The sun sinks below the horizon, bleeding streaks of orange and crimson into the sky, but the beauty is lost on me. The warmth, the light—it doesn't reach me. Not when the ice in my veins refuses to thaw.
Jeon Jungkook.
His name is a weight, pressing down on my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. It clings to me like a curse, reminding me of the moment my foot connected with his shin, the way his smirk had twisted into something darker. I had thought I'd won.
I was wrong.
I sit at the dinner table, pushing food around my plate, my stomach twisting itself into knots. My parents speak in soft murmurs, their voices blending into the background, but my eyes are locked onto my mother's hand as she reaches for a dish.
A bruise.
Dark. Ugly. A silent scream against her skin.
My heart stumbles, a sickening lurch. I shift my gaze to my father, and there it is again. Discoloration peeking from beneath his sleeve, faint but unmistakable.
A chill spreads through me, slow and suffocating.
Jungkook wasn't bluffing.
My appetite vanishes. The room tilts, or maybe it's just me, spiraling into the abyss of realization. This isn't a warning.
This is a promise.
"I'm not hungry," I say, barely recognizing my own voice.
My parents pause, concern flickering in their eyes, but I don't let them speak. I push my chair back, the screeching sound grating against my ears, and leave the table before they can stop me.
Upstairs, my room feels smaller than before, suffocating. The second my body hits the bed, the dam breaks. My chest heaves as I drag in shaky breaths, but the air is thick, poisoned with fear.
What have I done?
I should've walked away. I should've let it go. I should've known better than to challenge someone like him.
But I didn't.
And now, my parents are paying the price.
A shudder wrecks through me. My fingers curl into the sheets, gripping them like they're the only thing keeping me grounded.
He wants me to break.
To kneel.
To submit.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the panic to loosen its grip. But the image of him lingers—his smirk, his dark, calculating stare. The way he had looked at me not with anger, but amusement. Like I was a puzzle he couldn't wait to dismantle.
I won't give in.
I can't.
But what choice do I have?
Pride and fear wage a silent war inside me, tearing me apart from the inside out. And as I stare at the ceiling, my defiance pressing down on me like a crushing weight, I realize one thing with terrifying certainty.
Jungkook isn't done with me.
And this is only the beginning.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of Submission jjk
Romance"You can fight me all you want, sweetheart," Jungkook murmurs, his fingers trailing down my jaw, tilting my chin up to meet his dark, burning gaze. "But we both know how this ends." My breath hitches as he cages me against the wall, his touch send...
