Every morning, Jungkook wakes up in his sizable queen bed. He has been blessed with a lovely internal clock since birth, and he always wakes to peaceful silence and sunlight streaming in through the slats of the blinds. Well, silence, albeit the slow, gentle breaths that escape Marie's mouth as she slumbers beside him. He turns on his side and wipes the residue of sleep from his eyes, careful not to wake her with his groggy movements.

He doesn't know why he makes surveying his wife's profile a part of his morning routine. Jungkook has been married to Marie for the past two years, and nothing about her has changed. She sleeps stilly on her back. Jungkook often teases her by calling her a log, as she never moves once she's situated on her back. She has the same straw-colored blonde hair, all wrapped up in those odd curling devices. Jungkook's eyes travel over her smooth forehead, down the straight slope of her nose and the freckles that dot her skin. Her cheekbones transition nicely into perpetually rosy cheeks, and her thin lips are slightly chapped, as she breathes through her mouth when she sleeps. Only when she sleeps, though. Marie makes a point to breathe through her nose in her waking hours, stating the sound mouth breathing makes must be unattractive to him. Jungkook had told her not to worry about such trivial things, but Marie had insisted.

Marie insists on a lot of things in that odd and indirect way. She insists on ironing Jungkook's clothes for him, because it wouldn't please him to do such menial tasks. She insists on cooking each evening because Jungkook would hate not to come home to a warm supper after a long day's work. She insists on doing the dishes, since Jungkook would be inconvenienced. She insists on changing things because it will please Jungkook, but Jungkook has never once expressed displeasure with anything in the first place.

Pretty, Jungkook's brain reminds him think offhandedly as he continues to take in his wife's features. Marie is pretty. He has known as much ever since his older brother pointed her out from across the dance hall. "That girl's a doll." Seokjin had said, slapping Jungkook on the shoulder. There Marie had been, decked out in the pink swaths of fabric of a dress that billowed down to mid-calf. "Right, Kookie?" His brother had continued, and only then did Jungkook nod, straightening his jacket. "Go get her, kid. She's been staring at you all night." Jungkook knows he's rather handsome, but still, he never notices when women look at him. Had Seokjin not pointed Marie out to him, Jungkook probably would never have seen her.

Jungkook snaps out of his memories with a quiet sigh. He rolls over and quietly gets out of bed. His feet stabilize on the cold hardwood floor, and he stretches, wistfully looking back at the mess of sheets and blankets he left behind. He thinks the tangled sheets are oddly beautiful, proof of a good night's sleep, yet flawed and unpicturesque. Jungkook knows their beauty won't last. Another thing Marie insists on is changing the sheets to a fresh set of Egyptian cotton each day, and making the bed up, resorting the pile of sheets to neat folds and edges.

Jungkook yawns as he makes his way out to the coffee percolator. Putting on a pot, he then walks to the front door to retrieve the morning newspaper. The sun is too bright for his eyes to adjust, and he is greeted with a slight chill on the doorstep of his brown stone. It's September, and the warm August weather is slowly diminishing each day. Jungkook has always been more of a winter person, so he's looking forward to the first New York City snow. Marie hates it, hates when Jungkook comes home from work and drags muddy ice and rock salt from the street in on his shoes and onto the carpet. Jungkook thinks it's pretty, at least before the grimy feet of all the New Yorkers tread on it and transform the glistening whiteness into murky brown slush in the gutter.

Thinking of winter, Jungkook can't help but smile to himself. He contentedly pours himself a mug of coffee and sits at the table with his newspaper, unable to wipe the tight smile off his face. It fades when he realizes it has been a long time since he has been excited for something, and that it took so little to bring him joy after not being enthusiastic about most anything for a while. No, his brain reminds him, when Marie threw you a party for your birthday a few weeks ago. You were happy then. That's right. He was happy. He is happy. How could he forget the party?

Marie invited a couple of his colleagues from the firm, his best friend and next door neighbor, Yoongi, and their wives. She had ordered a catered dinner and dessert, and Yoongi had brought a bottle of champagne. Jungkook had not been planning to make such a large ordeal out of his twenty-fifth birthday, but Marie had other plans. That night, after everyone had left, Jungkook felt exhausted. He was an introvert by nature, and his social battery had been absolutely drained. As sweet an idea as the party was, he much would have rather spent it with just Marie or Yoongi, or even alone with a good book. He had been brushing his teeth when Marie's hands has wound around his midsection. Her palms smoothed over his toned chest and abdomen. "Did you have fun today, dear?"

"I did. Thank you." Jungkook said, continuing to brush his teeth. He knew what was coming, but he was not in the mood at all. All he wanted was to go to bed.

"Good." Marie murmured, before grabbing onto his wrist and guiding the toothbrush away from his mouth. She pulled him to turn around and face her and plucked the toothbrush from his fingertips. "Would you like to have some more fun, darling?" She whispers, gently placing his hand upon her breast. Before Jungkook can express how little he wants to do anything but sleep, her other hand slides down his stomach to palm him through his slacks. Jungkook exhales sharply on instinct, and Marie smiles. "That's what I thought."

They made love that night. If you could even call it making love. Just like how nothing about Marie ever changes, nothing about the way they have sex ever changes. It feels less like an act of passion and more like a chore. Marie beneath him, stiff and unmoving as he hovers above her, breathing heavily into the crook of her neck. When Marie finishes, he knows, not because she shows any signs of pleasure, rather, she tenses up even more. Jungkook pretends to finish as soon as she does and discards the condom in the garbage, before dropping an obligatory kiss on her forehead and returning to bed and falling asleep to avoid thinking about it any longer.

Jungkook finishes his coffee and the daily comics in the newspaper. He knows Marie thinks he reads up on the stock market each morning, but even the idea bores him. He washes his mug and puts it on the drying rack before tip toeing into his room to get dressed in his suit for the day. As soon as he finishes tying his shoes and his tie, he looks back at Marie, still sleeping peacefully. Jungkook knows she'll beat herself up about not waking in time to make him breakfast before work, but he honestly can't find enough energy in him this morning to pretend to like the way she caters to his every whim she thinks he has.

Jungkook has never quite understood the way women seem to live to serve men. His mother hadn't, and had taught him that to treat a woman like a servant is to disrespect a woman. His father died in the Korean War, and his mother had worked as a nurse to provide for himself and Seokjin. That's how Jungkook knew women were fully capable of providing for themselves, having their own aspirations, and being independent. Jungkook grew up seeing a strong woman firsthand, so when he moved in with Marie, he did not know she would be any different. Perhaps acts of service are Marie's love language, but Jungkook is far from fluent.

When Jungkook first brought Marie home, mother had said she liked Marie fine, but he could read her like the back of his hand. She would never tell him, but Jungkook could see a sense of disappointment in her eyes. Marie was so far from the vision of a woman his mother had instilled in him, and it was clear that his mother could tell.

Jungkook makes his way out of the house and into the September air once again. Briefcase in hand, he begins his fifteen minute walk to Wall Street. Jungkook loves the city. His commute to work is unarguably one of his favorite parts of the day. While some people are like him (reserved, quiet and serious, making their way to their nine-to-five), others are the complete opposite. Some are walking their dogs, others are singing on street corners, even more are laughing and talking with friends. They look free. Jungkook wants to be that free someday.

When Jungkook makes it to his firm, he catches his supervisor on his way in. Kim Namjoon is an intelligent, yet very sociable and charming man. Most people on Wall Street are one or the other, but Mr. Kim is a refreshing combination of both. Jungkook rather likes him.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon. How are you on this fine Wednesday?" Mr. Kim asks enthusiastically as they pass through the revolving door.

"I'm well, sir. And you?" He asks politely, and Mr. Kim chuckles a bit.

"Mr. Jeon, we have had this same conversation almost every day for three years. I refuse to believe you are well every single morning." Mr. Kim informs him, and Jungkook shrugs, managing a tight-lipped smile. He would never tell Namjoon this, but it secretly makes him happy to know that at least one person actually cares how he is. "No person can possibly be so pleasant."

"Perhaps I am a bit tired, sir." Jungkook gives in a little. It isn't the full truth, but it also isn't a total lie. He is tired, exhausted, really, but he can't quite pinpoint what he's tired of.

"Good to know. It proves you're just like the rest of us, after all." Mr. Kim says. Jungkook doesn't know who "us" is referring to—other lawyers? Other men? The human race as a whole? "Anyways, Mr. Jeon, I trust you're prepared for tomorrow morning's case?"

"Rest assured, sir. I have my defense ready." Jungkook informs him, and Mr. Kim grins, clapping Jungkook on the back colloquially. The case is relatively big for being a defense lawyer—a man was charged with murder, and Jungkook has no doubt he'll be able to relieve the man of his sentence and prove him innocent. It's a departure from the more standard cases he is used to getting, but his name is on the rise in the circuit. He can't remember when he last lost a case in court, and this places him in the good graces of the firm. He has been given more and more felonies than misdemeanors lately.

"I should have known I didn't need to ask. You're one of our best, Mr. Jeon. I'll definitely be there tomorrow to watch, and I just might need to put in a good word for you with the big boss." Namjoon compliments him, and Jungkook pulls that same tight smile. It feels unnatural to smile wider than this.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be in my office should you need me." Jungkook says, putting an end to their conversation.

"Sounds good, Mr. Jeon. Oh! Before I forget, I have another case for you. I'll have my secretary run you the file." Mr. Kim informs him, and Jungkook nods. He likes Mr. Kim's secretary, Anne. She is always very assertive and to the point, something so rare in women nowadays. She is very feminine, all soft curves and shimmering lipstick, but has a typically masculine command over a room that Jungkook admires.

"Splendid. Anne knows where to find me." Jungkook states.

"Oh, and another thing, actually. Anne just took off for maternity leave, so I'll be having a new secretary in the interim." Mr. Kim says, and Jungkook hums in response, internally disappointed that Anne won't be around. Jungkook hadn't even know she was pregnant and hopes Anne won't be forced to give up her job to stay home and raise her kids. He then immediately feels guilty for wanting children not to have their mother around. Jungkook just settles for hoping the new secretary isn't submissive and spineless. He already deals with that at home.

"Very well. Have a good day, sir."

"You do the same, Mr. Jeon."

They go their separate ways, Mr. Kim to his big office on the third floor, and Jungkook to a smaller one on the second. Most people of his caliber dream for the spacious office that belongs to Kim Namjoon, but Jungkook is content in his own. It's small, but it's cozy, and Jungkook has an appreciation for it. He especially prefers it to his little cubicle he started out in at the firm three years ago. He has a little potted plant on the windowsill that he waters with water from the bathroom sink that he dutifully collects every few days. There's a framed wedding photo of himself and Marie, the same tight smile upon his lips. His desk chair is a little squeaky, but it adds character, Jungkook thinks.

With a satisfied sigh, Jungkook sits down at the mahogany desk and begins to work. He loves being a lawyer. There's something so fulfilling about being the reason why an innocent person doesn't go to jail. His brother, in contrast, is on the silver screen, acting in the Hollywood movies that play at the drive-in. Marie once asked him if he was jealous of Seokjin's success, and Jungkook had replied that he wasn't without any hesitation. He was perfectly content with law. So content, in fact, that he works tirelessly for three whole hours before hearing a knock on the door.

"Come in." He instructs, continuing to write in his messy scrawl. The door reluctantly swings open, and Jungkook doesn't bother looking up; he already knows who his visitor is. Kim Namjoon's new secretary. Jungkook doesn't even want to bother getting to know this one if it isn't Anne, the other woman had the bar set so high.

"You're Mr. Jeon?"

Jungkook looks up abruptly when the voice is far from female. It's slightly lower, but not as deep as his own, and has such a smoky, sultry quality to it that takes Jungkook off guard. The appearance of the owner of the voice provides explanation for why his voice practically oozes sex. He is a man, a couple inches shorter than Jungkook with shiny raven hair and dressed in a dark suit. His face is what truly makes Jungkook's brain go blank of all words, though. Angular, sharp features tempered by full, mildly chubby cheeks and even plumper lips. His eyes and nose are shaped in a way that is unmistakably Korean.

Jungkook experiences a warm, twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach, but then feels a pang of repulsion. Jungkook is straight, he has no doubt about that. The secretary just has particularly striking, androgynous features. That must be it.

"You can stop gawking, sir. I know male secretaries are uncommon—"

"Forgive me, but that's not why I was staring." Jungkook blurts out, and promptly wants to slap himself out of stupidity. He watches as the secretary's eyes fill with curiosity, and a gentle smile appears on his full, pink lips—Jeon Jungkook, stop looking at his lips, he scolds himself.

"Oh, really? If not that...why?" The secretary asks, and Jungkook panics a bit, but buys time by standing up, smoothing his jacket and walking around his desk to properly face the secretary.

"I was trying to figure out if you're Korean." He covers smoothly, and the secretary chuckles lightly. That sensual quality never quite leaves his voice. "Are you?"

"Yes, sir." He says, and Jungkook feels that twisting feeling again when the secretary utters those two words and looks up at him. "My family is from there. Is it that obvious?" He says, gesturing to his face, humor in his voice that makes Jungkook's lips turn up in his signature tight smile.

"Wild guess. I guess it's a sixth sense. I'm from there, too, actually." He says, and the secretary grins.

"I figured as much. Your name couldn't really get more Korean. I mean, c'mon, Jeon Jungkook." He says, and Jungkook lets out what is almost a laugh. He's so unaccustomed to laughter that it comes out as a couple sharp exhalations of breath. The secretary can only maintain eye contact for a few seconds at a time, and it's odd, but Jungkook knows that he would be breaking eye contact if the secretary wasn't. Something about him is oddly off putting. "To be fair, though, I thought you would be some old Korean dude with male pattern baldness and a beer belly. You are very much...not that." He says, and his voice sounds a little breathless by the end of the sentence, as if he was thinking of things to say faster than his mouth could cooperate.

"It would suffice to say that you're nothing like I expected you'd be, either, Mr...?" Jungkook trails off, and holds out his hand to shake in meeting.

"Park." The secretary speaks up, and slips his smaller hand into Jungkook's waiting palm. His fingers are small and warm in comparison to Jungkook's constantly cold hands. The secretary's eyes flick up from their conjoined hands to Jungkook's own obsidian irises. "Park Jimin." Park Jimin. Park Jimin. Park Jimin. Jungkook's brain repeats the three syllables like a mantra.

"Definitely has a ring to it." Jungkook says absentmindedly, too focused on the way Jimin's hand feels in his own. Once he catches himself, he feels that sickening twisty feeling and releases his hand quickly. "Is that my case from Mr. Kim?" Jungkook asks, gesturing to the stack of manila folders clutched in Jimin's other hand. As if remembering the purpose of his journey to Jungkook's office, Jimin quickly hands over the folders.

"Yes, sir. I triple checked, everything should be in order. Mr. Kim was very insistent that I make a good impression. He says you're one of the best and that I'll probably be seeing a lot of you." Jimin explains as Jungkook skims the files, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He hums as he reaches the back end of the stack after finding no filing mistakes.

"Well, you succeeded. I'm rather impressed." Jungkook says, and Jimin smiles again, that bright, blinding smile that makes Jungkook lose his train of thought. "Welcome to the firm, Mr. Park. I won't keep you from Mr. Kim for too long." He brings their conversation to a close, needing time to process that lingering, gut wrenching feeling that comes with whenever he thinks too long about Mr. Park. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Believe me. The pleasure's all mine." Jimin says, and like that, he's out the door, shutting it behind him. Jungkook stares at it for a couple seconds, perplexed. He has never met a man like that before, someone as captivating. Must be his unusual features.

His unusually handsome features. Jungkook's brain pipes up.

Shaking his head as if to clear away the thought, Jungkook rolls his shoulders, situates the file on his desk, opens the first folder, and begins to read.

hehehehe hi everybody it's me r starting another story when i have so many other unfinished ones that i should finish but here we are🤪

hope you like this so far, it's pretty different for me :)

xo,
r