P O I S O N || VKOOK

::SEVEN::

0.7: The Kidnapperŕ (and a Bully)

A deep rooted fear clogs into Taehyung's system like unmanageable pores.

It is almost funny how the cold wet muzzle of powerful weapons do not chafe it- his skin like this sudden realization of proximity does.

It is wild, a bloody wild feeling—Jeongguk's riled up exhales are an irregular pattern of chimney smokes burning sore on the sweat of his school shirt, his sharp snarl is pressed firm on the back column of his scratched throat.

It has turned grey, Taehyung's formal white shirt; it shows well in a morbid fascination, conveniently matching up with his colorless grey face.

Oh uh—

Fuck.

"I asked how the fuck DO you KNOW, Kid."

Shit.

"Ask YOUR moronic minions AND maybe just maybe then YOU might fucking understand instead of kidnapping and bullying high school kids for fun AND DALLIANCE!"

Shit—fuck.

Is screaming at your potentially dangerous kidnapper when he has the power to potentially annihilate your existence while you got to save the person whom you love the most in this fucking world is too in their captivity a good deal? Hypothetically speaking—

Shittily Shit and a bleeding fuck.

The whole room smells of internal bodily combustion and leathery fumes and Jeongguk's sudden silences do not really indicate something cheery like 'The dawn of a new day' or any other flowery optimistic shit.

"You think you are so bloody smart, do you not Kid?"

His statement is followed by another slow but a hard tug at his collar and Taehyung feels the linen ripping at the stitches even before he sees the torn fabric.

However Taehyung does not get to mourn his shirt, his one and only uniform shirt cause Jeongguk is working fast; he is fast, falling and forcing Taehyung to fall into a twisted form of suffocating waltz across the desk.

His hands are wounded around Taehyung's neck in an effectively numbing chokehold while he reuses his body weight to move both of them through the not so small length of the spacious room.

Well it is a kind of manhandling really, too fast and way too strong for Taehyung and his dizzy brain.

"Let me show you what this 'Bully' did." Jeongguk mumbles quite chirpily, mouth on the shell of Taehyung's ear.

Taehyung is practically shoved onto the leather bound, knees buckling when he hits the dark leathery arch of the tight cushions.

It feels... so meaty.

And Taehyung has almost sat on his plated palms.

And newsflash it hurts like a bitch.

Whoa—

Have his hands been hurting so fucking badly from the beginning?

"I am sure if you are that good then you can read it on your own?" Jeongguk slaps a piece of plastic folder file right on top of his scattered paper works, a wisp of sound against the hard wood.

Taehyung is confused. "What in the living HELL is this?" But then again years of playing around with the art of masking emotions never really gave him any kind of disadvantage; if not absolutely working in his favor.