Till Death Do Us Part ||Taekook||

Chapter #24 The King's Bedroom

We sat in silence for nearly fifteen minutes before I finally got the courage to drive us the remaining three minutes home. 

My hands were shaky and stiff the entirety of those three minutes. I pulled into the driveway, not even bothering to park the car. I simply left it in the gravel in front of the main entrance staircase since I'd like to think I wasn't going to be here very long.

I used the thought of my bald husband as motivation to drag him up the stairs. Upon stumbling through the door, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, his head hanging low, incoherent mumbles flowing from his mouth; maids and butlers mobbed around us like ants around a breadcrumb.

There were so many they lifted Taehyung away like he was nothing, like he was levitating.

 Multiple maids and butlers were wiping sweat dribbles from my neck and collarbone, all of them rushing me with questions. Where I was. What happened. Why I looked like the homeless man from 14th street named Jun-ji.

Mrs. Uim shoved herself through the crowd of housekeepers, using her elbows like a maniac to violently ram through everyone. 

Her elbows sunk into the guts and shoulders of dozens of people. Finally, she threw her arm out in front of her, gripping my arm and using my weight to yank herself forward. She was out of breath by the time she reached me.

"Jungkook-" She heaved. She looked around annoyed at everyone swarming like moths.

"Alright! Everyone! Please back away from the poor man! I can hardly breathe! Go back to work everyone."

A voice I wasn't used to hearing blared from Mrs. Uim's throat. The other housekeepers must have shared the same thought because in seconds everyone dispersed, each person scurrying in a different direction.

It reminded me of my trip to New York a few years ago. The way rats would flee with the horrific screams that sounded like the wail of rusty door hinges. 

My eyes locked on a series of about five people discussing how to get Taehyung up the stairs. He was resting limply in their arms. Without thinking my legs began to bring me towards him. Mrs. Uim grabbed my arm.

"What happened to your poor feet!?" She said, startled. She threw herself to the ground, caressing my bruised feet, the bandages that used to be a pure white were tainted with light pink stains and smudges of dirt.

"It's just a few scratches." I said with a shrug. I pulled her back up to her feet. She looked incredibly concerned. 

Mrs. Uim looked very young for her age but at this very moment the strain of worry began to reveal the wrinkles of age that stretched across her forehead. I straightened the skin out with my fingers.

"I'm alright. Really, I am." I said with a reassuring smile.

"Do you have to leave again?"

I looked at her with a guilty expression which already answered her question.

"It's just for a few days."

"Why don't you stay here for the night? It's already so late."

I sighed. Maybe it was best since my car wasn't in the best shape either.

"Alright. But could you give a call to a car mechanic? I was hoping to get my car fixed before I had to head back out."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well..." I trailed. Impatient with my answer, Mrs. Uim opened the doors to the entrance to look for herself. She stared blankly at the expensive Porsche, the windows smashed in.