78
Third Person Pov
Night had settled over the quiet neighborhood, the kind of silence Jungkook wasn't used to. He stood in the middle of his kitchen, arms crossed as he stared at the counter... at the groceries he bought simply because Taehyung had touched them.
Vegetables. Fruits. Meat.
Half of it he didn't even recognize.
He had already stocked the kitchen with every tool possible, he ordered them the moment he decided to live here. Sleek knives, stainless steel pots, air fryers, blenders, cutting boards of every size. It was a kitchen made for someone who knew what they were doing.
Jungkook did not.
He spent the last hour watching cooking videos, genuinely trying to understand. He followed the steps, memorized the angles, even tried to "saute" something and ended up burning it without fully understanding how.
Now the slab looked like a crime scene.
Broken eggs he never cooked. Half-cut vegetables. A pan that had somehow turned black.
He leaned against the counter, expression bored, chewing an apple... the only thing he knew how to "prepare."
The doorbell rang.
He didn't hurry. He finished his bite, walked to the door, and swung it open casually.
Mrs. Han, the landlady, stood outside with a warm, motherly smile.
"Jungkook, dear, may I come in?"
He stared at her for a few seconds, eyes scanning her face, posture, how she breathed... as if assessing her. Analysing her. Finally, he gave a single small nod.
She stepped inside and immediately looked around, impressed at first... until her gaze landed on the kitchen.
Her jaw dropped.
"Oh my... what happened in here?"
Jungkook looked at the apple in his hand as if it had the answer, then back at her with a blank face.
"I tried doing kitchen stuff."
Mrs. Han pressed a hand to her chest like she was witnessing a supernatural event. "Oh, sweetheart."
She walked straight into the kitchen, sleeves already rolling up.
"I'll help you clean. I wasn't doing anything anyway. I just came to check if you were adjusting well in the new place."
Jungkook raised one brow, following her slowly.
"Why are you helping me, Mrs. Han?"
She blinked at him, amused.
"Because that's what humans do... we help each other."
Jungkook stared as if she'd recited a foreign concept.
"Do you want money?" he asked.
Mrs. Han whipped around, offended but still soft. "Do you give money to people who try to help you?"
He took a deep breath, thinking. "I do."
She shook her head vigorously.
"Well, I don't need money from you. Just give me your hands... chop these vegetables."
She held out a knife, and Jungkook took it silently.
He began chopping. It came naturally. Too naturally.
His cuts were clean, efficient, flawlessly sharp. He'd spent years slicing the throats of men twice his size, cutting tongues, severing fingers, gouging eyes. Chopping vegetables was almost... comically simple.
Mrs. Han didn't know that, of course.
She clapped her hands once.
"Oh! You're good at this."
Jungkook didn't respond. He didn't need to.
As she washed cabbage and sorted the groceries, she talked like they were old friends.
"You need to learn cooking properly," she said. "You're getting older. Eventually, you'll get married, move in with someone... and what if your wife doesn't know how to cook? You'll starve."
Jungkook's knife paused mid-cut.
Wife.
He resumed chopping quietly, but his thoughts drifted straight to Taehyung the only person he had ever imagined in any part of his life.
Taehyung in an apron, Gyubin talkinh beside him.
Taehyung stirring something on the stove with his soft hair falling forward.
Taehyung leaning over the counter to taste the soup.
Taehyung humming while he cooked always humming.
Taehyung was good at cooking.
Very good.
Jungkook inhaled once, slow and steady, and continued chopping, his expression sharp.
Mrs. Han smiled as she organized the vegetables he cut.
"See? You'll make a great husband one day."
Jungkook didn't answer.
He wasn't planning to be a husband to anyone else. He didn't want a wife.
He wanted him.
She rinsed the rice with quick, practiced movements. Jungkook stood beside her, silently observing the way she worked. When she handed him the cooker pot, he poured the rice in and clicked the lid shut.
"It'll take about ten minutes," she said.
Jungkook nodded, leaning against the counter.
She reached for the eggs next, cracking one cleanly with a single hand. Jungkook grabbed an egg too, tapping it gently and then splitting it open with almost exaggerated caution.
She snorted. "How did you survive your entire life without knowing how to cook?"
His lips curled slightly. If only she knew he'd never had to lift a finger.
"Takeouts," he said.
She shook her head, mixing the batter. "That's not healthy."
Jungkook hummed. "Maybe I should learn properly... for my wife."
He kept his tone casual, not wanting to elaborate.
She didn't question it. Just hummed softly.
They worked side by side in a comfortable silence for a while-the faint sounds of rice cooking and eggs whisking filling the kitchen.
Then she glanced at him. "Have you really never dated anyone?"
Jungkook shook his head.
She let out a quiet laugh. "Men like you... are rare."
Jungkook didn't respond, but his jaw flexed, just slightly.
They finished cooking bit by bit, the kitchen filled with the soft crackle of the stove and the rhythmic clink of utensils. When everything was done, Mrs. Han served the meal with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a lifetime feeding others.
Jungkook picked up the warm bowl she handed him-steamed rice drenched in broth, an egg roll placed neatly on top.
"You should have some too," he said, glancing up at her.
She waved her hand. "Ah, no. I already had my dinner. This is for you."
Jungkook took a slow bite, expecting nothing special... yet the flavors wrapped around his tongue, simple but comforting. A warmth he was unfamiliar with.
"This is... good," he admitted, his voice blank but his eyes not.
Mrs. Han smiled as she slipped her shoes back on. "Food tastes better when you put a little heart into it."
He hummed, then said, "Thank you. For helping me."
She paused at the doorway and turned, eyes softer than before.
"Jungkook," she said gently, "money can buy you convenience... but not a real connection."
He stilled.
"And certainly not emotions," she finished. "Don't forget that."
The words hit harder than he expected. He didn't even know what to respond with-he just stared at her.
Mrs. Han gave him one last kind nod, then stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
Jungkook lowered himself onto the couch, the house suddenly too quiet. He ate the rice slowly, staring at nothing, that unfamiliar warmth in his chest clashing with something colder.
☆☆☆☆☆
After eating and doing the dishes, Jungkook stepped out into the small yard. A cigarette burned between his fingers as he walked slowly across the patch of grass. Compared to his mansion, this yard was barely a few steps long... but he didn't care. He could adjust.
His eyes drifted to the house beside his... Taehyung's house. The lights were off. The door closed. Silence.
Jungkook leaned against the wall, smoking quietly, eyes fixed on that door like it owed him an explanation.
A few minutes passed.
Then the door opened.
Jungkook's gaze stilled instantly.
Taehyung stepped out wearing a loose cardigan, Gyuri crying softly in his arms. Her face was red, scrunched up, tears clinging to her lashes. Gyubin was already asleep inside; Gyuri cried for no reason sometimes, and Taehyung thought she might need some fresh air.
But the moment he saw Jungkook standing there....dark eyes, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling around him-Taehyung froze.
That gaze always made his throat tighten.
Taehyung looked away quickly, bouncing Gyuri against his chest and stepping into the yard.
Gyuri kicked and wriggled, tiny hands gripping his shirt before she suddenly bit his shoulder with her gums. Hard. Her nails sinking in his skin.
Taehyung winced. "What happened, sweetheart...?" he whispered, rubbing her back.
Gyuri tossed her pacifier on the ground... again.
"That's the fourth one..." Taehyung muttered under his breath.
Jungkook watched. Silent. Too silent.
Then he flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under his shoes, and walked out of his gate.
Straight toward Taehyung.
He didn't ask permission.
He opened Taehyung's iron gate and stepped inside like it belonged to him.
Taehyung stiffened and instinctively stepped back, ready to retreat indoors, but Jungkook's hand wrapped around his arm-firm enough to stop him, gentle enough not to scare him.
Taehyung turned sharply. "W-what?"
Jungkook's hand came forward, palm open.
"Give her to me."
His voice was cold... but the undercurrent was soft. Dangerous soft.
Taehyung frowned. "No."
But Gyuri's tear-wet eyes locked onto Jungkook. Her tiny arms reached towards him. Betrayal. Taehyung hesitated, clenched his teeth and let her go.
Jungkook lifted her smoothly... no awkwardness, no hesitation and Gyuri collapsed against him, still crying but softer, hiccuping against his chest.
Taehyung crossed his arms, annoyed, ready to say I told you she won't...
And then Jungkook did it.
A clean, sharp snap of his fingers right beside Gyuri's ear. Precise. Not loud... just crisp enough to slice straight through her cry.
Gyuri froze like her little body forgot what crying was. Her breath hiccuped.
Her fists unclenched.
She blinked up at Jungkook.
And went completely silent.
Taehyung's jaw dropped a little.
"What-"
Jungkook didn't even look at him.
He just adjusted Gyuri on his arm, letting her rest her cheek on his shoulder like she'd always belonged there.
Her tiny hand curled into his shirt.
And Taehyung... hated how easily Jungkook stole her calm.
Hated how natural he looked holding something so small and fragile.
Jungkook finally lifted his eyes, voice low, lips curled slightly.
"She was stuck in a crying loop." A faint tilt of his head. "You break it... she resets."
As if it was nothing.
As if he didn't just make the babygirl go quiet with a single snap of his fingers.
"How..." Taehyung hesitated, eyes flicking between Jungkook and the now-silent baby. "How did you know that would work?"
Jungkook glanced at him as he stepped closer.
Taehyung immediately stepped back, gaze darting away.
Jungkook exhaled softly, almost like he expected that reaction.
"Kids are easy to distract," he said. "They just need a reason to pause."
Taehyung hummed, though the confusion didn't leave his face.
Gyuri cooed, her tiny fingers now tugging at Jungkook's shirt collar. She poked at the side of his neck curiously.
"Mmpaa..." she babbled, eyes wide.
Jungkook stared at her, and something unguarded softened in his eyes something tender, unplanned.
Taehyung couldn't look away.
"Pa..." Gyuri said again, tilting her head, her voice sweet and small.
Jungkook's lips curled into a faint smile, barely there, but real. His arm tightened a little around her, protective without thinking.
Gyuri giggled at his expression, tiny shoulders shaking.
And Jungkook... smiled wider.
Taehyung's breath caught.
He found himself staring; his heartbeat picked up, thudding harder than it should. There was something unsettling yet hypnotic about seeing Jungkook soften like that.
His fingers curled into the fabric of his cardigan as heat rose up his throat, and he forced himself to look away, mortified by how flustered he suddenly felt.
When Jungkook looked up, Taehyung still didn't meet his eyes.
"She's fine now," Jungkook murmured, stepping forward to return Gyuri to him.
But the moment he tried, Gyuri whined and tightened her little fists around his shirt, refusing to let go.
"Pa-" she pleaded, leaning her face into his shoulder.
Taehyung's lips pressed together as he sighed softly. Something inside him softened just a little, though he still didn't lift his gaze fully.
"It's alright," he said quietly. "You can hold her for a while longer."
Jungkook blinked in surprise, then nodded once, adjusting Gyuri with care.
She immediately wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, her cheek pressing into the warm curve of his shoulder as she made another soft cooing sound. Her breathing steadied against him, little fingers brushing the back of his neck as she settled like she'd finally found what she wanted.
Jungkook looked at Taehyung.
Not the usual glance he threw at people he tolerated...this was the kind that settled on skin, on breath, on bone.
A stare he had no right giving Taehyung after everything.
And Taehyung... for the first time in too long... didn't turn away.
It felt unreal.
The man whose hands once held guns steadier than promises
was now holding a child like she was the safest thing he'd ever touched.
The man who locked himself inside an office built of dark walls and darker choices
was standing in Taehyung's small yard, wind brushing through his hair like he belonged there.
The man who lived in expensive fabrics and sharp collars
wore a simple white shirt tonight nothing special yet somehow looked more breathtaking than any memory Taehyung had forced himself to forget.
And the look on Jungkook's face...
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't guilt. It was something terrifyingly gentle, devastatingly honest
the exact look Taehyung once dreamed his partner would have for him.
Taehyung's breath stuttered. He swallowed, his voice barely steady.
"Stop... pretending like you belong in my life."
The night stilled.
Even Gyuri stopped making tiny sounds, watching them with wide, quiet eyes.
The air felt heavy, charged... like a storm deciding whether to break.
Jungkook stepped closer, slow enough to make Taehyung's heart claw at his ribs.
"Then let me in," Jungkook murmured, voice low, almost sinful.
"And I'll stop pretending."
Taehyung's chest tightened painfully.
"I don't want you in my life," he said, every syllable scraped out of him like it cost blood.
Jungkook's lips curved, not mocking, not cruel but with that dangerous amusement that always meant he'd already won.
"Then I'll keep pretending," he replied softly. "As long as it takes."
Taehyung's jaw locked. He hated how Jungkook could twist words into something that wrapped around his throat. No one ever won against Jungkook-not in a conversation, not in silence, and definitely not in matters of the heart.
"How long are you planning to stay?" Taehyung asked, words forced through clenched teeth.
Jungkook pretended to think, shifting Gyiri slightly. The baby blinked up at him, then at Taehyung, as if she understood every unspoken tension burning between them.
"I'm enjoying it here," Jungkook said, tone calm, almost lazy but his eyes never left Taehyung's.
"I'm not planning to leave anytime soon."
He stepped closer again. Close enough that Taehyung could feel his warmth through the night air.
"Well... not until you decide," Jungkook added, voice dropping, softer and deeper, a tone meant only for Taehyung.
A tone that made Taehyung's pulse trip over itself.
Taehyung let out a shaky exhale, looking away because Jungkook's gaze felt like hands... warm, unwelcome, and achingly familiar.
And Jungkook...
Jungkook watched him, his lips curled into a smirk that said he knew exactly what he was doing to him.
Taehyung didn't say anything further.
He couldn't. His throat felt tight, full of too many things he didn't dare speak.
Gyuri had fallen asleep in Jungkook's arms, her tiny breaths brushing against his chest. Taehyung's eyes softened the moment they landed on her... peaceful, warm, unaware of the storm between the adults around her.
Jungkook followed Taehyung's gaze, looking down at the little face nestled against him. Her lashes fluttered against chubby cheeks, lips pushed into a sleepy pout, her fists curled in the fabric of his shirt.
It didn't feel real. Holding her.
Feeling her heartbeat against him.
"She's... beautiful, isn't she?" Jungkook said.
Taehyung didn't trust his voice, so he only hummed, barely audible, but full of a softness he couldn't hide.
For a moment, neither of them looked at each other. It was just Gyuri.... breathing slow, sleeping safe.
Then Jungkook stepped closer, shifting her gently before lifting his arms toward Taehyung.
Taehyung hesitated only a second before taking her. Their hands brushed.
Warm skin against warm skin.
A brief, unintentional touch
yet it was enough to send heat curling low in Taehyung's stomach, enough to make his breath catch for a second.
He kept his eyes casted down.
And then turned around, holding Gyuri close to his chest as he walked toward the door.
He pushed it open, stepped inside...
and closed it between them without a word. The soft click of the door echoed louder than any argument they'd ever had.
Jungkook stared at it... the wooden barrier, the rejection, the silence.
His jaw flexed, but his expression didn't shift.
His hands slid into his pockets, shoulders stiff for a moment before he exhaled slow, long, tired.
He dragged a hand through his hair, looking at the closed door one last time, something intense flickering in his eyes.
Then he stepped back, leaving Taehyung's porch, the iron gate clinking shut behind him as he walked toward his own house.
Alone again. Except this time...
it didn't feel the same kind of lonely.
.
.
.
Morning crept into the room slowly, slipping through the curtains in thin, pale streaks.
Taehyung blinked up at the ceiling for a moment, still caught between sleep and waking, before pushing himself up and dragging a hand through his hair.
His body felt warm, heavy, comfortable until his eyes landed on the window.
He reached out and tugged the curtain aside.
And every trace of sleep vanished from him.
There, just a few feet away, separated only by a narrow strip of grass and a low iron gate... was Jungkook. Kneeling in the yard. Touching dirt. Wearing rolled-up sleeves and simple cotton pants.
For a moment, Taehyung simply stared, unsure if his sleepy brain was hallucinating.
Jungkook was gardening.
Actual gardening.
And he didn't look like he belonged there at all, which somehow made the scene even more arresting.
Because well he was sculpted for darker places.
... for power, for control, for rooms where one word from him could tilt a man's life off-balance.
But now he was pressing the heel of his palm into the soil, digging a neat hollow, setting a fragile peony plant inside it like it was something precious.
A row of peonies still wrapped in market plastic lay by his knee. Far too many for such a small space. He must have gone out early... earlier than Taehyung even woke up to buy them.
Why...
Taehyung couldn't make sense of it.
Jungkook's hair fell into his eyes every few seconds. He pushed it back with a flick of his wrist, only for it to fall again. His jaw was set with focus, lips pressed together, shadows under his eyes hinting he probably hadn't slept much.
Well, he wasn't habitual of sleeping on such stiff beds, room without air conditioners, small confined place. So he just didn't sleep.
He wasn't graceful at this task.
He wasn't skilled.
But he was trying.
And that was what made Taehyung's throat tighten unintentionally.
Jungkook lifted the watering can, testing its weight, then poured carefully over the freshly planted row. Some water spilled onto his shoes but he didn't seem to notice. The morning breeze ruffled his hair.
Everything about him looked wrong in this scene because this was something
That needed patience.
That required staying and dedication.
Taehyung's chest tightened.
He pulled the curtain shut a little too quickly, his heart beating faster than a morning should allow. He leaned back from the window, pressing his palm to his forehead as if that would erase the image burned there.
He couldn't look at Jungkook like this.
Not when the man looked... almost gentle. Not when it felt too close to the kind of life Taehyung used to dream of.
He exhaled shakily and turned away, forcing himself to focus on the day ahead.
Gyubin was still curled up in bed, clutching his blanket in a fist. Taehyung sat beside him and brushed his fingers on his forehead.
"Good morning, baby," he whispered, voice soft in a way only his children ever heard. "Wake up... school time."
Gyubin whined and rolled onto his back, pouting.
Taehyung smiled faintly but his mind was somewhere else.
Still outside. Still with Jungkook.
Still seeing dirt on those sharp hands, water dripping from the can, a man who didn't fit into small domestic moments forcing himself to fit anyway.
As if he wanted to match Taehyung's world.
As if he was determined to stay in it.
Taehyung swallowed, pushing away the thoughts, and scooped Gyubin into his arms.
"Come on," he murmured. "Let's get you ready."
Behind the closed curtain, flowers were being planted one by one.
And Jeon Jungkook kept kneeling there quiet, steady, planting something much heavier than peonies into the morning air.
.
.
.
Gyubin was dressed neatly in his little uniform, a cap placed on his head.
"Appa, I'll go meet Heolmoni," he announced, already slipping into his tiny shoes.
Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment, busy preparing Gyuri's milk. Gyubin leaned toward his baby sister, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Gyuri blinked up at him with big sleepy eyes, and he giggled.
Then he hurried out the front door, pushing against the iron gate with his small hands.
He crossed the couple of steps to the landlady's house and knocked.... his knuckles barely reaching the wood. He was still too short for the doorbell, so he just kept knocking until it opened.
"Aigo, my boy!" the landlady exclaimed fondly. "So early?"
"Heolmoni... where is Jiwoo?" Gyubin asked immediately, eyes wide and hopeful.
She chuckled, moving aside to let him in. "He's in his room getting ready. He'll come out for breakfast in a minute."
Gyubin nodded and waited near the couch, fidgeting shyly.
Moments later, Jiwoo appeared-walking slowly with the help of his forearm crutches, moving with practiced balance. Gyubin's eyes softened the moment he saw him. Jiwoo blinked, then smiled gently.
"Gyubin? What are you doing here so early?" he asked, voice warm despite the surprise.
Gyubin shuffled a step closer. "I... I just came to see you," he mumbled, cheeks pink.
Jiwoo sat carefully on the couch, adjusting his crutches beside him. "I have school in an hour," he said. "My bus will come soon."
Gyubin hummed, nodding, even though he knew that already. They began talking about random small things... homework, Gyuri's new habit of chewing her toys and cartoons.
In the kitchen, Heolmoni's voice floated out.
"Jiwoo-ah!"
Jiwoo straightened a little. "Yes?"
"Take this to our new neighbor," she said, coming out with a neatly packed breakfast box. "He must not have eaten anything."
She clearly meant Jungkook.
Jiwoo was about to stand, but Gyubin quickly stepped forward.
"I'll do it, Heolmoni," he said, reaching for the box before she could protest.
Jiwoo blinked, amused. "You're really helpful today."
Gyubin looked at him for a long moment longer than necessary and Jiwoo tilted his head in confusion.
Gyubin finally smiled, small but earnest. "I'll come back," he whispered.
Jiwoo smiled back and lifted his hand in a tiny wave.
The landlady placed a gentle hand on Gyubin's head. "Do you know where his house is?"
"Yes," Gyubin said proudly. "Right beside ours."
"Good boy. Go on."
He nodded, clutching the box carefully as he stepped out of the house. He glanced at Jiwoo one last time. Jiwoo waved again, still smiling softly.
Gyubin pushed open the iron gate with both hands, careful not to drop the breakfast box. The moment he stepped inside, his steps slowed. His eyes drifted to the neatly planted line of peonies bright, gentle blooms swaying lightly in the morning air.
"Appa would love these..." he whispered, unable to look away. His eyes shone with that childlike awe he could never hide when he saw something beautiful. He crouched a little, sniffing one of the flowers as if smelling it would somehow help him remember it for later.
He didn't know who the new tenant was. He only thought, I'll tell Appa about these.
After staring for a long, fascinated moment, he straightened up and walked toward the door, the box clutched tightly in both hands.
His small knuckles knocked hesitantly...
three soft taps. Meeting new people always made him shy; his shoulders instinctively curled, and he stared at his shoes while waiting.
Inside, Jungkook, freshly showered, hair still damp, sleeves rolled up... paused mid-sentence on a call with his secretary.
"One moment," he muttered, already walking toward the door.
The knob turned.
Gyubin lifted his head. And froze. The world seemed to stop spinning.
Standing in the doorway was the face he never expected to see again.... not this casually in a white shirt with sunlight hitting his cheekbones.
Jeon Jungkook.
The 8-year-old's breath caught painfully in his chest. His eyes widened... then trembled. His throat tightened so much he couldn't speak at first.
Jungkook's expression softened instantly. He hung up the call mid-sentence.
"Gyubin..." he breathed, the name falling from his lips like a sigh.
Gyubin's eyes welled, vision blurring. His grip on the breakfast box loosened. His shoulders shook once.. then again before he managed a tiny, trembling voice:
"Mr. Jeon..."
His lower lip wobbled violently.
All the strength he tried so hard to act like he had...
it collapsed the moment he saw Jungkook.... the man who had always protected them like a silent shield.
Jungkook stepped forward slowly and lowered himself to the boy's height, kneeling right in front of him.
"Come here," he said, voice gentler than Gyubin had ever heard.
Gyubin blinked hard, tears spilling over. He set the box on the ground with shaky hands, staring at Jungkook as if asking silently if he was real.
Jungkook opened his arms.
That was all it took.
Gyubin threw himself forward, small arms wrapping tightly around Jungkook's neck, burying his face into his shoulder.
A fragile, broken sniffle escaped him... then another... and then the dam burst.
Jungkook's lips curved into the softest smile as he wrapped his arms around the small boy, one palm smoothing over his back, the other supporting his weight effortlessly.
"How are you, my little man?" Jungkook murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
Gyubin shook his head against him, fingers gripping Jungkook's shirt with all his tiny strength.
"I-I'm... f-fine," he tried to say, but his voice cracked.
"I... I missed you so much..."
Jungkook exhaled, his own chest tightening.
Gyubin sniffled again, wiping his face on Jungkook's shirt like a helpless child.
"But I... I knew you'd come..." the boy whispered, voice trembling.
"Because you always come... for us."
For Appa.
For me.
Jungkook swallowed hard, brushing the boy's head with gentle fingertips, adjusting the little cap that had slipped crooked from the force of the hug.
"Of course I came," Jungkook whispered, pulling him closer.
"Where else would I go, yeah?"
Gyubin clung tighter, the rawness of a child's love trembling in every breath he took.
"Appa also waited for you..." Gyubin mumbled into Jungkook's shoulder, still clinging to him as if letting go would make him disappear again.
Jungkook's brow lifted slightly.
Gyubin sniffled, voice trembling as he spoke.
"I saw him... quietly crying one night. He was saying your name, but when I asked, he wiped his face really fast and said there was dust." His little fingers tightened on Jungkook's shirt. "Appa's really good at hiding his tears..."
Jungkook stilled. Taehyung cried? For him? Whispered his name?
Gyubin's voice grew even smaller.
"We missed you a lot. P-Please don't leave us again..." He hugged Jungkook even tighter, as if his arms could anchor the man in place.
Jungkook let out a slow breath and placed a steady hand on the boy's back, grounding him.
"I won't," he said quietly, but firmly.
Gyubin hummed, a soft, relieved sound, and slowly loosened his hold. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and slipped his small fingers into Jungkook's larger ones.
"Come... Appa will be really happy to see you."
Jungkook gave his head a small shake and gently stopped him.
"He is mad at me," he said with a faint smirk. "If I show up right now, he'll just get even more mad. Better I don't walk into a storm."
Gyubin blinked at him, thinking seriously for a moment, then nodded like a tiny adult accepting harsh reality.
"Oh... that's true," he whispered.
He bent down, picked up the box he had brought, and held it out shyly with both hands.
"Halmeoni made this for you."
Jungkook took the box, his expression softening.
"Tell her thank you from my side."
Gyubin nodded, proud to be trusted with the message.
Jungkook pushed himself up to his full height. Gyubin tilted his head all the way back to look up at him.... the admiration clear in his eyes.
"I'll come again," Gyubin said in a hushed voice, like he was sharing a secret. "Sneakily... so Appa doesn't get mad."
Jungkook hummed amused. "All right."
Gyubin gave a small wave, shy but warm and Jungkook responded with a single nod, one hand slipping into his pocket as he watched him go.
He didn't look away. Not once.
He kept his eyes on the small figure until Gyubin disappeared inside the house.
.
.
Taehyung looked up the moment Gyubin stepped inside. The boy's steps were lighter than usual, almost bouncy, his face brighter.... too bright for an ordinary morning.
Taehyung raised a brow as he closed the small lunch box he had just finished packing.
"You seem happy," he said, slipping the box into Gyubin's school bag.
"I am," Gyubin replied quickly, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
Taehyung paused, studying him. Gyubin's smile was a touch too wide... his eyes a little too shiny. Something had lit him up from the inside.
But Taehyung shook his head lightly and chose not to pry.
Children were easy to make happy-sometimes a cartoon, sometimes a cookie, sometimes... who knew. He let the moment pass with a small, fond smile.
Gyuri was lying on the blanket beside them, drinking from her milk bottle, tiny feet kicking lazily. Daisy, the kitten, pounced around a toy mouse nearby, her little bell ringing.
But Gyubin... Gyubin kept stealing glances at the door he had just walked through, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, a smile tugging at his lips like he was trying hard not to grin.
Taehyung didn't know what caused it, but it softened something in him.
He might not have accepted Jungkook back into his life...
But his children?
They had accepted Jungkook without hesitation.Wholeheartedly. Quietly.
And that truth was beginning to settle in the room, warm and heavy... whether Taehyung was ready to see it or not.