Chapter Text
“Come on! Harder!”
Drops of sweat trickled down from your forehead and temples and, well, everywhere else on your body. You made a mental note to buy a sports headband for next time as you quickly wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your forearm before you repeatedly performed two quick jabs and a hook, just like you had for the last two minutes.
“Put your weight into it!” Your trainer, Lee Song-Hun, didn’t yield a centimetre from where he held up the punch mitts, something you had managed to make him do earlier that hour. “And stay light on your feet! There’s still a minute left!”
Without responding, you struck the punch mitts with as much force as you could muster. Song-Hun was grinning when he concluded training for the day, but a look of concern quickly overtook his relatively good-looking features when you remained quiet.
“You seem unfocused,” he said as he removed the punch mitts. “Something on your mind?”
You took off your boxing gloves and hand wraps, wiped as much of your sweat as you could with the small towel you had brought and emptied your water bottle before even thinking of an answer. This was the best thing about boxing, or exercise in general. You didn’t have to think about anything but your physical performance, which in turn was hard enough to distract you. But Song-Hun was right, your mind was a bit scattered.
How could it not be?
“It’s nothing,” you replied, a lie so obvious even your trainer, who you had met a total of five times, seemed unconvinced.
“Alright,” he said gingerly before he smiled. “You’ve improved drastically since your first time, (Y/N). I can’t believe you’ve got no boxing experience from the past. You’re a natural.”
“Thank you,” you said, feeling both self-conscious and proud.
Song-Hun appeared like he wanted to say something more on the topic about your absent-mindedness, but then led you to the stretching area of the gym where you two went through different patterns of stretching. You were sore all the way to your bones, but that only made the shower afterward so much more divine. Yet despite the relief that filled your body, your mind was anything but at ease as you finished dressing and stepped out into the humid August heat that enveloped Seoul like a blanket.
A black BMW was parked by the curb on the other side of the road. You approached the car when Jong-Yeol exited on the driver’s side, helping you with your heavy duffel bag. After murmuring a thanks, you entered the car. The inside was cool and you briefly regretted wearing nothing but shorts and a blouse.
“Straight home?” asked Jong-Yeol when he settled behind the steering wheel. Dressed as always in a suit, his dark eyes were worried as they found yours through the rearview mirror.
You briefly wondered just how obvious your anxiousness was, and hastily wound your hands together in an attempt to not scratch up your arm. “Yes.”
The car purred to life as Jong-Yeol steered it out of the pocket and onto the road. “You can do it,” he said.
“I know,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I know I can. It’s just…”
“He’ll be there with you, won’t he? In fact, aren’t both of them going to be there?”
“They are,” you said with a nod. “But…”
“But?”
You swallowed. You hadn’t told Jong-Yeol the truth: that Jung-Hyun didn’t know about you and Jungkook reconciling. On several occasions, you had tried calling Jung-Hyun in an attempt to meet up with him, but ever since you had rushed to his hotel room almost a month ago after you and Jungkook had reunited, you had been unable to actually talk to him. Truth is, you were too scared. But not because you were afraid of breaking up the engagement or tell Jung-Hyun about your feelings toward Jungkook.
It was because the scene you had been met with that day had frightened you to your very core.
“Nothing.” You leaned your elbow onto the inside of the car door and gazed out at the passing cityscape. Your heart was beating faster at the recollection, but you tried your best to ignore it. “It’s nothing.”
“As you say.”
It took about twenty-five minutes to reach the hotel that your parents had bought their penthouse apartment from. There were plenty of workout facilities there, like a pool and two floors of gym equipment, but you preferred boxing over regular exercise, a class you had began after Se-Eun had finally coaxed you into the idea three weeks ago. According to her, you needed to find a way to let out steam that didn’t involve breaking pens or being tempted to punch people or things with your bare fists. Of course, you had protested in the beginning, saying you had nowhere near a violent disposition, but when you thought back on the year and everything you had gone through, you realized you really needed some kind of stress reliever. Something that didn’t involve words and something that really would let you release your pent-up emotions. And although you had only gone a handful of times, your arm was already looking better, since you didn’t scratch it nearly as often as you usually did.
But today was the day you were supposed to tell Jungkook’s parents about your and Jung-Hyun’s broken engagement - and that you were going back to being Jungkook’s fiancé.
It was happening over family dinner at your parents’ apartment in celebration of Jungkook’s father and your father both succeeding with the goal of their numerous, lengthy business trips to Japan during spring. Your father had managed to draw up contracts with almost all of the businesses he had wanted to cooperate with for Phoenix Inc.’s upcoming expansion, and Jungkook’s father had managed to find investors for the company he was starting up. You didn’t know much about the latter, but you knew your father had worked himself tirelessly throughout the spring months - he had even gotten a heart attack. His health was much better now thanks to your mother, but you were still deeply worried. He ate and exercised well, but you of all people knew just how exhausting stress could be.
While resurrecting Jungkook’s memories after his amnesia incident, you had been on the border of having several heart attacks yourself. And not entirely because of the stress.
For it wasn’t until you found out that Jungkook had cheated on you with Park Yi-Jae, one of South Korea’s hottest female artists, that you came to understand more about your feelings toward Jungkook. It had been difficult to deal with, partly because you didn’t really know what your rapidly beating heart meant, but mostly because it had been so wrong. You were no longer haunted by the short exchange you had seen between Jungkook and Yi-Jae when you first stumbled upon them, but you had been at the time. You had been a hundred percent certain that they loved each other before the accident, and that you were intruding upon territory you had no intention of ever even looking at. So you had denied your heart, and even though Jungkook seemed to display mutual attraction, you had denied him, too. You had even lied to him and hinted that the engagement ring you had thrown at him when you broke up was something he had intended for Yi-Jae.
The situation had turned even more complicated when you found out that you needed to marry either Jungkook or Jung-Hyun in order to inherit Phoenix Inc., your late grandfather’s heritage and the family jewel. This caused Jung-Hyun to be pulled into all the mess that was your life at the time. His appearance was clearly not to Jungkook’s liking even during the amnesia when he had clung to everything of resemblance in an attempt to regain his memories, and the dynamics of their relationship was still an enigma you had yet to either solve or resolve.
You pursed your lips. Since you and Jungkook ultimately had gotten back together after an impulsive decision made by you but caused by his hyung and a fellow member of his group, Min Yoongi, things should be fine, shouldn’t they? The plan was simple from here: you would end your engagement with Jung-Hyun while Jungkook would cut his ties with Yi-Jae officially, and after that, the two of you could marry and live happily ever after, Jungkook with his dream as a singer, you with your position as CEO of one of the largest companies in Asia, if not the whole world. It shouldn’t be a long walk to that point since you no longer had to juggle lies and deceptions with Jungkook due to his amnesia, and he no longer had to try and remember who he was. Every conflict was resolved.
But that was definitely not the case. And it was all because of you.
You didn’t think you could end things with Jung-Hyun. Not just yet, not after what you had witnessed in his hotel room.
“We’re here.”
You hadn’t even noticed Jong-Yeol parking in front of the hotel entrance until his voice roused you out of your reverie. Judging by the expression he wore, you guessed that he must have waited for quite some time without you responding.
Embarrassed, you cleared your throat before you responded. “Thank you. I don’t think we’ll need you anymore today, so you can go home if you’d like to.”
“Very well,” he said, reluctance clear in his voice.
You smiled in an attempt to disperse his concern and stepped out of the car. After grabbing your duffel bag, you told Jong-Yeol goodbye and headed to the elevator. Nervosity made the ride to the top floor feel almost twice as long as usual, and you were slightly lightheaded as you unlocked the front door to your parents’ apartment.
Old eighties or nineties Korean rock music blasted from the kitchen, and you weren’t surprised to find your father standing by the stove while humming and dancing along to the tune. Your mother sat on one of the bar stools next to the kitchen isle with her thin legs crossed over each other, and even though she wore noise-cancelling headphones, a gadget she only pulled out when your father was cooking, you saw that her usually piercing gaze was soft with fondness as she occasionally glanced up from her tablet to look at your father.
“Dad!” You raised your voice when he didn’t seem to hear you. “Dad, I’m home!”
Your father whirled around, eyes round, which caused your mother to react as well. Picking up his phone from one of the apron pockets, your father lowered the volume until you could hear yourself think again and gave you a warm smile. “Hi, sweetie,” he said in that low, humming voice of his.
Your mother took off her headphones, and sighed when the motion made a few of the hairs on her perfectly straightened bob slide out of place. “Why are you so late?” she asked, her sharp voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The dinner is in less than forty-five minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time to get ready,” you replied.
“Not for you it’s not. Oh, and also,” added your mother before you could retort. “Jung-Hyun just notified me that he won’t be able to come.”
“What?” you exclaimed, even though you were secretly relieved by the news. If Jung-Hyun wasn’t going to be there for dinner, then perhaps you could postpone telling his and Jungkook’s parents about the change in your relationship. Perhaps you could postpone saying anything about you and Jungkook to anyone but your parents, Jong-Yeol and Se-Eun, who you had told almost directly after you had gone to see Jung-Hyun at his hotel room.
“Since he’s the youngest director out of all of Phoenix Inc.’s branches,” began your father in a consolatory tone, “he has to work a lot more to prove himself than the others.”
“He’ll be a lot more busy later this year,” said your mother. “I have plans of getting him to follow us on our next business trip to Beijing.”
Your father smiled at you. “I’m so glad he’s staying with our company even after you broke up the engagement. He’s a real asset for sure. I can see him climb and become your right hand within a very short time.”
“That’s good,” you said as you tried to hide the shame you felt. For even though you hadn’t technically lied to your parents, you hadn’t told them the truth. They thought you had told Jung-Hyun about you and Jungkook already, just like you had said you would when you called your mother the day you had decided to throw everything but your emotions away.
But you hadn’t and so, they didn’t know. Nobody did.
“I guess I won’t be telling his parents about the change of engagement plans then,” you continued, relief flowing throughout your veins. You could feel your shoulders visibly relax. “I can’t say something like that alone.”
“You won’t be.” Your mother smirked. “You have a visitor. They’re in your room.”
Furrowing your brows, you left the kitchen and headed to your bedroom as fast as your weary limbs allowed you to. Your heart was beating faster for a reason beyond your jogging, and though you tried to will it calm, your body wouldn’t obey. Anticipation bubbled in your stomach, and you readied yourself for a heavy dose of disappointment as you reached the closed door.
But as you opened it, nothing but joy filled your heart.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows that completely covered the western wall of your room, giving you a panoramic view of the city, was the one and only Jeon Jungkook. Your once fiancé, then ex-fiancé to whatever it was that the two of you were now. The boy you had grown up with and someone you used to despise. Or at least, that’s what you had thought until you found out he was cheating on you and he got into an accident as a result. Over the course of the exhausting spring months where you had done your best to help him get his memories back, you had realized just how much he meant to you - you loved him. And you thought he loved you too.
But neither one of you had said it.
Jungkook was regarding the city with his arms crossed over his chest, and didn’t turn around even after you stepped inside and shut the door behind you. He was kind of dressed up in black jeans that sat snugly around his waist - thanks to a belt - and thighs - thanks to, well, just him - and a white shirt with the sleeves sloppily rolled up to his elbows. His clothes didn’t exactly match with the fluffy pink slippers your mother most likely had made him wear when he entered the apartment, since your mother was obsessed with slippers. The sight made you grin as you dropped your duffel bag unceremoniously on the floor.
The sound made Jungkook spin around. His large, familiar brown eyes were initially widened in surprise, but a different emotion quickly replaced it as his focus traveled from the bag to you.
It was the same kind of tenderness you had seen your mother show your father in the kitchen a moment ago.
“I didn’t think you would be here,” you said as you averted your gaze quickly. “Don’t you have dance practice? Have you waited for long?”
You didn’t know if you should be uncomfortable or just happy that Jungkook looked at you the way he just did. It was just so strange seeing him like that.
He was just so… vulnerable.
“I came half an hour ago,” replied Jungkook. “And I do have practice, but how could I miss this? I can’t let you and Jung-Hyun-hyung explain everything without me. That would be cowardly.”
“About that…” You sank down onto your bed, too tired to stand any longer. “Jung-Hyun won’t be able to make it. He has work to do.”
“Can’t your parents give him one free evening? Doesn’t he technically work for them?”
He sounded accusatory, and when you looked at him, you found that you were right. Jungkook’s eyebrows were knitted together with annoyance, and none of his earlier tenderness remained.
“It’s a lot more complicated than that,” you replied a bit sharper than you had intended. “And it’s not like my parents can do whatever they want to with specific employees. It would be favoritism.”
Jungkook’s features softened, and he went to sit next to you. The mattress shifted underneath his weight, and the smell of soap, warmth and something uniquely Jungkook filled the air around you. The sudden proximity made your face redden and you dropped your gaze to the floor, but you didn’t move away.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to snap at you or your parents. I’m just… I’m just so excited.”
You furrowed your brows slightly as you returned your attention toward him. “About what?”
Jungkook gave you a small smile as he hastily shifted his focus elsewhere, a slight blush warming his complexion. “That we’re finally going to tell my parents about us,” he said simply.
Your blush deepened. “Oh. Oh.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Jungkook reached for your hand. You allowed him to grip it, feeling your heart skip a few beats at the sensation of his warm fingers. It was ridiculous how easy Jungkook could affect your heart, especially with something as innocuous as holding hands. It was something children did with their first crush, and something friends no matter the sex or age could do, yet why was things so different with Jungkook?
How could someone make you so happy with so little?
“You have told Jung-Hyun about us and ended your guys’ engagement, right?”
“Right, of course!” The words stumbled out of your mouth before you could think twice, and you inwardly slapped yourself in the face. This had been your last opportunity to tell Jungkook and your parents the truth: that Jung-Hyun didn’t know. And even though you knew just how reckless and stupid you were being, you couldn’t muster up the will to tell anyone.
All because of what you had beheld in Jung-Hyun’s hotel room almost a month ago.
Jungkook squeezed your hand. “Good.”
“What about you?” you wondered. “Have you told Yi-Jae’s and your management about us?”
“I have.”
You furrowed your brows slightly. “How come I haven’t heard of it? A breakup like yours has to be on the first page everywhere.”
“It hasn’t been made official yet,” said Jungkook casually. “But pretty much everyone in the industry knows.”
“Oh, alright.”
“By the way, I didn’t take you for a gossip magazine reader.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not. I just haven’t heard anything from Se-Eun about it. And for your interest, I don’t just read about today’s stocks and business plans all day.”
It was weird, but you thought you saw a glimpse of relief in Jungkook’s familiar brown eyes before it was replaced with amusement. “You don’t? And here I was, thinking that you’re going to be a good CEO one day.”
You smacked Jungkook on the shoulder with your free hand, which elicited a pained smile from him. “You’re so going to regret that,” he said, something akin to mischievousness lighting inside his familiar brown eyes.
Before you could even blink, Jungkook released your hand so that he could tickle your sides with all of his fingers. You let out a choked laughter and hastily tried to wriggle away from him, but he didn’t relent. In your desperation to get away, you felt yourself gradually glide off of the silk duvet cover. Fortunately, Jungkook caught you in the last second and lifted you back onto the center of the bed, where he, too, sat down.
You fell back against the mattress as you gasped for air. “What was that?” you asked as you wiped tears away from the corners of your eye. “I expected some kind of taekwondo move - not some cheap tickling!”
“Aren’t you haughty, saying tickles are cheap.” Jungkook smirked as he held up his hands. “I bet I could earn a lot by tickling people with these fingers.”
“Now who’s the one being haughty?” you parried. “But seriously, you’ve never tickled me before. Why do it, all of a sudden?”
A wistful look entered his eyes and his smirk faded. “Because you looked like you needed to laugh.”
Your cheeks flushed and you averted your gaze. “Ah,” you said intelligently.
Jungkook cleared his throat, dispersing the suddenly awkward atmosphere. He rubbed the part of his shoulder that you had struck earlier and grimaced. “You’re hitting a lot harder now after you’ve started boxing classes.”
You sent him a taunting smile. “Thanks. Song-Hun said today that I’m a natural.”
Jungkook arched a brow. “Your trainer is a guy?”
You mimicked his expression. “What’s wrong with that?”
“How old is he? What does he look like?”
“He’s twenty-six. And I don’t think anyone can deny that he’s really good-looking.”
“Is he single?”
“If I didn’t know better,” you began with a growing smile, “I would say that you’re jealous. Am I right?”
Jungkook climbed over you and leaned closer until his face and torso hovered mere inches above you. “If I didn’t know better,” he repeated quietly, “I would say that you’re trying to provoke me. Am I right?”
“Of course not,” you lied, your heart beating so hard inside your ribcage that you could hear it.
He smiled crookedly. “Liar.”
Jungkook’s gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips, and you felt your face grow hotter underneath his scrutiny. The warmth emanating from his body, even through his clothes, was so palpable you almost had to double-check and see that he really was wearing something. Your fingers itched to touch the angle of his jaw and nose and, well, everything else on him. It felt like you were being physically pulled toward his lips and body and hands and you wanted to touch him and let him touch you. The desire to do more than just kiss him was almost impossible to resist, which was particularly odd since the two of you hadn’t really had your first kiss yet.
He was even more difficult to resist when one of his hands traveled from your cheek to the exposed skin on your shoulder, to your waist and then finally stopped on your right bare leg. Your parents’ apartment was kept at a comfortable temperature thanks to all the AC installed into each of the rooms, yet you suddenly felt way too hot inside your summery clothes where you lay beneath Jungkook.
Way too hot.
But no matter how badly you wanted Jungkook, you couldn’t have him. Not just yet. Not while Jung-Hyun didn’t know.
Because that would make you no better than a cheater.
Before Jungkook - or you - could do something you would regret, you blocked your mouth from his using your hand. He furrowed his brows, but the bemusement in his familiar brown eyes was quickly replaced by remorse when he read the look in your eyes. Without a word, he quickly backed away and shuffled to the end of the bed.
“I went too fast,” he said in a neutral tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Jungkook--” you started.
“I understand,” he interrupted. “It’s weird. We’re--us, it’s weird. And I get that it can be difficult to kiss me after all that’s happened between us. After what I did to you.”
You pursed your lips. The topic of Jungkook and Yi-Jae’s relationship was something both of you subconsciously - or perhaps not so subconsciously - avoided. It was clear that Jungkook was your first whatever-it-is-that-he-was, and he knew that you had never really kissed or been with another guy like that. On the other hand, you knew that Jungkook had first met Yi-Jae two years ago, which meant their relationship had to be somewhat… advanced. And although you would never ask and you doubted Jungkook would ever tell, you wanted to know what he had done with her.
Was it some kind of self-destructive urge? Morbid curiosity? You did not know. All you did know was that you couldn’t ignore the dark, simmering jealousy swirling inside your stomach, just waiting for an opportunity to flood out.
“It’s not like that,” you said - a half-lie - as you slid over to sit behind him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and rested your head on his back. “It’s just…”
He turned his head sideways, just enough for you to see his profile. “It’s just what?” he asked as he gently placed his hands over yours.
“I…”
You wanted to say that you hadn’t told Jung-Hyun yet about you and Jungkook and that’s why you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to really touch Jungkook, even less kiss him. But then you would have to explain why you hadn’t confronted Jung-Hyun about it.
And that was just something you couldn’t do.
“I… I have something important to tell you.”
You raised a brow softly, surprised by the amount of earnestness in his tone. “Yeah?”
Jungkook’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath, then shrunk as he let it out. Your one arched brow turned into a frown, and just as you were about to further prod him about the subject at hand, your door opened. Your face turned scorching hot when your mother barged in through the doorway and looked at you and Jungkook as if it were the most natural thing in the world to see the two of you somewhat wrapped up together.
“Have you still not changed clothes?” she said coolly as her sharp gaze found yours. “Jungkook’s parents will be here in twenty minutes.”
“Mom!”
You disentangled yourself so quickly from Jungkook that you practically fell out of the bed. Jungkook chuckled at your flustered action, but instantly stopped and pretended to look elsewhere when you glared at him.
Your mother’s features softened as she turned her attention to him. “Jungkook, sweetheart, mind helping me set up the table? I would ask (Y/N), but as you’ve surely noticed, she’s not dressed very appropriately.”
“Of course I’ll help,” said Jungkook and stood up.
“Good, then follow me.”
A hint of redness coloured his cheeks as he followed your mother out of your room. As soon as the door shut behind them, you kicked the side of your bed out of embarrassment. Before you could start to dwell on what had just happened, however, you decided to change clothes. After finding a suitable dress and a cardigan, you rummaged through your jewelry collection for some sort of accessory to make your outfit a bit more dressy.
However, that’s when you found the engagement ring Jung-Hyun had bought you.
“Shoot,” you mumbled as you put it on. “What the heck am I doing?”
Despite the fact that you voiced the question, you knew the answer. Because as little as you wanted to wear the ring Jung-Hyun had bought you, partly because it was a gift and partly because it was the token of your engagement, you had to. You couldn’t let his and Jungkook’s parents become suspicious. You couldn’t let them know what you knew. You had to remain as Jung-Hyun’s fiancée until you had found out what exactly it was that you had witnessed that afternoon in the hotel room.
Because you doubted he would tell you anything if you broke up with him and went to his brother.
You wandered out of your room by 18.22. Jungkook’s parents were supposed to arrive at half past, which technically meant you had about ten minutes left, but your mother still gave you a dagger-like stare as you entered the dining hall.
“About time you got proper,” she told you, a teasing glimmer entering her eyes. “With the way you were holding onto him, I thought you were mimicking monkeys.”
She was sitting alone at the head of the table with a glass of red wine in her one hand and her phone in the other. The rock music had stopped, and you heard your father finishing up in the kitchen.
“Where’s Jungkook?” you asked, ignoring her comment, though it didn’t completely unfaze you. Your face felt hot again as you sank down onto one of the ten chairs that surrounded the long dining table in dark wood and metal and glass.
“In the bathroom,” she replied and sipped her wine. “You haven’t had sex with him yet, have you?”
“Of course not!” you exclaimed. “Why would you even ask that?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my only child and a daughter at that. As a mother, it’s my duty to protect you.”
“Yet you still make bets with dad about me,” you muttered underneath your breath as you cooled your face by fanning yourself with a napkin.
“Hmm? What was that?”
“Nothing, mom.”
Your mother opened her mouth to speak, clearly sensing your dishonesty, but was cut off by the door bell.
“They’re here!” called your father from the kitchen.
You and your mother stood and went to the hallway, where your father already waited, apron still wrapped firmly around his waist. Jungkook was also there, but although an undoubtedly large amount of excitement glinted inside his familiar brown eyes, he also appeared anxious. His skin was a bit paler than it was before, and the crooked smile he sent you didn’t quite reach up to his eyes. You fleetingly wondered if it had something to do with earlier. What would he had said if your mother hadn’t interrupted you?
“Hello!”
The entryway was filled with loud greetings as your father opened the front door to let Jungkook’s parents in. You waited for your parents to greet and hug them first, and noticed Jungkook doing the same. Glancing up at him, you tried to sense if he was uncomfortable at the sight of his father, but Jungkook’s eyes had turned unreadable, which made you even more concerned.
One of your biggest, shameful secrets in life was that you hadn’t told anyone about Jungkook’s continuous, physical and probably emotional and psychological abuse as a child. You hadn’t admitted that you knew all about it to Jungkook until he had been amnesic, and he jokingly brought up something about Death. But ever since then, you hadn’t really touched on the topic, and Jungkook hadn’t told you more about it. You didn’t really know how he felt toward his parents aside from what he outwardly portrayed, which wasn’t very telling.
In all honesty, you wanted to confront both of Jungkook’s parents about it right that moment. But you knew you couldn’t. Not unless Jungkook wanted you to. Not unless he was ready.
For in the end, this was his war. You could only support him.
His mother, sweet and meek-looking and significantly shorter than anyone else there, pulled you in for a hug as soon as she saw you. “I swear,” she began, her kind, vibrant voice practically gushing out the rest, “you’re getting prettier each time I see you, (Y/N).”
You smiled in embarrassment as you tried to get out of her hug as quickly, but discreetly as you could. “Thank you, mother,” you said.
Her eyes, which were strikingly similar to Jungkook’s, beamed at you before she hesitantly embraced Jungkook, seemingly startled by his presence. He returned the hug, but there was still a blankness to his eyes that worried you.
A blankness that morphed into barely repressed anger when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“How have you been, (Y/N)?”
While Jungkook looked like his mother, there was an obvious resemblance between Jung-Hyun and his father. Neither one of their children had their father’s eyes, but while Jungkook’s rather soft features were clearly derived from his mother, Jung-Hyun’s contradictory hard features came from their father. His eyes were darker than both of his sons, and although he had a kind smile, you didn’t really trust him.
“Just fine, thank you,” you said as you quickly turned around and bowed.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” said Jungkook’s father as he looked past you and at Jungkook. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your comeback?”
He said it lightheartedly, but Jungkook’s father had a naturally gruff voice. You saw Jungkook stiffen in the corner of your eye, and gave him a consolatory look. Again, you felt the urge to blurt something, but you managed to bite it back in the last second.
It had always been a bit tense between Jungkook and his father. Even your parents had probably sensed it over the years. Of course, it was something none of you ever commented on since their family business was exactly that, their family business. And you knew your father looked up to Jungkook’s father - even more so now after your father had told you about his depression and suicidal past.
“I’m free today,” said Jungkook nonchalantly.
“If you are, you should use your spare time to practice more.”
“Now, now,” said your father before Jungkook could respond. He slung an arm over Jungkook’s father and patted him on the back. “Let’s not talk about work.”
“Where’s Jung-Hyun, by the way?” wondered Jungkook’s mother, after first looking nervously at her husband and son’s tense interaction.
“He couldn’t make it,” said your mother. “Work came up.”
“Ah, he works so hard, my son.” Jungkook’s mother sniffed the air, then smiled at your father. “It smells lovely.”
“It’s a recipe I got from a business partner's Italian wife,” said your father, arm still slung around Jungkook’s father. “I’ve never really made pasta myself, but it turned out well.”
“You’d better be right,” said Jungkook’s father with a snort. “I didn’t eat lunch today so that I could eat well here.”
“I hope it tastes horribly, then.”
Jungkook’s father chuckled. “You’re such a bad friend.”
“We’re friends?”
Jungkook’s father shoved your father away from him, and took off his shoes before stepping onto the wooden flooring past the black linoleum covering the entryway floor. You spotted Jungkook backing away, probably unconsciously, even though there was tons of space in the hallway. You balled your hands into fists, but still kept your mouth firmly shut.
“Slippers,” warned your mother as she helped Jungkook’s mother with her outerwear, her sharp gaze critical.
Your father waved her words away, something he only dared to do when Jungkook’s father was around. “It’s not necessary. Darling, why don’t you prepare something for everyone to drink? For the children, too.”
You saw that your mother swallowed an explanation as to why slippers were good indoors - an explanation you had heard countless of times - and merely smiled. “I will. But first…”
Your stomach dropped to the floor when she aimed her focus on you.
“Don’t you have something to tell Jungkook’s parents, (Y/N)?”
You froze. Jungkook’s parents both gazed at you with varying levels of curiosity, while your parents seemed expectant. Your heart started beating faster, and you hid your hands, or to be more specific, the hand with the ring.
“What is it?” asked Jungkook’s mother gently.
You felt a supportive hand on your back, and glanced over your shoulder to find Jungkook by your side. He gave you that crooked smile of his, and the warmth of his palm bled into your back, through the fabric of the cardigan.
“I’m hungry, (Y/N),” said Jungkook’s father with an easy smile. “Don’t be shy. Just say it.”
Your mother frowned at you when you did not speak. “It’s about her and Jungkook’s engagement,” she began. “It’s been canc--”
“It’s been postponed,” you blurted, silencing your mother a following look. “We’re having the wedding later this year instead.”
“Oh, well.” Jungkook’s mother caressed your cheek with her hand. “That’s not something that you needed to be nervous to tell us about. You’re still so young - of course you’ll want some more time before getting married.”
“Yeah, right.” You swallowed. “Of course.”
Before either one of your parents could say something, you ushered them and Jungkook’s parents toward the kitchen. You felt both of your parents’ eyes on you, but fortunately, they didn’t say anything as they began pouring up some wine and something easy to eat with it. You joined the conversation and helped carry the food over to the dining room, overly eager in your attempt to steer the topic as far away from you and Jung-Hyun’s engagement and wedding as possible. Jungkook’s parents didn’t seem to notice anything, and your parents let it slide, but one pair of eyes never strayed away from you - or the ring on your finger.
And those were Jungkook’s familiar, brown eyes.
Jungkook’s parents had been there for about two hours when your father began rising from the table to prepare some more bread and salad. You offered to do it instead, much to your father’s relief, but you instantly regretted saying anything when Jungkook rose, too.
“I’ll help you,” he said.
You started to voice a protest when you saw the look in Jungkook’s eyes. Even if you managed to avoid him for now, you wouldn’t be able to in the long run. Thus, with nothing but a small sigh, you headed to the kitchen without a word. Jungkook trailed behind.
Neither of you said anything for a while. You assigned Jungkook to slice up the bread while you washed and prepared the vegetables. Nothing but the sound of your cutting filled the air - but that didn’t mean the atmosphere wasn’t heavy. The little sounds that the two of you made and the faint sounds of your parents’ voices made the silence in the kitchen so much more overbearing.
“Why are you wearing the engagement ring he bought you, (Y/N)?”
The coolness in Jungkook’s voice made your heart clench. You slowly released your hold of the knife and turned around. He had been cutting by the kitchen island while you had occupied the counter next to the sink.
“I honestly can’t explain,” you said quietly. “I don’t want to marry Jung-Hyun-oppa, and I’m not going to. But… but I can’t end our engagement just yet.”
Jungkook didn’t even glance at you. “Why not?” he wondered as he placed the sliced bread pieces in the basket he had brought from the dining hall.
“I can’t say,” you admitted. “And I know it’s unfair of me to demand this, but I need you to trust me, Jungkook.”
He regarded you for a long while, his familiar brown eyes unreadable. But then he reached out for you, and grasped your left hand in both of his. You swallowed as he touched the surface of the ring, especially when his eyes turned hard, almost detached, as he scrutinized the tiny diamonds.
“I hate seeing you with this,” he murmured. “I hate seeing you with my brother. But I trust you.”
You intertwined your fingers with his. “Thank you,” you said softly.
“So, I can assume that you haven’t told him about us?”
You shook your head. “I haven’t.”
“Well then.” He scratched the back of his head. “That explains why you won’t really let me touch you.”
You blushed, but as his words reminded you of what had happened in your bedroom, you also remembered that there had been something he wanted to tell you.
“Earlier, in my room…”
Jungkook’s smile widened. “Yeah?”
A part of you wanted to wipe the obvious satisfaction in his face with a punch, but you held it back. “You said you wanted to tell me something,” you told him. “Something important.”
Jungkook’s expression fell. “Oh.”
“We have time now.”
Jungkook averted his gaze and his jaw tensed. You frowned as you saw his reaction, and when he remained quiet, your bemusement turned into genuine concern. But just when you were about to speak, there was a loud noise of furniture tumbling coming from the dining hall. Jungkook’s eyes were wide as they darted to you, but before either of you could do anything, your mother ran into the kitchen, eyes wild. As soon as she spoke, your blood turned into ice inside your body and you forgot all thoughts about Jungkook, Jung-Hyun, and well, anyone.
For what she said was more important and terrifying than any and all of that.
“Call an ambulance, (Y/N). I think your father just had another heart attack.”