𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙍. | k.th ✓

20 | sew your heart

Present

I flutter my eyes open, feeling my cheeks wet. I gasp softly as I position my finger in front of me. It's a tear. A teardrop from my eye. But that isn't all.

It's raining.

The salty tears from my eyes mixed up with the fresh rain that continuously pelt down on me. My clothes are soaked, along with my hair.

Everything in me is soaked. Broken. Empty.

My gaze solely focused on my finger, I don't notice the rain suddenly stopping to fall on me, though I can still hear the loud crashing of it on the ground.

I don't notice the figure standing before me.

But when I did, I look up to see Taehyung in front of me, an umbrella in his hand, shielding me and him from the harsh rain.

His face isn't bright and pleasant unlike the day I went to his studio for the first time. There are bags under his eyes, and his hair is in a disheveled state, slightly wet from the rain. His outfit is a complete contrast to the ones he wears every time he goes to his atelier.

He has been crying, seeing his puffy red eyes and swollen lower eyelids. He has been suffering himself too and I never seemed to care.

I remind so much of that girl in that siren story my father told me. The only difference is I don't cling too much nor get too attached, afraid of getting hurt in the end.

"What are you doing here?" My voice came out in a hoarse whisper though it's loud enough for Taehyung to hear.

Silence.

"I happen to be passing by here," he replies in a soft voice. "And I saw you soaking yourself in the rain."

Silence follows afterwards once again. The silence can't be categorized into either a comfortable one or an awkward one. Though, the silence is so thick between them, the hard pelting of the rain is loud enough for us not to notice the loud silence.

Taehyung decides to make his first move. He gently places his hand on my arm, urging me to stand up from the soaked bench. Realizing that I have no energy left to fight him, I comply.

Due to the slippery wet of the ground, I slip but fortunately, Taehyung steadies me in time effortlessly.

I clear my throat, avoiding his eyes as I push myself away from him, dusting away my soaked dress.

"My place is nearer than yours. Is it alright if we go there? You're really wet so you need to dry yourself so that you won't catch a cold." His soft voice is so gentle and sweet that I almost forgot that he was behind the death of my father.

No.

"Yes," I reply instinctively.

Swallowing the huge lump in my throat, Taehyung's hand found mine and intertwines our hands as we begin walking. He hails a cab for us, his hand leaving mine, the warmth soon dissipating.

I sit on the the end of the backseat, while he occupies the other end. I avoid his eyes, opting to look outside the moist window instead, admiring the view whilst watching a droplet of water fall down and trickle on the glass.

I feel my heart beating in a faster pace as we near to his place.

For some reason, I'm not afraid of this man. Despite of obtaining the knowledge of him being involved in my father's death, something is telling my mind that he isn't a bad guy.

🍸

I shudder as I stand awkwardly in front of the door of his house. Even though we are both sheltered already, it's very cold perhaps because of the sound of rain outside.

Inspecting my nail-polished nails, Taehyung's footsteps pad across the floor until they become distant. A few minutes later, he comes back, catching my attention and making me look up at him.

"Wash up first. I've prepared some spare clothes for you to use," he tells me softly.

When I don't reply, he takes few steps, slowly closing the distance between us. I tilt my head up to be able to meet his attractive orbs as he tuck strands of my wet hair behind my ear.

"Let me sew your heart, Haneul," he whispers, sending a series chills in my spine. "I want to make it up to you. I refuse to be a bad guy in your eyes, Haneul."

I nod as he wipes a tear away from my rosy cheek.