More Saiyaan

NIGHT IN THE FOREST

Next Morning 

Jungkook woke up, feeling a heavy warmth pressing on his chest, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd been dreaming.

 He blinked into the morning light, only to realize he was still in his dress shirt and pants from the day before, sprawled across his bed. 

a rare thing for him these days. 

When was the last time he'd fallen asleep without even taking off his shirt? It wasn't like him to be so careless it is his habit to sleep shirtless.

As he sat up, rubbing his temples, he felt a pang of irritation...and something else, something softer, that he didn't want to acknowledge. 

He stood up, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, letting the cool air help settle his thoughts.

He reminded himself that he had built walls around his heart for a reason.

The boy he had once been—naive, full of hopes and open to love—had been lost almost a decade ago.

And that boy wasn't going to resurface just because of a woman with a familiar gaze.

'Not until it's her " (AUTHOR)

As he looked at himself in the mirror, he caught his own intense stare. 

Buttoning up a fresh shirt, he rolled his shoulders, straightening himself, as if donning his armor for the day.

He needed to stay focused—his work demanded it.

If he wanted his empire to stay untouchable, he couldn't be sidetracked by any woman, let alone one who only reminded him of memories that were better left buried.

By the time he was dressed, his mask was firmly in place—he was Jeon Jungkook, the cold, calculating leader. 

He left his room with a final glance back, ensuring that no trace of last night's vulnerability followed him into the daylight.

IN OFFICE

Jungkook sat in his office, fingers tapping impatiently against the desk as he tried to focus on the report in front of him. 

But no matter how hard he tried, the words seemed to blur together. 

His mind kept drifting to her who had, strangely enough, managed to wedge herself under his skin without even trying. 

It frustrated him to no end. 

 Her presence lingered in the air long after she left, a quiet, subtle intrusion that was now occupying far too much of his headspace.

For the hundredth time that morning, he tossed his pen onto the desk, feeling irritation rise. 

He couldn't understand why her silence was so maddening.

In his world, people either feared him, revered him, or fought against him. 

But she...she simply existed in his space without giving him even a second thought.

It was absurd. Was he really this affected because she didn't seem to care about his presence?

His brooding was interrupted by the quiet knock on his office door. 

He straightened, anticipation building despite himself. 

She entered, her eyes focused on the file in her hands as

 she walked briskly to his desk. Without a glance in his direction, she placed the file down, her fingers grazing the surface of his desk briefly.

"Here are the reports you requested,"