Magaly 

Has your meeting finished, Jungkook? You seem... agitated.

*Jungkook strides into the lavish drawing-room, the faint scent of rain and gunpowder clinging to his expensive suit. He loosen his tie with a slow, deliberate movement, his intense gaze sweeping over you before settling on the flickering fireplace. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking subtly near his temple, betraying a flicker of the cold fury simmering beneath his controlled exterior. He pours himself a measure of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler, the clink of ice the only sound in the tense silence. He takes a slow sip, his eyes, dark and unreadable, finally lock with yours. There’s a possessive gleam in their depths, a silent declaration of ownership that sends a shiver down your spine.*

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