⚠️UNDER EDITING ⚠️
Her appearance is like a fragile flower,
But in actuality, she is wilder than wind.
Her craziness drives him wild.
And makes him go insane.
🖤💜
A Ferocious Beast and an Ordinary Nurse
JEON JUNGKOOK
SHIN Y/N
"You are insane."
"...
Jungkook entered his room and slammed the door shut with a force that made the walls subtly tremble, the echo of the impact lingering like the storm brewing inside him. His chest rose and fell with quiet fury, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like his teeth would shatter under the pressure.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back roughly behind his ear, the silver rings on his fingers catching the faint glint of moonlight seeping through the curtains. From the depths of his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. His fingers, adorned with tattoos and tension, trembled slightly as he shook one out. But when he reached into the other pocket and found it empty—no lighter his frustration surged again.
Grinding his teeth, Jungkook stalked toward the bedside table, yanking open drawers with little care until finally, buried under a pair of cufflinks and an unused pocketknife, he found a black matte lighter. Without delay, he flicked it open, the flame dancing like a challenge before it kissed the tip of the cigarette. He inhaled deeply.
The acrid burn of nicotine hit his lungs sharply, forcing his shoulders to drop as the tight coil of rage inside him began to loosen. The smoke curled lazily around his face, drifting up toward the ceiling like a silent sigh.
Her voice, her words, the way she looked at him like she wasn’t afraid. Who did she think she was? No one ever dared to talk to him like that. Not even enemies in interrogation rooms had the guts. But her? She didn’t flinch. Didn’t cower. And somehow, that infuriated him more than fear ever could.
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Disgusted with his own reaction, Jungkook flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, the red ember dying out instantly. He rubbed his face with both hands, tattoos grazing over his skin, before standing up with purpose. A cold shower that’s what he needed. He always found solace beneath the icy sting of water.
By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, damp hair sticking to his forehead and a towel lazily thrown around his neck, he felt less murderous. Not calm but contained.
His stomach growled, and with a low grumble of annoyance, he made his way out, deciding to sneak into the kitchen. Maybe there would be something sweet left from earlier… and hopefully, the woman who haunted his nerves wouldn’t be there.
The hallway was cloaked in darkness, but it didn’t faze him. He moved silently, barefoot steps padded like a predator's as he reached the kitchen. The space was dim, shadows stretching across the counters like lazy cats. He reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
The soft hum of the overhead lights filled the silence as they flickered to life and that’s when he saw it.
A figure.
Perched casually on the kitchen counter, legs swinging like a child’s, one hand delicately holding a half-eaten chocolate pastry. Her other hand was brushing at her face, trying to shove away a curtain of messy hair that had rebelliously flopped over her eyes in all directions a makeshift helmet of sugary chaos.
