"Are we falling in love?" @xxe-jkk - Tumblr Blog

Feb 20

──── 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 | 𝗷𝗷𝗸 ⧽ THREE

𓄲 Jungkook sits in an armchair, he looks younger — or maybe it was the wide smile that stretched across his lips that deceived you. He was smiling so intensely that dimples dented into his cheeks, Jungkook had dimples, who would have thought?

전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) sickness & medicine very much implied absent mother

⧽ word count ⋮ 7.3k average reading time ⋮ 40 minutes

── [ ✉️ ] a dare is a dare and I am a man of my words. this chapter is such a roller coaster. a lot of emotions and a lot of tension between jungkook & reader, and we learn just a fraction more about the kids' mom. feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appriciated <3

series masterlist | last chapter | next part

chapter 03 — "could you stay?"

"Two principal subdivisions, presenting certain individual features." Your lips move silently as your gaze travels across the open page in front of you. "The axial, such as the spine and much of the skull…" The yellow marker leaves a sloppy trail in its wake when you highlight the line. "And the appendicular, where the pelvic and pectoral girdles as well as the cartilages of the limbs belong."

Hunched over the scrawny desk in your small apartment, you beat your brain with information on the human skeleton as you crammed as much as possible for your exam that upcoming week. Having missed out on your lecture two days ago, you had a lot to catch up on to be properly prepared — you couldn't afford to flunk this, quite literally.

Your past 48 hours had been spent doing nothing but studying. It was bad enough that you had started seeing branchial arches on the back of your milk packages, though that might have had something to do with your insufficient sleeping habits.

Thoughts of Jungkook and the kids kept you awake late into the night. The way he had looked at you that evening, the tension radiating off of him when you spoke up for Cassian. Arguably worse were the children's cold detachment to anything that didn't involve the schedule their father had set.

The guilt of having brought up their mother so inappropriately still gnawed at you as you tossed and turned for hours in the dark. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook had called you early that very next morning — informing you that you would not need to show up that day, or the day that followed.

He hadn't fired you, not officially at least, but it sure felt like being let go without even being offered the grace of an explanation. The landline sat quiet on your desk, untouched for a full two days. You kept stealing glances in its direction, teeth chewing your bottom lip to pieces as you considered calling him and asking if you had perhaps done something wrong.

Maybe he'd already found a new nanny for the kids? Would you look like a complete idiot if you disturbed him when he'd been clear that you weren't needed? Fingers drumming restlessly against your open textbook, its contents already forgotten about, you go over the sequence of numbers you had memorized, the ones going straight to his house.

You itched to reach for the phone, to dial for him and hear the line go through. The pads of your fingers brush against its cool surface, hesitating for a moment before grimacing and pulling back. "Don't be stupid now," You mutter, shaking your head as you grab your marker and turn back to your studies.

He would call if he wanted you there, you would just have to be patient. Deciding then that if you didn't hear from him by next Monday, you would allow yourself to give him a call. Turning back to the maze of the human skeleton in front of you, you continue to read.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes later when the ear piercing ring of your landline suddenly broke the silence. Jolting from your seat, the marker slips from your grasp as it clatters against the desk. You turn to the small machine, eyes wide and disbelieving as you watch it ring.

Slowly reaching for it, almost like one would a skittish animal, you pause just before picking it up. "It could be anyone," You tell yourself, heaving a breath as your fingers curl around the phone and you bring it to your ear. Whispering out a meek, "Hello?" You wait for whoever was on the other end of the line to speak.

Except it's not just anyone.

You instantly recognize the low rasp of Jungkook's voice. "Hey. Did I wake you?" He asks, but does not sound in the least apologetic, more like he was fact checking on how long it would take for you to be out the house if that had been the case. Glancing over at the clock, you realize that it was no more than 6:30.

"I— No, I'm awake." You didn't need to go into detail about the sleepless nights you'd been experiencing thanks to him. Instead you remain silent as you listen to the sound of his slightly unsteady breathing on the other side.

Jungkook clears his throat, "Can you be here within the hour?"

That was the earliest he'd ever asked you to come — not to mention the shortest notice he'd ever given you. But that wasn't what caught you off guard, no, it was the barely noticeable strain that laced his words. He didn't sound quite like himself, though whatever was wrong, you couldn't place your finger on.

Nodding, you're already rising from your chair as you close your textbook. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there," You pause, biting the inside of your cheek before asking, "Is everything alright?"

But the line had already gone silent.

The front door is unlocked when you arrive, it glides open under your hand without as much as a sound — contradictory to your own back at home, which would creak and whine. With caution you step over the threshold, half expecting someone to jump out on you at any moment. But the house is eerily still.

"Hello?" You call out, shrugging off your coat before hanging it up next to Jungkook's untouched one. The hallway was vacant, everything neatly put together in place yet not a single soul to be seen. That was strange. Slipping out of your shoes, your toes curl into the carpet as you awkwardly stay rooted in the spot, glancing back and forth as you waited for someone to come.

But no one did.

Finally you force yourself to venture further, peeking inside the empty kitchen as you call out. Without any response you head over to the living room, only to find it just as desolate as the rest of the house. Had you been mistaken? Surely not. Jungkook's voice over the phone still echoed in your head.

You turn toward the stairs, carefully moving up to the second floor. The steps groan under your weight, if anyone was home and had somehow missed your previous attempts at getting their attention — this was sure to.

The upstairs is still, the air thick and unmoving. Cassian's bedroom door is left ajar and your curiosity peaks as you approach. Hushed murmuring can be heard when you near, but what was being said still remains a mystery. Stopping just short of the threshold, you push the door open just enough to take a peek inside.

Cassian's room was just as tidy as it had been during your previous visits. His desk was clean and void of any clutter, save for the small hoodie that was folded over the accompanying chair. The only thing left unmade was his bed — currently occupied by the tiny boy as he laid under the thick covers.

His face was flushed with color, his nose a bright red like he'd been rubbing it constantly. And when he inhaled shakily, you could tell that he had trouble breathing.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the mattress, wearing a conflicted frown as his large hand rubs his son's head carefully. You pause in the doorway, eyes widening a fraction as you take in the unfamiliar sight of the kids and their father present in the same room at once. With the way he spoke of the children, you had expected Jungkook to be just as cold and brooding to them as he was to you — but he was awfully gentle as he tucked the blanket a little tighter around Cassian.

Neither of them seemed to have noticed your presence, and you took advantage of that as you watched them a moment longer.

"What about today?" Cassian croaked as he peered up at his dad from where he lay on the bed. There was an almost hopeful expression on his otherwise miserable face.

Jungkook shook his head, thumb brushing a strand of hair from the boy's forehead, "You won't go to school today."

The little boy pouted at that, the same pout you had grown so accustomed to. "But I already missed two days," He whines, tiny fingers clutching the bedsheets a little tighter.

Giving a light knock to the door, you draw both of their attention toward you in a second. Cassian's eyes widen like he hadn't expected you to be there — his father on the other hand, only glanced over his shoulder as his firm gaze found yours.

You step inside, feet moving soundlessly over the carpet as you come to a halt by the bed. "The front door was unlocked so I let myself in," You say, the statement directed at Jungkook who was watching you with quiet intensity.

He nods slowly before turning back to his son, "I left it that way." His fingers are still brushing through Cassian's hair, and you found yourself fixed on the tattoos that adorned his knuckles — how come you hadn't noticed them before? It didn't seem at all fitting for the man he presented himself as, your guess was that he'd gotten them years ago.

Cassian's strained cough is what snaps you from your momentary trance. His face scrunches up and he lifts a small hand to rub at his already irritated nose. Next to him, his dad sighs, the frown on his face etching deeper. "Is he feeling unwell?" You ask, taking another step closer and joining them both on the bed without thinking.

There's a noticeable tension to Jungkook's shoulders when your knee brushes his on the rather cramped mattress. He doesn't tear his gaze away from his son, the back of his hand pressing against his forehead to check his temperature. "He's been running a fever since Wednesday,"

Your eyes widen at the information, but when your focus returns to Cassian, you find that he was right. The tiny boy looked absolutely wrecked where he laid under the blankets, his small frame shivering slightly as he looked between you and his dad.

"I've been working from home," Jungkook continues in an almost monotone voice, "But I need to go in for a few meetings today." There was a slight rasp to his voice that hadn't been there before, and upon closer inspection you could make out the bags under his eyes and the slump of his otherwise stoic shoulders.

He doesn't wait for you to respond, giving Cassian's head one final pat before rising from the bed. When he turns to peer down at you, that same mask of cold indifference is back in place. "I'll be taking Rayne to school, there's medicine in the bathroom cabinet."

Nodding slowly, you shift a little closer to Cassian on the bed, hand smoothing over the covers. "Alright," You hum, watching silently as he turns and heads for the door.

With one foot on the threshold he pauses, eyes lingering on you a moment longer. His expression flickers with something unreadable before schooling itself back into detachment, like he was about to say something but then deciding against it.

The door shuts with a soft click behind him.

Cassian was not doing good. He kept coughing and sniveling — by 10am you had gone through two boxes of tissues, constantly wiping at his snotty nose as you mumbled gentle reassurances. It was impossible to tell exactly how he was feeling, he'd made no more comments about missing school after Jungkook had left, only letting you tend to him with a defeated acceptance.

You had whipped together a poor attempt at soup, hoping that the warm broth would help ease his sore throat and hydrate him a little. Sat on the edge of his bed, you were currently feeding him small spoonfuls.

"It's not too hot is it?" You ask, blowing on the food before bringing it to his lips.

He only shakes his head after swallowing, tiny hands clutching his teddy tightly. "It's okay," Cassian murmurs, his gaze fixed on the plushie as he fiddled with one of its fluffy ears.

You hum, preparing another spoonful. "How are you feeling?"

A quiet pout forms on his lips as he shrugs, "Tired." He wasn't very talkative like this, not that he ever was but now so even less. Since Jungkook left he'd barely even glanced in your direction, keeping his eyes stubbornly on the teddy or his own hands.

"You need to rest, how about a nap after you finish your food?" Bringing the spoon to his lips, you feed him another bite of the soup. Dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a tissue, you can't help but sigh as you watch him.

Unlike his sister and father, Cassian was very quiet — almost shy. It seemed like no matter how gentle the approach, he would always find a way to shrink back in on himself whenever he was given the opportunity. It was almost impossible to get through to him and a small part of you feared you never would.

Cassian gives a small, barely noticeable nod in answer to your question, wordlessly accepting the next spoonful you fed him. The dark circles around his eyes indicated that he seemed to have slept just as little as his father — if not less.

"Did your dad take care of you these past two days?" You wonder when stirring the soup around in the bowl.

"Mhm," He hums, eyes still on his teddy as he caresses its head softly. "He's not very good at it though." Fiddling with the teddy bear's paw, his brows draw together in a frown. "I wish mommy was here, she knew how to make me not sick."

The spoon in your hand clatters against the side of the bowl, the sound deafening in the quiet bedroom. You freeze, eyes flickering up to glance at Cassian where he sits. He had never brought up his mother before — not since your first day where he'd mentioned her briefly.

Swallowing down the flood of curios questions that waited on your tongue, you regard him with silent intrigue and sympathy as Cassian chews on the inside of his cheek. You knew better than to prod at the subject, especially since the abscense of his mother clearly seemed to bother him.

Your hand is gentle as it brushes against his arm. His skin is feverishly hot under your touch, the heat seeping through his thin pajama shirt. "I'm sure your daddy is doing his best."

The frown on Cassian's face only deepens, his grip on the plushie tightening. "It's not enough," He mutters, his voice cracking on the last syllable. There's a thick silence that follows his statement and you hold your breath as you wait for him to continue, or break into tears. His next words are so quiet that you barely catch them:

"It's not the same…"

He doesn't say anything else after that. And you don't push him to. Instead you feed him another spoonful of soup, trying to get his mind on anything other than his parents. Whatever had happened between his mom and dad, it must have been pretty serious for him to open up about it like this.

"How about we read a story before your nap, would that be nice?" You hum as you set the now empty bowl aside. Cassian gives a tiny nod, hugging his teddy to his chest as he settles back against the pillow.

"Uh-huh," He says, pointing in the direction of the bookshelf, "I have a pirate one over there."

The front door clicks open a little after noon. You could hear it from where you were still perched on the edge of Cassian's bed. He'd fallen asleep about an hour ago and you had stayed to keep him tucked in and occasionally check his temperature. But he slept soundly with no signs of waking anytime soon.

Listening to the sounds of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs, you wait with quiet anticipation for their approach. A moment later the bedroom door creaks open and you turn just in time to see Jungkook's tall frame appear in the doorway. He's still in his work attire, the usual button up neatly made and his hair in place. Though the exhaustion on his face didn't pass you unnoticed.

Folding his arms across his chest, he leans against the doorframe. "How is he?" He asks, his voice low and raspy as he nods toward Cassian.

You follow his gaze, one of your hands reaching out to caress his forehead the same way Jungkook had earlier that morning. "Tired," Sighing softly, your gaze lingers on his tiny figure under the covers, "But he'll be okay."

Turning back to him, you withdraw your hand again, letting them both rest in your lap. Jungkook gives a nod, jaw tensing slightly as his gaze wanders between you and his son. It was impossible to tell what was on his mind and it frustrated you.

Just as you were about to ask what he was doing home at such an unusual hour, Jungkook stifles a cough against a clenched fist. His face twists into a grimace when another fit of coughs attack him, seemingly out of nowhere.

Worried, you immediately rise from the bed as you approach him, stopping halfway when you realized what you were doing. "Are you okay?" You ask, fingers twitching at your sides as you fought the urge to reach out. The answer was written all over him, of course, his neck was beginning to flush in that same color as Cassian's face had.

But Jungkook merely shakes his head, brushing your concern off like it was nothing. "I'm alright," He mutters gruffly, dark eyes meeting your conflicted ones.

"I don't know, you sound sick." Taking another step forward, you push the subject as your gaze roams his figure. Exhaustion was seeping through every part of him, in a way he was unable to hide, and you weren't late to pick up on it.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you don't immediately drop the matter. "Tch, don't fret." Nodding in the direction of Cassian, "Just make sure he stays asleep. I'll be in my room." Without another word he turns on his heel, walking out of the bedroom and leaving you behind, standing awkwardly in with your hands limp by your sides.

Leaving him alone wasn't an option of course. Five minutes later you find yourself in the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinet in search of medicine. It didn't take you long to find the labeled package, for everything inside were neatly organized on the shelves — just like the rest of the house.

Having already taken a quick trip to the kitchen, you'd acquired a glass of water to help wash the pills down. Popping two into your palm before placing the package back in its designated spot, you turn to head down the hall.

Jungkook occupied what you assumed to be one of the guest bedrooms just across the locked door you had attempted to break through on your first day. It was firmly shut, a clear sign for anyone and everyone to keep out. Still, you approach, feet moving soundlessly across the floor.

You pause just short of stepping inside, hesitating as you weigh your options. In the end you decide that it was worth a shot and the worst thing he could do was fire you on the spot for daring to show an ounce of compassion. Fingers curling into a fist, you give the wood a soft knock.

Silence follows after that and you're forced to awkwardly linger in the hall for a painful minute. When no reply comes you thought he might be asleep, nearly aborting your mission before another fit of coughs could be heard on the other side.

"Screw it," You whisper before twisting the handle and opening the door.

You don't know what you had expected his room to look like, but you shouldn't have been surprised to find that it resembled the rest of the house. Only this room was sparsely decorated, with nothing but a large bed in the middle and a single dresser opposite it.

Jungkook was sprawled on top of the covers, but he looked different. Gone was the put together man you had always seen, replaced with someone much more… human. He'd shed himself off his work clothes, now dressed in a thick hoodie like he was trying to block out the cold, paired with gray sweats.

He had one arm flung over his face, jaw tense and his lips pressed into a firm line. He didn't look up at the sound of your arrival, only sighing quietly under his breath. "Yes?" The acknowledgement was begrudging, it was clear that if he had it his way, he'd be left alone with no disturbances.

But you weren't one to back down. Taking a step in his direction, and then another, you don't stop until you reach the edge of his bed. "I brought you medicine," You hum, still clutching the glass and the painkillers in each hand as you wait for him to finally look at you.

The breath he exhales is nothing short of annoyed. Letting his arm fall from his face, Jungkook peers up at you through dark lashes. His eyes narrow when they land on the water you had brought, then over to the pills in your open palm. "I'm fine," He grunts, rolling over on his side as he turns his back to you.

The floorboards creak under your weight when you move closer. "Now isn't the time to act righteous. How are you going to take care of the kids if your head is killing you?" You knew that you were probably pushing further than you should, but leaving him to suffer his fate wasn't an option.

Jungkook scoffs, making no attempt to turn back around as he bites out, "Isn't that what I pay you to do?"

"So that's your excuse to not take care of yourself?" You huff, unable to hide the frustration in your voice as you grip the glass a little tighter.

A moment later you hear him exhale a sharp breath before he finally steals a glance at you over his shoulder. His expression is conflicted, clearly torn between throwing you out and accepting your help. Then he reluctantly pushes himself up onto his elbows, though not before sending you a look cold enough to freeze over hell. "Fine, give it here."

He practically snatches the glass of water from your hand, popping both pills into his mouth before swallowing them down in one big gulp. When he's finished he sets the glass aside on the otherwise empty bedside table, head crashing back against the pillow with a strained sigh.

Your gaze flickers across his face, noting the subtle flush that painted his cheeks, the ragged inhales he took as both his nose and throat protested. He looked downright horrible to put it lightly.

Without thinking you reach out, placing the back of your hand on his forehead. Jungkook's brows furrow at the gentle touch, but he doesn't object as he lets you check his temperature. "You're burning up," You murmur, fingers absentmindedly moving to brush a stray strand of hair from his face.

Jungkook scoffs, "I'll be alright. I just need to rest for a little bit." He looks strangely defeated as he stares blankly at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tight when he swallows with a grimace. Rubbing a tired hand across his face, he exhales a sharp breath. "Just go check on Cassian or something," He grunts, clearly eager to get you out of his vicinity sooner rather than later.

You were torn between wanting to stay and make sure he was actually alright and wanting to give him the space he desperately seemed to crave. After a few moments of silence you finally give in with a small nod, "Alright. Call for me if you need something."

He doesn't offer a verbal response to that, only a quiet grunt as his arm returned to cover his eyes. If he didn't want your help then you couldn't force it onto him. So you turn and head out of the room once more, leaving the glass behind in case he got thirsty before closing the door behind you.

It was safe to say that Jungkook was highly unenthusiastic when you came knocking half an hour later. And even less so when he laid eyes on the bowl of soup you were carrying — having reheated the one you made for Cassian earlier that day.

Not even bothering to acknowledge you further than a displeased huff, Jungkook shuts his eyes as he exhales through his parted lips. The evidence of his struggle lay scattered on the bedside table in the form of crumpled tissues, the empty package having fallen to the floor. It was an unusual mess that you didn't associate his clean freak antics with.

"You need to eat something," Your voice is soft when you approach him. Pausing for a second before taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Jungkook had tucked himself under the covers, and you could see the slight shiver that he tried hard to suppress.

He gives a weak attempt at shaking his head, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. "The soup will do your sore throat good," You press, resisting the urge to reach out and check his temperature a second time.

Jungkook makes a low noise of disagreement, somewhere between a strained groan and a failed cough. But when he realized that you weren't budging, he finally cracked an eye open. His dark gaze is fixed on you as he watches you with a scrutinizing glare that reminded you far too much of Rayne.

"Alright," He scoffs, pushing himself into a sitting position as he leans back against the headboard with a sigh. Despite the evident exhaustion on him, his shoulders were still stiff with that familiar tension that never seemed to leave him. He eyes the bowl in your hands, like he was daring you to force the soup down his throat.

You stir the spoon quietly, avoiding his intense gaze when you clear your throat. But Jungkook beats you to it. "Give it here," One large hand reaching out, he takes the bowl from you with something that resembled a scowl. "You've patronized me enough."

With that he begins to eat in small reluctant spoonfuls, where each swallow looked like it pained him greatly. He doesn't comment on the food this time, forcing it down simply because he had to. Neither of you speak, and the silence that falls over you might be the thickest one yet.

Your fingers busy themselves with picking at a loose thread on your shirt, your gaze looking anywhere but at him. You did not mention Cassian's words earlier that morning — his quiet plea for his mother's return nor his disappointment in his own father. Part of you suspected that Jungkook was well aware of it already.

When he was about halfway done with the soup, his movements slowed. The grip he held on the spoon loosened just a fraction and the frown on his face eased up. "You need to rest," You say, hands itching to reach out before you managed to get them under control again.

Jungkook huffs, taking another unsteady bite as he shakes his head. His attention flickers over to the small watch around your wrist. "What time is it?" He grunts, nodding in said direction.

Glancing down to where he was looking, you hum, "Almost two."

There's a small sigh that follows your words as Jungkook stares down at the soup in front of him. His free hand runs through his now mussed hair, "I need to pick up Rayne from school." He moves to place the bowl down on the bedside table, but you stop him halfway.

"What you need to do is finish your meal," You prompt when pushing the food back in his direction. Jungkook's jaw clenches as his dark eyes fixate on you. For a long moment he doesn't say anything, letting only the slight rasp of his shaky breaths fill the silence.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you think of a way to solve the situation at hand. "What times does she get out?" You ask, glancing toward the watch around your wrist once more.

"Two-thirty," He grunts, reluctantly bringing the spoon to his lips.

You nod, "Okay. So I'll go pick her up."

Jungkook nearly chokes on his soup, his eyes snapping over to yours as the frown on his face returns in an instant. "What?" He says, disbelief etched onto his every feature.

But you only shrug, shifting slightly where you sit on the edge of the mattress. "I could pick her up, you're in no condition to leave this bed." He looked like he wanted to protest at that, but something seemed to make him think better of it as he slumped back against the headboard.

After a few moment's of silent contemplation he finally spoke up, his voice low and gravelly. "You got your license?" He wonders, arching a brow when you nod. You could see the gears turning in his head, the crease between his brows deepening as he gripped the spoon tightly.

"Fine," He finally mutters, "Latham Row 37, the keys are on the dresser in the hallway."

Cars and you weren't exactly friends. They had this annoying habit of doing the opposite of what you asked, whether that be giving out at red lights or going empty on gas at the most inconvenient of times. And Jungkook's flashy piece of metal was no different. It had a variety of buttons you had never before seen, pressing one of them had made the car beep loud enough to alert the entire street.

Though after a bit of bickering, the two of you seemed to find a middle ground that allowed you to safely pull out of the driveway. You had to admit that despite owning your license for over two years, your driving experience was… somewhat lacking. After running two yellow lights and avoiding the curb by a hair when turning, it was safe to say that you were covered in sweat when you finally arrived at the kids' school.

The building was nothing short of what you would expect, all things considered. A massive and imposing gate stands before you, behind it the school — which was made out of red brick. Neatly trimmed bushes ran around the perimeter, and outside a hoard of children waited for their parents, all chatting among each other.

It wasn't difficult to spot Rayne. Standing off to the side by herself, she clutches her school bag tightly in her arms, her gaze fixed on the pavement where her shoes kick at a few loose rocks. Part of you thought her friends might have already been picked up, you were ten minutes late after taking a wrong turn, though the more reasonable side of you argued that she'd been standing alone all along.

Pulling up next to her, you fingers fumble for the button that would roll down the window. Amazing, you thought to yourself as you pressed the tiny black thing, far more luxurious than the lever you'd had to wind on in your grandpas old truck.

"Rayne!" You call out, leaning over to wave at her through the open window. She glances up at the sound of your voice, a small frown on her face as she looks left and right before hesitantly approaching.

"What are you doing here?" She asks when the car door closes behind her, placing her bag on the floor between her legs before reaching for the seatbelt. The uncharacteristic confusion in her voice was evident, especially when she leaned back to study you with dark and intense eyes.

Shrugging, your fingers drum against the steering wheel. "Can't I come pick you up?" You ask, stealing a glance in the rear view mirror before pulling out on the street.

Rayne huffs, fiddling with the fabric of her pants. "You're driving father's car," She states, throwing a pointed look toward the dashboard.

"Yeah," You hum, pursing your lips thoughtfully, "Your dad couldn't come get you today." Giving her a a small smile, "So here I am."

Between her and her brother, Rayne definitely posed more of a challenge for you. She was ridiculously smart, a lot smarter than any seven year old should be. Her answers always felt calculated and it was clear that she saw you as nothing but a temporary nanny her dad had hired.

By picking her up today, you thought you'd get some much needed quality time together. "How was school?" You wonder without taking your eyes off the road.

Rayne only sighs, like the matter wasn't of any importance. "It was fine." She doesn't allude to anything else, and when you stop at a red light, you glance over to find her staring out the window with a blank expression on her face.

"Just fine? Did you play with any friends?"

She scoffs, "School is for studying, not playing."

You frown at that, making a left turn as you navigate back to the house without trouble this time around. "No? I remember playing all the time." Sharing snacks at lunch, competing for marbles out in the yard and or building tree houses out of whatever material you found laying around — school had always been a place for fun in your books.

But Rayne only shakes her head, "Figures." You didn't know if that had been an insult or not, though you decided not to pry further. By the looks of it, Rayne had about as many friends as Jungkook had compliments — which were far and few in between. That fact saddened you greatly as you kept driving in silence.

When arriving back home, Rayne went straight to the library to study, despite four pm being an hour away still. She had said she needed to practice for her test the upcoming day. When you had offered to help her she had politely declined, shutting the door behind her with a firm click.

You had been left to tend to Cassian, who was still very much miserable where he laid in his bed. Though his fever seemed to have gone down somewhat, and you were relieved to find that he could eat dinner without problem.

There hadn't been as much as a sound from Jungkook's room, you guessed he was sleeping the illness off. Despite earlier complaints he must have succumbed to his symptoms in the end.

In the meantime you cooked, cleaned up after yourself, prepared Rayne's bag for school the very next day and made sure she got in bed at an appropriate time. The house was spotless and silent by 7:30 and you wiped the sweat from your brow as you paused to admire your hard work.

The sound of the tap running is the only thing to fill the quiet air as you prepare a glass of water. It wasn't until now, when everything had finally settled down that you realized you had been here the entire day.

From stepping through the unlocked front door early that morning, to tending to both Cassian and Jungkook, picking Rayne up from school and then running the rest of the house on top of that. There hadn't been as much as a second to spare for yourself. Even now, you were getting ready to check on Jungkook one last time before leaving.

The stairs are gracefully silent when you climb them, an unusual phenomenon. Each door on the upstairs were firmly shut but your feet already knew where to go.

You don't bother knocking as you step inside. The bedroom is dark, save for the small light on the bedside table. Jungkook's large and imposing figure is still sprawled on the bed where you had last left him. His arm had fallen from his eyes, and you could clearly make out the harsh contours of his face.

Even in sleep he looked troubled, and when you set the glass of water down, you have to hold yourself back from reaching for him and smoothing out the crease between his brows. Instead you busy yourself with cleaning up the tissues scattered on top of the small table and picking up the discarded package from the floor.

The bowl of soup from earlier that afternoon sits next to the lamp, empty. The corner of your lips tugs into a faint smile. Despite his many protests he had in fact finished the entire meal — it shouldn't please you as much as it did.

You pause when your gaze catches on something that hadn't been there before, or perhaps it had and you had simply missed it. Putting the used tissues aside in the empty bowl, your fingers carefully reach out before brushing against the smooth leather. Hesitating for only a second, you pick up the wallet belonging to Jungkook.

It's light between your fingers, and yet it weighs like stone in your open palm. Trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, your thumb prods at the sharp corner. Was it really okay to be prying like this when the man who paid you lay asleep not even two feet away? It went against everything you should do — and yet your hands move before your mind can catch up, opening the wallet to peer inside.

The sight that greets you is almost alien. Something you never thought you'd see, much less be possible. It's a single picture, bright and much too happy to resemble anything of the family you had so briefly gotten to know.

Jungkook sits in an armchair, he looks younger — or maybe it was the wide smile that stretched across his lips that deceived you. He was smiling so intensely that dimples dented into his cheeks, Jungkook had dimples, who would have thought?

On his lap sits a tiny girl, she too, is grinning from ear to ear. The picture had to be at least a couple of years old but you could still recognize the fiery glint in Rayne's eyes. She hugs her dad tightly, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as Jungkook's hand rests on her hip.

In his other arm he holds a baby, a little life so tiny and pure. Cassian, you think, your own lip twitching as you peer down at the photo. Jungkook held him so carefully, his son's tiny head fitting perfectly in his palm.

The picture was everything they weren't — not today at least. It felt like family, like home. But your face falls when you spot the hand resting on Jungkook's shoulder. It's a woman's hand, a shiny ring on her finger, bright enough to catch even on the photograph.

But where her hand leads you can't tell. Your finger brushes over the jagged edge of the photo, where someone had torn it. Out of anger? Sadness? Maybe even regret? It remained a mystery.

You force your eyes away from the picture, glancing back at Jungkook's sleeping form on the bed. For a long moment you just stand there, silently watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. You try to imagine him as the man in the photo — imagine what he might have been like back then. When he was peacefully resting like this, it wasn't too hard.

Setting the wallet down where you had found it, you take another step toward the bed. Jungkook doesn't stir when you pull the blanket a little higher over him, tucking him in as best as you could without taking the risk of waking him and facing those dark and intimidating eyes.

Then you turn your back on him, deciding that you had lingered long enough as you grabbed the empty bowl and the used tissues. The door slides shut soundlessly behind you, leaving the house to bask in silence once more.

Before leaving you check on Cassian one final time. Ever since his earlier words about his mother that morning, you had been in constant worry for him. Of course, there was nothing you could do to soothe the seeming ache in his heart, but staying just a moment longer — felt like a good place to start.

His room is pitch black when you tiptoe inside. You expect to find him fast asleep but to your surprise, a tiny, familiar voice greets you through the shadows. "You're still here?" Cassian's whispers, there's an underlying tension to the quiet question, one so stark that you could feel it seep through your own bones.

"I am," You say when you sink to your knees beside the edge of his bed.

"Oh," he sighs, but he sounds almost relieved.

Your heart practically stops when you feel his tiny hand brush against yours. His fingers move slow and hesitant, like he was half expecting you to pull away at any moment's notice. When you don't, he takes your hand in his — the size difference making the action somewhat awkward but he seems to have no intention of letting go.

"Could you stay?" The question is so quiet that you barely hear it, but the way his fingers tremble against yours tells you everything you need to know. After a moment's of hesitation he adds, "…Just until I fall asleep."

You smile, even though he couldn't see it through the darkness. "Of course, I'll stay," Giving his hand a small squeeze, you shift to get comfortable on the floor. Your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in slow, soothing motions, in a way that was most unfamiliar for you but Cassian seemed to relax as he let out a shaky breath.

It wasn't much, not by far — but it was enough to light a small flicker of hope somewhere deep inside your chest. So you stay rooted to the spot, even as your knees begin to ache and your back starts to hurt, you stay.

You don't know when you dozed off. But somewhere between Cassian's sleepy breaths and your fingers brushing over his hand, your eyes had began to feel heavy.

Now you were laying with your head on the mattress, Cassian's hand still in yours and feeling more than a little disoriented. Your entire body is in pain, your legs numb and your shoulders stiff from the awkward position in which you had been crouched in. Pushing yourself up with a tired groan, you glance toward the clock on his bedside table. 9:15 pm. You had been out for well over an hour.

Cassian was fast asleep in his bed, his fingers limp against your own from where he'd been clinging onto you so tightly earlier. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you prepare to stand up when you suddenly realize that there was something thick and heavy draped over your back.

Frowning, you reach a hand up to brush over the soft fabric of the blanket that covered you. That's odd, you couldn't remember grabbing it on your way in. Bringing it to your nose, you inhale the familiar scent of Jungkook's cologne, your heart stuttering in your chest as realization dawned on you.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself like it could protect you from the thoughts running through your mind. Then without glancing back, you turn to walk back out into the hallway.

The house is just as eerily silent as it had been all day, and when your gaze drifts over toward Jungkook's bedroom, you find that the door is closed. You can't fight back the smile that tugs across your lips as your fingers curl around the fabric — your footsteps are quiet when you make your way back down the stairs, a strangely warm feeling blooming in your chest.

merakoo

Chapter 4 this weekend <3

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