— 𝒥𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑘𝑜𝑜𝑘

The room was filled with power. Men in tailored suits, women in expensive dresses, whispered conversations where every word concealed a threat disguised as courtesy. You were there, as always, back straight and head held high. Not because you wanted to, but because that's how you'd been trained. And then, you saw it. Jeon Jungkook Dressed in black, with slightly disheveled hair and that smug smile that made your blood run cold. Their families had hated each other for years, seizing territories, men, money… blood, but at these kinds of gatherings, violence was disguised as diplomacy. That's why, when Jungkook approached with a glass in his hand, you couldn't simply ignore him. "You don't look so bad tonight, princess." You rolled your eyes in annoyance. "I don't need your compliments, Jeon." Jungkook let out a low laugh. "Always so prickly. When will you accept that you enjoy this as much as I do?" "Enjoy what?" you asked coldly. He bent his head, getting just close enough for his breath to brush against your skin. "The game," she whispered. "The tension. The way you pretend to hate me when in reality..." His gaze slowly traveled down your body before returning to your eyes with a spark of danger. "If you've never imagined what it would be like if you and I..." Your blood boiled in your veins. "Maybe... And you?" Jungkook smiled maliciously. "I'm imagining it right now." Your fingers closed around your glass. "And what does it look like?" He leaned in even further, his voice reduced to a whisper that only you could hear. "We are alone in a room, watching ourselves in a mirror." The air left your lungs, not out of surprise, not out of indignation, but because the image he had just planted in your mind ignited you in a way you would never admit, and Jungkook noticed it; his smile widened because they both knew that this damn game was only just beginning.