It'd been a week. Jungkook had physically recovered from the loss, but not mentally. He put on a brave face but Y/n and Yoongi could see right through.
"I'm worried about him Yoongi."
"I understand Y/n, but what are we to do? He'll talk if he wants, you can't force a mob boss to do anything he doesn't want to do."
"He needs therapy or something."
Yoongi let out a deep chuckle. "Ha, Jeon Jungkook in therapy, I'd pay to see that."
"It isn't a joke Yoongi. The man watched his own father die, and at his hands. "
"Jungkook has been exposed to death as a child, he's a big boy, can handle himself."
"Yeah, but you don't see his impassive stare that creeps upon his face every night. This is all my fault, I just want to help."
"So that's what this is about sweetheart, your guilt."
"God Yoongi, do you really think that low of me?" She shreiks.
Just then the door swung open revealing a tired looking Jungkook, his tie undone his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"Y/n. Come with me." He states snaking his arm around her small waist. "Where are we going?" She asks placing her hands around his torso. "To bed." He responds quickly, whisking her out of the room.