Your pov
I smiled softly to myself as I moved about the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The aroma of sizzling eggs filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee. However, my thoughts were drawn to Jungkook, who had been locked in the bathroom for over two hours. I found myself glancing at the clock repeatedly, a wave of concern washing over me each time I checked. It wasn't that I doubted him; it was just that he had a penchant for wandering off without a word, and the last thing I wanted was for him to slip away unnoticed.
As I stood there, my smile grew wider, a warm memory surfacing in my mind. I remembered how his eyes sparkled with excitement when I first mentioned the bathroom and shower. He had been so adorably enthusiastic, his shyness momentarily forgotten as he darted toward the bathroom, not even bothering to find out its location. I had to chase after him, laughing softly, only to find him hilariously wedged in the closet instead. After finally coaxing him out, I had happily led him to his destination, marveling at how innocent and sweet he could be in those moments.
It made me wish he could see himself as I did. He had this rare charm that made my heart flutter, and I really hoped he understood just how delightful his presence was.
"Because of him?" His words flitted through my mind, casting a shadow over my thoughts. But it wasn't like that at all. When I had expressed my desire to help him, it had been a genuine offer born from my feelings in that moment. I hadn't been thinking about anything else—his presence enveloped me, leaving me utterly captivated, almost spellbound. He had a way of intimidating me without even trying, an aura that left my thoughts scattered.
Every time he stood before me, I felt a wave of nervous energy course through me, my mind racing with how I should act or what I ought to say. Just recalling the way his cold, penetrating gaze had scrutinized me made my cheeks flush with warmth. I had never felt so thoroughly examined before, and I was convinced he could see deep into my soul, revealing all my secrets and insecurities. It was as if he held the power to unearth every hidden thought, and the intensity of it took my breath away.
I reached the conclusion that he often seemed to 'trance out' during our conversations. It was as if his mind wandered off to distant realms while I was speaking. His eyes would glaze over, and at times, I couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't truly listening to my words. However, the truth was quite the opposite. I learned that this tendency to drift away is often characteristic of a creative and gifted individual. It wasn't that he wasn't engaged; rather, he was forming a profound connection to something I had said, embarking on a mental journey sparked by my words. I had come across this insight in my reading, which suggested that the best approach was to remain silent until he subconsciously registered the quiet and returned to the present moment. When he did, I'd greet him with a warm smile that extended to my eyes, hoping to encourage him to share his thoughts with me.
Yet, despite my efforts, he never seemed to emerge from his reveries with anything other than a frown. Perhaps my smile didn't communicate the trust I wished to convey. Still, I was determined not to give up. My desire to connect with him was overwhelming, stronger than any feeling I had ever experienced. What terrified me the most was my inability to comprehend the depth of this yearning.
"Y/N?"
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I turned around, startled to see Jungkook standing in the kitchen doorway, a look of confusion etched across his features.
"I can't find my clothes," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. He stood there clad only in a blue towel that was precariously wrapped around his hips. His hair, damp and tousled, appeared almost black in the soft light, with beads of water sliding down his cheeks and neck. A few droplets clung to his chest, disappearing into the defined contours of his torso, tracing the lines of his abs.
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to just stare at him, my mouth agape in awe. The urge to reach out and touch him was overwhelming. Wait, no. I couldn't think like that. Not now. Not like this.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the remnants of my earlier foolishness. As nothing seemed to change, I allowed an impish smirk to creep across my face, sending it his way. "I threw them away," I announced, stepping closer to him with a sense of playful mischief. As I moved, I casually picked up the t-shirt and jeans I had bought for him from the cluttered table nearby. "You'll have to wear these unless you prefer to stay like this. After all, it's not exactly an unpleasant sight," I teased, my grin widening as I watched the flush creep across his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and surprise.
Without waiting for a response, he snatched the clothes from my hands, his palms brushing against mine for just a moment, sending an unexpected jolt through me. Then, in a whirlwind of motion, he turned on his heel and dashed out of the kitchen, heading straight for my bedroom with the speed of someone trying to escape an awkward situation. I couldn't help but smile, a sense of satisfaction bubbling up inside me as I observed him. It was a thrill to know I had managed to fluster him, even as I did my best to ignore the curious fluttering in my chest.
***
As you meticulously arranged the table, placing napkins and cutlery with care, Jungkook stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you. The warmth of the room contrasted with the slightly cool air outside, creating an inviting atmosphere. He watched your every move, his expression a mix of curiosity and admiration.
Eventually, his eyes drifted to the table, which was laden with an array of dishes you'd prepared. The vibrant colors and aromas filled the air, a testament to the effort you had put into the meal. His gaze softened as he took in the sight, a pang of concern washing over him.
**I won't be able to eat all of this,** he thought suddenly, feeling a wave of sympathy for the hard work you had poured into creating a feast that might now go uneaten.
"I didn't know what you liked to eat, so I made all of this just to make sure you'd find something that you enjoy," you said, your cheeks warming with embarrassment as his eyes flitted from the table to your face, revealing your vulnerability.
Jungkook paused for a moment, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he considered your words. "There's nothing in particular I like. Or, I should say, anything would be alright," he replied, his voice softening as he took a step closer to the table. He moved with a relaxed grace, each step deliberate, as if savoring the moment.
You watched as he approached the table, and you instinctively pulled out a chair for him, an unspoken invitation for him to join you. He nodded his thanks, a flicker of appreciation crossing his features as he settled into the chair across from you.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the soft clinking of dishes as he prepared to dig into the meal you had created with such care. His eyes sparkled with gratitude, and in that moment, the atmosphere was filled with a quiet intimacy that made the room feel even more welcoming.
"Don't mention it. I'm genuinely happy that I won't be eating alone anymore," you replied with a warm smile, pulling the plate in front of you. The aroma of the fried eggs mingled with the crispness of the salad, making your mouth water. You focused intently on your meal, trying to keep the atmosphere relaxed and easygoing, not wanting to make him feel awkward while he ate. But to your surprise, you soon noticed that he had finished his meal well before you had even taken a second bite.
As your gaze wandered across the table, you were taken aback by how little he had consumed. His plate sat mostly untouched, and your heart sank at the sight.
"You… didn't like it, did you? I'm so sorry. Should I whip up something else for you?" Panic bubbled just beneath the surface, and you were about to rise from the table when you felt his hand gently grip your arm, halting you in your tracks.
"I really liked it," Jungkook insisted, his smile slightly strained as he spoke. "In fact, it was the best meal I've had in a long time. It's just that I can't eat much right now. I already feel like my stomach is about to burst." His expression was one of discomfort, and the last thing you wanted was for him to feel uneasy.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! And thank you for being honest about it," you replied, your concern growing.
"But I want to know something. How many times did they actually bring food for you to eat?" Before you knew it, the words had escaped your lips, your voice rising with worry. It was painfully evident that he wasn't receiving enough nourishment on a regular basis.
His stomach had clearly shrunk over time due to the scarcity of food he had learned to accept.
"It's really not a big deal," Jungkook said, his brow furrowing slightly. "I've just never liked eating too much, so…"
"Did you receive food every day?" You pressed on, frustration bubbling within you at the thought of his neglect.
At that, Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes momentarily as if surrendering to the weight of your questions. "In the beginning, I was getting food two times a day. But for the past two years, it's been just breakfast every other day."
Your heart sank at his admission, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. In an instant, you leaped to your feet, rushing towards the oven. With urgency, you pulled out the chocolate cakes you had just baked, the delightful aroma filling the space. You turned your back to him, using the task to hide the few tears that had managed to escape down your cheeks.
*I like being around you,* Jungkook thought, a soft smile creeping onto his lips as he caught a glimpse of what you were doing. But as he watched, a twinge of discomfort crept in. He had never been a fan of sweets—especially chocolate. Still, he resolved to force himself to take just a small bite, a gesture for you.
The memory of his father's voice echoed in his mind. *Chocolate is good for you. I'm sure the taste of drugs isn't very pleasant for a little boy like you. And besides, chocolate gives you lots of energy. You'll need it because I won't let you sleep all night.*
As those memories resurfaced, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, and an uneasy feeling settled in his chest. His heart raced, teetering on the edge of panic as the weight of his past threatened to pull him under once more.