(I listened to La leçon particulière and Salvatore and Cinnamon Girl by Lana del Rey while writing this chapter, hope you enjoy)Taehyung's POV:
As I watched Elara's figure vanish into the distance, a surge of panic flooded my senses. My heart raced a relentless drumbeat in my chest, urging me to move, to act, to find her before it was too late. But amidst the chaos and urgency, a singular thought echoed in my mind: Elara needs someone. She needs someone who wouldn't judge her, someone who would hold her even if she doesn't want to be held, someone to tell her it's not her fault. Someone who loves her- She needs me.
With a sense of urgency bordering on desperation, I sprinted towards the waiting car, my movements fueled by an instinct to protect her at all costs. The driver's eyes widened in alarm as I showed him my gun."Get out! I need the car!" My words came out in a frantic rush, my fingers trembling with adrenaline as I wrestled the driver from behind the wheel and threw myself into the driver's seat.
Navigating through the congested streets of Milan felt like navigating a maze, every turn and intersection a potential dead end in my frantic pursuit of Elara. My grip on the steering wheel was firm, knuckles white with tension as I swerved and dodged through the maze of cars and pedestrians.
With every passing second, the weight of my love for Elara bore down on me like a crushing burden, driving me forward with a single-minded determination. I would move heaven and earth to find her, to hold her in my arms and assure her that she was safe, that she was loved. "Move your fucking car!" I yelled at the cars blocking my way. I kept hitting the horn. "Fucking move!" I was losing my mind. "Elara, please don't do anything stupid." I kept repeating to myself.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of heart-pounding suspense, I caught sight of the car she was in, veering off into the darkness ahead. Without hesitation, I followed, my foot pressing down on the accelerator with renewed determination. I followed it but got lost after the car had disappeared from my line of sight. I drove around the hidden neighbourhood trying to look over their gates to find the house that had the car in their driveway.
It wasn't until after that I saw the car leaving. I stopped it and asked the driver. "Which house is Elara in?" He looked at me confused before saying, "Non capisco l'inglese." Fuck, he doesn't speak English. I sigh getting frustrated and speak, "Donna Elara, Casa?" I try to make do with the little Italian I know. He starts shaking his head, "No signore." He's refusing to tell me. I don't have time for this, I took my gun out and shot him in the hand. "Donna Elara where?" I asked again. He screamed out in pain and started pointing at the house at the end of the street.
I steered the car towards the house at the end of the street, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepared to face whatever awaited me on the other side of the door.
The front door wasn't closed and I ran in. Her heels were scattered and I saw a frame on the floor. As I approached the bathroom door, my heart pounded in my chest with a mixture of fear and urgency. I could hear Elara's cries growing louder, echoing through the tiled walls. Without hesitation, I pushed open the door and rushed inside.
The sight that greeted me broke my heart into a million pieces. Elara stood in the shower, her body trembling with sobs as water cascaded down her form. Her eyes were closed tightly as if shutting out the world and the pain it brought. She was lost in a wild, agonizing movement, her head swinging wildly back and forth during her psychotic episode. Every gesture she made gave the impression that she was fighting invisible demons within. Her whole body trembled with any move she made as if she couldn't control the chaos inside of her. Her eyes were wide with panic, reflecting the chaotic storm raging in her tormented head. Her actions displayed a sense of urgency, a desperate struggle to break free from the unseen bonds that held her captive to her suffering. And yet, beneath all the frantic movement, her features bore a deep sense of hopelessness.
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