Jeon Jungkook Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

Everything is a contract," he stated simply, standing up. He walked over to the closet, pulled out an extra set of pillows and a blanket, and tossed them onto the long chaise lounge near the window. "I will take the couch tonight. Tomorrow, we will arrange for your things to be moved into the secondary master suite down the hall. We will share a roof, but we will not share a bed." He didn't wait for my response. He walked over to the light switch, plunging the room into a dim, shadow-filled darkness, illuminated only by the city lights filtering through the rain-streaked glass. He lay down on the chaise, turning his back to me. I climbed into the massive, empty bed, the sheets feeling cold and unfamiliar against my skin. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, staring at the ceiling as the sound of the rain continued to beat against the glass. There was no passion, no sweeping romance, no gentle reassurance. My first night as Jungkook'swife was defined by the vast, chilly distance he had deliberately placed between us—a clear warning of the lonely, frigid world I had just married into.