73
Third Person Pov
The rain was drizzling outside, soft and cold against the windows, the kind that carried silence heavier than sound. The air smelled faintly of earth, of endings.
“Thank you,” Taehyung said softly, his voice hoarse and cracked, as if the words had been scraped from the bottom of his throat.
His eyes were dull, lifeless... the kind of eyes that had seen too much and felt everything all at once. He took the keys from the old landlady’s trembling hand. She looked at him with concern, her brows furrowing as her gaze fell on the child clinging to his side.
“Are you okay, son?” she asked gently. Her tone carried the weight of someone who had seen grief before.
Taehyung swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the ground. Gyubin leaned into him, eyes half-lidded, fighting sleep. The boy’s little fingers clutched Taehyung’s shirt while the small cat in Taehyung’s arm slept soundly, exhausted from hours of searching for a place to stay.
The landlady hesitated for a second, then sighed and reached for a small box. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “Feed your kid and yourself. I’ll send my grandson with some milk late... for the cat too.”
For the first time that day, Taehyung’s eyes softened. The kindness--so simple, so unexpected stung more than cruelty ever could. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice barely audible as he accepted the box with both hands.
“It’s alright,” she said with a tired smile. “Take care of yourself.”
He watched as she walked away, her umbrella vanishing into the misty rain.
The street fell quiet again, only the rhythmic patter of water remained.
Taehyung stood there for a moment, unmoving, his chest tightening with every breath before he finally sighed.
. a shaky, broken sound and turned the key.
Inside, the air was still.
Gyubin tugged at his hem, sleepy and clingy.
Taehyung pushed the small luggage inside and locked the door behind him.
The place was small but cozy.... the kind of home that might hold warmth one day, if he could allow himself to feel it.
He guided Gyubin to the couch, laying him down gently.
The boy curled up instantly, clutching his little bunny plushie.
Daisy stretched beside him, mewing once before curling into a ball of fur and falling asleep.
Taehyung looked around the room... the plain curtains, the soft couch, the faint hum of the fridge. It was simple… peaceful. Something he hadn’t known in a long time.
He walked into the kitchen, found a bottle in his bag, and filled it with water. The cool liquid burned down his throat as he drank, the ache in his chest growing heavier.
When he returned, he didn’t even bother opening the food box. It sat untouched on the table.
He sank into the couch, his body melting into the cushions, eyes fixed on the ceiling... blank, tired, gone. The silence grew thicker, and before he could stop it… tears began to fall.
No sobs, no sound... just tears.
Hot, relentless, falling one after another, until the room felt smaller and the air too heavy to breathe.
For the first time that night, Taehyung allowed himself to break quietly, unseen as the rain outside kept whispering against the window.
Taehyung’s fingers dug into the fabric of the couch as his body trembled, his breath uneven and ragged. The sound of the rain outside only made it worse each drop echoing the weight inside his chest. His lips quivered, a choked sob escaping before he could stop it.
“I… I love him…” he whispered, voice breaking mid-sentence. The words slipped out like a confession to the walls raw, desperate, aching. His throat tightened as more tears spilled down his cheeks, hot and fast.
“I love him so much…”
His chest rose and fell violently as he pressed a trembling hand over his heart, as though trying to physically hold it together but it kept breaking, again and again. He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenching.
“Why… why do I love him?” he muttered, voice cracking into a whisper, half anger, half despair. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms until they hurt. “Out of everyone… him?”
He bit his lower lip hard enough to taste blood, his breath shaking as the truth spilled out between clenched teeth.
It wasn’t just his own heartbreak that hurt... it was Jungkook’s too. He could feel it, deep in his bones, the weight of Jungkook’s silence, the emptiness in his eyes before they parted. The same hollowness now mirrored in his own.
“J-Jungkook…” he breathed, the name trembling out of him like a curse and a prayer all at once. “the–the one person I should’ve hated the m-most.”
His laugh came out broken, bitter, hollow. “But I didn’t,” he whispered to himself. “I fell anyway. I just... fell... and now I can’t even breathe without feeling him in every beat of my–my heart.”
The rain kept drizzling outside, soft but relentles, much like the ache in his chest. And Taehyung just lied there, eyes red and glassy, the words replaying in his head like a punishment he could never escape: “I love him…"
Then silence for like an hour... as Taehyung stared at nothing until....
The doorbell’s faint chime startled Taehyung out of his daze.
He quickly wiped his tears with the back of his hand, trying to steady his breathing.
The kitten stirred at the sudden sound, letting out a small, sleepy mewl as Taehyung forced himself up from the couch, his body still heavy from crying.
He walked toward the door, his steps slow and quiet. When he opened it, he blinked in surprise.
A boy... around ten stood in front of him, looking up with gentle eyes and a shy smile. In one hand, he clutched the metal support tools that helped him stand, his small frame slightly tilted from the effort. The other hand held out a bowl, and inside it rested a packet of milk.
Taehyung’s heart softened immediately. He took the bowl carefully. “Thank you…” he said, voice still hoarse from all the crying.
The boy’s smile widened. “My name is Jiwoo,” he said brightly, his tone polite yet full of innocence.
Taehyung’s lips curved faintly, the first hint of a real smile since the day began. “Beautiful name,” he murmured, reaching out to gently run his fingers through Jiwoo’s hair. The boy giggled softly at the gesture.
“Would you like to come inside?” Taehyung asked, his voice tender, almost protective.
Jiwoo shook his head, his grip tightening on his support handles. “I’ll come tomorrow, hyung,” he said sweetly. “I have to do my homework now.”
Taehyung smiled lightly, though the warmth in his chest ached. “Alright then. Be careful, okay?”
Jiwoo nodded and turned around slowly, taking careful, practiced steps down the corridor.
Taehyung stood there for a moment, watching him.
..the way the boy’s small frame wobbled slightly with each movement, how his determination seemed to outweigh his struggle.
Something inside Taehyung cracked quietly, an ache of empathy and tenderness spreading through him.
When Jiwoo finally disappeared from sight, Taehyung closed the door gently.
Daisy, the little kitten, sat on the couch staring at him with wide eyes, as if waiting. Taehyung smiled faintly and crouched down, pouring the milk into the bowl. “Here you go, Daisy…” he whispered.
The kitten immediately began to lap at the milk, her tiny tongue making faint slurping sounds. She must’ve been starving. Taehyung’s chest tightened as he watched her.... the way she hungrily drank without pause, her small body trembling slightly from exhaustion.
“You must’ve been hungry too, huh?” he murmured, a faint, sad smile on his face. “Guess I’m not the only one trying to survive.”
He sat on the ground, watching the kitten drink. The soft sound of rain filled the silence again gentle, melancholic and for a fleeting second, Taehyung felt something fragile inside him heal, even if only a little.
Taehyung rose slowly, his legs still a little unsteady. He wiped his face once more and carried the box of food to the refrigerator, placing it neatly inside.
The soft click of the fridge door closing echoed in the quiet house. By the time he turned around, Daisy had already finished her milk, licking the last drops from the bowl with her tiny pink tongue.
“Good girl,” Taehyung whispered, scooping her up gently and laying her down on the couch. The kitten curled instantly, purring faintly as she drifted off.
Then Taehyung turned toward the real task... Gyubin.
He knelt beside the sleeping kid and slid an arm under him, then another. Gyubin was short yes, but every breath Taehyung took trembled with the effort.
His body still felt weak, drained from heartbreak and crying, but he gathered himself as he lifted the kid carefully into his arms. Gyubin’s fist curled into Taehyung’s shirt, his lips parting in a soft whimper that nearly shattered Taehyung again.
“It’s okay Binnie,” Taehyung whispered, holding him close as he walked toward the bedroom.
The old grandmother had somehow kept the house in beautiful condition. The bed was made neatly; clean sheets tucked in with care, a faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.
Taehyung laid Gyubin down softly, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. He reached for the blanket he always kept in his luggage, after they ahd first moved out.... and draped it over him.
Taehyung swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he fixed Gyubin’s beanie, pulling it gently over his ears. His fingers lingered there for a moment.
And then the trembling breath came. One he tried to hide, tried to swallow, tried to pretend wasn’t happening.
His vision blurred.
Because he remembered.
Gyubin’s cries…
His shaking little hands…
The way he cried “Dadda…” between sobs, Reaching for Jungkook.
Taehyung’s chest caved in. Gyubin didn’t understand. He just wanted a family. He just wanted the person he thought was his father.
“Oh, Baby…” Taehyung whispered shakily, brushing Gyubin’s cheek with trembling fingers. “I hate it when you cry… I hate it so much…”
He blinked hard, tears slipping down again not just for his own heartbreak, but Gyubin’s too.
Because no kid deserved to cry for someone who wouldn’t come.
.
.
.
The mansion remained swallowed in a kind of darkness that felt intentional, almost ceremonial. Jungkook hadn’t allowed a single light to be switched on.
The staff had been dismissed, the guards ordered to clear the halls until every echoing footstep disappeared. What was left behind was a vast, quiet palace where even the air felt heavy, suffocating, and cold.
Only the faint glow of the enormous shark tank illuminated the space, casting shifting ripples of blue across the walls and across Jungkook’s exhausted face.
He sat on the marble floor, legs half-bent, shoulder blades pressed against the wall as though he needed it to hold him up.
His shirt hung open at the top, the undone buttons exposing the hard rise and fall of his chest. His hair was disheveled, strands sticking to his forehead from the combination of alcohol and stress.
He gripped a nearly empty liquor bottle in one hand, the third he had opened tonight, swallowing in long, dull pulls that barely burned anymore. The taste didn’t matter; he only needed the numbness creeping in slow waves through his veins.
His eyes, bloodshot and droopy than usual, stayed fixed on the sharks gliding through the water with calm, deadly precision. They moved as if they owned the world—powerful, unbothered, impossible to control.
Jungkook watched their movements like a man trying to anchor himself to something steady, something predictable, because everything inside him felt like it was splitting open.
Taehyung’s voice kept echoing in the back of his mind, soft yet sharp enough to bruise.
If you love me… you would let me go.
The words hit him again, and his jaw flexed, the muscles twitching as he gripped the bottle tighter. The glass groaned under the pressure of his fingers. Jungkook was not a man accustomed to being told no. He wasn’t a man who let anything go... not deals, not power, not people he wanted.
If he had decided to bring Taehyung back, he could have done it. His men would have found him in minutes. He could have dragged him home, locked every door, thrown away the keys, and the world would have kept spinning because Jeon Jungkook always got what he wanted.
But tonight… he hadn’t.
Tonight, something inside him refused to move.
It wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t defeat. It was a strange, suffocating kind of clarity that made his chest feel too tight to breathe.
He pictured Taehyung’s expression... the way his eyes had looked hollow, the way his voice had trembled with exhaustion and hurt, the way he had pulled Gyubin close like he needed to protect both of them from Jungkook.
And for the first time, Jungkook felt something unfamiliar and unwelcome coil through him.
Because if he went after Taehyung now, if he showed up at that door, if he tried to force him back, Taehyung wouldn’t look relieved. He wouldn’t melt into his arms. He wouldn’t even argue. He would look at Jungkook like he was the last person on earth he wanted to see.
He would stare at him with fear, irritation, frustration, betrayal... emotions Jungkook had never cared about before but suddenly couldn’t stomach inflicting.
He leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the rippling light on the ceiling, and felt something tighten painfully in his throat. It was humiliating to acknowledge that someone else’s emotions... Taehyung’s emotions—actually mattered now.
They mattered so much that Jungkook couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe without feeling it scrape against the inside of his ribs.
He exhaled shakily, the breath breaking halfway through, and then He just stared at the sharks moving through the water, steady and unbothered, while he sat there unraveling quietly in the dark.
For the first time in his life, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t haunted by what he wanted. He was haunted by the realization that the one person he wanted back… might never want him again.
.
.
.
Morning arrived quietly, slipping into the small house without Taehyung even noticing. He only realized the night had ended when the faint chirping of birds reached him... soft, persistent, almost too gentle for the heaviness sitting on his chest.
He exhaled, a slow, hollow breath, and only then became aware that he was still sitting on the same spot on the couch, staring blankly at the floorboards as if they held answers.
He hadn’t slept. His body had tried, but his mind never shut off.
So he’d spent the hours drifting from one corner of the house to another, reorganizing things that were already neat, scrubbing spots that weren’t dirty, opening cabinets only to close them again.
Anything to keep himself moving. Anything to keep his thoughts from circling back to the mansion…
to Jungkook’s empty eyes… to Gyubin’s sobs.
The morning light filtered in gently through the curtains, casting a pale glow on the room. Taehyung lifted his gaze toward the window, then toward the clock hanging slightly crooked above the doorway.
7:03 a.m.
A new day. Though it felt like nothing had changed.
He pushed himself up from the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
They stung.. heavy, swollen from the tears he had pretended not to shed.
He dragged his feet toward the small bathroom and flipped on the light.
His reflection stared back at him: hair messy, eyes dark, face pale with exhaustion.
He didn’t look like someone who had escaped. He looked like someone who was still bleeding from yesterday.
Without thinking, he cupped his hands under the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.
The shock grounded him, a brief moment where the ache eased.
He grabbed the towel, patting his skin dry before he leaned forward again, studying the man in front of him.
No answers. No comfort. Just a tired heart and the weight of last night hanging over him like wet cloth.
He stepped out quietly and glanced at the bedroom.
Gyubin was still asleep, curled into himself, his small fingers gripping the blanket Taehyung had tucked around him.
His chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths, his cheeks still slightly blotchy from all the crying. Taehyung’s heart twisted painfully.
Gyubin wouldn’t wake for two more hours... maybe three. He was always a deep sleeper after crying that hard.
Taehyung opened his bag, searching through the folded clothes until he pulled out a soft beige cardigan. He slipped it on, the fabric warm around his chilled arms. His body felt light from lack of sleep, movements slower than usual, but he forced himself to stay steady.
They needed groceries. Milk, rice, some fruit for Gyubin, something mild in case the kitten was hungry again.
Something to do. Something to focus on.
He grabbed his phone, checked the time once more, and then slipped on his shoes. Before leaving, he walked to the bedroom door and looked at Gyubin again, eyes lingering.
Still asleep. Still curled up with the cat beside him.
Taehyung exhaled quietly, turned away, and stepped outside into the soft morning air, hoping just for a moment that the fresh breeze would lighten the weight he carried.
He walked along the quiet road, his steps slow, the morning air cool against his face. The whole neighborhood still felt asleep.... curtains drawn, no engines humming, no footsteps rushing anywhere. It was the weekend, after all. The world was resting. Everyone except him.
He kept moving, hands tucked into the pockets of his cardigan, eyes drifting over the still street. The silence felt both comforting and suffocating, like it understood exactly what he was running from but offered no escape.
As he turned the corner, he noticed a small figure under the bus stop. A boy maybe seven or eight standing with one knee propped up on the metal bench, struggling clumsily with his shoelaces. He kept bending forward, fingers slipping, frustration written all over his tiny face.
Taehyung’s footsteps slowed. His heart softened instantly.
He walked toward him, voice gentle. “Hey… want some help with that?”
The boy looked up, startled, then shyly nodded. Taehyung offered a faint smile warm, but tired around the edges before crouching down. He reached for the loose laces and tied them neatly, double-knotting them with practiced ease.
“There,” he murmured, straightening the loops. “Where are you headed this early?”
The boy beamed. “Badminton training, hyung.”
Taehyung hummed, standing back up. “That’s impressive.”
The boy bowed politely and slung his small backpack over his shoulder before running toward the arriving bus.
Taehyung watched until he got on safely. Only then did he turn to continue his walk completely unaware of the pair of wide, terrified eyes peeking from behind the brick wall across the street.
The figure stayed hidden, barely breathing, gaze locked on Taehyung’s back as he walked away. Their grip tightened on the wall’s edge, knuckles white, chest rising and falling like panic lived there.
And still… they followed him. The eyes silent, shaken tracked every step he took down the empty road.
Unseen. Unnoticed.
But there.
They were the eyes of a woman on the edge of collapse.
.. red, swollen, glistening with terror.
Her arms were wrapped protectively around a tiny baby girl, no more than a year old, who wailed helplessly into her chest. The woman’s breaths came in short, broken bursts, her whole body trembling as she tried to rock the child quiet.
But the baby could feel her mother’s shaking. And fear travels.
She pressed her lips to the child’s forehead, whispering something like a prayer then jerked her head up, eyes darting in every direction. She had no time. No shelter. No safe corner left in the world.
And the footsteps she feared were getting closer.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Then she ran.
Not with the grace of someone prepared
but with the stumbling urgency of a mother running for her child’s life.
Taehyung walked a few steps ahead, lost in his thoughts, the chilly morning breeze brushing his cardigan. He had no idea that the calm street behind him was about to erupt into chaos.
Until he heard fast, stumbling feet.
Too close.
He turned just in time to see a terrified woman rushing straight at him.
He froze. She crashed to a stop in front of him, nearly collapsing, and Taehyung had to steady her by the shoulders to keep her from falling.
Her face was streaked with tears and grime, eyes wild with a fear he had never seen before. The baby in her arms cried louder, tiny fists hitting her mother’s chest.
Taehyung’s heart jumped into his throat.
“I—” she tried to speak but her voice cracked. She swallowed, tried again.
“Please… please help me…”
Taehyung blinked, panic rising in his chest. “ what—what happened?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked back over her shoulder as if expecting someone to jump out from the shadows. Her whole body jolted with every passing sound.
Then she turned back to him and shoved the baby forward.
Not gently... desperately.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice shattering, “save my child. Please…”
Taehyung stared at the baby, then at her. “W-wait—what are you doing? What’s going on—”
“They’ll kill us,” she breathed, words tumbling out in broken fragments. “They’ll take her first. Please—please take her—save her—”
“Who will—?”
“I—I took a loan… and I couldn’t pay it back. They’re looking for me. They said they would sell my baby. Sell her.” she cried out helplessly “Please… I’m begging you… please… they’ll find me, they’ll take her, and I can’t—”
She sobbed violently, clutching the baby until her knuckles turned white. Then, as if forcing herself to physically let go, she extended her arms again.
Taehyung hesitated only one second before he took the baby girl, hands trembling. The little one instantly burrowed into his chest, crying in exhausted, frightened hiccups.
He looked around the empty street, panic spiking.
“You should go to the police,” he whispered urgently. “They can help—”
“No!” she cut him off, shaking her head frantically.
“The police won’t help! They’re paid. They’ll hand us over.
Please… please don’t go to them.” She pressed her palms together in a pleading bow.
“I’ll die if I must—but she is innocent.
Don’t let them take her. Don’t let them touch her.
They’ll do horrible things—I can’t—” Her voice collapsed into sobs. "Just don't–don't go to them."
She clasped her shaking hands together and bowed her head, the gesture more desperate than respectful.
“I don’t care what happens to me,” she whispered, voice cracking painfully. “But don’t let them touch my daughter… please… she’s innocent…”
Taehyung’s chest tightened painfully. He felt the baby’s warm tears soak through his shirt.
The woman’s breath suddenly hitched.
Her face drained of color.
A low engine hum echoed from the street behind her... too close, too slow.
She looked toward the sound, panic flooding her expression.
Taehyung followed her gaze. A car turned the corner, creeping down the road with calculated, predatory speed.
Her lips trembled.
“She’s yours now,” the woman whispered, stepping backward. “Her life… her safety… please take care of her…”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “how can y-you trust me with something like this?”
“I…” She looked at the baby one last time, her entire soul pouring through her eyes. “I don’t have a choice. She doesn’t have one either.”
She leaned forward and kissed her daughter’s forehead, her tears falling onto the little girl’s soft skin.
“Mamma is sorry, my baby…” she whispered, voice breaking so painfully Taehyung felt it in his bones. “Mamma loves you so much…”
And then she forced herself to turn around.
And she ran.
Ran with the speed of someone who knew she would die if she stopped.
Taehyung stared after her, shocked, terrified, the baby clinging to him as if he were suddenly her only anchor. The car slowed near them, engine rumbling like a warning.
His instincts roared awake.
He pressed the little girl against his chest protectively, wrapping the cardigan around her tiny body, and slipped into the narrow alley behind the bus stop.
“Shhh…” he whispered, trying to steady his own racing heartbeat. “Shhh, sweetheart… it’s okay… I’ve got you…”
Her sobs softened into hiccups as she buried her face in his shoulder.
Taehyung held her tighter, breath shaking and all he could think was:
His life had already shattered once last night.
And now, within hours…it had changed again. In a way he could never undo.