Shattered Empress|kth

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟮

Taehyung

My closest friend was gone.

I sat staring out into the inky blackness, a bottle of vodka nestled between my legs. The air was colder than balls, and I didn't even know what the fuck time it was, but none of that mattered either.

Nothing could wash away the searing pain in my chest, the one where a measure of caring had been. Now it felt like a gaping hole that was never going to heal, far different than anything I had felt before. Losing my sister and my nephew had been one thing, but this was closer. This was the man who had known everything about me.

He was supposed to be fucking invincible.

Drawing in a breath, I took another swig of the liquor, watching as the city lights twinkled in the distance. The entire fucking world should be in the same mood I was in, but around me, life was going on. Soon Jungkook would be nothing more than a memory to most, if even that much.

I wished it didn't hurt so much. Jungkook was my closest ally, the only fucking person I trusted to watch my back. He had always been there, and now that he wasn't, well, I felt like I was missing my right fucking arm.

It was my fault he was dead. My fault that he would never have any kids or even watch mine grow up. He would never pick up that damn sword he was always showing off or continue his lessons with Y/n, which I thought he was starting to like far too much.

He was gone.

The liquor tasted bitter in my throat, but I forced it down anyway, knowing that I would pay for this drinking in a few hours. Just when everything felt like it was going to go right, it went so fucking wrong. I had put my men in that situation, thinking I had just found a way to beat Baekhyun.

Now I had lost my best man, and likely my wife, over my decisions.

"Fuck me," I muttered, wanting to throw the bottle at the glass barrier on the balcony and watch it shatter like my very existence right now. I had lost a shit ton of men over the years but never someone that was close to me like Jungkook had been. He could anticipate every move I would make, sometimes before I could make them myself.

I had taken his body to his momma, who had done nothing but scream at me and look at the pine box that was now in her living room, knowing that her son, her sole provider, was no longer alive. I had let her rail at me, wishing that I could feel the pain of her assault just so I could feel anything at all. Of course, I promised her that she wouldn't want for anything, but that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

She wanted her son back, the one thing I couldn't give her and would never be able to heal for her.

Now, due to my fucking stupidity, he was dead, and I was without a second in command. I could pick anyone to take that spot, but it didn't feel right to do so. Jungkook had held that position for so long that I couldn't picture anyone else doing it.

Nor did I want to.

Another drink and I let the bottle fall to the ground, relaxing on the lounger with my hands behind my head. I wanted to rage. I wanted to fucking cry.

Anything to ease this pain in my chest and make it go away.

I couldn't though. I had my moment when I had seen Jungkook's body for myself.

I walked into the warehouse, the cold air barely registering around me. "We moved them in here," the the the brigadier at my side stated, his voice carrying in the nearly empty place. "I wasn't going to do anything unless you told us, boss."

I stared at the covered shrouds on the ground, five in all, the stench of burned flesh assaulting my senses. "Leave me."

The brigadier cleared his throat. "Are you sure that's wise, boss? There's no one to watch, err, your back."