{BOOK TWO}...Daunted by the singular tastes and dark secrets of the beautiful, tormented young entrepreneur Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook has broken off their relationship to start a new career with a Seattle publishing house.
But desire for Taehyung...
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{ Song recommendation: Scott James- Ropes }
Jungkook P.O.V.
Taehyung on his knees at my feet, holding me with his steady hazel gaze, is the most chilling and sobering sight I have ever seen - more so than Leila and her gun.
The vague alcoholic fuzziness I'm suffering from evaporates in an instant and is replaced by a prickling scalp and a creeping sense of doom as the blood drains from my face.
I inhale sharply with shock. No. No, this is wrong, so wrong and so disturbing.
"Taehyung, please, don't do this. I don't want this."
He continues to regard me passively, not moving, saying nothing.
Oh fuck. My poor Taehyung. My heart squeezes and twists. What the hell have I done to him? Tears prick my eyes.
"Why are you doing this? Talk to me," I whisper.
He blinks once.
"What would you like me to say?" he says softly, blandly, and for a moment I'm relieved that he's talking, but not like this - no. No.
Tears begin to ooze down my cheeks, and suddenly it is too much to see him in the same prostrate position as the pathetic creature that was Leila. The image of a powerful man who's really still a little boy, who was horrifically abused and neglected, who feels unworthy of love from his perfect family and his much-less-than perfect boyfriend... my lost boy... it's heartbreaking.
Compassion, loss, and despair all swell in my heart, and I feel a choking sense of desperation. I am going to have to fight to bring him back, to bring back my Taehyung.
The thought of me dominating anyone is appalling. The thought of dominating Taehyung is nauseating. It would make me like her - the woman who did this to him.
I shudder at that thought, fighting the bile in my throat. No way can I do that. No way do I want that.
As my thoughts clear, I can see only one way. Not taking my eyes off his, I sink to my knees in front of him.
The wooden floor is hard against my shins, and I dash my tears away roughly with the back of my hand.
Like this, we are equals. We're on a level. This is the only way I'm going to retrieve him. His eyes widen fractionally as I stare up at him, but beyond that his expression and stance don't change.
"Taehyung, you don't have to do this," I plead. "I'm not going to run. I've told you and told you and told you, I won't run. All that's happened... it's overwhelming. I just need some time to think... some time to myself. Why do you always assume the worst?" My heart clenches again because I know; it's because he's so doubting, so full of self-loathing.
Elena's words come back to haunt me. "Does he know how negative you are about yourself? About all your issues?"
Oh, Taehyung. Fear grips my heart once more and I start babbling, "I was going to suggest going back to my apartment this evening. You never give me any time... time to just think things through," I sob, and a ghost of a frown crosses his face.
