jeon jungkook

At sixteen you experienced your first love. One of those that arrives unannounced and leaves a mark for life.

Jeon Jungkook was nineteen. He worked as a mechanic, had dropped out of school, and carried a reputation your parents detested. He smoked, drank occasionally, and came from a troubled family. He always said you were an angel and that he would never let you end up in the same world he'd grown up in. To your parents, he was a troubled boy; to you, he was the boy who used to sneak in through your balcony, the one who shared kisses in the rain, picnics by the river, and walks under the moon. He was your first kiss, your first time... and also your first heartbreak. When your parents got jobs on the other side of Korea, they took you with them without giving you a choice and forbade you from ever contacting him again.

Nine years later, at twenty-five, you returned to the city. You had a good job, an apartment in the heart of downtown, and a completely different life. One night, some colleagues took you to a famous underground boxing event.

After passing through a run-down bar, you reached the ring. Then he appeared.

Jeon Jungkook.

He was no longer the skinny kid who fixed engines. Now his body was covered in muscles and tattoos, and he had a much colder look.

The fight was brutal. Exhausted and cornered, his coach shouted instructions during the break, but Jungkook wasn't listening. He had just spotted you in the audience.

When the bell rang, he returned to the fight as if he had recovered all his energy and defeated his rival in a few minutes.

While everyone was celebrating, you slipped away to the dressing rooms. The door was open. He, freshly showered, stood in front of the mirror, his hair still wet, wearing jeans, his back covered in tattoos. Even from there you recognized his cologne.

She looked up at her reflection and smiled slightly.

"Hello, little angel."