"You guys are liars; I don't believe you. I will die here than go to prison," he said, taking a knife from his pocket and placing it on his neck. But before he could cut himself, Jimin kicked his hand, and the knife fell down. Jungkook reached and handcuffed him. Min-Ho was screaming his lungs out, begging to be left alone.

~

It's 4 AM, and you all returned to the room after handing Min-ho to the police station with all the proofs and recordings where he confessed to his crimes. All of you were tired from overworking all day. You lay down in your room as soon as you freshened up. Jungkook came inside and saw you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillow.

"Get up; I need to change your bandage," he said in monotone. You didn't move, pretending to sleep.

"I know you are not asleep. Stop your drama and get up," he said, sitting next to you with a first aid box. Knowing you already got caught, you whined, moving right to left and left to right under your blanket until he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up. You sat, folding your legs in crisscross in front of him.

"I don't want to apply that red liquid; it stings," you said with a pout. Jungkook's heart melted right away at that pout, but he was a man of a stone heart. "Tie your hair up," he ordered.

"Can't we skip it for today? Please, I want to rest," you whined again.

Jungkook stood up on his knees and bent towards you. His cold fingers slid onto your nape, collecting all the hairs in his grip. The scent of sweet pine filled your nostrils as your nose was close enough to touch his chest. You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch and smell at the same time. Your inner self was ordering you to dig your nose into his collarbones. You opened your eyes when the smell faded. Your hairs were tied in a ponytail, and he was taking some cotton pads out of the box.

He slowly removed the bandage from your neck and dampened the cotton pad with red medicine. The stitches were completely fine. Jungkook felt relieved seeing your wound healing better. He placed one hand under your nape and another touched the wound with a cotton pad.
‘Ahhhh…' a soft groan escaped your mouth when you felt the burning sensation on your neck. You grabbed his shirt in pain.

He started blowing cold air while cleaning the wound. His breath was soothing your pain while his scent was raising your heartbeat. After cleaning and applying a new bandage on the wound, you couldn't help but wonder, "Why does he care so much? With what relation is he taking care of me this well? Am I allowed to accept this care? Why does it feel so homely around him? If this man breaks me, I won't be able to mend again." Lost in thoughts, you looked at his charming features.

"Take this medicine and sleep. We will start to Seoul when the sun hits head," he said, getting up from your mattress. Both of you lay down to sleep. This is the last night you are spending with him in the same room. You heard his small puffs and realized he is already asleep.

How can this man sleep so peacefully when a grown lady is sleeping next to him? Am I nothing more than a friend and colleague to him? Whenever he is near me, my heart races a thousand miles per hour. Does this happen with him too? Let’s confirm it.

You slowly scooted beside him, making sure he doesn't wake up. Jungkook was sleeping straight, and you were sleeping sideways beside him. You pretended to be in deep sleep and placed your hand on his chest. You observed the rhythms of his heart, which seemed like a melody to you.

There is no change in rhythm. Is he in slumber? Can't he at least feel my touch? You waited a little longer but observed no change. In disappointment, you took your hand back and turned opposite to move back to your original spot.

Before you could leave, a hand grabbed your waist and pulled you back. Your shoulder and back touched his hard torso. Your eyes widened, and breath paused. The hand was stiff around your waist. His small puffs touched your ears, assuring he is still asleep. His warmth worked like a lullaby, and you went to sleep in his embrace.

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