[COMPLETED]
When two brothers are insanely obsessed with one girl who is running out of everything and trying to make her heart heal but when two extremely hot bachelors who are known as the biggest womanizer in the city and famous for their insane...
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DO VOTES AND COMMENTS, LOADS OF COMMENTS. ALMOST EVERYONE'S DEMAND 'TaeLeena' Y'ALL!
Some foreign language used in the chapter and the meanings: Moyprintsessa- My princess Bella Signora- Pretty lady Bella- Pretty Cazzo- Fuck Moy- Mine Kakmoy- Like mine
Taehyung's Pov
My eyelids were heavy, my body was aching as if I had come from a thousand mile marathon, like I was starving for decades, my body was burning like lava and I opened my eyes after a lot of struggles and a low groan escaped from my chest.
I refused to treat my old and new wound with the maids and butlers here. They tried to convince me but I refused eventually and as they all were afraid of me, they didn’t argue and I sent them to the quarter outside, stayed in my mansion all alone.
Bearing the unbearable pain all alone because, I'm not weak and I'm strong enough to tackle these pain which is nothing compared to my inner pain which I refused to let out, refused to share, refused to bring outside from my chest and show the world.
I'm alone. And I'll always be alone. And I'll die alone so, what's the point of binding myself into some unwanted, unsettled and unsustainable emotions? Infatuations? Illusions? Nothing. I have nothing left and I will survive no matter what. I'm fucking fine.
Getting up from the couch after a couple of failed attempts while clutching my left waist where I had been stabbed by that bastard. Eventually, I killed him at the end but he tried to kill me. That fucker fucking stabbed me on my waist and I just wrapped my shirt around my waist to stop the bleeding and probably passed out on the couch, I have no idea about that but It's confirm that I passed out not more than two hours.
“M-mr. Kim—” That voice. That shaking soft voice would be the death of me. Aleena freaking Esshal. What the fuck she is doing here? She was not supposed to see me this way. Not this fucking way where I'm literally soaked with that bastard's blood and sort of my own.
I slowly spin myself while clutching my waist tightly with my palm and see her looking at me with a pair of hurtful, fearful eyes and worried face. She is wearing a black floral top with tight black pants, matching ankle boots, black hair is open up fully. A long black coat hugging her full body to keep herself warm. She didn’t apply any makeup, just a sort of lip gloss hugging her pretty lips, begging me to savour them.
She looks ethereal. She always does. Looks beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, no matter how many words I utter to describe her beauty, that would be lesser. And I always observe her beauty no matter how the situation is. I will always find a way to admire her. Even if I'm on the verge of my death, leaving my last breath, I will always observe her beauty. Drink all of the features and the beauty among them.
