Fateful Alliance ∞

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JUNGKOOK

The first thing I became aware of was not the silence, nor the soft hush of the curtains rustling with the early morning breeze, but the warm, almost mocking sunlight prying open my eyelids.

A groan slipped out before I could stop it. I burrowed deeper into the mattress, or so I thought, only to realise within seconds that the thing I was burying myself into wasn't a pillow at all. My cheek was pressed against something firm yet strangely comfortable, warm in a way no pillow could ever hope to be. A steady rhythm pulsed beneath my ear. Thump, thump, thump. And it took me a dazed moment to recognise it.

A heartbeat.

And then it hit me.

I wasn't tangled up with a pillow. I was tangled up with Taehyung.

My eyes fluttered open, the bright morning light making me squint, and there it was: the expanse of his chest rising and falling, the faint scent of lavender soap clinging to his skin, and one strong arm draped over my waist like it belonged there. His hand splayed lazily against my hip, as if claiming me even in his sleep. Our legs... God. They were a mess, twisted together as though we'd been competing for territory in our dreams.

Heat flared instantly in my cheeks.

For a heartbeat, I considered untangling myself. I really did. But then I made the mistake of tilting my head slightly upward, catching the sight of his face. Taehyung, the ruthless CEO, the cold-hearted businessman everyone else whispered about, was here snoring softly in my bed, holding me like I was something precious.

I bit back the smile tugging at my lips, failing miserably.

The sun painted him in gold, softening every sharp line of his face. He didn't look intimidating like this. He didn't look cold. He looked almost boyish. Almost fragile. And against my better judgement, I wanted to stay in that cocoon a little longer.

But the sunlight was relentless, stabbing through the curtains, and I couldn't exactly spend the entire morning pretending to be asleep. With as much stealth as I could muster, I began the slow operation of peeling his arm off my waist.

Bad idea.

The second I shifted, Taehyung made a low noise in his throat, his grip tightening automatically. He mumbled something incoherent, half-buried in sleep, and then, with all the stubbornness of a child refusing to wake up, he dragged me back against him, hugging me even closer.

I let out an incredulous laugh, muffled against his shirt. "You've got to be kidding me..."

He didn't answer, of course. Just snuggled in deeper, like I was some human-sized plush toy he couldn't live without.

For a good thirty seconds, I contemplated just surrendering. Honestly, it was comfortable. Too comfortable. The rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his chest, the faint rumble of his snores. it was the perfect recipe for falling asleep again.

But my bladder and the nagging beam of sunlight had other plans.

So, with a resigned sigh, I reached for the nearest available object (my pillow) and carefully swapped myself out. I maneuvered his arm, replacing my body with the pillow in one swift motion. The moment his hands registered something soft, he clutched it to his chest with a satisfied hum, burying his face into the fabric.

I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting into laughter. The mighty Kim Taehyung, feared by boardrooms and CEOs alike, reduced to hugging a pillow like a lovesick teenager.

Shaking my head, I finally slipped out of bed and padded toward the bathroom.

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