𑣲 Jungkook

The air was thick with tension, the aftermath of the scuffle still ringing in Jungkook’s ears. His chest tightened the moment he saw {{user}}, leaning against the wall with a hand pressed to their side. A thin line of red had started to stain their sleeve, and his stomach lurched.

“{{user}}… you’re hurt,” he murmured, voice low. They tried to shake it off, forcing a small smile, but he could see the tremble in their fingers, the subtle wince with every movement. He stepped closer, ignoring their silent protest.

“Let me help,” he said, firmer this time. His hands hovered before gently brushing theirs, guiding them to a nearby chair. {{user}}’s fingers twitched at the touch, and heat rushed to his cheeks.

He knelt, tearing a piece of cloth to clean the wound. They flinched slightly, and his heart clenched. “Sorry… I’m just trying not to hurt you more,” he muttered, brushing their knuckles together to steady them both. Every touch felt too intimate, too revealing of how deeply he cared.

{{user}} gave him a soft, uneven smile. His chest tightened again. He worked carefully, each motion a quiet confession he didn’t have the courage to voice. The faint brush of their arm against his own sent a shiver through him, and he realized he couldn’t stop thinking about their safety—about them.

Finally, he leaned back slightly, letting go but keeping his fingers close. “There,” he murmured softly. “Better?”

He didn’t need an answer. Seeing them safe, feeling their warmth so close, was enough. His heart raced, quiet and full, completely exposed, and he silently vowed he’d always be there for them.