14 • The terrifying reality of her present...

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Part : 14

Tittle : The terrifying reality of her present...

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Quote : She was indeed scared of him, but she also knew only he could save her from those others she fear also...

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(Y/n) stood before the familiar yet unwelcoming sight of her apartment door. A hesitant knock echoed in the narrow hallway. After a tense few moments, the door creaked open, revealing her step-mother. The woman filled the doorway, clad in a floral maxi, her head a bizarre landscape of pink and blue hair-curlers.

As (Y/n) started to step inside, a sharp pain shot through her scalp. Her step-mother had grabbed a fistful of her hair, the grip tight and unforgiving. "The sun has been down for hours, you worthless girl! Where in the hell have you been?" Her voice was a harsh screech, laced with venom. In the dimly lit living room, her step-brother leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the scene unfold, the vile words directed at (Y/n) seemingly amusing him.

Without warning, her step-mother shoved her violently. (Y/n) stumbled backward, her elbow slamming hard against the sharp corner of the nearby coffee table, a jolt of searing pain shooting up her arm. The assault continued as her step-mother rained down blows with her hands, her voice rising to a furious crescendo. "You've been out whoring around, haven't you? With some filthy men!"

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes, not just from the physical pain but from the utter injustice of the accusation. She was pure, her heart untouched by any romantic entanglement. The thought of even looking at another man was foreign to her, her affections having been solely and tragically devoted to the one who now haunted her memories. The irony of her step-mother's cruel words was a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Get in there and clean those dishes! And make it snappy!" her step-mother shrieked, shoving (Y/n) towards the small, cluttered kitchen. The sting of the earlier blows still lingered, and her elbow throbbed with a dull ache, but she numbly moved to the sink, the clatter of dirty plates and a soundtrack to her misery.

As she began to scrub the grime from a frying pan, a presence filled the doorway. Her step-brother sauntered in, his eyes lingering on her in a way that made her skin crawl. He opened the refrigerator with a casual air, the hum of the appliance momentarily filling the tense silence. He reached for a bottle of water, but his gaze never left her, a predatory glint in his eyes that spoke volumes of his vile intentions. A wave of nausea washed over (Y/n), the confined space of the kitchen suddenly feeling suffocating.

Relief washed over (Y/n) as she finished the last dish, the clatter of porcelain a small rebellion against the oppressive silence. She hurried upstairs, her injured elbow protesting with each movement, desperate for the sanctuary of her small room. She reached the door, her hand already on the knob, eager to shut out the suffocating presence downstairs.

But just as the door began to close, a sudden force pushed it open wider, and her step-brother stepped inside. The click of the lock echoed ominously as he shut the door behind him, trapping her. He began to advance slowly, his footsteps soft on the worn wooden floor, each step closing the distance between them.

Panic flared in (Y/n)'s chest. She instinctively backed away, her heel catching on the edge of the small rug by her bed. She stumbled, her ankle twisting sharply beneath her as she fell heavily to the floor. A searing pain shot through her leg, rendering it useless. Tears of pain and fear welled in her eyes. Helpless, she began to crawl backward, dragging herself across the floor until her back pressed against the cold, hard wall.

He continued to approach, his shadow looming over her. (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling with fear and a profound sense of disgust. She braced herself, every muscle in her body tense, anticipating the violation she so desperately feared.

A sudden, violent thud reverberated through the small room, making (Y/n) jump. She flinched, her eyes snapping open. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight before her. Jungkook stood there, his form radiating a terrifying rage, his hand clamped around her step-brother's neck. The boy was lifted off his feet, his body dangling against the wall, his face contorted in a silent struggle for air. Jungkook held him effortlessly with a single hand, the other still casually tucked in his pocket, a chilling display of his immense power.

Ignoring the searing pain in her ankle, (Y/n) pushed herself to her feet, a desperate instinct to protect the boy overriding her fear of Jungkook. She stumbled towards him from behind, her hands reaching out to tug at his shirt. He didn't even flinch, his focus entirely consumed by the choking figure in his grasp.

"Please… stop! Please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling, but Jungkook remained unmoved, his crimson eyes burning with a furious intensity that seemed to see right through the boy's vile intentions. Tears streamed down her face as she reached out with both arms, wrapping them around his waist, clinging to him with all her strength in a desperate attempt to pull him back.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the rigid tension in Jungkook's body began to ease. He released his grip on the boy's neck, not from the force of her pull, but because the way she held him, her small hands clutching his shirt, her head resting against his back, felt achingly familiar, a tender and calming embrace that resonated deep within his tormented soul. He let out a shaky sigh, the raw anger slowly receding. The boy, gasping for air, scrambled away and fled from the room.

Silence descended, broken only by (Y/n)'s soft, shuddering sobs. Her head remained pressed against Jungkook's back, her trembling hands clinging to his shirt, the fragile embrace a silent testament to the tangled threads of their shared past and the terrifying reality of her present.

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[- Is it going good hmm?] My goodness, look at this blushing mess... Bish, stob...

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