𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊

53

When I wake up, Jungkook is already gone. 

I half-expected to feel the warmth of his body beside me, but instead, I find only the soft imprint of where he was. 

His absence lingers, but his text is waiting for me.

'Be home early'

The house is alive again, filled with staff bustling in and out, the air thick with the weight of too many armed men. 

I know why they're here; Jimin, Taehyung, and my husband are planning something, and whatever it is, it requires an army.

I should probably be paying more attention to the rising tension in the house, but instead, I decide to spend the morning in the library, painting. 

It's a gift for Jungkook. 

A small thank you for yesterday, for all the surprises, for making me feel like something precious. 

I want it to be perfect.

I angle my easel carefully, just out of view of the security cameras. 

I know Jungkook watches them constantly, and I don't want him to see the painting until it's finished. 

Just as I lift my brush, Eunji flings herself onto the chaise like a starlet in distress.

"I'm bored, and the house is filled with men who ignore me," she announces with a dramatic sigh, throwing her head back like she might faint. 

"Let's go out for lunch." I put down my brush and wipe my fingers on my smock. 

I don't particularly want to leave since Jungkook will be home soon, but the pleading look on Eunji's face makes me cave, 

"Alright, just let me text Jungkook." Eunji  immediately perks up, flashing a triumphant grin. 

But when I pullout my phone, there's already a message waiting for me.

'Take Eunwoo and Rio with you, only go to Serene and back home.' 

I frown. 

A second later, another text pops up.

'Please.'

I give a knowing look at one of the cameras and blow a kiss before relaying Jungkook's instructions to Eunji.

***

Lunch at Serene is wonderful as I indulge on an extra helping of tiramisu. 

It's perfectly creamy, melting on my tongue in decadent bites. 

I take my time savoring it, ignoring Eunji's teasing look as I scrape the last of it onto my spoon.

"It's a crime how much you love that dessert," she comments.

"A crime would be leaving any behind," I reply smoothly, washing it down with my third glass of water.