𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇𝓈 𝒫𝒪𝒱

It’s past midnight when the office finally goes quiet. The kind of quiet that presses into your ears.

Only one row of lights is still on, casting a warm glow over Jungkook’s desk. Papers are scattered, his jacket draped over the chair, tie loosened but not removed like he hasn’t let himself fully relax yet.

You’re sitting on the edge of the couch near the window, phone forgotten in your hand, watching him type. He looks tired.

Focused and dangerous in that calm, controlled way that makes your chest feel tight.

“You should go home,” he says gently, not looking up.