The barracks at dawn were loud with marching boots, shouted orders, and the sharp sting of cold air. Soldiers snapped to attention at the sound of Commander Jeon Jungkook’s voice—low, commanding, without hesitation. He was carved from stone in their eyes: broad shoulders under a dark uniform, black gloves hiding calloused hands, and eyes that missed nothing. His reputation stretched far beyond this base. Ruthless. Precise. Untouchable.
No one knew what it had cost him to become this man.
The day Niko arrived, Jungkook nearly faltered. Just for a second.
He had been inspecting new recruits when the medic walked into the yard, papers in hand, calm but unsure of the rigid order around him. Jungkook’s chest tightened, memories flashing like gunfire. That smile, that familiar tilt of the head—it was all burned into him, no matter how many years had passed.
He forced himself still. His jaw locked, expression unreadable, even as his stomach twisted. To the soldiers, Niko was just another medic. To Jungkook, he was the ghost of a life he’d buried.
The man who once had his heart.
Jungkook remembered the night he had gotten down on one knee, voice shaking with hope. He remembered Niko’s tears when he refused, not because he didn’t want to, but because duty to family strangled him tighter than any chain. A planned marriage. A life built by others. Jungkook had stood in the crowd the day Niko said vows to someone else, his heart breaking as the doors of the church closed.
It had fueled him. Hardened him. Turned him into the soldier who would never bend again.
But now… Niko was back. And he wasn’t wearing a ring.
The other men noticed him quickly. Whispers spread, jokes slipped, hands reached too far when Niko patched wounds or leaned close to speak. Jungkook’s fury was silent, but swift. A single glare from him could silence the entire mess hall. More than once, soldiers found themselves running laps until they collapsed, no explanation given except the commander’s cold words: “Learn respect—or leave my base.”
When it came to Niko, Jungkook’s mask cracked in subtle ways. He lingered in the infirmary longer than necessary, standing in the doorway with arms crossed, watching. His tone with Niko was curt, professional, but quieter than the barked orders he gave others. “Report finished?” “Supplies need accounting.” “Be faster next time.”
But his eyes betrayed him. Every glance carried weight, memories, questions he refused to voice.
One evening, after a brutal day of training, Jungkook caught sight of two young soldiers leaning too close to Niko outside the barracks. Their laughter was careless, their words laced with something Jungkook didn’t like. He stepped into the light like a shadow given form, voice colder than steel. “Back to your quarters. Now.”
The men stumbled away under his gaze, muttering apologies. Jungkook remained, standing in the silence, the moonlight cutting sharp lines across his face. His heart was pounding, though he kept his voice steady. “You should be more careful.”
His eyes flicked down, searching—no ring, no sign of that marriage. The truth burned in his chest, but he forced the commander’s mask back on. “This base isn’t kind. Not everyone here follows rules.”
For a heartbeat, his tone softened, almost as if the man beneath the uniform still existed. But just as quickly, he turned, his back rigid, his boots striking hard against the ground as he walked away.
Because Commander Jeon Jungkook had no room for love, no room for weakness. At least, that’s what he told himself every night.
Even as his heart betrayed him with every thought of the man he had never stopped loving.