[ONGOING] 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓.
When Omega Jungkook get shipped to the South to be married off for the second time, he knows exactly what to expect-Coldness. Neglect. Abuse. He's learnt how to survive being bonded to a cruel Alpha. He can do it again.
Alpha...
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Jungkook would be ashamed to admit that he stayed in bed more than half an hour after waking. He'd always been one to approach things head-on, first encouraged by his parents, who had been kind and intrepid when it came to how they approached the world.
"Are you scared?" they would ask Jungkook with grins on their faces.
Jungkook would shrink away from the first day of schooling or doubt the steepness of a hill even though he'd seen other children sledging down it, and say, "Yes."
"Yes, pretty frightening, my darling. But let's do it anyway."
Jungkook's little sister had been born with that attitude, loud and living without abandon. Even as a tiny little dot of a girl she'd barrel through older children to play with the roughest of them. Ten years of marriage had solidified in him all the truths about fear that not even his family had been able to give him. He'd learnt how to exist with it so that it didn't consume him—how to survive instead of live.
Now, though, as he lay in bed, all the uncertainties of his future awoke that old, fresh scent of fear. He'd had to learn so many lessons the last ten years—would they now be for nothing? It wasn't worth dwelling on it. Yes, he was afraid—but he had to get up anyway.
He dressed in the strange, airy clothes he'd found the previous night in the closet. The plazo trousers were long at least, a murky white with a strange pleat at the front that had been meticulously pressed. His top was a gentle ivory coloured, which he paired with one of the corsets he'd brought, made of a shimmering brown and subtly stamped with green butterflies and pastel pink, and paired it all with a pair of brown bellies, and a couple of gold necklaces and bracelets.
His pearl and ivory coloured hair, he wet and tried to tame. It was the worst thing about him, neither straight nor perfectly curled, instead coming out in waves that were difficult to keep in place. He pinned the more obnoxious ones back with pink butterfly clips, although some strands always escaped to hang over his face. Some things you just couldn't control.
Jungkook had been given a spacious guest room for his stay, filled with light-wood furnishings. The bed was expansive with wispy sheets that were a relief during the heat that persisted at night. It was situated on the second floor, where all the rooms and adjoined washrooms seemed to be. Downstairs held the parlour, tea room, dining room, library, and, of course, the kitchen and staff eating room, where he headed now.
Jungkook found the kitchen with ease—even if he hadn't been able to remember where it was, the tantalising smells coming from it would have guided him.
"Good morning," he greeted softly, offering a tentative smile. His husband would not be an ally, but the house staff had always been his safe haven—people close to him that would keep his secrets and offer small kindnesses when they could.
