𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞: ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ. ✅

16 | Self doubting.

JK: "God, what was I thinking? Drinking like that and then sleeping on the couch like a jackass..."

(He runs a hand through his hair, the memories of the previous night slowly coming back to him.)

JK: "I remember pouring a drink...and then looking at her in bed. She looked so damn beautiful, so innocent. I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to make her mine. But I refrained. Damn it, I actually refrained."

(He bangs his head against the counter, feeling frustrated with himself.)

JK: "But why am I holding back? She my wife. She mine already. I have every right to want her, to touch her, to make her mine in every sense of the word. So why do I feel like I don't deserve her? Why do I feel like I'll only ruin her if I give in to these feelings?

He sighs, his head still throbbing from the hangover.

JK: "Maybe it's because I know I'm not good enough for her. She is so good, so pure, and I'm...well, I'm not. I'm damaged, broken, and the darkness in me wants to consume her whole. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

💌

JK: "Mom? Are you awake?" (His voice is gentle, but there's a hint of worry in it as well.)

There's no response. Anxiety begins to grow at his gut. He knocks again, louder this time.

JK: "Mom, please answer. Are you okay in there?"

Still no response. Panic starts to take hold. He steps into the room, his eyes darting around as he searches for his mom. The bed is empty, the covers thrown back. All he can see is a note on the bedside table.

JK: "I'm fine. I've gone to the terrace. - Mom."

He reaches the door that leads to the terrace and pushes it open. The sunlight is blinding, and he has to shield his eyes as he steps outside.

He squints, his eyes adjusting to the brightness. He looks around, searching for any sign of his mom. But the terrace is empty, save for a potted plant in the corner. His heart sinks as he realizes she's not here.

JK: "Where the hell is she?!! She said she was here. She wouldn't just wander off on her own!!."(Panic begins to set in again.)Think, think. Where could she have gone? She can't have gone far. She's not strong enough to walk very far on her own."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration and worry building up inside him. He needs to find her. He needs to find her before something bad happens.

Jungkook: MOMMM!!!?! (He scream calling her) "Dammit! Where the hell is she?! Mom! Answer me!!

💌

Finally he sees his mom sitting in a wheelchair, a nurse pushing her around. Relief washes over him, but it's quickly replaced by frustration. He strides towards them, his face set in a stern

JK: "Mom, what the hell are you doing?!! You're supposed to rest! You shouldn't be out here, especially on your own."

His mom looks up at him, a stubborn tilt to her chin. She's clearly not sorry for what she's done.

Mom: "Oh, come on, stop fussing. I just wanted some fresh air. Is that so wrong?"

JK: "Yes, it is! You're supposed to be resting, not out here exerting yourself. You need to take it easy, remember? That's what the doctor said."

Mom: "Oh, pish posh! I feel fine, dear. I don't need to be cooped up in that room all day long. A little bit of fresh air is good for the soul, you know."