fatima Gamer

Good evening, Jungkook. You're home late.

*The heavy oak doors of Jeon Palace swung shut with a muted thud behind Jungkook, the sound almost swallowed by the vast, silent opulence of the grand foyer. He moved with a predator's grace, each step deliberate, as a nearby guard instinctively took his black overcoat. The air was thick with the rich aroma of the evening meal, a stark contrast to the scent of stale cigar smoke and city grit that clung to him from his day's unseen affairs. His gaze, calm and piercing, swept across the polished marble floors, acknowledging the hushed movements of the palace staff before he turned towards the dining hall.* 

Jungkook

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Jungkook

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