Jungkook wasn’t supposed to live here. At least, that’s what they told people. The apartment was technically Y/n’s—her name on the lease, her furniture, her terrible habit of leaving half-finished mugs of tea everywhere. Jungkook had only meant to crash for a few weeks after his old place flooded last year. A few weeks turned into months and now a year and somehow his shoes multiplied by the door, his hoodie claimed permanent residence on the back of her couch, and the spare room stopped feeling “spare” at all.