The door creaked open sometime around noon. Yn was curled up on the couch in the sunlit living room, her legs tucked under a blanket, a mug of warm tea in her hands and the letter he left earlier still folded on the coffee table.

She didn’t look up immediately. She didn’t need to. She could feel him—his presence, his energy—the moment he stepped inside.

“Hey,” Jungkook’s voice came from the hallway, quieter than usual, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to just walk in like this, even though it was his own home.

Yn finally looked up, meeting his gaze.

His tie was loose, the top button of his shirt undone. He looked tired, but when his eyes landed on her, he smiled.

“Hey,” she replied, warmth blooming in her chest.

He walked over, hesitating only for a second before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her lips .

“You read it?” he asked, nodding slightly toward the letter.

“I did,” she said, smiling. “I was impressed.”

Jungkook chuckled, a little shy. “Took me twenty minutes to write three lines. I rewrote it like… five times.”

“That was very you,” she teased. “But it meant a lot.”

“I meant it,” he said, his voice lower now, serious. “Every word.”

She reached up and held his hand. “I know.”

Time skips

The rest of the day melted into softness.

Jungkook had changed into a plain black hoodie and grey sweats. Yn was still in his oversized shirt, and they made lunch together in the kitchen—Jungkook chopping vegetables while Yn stirred soup on the stove, their hands occasionally brushing, their smiles coming easily.

At one point, he came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“You know,” he murmured, “this feels… strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Peaceful.” He pressed a light kiss behind her ear. “I’m not used to it. But I think I like it.”

They ate at the kitchen island, talked about everything and nothing, and after lunch, they cuddled on the couch—Yn lying across his chest, his hand slowly running through her hair as a movie played in the background, mostly ignored.

She didn’t ask him anything either, Jungkook cared what time it was. For once, neither of them was waiting for the other to pull away.

As the sky turned soft shades of orange and pink, and the house was quiet again, Yn turned slightly to face him.

“Princess ?”

“Mm?” she murmured, eyes half closed.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes opened fully now. “Always.”

“Why did you give us another chance ?” Jungkook asked softly. “Why did you… stay after what I did to you in the past ? After everything?”

He took a deep breath, gaze dropping for a moment before returning to hers.

“Because I clearly know one thing, kook I can't love any other guy rather than you I can't imagine my life .

I was going to hurt you,” he said honestly. “And the worst part was—I realized if I did, it would’ve been my fault. Not because I didn’t love you. But because I didn’t know how to show it. I thought if I held on too tight, you’d stay. But then I realised I was suffocating you instead.”

Yn’s heart clenched, tears pricking at her eyes.

“And when I meet again I have a chance,” he continued, voice quieter now, “when you gave me another chance… I knew I couldn’t keep being the same. You don’t deserve to be loved with fear and silence. You deserve softness. Safety. And I want to be the one to give it to you. I just… I need time to learn.”

“You’re already doing it,” she whispered, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “You’re showing me, more than ever.”

He leaned into her touch, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You don’t need to be perfect, Jungkook,” she said. “You just need to be real with me. That’s enough.”

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “Whatever version I become—I want it to be the one you deserve.”

She smiled, tears finally slipping down her cheek as she leaned in and kissed him softly. “Then stay like this… with me. Let’s figure it out together.”

“Always,” he murmured against her lips.

And just like that, wrapped in warmth and truth, they held each other close—not just with their arms, but with their hearts finally speaking the same language.

Meanwhile Taehyung 's POV

In Busan

Taehyung’s POV

The walls of the private clinic felt too pristine. Too sterile. The air smelled like antiseptic and secrets. Taehyung sat stiffly across from the middle-aged doctor, his fingers clenching the edge of the leather armrest. The nameplate on the desk read Dr. Seo Min-jae, the psychiatrist who was supposed to treat Jungkook five years ago.

“Tell me everything,” Taehyung demanded, voice low but heavy with restrained fury. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Dr. Seo exhaled slowly, avoiding his eyes. “Mr. Kim… I was appointed to the MR JEON’S case . But I never got the chance to speak to him. He refused therapy outright. The hospital made multiple attempts. Letters. Calls. Even his father begged him.” He paused, then looked at Taehyung with a haunted expression.

“But he never came.”

Taehyung's heart pounded in his ears.

“Then who treated him?” Taehyung snapped.

“No one,” Dr. Seo said simply. “He treated himself. And by that, I mean… he buried it. Deep. Unhealthily deep.”

Taehyung felt like the ground beneath him was splitting. “But I got a report which said he was getting better .

“He lied,” the doctor replied, voice quiet. “And worse, someone did try to help him later. Another doctor at the hospital… Dr. Choi. He must have reached out privately, off the books.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“Because he’s dead.”

Silence crashed over the room like a thunderclap. Taehyung blinked slowly, disbelief crawling up his spine like ice. “What do you mean he’s dead?”

Dr. Seo hesitated, then stood and walked to a locked filing cabinet. He retrieved a manila folder and laid it on the table like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Two years ago, Dr. Lee was found dead. It was ruled a suicide, but—” he opened the folder to reveal notes, scattered transcripts, and a single photo: Jungkook, pale and trembling, outside the hospital’s back gate.

“He left a voicemail for me. It was never officially released. But in it, he said something… strange. That he had told Jungkook something he shouldn’t have.

That he had mentioned someone named Y/N.”

Taehyung’s chest tightened so violently it physically hurt. He shot up from his seat.

“Y/N?” he whispered, throat dry. “Why would he mention her?”

Because she was the girl whom he was in love with at that time but something happened between them and the Girl ran away from him and after that Mr Jeon started to skip his therapies .

“Apparently, Dr. Lee told Mr Jeon that forgetting Y/N would be the best way to heal. That clinging to memories of her was preventing him from moving on.” The doctor looked up. “Jungkook didn’t take it well. And a week later, Dr. Lee was dead. No suspects. No signs of forced entry. But the timeline… it matches. Perfectly.”

Taehyung staggered back a step, the room spinning. Jungkook. Jungkook… he killed someone?

“ It's true Mr Kim ” Dr. Seo said quietly.

Taehyung clenched his jaw, his fists shaking.

“All this time,” he whispered. “He was never healing. He was hiding.”

The room fell silent. The truth settled like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating.

And for the first time in years, Taehyung felt afraid of the boy he once called his

STEP BROTHER .

TO BE CONTINUED ……