Lost and Gained
Something was wrong.
I knew it the moment I opened my eyes.
The air felt off—not just the usual morning chill, but sharper, colder, almost questioning.
The faint whisper of fabric brushing against the wall caught my attention. Curtains were moving, though I didn’t remember opening them. My stomach twisted, a knot tightening in my chest.
My eyes landed on the window.
Open.
Not slightly. Not a careless crack. Fully open.
My heart thudded painfully. I always closed it before bed. Seoul wasn’t forgiving, and I wasn’t careless—not like this.
I sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed, and walked cautiously across the room. The window latched clicked under my trembling fingers. Cold metal. My pulse raced.
“Okay. Maybe I forgot,” I whispered to myself. But deep down, I knew I hadn’t.
I took a breathe and tried to calm down, telling myself that maybe the wind had blown it open.
Maybe it was nothing.
But my eyes scanned the bedroom. My dresser, my closet, the nightstand drawers. Nothing looked out of place at first glance.
Then I noticed my jewelry tray.
It looked... less full.
My fingers hovered over it, hesitant.
I opened the drawer next.
A few things were missing.
Nothing valuable, not that anyone could sell easily.
But personal.
Private.
Intimate.
Things that made my stomach drop just thinking about someone else touching them.
I froze. My chest felt tight. My head started spinning.
Someone hadn’t just broke in. Someone had been here.
I moved quickly now, checking every corner. My bedside drawer. My closet. The small box where I kept my letters I didn’t want anyone to read. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized how exposed I felt.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, trying to steady my breathing. Panic was rising up in me like a storm I couldn’t control.
I needed help.
I grabbed my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. One person came to mind immediately—my brother, Jeon Jungkook. The one person who would never call me dramatic. The one person who would act before panicking, before judging, before anything.
I pressed his name and held the phone to my ear.
Ring...
Ring...
Ring...
“Y/n?” His voice came through instantly, sharp, alert.
“I—I think someone broke into my apartment last night,” I said, words rushing out. “The window... it was open. And some things... things are missing. Not money or anything. Just... personal things. I didn’t lose them, Jungkook. I know I didn’t.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end.
“Are you alone?” he asked immediately.
“Yes.”
“I’m coming over. Now. Lock the door. Don’t touch anything.”
“I didn’t—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he interrupted.
True to his word, Jungkook arrived faster than I expected. The second I opened the door, he scanned the apartment with a precision that made me feel both safe and ridiculous for panicking.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, stepping fully inside.
“No.”
“Anyone still here?”
“I don’t think so.”
His jaw clenched.
He checked every room again, methodically, silently. When he finally stopped, he turned to me and pulled me into a quick, tight hug.
“You’re okay,” he said quietly. “You’re safe.”
I leaned into him, letting the tension in my body unwind slightly.
“This wasn’t random,” he said after a moment, stepping back to look me in the eyes. “I don’t like this.”
“Comforting.” I muttered.
“It’s not meant to be,” he replied. “You can’t stay alone tonight.”
I frowned. “Jungkook—”
“I know someone,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “A professional. Discreet. Someone who’ll stay with you until we figure out what’s going on.”
“A bodyguard?” I said, disbelief sounding my voice.
“Yes,” he said simply. “It’s for your safety. Nothing dramatic.”
“That feels... extreme.”
“You’re shaking,” he said softly. “Let me handle this.”
I let him. I had no other choice.
He made the call.
My mind raced while I waited. Every shadow seemed to flicker. Every sound—a car horn, a dog barking, a floorboard creaking—made my stomach jump. I paced. Jungkook watched me like a hawk, arms crossed, one brow arched.
“You know you’re lucky I didn’t ground you for life,” he said, smirking lightly.
“Jungkook!” I groaned, spinning around. “Someone could be in my apartment!”
“And that’s exactly why I’m here. And exactly why you’re getting a bodyguard. Calm down.”
I sank onto the couch, hugging my knees. The adrenaline of fear was finally giving way to something else—a noticeable awareness that my life was quietly shifting.
~Thirty minutes later~
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
Three solid knocks at the door pulled me out of my thoughts.
Jungkook straightened. “That’s him.”
I opened the door.
And froze.
A man stood there like he had been born to occupy space with authority. Tall, broad-shouldered, calm, almost confidently composed. His eye scanned the apartment once, assessing, calculating. Then they landed on me.
Jungkook stepped forward, grinning like he’d been waiting for this moment. “Y/n, this is Namjoon. Kim Namjoon. Your new bodyguard.”
I blinked. “Uh... hi?”
Namjoon lifted his head slightly, formal but not cold. “Hello, Y/n. I’ll be staying with you tonight.”
I wanted to say something clever, something witty, something that would make me sound calm and collected.
But instead... I just nodded. My chest felt tight.
“You’re safe,” he added.
And somehow, I believed him.
Jungkook put his hand on my shoulder. “Do not flirt with him,” he muttered. Then he leaned closer. “Try not to fall for him. That’s on me if it happens.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop stealing glances at Namjoon. There was something about him—composed, calm, a presence that made the apartment feel... different. Not mine alone, but somehow safer.
Namjoon watched the space quietly, but his gaze met mine, it softened just slightly. That slight shift, so subtle, was enough to make my pulse do something I wasn’t prepared for.
And just like that, my life had quietly—but irreversibly—changed.
