Our Demons//Taekook

Jungkook-09

This is definitely not what it looks like.

I didn’t hang out around the area of the pub, chain-smoking and contemplating how to pick a fight and punch some motherfuckers.

Okay, I did.

But the next part is definitely not what it looks like.

I didn’t beat these people up because a cunt happened to grab Taehyung by his shirt or attempt to punch him.

Hurt him.

Right in front of me.

Yeah, so I did drive my fist in taehyung’s face the last time I saw him,but only I get to do that.

Anyway, this bunch of assholes ended up being victims of my sour mood because they happened to be here.Not because I followed taehyung like a creepy stalker or anything equally stupid.Okay, maybe I did, but it was only for two blocks. Maybe three.Fine. Five.

But none of that matters.The fact that I get to decorate my hand with their deplorable blood does.Fucker who caught taehyung by the shirt is now spluttering blood on the ground, half conscious, while I humble his friends.One of them ran away, but oh well, I have my hands completely full with the other two. I punch and kick them, reveling in the sound of bones cracking beneath my fingers.

There’s nothing I love more than having power over some cunts who happened to be in the wrong place at the very fucking wrong time.A red haze covers my vision as I go on and on and fucking on until they realize I might actually kill them—great possibility—then grab each other and flee the scene.

They’re limping, grunting, and cursing on their way to what can only be the hospital. Probably the police, too, but I don’t give a fuck at this point.In fact, maybe I shouldn’t have let them go and introduced them to their maker instead.

Red still covers my vision as I catch a glimpse of on lookers gathered around, eyes agape, and some of them were probably filming the whole thing, considering the phones.

I flash them my signature ‘back the fuck off’ look and they slowly disperse, lowering their heads and continuing with their debauchery.Now I have nothing to distract me from the actual cause of this damn ruse. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t instigated violence before just because,but this time, it definitely wasn’t random.

It’s because of the asshole I’ve been tracking in my peripheral vision,even while I was having my fingers soaked with blood.Usually, I don’t see anything through the satisfying red. But this time, I was more focused on taehyung and if he’d faint or escape.

He did neither.

The whole time, he stood rooted in place, his eyes wide, pupils dilated and lips parted.His gaze meets mine and remains there, not attempting to avoid me like he usually does.He must be so fucking drunk, because he stares at me, mouth hanging open, without his dash of uptight disdain.

Fuck this guy, seriously.

I’m so over him and his perfectly pressed pants, tucked-in shirts, and leather shoes. I’m over the way he looks to be in control but still appears hopelessly clueless at times.

Like right now.

His flawless golden-boy image is cracked at the seams—totally because of the alcohol he kept chugging the entire time I was there—and a pink flush covers his cheeks.

A few strands have escaped his styled hair, giving him a rugged edge. Rebellious. It’s safe to say he’s not caught under the rigid spell of his steel-like control.

At least, temporarily.

Momentarily.

I would’ve been all over that shit a few weeks ago, but now, I have to remove myself from his vicinity before I finish off the night by punching him.He got on my nerves enough by doing everything wrong earlier in the pub. From the way he pretended I was invisible, to saying he’d been in love, to denying we ever did anything.