Jungkook

It’s the day that I’ve been dreading. Or at least I thought.

I’m supposed to be anxious, but I’m not. You see, I’m meeting Rosé’s family in less than twenty hours, but that doesn’t seem to bother me. If anyone, it’s my fiancée that’s fidgeting like an electrocuted chick in the water.

“Are you sure you got your passport and ticket ready? Did you bring earplugs or headphones at least? How about a pillow? It’ll be a long flight your neck's going to hurt so bad if you don't have a cushion to support it. Oh! How about the Korean delicacies for my family—”

“They’re all in the trunk of the car already Rosé. You just packed my headphones and neck pillow in my backpack five minutes ago, and both my passport and ticket are with you. Did you forget?”

“Oh really?” she asks with her brows in a deep knit, scavenging for the items in her handbag. When she does find them, she blows a raspberry, “You’re right it’s with me. Of course, it’s with me. I was just making sure you know, because I don’t want any unwanted sudden surprises. I don’t have very good memories with airports, you see.”

Ouch. That was such a blow. She’ll never let me forget that day.

“Okay,” she drops to the couch across me, “let’s practice instead then.”

Rosé takes out a small handy notebook from her bag and flips it hastily. When she finds the page she’s looking for, she begins her mission, “What’s my sister’s name?”

“Alice.” Oh God we’re doing this again. We already spent the whole day yesterday studying about her and her family I almost questioned my feelings. Just kidding, of course.

But Rosé isn’t as she tenaciously asks, “And where did I study?”

“Uhm,” I scratch my head as I try to remember. She told me about it last night, but damn English is still difficult. I hesitantly answer, “Canterbury Girls College?”

“It’s Secondary College, not just College,” she corrects me with a cold glare. “Before Australia, what country did we stay in?”

“New Zealand!” I unknowingly shout as I got this question right for the first time in first try.

“Okay! Then at what age did I—”

“Rosé,” I deeply sigh. I can’t hear more of this. This is just too much. Her family will approve of me not because I have memorized their background information, but because they’ll see how much I love their youngest. That should be enough.

Her wriggling stops. Her chin rises and her eyes finally unglue itself from the questionnaire, “You don’t have to train me like I’m some contestant in a major beauty pageant. Everything is going to be fine,” I tell her.

Rosé just stares at me in wonder for a while before she finally utters a few words, “How are you so calm?”

To be honest, I don’t know too. The first time Rosé brought up visiting her family in Australia almost made me pee in my pants. I was that nervous. My mind was filled with questions then. Will they like me? What do they know about me? What did Rosé tell them about me, or did she not say anything about me? Are they scary? Do they know Rosé and I are living together, and if yes…am I getting minus points for that?

I continuously told Rosé that I wasn’t ready to meet them. I was horrified, you know. What if they hate me and persuade Rosé to cancel the wedding and to break up with me? I don’t think I can handle life without Rosé in it.

It worked for a while. But on the fifth month after our engagement, I guess Rosé got fed up with my cowardice as she yelled at me, “If not now, when? At the very day of our wedding?!” I wanted to say yes, but I wanted to hear her say “I do” more so I booked the tickets instead.

It’s not like I have never interacted with them. I did, once, when I asked Rosé’s hand for marriage…through Facebook chat. I know, that was so lame of me but hey, it’s still an interaction right?

“I mean, yes they’re totally sweet and the most hospitable in town, but they’re still my family. Are you really not nervous at all?”

Before I could even think if I really wasn’t, my brain stops functioning as Rosé abruptly dashes towards me. Without wasting time, she places her hands on my shoulders and leans one side of her face to my chest. “Oh, but your heart is really beating so fast!”

I flick her by the forehead and she pouts it’s so cute I swear one day it’ll be the death of me. “You’re being unfair, that’s obviously because you suddenly went near me.”

“Really?” Rosé’s arms snake around my waist as she looks up and our eyes meet fondly. She puffs her cheeks and makes a cute expression, “After all these time I still make your heart race?”

Ah, I really want to bite her cheeks it’s so adorable, just like a pair of the softest white steamed buns. But I resist it and opt for a kiss on it instead. “My heart will always flutter with just the thought of you. Never forget that,” I stare at her eyes deeply as I nuzzle against her nose.

She nuzzles back with even more twinkle in her eyes, “I love you Kookie.”

“I love you too Rosie.”

We’ve been travelling on air for eight hours already but we’re still far away from Melbourne. In fact, I’m feeling so sick of sleeping and lying down that I start to sit up and stretch.

While doing so, I see an angel at my left sleeping so peacefully and beautifully I can’t believe she’s mine. Ha, I really should thank her parents for giving birth to a goddess, so pure and innocent yet sassy and y—but that I don’t need to tell them especially to her dad.

As if she senses my eyes that have been stuck to her form yet again—for the nth time—she slowly stirs and wakes up from her sleep. With a slight raspy voice, she grumbles, “Baegopayo…”

I chuckle at her random aegyo. Seriously, how can she be this endearing? The first thing she does as soon as she wakes up is to look for food. Sometimes I’m not even sure how such huge servings of food fit her slender body.

“They’re serving lunch now,” I inform her as I caress her face.

She then slowly rises too and loosens up her stiffened muscles from the long uncomfortable slumber. She then checks her watch, “Five more hours,” she declares.

5 more hours.

Just 5 more hours.

FIIIIIIVVVEEEEE HOURS.

And suddenly, my heart beats like crazy and my vision goes hazy. Like what? I was totally okay a while ago. Why is this suddenly happening? Why am I suddenly panicking that I am actually on my way to Australia, to her home, to her family?

.

ing , this is it. I’m really meeting her family, soon. God. It’s finally sinking in now; it ing did. . . ing . I’m about to meet the family of my fiancée! Will they like me? Will they still let me marry their daughter once they meet me? !

“Hey, you okay?” Rosé cups my face that’s now profusely drenched by sweat, “Jungkook you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-no, it’s nothing. Nothing.” Yes, it’s nothing. Don’t get too overworked about it Jungkook. Everything will be fine; they’ll love you or at least learn to because their daughter loves you too.

Yes, that’s all that matters Rosé. Rosé loves me and I love her so much too. Everything will work out just fine…

no it isn’t. . , , !

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Melbourne Airport. The temperature outside is 14 degree centigrade. Thank you for flying with Korean Airlines and we hope to see you again soon. Have a pleasant stay in Melbourne.”

It wasn’t until I felt fingers pinch my s that I woke up from my petrified state. I didn’t even notice that I was no longer wearing my seatbelt. “Jungkook, stand up already and get our things from the cupboard!”

“What?” I unthinkingly ask, still dazed on what’s happening.

“What do you mean what?” my fiancée asks in frustration before stating the obvious, “We’re here!”

“Here?”

“Melbourne! Australia! My home,” she responds with a confused expression on her face that soon turns into full worry. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you having a jet lag or something? You’ve been off since a while ago I’m really starting to worry.”

“No—no, I’m not. I’m not sick. I’m just…I’m just—” I shake my head and massage my temple for a bit before releasing a sigh. I put my head down and bite my lower lip harshly, “I think I’m just nervous.” 

Silence.

With my head still tucked, I wonder why she isn’t saying anything like comforting me or scolding me whatever, just something. I sneak a glance at her then and I see her contorted face. 

When our eyes meet, she loses it and finally bursts out laughing. “What’s funny?” I ask.

“You!” and she laughs even more hysterically that I had to hold her by her waist or she would have toppled down.

“Sweating bucks over meeting your family is funny? It’s not Rosé. It’s totally not funny—stop laughing!” I chide her for her continuous mocking.

“It is! Admit that it is.” She slowly breathes in then to calm her over-elated self. “Just this morning you were being so cocky that you weren’t feeling any anxiety over this and now—” her chuckles begin to deafen the empty plane once again, “now you’re even whiter than Yoongi!”

And right there, the idea of leaving her and flying back to Korea really tempts me.

We probably still wouldn’t be in transit now if it wasn’t for the stewardess that sort of almost dragged us out as we were delaying their process already; all passengers except for us have left and the plane was just waiting for us so it can get ready for its next flight already.

It takes us almost an hour when we reach Rosé’s home.

Ju