The apartment was packed—bodies pressed together on the worn leather couch, someone’s legs draped over the armrest, a couple arguing over a game of beer pong in the corner.

You’d squeezed onto the end of the couch, drink warming in your hand, watching the chaos unfold.

Jungkook ducked under the doorframe, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his dark hair pushed back from his forehead. His sleeve tattoo peeked out from beneath the rolled-up cuff of his black hoodie.

He was laughing at something someone had said, head tilted back, the piercings in his ear catching the low light.

Nella followed a step behind him, hand looped through the belt loop of his jeans, smiling that perfect, effortless smile.