Months later, wind chimes tinkled softly above the tiny balcony. Tae leaned against the sun-warmed railing, overlooking a chaotic sea-green harbor far below. A lone fishing boat bobbed gently against the docks. Her hair, longer now, whipped softly around her face.

The city Tae remembered was long gone—replaced by salty air, coral-painted houses clinging to cliffsides, and the distant cry of seagulls. This cramped little apartment smelled faintly of garlic simmering on the stove and Jungkook’s clean laundry detergent. She closed her eyes, breathing deep. Peace. Actual peace. It felt fragile, like blown glass, but it was hers.

Inside, Jungkook’s laptop clicked softly as he reviewed accounts—his final MBA project submitted, graduation looming. Tae stirred the bubbling pot of seafood stew—rich red broth thick with shrimp, squid, and clams. Steam dampened her cheeks. She hummed quietly, a tune she didn’t know the name of. Just… contentment.

The ghost of Mr. Jeon’s mocking laugh sometimes echoed in nightmares, but the frantic dread? That belonged to another lifetime. This quiet rhythm—cooking, cleaning, waiting for Kookie’s heavy tread in the hallway—was her anchor.

—

The front door lock clicked. Tae turned, spoon still in hand. Jungkook stood silhouetted against the bright Mediterranean afternoon. His university bag hit the floor with a soft thud. His eyes scanned the room—lingering on the gleaming countertops, the neatly folded laundry pile on the worn sofa, finally landing on Tae in her simple cotton dress and apron.

A slow smile spread across his face, softening the intense focus he’d worn all day. He strode across the small space, not stopping until he stood right before her. One hand slid possessively around her waist beneath the apron, pulling her close. The other lifted to gently trace the fading scar on her lower lip—a permanent reminder.

His gaze was dark, searching hers. “You Okay?” he murmured, voice low. Tae leaned into his touch, warmth spreading through her chest. “Yeah,” she breathed back. His thumb brushed her cheekbone—a silent inspection. Always checking. Always claiming.

The simmering stew filled the pause, its rich fragrance wrapping around them. Jungkook dipped his head, his lips brushing hers—soft, firm, deliberate. “Smells amazing,” he whispered against her mouth. Tae melted into him. His. Only his. Always. She felt the familiar possessive pressure of his hand slide lower, resting firmly on her hipbone—a silent promise, a boundary. No straying. Ever.

His cock stirred faintly against her belly through his jeans. Tae tilted her head back, offering her throat. His lips found her pulse point—a soft, lingering kiss that promised more… later. Alone. Just them. The harbor breeze swept in, carrying salt and freedom. Tae smiled.