13
Third Person Pov
Gyubin's eyes widened the moment the car stopped.
Through the open gate of the park, he saw it all the laughter, the scattered sunlight filtering through trees, kids tumbling in the grass, kicking balls, sharing juice boxes. His little fingers pressed against the window before the driver even opened the door.
The moment his feet hit the ground, he was already half-running toward it.
He watched from a short distance as Gyubin walked up to a group of children near the sandbox. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, uncertain.
Then one of the kids looked up and smiled. Another offered him a toy bucket. And just like that... he was part of them.
Taehyung's steps halted.
He stared, silent, as Gyubin's laughter joined theirs as if he had always belonged there. No hesitation. No cold glances. No one asking whose son he was or where his other parent had gone.
It stunned him sometimes. How easily children accepted each other. No questions. No judgments. Just simple warmth and open arms.
Taehyung's chest ached with something bittersweet.
He quietly sat down on the nearest bench, hands clasped in his lap, gaze fixed ahead as if afraid to blink and miss even a second of it.
The sun was soft, filtered by branches swaying gently above him. A mother nearby helped her daughter fix her ponytail. A couple walked by pushing a stroller. Someone flew a kite.
But Taehyung saw none of it.
He only saw Gyubin laughing, chasing bubbles, hair sticking to his forehead.
And for the first time in a long time... it felt like the world had paused for them.
Peaceful. Warm. Real.
He just watched like the scene in front of him was something sacred. Something he wasn't sure he deserved... but was thankful to witness anyway.
"Aren't you...?"
The voice came softly, hesitantly, like someone stumbling upon a memory they weren't sure they were supposed to find.
Taehyung blinked and turned his head, meeting the eyes of a woman standing just beside the bench he was seated on. She looked to be in her late 30s, dressed simply, holding a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.
There was a pause as she squinted slightly at him, brows knitting as her mind tried to connect the face to a name.
"I swear I've seen you before..." she murmured. "You look... really familiar."
Taehyung straightened subtly, his back no longer leaning against the bench. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of his coat.
The woman snapped her fingers softly, her eyes lighting up.
"Wait-Mr. Jeon! You're associated with Mr. Jeon, right? I saw you once on television.... He's your husband, isn't he?"
Taehyung felt the breath hitch slightly in his throat. He tried not to show it.
He offered a faint nod, eyes shifting away toward the field where Gyubin was now laughing with another child on the swing.
"Yes," he said, the word almost buried beneath his breath.
The woman's expression softened into surprise. "Wow... That's... unexpected. You both looked so composed on camera. I always wondered what kind of people stood behind the powerful ones. But I suppose you're just as elegant in person."
Taehyung gave a small, non-committal smile one of those polite ones that didn't reach the eyes.
"Do you mind if I sit?" she asked, motioning to the spot beside him.
He shook his head gently. "Go ahead."
She settled down beside him, smoothing out her coat.
"It's nice here, isn't it? Peaceful, compared to the chaos in the city. I bring my son here when he gets overwhelmed. He's the one in the blue hoodie."
Taehyung followed her gesture with his eyes, spotting a boy around Gyubin's age tumbling around on the grass.
"What about you? Are you here with someone?"
"My son." Taehyung said softly.
"Your son??" She asked confused..."Im sorry but I've never heard anything about Jeon Jungkook's son."
Taehyung's fingers tightened slightly over the fabric of his pants. Jeon Jungkook's son? That sounds absurd but he couldn't say that out loud.
And saying Gyubin was not his son sounds even more absurd.
He didn't like saying that. Not because it wasn't true but because it always felt like a half-truth. Because he had held Gyubin when he took his first step. Because he knew every small scar on that tiny body. Because he stayed up through fevers and night terrors and bedtime stories.
Because it didn't matter who gave birth to him in every way that counted, Gyubin was his.
His hand rubbed over his wrist slowly as he answered, voice a notch lower.
"My sister's son," he said. "But... he lives with me. I've raised him since he was a baby. So, I guess, in every way that matters... he's mine."
The woman didn't speak for a moment. Taehyung could feel her gaze shifting toward him, but he didn't look her way.
"That's... actually really beautiful," she said gently. "You must love him a lot."
A small breath escaped him, one that felt almost like relief.
"I do. More than anything."
The woman turned back to the field, sipping her coffee.
"It's funny, isn't it? How people enter our lives in ways we don't expect. We think love has to follow a certain structure... titles, bloodlines, formal roles. But some of the deepest loves are the ones we never planned for."
Taehyung's throat tightened slightly at that.
She pointed gently toward the sandbox area. "That one's yours, right? The little one with the curls? He's adorable."
Taehyung nodded slowly, and for the first time since she approached, his lips curved into a genuine smile.
"Yeah... that's my Binie."
They both watched the kids in silence for a while the kind of silence that wasn't awkward, just comfortable.
After a few minutes, the woman chuckled softly. "He's brave, you know. Joined that group of kids so quickly. Mine would've taken twenty minutes just to say hello."
Taehyung smiled, eyes soft. "He gets shy sometimes. But he's also... naturally kind. I think it draws others in."
"Takes after you, then?"
Taehyung blinked at that. His gaze faltered, and for a second, he didn't know how to answer.
"I'm not sure," he murmured. "But I hope so."
Taehyung gave her a small nod and was about to turn toward the playground when a sharp, sudden cry pierced the air.
His entire body froze. That voice.
Gyubin.
His head whipped around, eyes scanning frantically until they landed on a small figure curled near the swing set. His heart skipped a beat.
"Binni-"
He didn't finish. His legs were already moving. The woman followed behind quickly, concern flashing in her eyes.
Gyubin sat on the ground, tiny body trembling, clutching his wrist. There was a dark red mark spreading across his sleeve, and his knees were dusty, his curls sticking to his damp forehead.
"Appa-!" Gyubin sobbed the moment he saw him.
Taehyung dropped to his knees beside him, heart pounding as panic overtook his features. "Binnie, what happened-? Oh god, did you fall?"
He reached for the boy's arm instinctively, but Gyubin whimpered and jerked back, crying even louder.
"Don't-! It hurts!"
"I think it's a sprain," the woman said, crouching beside them. "Don't touch it, Taehyung, just support him gently."
Taehyung's breath hitched. His son's teary face, scrunched in pain, shattered something inside him.
"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart... it's okay... we'll fix it," he whispered, brushing the hair from Gyubin's sticky forehead. "Just hold onto me, alright?"
He bent forward, one arm carefully slipping beneath Gyubin's legs while the other supported his back. The boy cried out when his injured wrist shifted, burying his face into Taehyung's chest.
"Sshh, I know, I know. I'm sorry. I've got you now," Taehyung murmured, voice trembling as he held him tighter. "You're okay now. We're going to a doctor. Just hang in there, my love."
The woman stood and took the lead, calling out to the driver who was parked a few meters away.
"There's a clinic nearby. I'll direct you," she told him quickly.
The driver immediately nodded and opened the back door for them.
"Please-just drive fast," Taehyung said breathlessly, climbing in with Gyubin clutched tightly to him. He winced as he tried not to move the boy's wrist too much.
The woman slid into the front seat, her son sitting beside Taehyung in the back, watching Gyubin wide-eyed but silently.
She turned slightly toward the front. "It's about seven minutes away. I've taken my son there once, they're really gentle with kids."
Taehyung only nodded, his hand stroking Gyubin's back as the little boy whimpered into his shirt, holding on tightly.
"It hurts, Appa..."
"I know. Just a little longer. Appa's here," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Gyubin's temple. His baby was in pain. And Taehyung could feel every bit of it stabbing right through his heart.
.
.
.
In the sleek, glass-walled office overlooking the bustling city, Jungkook sat at the head of a long conference table, his fingers steepled in front of him, expression unreadable.
Across from him, a group of investors listened intently, occasionally exchanging looks before one of them nodded, clearly satisfied.
Seokjin sat quietly to Jungkook's left, arms crossed but his posture relaxed letting Jungkook do most of the talking, as always.
Jungkook's voice was level, calm, almost emotionless.
"All the documents will be reviewed by Friday. Once the legal teams approve the revisions, we'll finalize the contract. You'll be contacted for signature authorization before the quarter ends. Until then, operations continue under provisional terms."
His words were precise, clipped, and delivered with a cold efficiency that didn't invite questions.
The oldest investor chuckled lightly, standing up and extending a hand. "You really don't waste time, do you, Mr. Jeon?"
Jungkook rose as well, his handshake firm, though his eyes held none of the warmth typical of a closed deal.
"I prefer not to," he replied simply.
The investors filed out one by one, murmuring polite goodbyes as Seokjin rose to walk them out, only to return moments later and close the door behind him with a soft click.
"You were sharp," Seokjin said, glancing toward Jungkook, who now stood by the window, one hand in his pocket.
Jungkook didn't bother replying. His gaze was fixed on the skyline, though his mind had started to drift elsewhere.
Seokjin approached the desk again, arching a brow as he noticed the stiffness in the younger man's shoulders.
"But your voice was blank," he added, reading between the lines. "You've been like that since morning."
Jungkook didn't respond right away. He inhaled slowly, jaw tightening for a second before he murmured,
"Did the private investigator send any updates?"
Seokjin blinked, then leaned a little on the edge of the desk. "Still stuck at the basics. They're not using cards often nothing digital. Makes tracking difficult."
Jungkook finally turned, eyes sharp but tired.
"I need something soon. I'm not... waiting forever."
Seokjin nodded, expression tightening. "I know."
There was a beat of silence. Then, quietly, Seokjin added,
"You should prepare yourself too, you know. In case it's not what you're expecting."
Jungkook didn't reply. he turned back toward the window, but even then his reflection in the glass looked as cold and composed as ever.
Seokjin watched him from the other side of the room, arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes hard behind his glasses.
Jungkook didn't look up from the tablet in his hand. His expression was blank, detached yet every flick of his finger across the screen was precise, calculated. His mind sharp, his focus ruthless.
A pause stretched between them.
Then Seokjin spoke again, voice firmer now not requesting, not suggesting. Informing.
"I let Taehyung take Gyubin out today."
The scrolling stopped. Just like that, the air shifted.
Jungkook's eyes lifted slowly no shock, no anger just a stillness that was somehow worse.
"Come again?" he asked, voice smooth like ice over steel.
Seokjin didn't flinch. "They went to the park. He needed air. I sent a driver."
Jungkook lowered the tablet not slammed, not tossed just placed it on the table with clinical calm.
His gaze locked onto Seokjin with the weight of something venomous.
"And who," Jungkook said quietly, "gave you the right to authorize that?"
Seokjin's jaw flexed. "I didn't think he needed your permission to step outside."
Jungkook stood, slow and deliberate, adjusting the cuffs of his dark shirt like he was preparing for war.
"You thought wrong."
Seokjin's voice sharpened. "You weren't even here."
"And yet everything still runs by my rules." Jungkook took a step forward, tone frigid. "Don't ever confuse absence with loss of power."
Seokjin kept his voice level. "He mentioned wanting to get some fresh air for Gyubin. I thought it wouldn't hurt. The park nearby. The guards were with them."
"You thought," Jungkook echoed, as if tasting the words. His tone wasn't raised. If anything, it dropped lower smoother. More dangerous. "And since when do you think on his behalf?"
Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, Jungkook. It was just an hour. Kids need the sun. I thought it'd be better than him pacing around the room all day."
"He doesn't get to think for himself," Jungkook said, unmoving. "That's not what the contract says."
A faint silence slipped between them. Jungkook remained composed, voice still devoid of emotion.
"Next time he wants air, open a window."
Seokjin stayed quiet, his expression sharp.
Jungkook's fingers tapped lightly on the desk, eyes narrowing a fraction.
A beat.
Seokjin stared. "You talk about him like he's property."
"He is property," Jungkook replied coolly. "Bound to me by contract. Bound to me by law. Until I say otherwise."
A faint silence slipped between them. Jungkook remained composed, voice still devoid of emotion.
Seokjin stared at Jungkook, who leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, cold, unwavering.
"One day he'll leave," Seokjin said quietly. "Would you still follow him around then?"
For a beat, silence. Then Jungkook's lips curved not into a smile, but something sharper. Amused. As if the question itself was stupid.
"After the contract ends," he said, voice low, measured, "I couldn't care less."
His eyes glinted not with warmth, but with control. Icy. Certain.
"But until then..." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk now. "Every minute of his day. Every breath he takes. Every inch of his body.... is mine."
The words hung in the air like frost, and Seokjin didn't respond.
Because some things weren't meant to be spoken out loud.
Not in front of Jungkook.
His mind wandered, uninvited, to the way Taehyung had smiled earlier that quiet, fleeting joy he'd tried to hide after hearing he could take Gyubin out.
It lingered, just long enough to sting.
Seokjin looked away.
Behind him, Jungkook walked out. Calm. Composed. But unmistakably angry.
Seokjin stood in silence, the door clicking shut behind Jungkook like the tail end of a storm.
Being the elder brother, people often assumed Jungkook respected him. That his words held weight.
But Jeon Jungkook did not respect anyone. He listened, maybe. Tolerated.
Cared, in his odd, fractured ways.
Ways that never showed in warmth or understanding only in the quiet gestures no one else noticed. A silent transfer of shares. A call to delay a board meeting when Seokjin had a fever. A rare nod of approval instead of praise.
And still when it came to control, Jungkook bowed to no one.
Not even him.
Seokjin's eyes dropped to the floor, the room around him unbearably still.
He'd tried to be subtle. Careful. Just enough to give Taehyung space not enough to provoke suspicion.
But with Jungkook, even that was dangerous.
He sighed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as his thoughts drifted again to that gentle smile on Taehyung's face.
He looked so young then. So unlike the man trapped inside Jungkook's empire.
And somewhere deep in Seokjin's chest... he felt it.
The guilt of enabling all this. Of not doing more. But what could he do, really?
Because Jungkook didn't listen.
He commanded.
And everyone even family obeyed.
.
.
.
Taehyung stood still beside the narrow bed, one hand gently resting on Gyubin's trembling shoulder.
The boy's small body tensed as the doctor twisted his wrist ever so slightly part of the physio, but it drew out a muffled sob nonetheless.
Gyubin's eyes were glassy, lips pressed tight to keep from crying out loud.
Still, a single tear slipped down his cheek, catching the low clinic light like glass.
"It's alright," the doctor said softly, voice kind. "You're doing very well."
He gave Gyubin's back a light pat, careful and reassuring.
Taehyung immediately leaned down, brushing Gyubin's damp fringe aside and kissing the top of his head.
"You did so well," he whispered. "So brave."
Gyubin sniffled and clutched Taehyung's sleeve, burying his face into his side as the pain slowly ebbed.
The ladyseated with her own son across the room, offered a small smile eyes warm, a touch of quiet admiration softening her features.
"Thank you, doctor," Taehyung said gently, bowing his head in gratitude before taking Gyubin's hand.
The doctor nodded witj a smile.
They stepped out of the clinic moments later. He looked over at the woman now standing near the door.
"I don't know how to repay you," Taehyung said quietly, bowing slightly toward her as she stepped forward to leave.
the woman replied with a small wave. "Take care of him. That's all that matters."
With that, she turned and walked out with her son into the corridor, her heels clicking faintly on the tiled floor.
Taehyung watched her go for a moment, then glanced down at Gyubin, who had gone silent again eyes still red, but calmer now.
Night had settled across the sky, draping the city in deep violet and gold. The air was cooler now, the breeze brushing softly against Taehyung's skin as he tugged Gyubin's hoodie sleeves down to his wrists.
Taehyung inhaled the night smelled faintly of rain and asphalt.
Free. Just for a little while... it felt like freedom.
Gyubin clung to his hand tighter, and Taehyung gave it a small, reassuring squeeze.
"We'll get your favorite ice cream," he said quietly, a smile curving at the corners of his lips.
Gyubin nodded, still sniffling, but calmer now.
.
.
.
The car rolled to a smooth halt just beyond the iron gates, its headlights slicing through the misty hush of night. The mansion loomed ahead, lit up in soft golden tones elegant, imposing, and utterly cold.
Taehyung exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag as he looked up at the place that felt less like a home and more like a gilded cage. He blinked once before turning his gaze downward.
Gyubin had fallen quiet, his small head resting gently against Taehyung's side, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The boy was still holding onto him not his hand, but the very edge of his sleeve, as if afraid letting go would mean something more than just distance.
Taehyung ran a hand over the child's soft hair. "Come on," he whispered.
Gyubin looked up and nodded, slowly straightening. He kept holding the sleeve, thumb rubbing the fabric unconsciously as they stepped out into the cool night air.
The gates creaked open with a low mechanical groan, and Taehyung felt the familiar chill crawl down his spine.
The guards stood at attention on either side, eyes alert beneath their caps, their gaze briefly flickering over Taehyung before resting on the child. No one spoke. No one ever did.
Taehyung walked forward, head held high, even if his bones felt tired and his chest too full.
Their footsteps echoed quietly on the stone pathway as they made their way past the fountain and the polished cars, drawing closer to the grand double doors.
Gyubin clutched tighter, sensing the change in air like tension layered thick into the marble walls, like something unseen watching from above.
The lights inside flickered behind the glass. Taehyung took one last breath, schooling his face into quiet calm.
Whatever waited beyond those doors questions, warnings, the cold voice of a man who believed in control more than care Taehyung would face it.
Because Gyubin was still at his side. And for tonight, that was enough.
The moment they stepped into the mansion, the warmth of the lights was deceptive it didn't soothe, it only cast deeper shadows.
Taehyung's steps faltered, his hand instinctively pulling Gyubin closer as his eyes locked onto the figure standing at the center of the foyer.
Jeon Jungkook.
He stood with his arms folded neatly across his chest, posture sharp and still as a blade. His dark eyes didn't flicker. They simply stared first at Taehyung, then downward to Gyubin, gaze pausing briefly on the small bandaid wrapped around the child's hand.
Not a single shift in his expression. No questions. No accusations.
And somehow, that silence felt worse.
Taehyung swallowed. His heart was hammering not out of guilt, but because he knew that stare. Knew that unreadable calm always preceded the storm.
"Go inside," Taehyung said softly, turning to Gyubin. The boy's head tilted upward, eyes wide, unsure. His tiny hand clutched even tighter to Taehyung's fingers now, as if he could sense the unspoken danger in the air not loud, but sharp like glass hidden in silk.
Taehyung kneeled down just a little and gently loosened the grip, prying Gyubin's fingers from his own. "I'll be there in a little while," he whispered, placing a soft kiss to the boy's forehead.
Gyubin didn't speak. He only nodded, reluctantly, casting one more glance toward the silent man standing across the room.
Just then, Mr. Haenam stepped in, calm and composed as always. He gave Jungkook a polite nod before crouching beside Gyubin, quietly taking his hand.
Gyubin looked back again. But he didn't resist. His small steps echoed faintly as Mr. Haenam guided him down the corridor one last glance, and then the boy disappeared around the corner.
Now it was just them. The silence thickened.
Taehyung straightened, feeling Jungkook's gaze anchored to his skin like ice. He didn't speak. Neither did Jungkook. The tension between them was the kind that didn't need words to grow.
And still, Jungkook didn't move. He just kept staring.
Waiting.
Judging.
Ready to strike but only when it mattered most.
Then Jungkook's voice cut through the silence low, calm, and terrifying in its restraint.
"Who gave you the permission to leave?"
Taehyung stiffened.
He lifted his gaze slowly, eyes meeting Jungkook's unreadable expression. "I asked Mr. Kim," he replied, voice soft, barely defiant.
There was a flicker in Jungkook's eyes. Amusement? Disbelief? It passed too quickly to name. His brow arched, and then he took a step forward.
Taehyung instinctively took one step back.
But he didn't get the chance to retreat any further because Jungkook reached out, and in a single motion, pulled him in by the waist.
Taehyung gasped, his palms pressed firmly against Jungkook's chest, meeting the smooth fabric of the black shirt stretched over taut muscles. He could feel the heat beneath it, the heartbeat steady and unfazed. Jungkook's grip was iron around his waist possessive, unrelenting.
His voice dipped even lower, velvet-wrapped steel.
"Is he your husband...Or am I your husband?"
The question wasn't a question. It was a warning. A promise.
Taehyung's lips parted in silent shock. The words caught in his throat. His fingers trembled slightly over Jungkook's chest, but he didn't push couldn't. The proximity, the tension, the grip on his body it all burned through his nerves like electricity.
"I-I..." he started, but the rest was a breath.
Jungkook's hand shifted, fingers brushing under the hem of Taehyung's shirt, grazing the raw, healing edge of the ink carved on the side of his waist. The contact was brief, but sharp enough to make Taehyung flinch.
He winced, his whole body tensing.
Jungkook felt it felt exactly where the mark was.
His hand stilled.
And then, slowly, he pressed his palm flat there, fingers curling just enough to make Taehyung arch forward with a soft, involuntary sound. The skin burning as Jungkook's finger digged.
"You had my name inked on your skin," Jungkook murmured, his breath grazing Taehyung's ear.
"And you're asking another man if you can step out?"
Taehyung's chest rose and fell heavily, breath caught somewhere between fear and frustration.
Jungkook's hand was still pressed against his waist, inside his shirt, rough fingertips digging into the raw skin where his name was forcefully etched into Taehyung's flesh.
"I asked you," Taehyung said, eyes refusing to meet Jungkook's. His voice was a whisper of exhaustion. "You didn't reply... and he's your brother. I thought-"
"I could care less." Jungkook cut in sharply, his voice slicing through the sentence like a blade. His expression was carved from ice. "I don't tolerate defiance."
"Let go of me...."
Taehyung said voice hoarse filled with frustration and anger.
But Jungkook didn't budge.
His grip around Taehyung's waist tightened, and the next second, Taehyung gasped as the pain hit him again.
Taehyung winced, chest rising with shallow breaths. " it still hurts."
Then, he leaned in too close, their lips almost touching "That pain is a reminder. That no matter how far you run, no matter who you cry to... your body will always whisper my name first."
Taehyung froze.
The words hit Taehyung like a slap.
"And tonight," he said, his eyes darkened..."I'll show you what fear looks like."
Before Taehyung could react, Jungkook stepped back, grabbing his arm with one swift motion, the grip like iron.
Taehyung tried to pull away, but Jungkook didn't budge his strength, his calm, his precision all terrifying in their silence.
No shouting. No chaos. Just deliberate cruelty disguised in elegance.
"let go-what are you doing-" Taehyung stumbled behind him as they moved through the hallway, the cold marble floor beneath their feet amplifying each step. Panic swelled in his chest, building with every room they passed.
They entered a dim-lit chamber. In the center stood a massive glass tank, water rippling calmly inside. The lights above cast eerie reflections against the glass, shadows dancing like ghosts.
His heart skipped.
"What is this...?" he whispered, breath fogging the glass as he stepped closer.
The sound of water shifting made him flinch. Then movement.
Fins. Sharp. Sleek.
Sharks. Many sharks.
And they weren't ornaments. They were real.
Taehyung stepped back instantly, eyes wide. "What are you...this isn't funny."
"I'm not laughing." came Jungkook's voice from behind, still cold. Still flat.
Before Taehyung could run, two guards appeared out of nowhere like shadows holding him. He gasped, struggling, calling out.
"Let me go-"
Jungkook stood with his hands in his pockets, watching. There was no anger in his eyes anymore. Just detachment. Like this wasn't personal like it was simply necessary.
"You think walking out without my permission is acceptable?" Jungkook asked casually, taking a seat beside the tank. "You think asking someone else makes it better? Do you forget who you belong to?"
"I don't belong to anyone," Taehyung spat, though his voice shook.
"the name on your skin says otherwise."
With a nod from Jungkook, the guards moved. One of them grabbed Taehyung's right arm and yanked up his sleeve. Taehyung fought like hell kicking, twisting but he was outnumbered. Overpowered.
"No-no stop this!!!" he cried, his voice raw.
And then
His hand plunged into the cold water.
The silence shattered.
Taehyung froze, every breath locking in his lungs. The chill shot through his veins like poison.
He could see the shadows moving beneath the surface fast, circling.
His legs gave out, but the guards held him firm.
"Me.Jeon! Please-!" Taehyung's voice cracked, panic climbing up his throat like a scream trapped under his ribs.
Jungkook lit a cigarette from the ornate tray beside him, taking a slow drag as his eyes never left Taehyung.
"Feels like you aren't scared of me anymore," he said quietly. "Let's see how much that's true."
The shark moved closer.
Taehyung's breathing turned to gasps, legs trembling, hand shaking beneath the water. His body strained against the guards as the shark's tail flicked and it swam straight toward him.
"No no no no please-"
The water rippled. Just as the shark closed in its smooth, cold body slicing through the dark tank, rows of teeth visible even beneath the surface-it stopped.
Abruptly. Unnaturally.
Its massive head tilted slightly, its body hovering still for a fraction of a second. Then, without warning, it turned slow, precise and glided away into the depths.
The others followed, their sleek forms vanishing like ghosts into the far end of the tank, silent as death.
Jungkook flicked the ash off his cigarette.
Taehyung was sobbing now, watching as the creature turned away, as if trained perfectly obedient. A near-miss, intentional and terrifying.
"You see," Jungkook said, "I don't need to raise a hand to make you fall apart."
Taehyung was frozen tears falling, trembling violently as his fingers remained submerged, the bone-deep chill of the water wrapping around his skin. His breath hitched, lips parted in shock, his eyes searching the surface as if trying to understand what had just happened.
He didn't move. Couldn't.
The silence that followed was heavier than the chaos that came before. His knees buckled slightly, the guards holding him still, but his mind was elsewhere back with the monster that had nearly grazed his wrist.
Behind him, the sound of polished shoes against the floor drew closer. Steady. Controlled.
Taehyung dared to glance back.
Jungkook's arms were crossed loosely in front of his chest, head tilted slightly to the side, watching.
Taehyung's gaze flicked to the tank once more empty now. Still.
As if they'd never been there at all.
As if they had been waiting for something.
As if they had been... called off.
A sudden realization crawled up Taehyung's spine, more terrifying than the threat itself.
They didn't stop because of him.
They stopped because of Him.
His stomach dropped.
The sharks hadn't retreated out of instinct. They'd been commanded.
"Never walk out without asking me again," Jungkook said.
He turned, tossing the half-burnt cigarette into a tray, and walked away without another word, his steps echoing as the guards let Taehyung fall to the floor.
And for the first time in a long time, Taehyung didn't feel anger.