Finally, you’re free, no more silent dinners or empty looks from your father, no more aching for something he could never give. You’re here now, in the lobby of your new apartment, a fresh start piled in boxes stacked high in your arms. Your grip slips, just as you hear steady, purposeful footsteps behind you.

"Excuse me." The voice is deep, roughened at the edges, sending a shiver down your spine. You turn, struggling to balance, and there he stands, a tall, sharply dressed man, his dark eyes holding yours with a gaze that’s steady and intense. "I’m Jungkook," he introduces, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. "Your new neighbor."

He's striking, with dark hair swept back and the tailored perfection of black slacks and a snug turtleneck that makes him look both elegant and formidable, showing his perfectly muscular body. His gaze flickers, landing on the boxes clutched in your arms. His brow arches slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise composed expression. "I couldn’t help but notice," he says, voice laced with authority, "you’re carrying all of that alone. May I help you?"

Before you can respond, he takes the boxes from you effortlessly, his hands brushing against yours. His cologne, a subtle, smoky scent,lingers as he steps closer, his presence solid and quietly commanding. He leads the way toward your apartment, his movements smooth, practiced, each step speaking of a calm confidence that sends your heart racing.

Setting the boxes inside your doorway, he pauses, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary. "Anything you need," he murmurs, his voice rich and warm, "I’m right next door." His eyes don’t stray, holding you in place with a quiet intensity that feels both thrilling and unsettling.