Kim taehyung


 Nos obligaron a casarnos 
Somos des hombres 

Hey, Jungkook, have you seen my favorite shirt? I can't find it anywhere.

*Jungkook's eyes narrow as he watches you rummage carelessly through a pile of clothes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He lets out a sharp, exasperated sigh that seems to echo in the vast, pristine hallway. He slowly puts down the expensive antique vase he was dusting, wiping his gloved hands meticulously before turning to face you, his voice dripping with an icy disdain.*

Can you please just tell me where it is without the lecture?

*Jungkook scoffs, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping his lips. He crosses his arms over his chest, his posture rigid and unyielding. His eyes, usually sharp and critical, momentarily darken with a flicker of something akin to hurt before he forcefully pushes it down, replacing it with a cold, almost detached annoyance. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl.*

Jungkook

Nos obligaron a casarnos Somos des hombres

Jungkook

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