He was a patient man.
He wouldn't mind to wait for the right time to reap what he thought he deserved.
He had lived in the dark for far too long, that happiness was such a foreign notion for him.
Until you crossed his path and awakened something dee...
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Taehyung wouldn't be the man on top if he didn't implement control and discipline religiously. It was what he learned since the first month he started to live with his father.
Waking up at dawn, a few hundred meters of track graduated to long miles under the supervision of private coach, strength training, and shooting practice once he hit puberty, continued through his adolescence. The tiger parenting from his father was silently backed up by his mother, she never openly supported, but neither she opposed to his fierce teaching. As he grew older, the drill emphasized more in the firearm practice. However, physical training became too habitual for him to break from the routine. He had an obsession over regularities, something to keep his brain focused, away from his occasional disordered thought.
But lately, the exercise started to lose its effect for him, no matter how hard he tried.
The dream visited his sleep again recently. Those empty eyes from bodies that had lost its soul, gaunt expressionless faces he couldn't identify, tried to reach him with equally chilling voices haunting in his head. He had ended many lives in the last thirteen years, at some point he stopped caring. The numbers was a statement of his father's absurd sense of victory. How he was so proud that his son was a legend feared by his name alone across the underworld.
He was antsy since the orange sun kissed the horizon at dawn, even after an intense morning run. Just a few hours before the flight to Milan, after Alessandro announced the green light to proceed from his flight crew. His restlessness partly coming from another episode of poor sleep, as well as the anticipation of your eventual meeting with Jimin. He was pretty sure of the outcome, he knew Jimin so well, but a little part of him was still afraid of the possible unexpected turn of event. How vulnerable he was when you were implicated in his decision.
"Tell me, how much did he pay you to betray me? How low can you go when it comes to money?"
He crouched over the battered man on the floor, pulling his hair damp with sweat and blood to face him.
He watched as Jungkook landed another punch to the guy's chest, the sound of broken rib reverberating through the vast empty shed. The brass ring knuckle on Jungkook's fingers gleamed over morning sunlight similar to the silver piercing on his brow.
