˖ ֹ੭୧ Jυᥒgko̲oK ⊹ ࣪ (16)

The desert seemed endless.

You were still screaming when Jungkook pulled on the horse's reins. The white dress, now covered in sand, was absurd for that escape—heavy, flashy, and, in his opinion, a real curse.

"Stop fighting," he growled. "I'm trying to keep us both alive."

You wanted to go back. Go back to the man who seemed in love, without imagining that, behind the gifts and promises, there was a destiny planned to destroy your freedom.

Jungkook knew. And perhaps that's what made it all the more irritating. He wasn't a hero. He grew up with little, lived in a simple house on the outskirts of Seoul, and had learned early on that money solved almost everything. In the underworld, his name crossed borders: robberies, smuggling, kidnappings, murders. If the payment was enough, Jeon Jungkook would do it.

This time, the contract was simple: kidnap you and deliver you to an Italian. Simple, until you showed up crying, furious, and determined to return to a man Jungkook considered a well-dressed monster.

After hours in the desert, with henchmen in pursuit, he led you to a small village. Now, you shared a cramped room while he planned your route to Italy.

"You don't understand," you said. "He loves me."

Jungkook remained silent. "That's exactly what worries me."

In the following days, living together turned into a silent war. You tried to escape. He found you. You called him a heartless mercenary. He replied that it was just work. But then came small moments.

He left water beside you without saying anything. You noticed he barely slept, listening intently to the sounds of the street. One cold night, he shared his own coat with you and pretended not to notice when you accepted it.

Jungkook still wanted the money. That's what he kept repeating to himself. But, for the first time in many years, completing a mission began to feel dangerously like losing someone.