✔️ Unconditionally [Book 2] | Jeon Jungkook

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This chapter has a soundtrack

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A deep and sleepy groan finished the job in waking Hyun-Ji from her tentative sleep. The arm that encircled her waist tightened and the curve of her neck was nuzzled in weariness.

Through the baby monitor, the cries of their five-month-old awakened them once again.

"How many times is this?" Hyun-Ji asked in a raspy voice.

"Mm... four, I think," Jungkook sniffed.

Her cries weren't at full capacity, more like the whines of a child that didn't want sleep when it was time for all little ones to be dreaming.

Hyun-Ji put her arm over his and snuggled into his chest, her mind at war with itself. "Do we go to her again? Or is that teaching her that crying gets her whatever she wants?"

Jungkook didn't answer with words. He groaned again and buried his face into her hair, bringing his knees up and curling both of their bodies into a ball.

"Sleepy..." he murmured.

Hyori's cry started out small but soon began to crescendo, snatching the comforting embrace of sleep from his grasp. He sighed and released Hyun-Ji from his hold, rubbing puffy eyes with a lazy hand. Their daughter had quickly made it clear that letting her cry it out was not an option this time.

"Who's getting up?" He mumbled.

Hyun-Ji held out both a fisted and an open hand. They both tapped the side of their fists to their palms, and Hyun-Ji threw out scissors to beat Jungkook's paper. She then rolled over and drew the blanket up to her ear, muttering an apology as she drifted off.

"Ok, Angel. I'm coming," he said while putting on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

He closed the bedroom door behind him and padded through the hallway to the symphony of Hyori's crying and his mother's snoring. His father must be applying for sainthood because he never complained about either one.

In the dim light of her nightlight, he could see her eyes, large as an owl's, with fat tears spilling over her mochi-like cheeks.

She had rolled over onto her tummy and pushed up onto her arms, trying her best to see who was coming through the slats of the crib's frame. Her cries quieted to softer whines when she saw her father approaching.

"Come here," he said softly, lifting her from her bed and kissing her temple. "What's going on with you tonight?"

Sad whines were his answer. He pulled a tissue from the box on the dresser and wiped her tears and runny nose. She wasn't wet, and she had recently nursed, so she wasn't hungry. Perhaps she was just lonely. He gave her a pacifier and kissed her more to help chase the loneliness away.

Tiny hands gripped the cotton of his shirt and her head rested on his shoulder as he rocked her gently side to side, smoothing down her downy hair and rubbing her back. Every now and again he would peek down at her to find her eyes closing a little more each time until she faded back into sleep.