Unbinding Tradition

THE SKY SHE CLAIMED 🕊

🌸 Author's Note Before You Read 🌸

Hey my precious readers 🤍
Before you dive into this chapter... I just want you to pause for a moment. This chapter... holds something very close to my heart.

I won't say much right now - because the words inside will speak louder. But I will say this: if you've loved "Unbinding Tradition" even a little... if Tae and Jungkook ever made you cry, smile, or feel seen... then please don't read this chapter in a hurry.

Read it slowly. Let every word sit with you.
And when you're done, please - leave a long comment (Target- 500+ comments) because this chapter is over 1000+ words and deserves to be felt together. Let's cherish it properly 💌

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It had been five years since that rainy night in the Jeon Residence, and life had shifted, quite literally, to newer grounds.

The sky above Jaipur glowed in gentle hues of peach and gold as morning sunlight broke through the lattice of ancient city walls and modern structures that had begun to blend into one another in this ever-evolving Rajasthani capital.

The streets buzzed faintly-fruit vendors unrolled their carts, women in vibrant sarees balanced pots on their heads, and rickshaws creaked over the cobblestone roads as they began their early day hustle. Camels lazily trudged past cycle-wallahs, and children dressed in crisp school uniforms chased one another through narrow alleys.

But far away from the crowded bazaars and regal palaces, nestled in a quieter, greener part of the city-near Civil Lines-stood a sprawling whitewashed bungalow.

Now a Principal Secretary in the Department of Education, Jeon Jungkook lived in that prestigious government accommodations-a spacious colonial bungalow nestled at the edge of Civil Lines, surrounded by well-trimmed gardens and shaded neem trees. Its white-washed walls and arched verandahs reflected a timeless charm. Pink bougainvillaea cascaded over the iron gates, and a brass nameplate on the wall read: Mr. Jeon Jungkook, I.A.S.

From the dusty lanes of rural Rajasthan to the bustling charm of Jaipur, everything around them had changed-except one thing: the madness of love and the chaos of family.

Inside this bungalow, in the heart of its master bedroom, chaos reigned.

The bedsheet on the large teakwood bed was tossed aside in crumples, the pillows thrown in all directions like fallen boulders after a storm. Soft toys lay across the floor in odd positions-one teddy half-smothered by a slipper, a cloth horse dangling from the footboard, and a wooden car upside down near the almirah.

A small figure buried under a heap of blanket stirred. The bedsheet shifted slightly before a mop of wavy black hair popped up, blinking in slow confusion. With a sleepy yawn, the little one sat up, chubby cheeks still squished from the pillow, lips parted as a line of drool hung near the corner of the mouth.