63
Third Person Pov
The room felt too quiet. The only sounds were Taehyung’s fast breathing and the loud pounding of his heart. He pushed himself up from the bed, gripping the headboard tightly because his legs were still weak. His head throbbed beneath the bandage, making everything feel heavier, harder.
Jungkook watched him without blinking. His face gave nothing away. Slowly, he began walking toward Taehyung, each step slow and steady, like he knew exactly what power he held.
“N-no…” Taehyung whispered, stepping backward. His eyes darted around the room in panic, searching for something anything to protect himself. His gaze landed on the vase at the side table.
He grabbed it with shaking hands. Even that small vase felt too heavy, his fingers trembling so much he worried he might drop it. Still, he raised it in front of him like a shield.
“I will h-hit you…” he stammered, voice barely a threat.
Jungkook’s lips parted slightly. His reply came calm and cold.
“Is that so?”
Taehyung froze. Those words. That exact tone. It dragged him back to every moment his mind kept repeating like a broken record.
His breath sped up again, afraid and helpless.
Jungkook came closer until he stood right in front of Taehyung, their faces only inches apart. Taehyung could feel the warmth of his body, could see the tattoos on his forearms moving as his muscles tensed.
The vase shook violently in Taehyung’s hands. He didn’t know if he could lift it again if he lowered it. He didn’t know if he could even stand. His whole body trembled.
Jungkook didn’t touch him. He just stared... deep into those wide, terrified eyes.
And Taehyung understood one thing clearly…He was trapped and whatever came next would not be decided by him.
“You look scared.”
Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence as he stepped even closer. Taehyung’s back hit the edge of the bed, leaving him nowhere to go. His hands shook around the vase he held up like a flimsy shield.
“Go away…” Taehyung whispered, fear twisting his voice.
Jungkook hummed, amused. “Do I ever listen?”
The mocking tone made Taehyung’s heart slam harder against his ribs.
His tears blurred his sight, but he saw Jungkook’s hand move slowly. Jungkook wrapped his fingers around Taehyung’s trembling hand, the one holding the vase. Taehyung jerked, instinctively flinching.
“Always so wild,” Jungkook said quietly, almost like a secret.
His grip tightened, forcing Taehyung’s fingers to loosen. The vase slipped right into Jungkook’s other hand. He set it aside gently, as if Taehyung had never tried to use it against him.
The very next moment, strong arms locked around Taehyung’s waist. Jungkook pulled him close, chest to chest, leaving Taehyung trapped in his hold. Taehyung struggled, small desperate pushes against a body that didn’t budge.
Tears spilled freely.
“Y-you hurt me… always…” Taehyung choked out, eyes darting toward the door, hoping someone would appear.
Jungkook leaned down, lips brushing the shell of Taehyung’s ear. His voice dropped to a whisper that felt like poison sliding into his bloodstream.
“But I saved you too.”
Taehyung’s body stiffened, breath catching painfully. His thoughts twisted into panic.
Jungkook’s fingers slowly traced down his sides, over his waist, sliding toward his hips. Taehyung’s entire body reacted, recoiling from the touch he knew too well.
“How could you forget your own husband…” Jungkook murmured, each word slow and cutting. “…and run into another man’s arms?”
Taehyung’s breath hitched. Husband... The word felt wrong and terrifying.
Jungkook explored the shape of his body as if it belonged to him.
“Don’t you remember this too? My touch?” he asked, voice calm, almost gentle. Like this was something loving. Something normal.
“L-leave me…” Taehyung whimpered, panic growing wild in his eyes.
“What if I don’t?”
Jungkook’s hand slid up to Taehyung’s jaw. His fingers tightened, forcing Taehyung to look up... straight into those dark eyes.
Their faces were so close Taehyung could barely breathe. His pulse thrashed beneath Jungkook’s fingertips like a trapped bird.
Jungkook stared at him as if the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore. As if Taehyung belonged to him.
And Taehyung realized, terrified... Jungkook was not here to talk.
He was here to reclaim what he thought was his.
The air felt too thin. Taehyung’s breath hitched as Jungkook took his hand, lifting it between them. His fingers trembled helplessly while Jungkook tilted the bruised knuckle so the ring caught a sliver of light.
“I gave you this,” Jungkook said quietly. Not gentle, not cruel. Just a reminder.
Taehyung’s eyes fixated on the metal band strangling his finger, leaving the skin swollen and red beneath. His chest tightened painfully. The ring that felt like a shackle he didn’t remember agreeing to.
Jungkook’s thumb brushed over the band once… almost like he cherished it.
"....And now I'm taking it back." Then his grip changed. Firmer. Possessive. He slid the ring off in a slow, agonizing drag. Taehyung hissed softly at the sting against his abused skin.
His finger looked even more vulnerable the moment the ring left. Naked. Hurting.
Taehyung stared, heartbeat hammering, as Jungkook held the ring in his palm for a beat… eyes sharp. Then, with a quiet rustle, he tucked it into his pocket as if locking away a secret Taehyung had no right to forget.
“Why…” Taehyung managed, voice small and broken.
Jungkook’s eyes flickered down to the bruised skin he had uncovered. His thumb dragged slowly over the mark, a twisted softness in his touch that made Taehyung shiver.
“It gave you a lot of pain,” Jungkook murmured. “So I realized something.”
His gaze lifted back to Taehyung’s, dark and disturbingly calm.
“Only I get to cause you pain.” His fingers tightened. “Only my hands.”
Taehyung’s entire body locked up. Confusion and fear tangled like sparks in his chest, racing up his throat until he could barely breathe. Jungkook held him like he owned every inch of him, grip warm and unyielding against his fragile skin.
“Don’t look so scared…” Jungkook whispered, leaning closer, his lips hovering near Taehyung’s cheek. “You were never meant to belong anywhere else.”
His tears slipped faster, silent and hot, each one a tiny surrender to terror.
Jungkook’s hand moved with a cold familiarity, tracing skin that wanted nothing more than to forget him. His fingers slid along Taehyung’s arm, down to his waist while Taehyung stared back with wide, terrified eyes, breath caught in his throat.
The older's grip kept tightening but Taehyung wrenched himself free from his grip, his pulse racing as he tried to break past him, only for Jungkook to grab his wrist and pull him back before he could escape. "Don't even try."
Then everything jerked. He shoved Taehyung, careless with the fragile body still healing. Taehyung fell backward on the bed, a small gasp of pain punching out of him as his muscles seized.
Jungkook climbed onto the mattress immediately after, boxing him in. He didn’t put his full weight down, yet the closeness itself felt suffocating. Taehyung lay there, wide-eyed, breath stuttering, fingers crushing the bed sheets like they were the only thing keeping him together.
Jungkook’s palm pressed to his waist, not gentle but possessive. His face dropped into the curve of Taehyung’s neck, breath hot, too close, too real. The sound of his heartbeat thudded against Taehyung’s skin.
“Taehyung…” His voice cracked out, low and hungry, soaked in something that made Taehyung’s body turn to ice.
That single word told a story Taehyung wished he didn’t know. A story of a man who felt entitled to him. A story of fear dressed as intimacy.
Taehyung’s breath hitched as he tried to shrink away, shoulders trembling.
“J-Jungkook…” His voice was barely a whisper, pleading for distance, for space, for anyone to walk through that door.
Jungkook didn’t move. His grip didn’t loosen.
No freedom. No escape. Only the monster from his nightmares breathing against his skin again.
Jungkook’s eyes shut as his hand searched blindly for Taehyung’s. His fingers tangled with Taehyung’s, locking tight, trapping his trembling grip against the sheets. Taehyung’s pulse fluttered wildly under Jungkook’s skin.
Warm breath hit his throat.
Then pressure.
A mouth against his skin.
Taehyung froze only for a heartbeat before panic ripped through him. His legs kicked and he twisted beneath Jungkook, desperate to scramble away, but his strength was still a fragile thing.
“S-Stop—” Taehyung gasped, voice cracking.
Jungkook didn’t release him.
“Calm down,” he muttered, tone disturbingly steady. “We’ve done this before.”
Taehyung stared at him like he had spoken another language. His throat closed, a choked whimper escaping. His memories were fractured, painful pieces, yet every instinct screamed that he needed distance. Needed space.
Needed someone to save him.
“I-I don’t want this…” Taehyung stuttered, tears gathering again, body shaking under the weight of fear.
Jungkook finally opened his eyes, and for a brief second, something sharp flickered through the darkness there. A realization that the man under him wasn’t melting into his touch.
Taehyung was terrified of him.
That recognition hung in the air like a blade.
Jungkook’s grip didn’t loosen. Though his expression changed, his hold stayed firm, a possessive tension coiling under his skin as he gazed at the boy who now looked at him like a stranger.
Jungkook’s stare turned colder.
Almost like the realization of Taehyung’s fear didn’t slow him down at all.
It fueled him.
His hand slid from Taehyung’s fingers and clamped around his jaw, forcing his head up. Taehyung gasped at the harsh grip, both hands instinctively pushing at Jungkook’s chest but Jungkook didn’t budge.
“Look at me,” he hissed, voice low and dangerous grip tightening on Taehyung's jaw.
Taehyung tried, but tears blurred everything. His jaw ached beneath Jungkook’s fingers.
“S-s-stay away…” Taehyung whimpered, breath stuttering.
Jungkook's lips curved into amusement. He tilted Taehyung’s face side to side, eyes scanning every tear, every tremble like it proved something he always believed.
“That fear,” he whispered, thumb sliding along Taehyung’s cheek where the tear tracks shimmered. “It was always meant for me.”
Taehyung felt sick.
His hands kept shaking against Jungkook’s chest, not strong enough to push him off, not strong enough to do anything. The room felt too small, too airless, as his mind spun with every memory that hurt to remember.
“It’s not fear,” Taehyung choked out, voice so thin it nearly broke. “I-I just… I just don’t want pain anymore…”
Jungkook stilled. For a moment, his jaw clenched… emotions flickering so fast. Then the darkness returned.
“You don’t get to choose that,” he said quietly. “Not with me.”
His fingers tightened on Taehyung’s jaw, firm enough to hold, not enough to bruise, his face lowering until their foreheads nearly touched.
“You made me this way,” Jungkook whispered, each word dragging across Taehyung’s chest like ice. “So now you live with me this way.”
Taehyung’s tears slid silently down as his heart hammered helplessly. He turned his face slightly
Jungkook’s lips traveled along Taehyung’s jaw with a slow, terrifying confidence. Not with affection but with
Possession.
Each move told Taehyung exactly who held power in this room.
“Next time…” Jungkook whispered, voice a heated danger against skin that went cold beneath it. His breath lingered near Taehyung’s ear. “…run into my arms when you’re scared.”
The words slithered down Taehyung’s spine.
His whole body jolted at the command, knees buckling against the mattress beneath him, lungs working desperately for air. His hand clawed at Jungkook’s wrist, but the harder he tried to pry himself free, the more Jungkook’s fingers closed around him, immovable.
“You’re the reason I’m scared of everything…” Taehyung stuttered through the tremors shaking his throat.
A single sentence cracked open every memory he wished he could erase.
He tried to lift himself away from the weight holding him down. His muscles strained. His ribs protested. Jungkook didn’t move an inch. He hovered above Taehyung like a nightmare given shape and strength.
Jungkook’s eyes lifted. A thin, dangerous smirk tugged at his mouth. Not amused but satisfied.
“If I’m the reason…” Jungkook murmured, one hand sliding up to seize Taehyung’s jaw, forcing those watery brown eyes to stay on him. “…then only I get to decide what you fear.”
His thumb swept across Taehyung’s lower lip. A gesture gentle enough to mock the panic flooding Taehyung’s chest.
“And who you run to.” he finished, his voice dropping into something that felt like a lock clicking shut.
Taehyung’s world narrowed to Jungkook’s shadow. His pulse thudded against Jungkook’s grip. Breath hitched and tripped as dread swallowed thought.
A cold realization seeped into him like poison that he could crawl. He could scream. He could run until his legs gave out.
None of it would ever take him far enough. Not from this hold.
Not from the man who kept finding him.
Not from Jeon Jungkook.
“Taehyung!”
A frantic voice came from outside the door. The elderly nurse’s knocks rattled against the wood, her tone sharp with worry.
Jungkook didn’t even flinch. He leaned down, pressing a brief, deliberate kiss to Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung’s eyes went wide, shock and disbelief freezing him in place. The motion was so casual, so certain, it made every nerve in his body scream.
Jungkook straightened slowly, adjusting the collar of his shirt as if nothing had happened. Taehyung clutched the blanket to his chest, knuckles white, trembling.
Outside, Seokjin walked toward the door, holding a file in his hands. His brow furrowed as he noticed the nurse hovering, her face pale, hands shaking.
“What happened?” he asked sharply.
“he isn’t opening the door, Mr. Kim,” the nurse said, panic rising in her voice.
Seokjin’s grip tightened around the file.
His eyes flicked toward the guards standing nearby. “Open it. Break it if you have to,” he barked.
The guards moved immediately, their boots thudding against the floor as they shoved against the door with full force. The old wooden frame groaned and splintered under the impact. With a loud crash, the door swung open, falling to the side with a heavy thud.
The nurse hesitated, unsure whether to step forward or flee. Jungkook’s voice cut through the tension, calm and commanding. “Check on him,” he said without looking at anyone.
Then, as if the chaos outside the door didn’t exist, he strode past Seokjin and the stunned guards, leaving a wide-eyed Seokjin staring at Taehyung, who seemed frozen in a limbo of terror, jaw clenched, pupils wide.
Seokjin’s hands shook slightly, but he forced himself to move, stepping forward, heart hammering.
He could see the fear, the vulnerability.
.. the aftermath of whatever Jungkook had done.
Taehyung wasn’t just unconscious. His body had tightened, his muscles rigid, his mind trapped somewhere between panic and relief, frozen from the recent encounter.
Seokjin swallowed hard and walked after Jungkook, each step heavy with determination. The silence left behind in the room was deafening, broken only by Taehyung’s shallow, uneven breaths and the faint rustle of the blanket beneath his trembling hands.
.
.
.
Jungkook.”
The word echoed like a warning.
The CEO froze mid-step, body rigid, and slowly turned to see Seokjin striding toward him, every motion charged with fury. His eyes, dark and sharp, fixed on Jungkook like daggers.
Before Jungkook could react, Seokjin had closed the distance. His hands shot out and grabbed Jungkook by the collar. The impact rattled the frames on the wall beside them.
The guards flinched, hands twitching toward their weapons. Guns drawn, they surrounded the men like a cage. But Jungkook’s raised finger slowly stopped them mid-motion. Silence fell, tense and dangerous.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, voice low, calm, but carrying the weight of a storm.
“What the fck did you do to Taehyung?!” Seokjin roared, chest heaving, his voice a mixture of fear, rage, and disbelief.
Jungkook let out a soft, almost bored sigh. “I did nothing. I just made him get used to me again.”
“Used to you?!” Seokjin’s voice cracked like broken glass. “Do you even realize what kind of fragile, broken state he’s in right now? He just got out of the hospital yesterda... yesterday Jungkook! And you think it’s acceptable to show up like this?! For yourself on him??”
Jungkook’s eyes stayed cold, steady.
“I didn’t force him. I’ve always been like this with him,” he said simply, as if stating a fact no one could argue.
“And that’s exactly why he’s terrified of you!” Seokjin spat, his hands gripping Jungkook’s collar tighter, knuckles white. “All these months, every single thing you did… you’ve always been like this!”
The movement made Jungkook tilt his head slightly, almost curious, almost amused.
“You can never change, can you?” Seokjin’s voice shook, but he held steady, voice low and cutting. “Even when the only person your heart beats for is on the verge of dying, you still stand there, pride held too high, ego unbreakable. Do you even feel? Can you even understand fear?”
Jungkook glanced at his watch almost as if Seokjin's words were wasting his time.
"But then.." Seokjin leaned closer, eyes throwing daggers into Jungkook's. His voice dropped, venom thickened with pain.
“…what can I expect from a man who killed his own mother? What can I even expect from a man who snatched a father of a child?”
Time froze. The air grew heavier. Jungkook’s pupils flickered... a brief, raw flash of something unspoken. Fear? Regret? Anger? A combination too dangerous to name.
Seokjin pressed harder. “A boy who could kill his own mother can grow into a man capable of killing his partner too. A man who can kill a newborn’s father… has no humanity.”
The words hung, suffocating, a noose tightening around the room.
Jungkook’s hand twitched at his side, fists clenching. His body shifted imperceptibly, tense and taut, as if waiting to strike yet he didn’t.
Seokjin’s glare didn’t waver. He took a slow breath, voice dropping almost to a whisper, though the weight behind it was suffocating: “And that… is why I can never trust you with Taehyung. Not with anyone.”
Jungkook stared.
“Because you’re a psychopath.” Seokjin finished, each word a blade.
Jungkook didn’t react. He stood there, absorbing everything, letting the weight of Seokjin’s words press against him. The tension in the room felt suffocating, every heartbeat amplified. A sharp exhale escaped him, deliberate and heavy, cutting through the silence.
“They deserved it.”
The words were cold, detached, but the undercurrent of pain in them was undeniable. That was all he said. No further explanation. No defense. Just those few syllables, carrying the weight of guilt, anger, and an unspoken truth he refused to share.
Then, without another glance, he turned and left.
Seokjin stayed rooted in the space Jungkook had just occupied, his chest tight, shoulders slumping. His eyes softened involuntarily, haunted by the hollow intensity Jungkook carried.
How could he have said that to Jungkook? How could he have let it slip through his lips when the younger’s heart was already moving on the edge of darkness? The question gnawed at Seokjin relentlessly.
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly, trying to shake the helplessness that had settled over him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his palm over his face in a futile attempt to wipe away the heaviness pressing against his chest.
Alone now, he whispered, almost inaudibly, to no one in particular, “I’m sorry.”
The words hung in the room, fragile and small, swallowed immediately by the silence. But they were real, a confession.
Seokjin’s gaze lingered at the door where Jungkook had disappeared, shadows pooling on the floor like spilled ink. He could feel the distance growing, and with it, the enormity of what had just happened.
Every step Jungkook took away from him, away from Taehyung, felt like another heartbeat in a battle that none of them were ready to fight.
And in that quiet, heavy moment, Seokjin understood... there was no easy solution. No words to fix what had already been broken. Only patience, vigilance, and the hope that somehow, some way, they could survive the storm Jungkook carried with him.