25

Taehyung

When Jungkook brought the first aid kit, I didn't want him to see me like this — broken and in pain — so I ignored him. He saw enough already.

Emotions I never wanted to experience were coursing through my body, triumph over my victorious revenge and self-loathing as I remember my dead mother, micing together and taking its place.

Feelings were a sign of weakness.

And I showed Jungkook my weakness.

Whenever he was near, I couldn't think straight. No matter how hard I tried to be indifferent, he always knew how to break through the walls.

When he played the piano, I saw my mother sitting there.

The pain in my body reminded me of why I was in this position.

Jung-ho.

Whatever death he experienced, it wasn't enough.

He shouldn't have died so easily.

The image of my mother's lifeless, bloodied body flashed behind my closed eyes and the ache in my heart was almost unbearable.

All these years, I kept it in. I locked it inside of me, refusing to feel.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I whispered to myself.

I had lived with one goal. To kill Jung-ho, to end his family and his empire.

My revenge was on him. But the only thing left of him now was his family. By the time I was done, nothing would be left.

Every single Jeon would be wiped off the Earth. His allies. Everything would be mine.

That was my last thought before closing my burning eyes. My restless sleep was haunted by images of a black-haired, brown-eyed angel, laughing and being happy, but it's far from my reach.

No matter how hard I tried to catch up, he always slipped right through my fingers.

Always leaving me feeling empty as he faded away.

At some point, I heard the door open.

As the footsteps grew closer, my body instantly warmed. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that Jungkook stood in front of me. Keeping my eyes closed, I feigned sleep as I waited for his next move. I needed him far away from me. His sweet smell, his melodious voice.

Jungkook came close and I could smell his vanilla shampoo, then he knelt in front of me and I found it hard to keep my eyes closed.

I wanted to see him.

The total contradiction of what I wanted a few seconds ago.

My heart wanted him near while my brain told me to push him far away.

Feeling conflicted, I kept my eyes closed instead and then his hands were holding mine, I resisted the urge to quickly pull, he was so near.

Touching me.

Control.

Keep in control, I admonished myself as Jungkook rubbed his fingers over my bruised knuckles.

And then I felt something wet rubbing over the backs of my fingers.

It stung and I bit down my lips to keep from hissing in pain.

When realization crashed through me, my eyes snapped open. I looked down at Jungkook and saw his bent over my hand as he cleaned my wounds with an antiseptic wipe.

He took his time, slowly and gently cleaning each knuckle, then the rest of my hand, he applied the bandage, then sighed and leaned away.

I couldn't take my eyes off, he was so damn beautiful.

At the thought, my heart stuttered and swallowed hard.

Get a grip on yourself, Taehyung.

And then he looked up, his eyes widened, and his lips fell open in shock.

"Taehyung."

My name was a whisper on his lips.

His cheeks were slightly flushed and it made him even more beautiful.

Moving my gaze away from his face, I looked at my bandaged hand.

"I… saw that you didn't clean your hands," he stuttered. "I thought that maybe I could clean them for you."

Jungkook had no idea what that did to me, he cleaned my wounds. He still cared for me when I was harsh to him.

"It could get infected. That's why I cleaned it," he continued.

When was the last time someone took care of me?

"You should clean your other hand," he said.

He sighed and then started to get up, and before I could think, my hand snaked out and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and tugged until he was kneeling again.

I needed him closer.

I wasn't ready to let him leave yet. Jungkook tipped his head back and stared at me in shock.

I needed a reason to keep him there, so I held out my other hand.

As he worked, the silence brought me comfort.

But what was more comforting was Jungkook sharing the silence with me. His presence brought me comfort even as I tried to deny it.

When Jungkook was done, he didn't let go of my hand immediately, instead gently rubbed his thumb over my bandaged knuckles.

Then he let go and stared at me again, our gazes meeting, both unflinching. Both of us lost in each other.

And then he broke the connection.

My focus was drawn to his black hair, he was a beautiful man.

When I told him how beautiful he was, I knew those were the most honest words I'd spoken in a long time. With his twinkling doe eyes, his lips, his cheeks flushed, and his black hair falling down his ears, he was an image impossible to forget. The look he gave me made my heart race - So fvcking

beautiful.

Jungkook had sunk deep under my skin and I had to get him out as soon as possible.

Only one way to do that.

One fvck and then I would move on.

Jungkook would be no different to me.

I had to make sure of it.

Jungkook

At his words, my heart flipped and my stomach twisted. He called me beautiful. I quickly ducked my head.

He coughed and then cleared his throat, "Thank you for cleaning my wounds."

I nodded and then looked up. "I want to thank you too. For taking care of me the other night."

Nervously playing with the hem of my dress, I continued, "I should have thanked you earlier, but didn't get the chance."

"Is that why you bandaged my hand?" Taehyung asked.

I shook my head quickly and whispered, "No."

"Is it pity then? I don't need your pity, Jungkook," he growled.

"It wasn't pity. I just wanted to help."

And it was true. I didn't pity him, I felt for him instead. I felt his pain and my heart begged me to offer him comfort, So I did what I could.

"Why is it so bad that I bandaged your hand?" I asked.

Taehyung glared down at me and he released a frustrated breath.

"I wanted to help, Taehyung. I wasn't pitying you, and even if you didn't take care of me that night, I would have still cleaned your wounds." He stared at me through hazy eyes and clenched his jaw. I tugged my hair behind my ears and smoothed it. "I can't say that I understand what you are going

through—"

"Don't," he hissed.

"But I know what it feels like to have so much pain that you feel like you're going to die." I needed him to understand, to see that I was broken too. "So, maybe a little, I do understand your pain. Because I felt it too. Not for the same reasons, but I know what it feels like." I stared at his

bandaged hands. "When I did that, it was me showing you that I understood. I was trying to give comfort in return." I choked on the last few words.

"I don't need your comfort, Jungkook," he said through gritted teeth. My head snapped up at his words and I shook my head. "Everyone needs comforting sometimes."

"Why the fvck do you make everything so hard?" Taehyung growled, standing up.

At his sudden action, I fell back on my ass but quickly scrambled up to my feet. He moved away from me and turned to the wall, giving me his rigid back instead.

"I'm sorry."

Tears blinded my vision and my nose started to tingle.

"You need to stay in your limits, Jungkook," he warned.

At his words, my body froze and fear took place. He was right. I did overstep my boundaries. I was lost in the moment, so lost in his sweet words and the gentle gaze that I forgot who he was and who I was.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, my voice shaking.

"Leave!" Taehyung ordered.

It felt like a slap in my face and I quickly shuffled back. When I didn't move fast enough, he yelled, "Did you not hear what I said? fvcking leave!"

I choked back a sob and quickly swivelled around, ran out, but stumbled into a hard chest on my way out. I looked up and saw Yoongi's angry face. His eyes roamed over my face and then glanced behind me.

"What were you doing in there?" he snapped.

"I—"

"Stay away from that room." He glared at me. "And stay the fvck away from the boss. He doesn't have time to deal with you. Understood?"

I nodded without saying anything as the tears fell down my cheeks. Yoongi was indifferent as he walked past me and into the piano room. The door closed behind him.

My heart ached at the thought of Taehyung suffering alone. He desperately needed solace, yet refused to accept it even when it was being given to him freely.

Why couldn't he see my pain?

Why couldn't he see that I was the same as him?

He was too blinded by his past.