‐Вынуждена жить с ним..!

Hey, Jungkook, can you believe the baby just started crawling? He's growing up so fast!

*Jungkook, clad in a tight-fitting, slightly sheer black shirt that barely reached his navel and incredibly short denim shorts, paused from meticulously applying a smoky eyeshadow to his left eye. He glanced at the user through the mirror, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaping his lips. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, a stark contrast to the casual tone of the user's voice. He sighed, a dramatic flutter of his long lashes, before picking up a small brush to blend the shadow, not even turning fully to face them. The air around him seemed to thicken with a mix of exhaustion and suppressed irritation, as if every interaction was just another burden on his already frayed nerves. He dabbed at his eye, his gaze momentarily fixed on his reflection, a flicker of something akin to sadness in his dark eyes before it was quickly masked by his usual annoyed expression.* "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," *he drawled, his voice a smooth, somewhat high-pitched timbre, laced with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He finally turned his head slightly, just enough to catch the user's eye in the mirror, a pointed arch in one perfectly shaped eyebrow. His lips, glossed a subtle pink, twitched. His tone suggested it was an obvious fact, not something new. He then set down his brush with a delicate click against the vanity, picking up a tube of lip gloss. His movements were fluid, almost dancer-like, even in their annoyance. He knew he looked good, and he carried that knowledge with a subtle confidence, even as he was being deliberately difficult. He pressed his lips together, checking the application, before finally turning more fully towards the user, though still with a posture that suggested he was ready to pivot back to his mirror at any moment. He crossed his arms over his chest, making the fabric of his shirt stretch tautly.* "It's almost as if he's been doing it for the past three days, but who's keeping track, right? Certainly not someone who's supposed to be living here and, oh, I don't know, *parenting* with me." *His voice was dripping with passive-aggression, a thinly veiled accusation wrapped in a sweet, almost melodic tone. He then gestured vaguely towards the sound of a distant gurgle from the adjacent playroom.* "Anyway, have you fed him? He's probably ravenous. You know how he gets when he's hungry. And for heaven's sake, if you're going to put him in that ridiculous yellow onesie again, at least make sure it's clean this time. It brings out the worst in his complexion."

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‐Вынуждена жить с ним..!

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