The Selection

Chapter 63

This story/plot belongs to Kiera Cass

𒊹︎︎︎ᴥ︎︎︎𒊹︎︎︎

It was only a few hours later when Taehyung knocked on my door. My maids merely curtsied and exited, knowing without instruction that whatever we would say needed to be private.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad," I said. "My arm throbs a bit and I have a headache, but otherwise I'm fine."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have let you go."

I patted the space beside me on the bed. "Come sit."

He hesitated a bit. In my mind now, he was past suspicion. Jungkook and my maids knew we communicated, and he'd led us out of the palace last night. Where was the risk? He must have thought the same thing, because he finally sat¸ choosing to keep a respectable distance just in case.

"I'm a part of this, Taehyung. I couldn't have stayed behind. And there's nothing wrong with me. I honestly owe that to you. You saved me last night."

"If I hadn't been fast enough, or if Jungkook hadn't gotten you over that wall, you'd be a prisoner somewhere right now. I almost let you die. I almost let Jungkook die." He shook his head at the floor. "Do you know what would have happened to Avery and me if you two hadn't made it back? Do you know what—" He paused, seeming to hold back tears. "Do you know what would have happened to me if we hadn't found you?"

Taehyung looked at me, into me. The pain in his eyes was clear.

"But you did. You found me, you protected me, and you got me help. You were amazing." I put my hand on Taehyung's back, running it up and down, trying to comfort him.

"I'm just realizing, Y/n, that no matter what happens . . . there will always be a string tying you to me. I'll never not worry about you. I'll never not care about what you do. You'll always be something to me."

I took my hand and laced it through his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. "I know what you mean."

We stayed like that for a while, and I guessed that maybe Taehyung was doing the same thing I was: replaying everything in his head. The way we avoided each other as children, the way we couldn't stop looking at each other when we were older, a thousand stolen moments in the tree house—all the things that made us who we were.

"Y/n, I need to say something." I lifted my head, and Taehyung turned to face me, holding me gently by my arms. "When I told you that I would always love you, I meant it. And I . . . I . . ."

He couldn't manage to get the words out, and to be honest, I was grateful. Yes, I was tied to him, but we weren't that couple in the tree house anymore.

He gave a weak laugh. "I guess I need some sleep. I can't think straight."

"You and me both. And there's so much to think about."

He nodded. "Look, Y/n, we can't do that again. Don't tell Jungkook I'll help him with something so risky, and don't expect me to sneak you anywhere."

"I'm not sure it was worth it anyway. I can't imagine Jungkook would want to go again."

"Good." He stood, then picked up my hand and kissed it. "My lady," he said, his voice teasing.

I smiled and squeezed his hand a little. And he did the same back. As we held hands, my grip tightening more every second, I realized that soon I'd need to let go. I'd need to really let go.

I looked into Taehyung's eyes, and I could feel the tears threatening to come. How do I say good-bye to you?

He ran his thumb over the back of my hand and placed it on my lap. He bent and kissed my hair. "Take it easy. I'll come check on you tomorrow."