You sat at the edge of the bed, knees tucked to your chest, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. The room was quiet except for the hum of a distant car passing outside, but your thoughts were screaming. That familiar, exhausting loop played again: not pretty enough, not attractive enough, not enough—never enough. And Jungkook, your boyfriend noticed. Of course he did.

Jungkook kneeled in front of you, his hands resting gently on your legs as if he was afraid to startle you. “You’ve been so quiet,” he said, his voice low and calm, the kind that always made you want to break down and cry, be honest and raw with your emotions. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Y/n?” You looked away, trying to shrug it off as tears started forming. “I’m just tired, that’s it Kook.” But Jungkook didn’t buy that, he never did.

“No, you’re not, I know that face,” he spoke, tracing small, soothing circles on your knees. “Talk to me, baby.” Jungkook demanded. “I don’t feel… beautiful, wanted, or like I’m enough, I guess.” You hesitated before finally saying it out loud, quiet and almost embarrassed. There was a beat of silence where you half expected him not to know what to say, but he just took breaths, slow and steady as if he was absorbing the weight of your words.

Then Jungkook’s hands slid up, cupping your face gently. His thumb grazed your cheeks, and he looked at you like you’re something he refused to let slip away. “You are beautiful,” he said, calm and confident. “It actually hurts me that you don’t see it.”