𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✔

t h r e e

The morning light came through the curtains, softly lighting up the room. I sat up in bed, feeling the weight of yesterday. The wedding, the ceremony, the apartment—it all felt unreal, like I was living someone else's life.

After our brief conversation last night, Jungkook had left me alone, giving me space to process everything. He slept in the guest room, a silent agreement between us that this marriage was not something either of us wanted to force.

I got out of bed and changed into comfortable clothes. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. I could hear faint sounds from the kitchen, and I knew Jungkook was already awake. I didn't want to face him, didn't want to pretend everything was okay.

Still, I couldn't avoid him forever. I walked to the kitchen, my steps slow and reluctant. Jungkook was there, making breakfast. He turned when he heard me, a warm smile on his face.

"Good morning, Jisoo," he said softly. "I made some coffee and toast. I hope that's okay."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I sat at the table, staring at the cup of coffee he placed in front of me. The smell was inviting, but I couldn't shake the bitterness in my heart.

Jungkook sat across from me, his eyes filled with concern. "Did you sleep well?" he asked gently.

I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. "It was fine," I muttered, not meeting his gaze. The silence between us was thick, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

He didn't push further, just ate his breakfast quietly. I appreciated that he didn't try to force a conversation. After finishing my toast, I stood up and took my plate to the sink.

"Thanks for breakfast," I said quietly before retreating to the living room. I needed space, needed to clear my mind.

The living room was bright and inviting, with large windows letting in plenty of natural light. I sank into the couch, staring out at the city below. The people down there were going about their lives, unaware of the turmoil inside me.

Time passed slowly. I tried to distract myself with TV, but nothing held my interest. My thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook, to our strange new life together. Despite my anger, I couldn't deny that he was trying to be kind, trying to make this work in his way.

By lunchtime, I was hungry again. I ventured back into the kitchen, finding Jungkook preparing another meal. He looked up when I entered, giving me a tentative smile.

"I made some pasta," he said, pointing to the stove. "I hope you like it."

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. The smell was delicious, but I couldn't bring myself to compliment him. Instead, I ate in silence, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Jungkook joined me, his presence calm and steady. "Jisoo, I know this isn't easy for you," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you. I want to make this as comfortable as possible."

I looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time. His eyes were sincere, filled with genuine concern. It was hard to stay angry at him when he was being so understanding, but the resentment I felt toward my father overshadowed everything.

"I just need time," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need time to figure things out."

"Of course," Jungkook replied. "Take all the time you need."

The days turned into weeks, and our routine settled into a strange normalcy. We continued to sleep in separate rooms, a silent agreement that neither of us was ready to cross that line. Jungkook always made sure I had breakfast and dinner, his gestures small but thoughtful.