Perfect, I love how you're guiding the story clearly — it's going to feel very real and vivid this way!
Here's what I'll do for Chapter 2 of Wh
Chapter 2: Strangers Among Them
The human world smelled different.
The air was lighter, filled with the strange perfumes of flowers, gasoline, and warm food. The sky was a brilliant blue above them, too wide, too endless. Jungkook hated it immediately.
They had walked for what felt like forever, their small feet sore and blistered, their clothes torn and stained from the collapsing portal behind them. Jiho led the way silently, his thin frame determined even though he stumbled now and then. Jungkook followed, his sharp eyes narrowing at every sound, every flutter of wings or whisper of wind.
When they found the orphanage, it was almost by accident.
A small, crumbling building with chipped white paint, a swinging rusted gate, and a faded sign: Willowbrook Home for Children.
Jiho glanced back at Jungkook.
"This could work," he whispered.
Jungkook only shrugged, his mouth a hard line. "It stinks."
Jiho pressed his small hand against the fence, concentrating.
The woman inside — a matronly figure with tired eyes and soft hands — was watering the drooping flowers near the porch. She looked harmless. Trusting.
Jiho took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The power inside him — ancient, older than this bright and foolish world — slid outward, threading into the woman's mind like smoke.
A few murmured words. A gentle push of thoughts.
When she looked up and saw them, her eyes instantly filled with sympathy.
"Oh, you poor dears," she gasped, hurrying to them. "Where are your parents?"
Jiho let the lie drip from his lips, coated in magic. "Plane crash. We have no one left."
The woman gasped again, horror flashing across her face. She bent down, gathering them in soft arms that smelled of soap and flowers.
"You'll be safe here," she promised.
Jungkook stiffened in her embrace, his fists clenching. Safe?
He had been promised safety before. He knew what promises were worth.
The first days were strange.
The other children at Willowbrook were loud, messy, and curious. They whispered about Jungkook and Jiho behind their hands, giggling and staring with wide eyes.
Jungkook hated them all immediately.
He refused to eat at first, wrinkling his nose at the strange, greasy food — mashed potatoes, fried chicken, sweet milk. It was so different from the rich, spiced feasts of his palace. When he finally gave in to Jiho's hard glare and ate, he chewed slowly, suspiciously, as if the food might betray him.
Jiho adapted faster.
He learned to smile, to nod politely when spoken to. He even played ball with the other kids once, though he clearly hated losing.
Nature was another mystery.
The feel of soft earth under bare feet, the smell of rain before a storm, the way trees whispered secrets through their leaves.
One evening, Jungkook sat under a tree, staring up at the stars. They were the same stars from home.
And yet... not.
Jiho dropped beside him with two steaming cups of hot cocoa — a drink the other children had begged him to try. He offered one silently.
Jungkook glared at it. "What is this trash?"
Jiho shrugged. "Sweet. Warm. Humans seem to like it."
Jungkook hesitated — then snatched the cup roughly. He sipped. His mouth twitched — the chocolatey sweetness was a shock — but he said nothing.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Only the crickets sang.
"This world..." Jiho murmured, his voice so soft it almost blew away with the wind, "...it looks like ours."
Jungkook's jaw tightened. His voice, when it came, was full of venom. "Of course it does. Your people lived off scraps before my father saved you. You should be grateful."
Jiho's hands clenched around his cup, but he said nothing.
There was no point fighting now.
They needed each other.
Jiho knew that he'd keep reminding him that they weren't equals but he'd endure it all
Jungkook looked at him and asked mockingly,you wanna cry then JiHo said nothing ,