Till Death Do Us Part ||Taekook||

Chapter #26 Promise of Blood

I gulped. I heard him wrong. I must've.

"Hm?" I croaked. His eyes darkened. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"I'll show you~" He grunted. He pulled me to my feet. Jerked may be a better word of representation. He dragged me into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind us. I bit my lip, my emotions clouded with nerves.

 I didn't like drunk Taehyung. He was unpredictable. Confusingly unpredictable. A series of pops and snaps forced my eyes to Taehyung who had his back toward me. 

Taehyung was ripping his blouse off. Quite literally. He had one hand on one side of his blouse opening, the other hand on the opposite. The veins in his arms pulsed and bulged as he ripped the blouse right down the middle.

The seams fringed and erupted from their once neatly sewn positions. Buttons clattered to the floor. He let the fabric roll off his shoulders. His top fell to the tile with a flutter, wrinkling into a colorful heap. 

I could turn on my heels and bolt out the door any second if I wanted to. But I didn't. I found myself far too mesmerized by the deranged man undressing himself right in front of my very eyes. He pulled violently at the lip of his jeans, letting the small slit curve around the button.

He left his fly zipped. He looked over his shoulder. My eyes didn't even bother to acknowledge anything else but his bare chest. He was slim yet effortlessly muscular. His tanned skin strained at every twist of movement. I swallowed. He smiled.

"Do you want me to help?" He asked with an innocent expression. His eyes were soft, his lips pulled into a harmless, playful smile. My eyes squinted.

 I was sending myself blindly into his sinister plans. I wasn't processing his intentions fast enough to properly respond. He slowly waltzed towards me. I bit my lips nervously.

I stumbled backward, my back arching from the painful collision of the door knob on my lower back. He firmly gripped my blouse. 

The back of his hands were facing him, his knuckles facing each other as he balled his hands into a fist. The fabric strained and stretched under the death grip of his fists.

Without a single breath of warning he pulled his knuckles apart. The buttons of my blouse, flying in different directions. The fabric ripped apart like a scorching knife through Styrofoam.

 Such extraordinary strength and power rippled from his slim arms into the tips of his fingers. In seconds my blouse transformed into an open jacket resting loosely on my shoulders. My chest and stomach on full display. His eyes trailed down my body.

I pushed him away, startled. I gently touched the ripped seams of my blouse where neatly sewn buttons used to be. I looked back up to be met with the eyes of a predator. Dark and hungry.

 His eyes were slowly dragging down my exposed skin. I quickly grabbed both sides of my blouse and pulled them back together to cover my chest.

He meandered towards the shower, his eyes finally peeling off of me. He swayed from side to side. He nearly tripped as he stepped over the bottom ledge of the shower. 

Nearly broke the glass shower door as he swung it open. He looked back into my eyes. He motioned me to come closer. Shit. I need to think of something quickly.

 I couldn't just run away like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. I needed to leave him with something he'd have to wake up to. Something that'd last.

I knew that meant leaving something physically noticeable. If It wasn't shaving his head, then what? I couldn't stop clinging to the thought that he just made a bitch of me a few minutes ago in the bedroom.