From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story [JJK]

✨A MOTHER'S LOVE, A SON'S PAIN✨

Later that night.

"Jungkook?" I whispered into the dim silence.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me, shoulders slumped under the weight of things I couldn't see but could feel. I walked toward him slowly, heart aching at the sight of him. He looked so tired—physically, emotionally. Like the world had finally caught up with him.

Without saying anything more, I sat beside him, gently coaxing his head onto my lap. His body gave in to the touch, like he'd been holding himself up for too long. My fingers found his hair and combed through the strands slowly, over and over, trying to soothe him the only way I knew how.

He didn't say a word. His eyes fluttered shut, and little by little, the tension in his jaw eased. His breathing softened. For the first time that night, he looked at peace.

"Just relax," I whispered, though the words were for me too. I didn't deserve this moment, not after everything.

But I stayed like that, watching over him while sleep claimed him. His face, so close to mine, so vulnerable. I memorized every line, every scar—trying to etch him into memory before the truth tore us apart.

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. The guilt clawed at my throat. I had betrayed him. I had lied. And I couldn't go back to Zalgo. I wouldn't.

But I couldn't tell Jungkook the truth yet either. I wasn't ready for what that would do to us.

So I just held him tighter, hoping he'd never find out. That maybe I could fix it all before it was too late.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up to me. I curled into him, my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

And like that—wrapped in warmth, drowning in guilt—we both drifted off.

By the time night bled into early morning, we had shifted closer under the covers. Jungkook's arm was looped around my waist, his chest pressed softly against my back. His breath ghosted across my neck—steady, warm.

But even in sleep, he held me a little too tightly. Like part of him was still afraid I'd disappear.

I turned in his arms and buried my face into his chest. He stirred faintly, just enough to pull me closer, our foreheads touching now.

Two hearts, tangled in secrets.

His—the pain he never spoke of.

Mine—the betrayal I couldn't undo.

Neither of us said a word.

And in the silence, we held on.

Not because it was easy.

But because neither of us knew how to let go.

---

The next morning,

I woke still in his arms, the sunlight creeping softly through the windows. Jungkook's face was calm, relaxed in a way I rarely saw.

His phone began to buzz on the nightstand.

Not wanting to disturb him, I carefully reached over and answered.
"Hello?"

"Y/N?" Taehyung's voice was on the other end. "Where's Jungkook?"

"He's asleep," I said softly. "Can it wait?"

Taehyung paused. "Yeah. Just... don't wake him. Let him rest."