Heartbeat // JK

26 - Welcome to LA

The city looked hazy through the oval window.

Gray clouds. Mountains in the distance. A skyline too tired to shine.

LAX loomed beneath us like a secret waiting to be told.

My hand tightened on the armrest as the wheels touched down. A soft thud. The engines roared in reverse. And suddenly, it was real.

I was here.
Not in a dream. Not in a plan.
Just... here.

My phone stayed off. My thoughts didn't. They spiraled quietly — everything I'd run from, everything I was running toward. But under all of it, threaded between the nerves and the noise, was this steady, unreasonable hope.

That he'd be there.

The gate wasn't like the ones I knew — no crowds, no overhead calls, no families rushing off to baggage claim. Just a side terminal. Quiet. Polished. The kind of place you don't find unless someone pays for you to be found.

Two men in discreet black coats were waiting just past the jet bridge. Not airport staff — they moved too smoothly, eyes too sharp.

"Ms. Simon?" one asked, already scanning the sparse terminal behind me.

I nodded.

They didn't ask for ID. They didn't ask why I was there.

"This way," he said.

One walked ahead. The other stayed just close enough to keep me moving, but not enough to draw attention. No one else seemed to notice us. Maybe that was the point.

We didn't go through baggage claim. Didn't stop at the exit doors.

Instead, we turned down a hallway marked "Authorised Only" — the kind of hallway most people don't even see, let alone walk through.

At the end, one of them held the door.

"He's waiting," he said quietly.

The door opened with a soft click.

And there he was.
Jungkook.

Hood up. Black mask in one hand. The other shoved into his pocket like it could hold him together.

He looked tired.

Not from lack of sleep — from holding back a thousand things all night. His eyes found mine like he'd been scanning every door for hours. And then he exhaled.

Like breathing hadn't been possible until now.

Neither of us moved right away.

I took one shaky step.

Then another.

And he met me halfway.

No words. No smile. Just his arms around me in an instant, pulling me in like the world had narrowed to this — this moment, this breath, this body against his.

My face found the curve of his neck. I didn't cry. I didn't speak. I just closed my eyes and let myself feel it.

The heartbeat.
The warmth.

The way his hand curled into my jacket like he was afraid I'd disappear again.

He didn't move.

Just stared at me like I wasn't supposed to be real.

Then, quietly—

"You're really here?"

I nodded, breath catching.

"I didn't know where else to go."

His jaw flexed. A breath broke in his chest.

"You didn't even tell me—"