|EPILOGUE|

[ 5 YEAR LATER ]

Their daughter, Aerum, was now four—bright-eyed, with Namjoon’s dimples and Y/n’s sharp wit. Their home, tucked away in a quiet countryside villa surrounded by golden trees and hummingbirds, was filled with soft laughter, stacks of books, and the ever-present scent of cinnamon and vanilla from Y/n’s candles.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, Hana was playing with Jimin the butler-turned-“fun-uncle” in the backyard. Yoongi sat nearby with sunglasses, dramatically sipping iced tea and grumbling about being tricked into babysitting when he just came over to drop off a gift.

Inside, Namjoon and Y/n were curled on the couch—her legs draped over his lap, his fingers tracing mindless patterns on her ankles while his other hand scrolled a tablet.

“You know,” Namjoon muttered, suddenly lowering the screen and narrowing his eyes toward the garden. “Yoongi’s been smiling a lot lately around you.”

Y/n blinked, amused. “What?”

“Just saying,” he added suspiciously. “The man used to act allergic to sunlight. Now he’s playing princess tea party with Areum and making you lemon tart every weekend. That’s... suspicious.”

Y/n burst out laughing, tossing a pillow at him. “Are you seriously still jealous of Yoongi after all these years?”

Namjoon gently caught the pillow and leaned in. “I’m not jealous. I’m possessive. There’s a difference.”

“Hmm,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And what if I said I flirt with him just to see that vein in your forehead pop?”

He growled playfully. “Don’t test me, woman.”

Y/n smirked, biting her lip. “What will you do, Kim Namjoon?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he swept her off the couch in one sudden, swift motion. She yelped, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

“You still drive me insane, you know that?” he whispered against her neck, voice deep and rough.

“And you still kiss me like you’re starving,” she whispered back, tugging at his collar.

“I am starving,” he groaned, laying her gently on the bed and hovering over her. “For you.”

Their kisses were desperate, familiar, and yet electric—proof that time hadn’t dulled the fire between them. If anything, it had carved their love deeper. Every touch was anchored in memories. Every kiss stitched with the quiet ache of longing and the loud comfort of home.

Their clothes lay forgotten in the warmth of cotton sheets and whispered promises.

Later That Night

Y/n lay in Namjoon’s arms, her fingers playing with the wedding band on his hand.

“You still act like you’re scared someone will take me away,” she murmured sleepily.

Namjoon smiled, brushing his lips over her temple. “That’s because I still can’t believe I get to call you mine. Every day with you still feels borrowed.”

“You’re such a poet,” she whispered fondly.

“I’m just a man completely ruined by you,” he replied. “In the best way.”

[ Outside in the Garden ]

Yoongi looked up at the lit bedroom window and shook his head.

“They’re at it again?” he groaned.

Jimin grinned. “Every Sunday after lemon tart.”

Areum handed them both a cup filled with juice and said, “Appa loves Umma too much. He said he’d fight a dragon for her.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Sounds about right.”

Then he smirked and raised his juice cup in mock toast. “To your insane, possessive, romantic Appa.”

[Because no matter how many years passed, in every version of forever—

Namjoon would still choose Y/n.And she would still be his greatest love story.]

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