† 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟵 †

╭─━─━─━─━─━─╮𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟵†❝𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗘𝗦❞╰─━─━─━─━─━─╯

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

It was early morning.

Evie stood in the kitchen, quietly moving around as she made herself breakfast. She had woken up before the sun, unable to sleep any longer. Jungkook was still passed out on the sofa, the same spot where they'd both slept last night or at least tried to.

Her back ached. She had barely moved during the night, stuck in one position, pressed up against him the whole time. It wasn't comfortable, but she hadn't been able to leave. He wouldn't let her.

Part of her loved his presence–the way he clung to her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. But last night wasn't like other nights. Last night hurt.

He was the one who made her cry. The one who pushed her to the edge. And then, like always, he apologized… held her close… whispered soft things in her ear. Said he was changing. Said he needed time. Promised again it wouldn't happen next time. But somehow, it always happened again.

Now, she was making breakfast only for herself. Hunger had woken her early–a sharp reminder that she barely ate the night before. Just a few bites of pasta Jungkook had made and forced her to eat. It wasn't that good, but she ate it anyway. This morning, her stomach was growling.

As she stirred eggs in the pan, her mind kept circling around the same thought—why couldn't he just stay soft with her?

She didn't mind if he was busy. She never demanded too much of his time. All she wanted was a little kindness, just a few minutes of real, gentle conversation. Not the mood swings, not the cold attitude that turned into forced apologies and half-hearted promises.0

She missed the version of him from last night–the clingy, stubborn one who refused to let her go, even when she pushed him. The one who held her like she was the most important thing in his world.

She sighed, wondering how today would go. Would it be one of his good days? Or would it be like before?

Just then, she heard a groan from the living room, it's Jungkook.

He was waking up.

His footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen. He looked tired, rubbing his neck with one hand, his face scrunched up like he was in pain.

"Ugh, my back…" he mumbled to himself, walking in with messy hair and half-closed eyes. He poured himself a glass of water, taking a long sip before finally looking around and noticing her.

Without saying a word, he walked straight to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Evie flinched at the sudden touch, trying to pull away a little, but he didn't move. She stayed quiet, stiff in his hold, doing her best to ignore him.

He rested his face in the crook of her neck, still sleepy, his voice low and raspy. "Good morning," he whispered.

She didn't reply. She shifted slightly again, trying to shake him off, but he held on tighter.

"You're up early," he said, his lips brushing against her skin. "You didn't have to stress yourself with cooking. I said I'd do the housework today. Punishment, remember?"

"I'm cooking for myself," she replied in a quiet but firm voice. "I was hungry."

He chuckled softly behind her and only tightened his grip, his arms locking around her waist.

Still holding the pan, Evie tried to push his hands away. "Jungkook—"

"Still mad at me?" he asked, leaning his cheek against her shoulder.

She didn't respond.

But that didn't stop him.

"I already apologized, didn't I?" he said, his tone playful but a little tired. "Guess I'll just have to try harder today."

Jungkook stayed wrapped around her like a blanket, ignoring every little attempt she made to get out of his grip. She sighed in frustration, refusing to meet his eyes, still focused on the half-cooked eggs in the pan. That's when he spoke, his voice softer but still carrying that cocky undertone.

"By the way," he said casually, like it was no big deal, "I told you last night, remember? I'm taking you on a honeymoon."

Evie blinked but didn't say anything. Her hands froze for a second. Last night she thought he was just saying things to calm her down–throwing random sweet words in the middle of her breakdown to make her stop crying. She hadn't taken the honeymoon part seriously. He always said things in the heat of the moment, and most of the time they didn't mean much the next day.

He continued, "We've been married for almost two months now, and we haven't even had a proper honeymoon. Not even a weekend getaway. I planned it specially for you. Somewhere out of the country. You can pick the place... France, maybe?"

Evie didn't answer, but she was definitely caught off guard because it was not something she'd expected. Still, she didn't want to give in–not when she was still hurting from the way he treated her just the day before. She finally spoke, her voice low and distant. "I don't want to go anywhere."

She tried wriggling out of his hold, but Jungkook only chuckled softly and held her tighter, pressing his chest against her back. "As if you had a choice," he said, almost in a teasing tone.

She turned her head slightly, about to snap back at him, but he was quick to act. He reached past her and turned off the stove, then gently but firmly turned her around to face him. His arms caged her in against the counter, and before she could step away, he pulled her close again, not giving her any room to escape.

"I already said I'm sorry," he murmured, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face. "You're still mad at me?"

Evie stared at him, frustrated and tired. She was emotionally drained, and every time he acted like this–overly sweet, overly clingy–it made her feel even more confused. Like she was constantly being pulled in two directions.

"I even took the entire week off," he added, resting his forehead lightly against hers. "Just for you. I want to spend every second beside you. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, sofa, outside the house, outside the country—everywhere. I'll stick so close, you'll start getting sick of me."

He gave a small smirk, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but his words–while sounding playful–carried an edge of manipulation he masked too well. He wasn't outright demanding, but he made it sound like this was all for her. Like she should feel special.

Evie scoffed, trying to keep herself from softening too fast. "And what's the point?" she said bitterly. "You still don't know how to talk properly. You don't think before saying hurtful things. You snap the second something that upsets you, and then you act like this the next day–trying to fix everything with sweet words and hugs."

Jungkook's face softened slightly, and his hand moved to the side of her neck. "I know," he said, his voice calm. "I messed up. I say stupid things when I'm angry. I get overwhelmed, I shut down… I know it hurts you."

His tone was too good–almost too smooth. He always knew exactly what to say to soften her edges.

"I've been under pressure lately," he added, his thumb rubbing gentle circles near her jaw. "Work's been exhausting. I needed peace too, just like you do. So I thought, maybe a trip would be good for both of us. Somewhere far away. Just you and me. No fights, no stress. Just… time."

Before she could argue, he leaned in and kissed her–soft at first, then firmer when she tried to push him away. She struggled against him for a few seconds, but like always, his touch weakened her resolve. It was the way he held her like he'd fall apart if she left. The way he whispered her name in between breaths. The way his arms wrapped around her as if she was the only thing he wanted to hold onto.

She didn't want to give in so easily, but her body betrayed her. Her hands that were pushing at his chest slowly relaxed, resting against him. And once again, he managed to melt her anger into silence.

"I promise," he whispered against her lips, "I'll do better. I won't hurt you again."

Evie stayed still, torn between her heart and her head. She didn't fully believe him. Not yet. But at that moment, she didn't pull away either.

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

The plane was dimly lit with soft lights as passengers in the business class cabin settled in for the long flight.

Jungkook and Evie were seated together, side by side in their reserved seats, on their way to France—the honeymoon destination Jungkook had picked himself.

He had asked for her opinion earlier, pretending it was a mutual decision, but she hadn't cared much about the location. Paris, Rome, London—none of it mattered to her.

The only thing she wanted was peace. A week without crying. A week without yelling. A week where Jungkook wouldn't switch into that cold, rude, emotionally dead version of himself that made her feel like a ghost in her own marriage. So when he brought up the trip again, actually sounding serious this time, she had finally agreed.

It had been a full week since that morning in the kitchen–a full week where, surprisingly, Jungkook hadn't lost his temper. He hadn't lashed out or gone silent. He had been oddly… patient.

Too patient. Like he was trying to prove something, or maybe keep her from walking away.

Whatever it was, she accepted the silence, the stability, and the chance to escape the suffocating air of their house. She had told him to wait a week so they could prepare, and to her surprise, he listened. Even though he had piles of work waiting for him, he still cleared his schedule and booked the trip. It was rare for him to push work aside for anything–let alone her–so a part of her wanted to believe this trip might actually help them.

That maybe, without anyone watching or interfering, he might see her for real… and maybe, just maybe, try to understand her.

Now, they were on the plane, finally on their way. She sat beside him by the window, her body tired, her emotions drained from weeks of trying to keep it all together. Her head gently leaned against his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his forearm. She just wanted to feel close–just for a little while. He didn't pull away, didn't even react much, which in her book was a win.

He was focused on his phone, typing something, probably office-related. He had gotten a few work calls before takeoff, and she hadn't minded. She knew he'd left a lot behind to make this trip happen. If this was him trying, she'd meet him halfway.

She closed her eyes and let herself breathe, the quiet hum of the cabin pulling her closer to sleep. But what she didn't notice—and maybe didn't want to know—was the way her husband's attention slowly shifted from his phone to the cabin crew.

As the female flight attendants began passing out dinner trays, one of them–tall, sleek, the kind of woman with curves that turned heads and a smile too sharp to be innocent–stopped by their row.

She handed Jungkook his tray, and he looked up at her. His eyes lingered a little too long. Not at her face, but a few inches lower.

She noticed.

Of course, she did.

Women like her always noticed when men looked at them like that. And Jungkook wasn't subtle—he never had been.

His stare was bold, borderline dirty.

The kind that didn't care if it was disrespectful, or if his wife was sitting right fucking there. His lips curved into a faint smirk as she handed him the tray, and the flight attendant gave a small, knowing smile in return, like she was enjoying the attention.

Evie stirred slightly beside him, still holding onto his arm, her head resting peacefully on his shoulder. She had declined the food politely, murmuring that she wasn't hungry–lunch had been enough and she just wanted to sleep.

So she slept, completely unaware that the man she was clutching onto like a lifeline was too busy undressing another woman with his eyes. His gaze casually followed the attendant as she walked away, checking her out from behind, his eyes trailing her tight uniform and her big ass like he had no fucking shame.

He didn't have shame. Not really.

Later, sometime mid-flight, Jungkook unbuckled his seatbelt, carefully guiding Evie's head to rest against the window as she slept. Making sure she was comfortable, he got up to use the washroom.

As he walked down the aisle, his eyes found the same flight attendant again. She was restocking something at the back near the galley, and as he passed her, he made sure to throw a look her way–slow, intentional, laced with amusement.

She glanced at him, lips twitching into a playful smirk. He didn't say anything at first. Just gave her that look. The one that said he was trouble and he knew she liked it.

As he stepped closer to pass by, his hand brushed lightly against her lower back–almost accidental… but not quite.

"Didn't expect to get served a view like that mid-air," he said, voice smooth and cocky.

The flight attendant raised her brow, clearly amused. "Didn't expect a man with a wife beside him to notice," she replied in the same quiet tone, glancing toward the sleeping figure back in the seat.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, leaning just a fraction closer than appropriate.

"You don't seem like you mind being noticed," he added, voice dipping slightly, teasing.

She tilted her head, clearly entertained now. "And you don't seem like the type who cares if he should behave. That kind of confidence usually gets people in trouble."

Jungkook smirked, his fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the counter beside her–close enough to brush her hand again, intentional this time.

"I don't mind trouble," he replied. "Gets boring otherwise."

For a second, the air between them charged.

Then, just as casually, he pulled back like nothing had happened and continued walking before giving her a wink.

He used the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, fixed his hair, and came back like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, Evie stayed curled up in her seat, fast asleep and clutching onto the arm that had just flirted with another woman. She had no idea. She probably thought he was just catching up on work, or tired, or zoned out. She had no fucking idea that her husband was too goddamn bored to even pretend to behave for a few hours.

Time passed. The cabin lights dimmed even further and the plane hummed steadily as it flew across time zones. Evie dozed peacefully, unaware of the storm sitting next to her.

Jungkook had his phone out again, scrolling, texting, who knows what–maybe work, maybe not. He'd steal a glance every now and then at that same crew member when she passed by. His smirk never really left.

The plane hadn't even taken off when she placed her hope in the trip. She had told herself maybe this week would be different. That maybe he'd try. Maybe he'd love her right.

But love like his always came with strings.

And right now, she was sleeping through the first tangle of them.

†

The plane finally landed in France early in the morning. The city was just starting to wake up as they stepped off, and the airport buzzed with a mix of tourists, businesspeople and families dragging luggage behind them.

Evie was wide awake by now, eyes quietly soaking in everything around her. She wasn't trying look too much excited, but deep down, she felt something good–something light–like maybe this trip might actually give her the peace she'd been craving.

A whole different country, a new vibe, and most importantly, time alone with him. No calls, no house chores, no work stress—just them. Together. That's what she cared about.

But Jungkook? He was half-dead from lack of sleep. Not because of the flight, not because of jet lag but because he had spent half the night flirting with that damn flight attendant, letting his eyes undress her every time she walked by, zoning in on her ass like a hungry fucker who hadn't eaten in days.

He didn't get much rest. Not just because of the crew, but because his mind was always busy–with thoughts, distractions, attention-seeking bullshit that never left him alone.

Now, walking through the airport, he was dragging his feet a little, yawning here and there, but his eyes? Fully alert. Not on Evie. Not even for a second. But on the people around him—especially the women.

He scanned them without even trying to hide it. His gaze was sharp, bored, like someone flipping through TV channels when there's nothing good on. He looked women up and down shamelessly, rating them in his head like it was his favorite game—

hot,

bad bitch,

mid,

try-hard,

plain,

sexy,

forgettable,

too lame,

damn.

….And it goes like this.

It passed the time. And when he was bored of Evie—which was too often—this was the easiest way to keep himself entertained. He didn't care that she was walking beside him, all calm and happy about finally being here. She was sweet, sure. But too damn boring, too predictable, too safe. That wasn't enough to hold his attention. Not the kind of attention he gave those other women.

And the worst part?

He knew exactly how to keep up the act. He wasn't stupid. He knew how to play the role of the good husband when it mattered. Knew when to smile, when to nod, when to hold her hand if needed.

But his real attention was always elsewhere–on whatever the fuck he found interesting in that moment. And today? That was anything in a skirt walking through Terminal C.

He wasn't dressed to impress, not really. Just loose jeans, a slightly wrinkled shirt with a few of the top buttons undone, like he didn't even try–but he didn't have to.

Jungkook didn't need effort. He knew he looked good. That messy, "don't-give-a-shit" style worked for him.

Women stared. They always did.

And he loved it. Loved the way their eyes followed him when he walked by.

Loved the way some of them smiled or fixed their hair when he looked their way. He noticed it all. And he always returned the favor with a glance or a crooked smirk. A silent "I see you"—even if his wife was standing right next to him.

They finally reached the hotel, a fancy but quiet spot in the heart of the city. The check-in was smooth, and they were escorted to their room. Evie was still talking, her voice soft but happy as she pointed out the little things, how cute the room looked, how big the windows were, what they could do later in the day.

She asked if they should go out for breakfast, maybe walk around, check out the nearby places. But Jungkook just dropped onto the bed like his bones had given up. He didn't even answer her right away, just grunted something and rolled onto his side.

Evie didn't take it personally. She knew flights could be tiring, and she'd seen how stressed he was the past week trying to wrap up work before this trip. He had barely rested on the plane either, probably finishing his office stuff while she slept on his arm. So she let it go. "Let him sleep," she thought, and gently walked around the room, unpacking a few things.

And obviously she didn't want to go anywhere without him. She didn't want to explore alone, not today. Not on their first day here. So instead, she laid down beside him, slipping under the covers and resting her head close to his chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him softly like he was still hers–like he still felt like home. He didn't move much, probably already half asleep, but she didn't mind.

She smiled to herself, that small excited smile people get when they really want to believe something good is about to start.

She had no idea what was really going on in his head, and honestly? She didn't want to think about it. Not right now. Not when she finally felt close to him after weeks of distance.

So she hugged him tighter and closed her eyes, quietly hopeful. Because maybe this trip would change something.

She just didn't know that while she was busy loving him quietly, he was busy being everything but the man she hoped he'd be.

†

By evening, the energy in the hotel room had shifted. Evie was in front of the mirror, putting the final touches on her makeup, her eyes with focus but her stomach flipping a little with nerves.

She had slept well–the entire morning had melted into the afternoon next to Jungkook, and by the time they'd had a late lunch, the day had already slipped halfway by. Jungkook had stayed lazy most of the day, lounging on the bed like he owned the whole damn room and the city too.

But as the sky started turning orange, he finally got up and said, almost casually, that they should head out–at least do something so the day didn't go to waste.

Evie didn't know where exactly they were going. He hadn't told her, just said it would be "casual, nothing fancy." So she decided to take a small risk with her outfit.

She slipped into a black strappy dress–not too long, not too tight, but definitely something bolder than she usually wore. A little bit glamorous, with a neckline that dipped just enough to make her feel sexy, and a hemline that hugged her thighs.

It wasn't her usual vibe, but she figured maybe it was time to try something new–especially with Jungkook, who always seemed so effortlessly confident and bold. Maybe this would impress him and take all his attention.

And she wasn't wrong.

Jungkook walked out of the bathroom just as she was adjusting her hair. His wet hair was slicked back lazily with a bit of gel, but a few damp strands had fallen forward on his forehead, giving him that effortlessly dangerous look he somehow always carried.

He wore just a plain fitted t-shirt and dark pants with black leather jacket–simple, casual, but his body made anything look good. His tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, and he looked like tempting sin, without even trying. And the moment his eyes landed on her?

He stopped.

Whistled low.

Then let out a slow, lazy smirk.

"Damn, wifey," he muttered, eyes dragging from her legs to her chest without a hint of shame. "If I knew you were gonna dress like this, I wouldn't have planned anything at all tonight."

Her breath hitched.

He tilted his head, stepped behind her, and leaned in close–his voice dropping into that deep, husky tone that made her skin crawl with heat. "Might just cancel the plan and bend you over right here, fuck that pretty brain of yours until you forget what city we're even in."

His words were blunt, filthy, and exactly like him–no filter, no hesitation. Just pure, raw lust.

Evie froze a little, her cheeks heating up instantly. She bit down on her lip and looked at him through the mirror, trying to keep her face neutral even though his words made her heart race.

This was Jungkook–always so damn unfiltered, always making her body react in ways she didn't want to admit. She cleared her throat, brushing him off with a half-smile as if it didn't affect her, even though her thighs instinctively pressed together.

"Can you stop this please and tell me first where exactly are we going tonight?" she asked, pretending like his hand wasn't now resting on her waist, fingers dragging a little too slow down her side.

"You'll see," he said casually, his lips brushing her ear before he gave her ass a quick, sharp smack. She gasped, turning her head, but he just grinned like it was the most normal thing to do. "It's a surprise."

After that, they both headed out–Jungkook had already booked a cab, and they settled inside. Evie was excited the entire time, expecting something romantic, like a couple's retreat or a candlelit dinner. Meanwhile, Jungkook smirked to himself, amused by her anticipation. 

Twenty minutes later, they were stepping out of a cab. Evie was smiling softly as she looked around, trying to figure out where they were. But the second her eyes caught the crowd gathering outside the building, her smile faded slightly.

The place was loud. Not just noisy–but loud.

The bass of music thumped through the ground even from the outside, like the whole building was alive with chaos. People were dressed in wild outfits–women in tiny dresses that left almost nothing to the imagination, men in tight shirts, leather jackets, chains, sunglasses even in the dark.

What the hell.

Laughter, shouting, the sound of drinks being poured–it wasn't a casual evening spot, not a romantic garden or beautiful dinner spot like she'd imagined. It was... looking like a damn club. A fucking club. A big one.

Evie turned sharply toward Jungkook, her face slightly scrunched in confusion. "What is this place?"

Jungkook looked excited, like a kid walking into his favorite arcade. "It's a party spot. Pretty famous, actually. I came here once with my boys on a trip a few years back. It was fun as hell." His eyes scanned the crowd like he was already tasting the night, already soaking in the wild.

Evie blinked. "You brought me to a club?"

He looked at her and shrugged. "Yeah. What's the big deal?"

"I thought we were going to some couple place. Or dinner. This doesn't look... I mean, it's not what I thought," she said, her voice quieter now, uncertain. This place didn't feel like her–it felt loud, like she didn't belong here.

Jungkook laughed under his breath, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, his lips brushing the side of her head as he leaned in. "Relax. It's harmless. Chill place. You're with me, yeah? Trust me. You'll like it."

But Evie looked around again–at the way some of the women were dressed, practically half-naked. On the way men grabbed their waists, grinding into them before even stepping inside. At the glowing signboard that read 'WILD NIGHTS' in bold red lights like a damn warning. It didn't feel like a place for a married couple. It felt like a bachelor's last night of freedom.

"This feels like a bachelor party club," she said, unsure whether she was joking or not.

Jungkook just chuckled, tightening his grip on her waist. "Nah, baby. Married people come to places like this too. You just gotta loosen up."

She looked at him, unsure what to believe–his smile, or her own gut. But either way, he was already pulling her toward the entrance.

Jungkook didn't give Evie a chance to argue anymore. He simply wrapped his hands around her shoulder, grinning like a carefree teenager, and dragged her inside the building before she could protest further.

She was nervous as they entered, and immediately the loud thumping of music hit her. The inside was exactly what she feared it would be–dark, crowded, flashing lights, heavy bass, and a sea of bodies grinding against each other. The club was wild. There was no other way to describe it.

No—this didn't feel right.

Women in barely-there clothes danced without hesitation, while men watched, drank, and touched like it was all normal. Her eyes instinctively searched for Jungkook beside her, confusion and disbelief settling deep inside her. This wasn't the kind of place married people came to—not like this, not together.

It felt wrong in a way she couldn't fully explain, the reality of it made her stomach turn.

Evie tugged his arm, trying to pull him back. "This isn't a good place, Jungkook," she said, frowning as her eyes scanned the chaotic scene. "I told you I don't like this. It's a bachelor-type club. It's not for married people. What are we doing here?"

But Jungkook only smirked and leaned down toward her, his voice smooth and casual. "Babe, chill. It's just a night out. I'm not here with other women, I'm here with you. We're just enjoying ourselves. You don't have to act like it's a crime." His arm wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her closer, whispering near her ear. "It's not a big deal unless you make it one."

She tried to stay calm, tried to keep her discomfort hidden, but the place was too much for her.

Men were eyeing women like they were meals, some openly staring, some even licking their lips. The entire atmosphere felt wild, inappropriate. If she had known they were coming to a place like this, she would have never worn what she had on now.

Even though her black dress was fancy and bold by her standards, it suddenly felt like nothing compared to what the other women were wearing. Still, she felt overly exposed. And she hated the way the men's eyes skimmed over her body like they owned the right to look.

She instinctively moved closer to Jungkook, grabbing onto his arm, her body stiff with tension. "Let's not stay long," she muttered under her breath, eyes scanning the crowd uncomfortably. "This is really not my kind of place."

But Jungkook didn't seem to care. In fact, he looked like he was loving it. His eyes roamed freely, head turning here and there, lips twitching in amusement at the wild things happening on the dance floor.

He looked energized–like this was his scene. His kind of place. His kind of people.

She could feel it–the shift in attention. A few men nearby glanced at her, their eyes lingering a second too long, some subtle, some not even trying to hide it.

It made her skin crawl. Suddenly, she became too aware of herself—the dress she was wearing, the way it hugged her body, the amount of skin it showed. If she had known where he was bringing her, she would have never worn this. Not here. Not like this. Regret settled heavily in her chest as she pressed herself closer to Jungkook, almost hiding behind him.

And he noticed.

Of course he did.

A slow smirk curved on his lips as he glanced down at her, his arm sliding around her waist and pulling her even close– possessively, like he was displaying her rather than shielding her.

He found it amusing. The way she shrank under the attention, the way she clung to him, uncomfortable and unsure—it entertained him more than it should have.

"Come on," he added casually, nodding slightly toward the crowd. "Don't look so nervous. You look better than half the people here. Let them see."

Evie turned her face toward him, confusion and disbelief clear in her expression, her brows knitting together as she tried to process what he meant.

Her grip on him tightened slightly.

"…What?" She whispered, almost not understanding.

Jungkook leaned in just enough for his words to reach her clearly, his tone dropping into something more direct, more unapologetic.

"Let them look," he said. "Let them see what's mine."

Her breath caught.

For a second, she just stared at him, like she hadn't heard him right.

"Jungkook… are you serious? What …are you even saying?" she asked quickly, her voice low but tense, disbelief written all over her face.

But he wasn't even looking at her anymore.

His eyes moved across the room, scanning the crowd, taking it all in like he belonged there more than anyone else.

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" he said casually. "Don't act innocent. The dress you wore—what do you think it does?"

The words hit her harder than she expected.

Her lips parted slightly, but nothing came out at first.

"I thought…" she started, her voice quieter now, almost unsure. "I thought we were going on a romantic date. I wore it for you."

Jungkook let out a small, almost amused breath.

"Oh, come on. Don't be lame," he said, glancing at her again with that same careless smirk. "Be bold for once. Let everyone see you. Let them know you're mine."

Something twisted uncomfortably in her stomach.

The noise around her suddenly felt louder, heavier, pressing into her head until it almost hurt. The lights, the people, the stares—it all became too much at once.

Before she could even respond, Jungkook gently guided her toward the bar, his hand resting on her lower back as if this was just another normal night out, nothing unusual, nothing wrong.

He motioned for her to sit.

She hesitated for a second before slowly taking the stool, her arms crossing over herself as her eyes moved around the club again, uncertain and visibly uncomfortable.

Jungkook didn't ask what she wanted.

He simply ordered, a non-alcoholic drink for her and something stronger for himself.

Like everything else tonight—it wasn't really a choice.

He stood beside her, leaning casually against the counter, took his drink in hand. The lights flickered over his face, highlighting the smirk that hadn't left his lips since they walked in.

He was vibing–that was the only word for it.

Head slightly bobbing to the beat, eyes wandering the crowd. He soaked it all in–the flashing lights, the wild music, the women in tight dresses, the energy. And none of it sat well with Evie.

She sat stiff, sipping her drink slowly. Her eyes weren't on him. They were busy scanning the people around her, judging everything–the way women danced like they didn't care, the way men ogled them without shame, the smell of sweat and alcohol mixing in the air.

She looked like someone who accidentally walked into the wrong world. Her discomfort was clear, but Jungkook didn't bother to notice. He was in his zone.

While Evie frowned at a couple practically making out on the dance floor, Jungkook stood beside her, staring shamelessly at other women like he wasn't married at all.

His eyes locked on curves, bare backs, legs crossing and uncrossing–he didn't even hide it. It wasn't just staring. It was eye-fucking. And he didn't care that his wife was right beside him and she can also notice him.

Then, he felt it. A stare–different from the others. He looked across the room, and there she was.

A blonde.

Young. Hot. Confidence. A full-on baddie.

Her eyes were on him like she had chosen him out of everyone here. She didn't smile or anything just kept looking, cool and collected, like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her body leaned slightly against the wall, close enough for him to notice, far enough to not look obvious.

She acted like she was watching the dancers but her eyes flicked toward him now and then, intentional, unbothered.

She didn't need to try hard. She knew what she looked like.

Jungkook stared at her, eyes trailing her body slowly–her neckline, her waist, the curve of her hips, the way her dress hugged every inch of her. He didn't hide it. His eyes practically undressed her. There was no shame in how he watched her like she was something to be devoured. Like a man who hadn't eaten in days.

And Evie?

Still sitting there, still sipping her drink, feeling too uncomfortable by her surrounding, keep fixing her dress. She had no idea that her own husband was slowly getting pulled into something dangerous.

Her back was turned when the blonde shifted her weight, her fingers brushing through her hair in slow motion, then letting her hand slide over her thigh as she turned slightly–just enough for Jungkook to see the side of her leg. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and gave a small smirk.

An unspoken invitation.

She turned and started walking, her pace slow, hips swaying without effort. She didn't look back, didn't say a word but her message was loud and clear.

And Jungkook?

He looked at Evie for a second. She was still distracted, completely unaware of what was happening. That was all he needed.

He placed his drink down, casually, like he was just stretching his legs and then slipped into the crowd.

He followed the blonde inside, deeper into the club where the lights were lower and the energy even wilder. He spotted her at the end of the room, now standing near another bar, sipping her drink like she had all the time in the world. She didn't greet him. Just looked at him with that same amused smirk.

Jungkook walked up to her, slow, confident. He didn't say a word. Just reached out, grabbed her glass gently from her hand, and took a sip–right from her drink. His lips curved into a half-smile as he handed it back.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "You are bold," she said, her accent thick. French. Her English was rough, but it didn't matter. Her tone, her eyes, her body said everything she needed to say.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, still staring at her lips. "You didn't stop me."

"You are not... scared I may be a crazy woman?" she teased, stepping a little closer.

"I've been with worse," he said with a smirk.

She noticed the ring on his finger–her eyes dipped to it for a second but she didn't pull back. "You are taken?"

He looked down at his hand, like he forgot the ring was even there. "Yeah," he said casually, not even blinking. "But that doesn't mean I couldn't be thirsty."

That made her laugh. "You are a bad man."

"You don't even know the half of it," he muttered, voice dropping lower as he leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear.

His tone was dangerous, tempting. Like something forbidden you couldn't resist.

They stood there, their bodies slowly closing the distance without even touching. Her fingers grazed the side of his arm, slow and soft. She didn't need to pull him. He was already there.

Then she turned around, walking deeper into the darker side of the club. She didn't say anything, but the way she looked over her shoulder, the curve of her smile–it was all the invitation he needed.

Jungkook followed without hesitation.

And just like that, he disappeared into the shadows with her.

Leaving his wife alone at the bar.

Clueless. And loyal.

Evie sat exactly where Jungkook had left her, her arms still crossed, her back slightly hunched from the uncomfortable bar stool. The music was too loud. Her head was starting to ache, the dull, pulsing kind that makes your eyes sting.

The smell of sweat, alcohol, and perfume mixed in the air, only making it worse. She shifted in her seat, looking around briefly at the people dancing wildly, laughing, grinding on each other without shame. None of this felt fun to her. In fact, the longer she sat there, the more out of place she felt.

Without even looking at him, she muttered, "Jungkook, for how long are you planning to stay here? Let's leave a little early. The music's too loud... my head is killing me."

No response.

She frowned slightly and turned her head toward where he was standing just moments ago.

But the space was empty.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, scanning the area, expecting to see him talking to someone or maybe answering a call. But he wasn't there–not beside her, not near the bar. She stood up slowly, her eyes scanning left and right, thinking maybe he had stepped away for a minute. Maybe the restroom.

She walked a little away from the stool, peeking through the moving crowd, but it was hard to see clearly. People kept brushing past her. The place was too packed, and the flashing lights made it difficult to focus on any one face. Her heart beat a little faster as she's getting nervous.

Trying not to overthink, she walked back to the stool where she was sitting and sat down again. "He must have gone to the restroom," she whispered to herself, trying to stay calm. "He'll come back. Any second now."

She waited.

But he didn't return.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen.

Her chest began to tighten, her fingers curling nervously in her lap. She looked around again–this time slower, more carefully. Still no sign of him. She stood up once more and walked a bit farther into the crowd, calling his name softly at first. "Jungkook...?"

Still nothing.

Her stomach turned slightly. She realized something–she didn't have her phone. She had left it behind at the hotel because Jungkook had said he'd take care of everything. She hadn't even carried a purse tonight. No money. Nothing. She hadn't thought it was necessary. He was with her. She trusted him.

But now, she was starting to panic.

She moved deeper into the crowd, trying to push her way through, searching every corner with her eyes. The lights were too bright and too dark at the same time. Her head was spinning. The music got louder, bass thumping like it was beating against her chest. Her breathing started to get shallow. She looked around, turning in every direction, whispering then shouting his name louder. "Jungkook? Jungkook—where are you?!"

People were dancing, busy, completely unaware of her panic. She tried to keep herself calm but her heart was racing. She tried to walk toward the entrance, thinking maybe he had stepped outside for air, but as she made her way through the thick crowd, a man bumped into her–then another.

One of them turned to look at her with a drunk smile and stepped a little too close.

"Hey... you alone?" the man asked, his voice slurred.

Evie stepped back immediately, shaking her head. "No–stay away, I'm married. I'm here with my husband," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice steady.

The man laughed. "Yeah? Where is he, huh?" He looked around like it was a joke. "Married girls don't come to clubs without backup."

His words made her feel sick. She didn't say anything more. She just turned and walked away from him as fast as she could, pushing through the crowd now–not caring if she bumped into people. Her panic was rising too fast, and her body couldn't handle the noise, the lights, the suffocation of being surrounded by strangers.

She started calling Jungkook's name louder now, desperate, panicked. "JUNGKOOK!" she shouted. "Jungkook–please!"

No answer.

Someone brushed past her, another person grabbed her wrist by accident while dancing, and that was it.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Her breath was coming in short gasps now. Her chest felt tight like something was sitting on it. She pushed through the crowd until she finally reached the entrance and stumbled outside.

The cold air hit her face, but it didn't help. She leaned against the wall just outside the club, trying to breathe, but her breaths were sharp and broken. Her hands shook. Her eyes filled with tears.

She looked around at the unfamiliar street.

She didn't know where she was. Didn't know the name of the area. Didn't even know which direction the hotel was in. She hadn't paid attention when they arrived–Jungkook had handled everything. He had told her to just stay close and trust him. Now he was nowhere to be seen.

No phone. No purse. No money. No way to ask for help.

And to make it worse, even outside, a few drunk men stood near the entrance, smoking, laughing loudly. One of them looked at her, eyes running over her with the same carelessness as the man inside. She immediately looked away, hugging herself, her body trembling as she tried to keep herself together.

She stepped away from the entrance, walking a little down the street, crying openly now, calling out again. "Jungkook? Jungkook–where are you?!" Her voice cracked. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold them still.

Everything was too much.

The noise, the strangers, the city she didn't know, the language she didn't understand. She felt lost–completely and utterly lost. And the only person she knew in this place had left her behind without a word.

★ ★ ★

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