• 15- ʏ/ɴ •

. . . . .

The moment JUNGKOOK opens the door, I crash into him.

It's not graceful, not even close-I'm shaking, breathless, clutching his shirt like a lifeline as I shove myself into the room, half-hiding behind him. My chest is tight, my lungs barely working, and my pulse is a frantic, uneven mess.

His body stiffens against mine.

"Y/N," he breathes, low and sharp, but I can't answer. I just tighten my grip, twisting my fingers into his shirt like it'll keep me hidden, keep me safe.

Then his posture changes. His whole body goes still.

And I know he sees him.

The guy I ran from. The reason my legs nearly gave out as I bolted down the hall, terror pressing against my ribs like a vise.

TAEHYUNG.

He's standing just a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his expression far too casual for how completely wrong this situation feels. His gaze flicks over JUNGKOOK, assessing, like he's trying to gauge his reaction.

"Hey, man," he says smoothly, like this is some joke. "Did you see a girl come this way?"

I feel JUNGKOOK's muscles lock under my grip.

He doesn't move. Doesn't speak.

But something in the air shifts, thickens, darkens.

When he finally speaks, his voice is cold. Controlled.

"You're looking for a girl?" he muses, like he's genuinely curious. His tone is smooth, effortless-almost amused. But I feel the way his muscles tighten beneath my hands. "And what, she just happened to run away from you?"

TAEHYUNG-that's his name, I remember it now, bitter and vile-lets out a lazy laugh.

"Oh, come on, dude. She was just being dramatic."

I flinch. JUNGKOOK notices.

His fingers twitch.

TAEHYUNG smirks, like he thinks this is funny, like he has the upper hand. "We were just talking. Maybe she got a little scared, but that's not my fault, you know? Girls are emotional like that-"

The sound that leaves JUNGKOOK s throat is dark. Low. Lethal.

And then he steps forward.

Instinctively, I move with him-my grip still locked on his shirt, my heart still hammering against my ribs-but JUNGKOOK doesn't let me hold him back. He shifts, just enough to push me behind him, shielding me completely.

TAEHYUNG lifts a brow, his smile widening. "Relax, man. You her boyfriend or something?"

JUNGKOOK tilts his head. "Or something."

TAEHYUNG scoffs. "Jesus. Fine. Whatever. She's all yours. No need to get so worked up." He moves to turn, to leave, like this is over.

But JUNGKOOK isn't done.

His voice is sharper this time, cutting through the air like a blade. "You think you get to just walk away?"

TAEHYUNG stills. "What?"

JUNGKOOK doesn't look at me.

He's still standing between me and him, still shielding me with his body, but his gaze stays locked on TAEHYUNG, dark and unreadable. The energy around him is sharp, electric, like something coiling tighter and tighter, waiting to snap.

His voice, when he speaks, is terrifyingly calm.

"Y/N."

I flinch at the sound of my name.

His tone is so level, so controlled, but there's something underneath it-something dangerous, something barely contained.

He still doesn't look at me.

Instead, his head tilts slightly, his gaze fixed on TAEHYUNG, watching him like a predator sizing up its prey.

"What did he do?"

I swallow. My throat feels dry, my chest too tight.

JUNGKOOK waits.

I try to speak, but the words catch. My breath stutters.

TAEHYUNG shifts like he's about to cut in -like he thinks he can talk his way out of this-but JUNGKOOK just lifts a hand. A slight movement, barely anything. But it shuts him up fast.

"Y/N," JUNGKOOK says again, softer this time.

I take a shaky breath. Then another.

And then, finally-barely above a whisper -"He t-touched me."

The air in the room plummets.

JUNGKOOK's jaw tightens.

Still, he doesn't look at me. Still, he doesn't move.

Instead, his voice drops, slow and deliberate. "Did he ask?"

TAEHYUNG scoffs, shifting slightly, looking put out, like this is some huge inconvenience. "Dude-"

"Shut up."

The words are quiet. But they slice through the air like a blade.

TAEHYUNG stills.

JUNGKOOK's eyes stay on him, dark and unwavering. "Did he ask?"

I shake my head, barely managing the word. "No. I told him no."

JUNGKOOK exhales, slow and measured, his head tilting slightly. "So no consent."

His voice is almost pleasant. Almost.

But something in the way he says it-calm, steady, completely controlled-makes my skin prickle.

TAEHYUNG shifts again, looking nervous for the first time. "Listen, man, it wasn't like-"

And then he lunges.

It's fast, desperate-like he knows he's backed into a corner and thinks his best shot is getting the first move.

It's a mistake.

Because JUNGKOOK? JUNGKOOK has been waiting.

The second TAEHYUNG moves, JUNGKOOK meets him head-on, catching his fist mid-swing like it's nothing.

Then he twists.

TAEHYUNG lets out a choked, startled noise as JUNGKOOK slams him back against the wall, his arm pinning him in place.

JUNGKOOK leans in, his voice low, smooth, lethal. "You don't touch her without consent and get away with it."

TAEHYUNG struggles. JUNGKOOK doesn't budge.

TAEHYUNG curses, trying to shove him off, but JUNGKOOK is stronger. Faster.

And angry.

So, so angry.

TAEHYUNG swings again. This time, JUNGKOOK lets him-dodging just enough to make him miss before driving his fist into his stomach.

TAEHYUNG chokes. Doubles over.

"That's for touching her."

Another hit.

"Without consent."

Another hit.

"That's for thinking you could walk away."

Another hit.

TAEHYUNG stumbles back, gasping for breath. His eyes are wide now, panicked. "You're fucking crazy, man!" he wheezes out.

JUNGKOOK just tilts his head, slow and deliberate.

"You have no idea."

TAEHYUNG is wheezing, clutching his side, and then he croaks out a pathetic, "No-"

JUNGKOOK laughs. Low and amused. Mocking.

"Oh, now you care about no?" His voice is pure venom, dripping with derision. "That's funny. That's real fucking funny."

TAEHYUNG barely has time to react before JUNGKOOK lands one last brutal hit. A powerful strike to the jaw that sends him crashing to the floor.

Silence.

Heavily charged silence.

TAEHYUNG groans, rolling onto his side, spitting blood onto the floor. He looks up at JUNGKOOK, his expression twisted with fury, but there's something else there too.

Fear.

JUNGKOOK stares down at him, his breathing steady, his fists still clenched. "Get up."

TAEHYUNG hesitates, his face twisting in pain.

JUNGKOOK's head tilts again, gaze cold. "I said, get the fuck up."

TAEHYUNG scrambles to his feet, wobbling slightly, shooting him one last look before turning and limping down the hall.

But before he can get too far, JUNGKOOK speaks again-calm, quiet, lethal.

"If you so much as breathe in her direction again, I'll fucking kill you."

TAEHYUNG freezes.

JUNGKOOK doesn't move, doesn't blink. His voice is steady and unwavering.

"And I won't give a damn about the consequences."

TAEHYUNG swallows hard. He doesn't say anything-just stumbles away, disappearing down the hall.

The tension lingers. My breath still feels too fast, too shallow. My hands are shaking.

JUNGKOOK doesn't move.

His posture is still rigid, his fists still clenched at his sides.

And then, slowly, he turns to me.

His gaze softens, just a fraction. "Are you okay?"

I nod, even though I don't think I am.

His jaw tightens again, his eyes scanning me like he's checking for damage, like he's making sure.

And then, before I can stop myself, I step forward and press my face into his chest and I break.

JUNGKOOK stills.

Then-his arms come up, wrapping around me, pulling me in, rubbing a soothing hand down my back.

He doesn't say anything.

He just holds me.

. . . . .

I wake up, my body heavy like I've been asleep for days. I can't even remember when I passed out, but I must've been exhausted-changed into my pajamas and just collapsed.

I blink my eyes open, my brain still half-foggy. And then, I see him.

JUNGKOOK.

He's sprawled across his bed, back against the headboard, casually twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His hair is messy, but somehow perfect. He's got that effortlessly "I just woke up" look, but like-dangerously good looking. His jawline is sharp enough to cut glass, and there's a cool, almost untouchable vibe about him. I'll never get over how pretty he is, will I?

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. "Hi," I say, voice a little hoarse.

He doesn't look up right away, just stares at the cigarette for a beat longer before finally lifting his gaze. It's slow, deliberate, like he's calculating something.

"Hi," he mutters, his voice all low and gravelly.

I take a deep breath.

"Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, haha. I swear, I wasn't trying to make you deal with my drama or whatever." I laugh awkwardly, running a hand through my hair. "I should probably stop being such a burden."

JUNGKOOK's eyes narrow, and without missing a beat, he says, "How long has he been harassing you?"

My stomach sinks.

The sudden shift in his tone catches me off guard. It's so serious, I almost forget how to speak.

"Uh, some time now," I admit, trying to brush it off like it's no big deal. "It's fine though, really. Nothing I can't handle. But I should've just taken that karate lesson Mom always wanted me to. Guess I'd be a black belt by now, huh?" I give a forced laugh, but the whole thing feels off.

JUNGKOOK doesn't crack a smile.

Instead, he leans forward slightly, gaze intense. "If something even remotely like that happens again, you tell me. Or your brother. Or someone who can do something."

I blink, feeling this weird heat bubble up in my chest. The warmth of his words kind of knocks the wind out of me.

I feel a weird heat rush through me, like I'm not sure if it's relief or something else. But before I can process it, I ask, almost too softly, "You wouldn't mind, though?"

JUNGKOOK goes still, and for a second, I swear his expression softens just a little. But then he shakes his head, a frown appearing like he's confused by the question. "Why would I mind?"

The answer feels warm, reassuring, but something nags at me. My brain races. "Wait-how do you know I have a brother?"

The second the words leave my mouth, I see his entire demeanor change. It's like I've hit a button that makes him want to disappear from this conversation.

The tip of his ears go red, just a little-like he's caught doing something he didn't want me to notice.

His hand tenses around the cigarette, and he's staring anywhere but at me now.

His voice goes snappy, defensive. "What, you think I'm fucking dumb or something?" He huffs, rolling his eyes.

"I notice things, alright? People have siblings, Y/N. It's no

t rocket science."

It's obvious he's not answering me, and I can see that little flush still coloring his cheeks. It's adorable. He's trying to play it off, but it's clear: he's embarrassed.

I feel a little grin tug at my lips. Maybe he notices more than he wants to admit.