Fuck it, ILY

Chocolates

Jungkook's POV

It's been a long, tense 24 hours. Ever since my cousin came to pick up his baby girl, the atmosphere in the house has completely shifted. My Cherry, my wife, has been giving me the silent treatment, and it's driving me insane. I've tried everything to get her attention—hovering around her like a lost puppy, attempting small talk, even offering to help with chores. But it's like I'm not even there. She just breezes past me, her gaze never quite meeting mine, and every time she brushes me off, my heart sinks a little deeper.

My dad's been having a field day with it, cracking jokes at my expense. "What did you do this time?" he'd ask, smirking like he's seen this all before. And honestly, he's spot on. I did do something, and it was pretty stupid.

It all started last night. I was in one of those mindless moods, just scrolling through my phone, when I noticed Cherry's imported rose chocolates sitting on the table. They were those fancy, ridiculously expensive ones she treats like treasure. I've always wondered what made them so special, so I thought, why not? I'll just try one.

One turned into two, and two turned into three. Before I knew it, the entire box was empty, and I was left with only the wrapper in my hand and a faint memory of what I'd just done. I didn't even realize the gravity of the situation until Cherry walked into the room.

The look on her face when she saw that empty box was unforgettable. Her eyes went wide, her lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring at the remnants of what was once her prized possession. Then, without a word, she grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it straight at my face.

I barely had time to react, just sitting there in shock as the pillow smacked me squarely. It wasn't just the physical impact that stunned me—it was the realization of what I'd done. I had violated the sacred chocolate boundary, and the consequences were immediate.

I stammered out a half-baked apology, something like, "I didn't mean to eat all of it... I just—" but she cut me off with a single, cold gesture. Her hand raised in a way that said, "Don't even bother." The look she gave me was icy, and it made me feel like I'd just committed a major crime.

Why is it that, despite being physically much larger than her, I felt so small in that moment? It's like all my bravado evaporated, leaving me a nervous wreck. I quickly shut my mouth, not wanting to make things worse, and slunk over to the couch. That's where I spent the night, trying to get comfortable, but it was impossible. Every toss and turn reminded me of the mess I'd made. Meanwhile, Cherry stormed to the trash bin and threw the empty box away with a force that made the bin rattle. The sound echoed in the quiet room, a reminder of my epic fail.

I gulped, pulling the blanket over my head, wishing I could just disappear. What was supposed to be a simple taste test had spiraled into a full-blown disaster, and now I was paying the price. My mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to her, but nothing seemed good enough.

I'm really in trouble this time.

It had been a rough morning—one of those mornings where everything seems perfectly in place, yet something essential is missing. When I woke up, I noticed how Cherry, my wife, had already laid everything out for me. My suit was ironed to perfection, my shoes polished until they gleamed, and I could smell breakfast waiting downstairs. On the surface, it looked like the start of a perfect day, but there was this strange emptiness gnawing at me. Something wasn't right.

It took me a moment to realize what it was. Usually, when I wake up, Cherry's voice is the first thing I hear, whether she's reminding me about something or just chatting away about her plans for the day. But this morning, there was nothing. Just silence. No sweet banter, no casual complaints, nothing. It felt like waking up to a world that had lost its color.