Chapter 2: The Cold House, the Warm Bed

The Kim estate was an enormous, sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Seoul. Its opulence was overwhelming, with towering marble pillars, intricate chandeliers, and polished floors that gleamed like glass. Every inch of the house spoke of wealth, power, and the hidden dangers lurking beneath the surface.

Jungkook had never felt more out of place.

As soon as the ceremony had ended, Taehyung had given him a quick, indifferent nod and disappeared. Jungkook had been escorted to a guest room—an extravagant suite with plush furniture and delicate, expensive curtains. Yet, as he stood in the center of the room, looking around at the lavish surroundings, he felt an odd sense of emptiness. The room was beautiful, but it felt like a cage. It wasn’t a home, and it certainly wasn’t his.

The silence of the mansion felt suffocating.

He sat on the bed, looking at the elegant white gown he’d been given to wear, the delicate lace brushing against his skin. His fingers curled around the fabric, his chest tightening as he tried to come to terms with everything. His family had arranged this marriage for him, a deal that no one had bothered to explain fully. He had been thrust into this world of power and luxury without any warning or preparation.

For a moment, he felt like the invisible child again. The one no one saw. The one who had been hidden away from the world. Now, he was expected to play a role, to fit into a world that had never accepted him. His heart ached, and he wondered if this would ever feel real—if he would ever truly belong in Taehyung’s world.

The sound of footsteps outside the door brought him back to the present. It was a soft knock, followed by a voice.

"Jungkook? Dinner is ready."

Jungkook hesitated before responding, his voice soft and unsure. "I’ll be there in a minute."

It wasn’t a command—just a simple statement. But the tone in the voice behind the door made his heart skip. It was Taehyung’s voice. Low, steady, and detached.

He stood up, smoothing the wrinkles out of his gown, and made his way to the dining room. As he walked through the hallways, he couldn’t help but feel like a stranger in a foreign land. The walls seemed to close in around him, and every step echoed through the quiet mansion.

When he entered the dining room, he found Taehyung already seated at the head of the table. His posture was rigid, his gaze focused on the glass of wine in his hand. He didn’t look up when Jungkook entered.

"Sit," Taehyung’s voice was a low command.

Jungkook obeyed, sitting down across from him. The silence between them was thick, a chasm that neither of them was willing to bridge. The staff silently placed dishes in front of them, but Jungkook barely noticed the food. He was too preoccupied with the man sitting across from him, the man who was now his husband.

"How are you settling in?" Taehyung asked, his voice devoid of warmth.

Jungkook looked up, meeting Taehyung’s gaze for the first time since the ceremony. There was something in those eyes—something calculating, something cold. He could almost feel the distance between them. It was suffocating.

"I… I’m fine," Jungkook replied quietly, his voice betraying the uncertainty he felt. "It’s just… all so sudden."

Taehyung nodded slowly, taking another sip of his wine. "It’s not unusual for a marriage like this to be sudden. You’ll get used to it."

Jungkook’s hands clenched on the table, the fine china cold beneath his fingers. He wanted to ask more questions. He wanted to know what this marriage meant for him, for them. But he was afraid. Afraid of the answer. Afraid of what Taehyung might say.

Instead, he focused on his meal, pushing the food around on his plate, too nervous to eat. The silence between them felt heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to break it. He wasn’t sure what to say, or if Taehyung even wanted him to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, Taehyung finally stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You should rest," he said, his voice still cold. "We’ll speak more tomorrow."

Jungkook looked up, his heart racing in his chest. "Tomorrow?" He didn’t mean to sound desperate, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.

Taehyung glanced at him, his eyes sharp. "You’re not alone here, Jungkook. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going anywhere."

The words, though calm, felt like a warning. A reminder of the distance between them. He wasn’t here to care about him. He was here because of duty. Because of the agreement made long before Jungkook had ever been born.

"Right," Jungkook whispered, lowering his head.

The next few days passed in a blur of awkward dinners and cold silences. Jungkook tried his best to adapt to the strange new world he found himself in. Taehyung was always there, always present, but never really there for him. Jungkook would catch glimpses of him in passing, his cold demeanor never shifting, his expression always unreadable.

It was during one of these moments that Jungkook found himself standing in the hallway late at night, unable to sleep. The storm outside had left the house feeling eerily quiet. He hadn’t seen Taehyung since dinner, and he hadn’t seen him leave the study. So, he did what he never thought he’d do—he knocked on Taehyung’s door.

A moment passed before the door creaked open, revealing Taehyung standing there in a simple black shirt and loose pants. His gaze softened for a fraction of a second when he saw Jungkook standing in the hallway.

"You need something?" Taehyung asked, his voice quiet, almost guarded.

Jungkook swallowed, his hands trembling slightly. "I… I can’t sleep. The storm’s too loud."

Taehyung didn’t say anything at first, his eyes studying Jungkook for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped aside to let Jungkook in.

Jungkook hesitated before entering, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but Taehyung’s presence had a way of making him feel small, like he didn’t belong. Still, he took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.

"Thank you," Jungkook said quietly, unsure of what to do or where to sit.

Taehyung simply nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You can stay if you need to. But I’m not here to hold your hand, Jungkook."

The bluntness of Taehyung’s words stung, but Jungkook didn’t retreat. Instead, he found himself sitting on the opposite side of the room, away from Taehyung but close enough to feel the heat of his presence.

The minutes stretched on. The storm raged outside, but in that room, there was a strange sort of peace—a quiet before the storm that Jungkook couldn’t quite understand.

He wasn’t alone. But he wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

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