• M a k t u b : Spirit of the desert • [ Taekook ]

42. Taehyung, surprise

.
.
.

As he ran his palm over his face, he realized that his beard had grown a little.

It's been two days since the unfortunate events at the Jeon's home and Jungkook didn't even know how he got back to his house that night.

As soon as Nadira was given the necessary help at the hospital, Jungkook came back full of crippled thoughts. Two days passed without time, without awareness of the consequences.

He thought about what day it might be today. Maybe Friday or Saturday. He could guess it was Saturday. But maybe Sunday.

Anyway, Jungkook didn't care. It took him a long time to think.

He looked back at the mirror in front of him, drops of water making their way down his bare neck. He could tell he was pretty good physically.

Jungkook found out that he had to face Muhammad at some point, but even so he was too caught up in reality. Who was he fooling? He wasn't ready to cross paths with him, he wasn't ready to see that disappointment on the face of the man who was like a second father to him.

How could he continue to live with himself knowing that at the end of it all, he broke the promise he made to him?

Jungkook keenly observed the environment in which he was. There was an empty whiskey glass on the small table, while next to it was an ashtray with several cigarette butts. Red eyes gave the impression that the man had been awake the previous night, occasionally extinguishing his thoughts like those cigarettes.

- You moron... you had to screw everything up... - he barely audibly uttered while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

And if his thoughts hadn't been so shady, his hand would not have bled at that moment. He slammed his fist into the mirror in front of him, as the shattered glass momentarily turned into the image of a spider's web. The shards implanted themselves shallowly in his fist, letting the red liquid fall in the sink below.

If he could think a little better about everything, it became clear to Jungkook that in every choice in life and every doubt that came to him, in fact, he always decided for the alternative which would appear in the light.

So, he chose life with a woman he couldn't love. That's how he decided to run away from his true self and thereby disable the path to his own happiness.
.
.
Dressed in a plain T-shirt and pants, he waited impatiently and nervously in the salon. Occasionally he would move from one end of the sofa to the other, waiting for his father-in-law to clear up the whole situation.

His whole life consisted of this game of immutability, all that running away from the truth and creating a life far from Taehyung was actually the thesis of his life, a big stone on his heart.

And when he looked back at his life, it appeared to him in his image, like a shining and restless surface woven from the finest grains of sand and rags of darkness.

He wanted from the bottom of his soul to go back to the time when he was happy, he wanted to be in that warm bed with Taehyung again, while the morning rays would wash their pale faces.

Taehyung's hand was deeply immersed in Jungkook's now gray locks, while the younger would inhale the well-known sweet scent of Taehyung's skin. It was the only way he could see himself in the future.

Gray hair, loving looks, they would lie down together in their home in Busan, still entwined old limbs. That's the only way life would go back to its beginnings and Jungkook would realize anew every day how beautifully he actually lived his life.

The circle of reality would narrow around him and Jungkook was sure he wanted to die one sunny afternoon in his arms.

Although he admired the religion of the East, which managed to convey to him a bright and sunny death, and did him the greatest good that can be done to a mortal.

That was the reason he had to fight that day, while he was waiting fearfully for Muhammad.

He wanted to spend his life with Taehyung. Never more sure of that, he slowly got to his feet, when the man entered the salon, with an angry and confused look.

- Boy, what is it about? Why am I only now finding out that my daughter is in the hospital, injured? And I want to know why I had to rush through half the city to find you here, and not in the hospital next to her? - he asked questions that were perfectly on point.

It was up to Jungkook to finally decide if he wanted to die in the hour of hot silence with the one he loves or behind the slanting rain curtains with eternal sadness in his heart.

- Muhammad... I... - he paused a little, closed his eyes for a moment, while trying to gather the strength to finally say what had been floating around him for years.

- I'm not next to her because she doesn't want me there. I told Nadira that I want a divorce... and she ended up hurt...

- H-how? You! If you just raised a hand on her, I will... I swear... - Muhammad took a step towards the younger man, almost furious, but soon he saw how Jungkook's expression softened, he stopped in that intention.

- You know me so well. I don't have an ounce of violence in me, Muhammad. I could never hurt a woman, let alone the mother of my only son. Nadira hurt herself when I told her my decision. She couldn't stand it, she thought she was a bad wife and a bad mother and that's why I wanted a divorce. - he finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat that had been there since the beginning of the conversation.

- Jungkook, you know I've always looked at you as my son, so tell me honestly, is that true? Do you want a divorce because my daughter has not fulfilled her marital duty? If so, shame on me for not raising her well...

- No! Of course not. Nadira is wonderful, Muhammad. You did a perfect job with her, it's just... I wasn't a perfect husband. I failed and I'm ashamed of it. - the elder looked curiously at the other, tilting his head a little.

- I don't understand what you're talking about...

- I can't regret this marriage, because Zunair was born from it, but I... I can't continue this anymore because I will wither. I will die, because for years I have been trying to love her as she deserves, but I am not capable of that... I... - for a moment, he cut himself off from the conversation and related his condition to the time of his early youth when he first saw Taehyung.

He closed his eyes again, because he knew very well that the fateful moment had finally arrived, the moment when he had to reveal the secret that had been hidden for years.

- I love another person. - Muhammad looked sharply into the younger, angry eyes, with his hand across his chest, ready to ask a thousand more questions, but the doorbell surprised him bringing them back to the present moment.

A few seconds later, Ali walked hurriedly into the salon, his eyebrows furrowed, with information crucial to the entire course of events.

- Sir, you have a visitor... - before Jungkook could say anything, a man entered the living room.

The man who was a part of his past, present and future life.

His core.

The man who was the source of his fierce passions, the fever of desire and unrest of blood.

Taehyung appeared like magic and Jungkook couldn't help but feel his anxiety give way and love and temptation take over every part of his being. Again.

.
.
.
...to be continued...