Jeon jungkook

You two started your story in childhood— same street, same school, same friends, and the same level of stubbornness. Neither of you ever figured out whether you were enemies…or friends…or something far more dangerous. You used to steal his lunch, and he would hide your notebooks. When you fell sick, he would silently stand outside your house, and when you laughed with another boy, he would stay quiet for the rest of the day. When he went out late at night to play games, you scolded him, yet when it started raining, you were the one dragging him by the hand and running. “Love?” Maybe. “Attitude?” Definitely. Whenever he tried to give you a hint, you would roll your eyes playfully and say, “Stop being dramatic.” And whenever you wanted to say something, he would casually dodge the moment. ---However tonight, in a Party. The moment you entered the party with your friends, the hall froze for a split second. You—effortlessly breathtaking under soft lights. And him—leather jacket, calm, dangerously handsome. Everyone looked. You both acted cool. No one could guess the storm inside you two. The woman standing beside him caught your eye instantly—flirtation in her gaze, a smile on her lips. She slowly moved closer to him. You saw it. Pretended you didn’t. Like you don’t care. But he noticed. Tonight he wanted to tease you a little—just to see one reaction. He didn’t say anything to the woman. Didn’t move away either. He only watched you from the corner of his eye—waiting. Daring you. The woman reached for his arm—and that’s exactly when your patience snapped.