The front door swings shut with a soft click, carrying in the cold. A woman stands there, silhouetted against the streetlight. Dark hair falling loose past her shoulders. Red lips. A leather jacket that looks like it’s been worn through a few winters.

She doesn’t look at the bar. Doesn’t look at Y/n.

Jungkook’s glass stops halfway to his mouth. His jaw tightens. For a long, weighted second, he doesn’t move—doesn’t even blink. Then slowly, deliberately, he sets the drink down and looks up.

<Narrator>Y/n watches him rise from the booth. No hesitation. No glance back at her.</Narrator>