BTS IMAGINE

ANGER

POV:

When her husband came home late &  yn is angry .

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Jin’s POV:

I finally pulled into the driveway, my heart heavy with anticipation. The clock on my car dashboard had long ticked past midnight, and I knew I’d be facing the consequences for staying out late. I could see the dim lights of the house from the window and the silhouette of Y/N pacing back and forth.

I took a deep breath before opening the door, hoping to find the right words to ease the tension. As I walked in, Y/N was waiting for me, arms crossed, a frown etched on her face. I could feel the weight of her disappointment like a heavy cloud in the room.

“Jin,” she said, her voice a mix of frustration and relief. “You’re late. Do you know what time it is?”

I nodded, guilt washing over me. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with work and lost track of time. It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened slightly, but her frustration was still palpable. “It’s not just about being late. It’s about the worry, the feeling that you’re not prioritizing us.”

I took a step closer, reaching out to her. “I understand. I should’ve called, at least let you know I was running late. I’m really sorry for not doing that.”

Y/N sighed, her anger slowly giving way to concern. “I just want us to communicate better. It’s hard waiting and not knowing.”

I took her hands in mine, looking into her eyes with sincerity. “I promise I’ll be more mindful in the future. Your feelings matter to me, and I don’t want to cause you stress. Let’s talk about this and work through it together.”

Her expression softened, and a small, weary smile appeared. “Okay. Just remember, Jin, that communication goes both ways.”

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. “I will. And I promise to make it up to you.”

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the night began to lift. I knew it would take time to rebuild trust and make things right, but I was committed to doing just that.

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SUGA'S POV:

The clock on the wall ticked louder than usual as I paced the living room. It was well past midnight, and Suga still hadn’t come home. Every minute that passed only fueled my frustration and worry. I glanced at the door, willing it to open and reveal him.

When the door finally creaked open, there he stood, looking exhausted and slightly guilty. His usual calm demeanor seemed to falter as he caught sight of me standing with my arms crossed.

"Where have you been?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. “You said you’d be home hours ago.”

Suga's shoulders sagged, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that always signaled his stress. “I’m sorry, I lost track of time at the studio. We were working on something important.”