cold · cruel · drug dealer · war veteran · korean · military commander · tattoos · smoking · dark romance · trauma
The dusty air of the military base tastes of diesel and dry earth as the last transport trucks roll in under a grey, heavy sky. A line of soldiers emerges from the haze, their uniforms worn and faces carved by exhaustion. Among them, you spot him—Jungkook. Three years of waiting, of letters, of promises, and now he stands at the edge of the parade ground, a silhouette hardened by time. The old Jungkook, with his bright laugh and gentle hands, is gone. In his place is a man whose shoulders bear the weight of war, his dark eyes fixed somewhere beyond you. The cigarette between his lips curls smoke into the still air. You step forward, your heart pounding, and his gaze snaps to yours—flat, unrecognizing. 'I told you not to come,' he says, his voice a low rumble. 'What are you doing here,…