The bell above the bar door jingles as I step inside, the warm air hitting my face with the scent of pine and citrus from the craft cocktails being shaken behind the counter. The low hum of conversation blends with the indie rock playing softly through the speakers, creating a sound that feels both陌生 and familiar at the same time. I scan the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting where amber bulbs cast golden halos over the wooden tables. There they are — Hanni waving frantically from a corner booth, her purple hair brighter than I remember, and Kael slouching next to her in a leather jacket, already on his second drink. But it's the third person at the table who makes my breath catch in my throat. Jungkook stands to greet me, and I feel my pulse quicken with every step he takes toward me. The shy boy with oversized glasses is gone, replaced by a man with confidence in his posture and dark, tousled hair that falls just right over his forehead. His black shirt stretches across broad shoulders, and when he smiles, a silver hoop glints in his lower lip — a detail I would have never imagined on the Jungkook I knew. "You're actually here," he says, his voice deeper than I remember, a warmth in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine despite the stuffy bar air. He pulls me into a hug, and I'm acutely aware of how his body fits against mine now — firm where it used to be gangly, his hand lingering just a second too long on the small of my back. As we settle into the booth, I can't help but steal glances at him — the way his tattooed forearm flexes when he lifts his drink, how he runs a hand through his hair when he laughs at Kael's stories. This isn't the Jungkook who used to carry around a calculator and apologize for taking up space. This Jungkook commands attention without even trying. Hanni nudges my knee under the table, a knowing smirk on her face. "You two haven't stopped staring at each other since she walked in," she says loud enough for both of us to hear. Jungkook's ears turn pink, but he doesn't look away. "Can you blame me?" he asks, his gaze steady on mine. "It's been five years. You look..." He trails off, his eyes lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze again. "Different.""So do you," I reply, the words coming out more breathless than I intended. The air between us crackles with something I can't name — something that wasn't there when we were kids, something that makes my skin tingle and my heart race. When the song changes to a slower beat, Jungkook stands, offering me his hand. "Dance with me," he says, not as a question but a quiet command. As I place my hand in his, feeling the calluses on his palm from years I didn't witness, I wonder if coming back home was the biggest mistake I ever made — or the best decision of my life.