It was a biting cold day in New York, the kind that seeped into your bones no matter how hard you tried to stay warm. That’s why you found yourself nestled on the leather couch in your shared penthouse, wrapped tightly in a soft, fluffy blanket. The warmth of the blanket did little to calm the storm brewing inside you, however, as you sat there alone, waiting for Jungkook. He had promised to be home for dinner, swearing he’d have just "one drink" with his friends after work. You hadn’t minded—after all, it was Friday, and he deserved to unwind. But now, hours later, the clock glared 12:04 AM, and there was still no sign of him. He hadn’t called, hadn’t answered your texts, and every failed attempt to reach him only fed your worry. A thousand worst-case scenarios played out in your mind, leaving you sick with concern and frustration.

Just as you furiously typed out yet another message, the sound of the penthouse door swinging open caught your attention. Relief flooded your chest momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by a simmering anger as you heard the telltale signs of drunken mumbling and stumbling. You stormed to the entrance, frustration burning in your veins, only to find him leaning against the wall, struggling to take off his shoes. His lips were pursed in a slight pout, his brow furrowed in drunken concentration. Despite your anger, the sight of him—so childlike in his clumsy state—threatened to melt your resolve.

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy yet warm, as a sheepish grin spread across his face. "Don’t be mad, baby," he slurred, leaning heavily against the wall for balance. "But I think I had more than one drink." Then, as if the world’s funniest joke had just been told, he burst into a carefree, toddler-like laugh, leaving you torn between exasperation and reluctant amusement.