His Dearest Weapon┃Taekook

Chapter 6 | Afraid

Taehyung, October 13 1985, Royal Palace of Azura

As I gingerly groan and gradually peel open my tired eyes, the fog of sleep enveloping my mind begins to dissipate. The small, dusty window allows a gentle ray of sunshine to filter into the dimly lit room. Slowly, I rise from the creaky bed, the clanging of chains echoing through the cramped space. A sharp pang in my stomach intensifies, the pressing urge to relieve myself becoming increasingly unbearable. Despite the presence of a nearby bathroom within the confines of this cell, my constrained movements due to the chains prevent me from making the necessary journey toward it.

As I stood there taking a deep breath, an attempt to calm my anxious nerves, my eyes fell upon a bowl resting near the cold, unforgiving bars of my confines. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was the meager breakfast provided to me. Despite the cereal being noticeably soggy, a clear sign of neglect, I made up my mind to consume it, if only to distract myself momentarily from the pressing need to relieve myself. Each bite tasted more like a chore than sustenance, but the uncomfortable pressure in my gut reminded me of the urgency of the situation. Eventually, the relentless demand for relief became too overwhelming to ignore, driving me to find a way to attend to this most basic of human needs under such deplorable circumstances.

I set the bowl down and walk to the bars. I clutch onto them and look around. 

"Hello?" I say tentatively, my voice echoing in the empty space, hoping for a reassuring response. "Is someone there?"

"Do you need something?" I hear an unfamiliar male voice ask. I couldn't see him so he's probably standing on the other side.

"I-i desperately need to use the bathroom; unfortunately, the chains restricting my movement don't reach far enough for me to reach the facilities," I responded with a sense of urgency.

"Oh, give me a minute," He requested, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as a voice responded. In the background, the sound of a heavy boot hitting the ground caught my attention before I turned to find a young man gazing into my eyes with a mesmerizing shade of ocean blue. His unkempt blonde hair gave him a rugged yet charming appearance, a stark contrast to Jungkook. There was a gentleness in his demeanor that Jungkook lacked, evident in the soft way he carried himself. Clad in a crisply ironed navy blue guard's uniform, a polished sword hung at his hip, glinting in the light. The insignias on his shoulder badges hinted at a high rank, suggesting a wealth of experience and authority encapsulated in his youthful form.

The man, whose gaze captured my attention, offered a subtle smile before swiftly surveying his surroundings and proceeding to unlatch the door. As he entered, his hands instinctively searched his pockets, retrieving what appeared to be a set of handcuffs. Approaching me, he locked eyes and politely inquired, "May I?" Responding to his request, I extended my hands towards him. Despite being a soldier, his touch felt surprisingly tender, akin to a soft feather's caress, embodying both strength and gentleness in his grasp.

The man pulls the other chains upwards and then places the handcuffs on me. From the depths of his pocket, he retrieves a shiny key, skillfully unlocking the restraints. Without warning, the heavy chains clatter loudly onto the hard ground, resounding in the solemn confinement of the cell, the echoing sound piercing through the silence like an unwelcome intrusion.

"They must hurt, right?" The man questioned, a worried expression distorting his features, fingers gently tracing the angry red lines left by the harsh metal chains that bound me.

I don't pull away.

"Yes, it really hurts." I mutter.

"I'm so sorry." The man mumbles and then leads me towards the bathroom. The bathroom was in better shape than the cell. It even had a shower and sink along with the toilet.