𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊

20

JK'S POV-

That first morning after the shower and tub thing, I woke up without her sprawled over me. Which seemed weird since she'd done that involuntarily in the past. It wasn't until she got up out of the bed and I ran back upstairs to grab my watch that I realized she'd kept herself on her side of the bed by placing a line of pillows between us, so she would roll into them, wake up, and get herself back on her side of the bed.

I'd miscalculated when I thought it would only make her want me more.

It was my mistake, forgetting for even a moment that a huge part of her was determined to despise me because of the circumstances of our marriage. When I caught her in a soft moment, I should have been taking full advantage of it, not f#cking around with her. That was the only way I was going to eventually soften her to the idea of working this marriage out.

It was going to take time. The problem was that I wasn't exactly a patient man. I had to keep reminding myself that this was for life, so if she needed to waste a week or two giving me the cold shoulder, I could deal.

It was just after seven on a Friday night a week after the bath situation. I'd planned on getting home and inviting her out to dinner. A peace offering, of sorts, since she'd been stubborn, refusing to break the silence. I tried to talk to her as much as I could but no use of it. I figured that if we got out of the apartment together, maybe she would loosen up a bit, hold a conversation with me, and we could move forward.

I walked into the scents of cooking in my apartment. Moving in, I could see Y/N in the kitchen, busy at work.

She was never fully casual, but this was as close as she got, wearing brown pants and a simple light cream-colored sweater. Her silky hair was pulled into a loose braid down her back, likely to keep it out of her face while she cooked.

I didn't know what she was making. But I did know one thing. She wasn't going to make enough for me. She never did.

Every single morning, I would walk down to her making just enough breakfast for herself. I wasn't typically home early enough to catch her making dinner, but there were never any leftovers in the fridge for me, either.

Interestingly enough, though, she did apparently cook for Jun and Tun when they were pulling guard shifts. I knew because they'd raved about my wife's cooking skills and I'd needed to hastily change the subject to avoid having to admit that she despised me so much that she would rather let me starve than feed me.

But it isn't a big thing though cause all I wanted was her love. Even if she doesn't want to cook, I'll make enough dishes for her.

Sighing, I took off my jacket, laying it over the back of the couch, then pulling off my cufflinks, and put them down on the coffee table. Rolling up my sleeves, I made my way into the kitchen, seeing the food spread across the counter.

Ramen. she was making some sort of ramen. And it sounded f#cking amazing.

I grabbed some ingredients and started making my own food. The entire time, Y/N danced around me like I didn't exist. I may as well have been a damn ghost in my own kitchen the way she completely ignored my presence. Even when I tried to get in her way, or stick my hand in the same container of spices she was reaching into, she managed to move around me and snatch her hand back before there could be any proof that I was actually there.

I had to find a way to get on her good side. Because while it was originally funny and maybe even a little cute that she could act like I didn't exist in my own f#cking home, it was getting old fast.

A week was long enough. The problem was, I had no idea what I could do to make shit right.

I may have forcefully married her --there was no other way for me either-- But I wanted her to love me but that love should not be out of forcefulness.

-------

I woke up next to the line of pillows, of course. I figured she's already downstairs from the sounds coming out from the kitchen. 

I'd just been making my way down to grab some coffee and head out when Jungwon rushed into the apartment, eyes serious.

"We have a situation." he said, glancing over at Y/N who was sitting at the dining room table with her coffee and writing down what was likely a grocery list since we were getting low on everything.

"Okay," I agreed, skipping the coffee, and following him, keeping my mouth shut until we were in the elevator. "Where are we going?" I asked him.

"The Parking area," he said, making my brows pinch. "You need to see it for yourself..." he said, shaking his head at me.

Interest piqued, I followed him down to the ground floor, and out into the Parking area, where I found Jimin holding the leather-jacket-clad arm of a woman.

"I swear to f#cking God if you don't let go of my arm, I am going to cut each one of your fingers off with a really dull set of scissors." she growled at Jimin, staring at him with daggers in her eyes.

Fierce enough that I was sure she was actually capable. She had slightly different vibes than Y/N, looking more like their aunt with her medium-brown shoulder-length hair. But there was no mistaking the soft, feminine face shape and the deep-set eyes.

"Min Yuna " I greeted her, watching as her head whipped over, brows lifted, surprised that I knew who she was. As if the family resemblance wasn't almost painfully obvious.

"Yoonji. Min Yoonji." she corrected, chin lifting in a move that was so much like her sister that I felt my lips twitching.

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