll run this entire place down.” “Let them,” Jungkook said with a grin. “This house has been too quiet for too long.”
Before Taehyungie could reply, footsteps echoed faintly from deeper within the estate — measured, deliberate, approaching. The twins froze mid-play, their wide eyes flicking toward the sound. Taehyungie’s heart stuttered.
From the far end of the hall, Yeona’s voice carried first, sharp and frustrated, echoing against the marble walls. “…and I told them three times already, if the gardeners don’t trim those hedges properly, the entire courtyard will look like a jungle! How many times must I repeat myself—” Her rant cut off suddenly.
Chairman Jeon, following behind with a low chuckle at his wife’s complaints, slowed his pace. His deep laughter faltered as well when his gaze caught the figures standing at the entrance of the grand hall. Yeona froze on the last step, her eyes widening, her breath catching in her throat. At first her gaze landed on Jungkook, then on Taehyungie beside him… and then—on the two small shadows clutching at their father’s legs.
Her eyes trembled, filled with disbelief, and then shone with unshed tears. “Ohhh…” A hand flew to her lips. “Oh, heavens…” Jungkook let out a startled laugh, half-worried as his mother clutched at the banister. “Eomma, careful—don’t run, you’ll fall!”
But Yeona could not stop herself. She hurried down the rest of the steps, her steps light despite her son’s warning. Her eyes did not leave the young woman standing before her, trembling faintly as if she were a dream about to disappear. “Taehyungie…” Yeona’s voice cracked.
Taehyungie’s own lips parted, her throat tightening painfully. “Aunt…” she whispered, voice breaking. Yeona reached her at last, her hands flying up to cup Taehyungie’s face. She held her as though she’d never let go, eyes roving over her features, memorizing, confirming. Tears slipped free, and then she pulled her into her arms, holding her tight against her chest.
“My sweet girl… oh, my child…” she murmured, brushing through Taehyungie’s hair with trembling fingers. “You’ve grown so beautifully… so strong…” Taehyungie’s tears finally spilled, her arms circling Yeona as her chest heaved against her. “Aunt…” Her voice was muffled in the woman’s shoulder, her heart aching at the familiar warmth.
Yeona pulled back just enough to grip her hands, kissing them fervently. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered with conviction. Taehyungie let out a wet laugh, nodding, her voice shaky. “Thank you… thank you…”
It was then Yeona’s gaze shifted. Behind Jungkook, two pairs of wide, uncertain eyes peered up at her — Taehyun holding onto his father’s trousers, Taeri clutching at her brother’s hand. “Ohhh…” Yeona’s tears turned into laughter, her heart spilling over. She bent slightly, opening her arms in welcome. “Come here, little ones.”
Taeri hesitated, her big doe eyes darting first to Jungkook. He smiled down at her, his hand gently nudging her forward. Slowly, nervously, she toddled closer until Yeona swept her up into her arms. “Oh, you precious thing…” Yeona pressed a kiss to her cheek, her tears dampening the little girl’s soft skin.
Taeri blinked, uncertain, and turned her gaze toward her father. Jungkook gave her a reassuring grin, his eyes sparkling with joy. Only then did Taeri giggle softly, settling into Yeona’s embrace. “And what about you?” Jungkook crouched beside his son, brushing Taehyun’s hair back. “Go on, buddy. Say hi.”
Taehyun pursed his lips but eventually shuffled forward, his gaze lifting shyly to the woman before him. Yeona gasped when she saw him clearly — the sharp nose, the scrunched little smile that mirrored Jungkook’s so perfectly.
“Oh heavens above!” She laughed through her tears. “He’s Jungkook all over again. Just… smaller!” Jungkook groaned dramatically, though pride glowed in his eyes as he watched his son stand tall.
Yeona carefully set Taeri down before pulling Taehyun close, her hands framing his face as she brushed his hair back lovingly.
Meanwhile, Chairman Jeon finally moved forward. His steps were slower, heavier, as he reached Taehyungie. Without a word at first, he pulled her into his embrace, his arms trembling faintly. “You’ve carried so much…” His voice was low, rough with emotion. “Yet you stand here strong. You’ve made me proud, Taehyungie-ah.”
Taehyungie’s breath hitched, her arms circling him tightly as her tears dampened his suit. Jungkook stood a little apart, his throat burning. He rubbed his jaw, his vision blurring slightly, though he smiled through it. His heart had not felt this full in years.
Just then, Taeri turned her curious gaze to the towering figure who held her mother. Tilting her head, she pointed at him with her tiny finger. “He looks like you, Daddy.”
The hall went silent for a beat. Then laughter rippled through it — Taehyungie chuckling wetly, Jungkook’s ears turning red, Yeona wiping her eyes with a fond smile, and even Chairman Jeon letting out a booming laugh as he turned to the little girl.
He bent down, scooping Taeri into his arms. Her small hands instantly wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressing to his shoulder.
“I’m from the past,” he teased, his deep voice rumbling. Taeri blinked in confusion, tilting her head. “Huh?”
Yeona bent beside Taehyun, brushing her fingers through his hair as her laughter spilled again. “Sweethearts… we’re your grandparents.” The twins froze. Their wide eyes darted to Jungkook, who only smiled softly, nodding.
And for the first time, the heavy walls of the Jeon estate felt alive again — echoing not with silence, but with family.
--
The sun had climbed higher by the time the family spilled into the estate gardens. The hedges, the very ones Yeona had just been scolding the gardeners about, now stood as a maze of green, trimmed into curves and arches that seemed to tower over the children like magic walls.
Taehyun and Taeri bolted forward the moment their shoes touched the grass. Their delighted squeals carried across the garden as they darted after one another, their tiny figures dwarfed by the sprawling space.
Yeona clasped her hands together, her face glowing as she watched. “My grandchildren…” Her voice broke again as tears threatened. “Running in our garden…” “They’re going to get spoiled rotten,” Jungkook teased, though the way his smile lingered on the twins betrayed his own softness.
“Of course they will,” Yeona retorted, swatting lightly at his arm. She bent down, her skirts brushing the grass, calling out, “Come here, darlings!”
Taeri skidded to a stop, giggling as she ran back. Yeona scooped her up, spinning her in a circle until both of them were laughing breathlessly. Taehyun joined in moments later, clinging to Yeona’s skirts until his grandfather bent down with surprising gentleness to lift him into his arms.
Chairman Jeon, usually a figure of immovable authority, softened visibly as he studied the boy in his arms. “You’re just like your father,” he said, brushing a thumb over Taehyun’s cheek. “But perhaps you’ll be a bit wiser.”
Jungkook groaned. “Father...” The chairman only chuckled, ruffling Taehyun’s hair.
Meanwhile, Taehyungie stood slightly apart, her hand clutching the folds of her dress, eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. This garden—she had spent her childhood here, running, laughing, hand-in-hand with Jungkook. And now, her children played in the same space, loved by the very people who had once embraced her as their own.
Jungkook noticed her faraway expression. He walked up quietly, brushing his fingers lightly against hers. “You okay?” he murmured. She blinked, startled, then nodded with a faint smile. “Just… memories.” Jungkook’s smile softened, his eyes warm as they followed the twins together.
By the time they gathered at the long dining table inside, the mood was lighter. Silverware gleamed under the chandelier, the air perfumed with roasted meats, fragrant rice, and bowls of steaming soup. Yeona could hardly contain her joy — every other moment she was leaning over to pass more food onto the twins’ plates, fussing over whether they liked kimchi or if the soup was too hot.
“Eomma...,” Jungkook sighed, chuckling as he tried to intervene. “They can serve themselves—”
“Nonsense,” Yeona snapped fondly. “These are my grandchildren. Let me spoil them.” Taeri giggled as another dumpling was placed on her plate. “Thank you, grandma,” she chimed sweetly, earning herself a kiss on the cheek.
Taehyun, meanwhile, tried to act older, sitting straighter as he politely thanked his grandfather when served. Chairman Jeon’s usually stern face softened at the boy’s manners, pride swelling in his chest. But beneath the joy, threads of tension tugged at the edges.
Taehyungie sat between the twins, smiling faintly, but her fingers fidgeted beneath the tablecloth. This was warm, this was home—but it was also dangerous. She remembered too well the power of this household, the pressures it had placed on Jungkook in the past.
Jungkook, sitting across from her, felt it too. He caught her eyes once, a silent promise shining there. The twins, blissfully unaware, chattered about Paris, about their favorite playgrounds, about how “grand” the Jeon house was compared to their penthouse. Their laughter filled the gaps in conversation, easing the weight hanging above the adults.
And as the meal continued, Yeona’s tears came again, unashamed, as she declared, “This… this is everything I ever wanted. Our family. Together.” Jungkook ducked his head, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. Taehyungie, without realizing it, reached under the table to brush her fingers against her children’s hands, grounding herself.
Yet somewhere in the silence that followed, Chairman Jeon’s eyes lingered on Jungkook — steady, calculating — as though already weighing the next steps in his son’s future. The warmth of the moment glowed brightly… but shadows lingered at the edges, waiting.
--
After dinner, Yeona rose from her seat, her hand immediately finding Taehyungie’s. Her eyes were still shining from earlier, and her voice softened into a warm lilt. “Come with me, Tae-ah,” she said, smiling knowingly. “We need some ladies’ talk.”
Taehyungie blinked but allowed herself to be tugged along, sending a quick glance back at Jungkook. He gave her a small nod, lips quirking as if to say, go on, it’s fine. The twins, however, stayed behind, caught between curiosity and excitement when Chairman Jeon clapped his hands.
“Well then,” he boomed playfully, eyes twinkling, “who wants to see some secrets about your daddy?” “Secrets?!” Taeri gasped, clutching her brother’s arm.
“Daddy has secrets?!” Taehyun’s mouth hung open. Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “father…” But his father only chuckled and guided the little ones into the lounge. Jungkook followed reluctantly, hovering near the wall.
The lounge was cozy, shelves of books and glass cabinets surrounding them. On the table sat a thick leather album. Its edges were worn, the cover faded with age. Chairman Jeon placed it down gently, as if it carried treasure inside.
“Sit, sit,” he said, pulling the twins close. The first page opened — and the room erupted with giggles. “Daddyyy!” Taeri squealed, pointing at a photo of a chubby baby Jungkook with cake all over his face, crying miserably.
“That’s you?!” Taehyun laughed so hard he nearly toppled over. Jungkook groaned. “This was a mistake.”
Chairman Jeon’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Your daddy at two. Always noisy.” The twins squealed with joy as more photos followed. Baby Jungkook in diapers, running in sprinklers. A little Jungkook with ice cream smeared across his nose. Jungkook sitting at the piano, legs too short to reach the floor. “Daddy’s funny!” Taeri giggled, clapping her hands.
“Daddy looks silly!” Taehyun added, pointing at another. Jungkook sighed, but his lips twitched into a smile as he watched their delight. The pages turned again. Jungkook at his first graduation, ears too big for his head. Him holding up a shiny trophy, beaming with the same bunny smile his children had. The twins’ faces lit up as if the pride was theirs to share.
Then came the page that made them both freeze. The photo showed two children, hand in hand. A little girl with her hair in a high ponytail, her grin boxy and bright. Beside her stood a boy, slightly taller, his doe eyes shining like he held the sun in his palm.
Taeri’s mouth fell open. “Who’s that?” she whispered, pointing at the girl. Chairman Jeon’s smile softened. He tapped the image gently. “That’s your mama.” The twins gasped at the same time.
“MAMA?!”
Taehyun leaned close, staring with wide eyes. “Mama pretty…” he murmured in awe. Jungkook’s chest tightened as he looked at the picture, his throat burning. Taehyungie had been six. He was eight. Even back then, he hadn’t seen her as just a friend. He had loved her before he even knew what love was.
The next page showed Taehyungie curled up under Jungkook’s blanket during a sleepover, his small arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Taeri covered her mouth with both hands. “Daddy always with Mama!”
Jungkook nearly choked. “Wha—hey—” Chairman Jeon chuckled, “It’s true. He never let her out of his sight.” His eyes flicked at his son knowingly, making Jungkook blush.
The twins leaned forward eagerly as more memories appeared. Taehyungie and Namjoon at Jungkook’s birthday, both with frosting smeared on their cheeks. The twins burst out laughing, Taehyun squealing, “Uncle Joonie looks funny!”
Then another photo — Jungkook piggybacking Taehyungie across the yard. Her wide, boxy smile stretched across her face, and Jungkook’s bunny grin was just as wide, his doe eyes shining with joy. Taeri sighed dreamily. “Mama and daddy look like prince and princess.”
Taehyun nodded seriously. “No. Like heroes.” Jungkook’s breath caught. He didn’t speak — couldn’t. He just stared at the photo, his heart swelling so painfully it felt like it might break apart.
For the twins, these were new discoveries. For Jungkook, it was the past returning with full force. And for Chairman Jeon, watching his grandchildren fall in love with their parents’ story, it was the sweetest proof that some bonds never truly fade.
--
The dusk air was cool when Yeona led Taehyungie through the double doors and into the quiet garden. The faint fragrance of blooming jasmine lingered in the air, wrapping around them like a tender veil. The sound of laughter and chatter from inside faded into distant echoes as the two women stepped onto the stone path.
Yeona’s hand never left Taehyungie’s. Her grip was gentle yet unyielding, as if afraid the younger woman would slip away if she let go. They reached a small bench beneath a flowering tree, the leaves rustling softly in the night breeze. For a moment, silence blanketed them. Only the hum of cicadas and the faint trickle of the garden fountain filled the space.
Taehyungie shifted slightly, uncertain, but before she could speak, Yeona turned to her. Her eyes glistened under the dim garden lights, tears already threatening to fall. She brought Taehyungie’s hand up and pressed trembling lips against her knuckles.
Taehyungie gasped, startled, and instinctively tried to pull away. “Aunt—” “Let me,” Yeona whispered, her voice cracking. She held on, kissed her hand again, and smiled through her tears. “Please… let me.”
Taehyungie froze, heart tightening as Yeona’s tears fell freely now. “Thank you,” Yeona whispered, her gaze soft yet heavy with emotion. “Thank you for saving my son… when he didn’t even know he was drowning.”
Taehyungie’s lips parted, but no words came. Her throat ached, her eyes stinging as she quickly looked away. Yeona shifted closer, her hands still clasping Taehyungie’s tightly. “You know… I always blamed myself,” she began, her voice trembling, “for not protecting him properly. His father… was so strict. Too strict. Always wanting Jungkook to be a perfect Jeon. A leader. A name. Not a boy.”
Her chest rose shakily as more tears slid down her cheeks.
“When his father saw how much he loved you—even as children—he hated it. He thought it would make Jungkook weak. So he pushed harder. He doubled the training. He taught him to think feelings were nothing but weakness, that power was all that mattered. And I…” she broke off with a ragged breath, shaking her head, “…I was too weak to fight for him. I should have screamed, I should have stopped it. But I didn’t. And I watched my son… my sweet, gentle boy… slowly break down in front of me. Until he became cold. Empty.”
Taehyungie’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. Yeona bit her lip to keep from sobbing. “His father decided to leave him alone in this country to toughen him up. And like a fool, I followed. I thought it was for his future. But I wished every day I hadn’t. By the time we came back, he was no longer the boy who loved to draw, who sang at the top of his lungs, who begged me to cook your favorite meal whenever you visited.”
Taehyungie blinked rapidly, memories of a younger Jungkook flashing before her eyes. Yeona’s fingers squeezed hers tighter. “He wasn’t the boy who gushed endlessly about his Tae bear anymore.” Taehyungie’s breath hitched, her lips trembling.
“I asked him once,” Yeona continued, “if something—or someone—was wrong. He brushed me off. Said he was fine. But I knew. I knew my son was hurting. I just didn’t know how deep the wound went.”
The older woman closed her eyes, a tear rolling down as she whispered, “Years later… he told me about two little children he met in Paris. Full of laughter, mischief, light. He didn’t understand why he adored them so much. But I knew. I saw a spark return to his eyes that day. A spark I hadn’t seen in years. So I prayed. I prayed the heavens wouldn’t let it die again.”
Her voice cracked fully now. “The day I learned the truth—your past, that cruel dare, his betrayal, your pregnancy—I broke. I sobbed because I had failed as a mother. I wasn’t there to stop him. I wasn’t there to protect you. And I was angry. So angry at him. At myself. He knew better. And yet he hurt you so deeply, my darling.”
Taehyungie bit her trembling lip hard, but the tears betrayed her, spilling silently down her cheeks.
“You went through so much,” Yeona whispered, her thumb brushing Taehyungie’s damp cheek gently. “Alone. Raising those babies with no help, with no apology. You endured the pain he should have shared. And when I discovered the twins were his… and yours… I wanted to run to you immediately. To kiss away your pain. To hold you, to thank you for your strength. Because you—” Yeona’s voice faltered, “—you are extraordinary.”
Taehyungie bowed her head, her shoulders trembling. Yeona drew her into her arms without hesitation, holding her close like a mother would. “You had every right to be cold to him,” she murmured into Taehyungie’s hair. “I understood it. I respected it. Because if I were you, I would have done the same. Jungkook deserved that pain. He needed to feel it. And he did. He was a wreck. He cried. He drank. He begged me to beg you. But I refused. I told him no. I told him he had to fight on his own. For your trust. For your forgiveness. For your love.”
Her tears dampened Taehyungie’s shoulder as she pulled back slightly, cupping the younger woman’s face. “I thought it was over. That he’d never get another chance. But he proved me wrong. He fought. He changed. He became a man I could finally be proud of.”
Yeona’s lips curved into a trembling smile. Her thumb brushed Taehyungie’s cheek tenderly. “And now… you’re here. More radiant than ever. Stronger. Beautiful. My sweet girl.” Taehyungie’s tears fell freely now. She could barely see Yeona through the blur, but she felt her sincerity in every word, every touch.
And it broke her.
Her lips trembled as though the words were thorns forcing themselves out of her chest. Her voice was fragile, but each syllable carried the weight of years of buried grief.
“I was so hurt, auntie…” she whispered, her throat tightening. “I loved Jungkook so much. He made me feel alive, made me believe in love, and then—he ripped it away. When he broke up with me as a teenager, it shattered me in ways I didn’t even understand then. My best friends tried… they tried to help me through it. But their warmth wasn’t enough. I still carried him h-here—” she pressed her trembling palm against her chest “—and it burned me e-every day.”
Her lashes fluttered with gathering tears, and she tried to steady her breath before continuing, her words tumbling like jagged stones.
“When I was seventeen, he came back. A-at first, I was cold. I hated him for what he’d done. But… I still l-loved him, auntie. And slowly, my walls began to c-crack. H-he told me he m-missed me, that he wanted us to catch up. I b-believed him. I let myself believe him. I followed him.” She gave a trembling laugh, more broken than bitter. “We went to his penthouse. We looked at old pictures, and I got emotional. Maybe that’s what weakened me. I let him t-touch me… k-kiss me… even after all those years of absence and pain. I let him, because I thought he came back for me. B-but I was wrong.”
A sharp sniff escaped her, her eyes squeezing shut as her voice broke. “I got pregnant later. I was terrified—so scared. But I told him. I told him, a-and…” Her voice collapsed into a sob. She covered her face with shaking hands, her body curling inward like she was bracing for impact.
Yeona let out a pained sound and immediately pulled her into her arms, stroking her hair. “Shh, I know, I know, my child…”
But Taehyungie pulled back, her tears streaking hot trails down her face. “He told me it was a dare. A dare, auntie. I felt my whole world collapse in that moment. I felt used. D-dumped. Like everything I believed in was just… a cruel joke. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t live in that shadow. So I left. I took my babies and left the country. I wanted to start over. To build a life where love was real and safe. Where my children would never feel the betrayal I felt.”
Her hands clenched in her lap, knuckles paling, as her voice grew sharper, laced with the remnants of rage. “But after five years, he came back. And I hated him. God, I hated him so much. His presence made my skin crawl, every reminder of what he’d done twisting into my chest like a knife. I didn’t want him near my children. Never. But fate…” her voice cracked, “fate didn’t care what I wanted.”
Her shoulders trembled, and her lips quivered as she pushed on. “He begged, pleaded, sobbed. Told me to punish him. And I did. I let him drown in the pain he caused me. I wanted him to suffer like I did. And for a moment, it felt good. It felt right. But punishment wasn’t enough.”
Her eyes lifted, glassy and storming with unspent tears. “I allowed him to visit the kids. Only them. Because he is their father. I couldn’t take that away from them, no matter how much it tore at me. But every time he was around, it suffocated me. Memories I tried to bury clawed their way back, louder, sharper. The hatred was eating me alive.”
Her voice softened then, weary but clearer, as though she were unburdening herself bit by bit. “Someone advised me to give him a chance. To let him prove himself. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. To unclench my fists. To breathe again. To let myself… feel.”
Her lips curved in a broken smile, sadness and strength mingling. “And I don’t regret it. He caused me pain, yes. So much pain. But maybe that’s what shaped me into who I am today. He’s a wonderful father. The kids adore him. He protects them with his whole being. And for that, I am grateful.”
Her gaze fell to their joined hands, her tears dripping onto Yeona’s fingers. “But I haven’t forgiven him fully. Not yet. The scars are still there, auntie. Sometimes, even when I laugh with him, I still feel the ache. Maybe someday, when my heart is whole again, when the memories don’t sting anymore… maybe then I’ll forgive him.”
Yeona’s throat ached as she listened, her heart twisting with every word that spilled from Taehyungie’s trembling lips. When Taehyungie finally broke into silence, her head lowered in defeat, Yeona cupped her cheeks gently, forcing her to look up. Her own eyes were glistening, but her voice was steady, a warmth Taehyungie didn’t know she needed.
“Oh, my sweet girl…” Yeona whispered, her thumbs brushing away Taehyungie’s tears even as her own fell. “You’ve carried storms no child should have endured. To love so deeply, and be broken so cruelly… it should never have been your burden. You were only a girl, Tae. You should have been cherished, protected, not scarred like this.”
She leaned closer, pressing her forehead to Taehyungie’s, her voice trembling. “I failed too. I should have fought harder for him, for Jungkook. I should have shielded him from a father who only knew strictness and power. I should have fought to keep the warmth in his heart alive. Instead, I watched him turn cold. And that coldness—it cut you. My child, you bled because of our mistakes.”
Taehyungie’s lips quivered, but Yeona didn’t let her look away. She held her palms tighter.
“But listen to me,” Yeona said firmly, her tone turning fierce in its tenderness. “Do not think your pain was in vain. Look at you now. You are strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You left, you raised two beautiful children alone, and you built a life on your own terms. That strength? That resilience? That is you, Taehyungie. Not the pain he gave you, not the betrayal, but you.”
She kissed Taehyungie’s knuckles, holding them to her lips. “And as for forgiveness… my darling, it’s not a debt you owe to anyone. Not even to Jungkook. You give it only when your heart is ready, when your wounds have softened into scars you can touch without trembling. Until then, don’t force yourself. Don’t rush. Your healing is your own.”
Her voice broke softly at the edges as she continued, “But I’ll tell you this… I see my son now. And for the first time in many years, I see the boy I once knew. The boy who drew, who sang, who carried your name like sunlight in his chest. That boy is alive again because of you—because of your children. And I am endlessly grateful, Tae. Grateful beyond words, because you gave me back my son.”
Yeona squeezed her hands tighter, her smile fragile but radiant through her tears. “So thank you, my love. Thank you for saving him, even when he hurt you. Thank you for giving him another chance, when you had every right to slam every door in his face. Thank you for giving me a family again.”
Then, with a broken laugh, she pulled Taehyungie into her arms, holding her like she was her own daughter. “You are my daughter, Taehyungie. Not by blood, but by heart. And I will stand with you, always. In your anger, in your healing, in your forgiveness—whenever it comes.”
Taehyungie’s lips trembled, her teeth biting down hard to stop the sob that clawed up her throat, but Yeona’s embrace broke every wall she had built. The moment those arms wrapped around her, warm and maternal, Taehyungie’s strength shattered.
A choked cry tore from her chest. She clutched Yeona’s shoulders like she was drowning, her face burying into the woman’s neck as years of suppressed ache finally poured out. Her small frame trembled violently, every sob sounding like it was being ripped from the depths of her soul.
“Auntie… I– I tried to be strong…!” Taehyungie cried, her voice breaking apart, raw and desperate. “I tried so hard… I didn’t want anyone to see me weak, I didn’t want my babies to know how much I cried when they slept. I told myself I could do it alone, that I didn’t need anyone—but it hurt, it hurt so much! It still hurts!”
Yeona’s own tears soaked into Taehyungie’s hair as she held her tighter, rocking her gently like a child. “Shhh, my sweet girl. Let it out. Let me carry some of your pain… you don’t have to be strong with me.”
Taehyungie shook her head, gripping at Yeona’s dress, sobbing harder. “Every night… I asked myself why. Why wasn’t I enough? Why did he throw me away like I was nothing? I hated him. I hated him so much, but I hated myself too… for still loving him.” Her words collapsed into ragged sobs, chest heaving against Yeona’s.
Yeona hushed her, whispering through her own cries, “You were always enough, Taehyungie. Always. It was never you who was lacking, never. It was the world that failed you. It was us who failed you. My son… I failed him, and in turn, I failed you.” She kissed the crown of Taehyungie’s head, her hands stroking her hair. “But no more, my child. No more. You are not alone anymore. You have me now. You have a mother in me.”
Taehyungie broke at those words. Her sobs grew helpless, almost childlike, muffled against Yeona’s shoulder. “I was so tired…” she whispered between sobs, her voice so small it cracked Yieeona’s heart. “I was so tired of pretending I’m not broken.”
Yeona pulled back only enough to cradle Taehyungie’s face in both hands, her thumbs wiping the endless stream of tears. Her gaze was fierce even through her own pain. “Don’t pretend anymore, my darling. Break, cry, scream—whatever you need. I will hold every shattered piece of you until you are whole again. Do you hear me? You are my daughter. You are not alone.”
And with that, Taehyungie collapsed into her again, sobbing harder, finally letting years of torment bleed out. The garden was quiet but for the sound of their tears—one woman mourning her failures as a mother, and another mourning her broken youth. But between those tears was a bond being woven, one that promised Taehyungie she would never have to carry her pain alone again.
--
When they returned to the lounge, the heaviness of their garden talk seemed to ease into something softer, gentler. The sight that greeted them was enough to melt anyone’s heart.
Little Taeri was curled up on Chairman Jeon’s lap, her tiny head leaning against his chest as she fought the weight of her eyelids. Every so often, her lashes fluttered, and her small hand clung to his suit as if afraid he would vanish if she let go. The stern man, usually so rigid, sat utterly still, his large hand patting her back with a tenderness that spoke volumes.
On the other side, Taehyun was perched on the couch, cookie crumbs stuck to his cheeks and chocolate smeared along his lips, his eyes glued to the bright screen. He chomped noisily, his little hands sticky, while Jungkook knelt in front of him with a napkin, carefully wiping at his mouth. “Open up,” Jungkook murmured, catching a smudge at the corner of his lips. Taehyun obediently puffed out his cheeks, never once looking away from the movie.
Yeona smiled, her eyes soft as she gestured toward the scene. “Look at them,” she whispered.
Taehyungie couldn’t help it—she laughed, a small, sweet sound that lifted the last of the heaviness from her chest. She looked like the young woman she truly was, not just the mother who carried years of hidden pain.
Yeona tugged gently at her hand, leading her away from the warmth of the lounge into a small yet luxurious room. The chandelier light caught something on the dresser, and Yeona walked over, picking up a slender gold bracelet. The jewel gleamed under the light as she turned and took Taehyungie’s hand.
Without a word, she placed it in her palm, then closed Taehyungie’s trembling fingers around it. “It’s yours,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.
Taehyungie gasped, shaking her head quickly. “No… no, I can’t—” Yeona stopped her by tilting her head, her expression both gentle and firm. “You are my child, Tae. Won’t you accept a mother’s gift?”
The words sank into Taehyungie’s heart, unraveling another knot of pain she didn’t realize was still there. Her throat tightened as she looked at the bracelet, its golden glow reflected in the tears that welled in her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, and instead of protesting again, she threw her arms around Yeona.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. Yeona wrapped her close, her hand rubbing circles into her back. “No, my child. Thank you.” She pressed a kiss into Taehyungie’s hair, her heart swelling with a love she had longed to give. “Now come on,” she added, pulling away with a fond smile. “Let’s prepare you all for your departure.”
When they stepped back into the lounge, Jungkook’s head snapped up immediately. His sharp eyes caught their red-stricken faces, and panic overtook him. He was on his feet in an instant, rushing to Taehyungie.
“Mom? What happened?” he demanded, his hands cupping Taehyungie’s face as though checking for injuries. His touch was frantic, protective, his brows deeply furrowed. Yeona gave him a warning look, her tone brisk. “That’s none of your business.”
Jungkook blinked, thrown off. “What? Why not?”
Taehyungie, still laughing softly, tilted her head up at him. Her eyes glistened, but her smile was light. “Because,” she teased, her voice laced with gentle mischief, “it’s women's talk.”
The confusion on Jungkook’s face made Yeona chuckle.
The evening had stretched into something unforgettable, but as all good things do, it had to come to an end. The twins, though sleepy and sticky from chocolate, had one last burst of energy for their grandparents.
Taehyun leaned forward first, pressing a small peck onto Chairman Jeon’s cheek, leaving the faintest smudge of cookie behind. “Bye, grandpa,” he mumbled, his voice thick with drowsiness. Chairman Jeon chuckled, patting his little head. “Be good, young man.”
Taeri, barely awake, leaned out of Yeona’s arms to plant a clumsy kiss on her cheek. “Bye-bye, grandma,” she whispered, already yawning. Taehyungie stepped in, wrapping her arms around each of them in turn. Her hug with Yeona lingered longer, tighter, carrying an unspoken weight. Yeona’s hand cradled the back of her head as she murmured, “Stay safe, my child. Always.”
Taehyungie’s throat tightened. “I will.” From a few steps back, Jungkook watched them—his heart full, fuller than it had ever been. The sight of his children and Taehyungie surrounded by love was something he never imagined he’d be granted again. It made his chest ache in the best way.
He moved quickly, opening the car door for Taehyungie. Yeona, catching the gesture, raised her brows with playful mischief. “Oh? Look at you,” she teased, her tone half-proud, half-teasing.
Jungkook snorted lightly, rolling his eyes as his ears turned red. He didn’t dignify it with a reply, instead crouching down to buckle the twins into their seats. Taeri was already lost to the lull of sleep, her head lolling softly against the car seat, while Taehyun mumbled about cookies even as his eyes drooped shut.
Yeona and Chairman Jeon waved until the car pulled out of the estate gates. Taehyungie lifted her hand in return, her expression soft, warm, though she said nothing.
As the car sped down the quiet road, Jungkook reached across the small space between them, his fingers brushing hers. Slowly, he laced them together, then lifted her hand to his lips. His kiss was gentle, reverent. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. “For coming.”
Taehyungie’s lips curved, a soft smile playing on her face. She tilted her head slightly, her voice light but her words carrying more weight than she knew. “I would like kisses as compensation when we get home.”
Jungkook laughed, startled by her teasing, but the sound faded into something softer. His smile lingered, but it carried a tremor of realization.
Home.
She had called it a home. Their home. And for the first time in years, Jungkook believed it could truly be one.
--
Awwn such an emotional chapter😭 Does anyone know who the anonymous figure is?🤔
🤍🤍🤍
Chapter 39: Almost Perfect
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning was anything but calm. By 9:00 a.m., the Kim mansion had already summoned Taehyungie with urgency. Jinnie had called, her voice frazzled as she wailed about centerpieces and colors for her wedding. “Tae, I need you here now! I can’t do this alone!”
Taehyungie had chuckled softly at her panic until she heard Namjoon’s calm baritone in the background. “Anything works for me, babe.” The sound of Jinnie’s snort had echoed through the receiver, followed by her fiery retort: “It’s also my wedding, Joon!”
Taehyungie laughed so hard she nearly dropped the phone, already imagining the scene. Breakfast had been chaotic—spilled juice, flying toast, Jungkook stealing kisses across the counter when he thought the twins weren’t looking. By the time they were bundled into the luxury car, the house felt like it had been hit by a storm.
Taehyungie sat in the passenger seat, elegant yet effortlessly simple. She wore a pale cream blouse tucked into soft high-waisted slacks, her long hair falling loose around her shoulders. A thin gold bracelet glinted at her wrist—the very one Yeona had given her. Jungkook noticed it when she reached to buckle Taeri in, and something in his chest tightened at the sight.
Jungkook himself was dressed neatly in a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, paired with gray trousers. A watch gleamed on his wrist, understated yet sharp—him, in every sense.
The twins, meanwhile, were all color and life. Taehyun wore a striped blue t-shirt with tiny rockets printed across it, his shorts a little crooked from his stubborn refusal to let Jungkook fix them. Taeri was in a soft pink dress dotted with white flowers, her hair tied up in two playful pigtails, ribbons bouncing as she swung her legs.
From the backseat, their voices filled the car. “I miss Auntie Jinnie!” Taeri chirped, hugging her plush toy tightly. “And Uncle Joonie too,” Taehyun added quickly, “he makes the best airplane rides!”
“And Auntie Jiminie!” Taeri clapped her hands. “She said she will show me how to paint my nails!”
“And godmother Claire said she will give me cookies!” Taehyun’s eyes sparkled, already imagining it. Their chatter was rapid, their little hands pointing out the windows at tall buildings and colorful billboards as if they’d never seen them before. Jungkook’s lips curved as he glanced in the rearview mirror, drinking in the sight of their animated faces. His heart was a fragile thing in that moment, held carefully between their laughter and Taehyungie’s quiet presence beside him.
He had insisted earlier that morning, “You should go ahead with the kids. They’ll have fun, and honestly, I am not sure Namjoon will be elated.” His tone had been like a sigh, almost reluctant. But then Taehyungie had pouted—an actual pout, her lips pursed, her eyes stubborn. And Jungkook, hopelessly whipped, had caved without a fight. Which was why now, instead of hiding at his office, he was behind the wheel with his family.
Without thinking, he reached for Taehyungie’s hand, brushing his thumb gently over her soft skin. The gesture was casual, practiced even, but the warmth of it made Taehyungie’s breath hitch. Her lips twitched as if to hide a smile, the memory of the previous day still lingering in her chest like a secret flame.
Jungkook lifted her hand, his eyes never leaving the road, and pressed a delicate kiss to her knuckles. “Hmm,” he hummed softly, almost reverently. Her face turned crimson instantly. “Yah—” she whispered harshly, snatching her hand back, “the children are here.”
Jungkook only shrugged, a smirk tugging at his mouth, unbothered by her scolding. In the backseat, Taehyun and Taeri hadn’t even noticed, too busy pointing out a giant billboard with a cartoon tiger on it. “Daddy, look! Tiger!” Taehyun giggled, pressing his nose to the glass.
“Rawrrr!” Taeri added, making claws with her tiny fingers. Jungkook chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he sneaked another glance at Taehyungie—who sat pretending to glare at him, though her cheeks were still pink.
--
The mansion gates opened with practiced grace, the heavy iron parting as if bowing to their arrival. The luxury car hummed across the driveway, sleek and unhurried, before Jungkook guided it to a smooth stop before the grand entrance.
He was out in an instant, the click of the door sharp against the morning quiet. Rounding the car, he pulled open the passenger door with care, and Taehyungie stepped out, her movements fluid, almost ethereal. The light wind swept across the courtyard, brushing through her dark hair like a whisper, making the strands dance around her delicate face.
Jungkook’s eyes softened, unguarded, as he drank her in. He couldn’t help it—moments like this felt stolen, too beautiful for him alone. Before she could notice the way his chest had tightened, he turned quickly, pulling open the backseat doors.
“Come on, babies,” he said warmly, his large hands reaching for their little ones. He held onto Taehyun’s arm while helping Taeri down gently, her small shoes tapping against the stones.
Just then, the mansion doors flew open, and out barreled Jinnie. She was a vision of chaos in a sleek crop top and high-waisted pants, her hair tied messily as though she had run her hands through it one too many times. Her dramatic expression was nothing short of theater-worthy.
“Took you long enough!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Jungkook stifled a laugh, lowering his gaze as if to hide it, while keeping both children securely in hand. Taehyungie walked toward her with arms stretched wide, her laughter ringing through the driveway. “Sister-in-law!” she greeted brightly, the word warm, affectionate, full of teasing pride.
Jinnie huffed, crossing her arms. “I called on the verge of life and death, and this is the time you choose to come!?” Her tone was sharp, though her eyes glimmered with exaggeration. Before Taehyungie could respond, another high-pitched squeal broke the scene.
“Babieeeees!” Jiminie darted out of the doorway, practically skipping down the steps. The twins’ faces lit up instantly, and they broke from Jungkook’s hold, running toward her with wild excitement. Taeri launched herself into her arms first, with Taehyun close behind.
“Auntie!” Taeri giggled. “We missed you,” Taehyun chimed, wrapping his short arms around her neck. Jiminie stood upright with the twins clinging to her, laughter spilling from her lips. She turned, shaking her head. “She’s been like that since morning,” she said, nodding toward Jinnie with a knowing smirk. “Come on in.”
As her eyes lifted, they landed briefly on Jungkook. He stood a step behind Taehyungie, expression soft, almost reverent. Jiminie’s lips curved. She didn’t say a word, only smiled, then turned with the children bouncing in her arms, carrying them inside.
The air shifted. Jungkook, seizing the quiet moment, slipped his arm around Taehyungie’s waist, his palm resting lightly against her side. She stiffened at first, her body tingling under the weight of his touch—but then, unconsciously, she leaned into him, her shoulder brushing his chest.
It was a small, instinctive surrender. And it made Jungkook’s heartbeat stutter. From ahead, Jinnie glanced back, her sharp eyes catching the subtle closeness. She immediately gagged, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, PDA much?” she muttered, her nose scrunching. “And by the way, this is my wedding—not some gala red carpet!”
With a dramatic spin, she marched back inside, her words trailing like smoke. Jungkook let out a laugh, the sound low and husky, before guiding Taehyungie gently forward. His heart beat steady and sure beneath his ribs, even as his hand stayed firm at her waist, unwilling to let go. Together, they stepped into the mansion, into the chaos, into the warmth of family.
From the couch in the center of the vast living room, Claire spun around, her elegant frame poised even in the midst of scattered magazines—thick glossies featuring sprawling gardens, glass-roofed venues, and elite ballrooms across the country. Her eyes immediately lit up when they fell upon the small figures entering with bouncing energy. “Mon amour!” she exclaimed.
At the sound of her voice, the twins squealed and bolted across the polished floor, their little feet pattering against the marble. Taeri reached her first, flinging herself into her godmother’s lap with bubbling laughter, while Taehyun quickly clambered up beside them, wrapping his arms around her neck.
Claire’s laughter was soft, melodic. She showered their faces with kisses, her graceful hands cupping their cheeks. “Ah, my darlings,” she whispered, her eyes glistening as if her entire heart belonged to these two little souls. From the kitchen doorway, Namjoon appeared, tall and composed as ever, casually chewing on an apple. His eyes softened at the sight before him. The twins squeaked in delight again, leaving Claire for only a heartbeat to rush into his long arms.
“Uncle Joon!” Namjoon chuckled, balancing the apple between his fingers as he crouched down, embracing them both with ease. “You want play time already, huh?”
“Yes!” they chorused in unison, voices bright with demand. He ruffled their hair, promising them countless rounds of fun later, and watched as they dashed right back to Claire’s side, curling into her warmth like loyal little shadows. Jiminie, already seated gracefully on the couch, opened her arms, and Taeri climbed briefly into her lap before sliding back to Claire’s embrace. Jiminie laughed, shaking her head fondly.
The commotion was pierced by Jinnie’s dramatic voice as she entered. Her expression was pure tragedy. “Tae!” she cried, flopping onto the armchair. “The places! They’re just not it!” She moaned, her hand covering her forehead as if the weight of the world rested there.
Taehyungie stepped in with Jungkook just behind her. His arm was still wrapped securely around her waist, his thumb brushing against the silk of her blouse as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go.
Namjoon, standing with his apple, froze for a moment. His eyes immediately flicked to his sister, narrowing—not in anger, but in watchful protectiveness. He saw the way Jungkook held her, too natural, too tender, as though it was where he belonged. Then his gaze shifted to Taehyungie herself.
She was glowing. Her smile was soft, her cheeks tinted with life. She looked… happy. Namjoon’s chest eased slightly, though the protective older brother in him stood silently on guard. “Ma chérie.” Claire’s voice cut through the air again, reverent, full of affection. She rose from the couch with elegance, her flowing skirt whispering against the floor. The twins, already buzzing with restless joy, darted into the wide space of the living room, giggling.
Taehyungie’s eyes softened instantly as she stepped forward. A smile stretched across her lips, warm and genuine, and she moved into Claire’s open arms. The older woman kissed her cheeks delicately, hands firm on her shoulders. “You are glowing today,” Claire murmured, her accent wrapping each word in honey.
Taehyungie blushed faintly, ducking her head like a child caught in praise. Meanwhile, Jungkook, still hovering near, moved toward Namjoon. His voice was quiet but steady, lined with a respect that hadn’t been there years ago. “Hyung,” he greeted softly, bowing his head a little before extending a hand.
Namjoon hummed, the sound low. He patted Jungkook’s shoulder with a firmness that spoke of acknowledgment but not yet absolution. Jungkook accepted it without resistance, his gaze clear. “Ah!” Claire’s sharp gasp cut across the moment, and both men turned toward her. She had turned to Jungkook, her brows furrowed as she pointed a manicured finger at him.
“And you—how dare you not come meet me immediately?” she scolded, her words sharp though her tone rang with affection.
Jungkook laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as if caught by a stern teacher. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, folding himself into her embrace. Claire closed her eyes as she held him, her heart satisfied, her body still, but her spirit full. She stroked the back of his head lightly, her voice dropping to a murmur for his ears only. “You are doing well,” she whispered. “Taking care of my child… and those little angels. I see it.”
Jungkook’s throat tightened, and he held her closer for a brief second, the words sinking deep. When Claire finally pulled back, her eyes were tender. Jungkook bowed his head slightly, both in gratitude and in promise.
--
The lounge had erupted into soft chatter and laughter as Claire and the girls drifted away with arms full of glossy magazines, tablets, and brightly colored pamphlets. Their voices faded into the mansion, leaving the air outside quieter—only pierced by the clear, innocent squeals of Taehyun and Taeri playing on the custom playground Namjoon had built just for them.
The twins’ giggles rang out like bells as they chased each other down the slide, their small bodies full of life and light. Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile without him realizing, his chest tugging as he watched his children’s joy. He sat back on the cushioned canopy chair, legs slightly spread, his hands restless against his knees. Beside him, Namjoon reclined easily, long frame relaxed, but his gaze sharp as ever, fixed on the children too.
The silence stretched. Thick. Heavy. It could be cut with a knife.
Jungkook bit down on his lower lip, his mind swirling. Words had been pressing against his chest for years, yet now, sitting next to the man who had once been his best friend, his brother in all but blood, the weight of them nearly suffocated him. He dragged in a slow breath, then finally let it go.
“You know…” his voice cracked the silence, low and hoarse, “…I regret ever doing the dare.” Namjoon’s brow twitched, but he didn’t turn. Jungkook’s eyes stayed fixed on the distance, on the way Taeri helped Taehyun up when he stumbled, kissing his finger like the world’s smallest healer. His heart clenched.
“I… loved Taehyungie so much it hurt.” His voice was soft, almost trembling. “Our breakup—it was irrelevant. Stupid. Careless. But my heart, my mind, my soul… they always hummed for her. She was my center. My everything. And I threw it all away.” The memory burned through his chest. His hands fisted against his thighs.
“I accepted that dare… not only because I thought it was a way to get closer to her. It wasn’t. God, it wasn’t. But because of your protection.” His eyes flickered briefly to Namjoon’s profile, then dropped again. “My father never saw me as someone worth protecting. And you—your shield over Taehyungie—it stirred something in me. Not jealousy. Not envy. But… longing. I wanted that. I wanted someone to care for me like that.”
His voice wavered, bitter with self-disgust. “You were my best friend. My confidant. The one person I thought I could bare my soul to… and yet I still chose the most selfish path. I wanted to see if protection really mattered. And that drove me into making the biggest mistake of my life.”
His throat thickened. “And I hate myself for it.”
The twins’ laughter swirled between them, softening the brutal edges of his words. Jungkook blinked rapidly as he caught sight of Taeri brushing dirt off Taehyun’s knees with tiny hands. His lips trembled into a smile, wet and shaky.
“Along the line, I lost my heart. And I lost my best friend.” He finally turned his head, his eyes hollow yet pleading as they flicked toward Namjoon. “I was selfish. I didn’t care about your feelings. I didn’t care about hers. I just… wanted to feel ease. Even if it meant destroying everything.”
His voice thinned into a broken laugh, cracking like glass. “You hit me that night. Do you remember?” His gaze drifted back to the playground. “And it… satisfied me. Because even if I’d lost your friendship, even if I’d destroyed everything, my Taehyungie was still in safe hands. Your hands. The universe… it gave me another chance. Another path back into your lives.”
His voice faltered. A silence. “And I rejected it. Again.” Jungkook’s chest heaved with the weight of it, his laugh breaking into a wet, shaky sound that wasn’t laughter at all. “I hurt her once more. And that… that’s the wound I’ll never forgive myself for.”
He dropped his head into his hands, fingers tugging at his hair, his body shaking with the pressure of keeping his tears contained. The children’s laughter echoed, piercing the air with innocence so sharp it felt cruel against the confession hanging between the two men.
Namjoon remained still, his jaw flexing. His eyes didn’t leave the twins—yet his silence was heavy, deliberate, the kind that made Jungkook feel every ounce of his shame. He blinked rapidly, his vision blurring until the twins became little more than colors dancing on the playground. He sniffed harshly, chest trembling as his words cracked open like a wound too long ignored.
“Funny, isn’t it?” His voice wavered, fragile. “How I kept searching… needing to feel protected, when I was all along.” He choked, the sound breaking in his throat. “Taehyungie protected me. She showed me love beyond measure—love I didn’t deserve. And you. Hobi-hyung. Yoongi-hyung. You guys protected me, too. You were my brothers. My family. And I—” his breath hitched, shoulders shaking—“I failed to see it. I ignored it because I wanted it from the one man who’d never give it. From my father.”
His hands dug into his knees, knuckles white. “But I realized too late,” Jungkook whispered, the words spilling like blood. “I was foolish. I threw away the love that was already around me. I drove my Taehyungie away. I hurt her feelings. I broke her fragile heart.” His voice cracked, ragged with guilt. “I drove my friends away. I—I…”
His composure shattered. His head bowed low, his body curling forward as sobs tore from his chest, raw and unrestrained. “I’m so sorry, hyung,” he wept, voice breaking again and again. “So sorry. Please—please forgive me. Forgive your stupid friend. Forgive your stupid brother. Please—”
The plea dissolved into hiccuping sobs, his hands shielding his tear-streaked face as his body shook. The twins’ laughter still danced in the air, achingly bright against his broken cries.
Namjoon sat frozen, his jaw taut, his chest heaving silently. He’d told himself for years he hated Jungkook. That he’d never forgive him. That the punch he landed that night was the only answer deserved. But now—watching the man he once called his brother unravel before him, begging, sobbing, drowning in regret—something inside him cracked.
“Jungkook…” Namjoon’s voice was deep, low, torn with conflict. Jungkook flinched, raising his wet eyes. Namjoon’s gaze held him steady—sharp, protective, but no longer hateful. His fists clenched on his thighs as he leaned forward, voice gravelly with restrained emotion.
“Do you have any idea how many nights I wanted to kill you?” Namjoon’s words cut like steel. “How many times I looked at my sister’s tears and swore I’d never forgive you? You destroyed her, Jungkook. You destroyed yourself. And you destroyed us.”
Jungkook’s breath hitched, shame flooding deeper, his hands trembling as he held Namjoon’s gaze. Namjoon inhaled sharply, his jaw twitching. Then he shook his head slowly, looking away toward the twins, who were now holding hands, chasing each other through the garden like sunshine incarnate.
“But I can’t hate you,” he admitted, voice softer, heavy. “Because as much as I tried…you were my brother too. And seeing you like this—broken, begging—it doesn’t give me satisfaction. It hurts me. Because it means you finally understand.”
Jungkook’s tears fell harder, breath coming in sharp gasps, harsh and broken. Namjoon swallowed the lump in his throat. His eyes glistened, his voice low and soft, carrying the weight of years. “I was hurt when you did that,” Namjoon began, his tone trembling. “It broke me. I blamed myself… for failing to protect my sister.”
Jungkook shook his head violently, tears streaming, a desperate denial spilling from his lips. “No, hyung—don’t—don’t say that.” Namjoon pressed on, his own eyes swelling as he fought against the tears threatening to fall. “As much as I tried to resent you, I couldn’t. Because I still love you. Even after all these years.” His voice cracked, the raw truth trembling between them.
Jungkook’s head dropped, his shoulders shaking harder, but Namjoon’s gaze softened as memories surfaced.
“The day of Taeri’s gunshot,” Namjoon whispered, “I saw it. You stood your ground in the hospital. Even after I warned you with every glare I had, you stayed. You realized you were a father. And you were determined to protect your daughter.” His voice deepened, thick with emotion. “Your life changed in that one day, Jungkook. I saw how you carried responsibility like you’d been born to do it. How you swore to find whoever dared to hurt her. How your eyes showed no mercy for the one who caused it. And when you realized how dangerous it really was, you didn’t hesitate—you made fast arrangements to shelter them. Even when Taehyungie firmly disagreed, even when she didn’t want you back in her life, you still went ahead.”
Namjoon paused, breathing through the tremor in his chest. “You put your past aside… and focused on the future. And that, Jungkook—that was protection. That was sacrifice.” His lips quivered into a smile, a tear slipping free. “And that… made me proud.”
Jungkook’s breath stuttered, his head jerking up in disbelief, his face wet and broken.
Namjoon’s smile softened as his gaze slid toward the house, where the echo of Taehyungie’s laughter faintly carried, and then to the playground where the twins ran free. “I see Taehyungie’s heart now. I see her freedom. She’s lighter, happier, glowing beyond measure. She doesn’t look like a girl who had to hide her pain just to raise her kids. No. She looks angelic. And guess who made her look like that?”
Jungkook blinked, his lips trembling as he tried to breathe past the ache in his chest.
“You,” Namjoon said firmly, eyes shining. “You fought for her. You fought for your family when it looked like all hope was lost.” He nodded toward the children, their laughter piercing the heavy air. “You’ve carved yourself a place in their hearts, Jungkook. You’re their hero. Their protector. And that—” his voice wavered, breaking gently—“that is enough. So enough.”
The words shattered Jungkook. A sob ripped through him as his body folded, his hands covering his face while his tears fell harder, his cries raw and unguarded. His entire being trembled with the release of years of guilt and longing, and Namjoon, though silent, let his own tears fall too—two brothers, broken and healed in the same breath, sitting side by side while the sound of innocence rang out in the garden.
Namjoon stood, reached forward, and pulled him into a firm embrace. For a moment, Jungkook froze, then melted against him, clutching the back of his shirt with trembling hands, burying his face in Namjoon’s shoulder as if he was clinging to life itself.
“I forgave you long ago,” Namjoon murmured, his voice quivering, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. “I forgave you when I saw the weight of pain lifted off my sister’s shoulders. I forgave you when you were determined to fight for your family. I forgave you even before I knew I did.”
Jungkook’s sobs grew harder, his chest shaking against Namjoon as he held on desperately. Both men wept openly, releasing years of pain, regret, and buried emotions in each other’s arms. The silence between them was no longer sharp—it was healing, warm, and brotherly.
When at last their cries softened, they pulled apart, their faces red and blotchy, noses sniffly. Namjoon let out a small, watery laugh, brushing at his cheeks. “Now cheer up, you big baby!” he teased, his smile widening. “You’re a man, remember?”
Jungkook let out a shaky laugh of his own, sniffling as his nose turned an even brighter shade of red. The sound was almost boyish, and it made Namjoon’s heart ache in the softest way. Just then, Taeri’s high-pitched squeal carried across the garden. “Uncle Joonie! Daddy! Come play!” Her little arms waved dramatically from the top of the slide.
Namjoon chuckled, eyes glinting with affection. “Seems like our princess has summoned her servants.” He shot Jungkook a teasing grin. “Now come on. Smile. Do you even know how you look right now?” Jungkook nudged him with his elbow, playful despite the tears still drying on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, the weight of his gratitude heavy in those two words.
Namjoon’s smile softened, his voice firm but full of love. “You’re my brother, Jungkook. Always. Now let’s go before she throws a tantrum.”
Together, after wiping away the last of their tears, the two men stood and made their way toward the playground. The twins’ laughter rang like music in the air as Jungkook and Namjoon chased after them, catching them mid-squeal. Taeri shrieked with joy as Jungkook swung her around, while Taehyun clung to Namjoon’s arm, demanding to be carried. The garden wasn’t a place of wounds—it was a place of healing, laughter, and family.
--
The lounge was filled with laughter, the kind that bubbled from joy and comfort. Glossy magazines lay scattered across the table, event pamphlets spread out like a mosaic, while the glow of tablets lit up eager faces. The girls were deep into their mission—choosing wedding ideas—and the air hummed with animated chatter.
Jinnie was unusually picky, frowning as she flipped through yet another glossy page. “No, no, no,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Too small, too plain, too… basic.”
Jiminie groaned dramatically, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it straight at her shoulder. “Yah! What kind of wedding are you aiming for? The royal palace?” she whined, making Jinnie scowl while the others laughed.
Meanwhile, Taehyungie sat curled into the plush couch, absently flipping through one of the event pamphlets. Her fingers brushed over a photograph of a wedding hall draped in cascading flowers and golden light. Her breath caught, heart skipping in a rhythm she couldn’t control. She quickly looked away, cheeks tinged pink, but Claire—sharp-eyed as ever—noticed. Her lips curved in the faintest smile.
Suddenly, Jinnie gasped, nearly knocking the tablet out of her own hands. “I’ve got it!!” she squealed, voice high-pitched and excited. The others jumped at the sound, then immediately leaned in as she shoved the screen forward. On the tablet was an image of a vast wedding setup—arches drowning in pink florals, chandeliers dripping with crystals, soft, glowing lights illuminating a dreamy aisle.
The room erupted in squeals. “This is perfect!” Jiminie clapped her hands, bouncing like a child. Taehyungie couldn’t help but giggle, her eyes glistening as they reflected the dreamy setup. “It screams Jinnie,” she teased, the brightness of her gaze undeniable.
Jiminie laughed so hard she nearly tipped over. “Namjoon is going to think he got married in a Barbie dream house! But hey—he said everything goes for him!” Jinnie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin, cheeks flushed with excitement.
Before the laughter could die down, Claire’s elegant voice cut through, calm yet playful. “Oh, it will be fun styling your gown.”
The room froze.
Jinnie coughed into her fist, ears burning red. “Ugh—Claire, we… we already did the fitting,” she muttered sheepishly.
Taehyungie’s eyes widened. She winced just as the older woman gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. “What!?” Claire’s head whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t strain her neck. Her gaze zeroed in on Taehyungie, sharp and accusing. “How did you let her go to a wedding fitting when you were right here?!”
Taehyungie bit her lip, shrinking under the weight of that fiery stare. Her cheeks turned crimson, the heat crawling down her neck. Claire huffed, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t tell me your lover boy made you forget you are a fashion icon?”
The entire room went silent for a heartbeat—before Jinnie pointed accusingly, cackling. “She totally forgot! Jungkook keeps distracting.” “He does not keep doing it!” Taehyungie blurted out defensively, face burning.
But Jiminie cut in without missing a beat, grinning mischievously. “See? The way she said that? He does!”
Groaning, Taehyungie sank further into the expensive couch, covering her face with her hands as her ears glowed a deep shade of red. The other three women exchanged soft, knowing smiles. It wasn’t just amusement—it was fondness, relief. They were glad. Glad she wasn’t holding onto work like armor anymore. Glad she finally had someone to entertain her, to give her peace.
Claire leaned back, crossing her arms, but her eyes softened. “Cancel the fitting,” she declared firmly. “I’ll do it, along with my assistant.” Her gaze met Taehyungie’s, lingering. There was nostalgia there, a quiet understanding, a reminder of the bond they had forged. Taehyungie’s lips curved, her heart warming under the weight of that look.
Before the moment could settle, Jiminie—ever restless—slipped toward the curtains and peeked outside. Her sharp intake of breath cut through the air. “Come look!” she gasped, waving them over urgently.
The girls instantly scrambled, tablets forgotten, their curiosity ignited. The curtains swept aside in a rush of hands. The golden light of late morning spilled across the mansion gardens, painting everything in a soft, dreamy glow.
And there they were.
Jungkook and Namjoon, side by side, chasing after Taehyun and Taeri who shrieked with laughter as they darted across the green lawn. The twins’ tiny legs carried them as fast as they could, pigtails and loose hair bouncing, while Jungkook deliberately stumbled behind them with exaggerated clumsiness, making them giggle louder. Namjoon caught Taeri mid-squeal, tossing her lightly into the air before holding her close, his deep laugh carrying even through the glass.
“Got you, princess!” Namjoon boomed, twirling her as she clapped her hands, delighted.
Not far away, Jungkook had scooped Taehyun onto his shoulders, the boy’s small arms spread wide like wings as he shouted, “I’m flying, Daddy! Higher! Higher!” Jungkook’s laughter followed, boyish and bright, eyes crinkling as he jogged a few steps to make the ride more thrilling.
The sight was so tender it hushed the room. Even Jiminie, who had been grinning seconds ago, now softened, her hand unconsciously pressed over her heart. Jinnie covered her mouth, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Claire’s sharp eyes grew warmer, her expression melting with a kind of quiet approval.
And Taehyungie? Taehyungie’s breath caught in her throat. She clutched the curtain tighter, her lashes lowering as her eyes shone, a faint shimmer of tears gathering at the corners. Her lips trembled as she bit down on them, hard, trying to keep her emotions at bay.
Her children’s laughter rang out like bells, filling the space between her heartbeat and the ache that lived in her chest. Seeing them loved so openly, so freely—seeing Jungkook like this, with her brother beside him, not as enemies but as brothers again—made her heart twist and swell all at once.
For a fleeting moment, everything looked perfect. Like the world had finally realigned itself. She blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in her throat, but a single tear managed to slip free, sliding silently down her cheek.
Claire’s hand gently covered hers on the curtain, squeezing softly. No words were spoken, but Taehyungie didn’t need any—her mentor’s quiet support was enough. Her gaze lingered on the scene outside, unable to look away.
The father of her children.
The brother she adored.
Her little ones, their laughter brighter than the sun.
If this is a dream, she doesn't want to wake up.
--
🤍🤍🤍
Notes:
OHHHHH! HAPPY JUNGKOOK DAY!!! OH MY I'M SO EXCITED😭😭OUR BABY IS ALL GROWN UP. Wasn't he like 23 yesterday????? Gosh!! I don't want him to grow. More years ahead our baby bunny!🐰💜 Army love love loves you!!
And oh! Guys did you watch Tae's ig story? Man, he is whipped! If my future husband doesn't look at me like that i don't want him!
And his message for Jungkook. Today is his baby's day and we should solely focused on him. Ahhhhh! I'm so happy gosh.
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