STRIP YOU BARE || JJK FF || MATURE (18+)

CHAP 11 : DARK HOURS

Jungkook's mind was clouded the entire time in his meetings. Going back home his heart beat in excitement that he would get to meet her soon again.

He parked into his massive parking lot and made his way up to the french door. Suzanne answered the door. She was a very old house keeper and one of the most trusted between their current staff as well. Although she was in her early forties, she didn't look a single day over thirty. Her curly hair fell over her body softly and her tanned skin gave a good complexion under the lights.

When she answered the door, her flushed hair looked all dismantled and he silently prayed it was just from working and nothing else. It was his father who hired her , and Jungkook had always observed a certain chemistry between his father and her, though he might have mistaken them and they would have nothing more than a boss and employee's relationship.

She smiled, smoothening loose strands of her hair into the bun. "Welcome home."

Jungkook stepped out of his shoes, knowing how his father was too particular about some things. And him spending most of his life in London definitely gave him a hard time following his peculiarity.

As Jungkook carefully lined up his boots by the door, he saw Suzanne watching him.

He winked at her.

She blushed and smiled shyly. "Would
you like something to drink?"

"Not at the moment. Thanks." He
glanced toward the double staircase
that wound up to the second level
before branching off into two separate wings. "So what's Dad up to? Trying to solve the mysteries of the universe?"

"You know your father better than anyone else." Mr Jeon had materialised as silently as a ninja. His chest was bare above the low-slung waist of black drawstring pants.

Jungkook gave him a lopsided grin. " I hate it when you sneak up on me like that."

His father's eyes glinted. "I was just about to meditate. Why don't you join me?"

"Ah, no, that's okay. I'll just-"

Mr Jeon had already turned and walked off, leaving Jungkook no choice but to follow.

The twelve-thousand-square-foot house had ten bedrooms and eight bathrooms. The place was humongous, and some of the hallways felt like a maze as they turned in on themselves, making it easy to get lost if you didn't know where the hell you were going.

Even though it was his own house he would sometimes get utterly confused to get to the other rooms.

They passed the garden and koi pond to reach the Japanese teahouse. The wooden structure was totally authentic with a low-slung overhanging roof, shoji sliding paper screens and tatami mats covering the floor inside. His father frequently hosted tea ceremonies for the Japanese businessmen and diplomats he entertained. The teahouse was also where he came to meditate.

When he slipped inside, Jungkook hesitated at the threshold. He always felt like he should bow before entering the muted space.

Jungkook awkwardly at the entrance of the door like a dirty sinner when he saw his father taking charge to soundlessly lighting the candles and incense. On his left bicep was a sword tattoo depicting what kind of a rebel he was during his young days. Jungkook definitely got the genes of being a hot head and a defiant by his father.

His father was a fitness freak, an ultimate motivator and idol for Jungkook. At an age of fifty, he didn't seem any less than an active athlete with his robust and ripped body and tattoos that described bravery and valour. He could easily give a tough competition to Jungkook when it came to martial arts. His calm and graceful demeanour had a plus hand.