FALLING FOR YOU | KM [✓]°

3. Wedding Day

today is the wedding day.

the grand venue is transformed into something out of a dream. everywhere you look, soft white tulips bloom in elegant arrangements—cascading from tall vases, woven into delicate arches, scattered along the long aisle like fallen snow. crystal chandeliers catch the golden afternoon light and sprinkle it across the room. crisp white linens, silver accents, and subtle touches of pale gold make the entire space feel timeless, romantic, almost too perfect to be real. famous faces fill the seats—actors, musicians, business tycoons, old family friends—all dressed impeccably, murmuring quietly among themselves. they are here not just to witness a ceremony, but to see the legendary park-jeon friendship finally blossom into something more permanent, something official.

jungkook stands alone at the altar.

he is dressed in a tailored black tuxedo that fits him like a second skin—sharp lines, perfect cut, expensive fabric that moves with every small shift of his body. his hair is styled neatly, dark strands falling just so over his forehead. to the guests he looks composed, handsome, every inch the perfect groom. but the smile on his lips is carefully constructed, thin and practiced, never quite reaching his eyes. inside he feels nothing but a dull, heavy emptiness.

he agreed to this marriage.

not because he wanted it. not because he believed in love anymore. but because, for the first time in his life, his parents had asked something from him—something big, something personal—and he could not bring himself to say no. they had never demanded anything before. they had given him freedom, support, unconditional love. refusing them now felt like betrayal. so when they spoke park jimin’s name with such gentle hope in their voices, jungkook nodded. he said yes. even though it meant binding himself to a complete stranger for the rest of his life.

but he made himself a silent promise as he stood in front of the mirror that morning, adjusting his tie with cold fingers.

he would not love this person.

he would not let anyone inside his heart again. he would be polite when necessary, distant when possible. he would fulfill the role of husband on paper—attend events, appear in photos, play the part for his parents’ sake—but he would keep his emotions locked away. no affection. no vulnerability. no second heartbreak. this marriage existed only to make his mother and father happy. nothing more.

the music swells softly.

the doors at the far end of the aisle open.

jungkook doesn’t look up right away. he keeps his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance, jaw tight, hands clasped behind his back. he hears the soft collective gasp from the guests, the quiet ripple of admiration that moves through the crowd. only when the groom finally reaches the altar and stands in front of him does jungkook allow himself to glance.