Y/n POV

I stood there quietly in the soft glow of the moonlight leaking through the window, watching them—my two little worlds wrapped in mismatched blankets and even more mismatched personalities.

Their tiny beds were divided like two kingdoms in a cold war, the invisible line between them fiercely protected during the day with rules like:
“No touching,”
“No stealing each other’s pillows,”
“No crossing over without permission,”
and my personal favorite from Advait,
“Diplomatic unicorns must declare allegiance before entry.”

I had asked him once, “What happens if Aarohi steps over without permission?”

He’d said with a deadpan expression, “Then she faces the law of pillow attack. But only if she’s awake.”

Yet here she was now, completely draped over his bed like a sleepy koala.

I slowly sat down on the small pouffe beside their dresser. My back was sore. My legs were tired. My eyes wanted rest. But my heart—it was wide awake, overflowing.

I watched Aarohi’s little fingers twitch as she clutched her unicorn plushie tighter in her sleep. She looked so soft, so peaceful, and yet this was the same tiny queen who’d spent the entire afternoon bossing Advait around, ordering pasta like royalty and correcting my “unicorn language pronunciation.”

I turned to Advait—my little cold-hearted don—currently curled like a cinnamon roll, his face buried halfway into his star-shaped pillow, mumbling something about “security breach” in his dreams.

I sighed with a smile. “My little mafia and my little magician.”

Just then, Aarohi stirred.

Her lashes fluttered and she mumbled, “Mumma…?”

I leaned in. “Hmm?”

“I had a dream… the stars were falling but Advait caught them.”

“Oh, did he?”

She nodded sleepily, eyes still closed. “And he said… only unicorns know which ones are safe.”

I blinked, stunned. “That sounds like something he’d actually say.”

She smiled. “He’s my superhero. But don’t tell him. His head gets big.”

I chuckled under my breath and kissed her temple gently. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As I turned to tuck the blue blanket back around Advait, I felt a tiny tug on my sleeve.

He wasn’t asleep.

His voice was groggy but clear. “I heard that.”

I smiled. “Heard what?”

He blinked up at me. “She said I caught stars.”

“Well… did you?”

He yawned and buried his face back into the pillow. “Of course. I’m her big brother. I have to catch everything.”

I cupped his cheek softly. “Even falling stars?”

“And bad dreams,” he mumbled.

I swallowed, the weight of those words pressing warm and heavy against my chest.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” I whispered, brushing his hair back.

“Even when I punch people?”

I chuckled. “Even then. But maybe we can punch less tomorrow?”

He gave a sleepy nod. “Only if no one messes with Aarohi.”

I bent down and kissed his forehead. “Deal.”

I rose to my feet, adjusting the corner of Aarohi’s blanket where her feet had kicked it off. Then I turned toward the door and reached to turn off the moon lamp.

Just as I touched it, Advait’s voice came through the dark.

“Mumma?”

“Yes, baby?”

There was a long pause.

Then softly:
“You think Appa still tucks you in too?”

I smiled in the dark, heart caught in that unexpected sweetness.

“I think he never stopped.”

Silence again. But I knew he was smiling under the covers.

As I stepped out and gently pulled the door closed behind me, I whispered under my breath:

“My heart may be divided between two tiny beds... but it sleeps in one home.”

I didn’t mean to overthink.

Really.

But walking into the living room and seeing her—Jungkook’s so-called friend—curled up on the opposite end of the couch with a blanket around her shoulders, the television playing softly in the background, and him… him asleep like a storm had passed through him…

It didn’t sit right.

I stood there at the doorway for a long moment. My arms folded across my chest, heart tight in a knot I didn’t know how to untangle.

Was it rational? Probably not.
Was it fair? Maybe not.
Did it matter? No.

Because when it comes to Jungkook, my husband, my everything—I feel too much.

Always have.

I walked toward the couch slowly, every step heavy with hesitation. The kids were upstairs, sound asleep in their pillow fort. The house smelled like lemon floor cleaner and soft rain, but none of it helped soothe the wild sea inside me.

He was lying there, head tilted back, hair falling over his forehead, lips slightly parted. He looked peaceful. Too peaceful.

And yet, I could see the tension in his fingers, the faint wrinkle between his brows.

I crouched beside the couch and reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm.

“Jungkook…” I whispered, nudging him lightly.

No response.

I tried again. “Hey… wake up.”

Still nothing.

I pressed my hand to his chest and shook him slightly. “You fell asleep here. Come to bed.”

His lashes fluttered.

And then—

Without a single word, his arms reached out and pulled me in.

“Oh!” I gasped as I lost balance and tumbled right into his chest.

Before I could even react, his arms wrapped around my waist, tight and sure. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, still half-asleep.

“Mmh…” he mumbled, voice deep and husky, “you’re cold…”

“Jungkook,” I said, heart thudding now not from jealousy, but from this. From him. “Let go—I wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

He nuzzled closer. “Shh. Just… stay here.”

“Y-you were asleep,” I stuttered, my voice getting softer.

“You smell like the terrace,” he murmured, almost smiling. “I was waiting for you.”

I stiffened. “You were with her.”

“Mmm.” He didn’t open his eyes. “She was watching TV. I fell asleep.”

“I saw.”

Finally, he blinked his eyes open slowly, the warm brown of them searching my face. “You came to check on me?”

I hesitated. “Maybe.”

He stared at me a beat longer. “You’re jealous.”

I looked away. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

I looked back at him, glaring. “You’re smiling. Stop that.”

He leaned in closer, nose brushing against mine. “Then stop looking so cute when you’re mad.”

“Jungkook…”

“I missed you tonight,” he whispered. “You were with the kids for hours. Then on the terrace. I kept waiting.”

I swallowed. “You could’ve come up.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But she was—”

“She was crying about her husband. I gave her space. I stayed here. I fell asleep. That’s all it was, Y/n.”

I stayed silent.

He tilted his head, cupping my cheek now, thumb brushing over my skin. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know…” I admitted, voice barely there. “But it doesn’t stop my brain sometimes.”

“Then let me stop it.” His lips brushed against mine, slow and soft. “I belong to you. Every part. Every breath.”

I clutched his shirt, my voice trembling, “Sometimes I get scared that someone else will look at you and think… ‘he should’ve been mine.’”

“They can think,” he said against my lips. “But they’ll never be.”

And I melted. Every doubt, every fear, every petty jealousy—melting under the warmth of him, the truth of him.

“Come to bed,” I whispered finally.

He smiled. “Only if you don’t run this time.”

I smacked his chest lightly. “I didn’t run.”

“You marched.”

“…Okay fine, I marched.”

He stood up with a groan, stretching one arm before wrapping it around my shoulders.

As we walked back to our room, I glanced back once more toward the couch. She was still asleep, unaware of the storm I had just calmed inside me.

But in Jungkook’s arms, nothing else mattered.

Because no matter how tangled my thoughts became—he always knew how to unravel them.