Y/N had always believed that arranged marriages happened to other people.

People in dramatic family dramas.

People whose mothers suddenly announced, “We found someone for you.”

People who smiled politely over tea while secretly texting their best friend, HELP ME.

Not her.

At twenty-four, Y/N had other plans.

She wanted to finish her master's degree, get through the mountain of assignments waiting on her desk, find a decent job, travel somewhere that didn't involve a family wedding, and—most importantly—figure out what she actually wanted from life.

Marriage was somewhere far down that list.

Possibly at the bottom.

So when her mother called her into the living room on a Sunday afternoon and said, “Wear something nice. We're having guests,” Y/N immediately became suspicious.

“Who?”

Her mother avoided her eyes.

“Just some people.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Y/N.”

“Mom.”

Her mother sighed.

“Please don't start.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

That sigh.

That particular sigh was never good.

She looked toward her father, who was sitting on the sofa pretending to be deeply interested in the newspaper.

“Dad?”

He lowered the newspaper by approximately two centimeters.

“Yes?”

“What's happening?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I'm not.”

“You're holding the newspaper upside down.”

He immediately flipped it.

Y/N stared at him.

Her mother covered a laugh with her hand.

“Oh my God.”

“Just go get ready,” her mother said.

“For what?”

“A meeting.”

“What meeting?”

Her mother's expression softened.

“A family meeting.”

Y/N froze.

“No.”

“Y/N—”

“No.”

“Listen first.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We haven't even told you who they are.”

“I don't care.”

Her mother crossed her arms.

“You don't even know what we're going to say.”

“I know enough.”

“Your father and I aren't forcing you.”

Y/N paused.

That changed things.

She looked between them.

“You're not?”

“No,” her father said quietly. “We're only asking you to meet them.”

Y/N frowned.

“Meet them for what?”

Her mother gave her a small smile.

“To see if you like him.”

Silence.

Y/N stared at her.

Then at her father.

Then back at her mother.

“You found someone.”

Her mother nodded.

“For marriage?”

Another nod.

Y/N dropped dramatically onto the sofa.

“This is how my life ends.”

Her father chuckled.

“You're being dramatic.”

“I had plans.”

“You still do.”

“I was going to become successful.”

“You still can.”

“I was going to travel.”

“You still can.”

“I was going to experience romance naturally.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow.

“You're twenty-four, not fourteen.”

“Exactly. I still have time!”

Her mother smiled.

“Just meet him.”

Y/N groaned.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“But I'm not promising anything.”

“Of course.”

“And if he's boring—”

“He isn't.”

Y/N looked at her suspiciously.

“How do you know?”

Her mother hesitated.

“We've heard good things.”

“That sounds suspicious.”

“It isn't.”

Y/N stood.

“Fine. I'll meet him.”

She walked toward her room.

Then stopped.

“One question.”

“Yes?”

“What's his name?”

Her mother exchanged a quick glance with her father.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

The name sounded strangely familiar.

Y/N frowned.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes.”

“Where have I heard that?”

Her mother smiled.

“He teaches at your university.”

Y/N's face went blank.

“No.”

Her father looked up.

“What's wrong?”

“No.”

Her mother frowned.

“What?”

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yes.”

“The professor?”

Her parents exchanged another glance.

Y/N's eyes widened.

“You're talking about Professor Jeon?”

Her mother nodded slowly.

Y/N stared at the ceiling.

Of all the men in the entire city.

Of all the possible people.

Of all the families they could have met.

It had to be him.

Professor Jeon Jungkook.

Twenty-nine.

Youngest professor in their department.

Ridiculously calm.

Ridiculously intimidating.

And, unfortunately, ridiculously handsome.

She had never spoken to him outside class.

She didn't need to.

His presence alone was enough to make half the students sit straighter whenever he walked into the lecture hall.

He wasn't particularly strict.

That was the problem.

He didn't need to be.

One look from him could make an entire classroom fall silent.

Y/N had taken his elective the previous semester.

She remembered his first lecture clearly.

Black shirt.

Rolled-up sleeves.

Watch on his wrist.

A stack of papers under one arm.

He had walked into the classroom five minutes late, looked around at thirty students, and simply said—

“Good morning.”

Half the room forgot to answer.

Y/N had nearly laughed.

He had looked directly at her.

Not for long.

Just a second.

But somehow she remembered it.

And now her mother was telling her that the same man was coming over to discuss marriage.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

By six-thirty, Y/N was sitting on the couch beside her mother, trying not to look like she was mentally preparing an escape route.

She wore a simple pastel kurta.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing that screamed I am here to meet my potential husband.

Her mother, however, had clearly interpreted the assignment differently.

“You look beautiful.”

“I look normal.”

“Exactly.”

Y/N sighed.

The doorbell rang.

Her stomach dropped.

“Already?”

Her mother stood.

“Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You're crushing the cushion.”

Y/N looked down.

Her fingers immediately loosened.

The door opened.

A middle-aged couple entered first.

Then him.

Jungkook.

For a moment, Y/N forgot that she was supposed to breathe.

He wasn't dressed like he was in class.

No formal shirt.

No professor's jacket.

Just a dark sweater, neatly fitted trousers, and a simple watch.

His hair was slightly messier than usual.

Somehow, that made him look younger.

Less intimidating.

More human.

His eyes moved across the room.

Then stopped on her.

Y/N swallowed.

His expression changed almost imperceptibly.

Recognition.

Of course he recognized her.

She had been in his class.

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

Y/N gave him an awkward smile.

“Professor.”

The moment the word left her mouth, her mother closed her eyes.

Jungkook's lips twitched.

“Professor?”

Y/N immediately realized her mistake.

“Sorry.”

He looked amused.

“It's fine.”

His voice was exactly as she remembered.

Calm.

Low.

Controlled.

Except now there was something warmer in it.

Her mother introduced everyone properly.

Jungkook greeted her parents respectfully before sitting across from Y/N.

For the first few minutes, the conversation stayed painfully normal.

Work.

Family.

Education.

Future plans.

Y/N answered politely.

Jungkook did too.

He seemed completely composed.

She hated that.

Why was he so calm?

Didn't he find this strange?

Apparently not.

At one point, their mothers disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two of them with their fathers.

Y/N immediately reached for her glass of water.

Jungkook noticed.

“Nervous?”

She looked at him.

“No.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“You're holding the glass with both hands.”

Y/N looked down.

She was.

She slowly put one hand in her lap.

“I'm not nervous.”

“Okay.”

There was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're smiling.”

“I smile sometimes.”

“You don't smile in class.”

He looked at her for a moment.

“Neither do you.”

Y/N blinked.

“I do.”

“You don't.”

“How would you know?”

“I teach your class.”

“Past tense.”

His lips curved.

“Still.”

She looked away.

This was strange.

Very strange.

He was talking to her differently now.

Not like a student.

Not exactly like someone he was considering marrying either.

Somewhere in between.

Her father suddenly cleared his throat.

“So, perhaps you two should talk privately.”

Y/N nearly choked.

“Privately?”

Her mother appeared from the kitchen.

“Yes. Just for a little while.”

Jungkook stood.

Y/N reluctantly followed.

They walked toward the balcony.

The door closed behind them.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

The evening breeze moved through Y/N's hair.

Jungkook leaned lightly against the railing.

“You don't have to agree to this.”

Y/N looked at him.

“I know.”

“My family isn't expecting an immediate answer.”

“Good.”

He smiled.

“You seem relieved.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because you're my professor.”

“Former professor.”

“Still weird.”

He laughed softly.

It was the first time she'd heard him laugh.

And annoyingly, she liked it.

“You're not exactly what I expected,” he said.

Y/N crossed her arms.

“What did you expect?”

“Someone who talks less.”

Her mouth fell open.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled.

“You talked quite a lot during your presentation.”

“I was explaining my project.”

“You argued with three people.”

“They were wrong.”

“You were very confident.”

“I usually am.”

“I noticed.”

Something about the way he said it made her suddenly aware of the distance between them.

Not too close.

Not too far.

Just enough.

She cleared her throat.

“So... what did you expect from me?”

He thought for a moment.

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“A quiet student.”

She laughed.

“I'm not quiet.”

“I know that now.”

They both smiled.

The tension eased.

For the first time that evening, Y/N felt like she could actually breathe.

Then Jungkook asked,

“Do you really want to get married?”

The question caught her off guard.

She looked toward the city lights.

“I don't know.”

“That's fair.”

“What about you?”

He was quiet.

Then—

“I don't know either.”

She looked at him.

“Then why are you here?”

He met her eyes.

“Because sometimes you meet someone before you know what you're looking for.”

Y/N's heart gave a strange little beat.

She quickly looked away.

“That sounds rehearsed.”

“It wasn't.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Professor Jeon, are you flirting with me?”

The second the words left her mouth, she froze.

Jungkook stared at her.

Then slowly smiled.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Not yet.”

Y/N's eyes widened.

He pushed away from the railing.

“Come on.”

“Where?”

“Before our parents start wondering why we're taking so long.”

She followed him toward the door.

Just before opening it, he glanced back at her.

“And Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Don't call me Professor outside the university.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What should I call you?”

He smiled.

“Jungkook.”

She hesitated.

“Okay... Jungkook.”

Something about saying his first name felt unfamiliar.

Almost forbidden.

He opened the door.

“Better.”

They returned to the living room.

Their parents immediately looked at them.

Y/N's mother smiled.

Jungkook's mother smiled too.

Her father looked between them.

“So?”

Y/N opened her mouth.

Before she could answer, Jungkook spoke.

“We'd like some time to think.”

Y/N looked at him.

He gave her a tiny smile.

Not the teasing smile from the balcony.

Something softer.

Something that made her wonder whether this strange arrangement might not be as terrible as she'd imagined.

She looked down at her hands.

Maybe this wasn't the end of her life.

Maybe—

Just maybe—

It was the beginning of something neither of them had planned.

And somewhere between Professor Jeon and Jungkook, Y/N had a feeling the line between them had already started to blur.