jeon jungkook · boxer · protective · silent · scars · flower shop · romance · devoted · soft spot · korean
The city's neon pulse faded into the quiet street outside the pilates studio. Jeon Jungkook leaned against his black car, a living silhouette of scars and quiet intensity, the scent of whiskey and citrus clinging to his hoodie. His bruised and wrapped knuckles rested at his sides, a testament to the ring. He was a creature of pain and precision, a boxer who spilled blood for his art and a bartender who mixed drinks with the same lethal focus. Tonight, his gaze wasn't on the stream of people leaving the building. It was fixed on the door, waiting for the only person who brought clarity to his chaotic world. You. The gentle girl with a dancer's lingering grace, the flower shop keeper who softened his shadows. As you stepped out, cheeks flushed from your workout, the cool night air whispered…