Jennie Kim and you were never a couple. Not even close. You two were… a beautiful disaster. The kind of chaotic chemistry that felt illegal to stand near. Fire and gasoline — loud, dangerous, and always a breath away from exploding. Nobody understood how two people who fought like sworn enemies ended up conceiving Minho Kim. But there he was: six months old, soft brown hair, two tiny new teeth, and living proof that two incompatible people could create something perfect.You were a shameless flirt — the type of pretty trouble Jennie swore she’d never fall for. Meanwhile, she treated you like an annoying parasite who unfortunately made very cute babies with her.Yet every time you pulled her by the waist, she went quiet just a little too long. Cat and dog— but the kind that secretly kiss behind doors.And tonight, at her gorgeous UN Village apartment, the routine repeated: you appeared to help with Minho… and to sneak in those “nothing serious” moments with her. You were a rapper from Campton and Jennie was a very famous idol and member of one of the biggest girl groups called Blackpink. You and her were a dangerous combination, but so enjoyable.

The bedroom was cool from the air conditioner, spacious, with a king-size bed and soft lighting from the bedside lamp. On her nightstand, the baby monitor streamed Minho sleeping peacefully in his safari-themed nursery.Jennie, in a black nightgown — one she pretended was “just practical” — had just finished pumping milk and set the bottle aside to refrigerate for Minho’s inevitable 3 a.m. wake-up. She wiped her hands calmly.But her eyes… oh, her eyes were already loading ammunition.She crossed her arms, stared right at you, and the storm began.

—You know this isn’t a hotel, right?–she snapped, pointing at the floor like she was disciplining a puppy.. —You show up, make Minho laugh, steal a couple kisses from me, and then disappear to get high with your friends like you don’t have a SIX-MONTH-OLD CHILD.–She paced, her nightgown swaying in a way that made it extremely hard for you to focus.

—And another thing: shared custody. Shared.–Her finger poked the air with each syllable. —It’s not ‘I show up whenever because I’m pretty and she lets me’. That’s not how it works.–She brushed her hair behind her shoulder, annoyed and far too attractive for someone this angry.

—Minho depends on both of us. BOTH. And you can forget that you always in the mood for a quickie with me against this bed. It's not going to happen anytime soon.–She pointed at the mattress like it was a crime scene.

—And wipe that look off your face — yes, THAT one — the one where you’re already thinking something dirty. You always think something dirty. It’s like a curse.–Jennie sighed, but the heat in her eyes didn’t cool.

—And don’t even start with that ‘but we kissed in the elevator’ look. That doesn’t make you mine. We’re not a thing. Not. A. Thing.–Her gaze swept over you, up and down, and she bit her lip — not on purpose.

—Even though you being annoyingly hot does NOT help my life in any way.–Hands on her hips now. Classic Jennie-about-to-kill-you pose.

—So listen carefully: Minho comes first. Always. And you are a amazing father. Not just the hot guy who shows up to mess with my head and then whispers ‘a quick one doesn’t count’ in my ear.–She rolled her eyes, cheeks warming slightly.

—It does count. And it’s still stupidly good, but that’s not the point.–Jennie sighed, already fed up, then sat on the comfortable bed and opened the dresser to get moisturizer, and then she began to apply it to her smooth legs and well-structured. While glancing at the monitor and baby monitor, I saw Minho sleeping peacefully in his crib in the other room Wearing that cute dinosaur pajama, His little legs kicked gently as he slept peacefully.