The Jeju villa basked in soft morning light, golden stripes sneaking through the gauzy curtains on their second day in Jeju. Jungkook stirred, stretching lazily in bed, only to find the spot beside him empty. He grinned.
"Unbelievable..." he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he rolled out of bed and padded toward the kitchen.
Ivory was hunched over the counter, clutching a glass of warm water like it was holy.
"There she is," he teased, voice still raspy from sleep. "Miss 'You're not sleeping alone tonight, Jake'—and what did you do? Knocked out like a grandma by 10:02."
Ivory cracked one eye open and gave him a half-hearted glare. "If you don't want me to vomit in that pretty mouth of yours, I suggest you lower your volume."
Jungkook blinked. "Whoa. Intense. Are you hungover?"
She shook her head, resting it against the cool marble. "Yes. Migraine. Cramps. I think I'm suffering acid reflux."
"Oh..." He blinked. "I—I didn't know you were... I mean, are you okay? Do you need anything?"
"Yeah," she groaned. "Grocery run?"
The store was quaint and sunlit. Jake made a beeline for the snack section, completely unaware as Ivory slipped into the feminine care aisle with her usual grimace. She had realized the symptoms, the same symptoms she had suffered ever since she got the first one. She groaned.
Out of all the days, the red tide picked a date where she's surrounded with the ocean free to swim the beaches.
Her eyes scanned the shelves. That's when the evil idea hit her.
She grinned, quickly adjusted her expression to pure horror, then waited.
Right on cue, Jake turned the corner with a basket full of chips and banana milk.
He froze when he saw her face.
"...Ivory?" His brows pulled together, already beside her, hand already at her shoulder. "What happened?"
She looked up at him, eyes wide. "I'm... late."
Jake looked at Ivory, and then the shelves she's looking at. His doe eyes wide. He stilled--one, two, three minutes. Just looking at the rows and rows of pads and then at Ivory who's biting back a smile. Her facade almost cracking.
His brain short-circuited. "Wait. Like... late late?"
She nodded slowly. "Two weeks."
Jake went pale. He blinked once. Thought of the date they did it in Iceland. The went to his phone to check. Then again. "Okay. Right. Okay. Are you feeling okay? What do you want to eat? You're not lifting anything—Give me those. No more wine, obviously. Also—wait. How soon can we get married? Will your parents hate me? My mom will cry, I already know—should we name the baby something Icelandic? Or go with J-names to match mine? Like... Juno. Or Jiro. Or—"
"Jake!" Ivory burst out laughing, doubling over with cramps and laughter. "Oh my god. Slow down—it's a prank!"
Jake froze mid-name suggestion. "Wait. What?!"
She could barely breathe. "I'm literally cramping right now. Do you think I'd be this calm if I actually thought I was pregnant?"
Jake stared at her for a full beat. Then let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, hand dramatically over his chest.
"You're evil," he whispered.
"I'm hilarious," she corrected.
But when she saw the way he looked at her—still a little dazed, still clearly mentally planning wedding venues in Iceland, and not his hometown—her heart melted.
"You... really would've married me? In Iceland and not here?"
"In a heartbeat," he said softly. "I mean—I want to anyway in the future. But yeah. That fast? No hesitation."
Ivory blinked. "Well now I feel like the jerk."
"Good," Jake smirked. "You should. Now come on, I'm still buying you every flavor of heating pad and three tubs of ice cream. Also, you're not carrying anything. I mean it."
Ivory grinned as he took the basket from her hands.
And in that tiny Jeju grocery store aisle, beneath fluorescent lights and beside boxes of chocolate tampons, she realized just how loved she really was.
***
The Jeep rumbles softly through winding roads framed by trees. Morning light filters in as Ivory, in a royal blue sundress, sits in the passenger seat, her hair tied in a loose ponytail, sunglasses perched on her nose. The color deepened the glow of her skin and made her eyes look like the ocean Jake always wanted to dive into.
Jake sneaks a glance.
"What?" she asks, smiling. "You're staring,"
He grins, eyes still on the road.
"You're pretty."
She laughs looking at him in white North Face shirt and khaki cargo pants, playfully nudging his arm.
"You're not bad yourself, North Face boy."
They park at the entrance of Bijarim Forest, the air thick with fresh pine and birdsong. JungKook grabs her hand without thinking, fingers locking easily.
As they walk along the moss-lined paths, she slows her pace, taking deeper breaths.
"This reminds me of him," she says softly.
JungKook looks at her, waiting.
"My grandfather. He used to take me on forest walks in Iceland. He loved nature. Always said, 'The trees know peace, and we're lucky when they share it with us.'"
JungKook says nothing at first. Just gives her hand a light squeeze.
"He sounds like he raised you well," he murmurs.
She nods.
"He never spoiled me. Even though I was the heiress, you know? He always said—'You earn your life. You don't buy it.'"
There's a quiet moment between them, as cicadas hum in the background.
JungKook breaks it gently.
"I think he'd like me."
Ivory chuckles.
"He'd probably test you first. Make you climb something or build a fire."
He laughs, lifting their hands.
"For you? I'd build him a whole damn cabin."
They pause by a bench surrounded by old cedar trees, sunlight scattering like gold dust through the branches.
She sits. He takes a photo of her—unposed, soft and glowing in that light.
"You're storing that in your little 'Ivory folder,' huh?" she teases.
He doesn't even deny it.
"Of course I am."
After a beat, Jake looks at her again as she looked around. Her dress flowing with her steps, wishing time would still for a second.
Ivory turned to him abruptly, her lovely face in a grimace. He chuckled, already knows what is on her mind.
"Let's go down now, I have a reservation 30 minutes away from here for Spicy braised chickens."
Ivory's face lit up and bounced-run towards Jake, hugging his biceps.
"You know me like at the back of your hand."
"If you keep getting cute with me like this, my stomach won't be able to handle all the butterflies you're giving."
Ivory rolled her eyes, but her blush betrayed her. "Sweet talker."
"For you? Always."
By lunch, they arrived at a tucked-away local restaurant known only to the few who dared explore beyond tourist guides. A stout ahjumma waved them in and seated them by the open window. The air was thick with the spicy aroma of simmering kimchi and braised chicken.
Jungkook took a bite and immediately teared up.
"This is pain and pleasure at the same time," he gasped.
Ivory laughed, pushing a glass of water toward him. "Weak."
They shared bites, traded sauces, and dared each other into extra chili paste challenges until both were a mess of tears and laughter.
By sunset, JungKook had rented a scooter. He handed her a helmet and winked. "Ready for a ride?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist as they zoomed past coastline views, quaint villages, and hidden cliffs kissed by crashing waves. The sky was a canvas of soft oranges and purples, and every turn felt like a scene from a movie—one starring just the two of them.
That night, back in the villa, they curled up on the deck with iced coffees in hand. The stars stretched endlessly above them.
"Today was perfect," she murmured.
That night, the air in the villa was cool from the sea breeze sneaking in through the open balcony doors. Ivory was curled into Jake's side on the couch, heat pack resting on her stomach, a pint of vanilla-chocolate swirl that they had bought in her hand. Her head was tucked beneath his chin, both of them lazily watching Netflix with the volume just low enough that their breathing felt louder than the dialogue.
Jake had barely said a word in the past thirty minutes, and that was not him. Even when watching, he would spout nonsense to the TV and argue with it like a teenager.
Ivory's spoon paused mid-scoop. "You're quiet."
He blinked. "Hm?"
"Are you... still thinking about the prank?"
He didn't answer immediately, and that told her everything.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I really didn't mean to scare you like that. I swear I won't pull something like that again."
Jake let out a soft chuckle. "It's not that. Well, okay, it is, but not in the way you think."
She turned to look at him.
"It just made me think about the future," he admitted, eyes still on the screen but far away. "And how... I meant every single word I said. I'd do all that. For you. With you. I'd move to Iceland. I'd help at the vineyards. I'd wake up early and feed chickens or whatever it is rich heiresses do out there."
Ivory's heart clenched. "Jake..."
He finally looked at her. "I can't imagine my life without you. Like really can't. Even the thought of a little Jeon running barefoot around grapevines didn't scare me. You scolding me that I mismatched the whites and colors of the laundry. It felt right."
She didn't say anything for a long moment. Her throat thickened with emotion, ice cream long forgotten.
"I can't imagine it either," she said softly. "But we have to talk about the real stuff too."
He nodded, gaze serious.
"I need to go to Italy next month. It's the fiscal audit and harvest inspection for the wine company. My wine company is just a branch out of the main company that my parents are handling. My parents want me hands-on this year. I'll be there for at least a month, maybe more..."
Jake stayed silent.
"And your enlistment," she said gently. "It's coming soon, right?"
He swallowed hard. "Yeah. Probably by the end of the year."
"I want to visit you. When you're there. Wherever you get assigned. If I'm allowed."
He hesitated, his brows knitting slightly—worry? guilt?
"You'll be busy," he said quietly. "Italy. Work. I don't want you flying across the world for dusty barracks and five-minute visits."
"I don't care," she said immediately. "If it means seeing you—if it means reminding you that someone's waiting—I'll be there. Even if it's just for those five minutes."
He looked like he was about to argue again, but instead, he sighed. Smiled.
"Okay," he whispered. "Yeah. You can come. And I'll update you whenever I can. Breaks, letters, everything."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She leaned forward, brushing her lips softly against his. "Then it's a deal."
They curled deeper into the couch, Netflix still playing, the ice cream melting on the table, and a soft, unspoken hope lingering between them—that no matter what came next, they'd keep choosing each other. Always.
The soft hum of the TV was still playing in the background—some horror series neither of them were really watching. Ivory had nestled deeper into Jake's side, her head resting on his chest now, the heat pack wedged perfectly between them. Her fingers lazily traced invisible shapes on his shirt while he absentmindedly ran his hand up and down her arm.
Jake tilted his head to glance down at her. "You know," he started, voice laced with faux seriousness, "your period totally ruined what could've been a very scandalous night."
Ivory let out a groggy laugh. "Oh? You poor, deprived man."
"I was emotionally prepared," he sighed dramatically, "physically ready, spiritually aligned—and then boom. Uterine betrayal."
She smacked his chest lightly, laughing harder. "Uterine betrayal?!!"
"Yes," he said, nodding solemnly. "I even sang Seven. The explicit version. I danced. You made promises."
She grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I did, didn't I? I got scared with you singing passionately 'I'll be fucking you, right. Seven days a week,' babe. I mean."
She even sang the song.
Jake gave a tragic sigh. "And instead of you moaning my name like a K-drama heroine in slow motion, I got moody groans and hot water packs."
Ivory's giggle turned into a wheeze as she threw a throw pillow at his face. "You're such a drama queen!"
He pulled the pillow away, eyes crinkling from how hard he was smiling. "Well, you did tease me with that yellow bikini. And now I'm spooning a grumpy heiress hopped up on pain meds and eating ice cream meant for my post-coital recovery snack."
Ivory burst into full-on laughter, curled up and shaking. "Post-coital recovery snack?!!"
Jake shrugged. "A man can dream."
Still chuckling, she leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll make it up to you when I'm not bleeding and feeling like someone's twisting my ovaries like a Rubik's Cube."
He chuckled too, brushing her hair off her forehead. "Deal. But next time you prank me about babies, I reserve the right to emotionally blackmail you with guilt for at least a week."
"You already do that every time I eat your snacks." Ivory pouts.
"...Fair."
They stayed tangled like that, the air filled with warmth and sarcasm and the quiet beating of two hearts that knew—periods, pranks, pillow talk and all—this was their person.