A Kim Taehyung ff.
[Book 2]
"Nice to meet you, S."
The doctor and the Gangster lived their lives peacefully until the darkness begins to invade their life again.
Everything falls apart. The laughter turned into sobs...
The nightmare of the country...
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Taehyung and Sri returned to his apartment, the atmosphere heavy with unease. Their hideout had been compromised after the attack, and the weight of the situation lingered in the air. Seokjin and Yoongi had dropped by during their off days, creating an unusual tension that always seemed to fill the space when Taehyung was absent.
"She is cute," Yoongi remarked, a rare smile gracing his lips as he sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to a picture of Taesoo that Taehyung had sent him.
Taehyung couldn't help but faintly smile back. The image of his daughter seemed to lighten even the grumpy Min Yoongi's mood. "She is the cutest," he replied, pride swelling in his chest.
"Taehyung... the assemblyman will be ready for the operation very soon. I hope you'll be able to handle it since you know..." Seokjin trailed off, his concern evident.
Taehyung nodded, biting his lip. Emotions were something he had learned to manage as a doctor, but this was different. He hoped with every ounce of his being that Taesoo would be rescued before the operation took place.
Their conversation was interrupted when Sri entered, placing coffee mugs in front of each of them, except for Taehyung, who preferred tea. Seokjin eyed the drinks suspiciously for a moment before Sri assured him, "It's not spiked."
The oldest doctor rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. "I never said it was."
"Sure," she replied, a sarcastic smile on her face as she settled into the seat beside her husband.
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Taehyung sat in silence for a moment, his gaze distant as he lost himself in thought. He flinched when Sri placed her hands over his. "Hey?" she called softly. The doctor hummed in response, snapping back to reality. "What are you thinking?"
"About our next move. Now that we have a hostage, how can we track the gang?" His eyes were fixed on the ripples in his cup, lost in contemplation. He periodically wetted his lips by licking them, a habit he had developed since childhood.
