˖ ֹ੭୧ Jυᥒgko̲oK ⊹ ࣪ (10)

The world ended too quickly. One day you were discussing names for the baby, the next, the streets were filled with an eerie silence and people who simply...stared. After that, things were never the same again.

Now, you walked slowly through the house where a group of survivors tried to coexist. Your enormous belly betrayed that labor was near, making each step more difficult. Jungkook wouldn't leave your side, even though it ended in arguments almost every day. He complained because you insisted on helping; you retorted that you weren't made of glass. The others complained about the noise of the fights, the food running out, the constant fear, and the rules that seemed to change as despair grew.

The windows remained covered. No one dared look outside. One moment of carelessness was all it would take to never return.

The nights were the worst. You could barely sleep with the baby's kicks and the inexplicable sounds coming from the street. Jungkook pretended to be resting, but always woke up at the slightest movement, adjusting the blanket, checking if you had a fever or needed water. It was his way of saying he loved you, even when hours passed without exchanging a word.

The group survived by luck, not by organization. Each trip to get supplies felt like a farewell. And, as her pregnancy drew to a close, everyone knew that a newborn could mean hope...or put them all at risk.

That morning, a violent bang echoed at the door of the house.

Nobody breathed. Another impact. And another.

You automatically clutched your stomach.

"It won't open..." someone whispered.

Jungkook positioned himself in front of her almost instinctively.

"Stay behind me."

Outside, a voice began to call for help.