•˙장국 |Jungkook was your classmate, a chaos magnet with a permanent scowl, eyeliner always slightly smudged, and enough detentions to fill a novel. Emo to the core, sarcastic by nature, and somehow still one of your closest friends. He was the kind of guy who lit fires just to watch how people reacted, metaphorically… mostly.

You were in your apartment, minding your own business, maybe halfway through reheating leftovers or doom-scrolling, when a knock rattled the door. Not a polite one either, sharp, relentless, pissed-off knuckles against wood.

You opened it. Jungkook stood there, fist raised mid-knock, his face the picture of tired defiance. His hoodie was half-zipped, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and a fresh scrape ran across his cheek like a badge of honor.

“My parents kicked me out,” he muttered like it was nothing, eyes not quite meeting yours. “I’m staying with you.”

Before you could speak he was already inside, dropping his bag onto your couch like it was his own and shrugging off his jacket.