a/n: sorry this took so long to write, life had been keeping me soooo busy for the last few weeks 😭 anyways, I mapped out the rest of the plot and there will be a total of 17 chaps with one epilogue yay!! all the chaps will be longer so might take a bit longer for me to write the whole thing but will try my best!! hope u stick till the end 😻😻

once again, thanks for voting and commenting!! 💘💘💘💕💕

Twenty pairs of eyes were following Yerim's every move.

And no matter how many times she tried to shake them off, they wouldn't stop looking. They stared at her as she sat down in the kitchen, glared at her as she accepted the cup of water Jungkook poured for her, and mocked her as she awkwardly sipped on the water. She didn't remember feeling this way the last time she was at his apartment.

"Where did you get the painting from?"

Jungkook was getting another cup from the cabinet when he turned around to look at the source of all her discomfort. "That? I went to Amsterdam a few summers ago and got a replica of the 'Night Watch'."

"It's-"

"Beautiful?"

"I was going to say 'creepy'."

"Creepy?" He sat down across from her, exactly where he sat the time she got drunk and woke up at his place. If she remembered correctly, they had also drawn up the contract in this same position. Funny how time was so relative because that morning felt like a lifetime ago. "Do explain."

"Those eyes." She shuddered. "They're too realistic, like they're following me."

He grinned. "Really?"

"Has the painting always been here? I don't remember it from last time."

"Yep, I haven't touched it since I hung it up years ago."

"Oh." She took a sip of the water. "I didn't know you were a fan of art."

Jungkook shrugged. "When I'm free, I like to go to museums." As she sat ruminating over that fact, he reached across the table and tugged on her fingers. "You're about to crack the ceramic."

Yerim released her grip around the handle of the mug and caught sight of the red grooves welted into her skin. Maybe the painting wasn't creepy. Maybe her imagination had conjured that horror into real life. Maybe she was actually distracted by this weird mixture of anticipation and nervousness and regret swirling and solidifying inside her. Or maybe the painting was indeed possessed by the ghost of the painter.

She honestly didn't know.

"You look nervous."

Her laugh sounded more like a choke. "Me? Nervous?" She finished her drink and slammed the cup onto the table. "The last time that happened, Earth was still a barren planet."

Jungkook pretended to look horrified. "In other words, you're old and wrinkly."

"And you don't have taste," Yerim shot back, the words naturally coming out, as easy as breathing. This was familiar territory, the light javelins they threw at each other for giggles and faux domination. "Joy showed me a picture of the original dress you chose for my mom."

His shoulders shook with laughter as he stood up and held out a hand. "Come on. The movie is already on TV."

Yerim ignored the hand, but she did follow Jungkook to the couch. She waited until he sat down before choosing a spot that was as far away from him as possible. In fact, by the time she was situated, she was basically straddling the arm rest, body leaning halfway off of the couch. Not subtle at all, she insisted to herself.

Tucking her knees against her chest, Yerim looked over the chasm separating them and met Jungkook's amused eyes.

"What?"

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Nothing."

"I'm not nervous about us, by the way." He didn't ask, but she felt a strong desire to explain. "I'm just worried about the deadline coming up."

He nodded. "In two days."

"I'll enjoy the movie, though."

He hummed in agreement.

"Besides, I'm on my period." She waved her hand at the space between them knowing full well she was lying. "That's why I don't want any human contact. I get picky about that."

He nodded again, cheeks twisting with an effort to suppress his smile.

Yerim pursed her lips. "Are you going to say anything?"

Jungkook shook his head. "You seem to have a lot to say."

She turned to face the TV, suddenly wanting to sink into the couch and never talk to him again. "Play the movie."

He chuckled before unpausing the screen.

They had chosen the movie last night through text, a conversation that somehow lasted thirty minutes because both of them apparently had bold opinions about the topic. Too slow. Too many flashy scenes. Too sad. Too long. Too many irrelevant characters. (She wasn't going to lie; she enjoyed the back and forth.) They finally settled on a movie about aliens, spaceships, and missions.

Ten minutes into the movie, Jungkook went to the kitchen and unconsciously, her eyes left the screen to stick on his backside. They stayed there for the next few minutes, forgetting about what "blinking" meant. She couldn't see what he was doing, but she heard plastic crinkle before he opened the microwave. Putting the bag in, he pressed a button, and before long, the rich smell of butter and the satisfying pop-pop-pop sound of corn kernels dancing in the heat filled the apartment.

When the microwave stopped, Yerim teared her eyes from him and focused on the TV.

She felt him walk back to the couch and sit down, the cushion dipping from his weight; she also felt his heat, stronger and hotter than before, and she whipped around to snap at him to give her space.

However, her retort died before it left her tongue because Jungkook looked adorable holding out the popcorn bag and asking, "What happened?"

Heart pounding, she grabbed a handful of popcorn and said, "Something about... aliens killing..."

"You weren't paying attention?"

"I was! You were just super noisy."

He nodded, a grin tugging on his lips again.

"Just watch," she snorted.

And he did that.

The rest of the two hour movie passed quickly. It was an interesting story, but Jungkook's commentary every then and now was what actually made it even more interesting. In no time, she began to relax, all her focus directed towards the movie instead of the creepy painting and his broad back and shoulders. Besides her, she could feel Jungkook relax, too. In fact, she got so comfortable, his knees bumped and settled against her thighs a few times and she didn't even notice nor mind.

When the movie ended, they turned to face each other at the same time.

"That was great," Yerim said.

"So great," Jungkook repeated.

Sometime during the movie, they had finished the popcorn, which now lay discarded next to his left leg. He grabbed it, and one flyaway popcorn, the bastard it was, flew across his lap in a perfect arch to land perfectly in between her legs. She flinched.

"I-" He pointed at the escape artist. "It's right there."

Still trying to catch up, she looked down in disbelief.

"Here." Jungkook reached out a hand. "Let me."

Yerim didn't have a chance to stop him. Suddenly, his fingers were grazing her thigh, the light contact searing burn marks through the thick material of her jeans to her skin. Unwillingly, she shivered. She would be lying if she said she hadn't been thinking about what had happened that day at the meeting room. The scene playing and replaying in her mind like a broken record. Leaving behind hot flashes in the deepest, darkest part of the night.

He paused. And then she realized that he definitely noticed her reaction to him because his fingers pressed against the inner part of her thigh.

"Alright, buddy," she abruptly said, mind flinging itself into overdrive. She stood up and exhaled, trying to calm herself down. "I can get it myself."

"Yerim," Jungkook growled.

Okay, he didn't growl. But with her name on his lips, probably the second time he had ever said her name, and the raspy quality to his voice, it was like he had just growled. Her hands clenched. At which point did she start liking her name in his mouth when only a few months ago, she hated it?

"Come here."

Yerim ignored him.

A hand circled around her wrist and turned her around. His head was tilted up, his long hair spilled over the top of the couch, and his Adam apple bobbed. He looked like a god, sitting there with his large thighs taking up more space than necessary and his eyes shiny and dark.

"We need to talk."

She pulled her wrist back. "Yes, about my portfolio."

He narrowed his eyes. "No, not about that. We need to talk about our-"

Yerim coughed. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about that. It was just that trying to put a label on whatever was happening between them was too hard. She wasn't ready for the official boyfriend-girlfriend label, yet she liked him. She didn't want to keep on following the rules of their fake-dating contract, yet she was too scared to throw herself into something that didn't have any official rules to fall back onto. It made her head hurt, and with the portfolio deadline coming up soon, she didn't want any distractions.

"Our fake-dating contract is almost ending, anyways," she said, "Let's talk about it then."

His eyes were still in slits.

"I don't want any distractions. This is too important to me."

At that, he softened. "You promise that we'll talk about it in two days?"

She nodded, feeling a bear trap clamp around her heart.

"Okay." He nodded. "Okay."

Yerim exhaled. Crisis potentially averted. She sat back down next to him and pulled her knees up to her chin again.

"So, are you actually on your period or was that an excuse to sit away from me?"

She grimaced. "A lie."

Jungkook didn't look offended, though. His voice was teasing when he said, "I guess you won't be getting any ice cream or chocolate."

Before Yerim could protest, he laughed, stood up with a quick flick to her forehead, and fast-walked to the kitchen. This time, when she watched him get the food, a hand pressed against her now-burning forehead, the only thought passing through her head was that this was nice. Simple. Peaceful.

When he sat back down, handing her a bowl of strawberry ice cream with two Kit Kat bars sticking out of the sides, she took a bite and almost moaned. It was delicious. Melting on her tongue and warming her heart. She looked at him for confirmation and paused. "What?"

He blinked, breaking his intense gaze. "Nothing." He shook his head. "Just reminded me of when we got ice cream after the wedding. You really like strawberry ice cream."

She nodded, frowning. "I do."

Jungkook shoved a huge spoonful into his mouth. "And now I'm wondering what you like and dislike."

Oh. Yerim swallowed. "I dislike cockroaches."

"Me too."

"And I like strawberry ice cream."

"I noticed."

"What do you like?"

His tongue peeked out to swipe a bit of ice cream off the deepest dip of the spoon, and her eyes unconsciously tracked every movement. "I like cats."

"Dislike?"

"The sound of blades slicing flesh."

"What about your parents?" Yerim blurted out, and then immediately cursed at herself. It had been in the back of her mind ever since the wedding; she had just forgotten about it until he mentioned the event. And with them talking about likes and dislikes, the question had come out without a second thought. However, she was regretting her lack of filter when she saw his grip on the spoon tighten. "You don't have to answer-"

"Yes, I dislike them," he practically spat out.

For a second, she was flattered that he trusted her enough to answer.

Then, despite her best self, she went right back into her conflict zone. She didn't ask questions like this, preferring to stay to herself, to the point that even her friends didn't know the extent of the guilt she felt towards her mom. Before, she had been curious about his answer, but now, she was scared of knowing.

Yet, every conflicting thought she had also drove her to disregard her screaming instincts. Him taking care of her while she was sick. Him driving her home in the rain and apologizing. Him throwing her birthday surprise. Even as simple as him buying her peaches.

So, she waited for him to elaborate.

"Honestly, I don't even mind my parents being strict. In a way, I understand. They run one of the largest architecture firms in the country, and nobody wants to come down once they're at the top." The bitterness in his words didn't reflect his meaning, though. "However, that's also their downfall. This desire to always be number one, to stand on their mountain and not care about others."

Her heart ached at the guiniue tortured look he had on his face. He also wasn't looking at her, which was a first. Hestitately, she reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder.

"They lied to protect-" That one word was venom on a snake's forked tongue. "-me, but in reality, it was to protect themselves. I was young, still learning how to be a good engineer, when they urged me to fix an apartment building as my first project. And when it didn't come out great, when their pride blinded their eyes from seeing any mistakes, and part of the building collapsed, injuring three and killing one, they hid all the evidence and refused to repent for their mistakes."

She didn't know what to say nor what to do, not when he was shaking underneath her grip, not when the spoon softly clanked against the bowl. Slight tremors that could be hid from anyone who didn't know him well. His face was also still composed, passive and cool, but that in itself sent alarms off in her. Jungkook was a master at handling situations: the more chaotic, the more calm he was. It was a necessary skill as the leader of a huge group, but she knew it could also be detrimental to him.

Clank clank.

Yerim wanted to hug him, do everything with him, but at the same time, do nothing.

Instead, she grabbed his bowl, the condensation on its smooth surface cold against her warm skin, and set both of their ice cream bowls onto the coffee table. The room became silent.

She thought the story ended until he said.

"My parents paid the firm I was working with to stay quiet, too, and it's been buried ever since." Jungkook shuddered. "Even though what I did..."

"It's not your fault."

He closed his eyes.

"Jungkook." His name felt foreign on her tongue. "It's not your fault."

Opening his eyes, he glanced at her. She briefly thought that it was crazy he hid his emotions so well. "Thank you."

"I'm serious. It's not your fault," she repeated.

Jungkook nodded. "Thank you." He smiled weakly. "I've been to therapy. It's been helping. Sometimes, though, the guilt still eats me up."

This must be why he was so strict with everyone, drilling down to every single detail and criticizing everyone as if they were amateurs with no experience in the field. It all stemmed from his insecurity of messing up again.

They sat in silence for a moment, both connected by a mutual understanding of each other, of why they both had defenses and insufferable qualities. Her, an urge to make her mom proud. Him, an urge to never repeat his failures. It was eye-opening, a ray of sunshine illuminating what was once dark, and to her, scary as hell.

Her fingers itched to do more than rest on his shoulder; her body sang to be wrapped around his, to cocoon him from the rest of the world. For the first time in her life, Yerim wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into this feeling she was drowning in. To screw her reasons, to be irrational and daring, to jump off a cliff without any consideration to how dangerous the bottom could be. But, she knew that when she closed her eyes, the only person she would be able to see was her mom, not smiling her usual smile. No, not even close. And that image bothered and stopped her, like it always did.

So, she did the only thing she knew how to do. She changed the subject.

"Which firm did your parents pay to stay silent?" It was the only question she could think of in the spur of the moment.

"Star Services."

...

Jean was surprisingly strong.

Yerim hadn't expected Jean to lift up the three boxes as if it weighed nothing, nor had she expected to spend one of her rare free afternoons at Jean's place. Yet, here she was, standing in Jean's tiny living room; surrounded by rows and rows of small mushroom statues and flower pots though, she felt like she was actually in the garden. The fact that the household's black and white cat, Pebbles, who was fluidly weaving around the display, didn't knock any over was a miracle.

"Thanks for helping me move." Jean wiped sweat from her forehead. "Jungkook told me he was busy with a meeting, so I didn't want to bother him."

"Of course. One of our contractors had a last minute issue, so he had no choice but to go."

"And he chose to be a manager?" Jean playfully rolled her eyes. "Such a fool."

Yerim cracked a smile, bending down to pet Pebbles, who was rubbing the length of his body along her leg. "Such a sweet cat," she commented. "How long have you had him?"

"Six years now. Jungkook actually rescued him, and I wanted some company, so it was perfect."

Thinking back to what Jungkook liked, Yerim knew Jean was telling the truth. Rescuing a stray cat sounded exactly like him. He was strict, picky to a fault, when it came to work, but when it came to what was important to him, he had the nicest, warmest heart. She stroked Pebble's head, over the black spot sitting right between his ears, and grinned.

"You don't need to do a lot of the lifting," Jean said, bending over to pick up another box. She huffed. "Just wanted help cleaning up the space. I've been living here for almost twenty years, so it probably picked up a lot of dust and grime."

"Twenty?" Yerim grabbed the supplies Jean had dug out and started on the windows. "That's a long time. Why are you moving now?"

Jean dumped the box onto the cart and said, "I've worked with Jungkook's family for so long that I forgot how the rest of the world looked like. Figured it was time to move on and live the rest of my life in a different place with a different story."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm moving to a house my son bought for me."

"Son?!" She didn't know why she never thought that Jean could have a family besides Jungkook.

"Surprising?" Jean laughed. "A lot of people tell me that, but this shows just how much time I've spent here. My son is thirty years old, about to have his first baby, so I'm moving near him to help take care of his baby when he and his husband are busy."

"That's really nice."

"Just doing what I should do." Jean picked up another box and dropped it onto the cart, which was now three feet tall. "Let me load this into the truck first."

While she was gone, Yerim thought about how capable Jungkook's nanny was and finished cleaning the windows. She moved onto the next piece of furniture just as Jean came back, the cart rattling against the hardwood floors. However, when she was safely back inside, instead of loading more boxes on the cart, she propped a hand on her hip and simply watched Yerim clean. After a few seconds, she asked, "Do you care for Jungkook?"

Yerim almost dropped the cleaning solution she was holding.

"I'm asking because I'm going to miss that boy when I leave and it's reassuring to know that he'll have someone to share his life with when I'm gone."

She swallowed, keeping her eyes on the light stain stubbornly attached to the surface of the table. "I do."

It was the truth, no matter how much her mind was protesting the latter part. 

"Good." Jean clapped her hands. "You're also part of the reason why I decided to leave now. You and your friends, actually. He has been talking about them ever since the birthday surprise."

Yerim paused. She had known her friends had liked Jungkook ever since that day, but she didn't know he also felt the same way. Or in better words, she didn't know just how big of an impression they left on him. "I don't understand."

Jean's soul looked shriveled when she explained, "That boy, he's great at talking to people, making connections, so he's never by himself. Besides people from the company, he also has me and a few friends he met in college who come to visit several times a year." She sighed. "I don't think he's ever been 'alone'. He's just never met someone and connected to them as much as he did to you."

"Is he..." She didn't want to say lonely, so she trailed off, hoping Jean would understand.

"No." Jean shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. "I wouldn't say that. Just doesn't know what he's missing out on."

Yerim's heart literally throbbed. Thinking back now, she rarely saw him with anyone besides his business partners, not in the years that they have worked together, nor in the months they have worked on her portfolio. Everything about him was work. Did anyone welcome him home after a long day?

"He told me about what happened with Star Services," she said quietly.

The previous effort she was putting in to scrub off the stain disappeared because all she could think about now was Jungkook and Star Services. Immediately after she went home that movie night, she had decided to decline Thomas's job offer, feeling guilty for getting his help and going behind his back.

All was going well until he texted back saying that even if she didn't want the job, they were willing to pick up her portfolio. She hadn't accepted it, reasoning that she could wait until she submitted some with Jungkook, but now, with what Jean said, she didn't know if that action itself was a betrayal or not.

"Really?"

Yerim nodded.

Jean hummed quietly. "He cares about you a lot."

Her "I know" was quieter than before.

"He's only ever told one other outside person that story, and they ended up getting documents and betraying him." Jean sighed, kneeling down to play with a cardboard flap. "The world is cruel."

Yerim felt her heart throb harder.

"Enough about him, though. Let's talk about you." Jean picked up the box she was playing with. "Jungkook told me about your deadline coming up. Yesterday, if I remember correctly? How is that going?"

"Great." Yerim continued to scrub vigorously. She liked this topic more. "I actually turned in my portfolio this morning."

Jean looked horrified. "And I forced you to help me move boxes? I-"

"It's okay!" She dipped the rag into the bucket. "I had nothing else to do anyways."

"If you're too tired, though, let me know."

She nodded, smiling.

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Pausing, Yerim grabbed the edge of the bucket and looked up at Jean, who was loading boxes with a vigor not fit for someone her age. "What do you mean?"

"Based on what Jungkook has told me, it sounded like the portfolio was your life goal."

"I..." Yerim frowned, looking back down at the murky water. She honestly hasn't thought of that question, mostly because she knew nothing else besides finishing this portfolio, making her mom happy. "Yes." For some reason, that one word came out more like a question.

"So, what's your goal afterwards?"

The image was flitting, the thought as quick as light, as hard to grasp as air, but momentarily, it was as strong as diamond, as clear as a sunny day: the image of Jungkook holding out a hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. Be with me, he mouthed in her imagination.

Yerim shrugged. "Find my next goal, I guess."