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Vienna left, the door clicking shut, leaving behind that damned cherry scent—just like at the Hive. The faint buzz of the fluorescent light above him felt like an insult—a cheap backdrop to this farce. Jungkook leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming a rhythm on the cold metal table, a useless attempt to keep his thoughts from drifting back to her. But of course, they did.

Damn her.

Vienna's image crashed into his mind again, relentless and unwelcome. He hated how, despite every rational reason to keep his distance, he couldn't stop replaying the way her eyes held his, maddening and tempting.

Attracted to a cop? What a sick joke.

It was more than just physical pull —though that was undeniable. It was also the way she made him feel vulnerable, like standing naked under a spotlight—every flaw laid bare. And that pissed him off more than anything.

A humorless chuckle escaped him, scraping his throat.

How pathetic of me... Cuffed to a table, yet obsessing over her. And why? Because she has freckles and looks at me like I'm some puzzle she needs to solve? Please.

Jungkook's jaw clenched.

She's a detective—a professional liar, just like the rest of them.

He had no business feeling anything for a cop. Jungkook shook his head, trying to banish the fog of emotions clouding his judgment. The last time he'd trusted someone in her position, it had cost him dearly. Those scars were still fresh, yet here he was, drawn to her like a fool to his doom.

He slouched in his chair, glaring at the ceiling. The irony wasn't lost on him. This was a dangerous game, and he knew better. Yet part of him—some reckless, stubborn part—refused to walk away.

Jungkook sat alone in that stuffy room for ages, the seconds crawling by as he stared blankly in front of him. It was the kind of silence that weighted you down with suffocating uncertainty. He had been through this before—too many times. But this felt different. Like something was closing in, and he was running out of moves.

The door creaked open, snapping him out of his thoughts. A guard stepped in, motioning for him to get up. "You're allowed one phone call. Come with me."

The handcuffs clinked as they were unlocked from the hoop on the table, and Jungkook followed the guard down a narrow hallway. The air was heavy with that stale precinct smell—sweat, dust, and despair. He was led into a small, equally depressing room—same fluorescent lights, an ancient rotary phone on a chipped desk like it belonged in a museum. Jungkook sighed as he picked up the receiver and dialed a familiar number.

It rang twice before his go-to laywer answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Eunwoo, it's JK."

There was a beat of silence, then a low chuckle. "Oh, great. What is it this time? Did you knock out a bouncer again, or are we going for the full 'Jungkook Special'—pissing off someone important?"

Jungkook couldn't help but smile. "I wish. It's... complicated this time."

"Of course it is." Eunwoo laughed on the other end. "You don't do simple. Where are you now? Please don't tell me you're calling from that hellhole bar on Cypher Street again."

Jungkook's expression tightened. "13th Precinct. Near West End Station."

There was a brief pause before Eunwoo let out a low whistle. "Oof. You've really outdone yourself. What happened? Flirt with the wrong cop? Or did you finally get yourself in deep?"

"A little of both." Jungkook let out a dry laugh. "Look, I need you here, but you're probably, what? Binge-watching old dramas in your underwear, right?"

"Underwear? Try a suit, genius. And replace dramas with an emergency client meeting. I'm out of town, JK. You really know how to pick your timing, don't you?"

"It's a gift. So, when can you get here?"

"First thing in the morning. Until then, do us both a favor and try not to turn the situation into a full-blown disaster. Can you manage that?"

Jungkook snorted. "Me? Cause a disaster? Never."

"Right. Keep living that fantasy." Eunwoo's voice softened, the teasing tone slipping just enough to let the concern through. "Seriously though, anything I should know before I dive headfirst into this?"

Jungkook hesitated, glancing at the cracked linoleum floor. "Nah. Just... bring your A-game. This one's worse than parking tickets."

Eunwoo's voice grew more serious. "Got it. Just sit tight, and I'll handle the rest. And JK... stay cool. Don't let them see you sweat."

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, though the knot in his stomach didn't loosen. "I'll do my best. See you in the morning, then."

"Bright and early. Don't die of boredom before I arrive."

The line clicked, leaving Jungkook staring at the phone for a moment longer than necessary. He finally hung up, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. If anyone could get him out of this mess, it was Eunwoo. But until then, all he could do was wait. And patience had never been his strong suit.

A few minutes later, Jungkook was back in the interrogation room. He heard the door open and felt the shift in the air even before he saw her. Vienna strode in like a storm rolling through—calm on the surface, but charged with an energy that made his thoughts scramble.

She approached the table, every move deliberate, professional. All control. Meanwhile, heat churned low in his gut. He forced himself to sit back, casual, even though the way she carried herself made him want to straighten up a little.

"Mr. Jeon," she began, her voice firm, with a low staccato that sent a jolt through him. "We're legally allowed to keep you here for 48 hours without charging you. Consider that your official notice."

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, trying to look unaffected, but damn if that raspy tone didn't do things to him. Her eyes locked onto his, and for a split second, the room felt a lot smaller. He tilted his head, smirking just enough to mask the tension twisting inside him.

"48 hours?" he drawled. "You really think you can keep me in here that long?"

Vienna stepped closer, too close for comfort—or maybe not close enough. "I don't think, Kook. I know."

He clenched his teeth, trying to block out the way her scent wrapped around him—elusive but quickly becoming addictive.

"That's a long time to entertain a guest, Freckles."

She didn't react to the nickname.

He was annoyed at how easily she got to him, how she could stand there, all authority, and still have him imagining her in ways that had nothing to do with the investigation.

She reached for his watch, her fingers brushing his wrist like a cold breeze on a warm day, sending a shiver up his arm. He tried to steady his breath, but his pulse betrayed him, pounding against the skin she had barely touched. The space between them felt charged, like the air just before a lightning strike.

Fuck.

His eyes darted to her hand, watching as she undid the clasp with that calm ease.

"That necessary?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than he meant it to be. "Taking the watch too? What's next, a strip search?"

Vienna's lips curved into a faint smile, but her eyes remained serious. "Don't tempt me."

For a moment, the tension broke, but just barely—a soft chuckle escaping Jungkook despite himself.

She removed the watch, sealing it inside a plastic bag, and Jungkook found himself resisting the urge to reach out.

"Comfortable?" she asked, a hint of mockery in her voice, though her eyes darted to his hands, as if checking for signs of tension.

"Comfortable as I can be," he muttered, leaning forward now, unable to help himself. "But gotta say, I've had better hospitality. You could at least offer a guy a drink."

Vienna gave him a steely glare, and leaned in just a fraction, close enough that he could see the amber specks in her irises, the small freckles on her cheeks, the curve of her full lips. "Hospitality isn't in my job description. You made a choice. Now, deal with the consequences."

The words hit harder than they should have, and his chest tightened with something more than just frustration. She was right, and he hated that.

But what he hated more was the way his body reacted to her—that even now, with everything hanging over him, he couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to kiss her, to press her against that cold, unforgiving wall.

"You're really good at this," he said quietly, his voice low, almost dangerous. "The whole 'tough cop' act."

Her gaze flickered, softening for a heartbeat before hardening again. She pulled back slightly. "It's not an act, Kook. And if I were you, I'd take this seriously. Because you're not charming your way out of this one."

She turned to leave, and for a brief, desperate moment, his hand twitched towards her, as if of its own accord. The words lodged in his throat, thick as honey, refusing to come out. She paused at the door, lingering long enough to let him know she wasn't done with him yet.

Neither of us are done with this. Not by a long shot.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the room felt colder, emptier. But even as he sat there, alone again, all he could think about was the next time she'd walk through that door. And he hated himself for it.

But it was the same guard from before who walked in and uncuffed him from the table. "Get moving."

Jungkook rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the stiffness as he followed the guard. The hallway outside was a bleak stretch of nothing—just another lineup of walls and doors like a million others.

Instinctively, his hand moved toward his wrist, reaching for a watch that wasn't there. "When do I get my watch back?" he muttered.

The guard didn't bother with a reply, just jerked his head forward. Jungkook exhaled sharply, the irritation prickling beneath his skin. He was halfway to snapping out a sarcastic retort when something snagged his attention—a board filled with photos.

It wasn't the usual clutter of evidence or suspect mugshots. No, these were faces—women, staring out with haunting eyes. He halted mid-step, his gaze locking on one face in particular—the one Vienna had shown him.

But it wasn't her that made him stop cold. It was something else, pinned off to the side, that made his pulse stutter. The world around him narrowed, the bland walls and the guard's presence fading into nothing as his focus zeroed in on that detail. It was like someone had reached into his chest and twisted.

It can't be.

The guard cleared his throat, but Jungkook's feet stayed planted. His mind scrambled, trying to understand what he was seeing. His breathing quickened, a strange sensation tightening in his throat.

This is bigger. So much bigger than I thought.

Before he could make sense of it, a shadow slid into his peripheral vision. Broad shoulders and a stiff stance that had the guard straightening up. The man didn't have to say anything—his presence did all the talking. He stepped in front of the board, cutting off Jungkook's view.

The guard gave a nod. "Captain."

Jungkook clenched his teeth, swallowing down the exasperation rising in his throat. He let it go for now, and allowed himself to be steered away, leaving the board behind.

By the time they reached the holding cell, that thing he saw was seared into his memory. And he couldn't unsee it, couldn't stop the flood of thoughts that followed. The details were still murky, but the shape of something ugly was starting to form.

This isn't just some random murder. It's all connected.

The cell door clanged shut, the echo ringing in his ears, but his mind wasn't in that cell anymore. It was back in the hallway, piecing together the puzzle that promised to be darker and more complex than he'd ever imagined.

Whatever twisted game they're playing, I'm not about to let them get away with it.

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A/n:
And this concludes
day 2 of the story.
What was your favorite part?

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