Taehyung wakes up when the door to the room gets unlocked again. He’s been constantly going in and out of the state of being awake, easily losing consciousness. As it turns out, having nothing to do is even more tiring than living in a hustle. Or so he thinks because he never had to live in a hustle.
He slowly sits up on the mattress when the man who’s quickly becoming familiar sets down a bowl of meat next to his feet.
“Any more beef is going to make me nauseous,” Taehyung mumbles, but he’s probably going to take his chances and try eating the served food. His stomach burns from hunger since he skipped dinner yesterday, the remnants of the smashed bowl still laying shattered all over the floor.
The man eyes the glass pieces at his feet but he doesn’t comment on them, swiftly turning around to reach the door again.
“Wait,” Taehyung says, nearly pleads, and gets up from the mattress with wobbly legs, momentarily leaning against the wall when his head spins. He feels weaker than ever and he wasn’t even injured.
The Omega stalls and strangely, he even makes enough effort to turn back to glance at him. Taehyung rummages his mind for something to say before the other decides that he’s not worth one more second of his presence.
“I need a razor,” he blurts out for the lack of anything better to say.
The man squints his eyes slightly.
“I don’t particularly fancy a beard, so I’d like to shave it off,” he elaborates. “Also, could I ask for toothpaste? Even prisoners should have access to basic hygiene.”
His request is a long shot, but he holds onto anything that will make the man stay for a bit longer, not to say that those items would be indeed very useful. The other doesn’t answer him, but judging from the look in his eyes, he doesn’t find the question completely absurd either.
Taehyung is slowly learning how to read those eyes.
The man walks out of the room, which is a sight already engraved vividly in Taehyung’s mind. He leaves him with a speck of hope, though. If the other is willing to play even a few minutes of distraction from his thoughts, then he’ll gladly take it.
Taehyung grabs the discarded bowl of meat and starts munching on it slowly in case the gag reflex really hits. Maybe he’s spoiled after all. There are thousands of people who can’t afford to be picky about what they eat, but here he is, a literal prisoner, complaining about having to eat the same thing every day.
His chest feels just a tad bit lighter when the door to the room flutters open again and the man slips inside, this time with a cotton bag in his grasp. He extends the hand gripping the bag forward and Taehyung accepts it while carefully steering away from the gloved hand, promptly peeking inside in confusion.
He’s astonished to find there not only toothpaste and a razor but also a toothbrush, a bar of soap, a towel, and also what looks like a change of clothes. He looks up at the other man in question.
“You stink and I need to come here every day,” the man retorts, the tone of his voice still displeased, but not as tainted as usual.
Despite his words, Taehyung grins slightly. “I stink so much that you can’t stand the few seconds it takes you to drop the bowl of food and leave?”
“I don’t have to explain my reasoning.”
“Of course. Anyway, thank you,” Taehyung says sincerely and approaches the sink, eager to finally get rid of annoying facial hair.
The man lingers behind him and Taehyung sends him a questioning gaze.
“I’ll take the razor after you’re done.”
YOU ARE READING
your eyes tell 《taekook》
Fanfiction"I'll call you petal. Sturdy and capable on the outside, but delicate with me." Seven decades have passed since Omegas separated themselves entirely, training their naturally flimsier bodies to be able to fight against Alphas' abuse. They became a f...
