[ complete ] 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

47. 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔.

Y/n’s Perspective —

I sit quietly in the sterile white hospital room, the scent of antiseptics thick in the air I breathe. My mind swirls with questions. Was everything the intriguer told me true? Or was he just spouting nonsense? But how did he know about Jungkook's late girlfriend?

I should talk to Jungkook—ask him to be honest with me. But… what if he thinks I don't trust him? Why am I stuck in this mess?

“Honey,” Jungkook's voice cuts through my thoughts as he enters the room, a plate of fresh toast in his hands. He sits on the edge of the bed, a soothing smile plastered on his soft lips.

His smile always brings one to mine. I grin and reach for the plate, but he swats my hand away.

“I'll feed you,” he says gently.

“Fine,” I agree without argument.

He smiles, holding the toast between his fingers and bringing it to my lips. I take a small bite.

“Take bigger bites. You’re not a baby,” he teases.

I glare at him, eyes narrowing with mock annoyance. “Fine,” I say again, complying.

After I finish the toast, he takes my hand in his. His hands are usually softer than mine, but this time they feel rough—like worn stone under my skin.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, then suddenly squeezes my cheeks playfully. I try to swat his hand away, but he only pinches harder to annoy me.

“Jungkook, let go,” I whine.

He leans down, kisses my forehead, and walks out of the room.

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

I’m finally home after getting discharged. Back to the same room, the same house, standing in front of the same wardrobe where I first found those old, worn-out pictures—memories of his past love.

Did he really kill her? Was everything the intriguer said true? I don’t know. But whatever the truth is, I’ll find it.

With a hesitant flick of my wrist, I open the large wardrobe. Everything is perfectly arranged.

I shouldn’t do this. He trusts me with all his heart. I shouldn’t break that trust.

But then my phone rings.

It’s Junghyun. Again.

No matter how many times I block him, he always calls from new numbers.

“What the hell do you want?” I snap, my voice sharp with frustration.

“How are you? I heard you were stabbed and discharged just two days ago,” he says, sounding genuinely concerned.

Should I ask him? Does he know anything about the girl?

“Junghyun… do you know Suyeon?”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Then he answers, “Yes. She was your husband’s girlfriend.”

“I know that. Can you tell me how she died?” I ask, my voice calm but probing.