Three days had passed.
Casually, Taehyung had claimed that he wouldn't miss Jungkook’s antics. He had said it with absolute confidence, as if Jungkook was nothing more than an occasional nuisance in his life—someone loud, annoying, and completely replaceable. But oh god, how wrong he was.
Each second crawled by like a century when he was home alone. The silence of his apartment, once a comforting embrace, now stretched endlessly, pressing against his chest with an unfamiliar weight. He had convinced himself that Jungkook’s absence wouldn’t affect him, that he would go about his days as usual—reading his books, working, enjoying peaceful solitude. And yet, every little thing reminded him of that boy. The empty couch where Jungkook had thrown himself dramatically, the coffee table free of scattered energy drink cans that Jungkook always left behind, even the lack of chaotic, nonsensical chatter that usually filled the room.
Jungkook was best.
As a psychiatrist, Taehyung prided himself on his self-control. He was a man of reason, a professional who understood human emotions better than anyone. He had studied them, analyzed them, advised others on how to manage them. Yet Jungkook—oh, Jungkook—had the audacity to make him feel like a complete madman. Like a psycho with no grasp of his own emotions. Like his brain had completely abandoned him.
Taehyung wasn’t the jealous type. He never had been. He had always found jealousy to be a pointless, irrational emotion—one that indicated insecurity, lack of self-worth. And Taehyung was neither insecure nor lacking. But when it came to Jungkook? When he saw Jungkook talking to another man, laughing too freely, flirting like it was second nature—his composure shattered. His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightened, and a violent storm brewed inside him, raging against his carefully maintained calm. It was infuriating, humiliating. He hated how little control he had over himself in those moments.
Jungkook had the audacity to make him explode with anger, to make him feel things he had sworn never to indulge in. That boy was something else entirely. A walking contradiction. A reckless storm wrapped in the body of an angel. A menace. A temptation. A disaster in the most beautiful form.
And god, Taehyung missed him.
The door knocked.
Taehyung exhaled, rubbing his temples before masking his exhaustion with a practiced, professional smile. "Come in," he said smoothly, expecting yet another client with a long list of problems to unload. But the moment the door creaked open, his smile curled into a knowing smirk—
Jungkook
Yet it only last few seconds. With jungkook, there entered another man. His eye-roll when he saw who it was.
The same man of that day.
"Hello, Dr. Kim," Jungkook muttered nonchalantly, stepping in as if he owned the place. Then, with a wide grin, he clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder and practically beamed. "Meet my best best besttt friend, William!" he introduced dramatically, dragging out the words like an overenthusiastic host of a reality show. "He arrived just five days ago, and guess what?" Jungkook leaned in, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "My poor friend William is dealing with the terrible fear of losing people," he declared, dramatically patting William’s back with exaggerated sympathy.
William, tall and well-dressed, offered a polite nod, his lips twitching in amusement.
Jungkook, as expected, was far from done. He threw an arm around William’s shoulders and cooed sweetly, "Don't worry, babe. I am here!" His voice dripped with faux concern, but the dramatic flair in his tone was unmistakable.
Taehyung sighed, rubbing his forehead. Where in the world could he escape to? Jungkook and his circle of friends were all so unbearably dramatic. Every single one of them. It was like they had all been plucked straight from a soap opera.
