𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍┃𝐓𝐊 ✔

Part : 15 Mine, yours!

Jungkook carried Taehyung through the front doors of the penthouse, his grip steady as ever, despite Taehyung’s attempts to wriggle free. They had stopped by the doctor earlier, who had treated Taehyung’s leg and assured them it wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. Still, Taehyung was in no shape to walk on his own, which meant he was left in the humiliating position of being carried by Jungkook.

Jungkook moved swiftly through the grand entrance hall, ignoring Taehyung’s protests, as if the younger’s weight was nothing. He carried him up the grand staircase, past the endless hallways and closed doors, until finally they reached Jungkook’s room.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing an expansive bedroom that took Taehyung’s breath away. It wasn’t just large---it was massive. The walls were a muted grey, the furniture sleek and modern, exuding luxury. Yet the most striking feature of the room was the wall adorned with massive framed pictures of Jungkook himself. Every angle, every expression, captured in flawless detail, dominated the space.

Jungkook gently placed Taehyung on the bed, his movements careful but firm. The bed itself was enormous, far larger than what any one person would need, with silk sheets that felt soft against Taehyung’s skin. He tried to push himself up, but the plush bed only seemed to swallow him more, making him feel small and out of place.

“Where… where am I?” Taehyung finally managed to ask, his voice soft but laced with discomfort as his gaze darted across the room, lingering on the overwhelming number of portraits of Jungkook.

Jungkook, who was casually removing his coat, turned to him with an almost indifferent expression. “This is my room.”

Taehyung frowned immediately, pushing against the bed again as he tried to stand up. He wobbled slightly, his injured leg still weak. “Then I’ll go back to my room,” he muttered, not wanting to spend another second in this space that felt suffocating in its display of Jungkook’s dominance.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, watching him closely as Taehyung attempted to leave. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall with a calm demeanor, but his words cut sharply through the air. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Taehyung didn’t bother looking at him as he limped toward the door. “I’m going back to my room,” he replied, his tone as cold as the tension hanging between them.

Jungkook pushed off from the wall, his lips curling into a slight smirk, as if amused by Taehyung’s defiance. “That was the guest room,” he said, his voice deep and authoritative. “You won’t be staying there anymore.”

Taehyung froze, turning back to look at him. His brows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook took slow, deliberate steps toward him, his gaze never leaving Taehyung’s. “We’re married, aren’t we?” His voice was smooth, laced with amusement. “You’ll stay here. In this room. With me.”

Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat, and he stared at Jungkook in disbelief. “What?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves were too heavy to comprehend. “I—why would I stay here?”

Jungkook’s smirk widened as he closed the distance between them, his towering frame casting a shadow over Taehyung. “This is my room,” he said, his voice steady, “which means it’s your room too now. We’re married. My room, my bed, is also yours.”

The words hit Taehyung like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t even processed the weight of their marriage fully yet, and now this. The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook, sleeping in the same bed, under the same roof---it made his stomach sick.

“This can’t be real,” Taehyung muttered, shaking his head as he backed up, his injured leg protesting with each step. “I can’t stay here. I won’t.”