You arrived home earlier than usual. The apartment was quiet, just how you left it. But the moment you clicked on the kitchen light, something felt off.

There was a half-eaten bowl of ramen on the counter and dirty dishes you did not use in the sink.

You stepped back and reached into your bag for your phone, ready to call the police, when the bathroom door suddenly opened.

You spun around.

There he was.

A guy in his mid-20s stepped out, toweling off his damp hair. His eyes widened the second he saw you. He froze. You did too. For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

He was tall, with soft-looking black hair still dripping with water, and a simple black shirt clinging to his shoulders. He held the towel in one hand like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Oh,” he said finally, in a low voice. “You’re home.”

Your heart raced. “Who are you?!”

He took a breath, as if preparing for the worst. “I’m… Jungkook. And before you freak out, I can explain everything.”

“I’m not a thief who broke in…” he added quickly, an embarrassed look on his face. “I’ve been living here too. Just… at different hours. I crash in the guest room when I’m off tour. The landlord… kinda forgot to mention me.”