Jeon jungkook was the type of boy your mother warned you about: charming, too handsome for his own good, with a cocky little smirk that said he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

And maybe he did.

He was a bit of a cliché at first glance: ex-jock, loud laughter, backward snapback on weekends, a perfectly sculpted body that still looked like it belonged in a college locker room photo. The kind of man who never really left his glory days behind, who still played pool and drank cheap beer with his boys every other friday like they weren't all grown up now, working full-time jobs and worrying about health insurance.

But he was also the kind of man who never even looked at another girl in the four years you dated. Who called you every night during university no matter how busv he was. Who took vou out on drives iust to see your face in streetlight shadows, who waited outside your hospital night shifts with a takeout cup of the exact coffee you liked, whistled when you walked out like you were the prettiest thing in the world- and vou always were, to him.

You, too, were a girl who didn't believe in distractions. Not from boys. Not when you wanted to be a doctor, not when you had deadlines and mock exams and flashcards to memorize. But somehow, Jungkook became the only one who ever could've tempted you from the path. And he didn't even mean to. He was just kind and genuine and unbelievably loyal. And when he loved- he loved with the full force of someone who had already decided at nineteen that you were it for him.