"Life is about give and take; you know this better than anyone; the deal is clear, either you take an in, or war it shall be.
"It's indeed give and take, so why do I feel like the only one who gives without receiving anything in return?"
"Because th...
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Lies are bad.
Lies are relationship killers.
Lies are enemies inducers.
Lies are what earned Namjoon a dislocated jaw and deducted a friend from Taehyung's list. He couldn't get over the situation, felt disgusted with the opportunistic side Namjoon had shown to the point where bile rose in his gullet sitting across from him.
Taehyung had received a call from Prince, a guard who usually took the night shifts to keep an eye on you. He told him that he had orders to withdraw and that Namjoon was the one who gave them. At first, he thought that Namjoon had finally lost his mind out of compassion, which was infuriating in itself, but when you opened those plump lips and let out your words like the chirping of a bird on a warm spring morning, he was left to confront the atrocity of Namjoon's twisted realities.
Namjoon had also called a while after Prince's call and told him that you were on the run, which justified why he had taken you to the warehouse. Which, by all means, was real; you were fleeing from him.
From your friend.
Instead of admitting that he raided your house at 5 a.m., he made it look like a security guard called for backup. When he learned the truth, Taehyung couldn't tell where the disappointment ran deeper, where Namjoon's lies came from, or the lack of his faith.
Taehyung settled for the latter. He wouldn't question his faith in Namjoon or Jungkook, expected the same from them as well.
At least from them. His friends.
For fuck's sake, he was like an open book with him, full of scribbles written in pitch-black ink that he feared others would interpret as some kind of Vodou, but he always believed that Namjoon would read the hidden meaning behind them, for they shared the same engravings.
And he was disappointed, and although he had experienced the feeling more than once, this whole situation made him realize that he had not gained immunity from the various vaccinations, felt feverish for days in the aftermath, which skyrocketed his wrath like no PMS.
"For fuck's sake, she was your friend," Jungkook spat, "what's gotten into you, Namjoon?"
"She is," Namjoon pursed his lips in agony; his shoulder still ached, but he was glad to hear that he could still use his hand without problems; couldn't afford to lose the hand that handles scalpels and bipolar biceps, "she's even more than that."
To him, yes, you were; to you, he was just a friend.
But Namjoon never got over that night you spent together. You were drunk and so in need of affection that a simple pillow would have sufficed, but Namjoon was in the same state, as horny as they get. The alcohol only emitted heat to every muscle more than it should have; hence, when the morning sun illuminated the room and tickled your sleepy figure, you figured out that the heat you felt the night before had been already subdued, and all of a sudden, winter broke into your heart.
