Ignore mistakes, please

Third person p.o.v-

Jungkook stood there, unmoving, as if he were a statue carved from the coldest marble. His eyes, seemed hollow, as if they held no emotion at all. He watched you, absorbing every word you hurled at him with an eerie calm, like the eye of a storm, silent and foreboding, while you unleashed your fury.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," you began, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "But now, you're acting so strange, you know. Is this because I still remind you of that Y/N girl? Or is this just another twisted way for you to mock my pain? It's revolting to see this side of you. Just be the person you used to be, because with this behavior of yours, you are making me cringe."

Jungkook's expression remained unchanged as he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on you with a chilling detachment. "Are you done?" he asked, his voice low and measured, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you. "Now, I would appreciate it if you went and packed your stuff, or..."

That was it. The last thread of your patience snapped. How could he stand there, so unaffected, so cold, after everything you'd just said? Your blood boiled, your anger flaring hotter as you cut him off, your words spilling out before he could finish his sentence.

"Or what?" you snapped, stepping closer, your voice dripping with venom. "What will you do? Shout at me? Insult me by calling me a whore or slut?''

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, darkening to a shade that sent a chill down your spine. Your words cut deep, dredging up a past he'd tried to bury. The guilt was instant, sharp as a knife, twisting in his gut. He'd crossed that line before, and the memory of it lingered like a bitter taste in his mouth. But this time, he hadn't meant to say any of that. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he fought to find the right words, but you struck again, not giving him the chance to defend himself.

''Or are you going to choke me again, just like last time, just because you felt like it? Or maybe this time, you'll go further, and just kill me outright." 

Your voice, laced with a daring challenge, hung in the air between you, fueling the storm that brewed in his eyes. The moment those words left your lips, everything shifted. In an instant, his hands were on you—strong, unforgiving, seizing you with a force that made your heart stutter. Before you could process the sudden change, he drove you backward, slamming you against the cold, unyielding wall. The impact sent a shockwave through your body, a startled gasp ripping from your throat as his grip tightened, but in a protective manner.

You stared up at him, breathless, your chest heaving as his towering form cast a dark shadow over you. His eyes, once hold no emotion, were now pools of black fire, burning with a fury so intense it felt as though it might consume you. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, filling the small space between you with a tension so thick it was almost tangible.

For a moment, all you could do was tremble beneath his menacing gaze, fear mixing with a heady rush of adrenaline, leaving you dizzy. It was in the way his eyes bore into yours, as if he could see straight into your soul and claim it as his own.

"Don't," he began, his voice deep and menacing. "Don't you dare say something like that ever again. It's not funny, damn it," he gritted out, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt?. "You let out these words like it's nothing, but do you have any idea how they tear me apart?''

Her hand  dripping with blood,  slumped down as he lifted her.

His breath quickened, each inhale a struggle against the torrent of memories that surged in, unbidden and relentless. These were not just memories—they were ghosts, shadows of a past that clung to him like a shroud, haunting him with a pain that time refused to heal.

His fists clenched, knuckles whitening as the images of the past flickered before his eyes, sharp and vivid as a knife's edge. His gaze darkened, the hurt within them simmering just beneath the surface. Slowly, he released you from his embrace, only to pull you back even closer. One hand slipped around your waist, the other encircling your torso, drawing you into a protective grip that felt both possessive and desperate. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to comprehend the sudden intensity of his hold.

Her head lolled to the side, lifeless and heavy, as he cradled her close.

He pressed your body against his, leaving no space between you, not even for air. His heart pounded wildly, each beat a painful reminder of the past that wouldn't let go, his hands trembling.

Her heavily bruised body felt as cold as ice against his warm one.

With a sharp inhale, he pulled you even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck while inhaling your scent to calm his mind. It was as though he feared you might be torn from him if he loosened his hold, as though the past would come back to steal you away.

"God, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His warm breath brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. The intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloped you, invading your senses, making it impossible to think of anything else but him. "I know I've made mistakes—And I've apologized for that, and I'll do it again and again if that's what it takes. But do you have any idea how it tears me apart to think you see me as someone so... low? Do you hate me that much?"

You clenched your fists, desperately trying to steady your erratic heartbeat. The closeness of your bodies made it impossible to ignore the rhythm of his pulse, beating wildly against you—unsteady, just like yours. Yours raced from the overwhelming proximity, but his... perhaps it was fear?

"You're the reason for all of this," you finally said, forcing the words out as you gathered the courage to speak.

He let out a low, sorrowful chuckle, the sound reverberating against your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. The vibration of his laughter made your eyes close and back arch involuntarily, a response you couldn't control, even as you tried to keep your composure.

"I know, and I'm willing to do anything to erase this hatred from your heart." His voice was low, each word dripping with a desperate resolve. A tense silence followed, hanging in the air between you both like a heavy cloud, before he spoke again, his tone softening to a whisper. "I miss you."

The admission caught you off guard, a sharp jolt to your chest that made you flinch. You hadn't expected those words, from him. His breath was warm against your neck as he buried his face deeper into the crook of it, a gesture so intimate that it sent shivers down your spine.

"I worry about you," he murmured, finally lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes. The intensity in his gaze was almost unbearable, his voice tinged with an edge of raw vulnerability. "I worry that something stupid will happen, just like last time. I worry I won't be there, and you'll be gone forever. I worry that we'll never get another chance, and it's driving me insane."

You stared at each other, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. The tiny space separating your bodies felt suffocating, the heat of it pressing down on you like a weight. His muscles strained beneath his clothes, the tension in his body betraying the storm of emotions he was struggling to contain. For a brief moment, he looked fragile, almost breakable, his dark eyes searching yours with a silent plea. "Did you miss me, Y/N?"

The question hit you like a punch to the kidney. What was he even asking? Of course, you missed him. You'd been starving for just a glimpse of him, aching for his presence for years. The memories flooded back, overwhelming you—the days and nights you spent waiting, hoping, and praying that he would return to meet you. But would you admit it?

Hell no.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, the painful memories threatening to drown you. You blinked rapidly, desperate to hold them back, refusing to let him see how much his words were affecting you. You turned your head away, breaking the intense eye contact, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He let out a bitter, almost heartbroken laugh, the sound resonating deep within you. "I love it when you lie. But no matter how much you lie, your eyes speak the truth."

He continued, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, ""I clawed my way from the deepest abyss of Hell just to find your light, Y/N. I am bound to it, drawn to it, and I will not rest until I am utterly consumed by its embrace.'' his words made you turn your gaze towards him while he continued, ''You are my heart, my soul, my salvation, and my damnation. And I will never let you go."

His hands, rough yet tender, cupped your face with a possessive gentleness, pulling you closer as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He brushed his lips over your forehead, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "Every time I hold you, I feel like I can finally breathe. In a life drenched in lies and shadowed by danger, your presence is the only truth I know."

He placed a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, the warmth of his lips seeping into your skin, making you close your eyes in surrender. His words wrapped around you like a cocoon, drawing you deeper into the intoxicating pull of his embrace, where the world outside ceased to exist.

"I need you to survive, Y/N. Without you, I'm nothing but an empty shell, a ghost of a man, condemned to wander the shadows of my own despair," he whispered, his breath brushing your lips, each word a plea wrapped in desperation. The closeness between you was intoxicating, a magnetic force he never wanted to release.

"I can't erase the past," he continued, his voice rough, something that wrapped around your heart like a vice. "But we can create a future, one that burns away the darkness and lights our way forward. If I could turn back time, I'd rewrite every moment, but all I can do now is beg for your forgiveness and a chance to set things right." He pressed his forehead to yours, his lips ghosting over your skin in a fleeting kiss, while you stood, frozen, ensnared by the dark allure of his presence.

He continued, "I made a mistake and paid a huge price for it. Now you don't make another by defying me. Just trust me, this once." 

The bitter irony of his words sliced through you like a blade. The same man who had shattered your trust was now pleading for it. Your hands trembled as you placed them against his chest, a futile attempt to push him away, but his unyielding strength made it impossible. You looked into his eyes with a sad smile, drowning in their intensity, and whispered, "Trust you? Trust is a delicate crystal, Mr. Jeon. Once it shatters, all that remains are the shards of pain."

Tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, he whispered, "But even the most exquisite glass can be reforged in the hottest flames, princess, and would emerge stronger and more beautiful than before. Pain is but a shadow that fades, when confronted by the light of our bond. Let me be the one to heal those wounds I've caused, to prove that what we share can withstand anything. Trust me, and together, we'll turn that pain into something extraordinary."

His words ignited a storm inside you, twisting your emotions into a tangled mess. But you refused to let him see the chaos he'd caused. With a forced calm, you muttered, "What if I don't want to?"

A deep sigh escaped his lips, his hands still cradling your face with a tenderness. "Then I would force you to comply," he murmured, his gaze steady and unwavering.

His reply was like a sudden, frigid wind. You jerked back, breaking free from his grasp, your voice rising with defiance. "You're only going to make me hate you more with all of this."

A slow, almost mocking smile spread across his lips. It was unnerving how quickly he could shift from gentle to menacing, like a flickering flame that could either warm or burn. "Don't you hate me enough already?" he asked, a cruel glint dancing in his eyes. 

"If hate brings you closer to me, then, I won't mind adding one more reason to the list,'' he shrugged. "I don't want to hurt you by forcing you into anything, but I will if it means keeping you. Because losing you would be the worst kind of pain."

"My God, you are a weirdo," you said, making a face.

He chuckled. Rubbing his temple, he said, "Maybe I am. But you'd better get used to it, because I've waited for this day far too long." The intensity in his eyes made you frown, unsettled.

Sensing your bewilderment, he continued, his voice low. "You've got questions, and I've got the answers. I'll give them to you, one by one. Back then, when we were young, I had nothing to offer you, nothing to shield you with. But things have changed." He leaned in, his breath fanning across your skin, his words a dark promise "So take everything I give you without exception. I swear it won't be anything harmful—not to you."

Before you could respond, the door burst open, and Hana stepped into the room, her presence a sudden intrusion into the taut tension hanging between you. Your heads turned sharply towards her. "Jin ae, dear," she began softly, "we understand your situation. We're not forcing you into anything. If you don't want to go, then—"

Her words were abruptly cut off by Jungkook's voice, firm and unyielding. "She agreed, Mrs. Han." You turned to him, your gaze burning with unspoken questions, but he refused to meet your eyes.

"What? Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, kiddo!" Hana's excitement was palpable as she rushed forward to embrace you, her arms tight around your shoulders. "I'm going to tell your dad right away!" she beamed before hurriedly leaving the room. Jungkook's eyes met yours then, a ghost of a smile on his lips—one that didn't reach the cold depths of your gaze. You both stood there, staring at each other, the air between you thick with unspoken tension and unresolved emotions.

You wanted to protest, to argue against this agreement that had somehow been decided for you. But his words... his words had burrowed deep, sticking to your heart like barbed arrows. There was a sincerity in his tone that you hadn't expected, a vulnerability that felt too real to be a lie.

Was he asking for too much? No. not really. Wasn't everyone deserving of a second chance? Even him? And if, in doing so, you could finally get the answers you so desperately craved, then perhaps—just perhaps—

it wouldn't hurt to give him one.

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