𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙍. | k.th ✓

21 | broken bottle

Taehyung's clothes are warm and cozy as they envelope my body in a comfortable manner, as if it's his arms embracing me in a warm hug. It's my first time wearing other people's clothes and I realize how such clothes are more comfortable than my own whole wardrobe.

It tempts me to sell every piece of clothing and buy new sets of hoodies, t-shirts, sweatpants, and pajamas.

I take a deep breath first, my hand hovering over the knob, before I twist it open and take a peek outside in the hallway. It's empty and dark but at the end of the hallway, I see an orange hue illuminating the whole room, with a shadow of a body. Taehyung's shadow. Crackling sounds resonates until my spot and I slowly and carefully exit the bathroom, closing the door soundlessly.

I take small footsteps with my bare feet until I reach the living room. Kim Taehyung is now adorned with a knitted sweatshirt, his locks messy in a good way. He prepared two cups of coffee and places them on top of the coffee table just before the fireplace.

He's such a god.

I shake my thoughts away and clear my throat, catching his attention.

He turns around to face me, a new look in it. Suddenly, his cheeks turns a hue of pink as he trails his eyes from head to toe.

However, I try to be unfazed, attempting to catch his attention one more time so that his eyes are on mine.

"So you offered us to go straight to your house, so that you can have me all alone, didn't you?" I eye him with suspicion. "Not in that way, of course," I immediately add upon seeing his eyes going dark and hooded.

I'm pretty sure my cheeks are as red as a rose. I dismiss it immediately. "What do you want?" I cross my arms.

"I want you to hear me out," he says.

I'm not mad at Kim Taehyung, but I'm still upset. I'm leaving it up to you, Haneul.

It's up to you now if you'll forgive him or hate him forever.

I inhale sharply, fluttering my eyes before responding. "Okay. Let's hear you out."

12 years ago...

Young me was busy exploring and playing around the harmless forest. Lately, I have been spending almost every single day in the forest to escape the deadly boredom I felt in our mansion.

But that was also the day I began to fear the forest.

It was a day like any other, me sneaking out of my room and running straight towards the forest, using the gigantic tall trees to hinder myself.

I was enjoying the time of my life. Nothing was going wrong at the moment. I walked my way deeper into the forest until I stumbled upon the same atelier that I've been sneaking in to for almost a year now. How my father hadn't still noticed me yet? I don't know how.

Whenever I came there, I keep myself hidden under the same table I hid in when I first entered there. The boy, who piqued my curiosity was still there.

However, there was an addition to the man and boy.

Another man.

He was holding a bottle of wine, as if he had just finished drinking in its contents. Young me, of course, continued to watch them from under the table.

"You stole my wife away from me," the stranger slurred. "Now, you're also taking away my son?"

A bitter laugh escaped from the man's almost black lips. I couldn't see his face that time because his back was facing me but my gaze fell on my father with the boy behind him as if he was shielding him away from the so-called father of his.

"I'm not taking away anything from you," my father stated firmly with a tone that I have never heard in my entire childhood. "You pushed everyone away so I had to step in the moment your son stepped foot inside my atelier, asking for help. And as for your wife, I assure you that I don't have any romantic interest for her. I was just trying to be a decent human being by helping her—"

"Bullshit!" The other man growled, flailing the bottle of wine in the air, making my father step away backward, his hand protecting the boy behind him. "Just admit it already. Every rich man is a greedy man! Stop spewing out bullshit lies because the last thing I would do is to believe you."

I couldn't move a limb, I felt like I was paralyzed at that time as I watched in horror, the terrorizing scene unfolding before me, staining my innocence and purity.

"Don't believe me then," my father answered smugly. "I've already explained my side, now it is up to you if you will fuck everything up."

I flinched slightly at the curse word that my father spat at the pathetic man before him.

Everything was in a fast motion then. The boy's father reached the brim of his madness, causing him to break the bottle in half, the other half sharp like a dagger dangerously approached my father and the boy.

The two stepped back instantly, my father still shielding the boy, who was now panicking with wide eyes opened, every sense in him was red alert.

Things escalated quickly.

As the man ran towards to my father with the broken bottle in his hand, the boy grabbed the nearest bottle which happened to be a centimeters away, broke it and turned back around.

"Stop!" he shouted.

I could only gape, my hands flying to my mouth.

The man had the bottle in midair, and my father took the chance to scoot away immediately.

The father's boy turned to him, a malicious look plastered on his face.

The boy fought the fear that was continuously haunting his whole being, forcing himself to face his own father.

Tears began to spill constantly from his eyes and he screamed so loud as he ran forward to attack his father, a broken bottle in his hand. He was mad. Angry because he failed to protect his mother, because he was a coward and always ran away from his father instead of facing him.

Angry because at that moment, the bottle pierced through the wrong person.

Through his blurry vision, he blinked them away as he slowly and hesitatingly looked down. His small hands were covered in blood, the blood of my own father.

I realized too late that my father didn't die because of murder.

He died protecting the boy.

He died to protect Kim Taehyung.