Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

32.

"Do you mind telling me why Kai followed us back to the house?"

The words hung in the air, thick with tension.

Jungkook, Jin, and I sat in the grand living room, the dim lighting casting long shadows against the sleek furniture. The night had been long, eventful, and utterly draining. Jimin had gone home to sleep off his hangover, and Taehyung had left straight for work, leaving the three of us alone in the unnerving silence.

Jungkook kept his gaze trained on the bowl of hangover soup I made, slurping lazily as if pretending not to hear me.

"Can't we talk about this later?" he grumbled, stabbing his spoon into the broth with unnecessary force.

He had been irritable since morning—partly due to the throbbing headache and Yoongi's wrath after he vomited all over the guest bathroom floor. But that wasn't the only thing bothering him.

I knew about the text. The one from his mother. I'd woken up to the sound of his voice, rough and low, arguing with her on the guest room balcony. I could only catch muffled fragments of the conversation, but I didn't need to hear the words to know it was bad.

Not that he would tell me.

He never wanted to talk about his family.

"Jungkook." I exhaled, reaching for his bowl and setting it onto the coffee table. Then, without hesitation, I straddled his lap, ignoring Jin's loud groan of disgust.

"Why do I always get stuck watching you guys like this?" Jin whined, rubbing his temples. "If this is some freaky way of hinting at a threesome, let me stop you right there—it's not happening."

I didn't dignify him with a response, only focused on the way Jungkook's bloodshot eyes met mine, tired and guarded. I cupped the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair, hoping to ease whatever turmoil was eating at him.

Jungkook sighed, tilting into my touch, tension melting from his body just slightly.

"Why is Kai here, Jungkook?" My voice was steady, but my heart pounded. "I deserve to know. I live here too, in case you forgot."

I watched the way his jaw clenched, the subtle flinch at my words. The sigh that left his lips made my stomach twist. He hated talking about things that made him vulnerable—hated opening up, even with me. Even now.

"I already know I can give you something Jungkook can't."

Kai's words from last night slithered through my mind, unbidden and unsettling.

Jungkook's hands settled onto my hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of my sweatpants. I bit my lip, ignoring the burn his touch left on my skin.

"He's... staying here," he finally muttered.

Thump. Thump.

My heartbeat stuttered.

I blinked twice, certain I had misheard him. "What?"

But Jungkook didn't take it back. His expression remained unreadable, and I searched for any sign of sick humor, any indication that this was some twisted joke. But there was none.

He doesn't even know. He doesn't know what happened last night.

I never told him. I never told anyone.

Because if Kai was as dangerous as I suspected, the last thing I wanted was to drag the people I loved into his game.

Just the three of us... This can't be good.

"Why?" Jin groaned from the couch, rubbing his face like the stress was just too much for his hangover. "Seriously, why?"

"See, this is why I don't drink," I muttered, but both men ignored me.