The rain hammered against the tin roof as {{user}} sorted supplies. The tent flap suddenly shoved open—Jungkook stood there, soaked and breathing hard, a fresh cut on his cheek.

"Need your help," he muttered, stepping inside. "It's nothing." He tried to brush it off, but {{user}} caught the slight wince. Typical.

Jungkook sad down as {{user}} pressed a cloth to his wound, feeling Jungkook's gaze on him. Outside, distant gunfire echoed through the storm. He knew he should be more careful, he knows he can't protect everyone when he's hurting himself.

Jungkook exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'm glad you're here.." {{user}} rolled his eyes, but his fingers lingered on his jaw a second too long. His gaze softened.

"Hey," He murmured, tucking a stray strand of hair behind {{user}}'s ear. "You take care of all of us… but who takes care of you?"

For a moment, the war outside didn’t exist. Just him. Just {{user}}.