Yoo!
Another chapter here!
Just a thing that I am going to call jungkook as jungkook even if he is in hyejin's body and hyejin as hyejin even if she is in jungkook's body.
--Not to confuse you guys--
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The soft rays of the morning sun pierced through the cracks of the blinds, but Jungkook couldn’t feel its warmth. He tossed and turned on the couch, unable to get even a moment of peaceful sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of Taehyung, his husband, embracing Hyejin's body consumed him. The thought alone felt like a heavy weight pressing against his chest. How could it be? How could Hyejin, with her wickedness, take what was rightfully his?
Jungkook's mind raced with thoughts that only fueled the fire inside him. His nightmares were relentless, each one filled with disturbing images—Taehyung's affection for someone who wasn’t him, the children’s smiles directed at an imposter. The longer he lay there, the more frantic his mind became, spiraling into madness. The ticking clock on the wall was his only companion, each minute stretching longer than the last, making his frustration grow with each second.
It was already five in the morning. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he sat up, pushing his fingers through his messy hair. Sleep seemed out of reach, and even if he tried to force himself to rest, his thoughts would never stop. They were too loud, too consuming. “How could this happen?” he muttered under his breath, pacing the living room. He wanted to scream, to do something to break free from this nightmare. But nothing made sense. He had called a witch into his life—a witch who had stolen his very soul, and now it seemed there was no way out.
"Freaking bitch," he spat, his voice low and full of disgust. He wanted to let it all out, every ounce of anger, every bit of helplessness that twisted inside him like a knife. It wasn’t just betrayal he felt; it was a deep, visceral fear of losing everything he held dear.
His eyes darted toward the room—the room that was now supposed to be his, the room where Hyejin had claimed his body as her own. He couldn’t just sit around, paralyzed by fear. No. He needed to act, to find something that would expose the truth and give him back what was taken. With a burning sense of urgency, he stood up, making his way toward the door of Hyejin’s room.
“Maybe... maybe there’s something here,” he whispered to himself, his fingers twitching with a mixture of determination and anxiety. He had to find something—a clue, a hidden object, anything that could serve as proof of the black magic that had taken over his life.
The door creaked as he pushed it open, stepping inside with a quiet resolve. His eyes swept over the room, noting the familiarity of the space, yet the air felt wrong. It was as if the walls themselves were tainted by the darkness that had taken root here. His gaze lingered on the bed for a moment, his throat tightening. It wasn’t his bed anymore. It wasn’t his room anymore.
Jungkook clenched his fists, fighting back the surge of anger that threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn’t just looking for answers; he was looking for justice. “You are the worst being,” he muttered, glaring at the space where Hyejin’s presence lingered, where his soul had once been.
He moved swiftly, his hands tearing through drawers, flipping through pages of books, throwing everything aside in a frantic search. “Ugh! If it wasn’t necessary, I would never—never be stuck in your ugly, fake body!” His words spilled out, a mixture of fury and disbelief. The room was quickly descending into chaos, papers scattered on the floor, drawers pulled out and emptied. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered except finding a way to fix what had been broken.
