Desolate Innocence ||T.K.V||

▶︎Chapter 23▶︎

Jungkook was cocooned in warmth, wrapped in the silken sheets that felt softer than clouds and smelled faintly of cedarwood and something floral—like crushed violet petals in the rain. His breath was slow and even, his lips slightly parted in slumber. For the first time in a long time, he had slept deeply, without nightmares clawing at his chest.

The room was dipped in early gold—the kind of light that touched everything like it was precious. Gentle birdsong drifted through the tall windows, and beyond the lace curtains, the vast estate gardens stirred quietly in the dawn.

A soft chime rang—a custom alarm, not loud, but melodious, like wind chimes being kissed by a breeze.

Jungkook stirred, brows furrowing slightly before his long lashes fluttered open. His vision was still blurry from sleep, but he caught sight of the beautifully carved ceiling overhead—ornate designs of roses, and moons, circling a delicate crystal chandelier no bigger than a sunflower.

He blinked, then exhaled a soft sigh.

Stretching, he arched his back like a cat, arms above his head, feet poking out from under the thick duvet. A small smile curled on his lips as he remembered.

Their promise.

The date.

A flurry of nervous excitement rushed through him. He sat up slowly, letting his limbs adjust. His mind whispered questions: what would they do? Where would they take him? Would it be something extravagant and wild like Taehyung? Or quiet and hauntingly beautiful like V?

Or would it be both?

He pressed his palms to his warm cheeks.

"I have to look... good," he whispered to himself, half-embarrassed at the butterflies fluttering in his belly.

He rose from bed, feet touching the cool marble floor. Jungkook quickly freshened up, letting the cold water wake his senses. He brushed his hair twice—then a third time—and stared at his reflection longer than usual. There was a nervous glint in his eyes. His cheeks were pink, not from heat, but from anticipation.

Today wasn't just any day.

It was a date. His first real one.

He walked back into the bedroom wrapped in a thick robe, and approached the grand wardrobe. It creaked open slowly, revealing an array of carefully arranged clothes—some gifts from the Kim family, others his own, though they looked out of place beside the luxurious silk and dark velvet coats.

He stared.

Suits? Too formal.
Casual? What kind of casual?
Should he look soft? Or elegant? Or—

He groaned softly and let his forehead fall against the closet door. "What do people even wear on dates?" he muttered, voice muffled.

Was he supposed to look effortlessly beautiful? But not like he was trying to impress them? What if he wore something wrong? Would Taehyung tease him? Would V even notice?

He shook his head. Of course V would notice. He noticed everything.

Jungkook shifted through the hangers again, more frantically now. Silk. Wool. Ruffles. Buttons. He frowned deeper. Nothing felt right.

Then it hit him. A soft chime in the back of his mind.

Jisoo.

His savior. His sister. His wardrobe therapist.

He rushed out of his room, barefoot on the cold polished floors. The halls of the mansion were quiet, though the portraits on the walls seemed to watch him curiously, as if amused by his flustered state. The shadows of morning still lingered near the ceiling like cobwebs.