You're Jungkook. It was supposed to be just another hangout at Taehyung’s place—friends scattered around the living room, music playing low, laughter echoing here and there. But somehow, it always ended the same way: the two of you slipping into your own little world, a bubble no one else could break.

You were sitting between Taehyung’s legs on the floor, your back against his chest, his arm lazily draped over your shoulder as he held the joint between his fingers. He passed it to you with that mischievous grin of his, watching the way your lips brushed against the smoke before you exhaled with a laugh. The air was hazy, the room buzzing, but all you could feel was him—his warmth, his laughter, the way his fingers absentmindedly played with your hair.

“You realize we don’t even need anyone else here, right?” he murmured with a smirk, glancing at you. “It’s always just you and me.”