That weekend, everything was planned down to the last detail.

At breakfast, Jungkook kissed Hana on the cheek, suitcase in hand.

“I’ll be gone two nights,” he said casually. “Overseas meeting. Don’t wait up.”

Hana barely looked up from her phone.

“Mm. Okay, don’t forget to FaceTime me.”

Later that morning, Taehyung announced brightly,

“Hana, I’m going to meet some of my old school friends. We’re having a small reunion, and they booked a hotel for two nights.”

Hana smiled distractedly while adjusting her lipstick in the mirror.

“Have fun, Mom. Send me pictures.”

And just like that, the trap was set.

The lake house was far from the city—silent, secluded, surrounded by pine trees that whispered in the cool night breeze. The house itself was modern, glass walls facing the calm lake that shimmered under the moonlight.

Taehyung arrived first, her heart hammering as she set down her small overnight bag. She wore a soft cream dress, modest yet clinging to her curves in all the wrong ways. She had never felt so nervous, or so guilty.

When Jungkook’s car pulled up, her breath caught. He stepped out in a black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, eyes dark and burning when they met hers.

For a moment, neither spoke. Then he smiled—soft, grateful, aching—and she felt her knees weaken.

Inside, she busied herself in the kitchen. Cooking had always soothed her nerves. She laid out pasta, garlic bread, and wine, trying not to think of what lay ahead. Jungkook sat at the counter, watching her with an intensity that made her blush under his gaze.

They ate slowly, the clink of forks loud in the silence. Every brush of their hands as they passed plates sent sparks skittering up her spine.

At one point, she spilled a drop of wine on her dress. Jungkook leaned forward with a napkin, his fingers brushing her thigh as he dabbed at the fabric. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flaming.

“I’ll… I’ll clean it later,” she stammered, pulling back.

His lips curved into a half-smile, eyes never leaving hers.

After dinner, Jungkook stood and started stacking the plates.

“Go on,” he said gently, his voice low. “I’ll handle the cleanup. You… go get ready.”

Taehyung froze, her pulse leaping.

“G-get ready?”

He stepped closer, his hand grazing her arm.

“For bed.” His voice dropped, thick with need. “For us.”

Her lips parted, breath shaky. For a moment, she wanted to say no—to run upstairs, lock the door, and pretend this night had never happened. But instead, she found herself nodding, her voice barely above a whisper.

“O-okay.”

She turned and walked toward the bedroom, her legs trembling, her heart beating so fast it hurt.

Behind her, Jungkook watched her retreating figure, his chest tightening with anticipation. Tonight, everything he had wanted—everything he had dreamed—was finally within reach.