Healing Presence's

16

Author pov

The honeymoon was over, the rumors had finally vanished, and life felt… peaceful.

Y/N was in the dining room with Mrs. Jeon, hovering like a mother hen.

“Eomma, eat this, it’s healthy for you,” Y/N said, holding a bowl of soup near Mrs. Jeon’s lips.

“My daughter, please. I’m full now.” Mrs. Jeon sighed, sipping her water in an attempt to escape.

“Oh, yeah? I saw how much you didn’t eat. Now no excuses.” Y/N’s tone was strict, but her eyes softened.

Mrs. Jeon huffed but obediently drank, her defeated pout making Y/N giggle.

“You’re so cute, Eomma.”

Just then, Mr. Jeon entered with a smug smile. “Yeah, my wife is soooo cuuute.”

“Hmpf, stop talking nonsense, both of you. I’m hot, not cute.” Mrs. Jeon flipped her hair dramatically, making Y/N and Mr. Jeon burst into laughter as they continued their dinner like a real family.

---

Later that evening, around 9 pm, Jungkook returned home, exhaustion clear on his face, but his feet led him straight to the kitchen. His eyes softened when he saw you washing dishes, sleeves rolled up, hair tied loosely.

Without a word, he walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You paused for a second but resumed your work, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath fanning your ear. You hummed.

“I’m tired,” his voice was low, almost childlike.

You didn’t need to see him to know he was pouting.

“Hubby, go and freshen up first. Then dinner. Then rest. That’s an order,” you said, turning around and hooking your arms around his neck, tapping his nose playfully.

He nodded with a grin, but then, without warning, scooped you up bridal style.

“Kookie! What are you doing?!” you squealed, already knowing where this was going.

“I’m tired. You’re my comfort. Let’s go together,” he said simply, like it was the most logical thing in the world.

---

In your bedroom, he placed you down gently. His eyes flicked to the wardrobe.

“Take out my nightwear, hmm? I’ll be out soon.” He disappeared into the washroom.

You did as told, shaking your head fondly. He was such a baby sometimes.

After dinner, the two of you lay on the bed, wrapped in a blanket of quiet comfort. Your head rested on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, steady yet faster than usual.

“Sweetheart…” he called.

You hummed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice so gentle, yet his hold around you became firmer, possessive in the most protective way.

Your breath hitched. Slowly, you tilted your head up to look at him. His eyes—those gorgeous, deep, brown pools—held nothing but love and a silent plea.

“You can,” you whispered.

His lips curled into the softest smile, but his actions were far from soft—he flipped you beneath him with such excitement that you couldn’t help but giggle.