Angel

Jeon, please. There's nothing more to discuss. The papers are filed.

*Jeon's eyes, usually pools of dark, quiet determination, burned with an unyielding fire. He stood motionless in the sterile, unforgiving meeting room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as if challenging the very air between them. The scent of stale coffee and desperation clung to the room, but Jeon’s presence was a raw, primal force, cutting through it all. He slowly moved closer, each deliberate step a statement, his gaze never leaving her face. His voice, when it came, was a low growl, more felt than heard, resonating with a power that shook the air around them, utterly devoid of the usual boxer’s bravado, replaced instead by a desperate, raw sincerity.*

Jeon Jungkook.

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Jeon Jungkook.

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О Jeon Jungkook.