† 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟱 †

╭─━─━─━─━─━─╮𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟱†❝𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗘𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧❞╰─━─━─━─━─━─╯

༺ ☠︎ †  𝖁 𝖎 𝖘 𝖎 𝖔 𝖓  𝖎 𝖓  𝕯 𝖆 𝖗 𝖐  † ☠︎ ༻

The ticking of the clock echoed softly through the quiet house. Evie sat on the living room sofa, legs curled under her, head resting against the armrest. It was a slow afternoon but nothing seemed to move. Nothing felt alive.

She sighed again, for what felt like the tenth time that hour.

Totally bored.

It had been a week since Jungkook told her to leave her job.

She'd agreed that night–half because he'd come home drained from work and half because she didn't want to fight when he was already exhausted. But the next morning, she brought it up again, hoping for a more reasonable discussion.

It didn't go well.

They hadn't exactly fought, but it had turned into a tense exchange–one that left her more confused than anything. Jungkook had told her, in his usual commanding tone, that he didn't want her working under anyone in his company. That it was about image and power dynamics. He didn't like the idea of people who respected him giving her orders. According to him, she'd only return to work when he fully took over the company and only if she worked beside him, not beneath anyone else.

Evie had tried to reason with him, to explain that it wasn't about hierarchy or status.

Work is work. No job is beneath her. It's not about money—it's about purpose, growth, and keeping herself mentally active.

But he wouldn't budge.

She'd even offered to apply to a different company, start fresh somewhere else. But he'd shut that down too. Said something about not wanting his wife out there "like that"—as if her working in a normal job somehow tarnished his reputation. She didn't even understand what the hell that meant.

It was frustrating, so freaking frustrated—trying to explain something so basic and having it twisted into something it wasn't. But she let it go. She didn't want things to get ugly. Sometimes in marriage, you choose peace over proving your point and that's what she did.

So she resigned.

And now here she was, a week later, stuck in this house with too much silence and too little to do. She'd finished all the house chores by noon. She'd scrolled through her phone. She'd even reorganized a shelf she didn't care about. And still, the hours dragged.

If this was going to be her life for the next two or three years until Jungkook took over the company so that she can work again, she was going to lose her damn mind.

She glanced at the clock again. Jungkook wouldn't be home for a few more hours.

Lately, even he hadn't been acting like himself and that was what unsettled her the most. She knew him–at least she believed she did. She knew the guy who could never stay serious for more than a minute, who would tease her endlessly just to see her roll her eyes, who carried that careless, cocky charm as if the world had been built only for his amusement. But now, something about him felt different, very strange.

He wasn't his usual flirty, playful self anymore. The easy smirk that used to live on his lips appeared less often. Small things began to irritate him–tiny comments that he would once laugh off now made his jaw tighten. Sometimes, when she asked too many questions, he would look at her with visible annoyance, as if he's getting frustrated by her presence. He snapped once or twice over nothing and though he would quickly brush it off, she felt the sting of it long after he had moved on.

For someone who used to act like life was nothing but a joke, this sudden seriousness—this unpredictable mood—felt strange and unfamiliar to her.

And yet, she tried to reason with herself. Maybe it was the training. Maybe it was the new responsibilities being placed on his shoulders. Maybe it was the silent expectations from his father. She knew those things could change a person. Pressure could make even the strongest seem distant. She couldn't judge him for struggling, especially when she had never stood where he stood. She told herself she didn't fully understand his world, so she had no right to complain about how it was shaping him.

What made it harder, though, was that he seemed aware of it too. Every time his mood affected her–every time she grew a little quieter because of his sharp tone–he would notice. And in those moments, something in him would soften.

He wouldn't always apologize with words; that wasn't his way. Instead, he would pull her into a tight hug, almost too tight. Sometimes he would cling to her longer than usual, resting his head against her shoulder in silence, silently asking for understanding without saying it out loud. It was his quiet way of saying sorry. His way of making things mutual again.

She understood the stress. She truly did. She understood that he was fighting battles she couldn't see, carrying burdens he didn't know how to share. So she didn't argue back. She didn't complain. She didn't point out how his sharpness sometimes hurt her. Instead, she chose to let it be. She chose to let him be.

But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the change still felt strange. It didn't sit right in her heart. And even if she never said it out loud, a quiet part of her couldn't help but wonder how long this new version of him would last.

His birthday was only a few weeks away and she had already started thinking about it. Nothing big–just something simple and meaningful. Maybe a quiet evening, his favorite food, a small surprise that would make him relax for once. She didn't want anything grand. She just wanted him to feel ease again, to laugh the way he used to without that constant tension sitting on his shoulders.

She hoped that maybe, on that day, when things felt nice and he wasn't so tense, she could talk to him properly, just to sit and have a normal conversation like they used to, where he would tease her halfway through and she would pretend to be annoyed. She missed that. And maybe his birthday would be a good moment to bring a little of that back.

But for now, all she could do was wait. And try not to feel like the walls were closing in around her.

Evie sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The silence of the house was unbearable now. She'd been sitting on the sofa for hours, so she pushed herself off the sofa, she stood and stretched lightly before walking toward the bedroom–their bedroom. As she stepped inside, her eyes swept over the space, and she let out another sigh, this time for a different reason.

The room looked exactly the way Jungkook liked it: expensive, minimalist, dark, and cold.

Everything in the room looked expensive–there was no denying that. Sleek black and grey furniture, perfectly painted white walls, a dark-toned bedspread that matched the heavy curtains as if they were part of some luxury showroom set. Even the decor followed the same theme that overly serious "modern aesthetic" that designers loved.

It was stylish, yes. Clean. Put together.

And completely lifeless.

She stood there for a moment, hands on her hips, staring at the room. How did someone live like this? It felt less like a bedroom and more like a high-end hotel suite where you weren't supposed to touch anything.

She had only been here a week and she was already craving colour.

The entire house followed the same dark, dramatic theme—black, grey, deeper grey, and then just in case that wasn't enough… charcoal.

No wonder why she's feeling so down nowadays.

She needed colour. Something soft. Something human.

Because if she had to wake up every day surrounded by this much darkness, she was convinced it would slowly start affecting her mood. It already felt a little heavy, like the room was judging her for existing too brightly inside it.

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked around again, trying to imagine the place with even a little warmth. The room didn't need to turn into a pink fairy tale. She wasn't asking for glitter and neon lights. But at least something that didn't make her feel like she was living inside a furniture catalogue.

That was it.

She got up with quiet determination. If she had to survive here, small changes were necessary.

From her suitcase, she pulled out one of her spare bedspreads–a soft pastel one with light floral patterns, beautiful and comforting. She stripped off the dull grey cover and replaced it with her own. Instantly, the bed looked less intimidating, like it had finally decided to relax.

Next came the throw pillows she had brought from her old place. One was shaped like a small heart and another had embroidery stitched across it. She arranged them carefully, stepping back once to adjust the angle, because if she was going to do this, she might as well do it properly.

From one of her storage boxes, she pulled out a few wall pieces she had kept. A minimal canvas with a hopeful quote, enough to mean something. A few cute photo frames followed, though they were still empty for now. She would fill them later. On the nightstand, she placed two small stuffed teddies. One was a tiny bear she had owned since college, slightly worn but comforting. The other, a little bigger, she placed near the couch by the window, where it didn't look too out of place but still added life.

When she finally paused and looked around, the difference was subtle but real. The room didn't feel like a showroom anymore. It felt like someone actually lived there.

Sure, the black furniture and curtains still irritated her a little. They probably always would. But this was better. Much better than before.

She made a mental note to talk to Jungkook about changing the wall theme someday. Maybe lighter curtains. Maybe different upholstery. She could already imagine how much brighter the place would feel with even small adjustments.

For now, though, she smiled to herself.

It wasn't perfect but at least it finally felt a little bit like home.

With the sun beginning to set, she moved toward the kitchen. Jungkook would be home soon, and she figured making dinner might keep her distracted a little longer. She tied her hair up, rolled her sleeves, and got to work–chopping vegetables, boiling pasta, and setting the table quietly.

The silence didn't feel so heavy. She'd made a few changes, just for herself, and somehow that was enough to lift her mood–at least for now.

The clock struck a little past seven when Evie heard the sound of keys jingling at the front door. She quickly wiped her hands with a kitchen towel and hurried over to greet him. As the door creaked open, Jungkook stepped in, looking visibly tired, his hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up and his face marked with a dull exhaustion that had become more frequent these days.

"Hey, you home, how was your day?" She greeted him with a soft smile, her voice warm and welcoming.

"Tiring as always," he replied flatly, barely glancing at her.

He bent down to take off his shoes, sighing heavily as he did. Evie kept her tone gentle, brushing off his coldness. "Dinner's ready. Go freshen up, I'll serve."

Without saying a word, Jungkook walked past her and climbed the stairs, his footsteps slow, almost dragging.

Evie returned to the dining area, arranging the last few dishes on the table. She was used to his mood swings lately. The stress took a toll on him, and though it hurt sometimes, she tried not to take it personally. Maybe he just needed time.

Upstairs, Jungkook opened the door to their bedroom, intending to quickly change out of his work clothes but his steps came to a sudden halt the moment he stepped inside.

His eyes scanned the room, his expression darkening almost instantly. The familiar black and grey tones of the room had been replaced. The once dull bedsheet was now swapped for a light floral one. A couple of small teddies sat on the bedside table–one of them wearing a tiny bowtie. The weird quotation and couples photo frame. A faint scent of lavender in the air from a small candle on the dresser.

His jaw tightened.

"What the hell..." he muttered under his breath, slowly stepping inside.

He looked around with increasing irritation, his eyes darting from the heart shaped pillow to the teddy bear on the sofa. The longer he looked, the more irritated he became. His fingers ran through his hair in frustration before he shouted,

"Evie!"

Downstairs, she flinched a little at the sharpness in his voice but immediately headed up, thinking maybe he couldn't find something or needed help with clothes.

She entered the room, wiping her hands with the corner of her apron. "Yeah? What happened?" she asked, slightly breathless from the stairs.

Jungkook turned toward her, his brows furrowed. "What is this?" he asked coldly, gesturing around the room.

She looked around, confused for a second, then her eyes landed on the bed and the decorations. Her face relaxed a bit in realization. "Oh… the room," she said, taking a slow step forward. "Yeah, I changed a few things. Why?"

He stared at her like she'd said something ridiculous. "You did this?" he asked again, disbelief laced in every word.

Evie blinked at him, not sure what was so offensive. "Yes… I mean, I thought the room was looking too dull, you know? A little too dark and plain. I didn't change anything major… just added a few things to brighten it up. Doesn't it feel a bit more warm and welcoming now?"

Jungkook scoffed.

"Warm and welcoming?" he repeated mockingly, then shook his head. "Evie, seriously? You think this shit is good?"

She frowned slightly at his tone. "I thought it looked—"

"It looks ridiculous," he cut her off immediately with a sharper voice. "This isn't some kid's bedroom. Flower-print bedsheets? Teddy bears? Fucking teddy bears, really?" He ran his hand through his hair again, frustrated. "You're a grown ass woman, not a damn teenager decorating her dorm room."

Okay, this is definitely not the way she had thought he would react.

And the tone and words he used were harsh and she didn't like it a bit.

Her expression fell. "Jungkook… I didn't mean to upset you," she said softly, keeping her voice calm. "I just wanted the room to feel a bit more like home. It felt too stiff before. Like no one actually lived here."

"Well, I liked it the way it was," he snapped. "It was clean, simple, elegant. This…" he waved a hand around the room with visible contempt, "looks like a cheap Pinterest board. You completely ruined the vibe."

Evie bit her lip, trying not to take the words to heart. She'd put effort into it, definitely not to offend him, but to make the space feel shared. Lived-in. Loved.

"I wasn't trying to ruin anything," she said quietly, trying to make him understand. "I know you like things simple. I just thought maybe we could blend both our tastes. That's what people do when they live together."

He looked at her and she didn't need words to understand that he was annoyed. The irritation was clear on his face–the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes moved slowly around the room as if every soft detail personally offended him. She could almost feel the judgment in his silence before he even spoke.

"You could've at least asked before turning my room into this shitty dollhouse," he said sharply, the disgust in his tone louder than the actual insult.

The words hit harder than she expected. Not just because of what he said, but how he said it.

My room? Shitty dollhouse?

It wasn't like she had torn down walls or replaced his furniture. She had changed a bedsheet, added a few pillows, placed a couple of small decorative pieces. The way he exaggerated it made it sound as if she had rebuilt the entire house without permission. And that was what stung the most–the dismissal, the ownership in his words, as if she were just a guest here.

She straightened slightly, keeping her voice calm even though her chest felt tight. "It's our room," she corrected him gently, her tone steady and mature. "We're married, Jungkook. Please don't say things like that." She gestured lightly around them. "I just wanted to add a little softness. That doesn't mean I don't respect your preferences. And this isn't even a big change. You're exaggerating."

He didn't respond. He simply looked away, jaw clenched, the muscle ticking faintly near his temple. The silence felt tense than if he had argued back.

He walked toward the dresser and picked up one of the teddy bears. For a second, he just stared at it, turning it slowly in his hand as if trying to understand why it existed in his space. His expression hardened further. He muttered something under his breath–too low for her to catch clearly but the annoyance was obvious.

Evie inhaled slowly, trying to steady herself before speaking again. "If you don't like what I did, that's fine," she said carefully, her voice softer now but still composed. She refused to let it shake. "I can change it back. But just because it's not your taste doesn't mean you have to insult it. Everyone has different preferences. We should at least respect that."

Still, he didn't look at her. His eyes moved across the room again. Instead of softening, his irritation seemed to deepen.

"I don't want to hear any of that moral crap right now," he cut in coldly, not bothering to hide his frustration. "I didn't ask you to decorate anything. Clean this shit up while I'm in the bathroom. I don't want to sleep in this… whatever this is."

The teddy bear slipped from his hand and landed on the dresser carelessly, as if it meant nothing at all. Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked toward the bathroom. The door shut behind him with a sharp slam.

She didn't move at first.

For a few seconds she just stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the spot where he had been. Her throat felt tight, not only from hurt but from the anger rising inside her. It wasn't just that he disliked what she had done–that would have been manageable. It was the way he dismissed it. The way he made it sound foolish. As if her effort, her thought, her small attempt to make the space warmer had been something ridiculous.

Like she had no right.

Heat rose to her face—part anger, part humiliation.

She was human. And anyone would have felt insulted being spoken to like that.

Her hands slowly curled into fists at her sides. For a few seconds, she truly considered knocking on that bathroom door as a sharp reply sat on the tip of her tongue, she wanted to say something–anything what she felt. Ask him why everything had to be so harsh lately. Ask him why such a simple thing has to be that rude. Ask him why "my room" came so easily to him, but "our" never did.

But she could already see how it would end.

Raised voices. More anger. Arguments. Words they wouldn't be able to take back. And somehow, by the end of it, they would both be distant than before.

So she forced herself to breathe.

Matching anger with anger never fixed anything.

If one person was already being unreasonable, what was the point of doubling it? She told herself that maybe he wasn't used to sharing space. He had grown up with control, with things done his way, arranged his way. Maybe adjustment didn't come naturally to him. Maybe compromise was still a foreign language. Adjusting was probably unfamiliar too.

That didn't excuse the rudeness, and she refused to pretend it did but thinking about it that way made the sting dull slightly. It made it less personal.

Without another word, she walked back to the bed.

The pastel floral bedsheet that had made her smile earlier now felt almost out of place. She removed it carefully, folding it along the creases. The grey one returned to its place, smooth and cold.

One by one, the pillows followed. The embroidered one. The small heart-shaped one and placed it inside the cupboard..The photo frames came down from the wall. She wrapped them in paper and placed them back into the box.

The teddy bears were last.

She picked up the smaller one–the old one she had kept since collegeThen she placed it inside the box gently.

By the time she finished, the room looked exactly as it had before. Perfectly arranged. Dark and minimal.

Impersonal.

She stood there for a second, staring at it. The space no longer felt like it had judged her. Now it simply felt empty.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Jungkook stepped out with a towel in his hand, his hair still damp, droplets sliding down to his collarbone. He paused for a brief second and glanced around the room. His gaze swept over the bed, the dresser, the walls. He gave a short nod, almost absentmindedly, as if confirming that things had returned to their "proper" order.

No apology. No acknowledgment.

He walked past her without saying anything and headed downstairs.

Evie followed after a moment, quietly.

If he believed he hadn't done anything wrong, then there was no point forcing a conversation. And she wasn't in the mood to carry it either. Not until he understood how unnecessarily harsh he had been.

Dinner was already set on the table. They sat across from each other and began eating.

He didn't mention what had happened upstairs. Not even indirectly.

It was as if the entire incident had been erased from his memory.

The only sounds between them were the light sound of cutlery against plates.

And somehow, that silence felt louder than any argument could have been.

⋆༺𓆩♱𓆪༻⋆𝔙 𝔦 𝔰 𝔦 𝔬 𝔫  𝔦 𝔫  𝔇 𝔞 𝔯 𝔨⋆༺𓆩♱𓆪༻⋆

Days went by like that. Jungkook's moods were unpredictable–some days he was calm and quiet, other days he seemed irritated for no reason. But after that night, when he had snapped at her about the room, he acted like nothing had happened. He didn't say sorry or bring it up again. It was as if the outburst had never happened.

Evie didn't push it either. She just shrugged it off, convincing herself that it wasn't worth starting a fight over. Deep down, she still believed time would fix things. That eventually, he'd adjust… and maybe things would slowly get better between them.

Weeks passed.

Their routine settled into something that felt... okay. Not great, not romantic, but livable. Jungkook still had his ups and downs. He often came home late and left early in the morning. Sometimes he ate the breakfast she made, sometimes he skipped it without saying anything. He rarely picked up her calls during work hours or replied to her messages, but she didn't take it personally. She understood he had a demanding job.

But she couldn't help but notice how much he'd changed.

His personality had shifted so much, it felt like he wasn't the same person anymore. His mood swings made things harder to read. And honestly, Evie couldn't understand how work pressure could change someone this much.

Which is purely insane.

The only time he showed any kind of interest or energy was at night—when they were in bed together.

They were intimate often and while it was passionate, it also felt like that was the only part where he fully connected with her for now. Outside the bedroom, he was distant, sometimes cold. There were no cuddles afterward, no soft conversations.

Just complete silence from his side.

Still, Evie kept trying in her own way.

Today was his birthday.

As his wife, she wanted to make it special–not anything too grand or over-the-top, because she knew Jungkook wasn't into those kinds of romantic gestures. He found them cheesy, even cringey. So she planned something simple and fun. Something that could help him relax.

She thought about taking him out in the evening–maybe to a quiet place in the city or somewhere scenic. Just a little break from the usual stress, a lighthearted outing where they could talk, laugh, or at least spend time together without the weight of everything else.

She wanted to see him smile–a genuine one, not forced or tired.

It was still early in the morning. The sky outside was soft with the first light of dawn. Evie had woken up early to make him a nice breakfast. She wanted him to start the day with something warm and thoughtful.

Now she was in the kitchen, moving quietly as she prepared the food. The smell of delicious food filled the space. She was trying to make it special, full of care.

She wasn't sure if he was still sleeping or had already gotten up, she hadn't heard anything from upstairs. She had quietly peeked into the room earlier and softly called his name, but he didn't respond, so she assumed he was either still asleep or slowly getting ready.

Evie looked at the table once more, making sure everything was in place. She brushed her hands against her apron and smiled to herself.

A few minutes later, she heard the soft sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Jungkook walked in, already dressed for the day. His suit fit him perfectly, crisp and sharp, his hair neatly styled. He looked fresh, composed and handsome, as always. For a second, she simply watched him, a small smile forming on her lips.

"You're up early," she said lightly, leaning against the counter. "And already dressed? I was going to wake you."

He adjusted his cuff slightly and looked at her, a faint curve touching his lips. "Couldn't sleep much," he replied calmly. "Big day."

There was something softer in his tone today, less tension. It didn't go unnoticed.

She walked a little closer, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. "Good morning," she added gently.

"Morning," he responded, his voice quieter than usual.

There was a brief pause between them, comfortable rather than strained. She took one more step forward, close enough to reach him. Without overthinking it, she lifted her hand and lightly straightened his tie, even though it didn't really need fixing.

"Happy birthday," she said then, her voice warm and sincere, softer than before.

He stilled slightly at her words.

For a second, he just looked at her. And then, slowly, a real smile appeared on his face, genuine. "You remembered," he said, almost amused, almost surprised.

She smiled at him. "Of course I remembered. Did you think I wouldn't?"

He gave a small huff of laughter and shook his head. "No… I just didn't think anyone would make a big deal out of it."

She didn't respond with words immediately. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. A simple, quiet hug. He hesitated for half a second before his arms came around her too, resting securely at her back.

"Sixteen candles don't show up by accident," she murmured softly near his shoulder.

He chuckled quietly at that and pulled back just enough to look at her. "You're being unusually nice today."

"It's a special occasion," she replied with a small smile. "I'm allowed."

She moved toward the table and gestured lightly. "I made breakfast. Your favorite."

He followed her gaze and looked at the spread she had prepared. Just the dishes he liked most, arranged neatly. His expression softened again.

"You didn't have to do all this," he said, though his tone lacked any real protest.

"I wanted to," she answered simply.

He pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up his fork as he looked at the food again. "It looks good," he admitted, glancing at her once more. "Thank you."

And somehow, in that quiet kitchen, with morning light, no tension between them for once. For a few minutes, the room was peaceful. He scrolled through his phone in between bites while she quietly poured his coffee and sat across from him, watching him eat.

She hesitated a little, then gently brought it up. "I was thinking…" she began softly. "Maybe if you're not too busy today, you could come home a little early? We could go out somewhere in the evening—nothing too much, just... something nice."

Jungkook didn't respond immediately. He kept looking at his phone, but she could tell he heard her. After a few seconds, he sighed lightly and set the phone down for a moment.

"You know I'm not really into birthdays," he said casually, just stating what he felt. "That stuff's for kids."

Evie smiled, trying not to let her excitement fade. "I know you say that… but still. It's your day. Doesn't have to be big, just something to make you feel good. Maybe a quiet place, some fresh air... I think it would be nice."

He looked at her, and for a brief second, she thought he might say no. But then he nodded slightly with a smile. "I'll try to come home early," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

Even that small promise was enough to make her smile.

But the moment didn't last long, he glanced at the time and quickly stood up. "Shit, I'm running late," he muttered, grabbing his jacket.

He didn't finish the rest of his breakfast, just took one last sip of coffee before heading toward the door.

He turned to her before stepping out, paused for a second, then leaned down and gave her a small kiss on her lips.

"Thanks… for this," he said quietly.

And then he was gone.

Evie stood by the door for a moment after he left, watching the empty hallway. Her heart felt light, even if the moment had been brief. She knew he wasn't perfect but he had smiled… and he remembered to thank her. For now, that was enough.

After he left for work that morning, the house fell quiet once again. Evie sat down at the dining table, now alone and slowly began to eat the breakfast she had made for both of them.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Evie kept herself busy with house chores at first, but her mind was already moving toward the evening. She opened her wardrobe, going through dresses one by one, trying to decide what to wear tonight.

After some thought, she picked a soft wine-colored dress–elegant and glamourous. She wanted to look beautiful, but not overdo it. This night was important for her. She hoped it would be a chance to reconnect with Jungkook, even if it was just for a little while.

He had been so distant lately. Always busy, always tired. He barely spoke to her except for basic conversations. Still, she kept telling herself it was just stress, just work, just a phase. And she really wanted him to ease from all his stress.

By the afternoon, she had already started preparing–doing her hair, applying makeup and already decided what they were going to do tonight. She didn't want anything fancy, just as Jungkook preferred, just a peaceful evening with the man she married.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jungkook sat in his office chair, legs crossed as he stared blankly at the screen, scrolling through messages without much focus. The atmosphere around him was casual, as a couple of his office friends barged into the room without knocking.

"Let's go, birthday boy," one of them said with a grin, tossing his car keys in the air. "You're not rotting in here all night."

"I've got work," Jungkook replied lazily, not lifting his eyes from his phone.

"Cut the crap. It's your birthday. You think the world's gonna fall apart if you leave the office a little early?" another added.

Jungkook smirked at their persistence. Honestly, he didn't care much about birthdays but he also didn't care about staying back in the office either. With a half-shrug, he stood up and grabbed his coat. "Fine. Just drinks. Not staying all night."

As he stepped into the elevator, his phone buzzed in his hand. He frowned slightly, glancing down at the screen. The name flashing there made his expression shift.

Raven.

He raised a brow.

Holy shit.

He opened the message.

—[Raven]Come over tonight.Let's make your birthday unforgettable.I'm waiting.

A slow smirk pulled at his lips.

Damn. Now that was a birthday offer.

That woman knew exactly how to turn his dull mood into something dangerously exciting. She always did. No drama. Just pure, uncomplicated pleasure. He stared at the message for a few seconds, the corner of his mouth still curved upward.

He didn't overthink it. Obviously he didn't need to.

His fingers moved across the screen.

—[Jungkook]On my way, baby.

No guilt. No hesitation.

Obviously he's a man, a man with needs. Simple as that. And he wasn't going to pretend otherwise. There was no shame in choosing what satisfied him. Raven knew his body, knew exactly how to handle him, how to please him like it was her only purpose. With her, things were easy. Intense. Addictive.

With Evie… things have been dry lately. Tense and complicated.

He would be fucking stupid to skip this golden chance and go back home just for some soft birthday celebration shit. Yeah, Evie had mentioned coming home early for him. Something about outside dinner date. Maybe a cake. Whatever.

He wasn't in the mood for that.

He'd deal with it later.

Without a second thought, he opened Evie's chat and typed quickly.

—[Jungkook]Hey.Something came up.Might be home late.Urgent office work.

He hit send, didn't wait for her reply before locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket.

The elevator doors slid open, and he stepped out, already feeling the thrill of the night ahead.

†

Back at home, the evening turned into twilight. Evie, dressed and ready, waited with soft hope flickering in her eyes. The clock kept ticking, and every few minutes she glanced at her phone, expecting a call or a knock at the door.

When she couldn't wait anymore, she's too excited for it. She picked up her phone and dialed him.

It rang once. Twice. Then went silent.

He didn't pick up.

Her fingers nervously tapped against the phone screen as she stared at it, heart sinking slowly.

Moments later, his message popped up.

—[Jungkook]Hey. Something came up. Might be home late. Urgent office work.

She read the text twice. Then again. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she called him one more time. Again, he didn't answer.

Her heart dropped down, her excitement went away.

She sat down slowly on the couch. Still, she tried to be calm. Maybe he really had work. Maybe something urgent did come up. She told herself not to overthink it, not to assume the worst.

He said he'd be late, not that he wouldn't come at all. So she waited. She decided she would wait a little longer.

Because even after everything, she still had hope.

But as time dragged on, so did Evie's hope.

She stared at the clock—it was already past eleven.

Even if Jungkook came now, there wouldn't be any time to go out. The night was already slipping away.

She hadn't cooked anything earlier, holding onto the idea that maybe they'd eat out, maybe he had something planned. But clearly, that hope had been for nothing.

Her stomach ached a little with hunger, but it wasn't just that. It was the growing weight in her chest—the kind that came with trying too hard, only to be left sitting alone in silence.

With a quiet sigh, she got up, walked to her room, and slowly changed out of the dress she'd picked so carefully. The one she thought he'd notice. The one she thought he'd like. She slipped into her usual clothes, a simple oversized tee and soft pajama pants.

In the kitchen, she reheated some leftover food, enough for herself and a plate for him–just in case he hadn't eaten. She told herself maybe he really did get caught up in work. That maybe he was stressed and overwhelmed and didn't mean to forget. Still, the disappointment stayed no matter how much she tried to reason with it.

She sat down at the table and quietly ate alone.

He must be busy. He must be drowning in deadlines.

But she had tried–she had done her part. She wanted to make his day special. She thought it might mean something. But now it was his choice. His birthday. His priorities.

And she couldn't force anyone to care.

Still, she waited. Just in case.

Midnight came and passed. The house was quiet again.

She eventually curled up on the couch, resting her head against the armrest. She didn't realize when her eyes closed–when exhaustion finally pushed her into a light sleep.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the quiet house, pulling Evie from her uneasy sleep on the couch. She blinked her eyes open, still groggy and disoriented, before slowly pushing herself up.

When she opened the door, there was Jungkook.

But he looked... different.

It wasn't just the messy hair or the tired eyes. It was his entire presence–the loosened buttons, his disheveled shirt, his tie hanging around his neck like he couldn't be bothered to fix it. The scent of a sharp, unfamiliar cologne clung to him–not the one he usually wore. There was a faint sheen on his skin, like he'd been physically active. Not from stress or work. From something else.

Something intimate.

"Hey, baby," he said casually, voice low and relaxed, way too relaxed.

Evie didn't respond. She just stood there, staring at him. Her gaze moved from his flushed face to disheveled clothes. Then to the smell—alcohol. And something else. Something she didn't want to name.

Jungkook's smile faded slightly when she didn't react the way he expected. He cleared his throat, trying to sound light, as if he could explain it all away.

"I know I messed up. I really am sorry," he began. "There was this urgent thing at work. Everything just piled up at once, my head was spinning. I didn't mean to disappoint you, Evie. You told me to come early and I swear I was trying…"

She kept staring at him, her arms still at her sides, not letting him in. The disappointment in her eyes was quiet but fully noticeable. And it was only growing the longer she looked at him.

"You're drunk," she said flatly.

Jungkook hesitated, his jaw tensing for a second before he gulped and forced a breathy chuckle. "Not really. I mean… my friends came to the office. They brought dinner and... some drinks. I didn't even want to, but you know how they are. They forced it. They're just too much sometimes."

Still, she didn't say a word. Instead, she turned silently and walked back inside, leaving the door open behind her.

Jungkook followed, shutting the door lazily with one hand. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of the sofa like he always did, then loosened his tie and threw that too. His movements were careless, as if the weight of the night didn't belong to him.

He found her standing by the kitchen, back turned to him.

Without warning, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his chest into her back in a slow, firm hug. His hands moved along her waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against her hair.

"I know you're upset," he murmured. "And I'm really sorry for screwing this up. I hate seeing you like this, baby."

She stood still in his hold, quiet.

"I'll make it up to you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, slow and deliberate. "We'll celebrate again, okay? My way. Just the two of us. I'll spend my time with my wife properly…"

His voice dropped lower, more suggestive now, and his hands moved with a certain intent—definitely not for comfort or apology, but of desire.

Evie's hands reached up and tried to pull him off.

"Let me go," she said, voice quiet but clear.

He didn't.

He tightened his arms around her instead, lips grazing her shoulder as he tried again. "Come on, baby... don't push me away. It's still my birthday, isn't it?"

Her patience cracked just slightly.

"You're drunk," she said, firmer this time. She pried his arms off her and turned around to face him seriously.

"Go change. You stink of alcohol and smoke and don't touch me like this."

That tone, firm and dismissive, was hit directly at his pride. He stood there for a second, unmoving. His expression hardened–jaw tightening, lips flattening.

He wasn't used to being turned down.

Without another word, Jungkook turned away and walked toward the bedroom, his footsteps heavy on the floor. The door shut behind him, louder than it needed to be.

Evie stayed in the same spot, her hands still resting on her sides.

She let out a long breath, one that had been sitting in her chest for hours. Her throat tightened, but no tears came.

She really had tried.

Tried to make the day special. Tried to hold herself together. Tried to believe that maybe, just maybe, he'd come home for her—not just to her.

But it was getting harder to ignore what was right in front of her.

And harder to pretend it wasn't breaking her a little more each time.

★ ★ ★

—𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾         𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍···୨ৎ