The hallway stretched ahead of him, dim and narrow, lit only by the weak glow of the living room lamp spilling through the doorway. He'd been pacing for the better part of an hour—back and forth, back and forth, like a caged animal trying to wear a path into the hardwood.

His phone screen flickered. 1:47 AM.

No new notifications.

Then—finally—the sound he'd been straining to hear for hours: the click of the front door unlocking.

It swung open, bringing a gust of cool, damp air. And there she was.

Y/n stood in the doorway, silhouette framed by the dim hall light, shoulders slightly hunched, hair plastered to her forehead. Her jacket was dark with rainwater, clinging to her like a second skin.

Jungkook's feet carried him forward before his brain caught up.