47
Third Person Pov
The morning came early. Pale light seeped through the curtains, brushing the room in muted gold. Taehyung carefully slipped out of bed, leaving Gyubin still curled up, his little chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.
The mansion was silent, unusually so. Jungkook was nowhere in sight. Taehyung exhaled slowly, shoulders easing a little. A morning without his shadow pressed against him felt… lighter.
He padded into the kitchen, greeted by the familiar warmth of the stove and the quiet hum of activity. Mr. Haenam glanced up from where he was overseeing the chef, giving Taehyung a respectful nod.
“Good morning.” the old butler said softly.
“Morning, Mr. Haenam,” Taehyung replied with a small smile. His mood lifted further when he felt something soft curl around his ankles.
He looked down... Daisy.
The kitten mewed, brushing insistently against his feet until he scooped her up. “Daisy, aren’t you being too naughty today?” he asked gently, holding her against his chest.
She purred, eyes narrowing in contentment, nuzzling into him as if she had no plans to leave. Taehyung chuckled, his fingers trailing over her soft fur. “You just want breakfast, don’t you?”
He carried her to the corner, preparing her little bowl with practiced hands before setting it down. Daisy immediately pounced forward, tail twitching as she devoured her food with tiny, eager bites. Taehyung crouched beside her for a moment, smiling despite himself.
“Even in this big, cold house,” he murmured, almost to himself, “you act like it’s only yours.”
Behind him, the chef continued chopping vegetables with precise strokes. Taehyung, restless, drifted closer to the counter. “Let me help,” he said, picking up another knife before the chef could protest.
Mr. Haenam’s brow furrowed slightly. “Taehyung-ssi you don't have to do this everyday…”
Taehyung just offered him a smile, the kind that didn’t ask for permission. He rolled his sleeves up and joined in, slicing vegetables with surprising ease. The simple act grounded him, a small island of normalcy in the chaos his life had become.
Mr. Haenam observed quietly from the side, his gaze flicking from the young master’s gentle hands to the empty doorway beyond. He didn’t say anything, but in his silence lingered a quiet awareness that Jungkook’s absence wouldn’t last long, and that peace, as always, was fleeting in this house.
The CEO's steps were slow as he descended the staircase, one hand resting lazily on the banister. His gaze was sharp, unwavering, drawn to the figure moving inside the kitchen.
Taehyung.
The younger was leaned slightly over the counter, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair falling into his eyes as he carefully worked with the vegetables.
His hands moved with precision graceful, even in something as ordinary as chopping greens.
Jungkook’s eyes followed the way those slender fingers curled around the knife, the faint press of his bottom lip when he focused, the soft curve of his wrist when he handed something to the chef.
It was almost too easy for his thoughts to wander.... until his phone vibrated in his pocket.
The name flashing across the screen made his eyes narrow. Seokjin.
He answered without pausing his steps.
“Hello.”
There was a breath on the other end, unsteady. Then a voice cracked low, as though weighed down by something too heavy to carry.
“Eomma is no more.”
Jungkook’s steps stopped mid-landing. For a moment, silence stretched thin between them.
“…How?” His voice was calm.
“I had come to her room,” Seokjin’s voice faltered, the composure breaking, “I tried to wake her but… she didn’t move. She didn’t wake up.”
Jungkook stood there, his posture rigid. His grip on the phone tightened just a fraction, the only betrayal of something stirring beneath that mask of stillness.
From below, Taehyung turned his head slightly, catching sight of Jungkook standing frozen on the stairs, phone pressed to his ear. His brows knit faintly. There was something different about the CEO’s aura... stiller, heavier.
Jungkook inhaled once, slow and deliberate. “I see,” he murmured, voice flat but with an edge sharp enough to slice through the quiet.
On the other end, Seokjin said nothing only a faint sound that might have been a shaky breathe.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to the kitchen again. Taehyung was still watching, though subtly, his hands resting on the counter as if sensing the shift in atmosphere. Daisy meowed faintly at his feet, the only innocent sound in that sudden, suffocating quiet.
Jungkook ended the call without another word. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his expression void, but his gaze lingered one last time on the younger man below before he resumed his descent.
The echo of his footsteps was heavier this time.
The CEO sat on the couch, his elbows braced against his knees, head bowed as though the weight of the entire world rested on his shoulders. His phone still rested in his hand, but his grip had loosened so much that it threatened to fall any second.
Taehyung had sensed it before Jungkook even spoke.
The air in the room had shifted, heavy with something unspoken.
His eyes lingered on the man sitting on the couch, stiff and motionless, the glow of his phone still illuminating his hand.
He didn’t ask he didn’t dare. But deep down, Taehyung knew. Someone was gone.
Across the room, Gyubin appeared in his tiny beanie, Daisy squirming in his arms. The little boy adjusted the hat with one hand, hugging the kitten closer with the other, his wide eyes scanning the tense silence between the adults.
“...Water?” Taehyung’s voice was quiet, hesitant as his hand was extended with a glass of water.
Jungkook didn’t move at first, as though the word didn’t reach him. Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes met Taehyung’s not sharp or taunting this time, but clouded. A kind of exhaustion that words couldn’t cover.
He didn’t take the glass, but he didn’t push it away either. Taehyung set it on the table beside him and straightened, unsure what to do. His lips parted like he might say something an awkward “I’m sorry” maybe but nothing.
Jungkook leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes. “She was… the only one left.” His voice was low, almost a murmur, but the rawness in it startled Taehyung.
Taehyung’s throat tightened. He wasn’t sure why hearing Jungkook sound so broken made his chest ache. He hated this man hated him for everything he had done, for everything he had stolen from him. And yet, seeing Jungkook like this… he didn’t know how to hold that hate steady.
The cat in Gyubin's hand purred, and the faint sound seemed to pull Jungkook back.
His eyes flickered open, steadying themselves again as though he had remembered who he was supposed to be.
But Taehyung had already seen it, the crack in the armor, the fracture that made Jungkook unbearably human. And it left him confused, his emotions tangled in a way he didn’t want to admit.
When Jungkook finally lifted his head as if he had swallowed every trace of weakness. He rose from the couch, the weight of grief carefully hidden behind that familiar wall.
Jungkook’s voice broke through, low and firm. “Get ready. We’re going to Seokjin’s.”
The words felt like a blade cutting through the quiet.
Taehyung’s chest tightened painfully. His mind instantly pictured her the gentle woman who had smiled at him warmly despite the chaos of his life, who had spoken softly to Gyubin as if the child were her own.
She had been too kind for this world. And yet, fate never spared kindness.
He swallowed hard, his voice failing him, so he simply nodded. Turning toward Gyubin, he reached out and took his small hand, squeezing it gently as though to shield him from the weight of the moment. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, guiding him toward the room to get dressed.
Behind them, Jungkook exhaled deeply, dragging a hand through his hair.
It was a sharp, frustrated motion, the kind of gesture a man makes when he wants to tear the ache out of his chest but can’t.
.
.
.
The graveyard was shrouded in a damp stillness, the kind of silence that pressed into the chest and made every breath feel heavier.
The sky was a washed-out gray, clouds sagging low as though mourning alongside the people gathered.
A cool breeze carried the faint rustle of leaves, but it could not cut through the suffocating grief in the air.
The coffin, polished mahogany with lilies laid across it, was lowered into the ground. A dull thud echoed each time soil was shoveled over, the sound lodging itself in the hearts of those present.
Seokjin stood closest, his figure rigid yet fragile. His head hung low, hair shadowing his face. His lips trembled as though forming prayers, but no sound left him.
Only his eyes betrayed him, shiny with unshed tears, blinking fast to keep them from falling.
Taehyung, standing to the side, felt his chest ache at the sight. He had never seen Seokjin this broken, this vulnerable. Seokjin had been a steady hand in many storms. And now, watching him unravel in front of his mother’s grave, Taehyung’s throat tightened.
He felt Gyubin’s small fingers curl tighter around his own. Taehyung looked down to see his son clutching Daisy in one arm, the kitten nestled against his chest, while his other hand squeezed Taehyung’s like he was anchoring him.
The boy’s wide eyes were fixed on Seokjin, full of innocent confusion. He didn’t understand why adults cried like this, why everyone was so quiet, why the ground was swallowing a wooden box. Yet even in his young mind, he knew it was something final.
Taehyung bent slightly, adjusting the beanie. Gyubin's let him, his lips pressed together, as though even he didn’t want to break the silence.
Behind Seokjin, Jungkook stood still, dressed in sharp black. He looked every inch the cold, impenetrable CEO the world knew him to be... shoulders squared, jaw firm, his eyes locked on the coffin with a gaze so sharp it almost seemed to cut the air around him.
He hadn’t moved since they arrived. Not a shift, not a sigh. It was as if grief itself dared not touch him.
But when Seokjin’s hand trembled, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he whispered, “I talked with her last night… and now she’s gone,” his voice cracked, raw and breaking.
The sound seemed to echo in the graveyard, hanging heavy between the trees. Taehyung’s eyes stung instantly, but before he could dwell on it, a movement from Jungkook drew his gaze.
The CEO stepped forward, his presence sudden and commanding. A hand, steady and firm, came to rest on Seokjin’s shoulder.
Seokjin stiffened at first, then turned, his vision blurred with tears. He met Jungkook’s face not a single crack in his composure.
Seokjin collapsed into the embrace as though something inside him finally gave way.
His frame shook violently, his muffled sobs burying into Jungkook’s embrace.
The CEO didn’t flinch, didn’t move to comfort with soft words.
He simply stood there, arms wrapped solidly around Seokjin, unyielding, like a fortress holding up a crumbling wall.
Taehyung watched in stunned silence. The image burned itself into him: the man who had always been sharp edges and cold glances now standing in the middle of a graveyard, silently shielding another man’s grief without hesitation.
There was no performance, no display. Just quiet strength.
Taehyung’s lips parted as though to say something, but nothing came.
Gyubin tugged on his sleeve then, whispering, “Appa… why is Mr.Kim crying?” His innocent voice almost shattered him.
Taehyung knelt, holding Gyubin's hand, whispering back, “Because sometimes… even the strongest people break.”
When he stood again, Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward him for the briefest second. Piercing but there was something hidden, something fractured deep in those irises.
Taehyung quickly looked away, his grip tightening on Gyubin’s hand as if to steady himself.
The graveyard was still. The only sound was Seokjin’s muffled cries against Jungkook’s chest, and the distant caw of crows circling above, as if even the sky had come to watch this rare moment of humanity.
One by one, the mourners began to drift away.
Shoes pressed softly into the damp soil, coats pulled tighter against the breeze, voices hushed with polite condolences before vanishing into silence.
The polished cars that had lined the graveyard road now rolled slowly out through the iron gates, until only a few lingered figures remained.
But Seokjin didn’t move. He stood rigid in front of the grave, his eyes fixed on the freshly turned earth, his lips pressed tight as though to keep another sob from escaping. His hands hung helplessly by his sides.
And Jungkook stayed with him.
The CEO’s presence was unyielding, one hand clasped firmly around Seokjin’s arm.
The CEO’s guard stepped closer to Taehyung, bowing slightly. “Let’s go, Sir Jeon,” he said in a low, respectful tone.
Taehyung blinked, then nodded. He glanced back once just once at the sight of Seokjin and Jungkook.
Two figures standing side by side before the grave, one trembling with grief, the other unmovable as stone.
He tightened his hold on Gyubin’s hand. “Come, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Together, Taehyung, Gyubin, and Daisy walked slowly toward the gates.
The crunch of gravel beneath their shoes faded as distance grew, but Taehyung’s heart refused to. His mind lingered stubbornly on the image behind him: Jungkook and Seokjin, left behind in the silence of the graveyard, as though the world had narrowed down to only the two of them.
And still Jungkook did not let go of Seokjin’s arm and the way he held onto Seokjin showed a promise unspoken.
A flash of another time... his office, the smell of coffee warm in the air. Seokjin’s mother had been seated comfortably on the couch, her eyes soft with nostalgia.
Jungkook sat across from her, posture straight as always, fingers curled around his cup. She talked gently, reminiscing about Seokjin’s childhood, about the boy who used to scrape his knees yet always stood up tall, about the laughter that used to echo through their small house.
Jungkook had only nodded at intervals, offering small hums in response. It wasn’t his nature to fill silences, but she never seemed to mind. She smiled at him as if she could see right through his walls.
And then her tone shifted, quieter, yet heavier.
“Never leave him, Jungkook. I know you’re younger, but promise me... when no one else is by his side, you’ll take care of each other.”
Jungkook’s eyes had flickered up, meeting hers. He hadn’t answered, only dipped his head in the smallest acknowledgment. But that was enough for her.
The memory faded.
Back in the present, the soil was still fresh over her grave. Seokjin’s breathing was uneven beside him, grief breaking through in waves, but Jungkook’s face did not change.
Not a single tear left him. .
Yet his eyes, his eyes were fixed, unwavering, on the grave.
As if by staring long enough, he could carry out the promise she had asked of him.
.
.
.
It was late into the night. The mansion lay in silence, its grand halls cloaked in shadows. Only the faint ticking of an old clock echoed somewhere deep inside, a reminder that time still moved forward, even when hearts refused to.
Taehyung couldn’t sleep. His mind was too restless, burdened by the weight of everything he had seen that day.
So he wandered. His steps were quiet as he strolled down the marble corridor, eventually finding himself in the garden.
The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of damp soil and fading flowers.
He tilted his head back, gazing up at the silver moon hanging lonely in the sky. A sigh escaped his lips. How could Jungkook not shed a single tear?
“Sometimes life can be so cruel…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, carried away by the night breeze.
He thought of Seokjin how heavy the loss must weigh on him, how hollow his chest must feel. And then he thought of Jungkook, of the way he stood beside him, not as a man once holding a gun to his head, but as an anchor. Taehyung closed his eyes for a moment.
Was that really the same Jungkook? The same man who had pressed a trigger without hesitation, who had stood in the middle of the road with murder in his gaze?
It was almost laughable almost ironic.
Because the very same men who once swore to destroy each other had stood shoulder to shoulder in grief. No bloodshed, no vengeance, only silence and loss binding them.
Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. He couldn’t decide if it was terrifying or strangely human. Perhaps both.
Taehyung was about to return to his room when he caught sight of movement.
Jungkook.
The CEO’s tall frame moved slowly through the corridor, his gaze heavy, his steps quiet but deliberate.
For a moment, their eyes met. Taehyung froze under that stare, his breath catching in his throat.
And then almost instinctively he looked away, turning as if to leave before their paths could cross.
But Jungkook’s footsteps shifted. He was walking towards him.
Taehyung’s heart quickened. He could feel the weight of that gaze even as he kept his eyes low. Soon, Jungkook stood in front of him, close enough that Taehyung could feel the faint warmth radiating from his presence.
“I’m stressed,” Jungkook said lowly, his voice raw, almost dangerous. “Relax me.”
Before Taehyung could even process the words, Jungkook’s hand closed around his wrist. Taehyung’s eyes widened.
“W–what are you doing?” he stammered as Jungkook tugged him forward, pulling him down the hall with a grip that was both unyielding and possessive.
Then...
“Appa?”
Gyubin’s small voice echoed faintly from somewhere behind them. Taehyung’s head snapped toward the sound, his lips parting as he instinctively tried to answer. “Gyu—”
But before the name could leave his mouth, Jungkook clamped a hand firmly over his lips. Taehyung’s muffled protest vibrated against Jungkook’s palm, his wide eyes filled with shock.
“Shh,” Jungkook whispered sharply.
He shoved Taehyung through the nearest door, closing it silently behind them before pressing him against the wall.
Taehyung’s back hit the cold surface, his chest heaving. Jungkook’s hand remained over his mouth as his other arm twisted Taehyung’s wrists, pinning both hands behind him in one strong grip.
“Mmhh—” Taehyung’s muffled sounds filled the quiet room, desperate, startled.
Outside, Gyubin’s little voice called again. “Appa?”
The sound tugged at Taehyung’s chest, but Jungkook’s hold only tightened, his eyes glinting with a storm of emotions Taehyung couldn’t name.
“Don’t answer him,” Jungkook whispered, voice like a sin. “Right now, you’re mine.”
Taehyung let out a muffled gasp, twisting in his hold, but it only made Jungkook pin him harder, pressing his body flush against his. The hard lines of Jungkook’s frame caged him in, heat radiating through the thin barrier of their clothes.
“Appa where are you?” Gyubin’s small voice rang again, closer now, just outside.
Taehyung’s heart raced he wanted to cry out, to answer but Jungkook’s palm pressed tighter, silencing him completely.
His mind screamed pervert, shameless man but his body betrayed him, heat pooling low, breath hitching at every whisper grazing his ear.
Just then...
The soft pad pad of Gyubin’s slippers stopped right outside the door. Taehyung froze completely, his pulse hammering so loudly he was sure it could be heard. His son was right there. One turn of the knob, and...
A faint mewl cut through the silence. Daisy.
“Daisy-ah…” Gyubin’s voice softened with a giggle. Taehyung’s eyes widened with relief and horror all at once. He could hear Gyubin crouch, the kitten mewling louder as she was scooped into small arms.
Jungkook’s lips curled against his temple. He had no intention of letting go.
His hand stayed firmly clamped over Taehyung’s mouth as he lowered his head, brushing his nose along the line of Taehyung’s jaw, drinking in the way Taehyung stiffened and gasped against his palm.
“He won’t come in,” Jungkook murmured like a promise, or a threat. His voice was so deep it vibrated against Taehyung’s skin. “Relax. Your son’s too busy with that cat.”
As if on cue, Gyubin’s small feet padded away, back toward his room, Daisy mewling happily in his hold. The hallway grew quiet again.
But Jungkook didn’t move away. If anything, he pressed closer, his hand still sealing Taehyung’s mouth, his other tightening on his wrists. His dark eyes drank in the sight of Taehyung’s flushed face, the ragged rise and fall of his chest.
“You hear that?” Jungkook whispered, brushing his lips near Taehyung’s ear, just enough to make him shiver.
“Silence. Which means…” His thumb stroked slowly along Taehyung’s jaw, even as his palm muffled his lips. “…you belong to me for as long as I want.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth and bit down hard on Jungkook’s palm.
The taste of iron spread on his tongue, but he didn’t care he just wanted to get free.
Jungkook didn’t even flinch. He only raised a brow, pulling his hand back slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You really think you can fight me like this?” his voice was low, laced with menace.
“Leave me,” Taehyung finally breathed, his chest heaving as he struggled in Jungkook’s grip. “Mr. Jeon—”
Before he could finish, Jungkook’s patience snapped. With one swift movement, he spun Taehyung around and slammed him against the wall, the impact knocking the breath out of him.
Taehyung’s palms flattened helplessly against the cold surface as Jungkook pressed his body flush against his back, caging him completely.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Jungkook whispered against his ear, his breath hot and deliberate. His hand captured both of Taehyung’s wrists in one tight grip, pinning them high against the wall.
Taehyung twisted under him, his voice breaking, “L-Let go—”
“Shut up,” Jungkook cut him off, his tone razor-sharp. His hips pressed forward just enough to make Taehyung gasp. “Do you even realize how easy it is for me to break your little defiance, yeah?”
Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes squeezing shut, his mind torn between fear and that maddening pull he hated to admit.
Jungkook leaned closer, his lips brushing dangerously near Taehyung’s shoulder “You bite me again,” he murmured, dark amusement in his voice, “and I’ll make sure you regret it in ways you can’t even imagine.”
And then, before Taehyung could react, he was lifted effortlessly into Jungkook’s arms in a bridal style.
“What is your problem?!” Taehyung hissed, wriggling, kicking lightly, his face burning with both frustration and disbelief.
Jungkook didn’t flinch. His grip was ironclad, as he walked out of the room and carried him toward his bedroom. He opened the door and set Taehyung down gently yet firmly on the bed.
Without a word, he turned toward the closet, moving with that calm,dangerous confidence that always made Taehyung’s heart skip.
Taehyung, flustered, scrambled to his feet. “No! I’m leaving!” he stammered, rushing toward the door but his foot caught on the rug. He stumbled, falling with a loud thud that echoed through the room.
Jungkook stilled for a split second at the sound, then shook his head, his dark eyes narrowing.
He stepped toward Taehyung, who was still on the floor, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration.
“I won’t let you close the door on me again,” Jungkook said quietly, almost casually, but the menace in his tone made Taehyung’s stomach twist.
“I don’t want to sleep with you." Taehyung blurted, trying to push himself away as Jungkook knelt down.
Jungkook ignored his protests. With a swift, commanding movement, he caught Taehyung by the ankle. Heat shot up Taehyung’s body, his eyes widening as he gasped, trying to pull back.
“What--what are you doing?!” he hissed, panic laced with something sharper as his pulse raced.
Jungkook’s lips curled, his gaze fixed on the helpless stretch of Taehyung’s body beneath him. “Dragging you back. Where else would you go?” he murmured, his voice low and possessive as he dragged him across the floor toward the bed.
The rug rasped against Taehyung’s skin, each thud of his body against the floor echoing with a strange, dangerous rhythm. His breath stuttered, the resistance in his limbs weakening with every pull, every second turning the air thicker, charged, unbearably heavy.
Jungkook didn’t even let Taehyung catch his breath. With a swift, he lifted him and gently but firmly pushed him onto the bed.
Taehyung’s eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping him as he noticed the glint of handcuffs hanging from Jungkook’s waistband.
“What… what is that?” Taehyung stammered, panic.
Jungkook’s lips curved into that faint, dangerous smirk. Without a word, he removed the cuffs and took Taehyung’s hand, slipping one side around his wrist before snapping the other side onto his own. The cold metal clicked, sealing them together.
“You—” Taehyung breathed, the sound half defiance, half disbelief.
Jungkook simply leaned down, pressing his weight against Taehyung. One cuffed hand trapped Taehyung’s wrist above his head, the other hand slipping under his shirt, fingers brushing over skin, teasing, exploring.
“You don’t feel a little bit guilty, do you?” Taehyung asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though the quickening of his heartbeat betrayed him.
Jungkook shook his head, letting his lips brush against the sensitive hollow of Taehyung’s neck. “Guilty?” he murmured, voice low, rough. “No. I enjoy every bit of this.”
His teeth grazed the side of Taehyung’s neck, followed by heated kisses that made Taehyung shiver uncontrollably.
“We’re married,” Jungkook whispered against Taehyung’s neck, lips trailing slowly over his skin. “That means I can have you anytime I want.”
Taehyung’s breath hitched, chest heaving. “And my permission… doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Permission? I love asking… but the way you always melt for me—” his hand slid down his waist, pressing him closer, “...you’re already saying yes without a word.”
The cuff rattled as Taehyung tugged at it, his pulse racing. Jungkook’s heat smothered him, his presence overwhelming.
Jungkook’s gaze didn’t waver as he hovered above Taehyung, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. Taehyung’s wide eyes betrayed both fear and defiance, the kind of look that only provoked Jungkook further.
The CEO’s hand slid from Taehyung’s waist up to his face, his fingers brushing against soft skin before catching the cool silver earring dangling from Taehyung’s ear.
Without hesitation, Jungkook tugged on it just enough to make Taehyung wince, his lips parting in a sharp breath. Jungkook watched every twitch, every flinch, every shiver with a dark fascination.
A smirk ghosted over his lips before he dipped his head lower. His mouth brushed against the same ear he’d just hurt, pressing a slow kiss there.
The contrast, the sting followed by warmth made Taehyung’s throat tighten as he swallowed hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sound.
“Get off me,” Taehyung whispered, the words breathless, fragile against the heavy air between them.
Jungkook only hummed in response, the low vibration against Taehyung’s skin sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. His free hand traced Taehyung’s jaw, firm and possessive, while the handcuffs clinked as Taehyung tugged desperately, trying to pull away.
The metal rattled, but Jungkook’s hold didn’t falter if anything, his grip grew tighter, his body pressing down harder.
“You think these cuffs can break?” Jungkook murmured against his ear, his voice low, steady, and maddeningly calm. “Stop fighting. You’ll only exhaust yourself.”
Taehyung sighed softly, his chest rising and falling beneath the weight of Jungkook’s stare.
Jungkook began to lean in, slow and deliberate, as though savoring the anticipation. Taehyung’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his lips parted on instinct. He licked them nervously, a betraying gesture that Jungkook’s eyes immediately caught.
The CEO was a breath away, his shadow falling over Taehyung’s face, his warmth stealing the air from between them when Taehyung tilted his head abruptly to the side, breaking the spell.
Jungkook stilled. For a long moment, the silence stretched, heavy and taut. Then, with a small shake of his head, amusement glinting in his eyes, as though he found Taehyung’s stubborn resistance more tempting than surrender.
Without a word, he shifted, sliding aside just enough to give space, but not freedom. His arm snaked around Taehyung’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest, forcing the younger’s head to rest there.
Taehyung froze at first, his lashes fluttering against his skin. Then he heard it, the steady, calm heartbeat beneath the man’s ribs. It filled his ears, grounding and unnerving all at once.
“Just one and a half month more…” Taehyung murmured, barely audible, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them.
For the first time, Jungkook’s heartbeat faltered. It picked up, faster than before, betraying him in a way his face never could.
His grip around Taehyung’s waist tightened, his hand pressing firm as though anchoring him there, as though the thought of time running out unsettled him more than he would ever admit.
Taehyung’s lips parted, his breath catching at the change.
Was this it? Beneath that cold armor, that unshakable mask was Jungkook… scared of losing him?
Taehyung lay there with his heart in knots, staring into the dark as if it could give him answers.
He should have felt relief, he’d been counting the days, marking them like scratches on a prison wall, waiting for freedom from this man, from this cage they called marriage.
He told himself he was happy. He told himself he was ready.
But Jungkook’s silence was louder than any scream. The way his chest rose beneath Taehyung’s cheek, steady yet uneven, the way his hand refused to let go as if terrified he’d slip away the warmth burned through Taehyung’s resolve. His throat tightened.
Why did it ache like this? Why did it feel as though the very thing he had wanted most leaving was about to break him in ways staying never had?