Have You Fallen In Love, Yet? | TK

25.

Taehyung POV

His words were filled with an intense vulnerability that pierced through my heart, causing an overwhelming surge of emotion that I struggled to contain. As I looked at Jungkook, I couldn't ignore the disheveled state of his hair, the crimson streaks on his pallid cheeks, and the bloodshot intensity in his eyes. My attention was drawn downwards to his hand, which was glistening with blood, adding to the grim scene before me.

"Of course, I came back, Koo," I said softly, feeling the weight of his words heavy in the air. "W-why did you think I w-wouldn't?"

Jungkook's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes filled with remorse and vulnerability. "Y-you were so mad. And you didn't want to talk to me," he admitted, his words a mix of regret and pleading. "I'm sorry, doll. I won't ever touch you again. Just d-don't leave me. I know I crossed my limits, but I p-promise I will never do that again."

I did this to him. 

I made him into a mess just because I couldn't own up to my emotions. How could I have hurt him so deeply, all because of my own inability to communicate? How could I have done this to the one that does everything to make me smile? 

I gently cradle Jungkook's face within the warmth of my palms, guiding his gaze to meet mine with a compassionate touch. "No, Koo. I wasn't mad at you. I just needed some space to clear my head and sort my feelings out. I'm not upset about last night. I wanted that. I begged you to touch me. And I don't regret it but everything was happening so fast that my brain went haywire and I couldn't comprehend," I explain. 

Jungkook's eyes lighten a bit. "Your feelings?"

"Yes, my feelings," I reply. "But we can talk about that later. Now, tell me what happened to your hand?" I brush a bloody lock of hair away from his eyes.

"My hand? Oh, nothing. It's fine," Jungkook replies. 

"No, it is not," I mutter gently as I notice him wince slightly. I reach for his hand and turn it around, revealing a small but deep cut. I bet its from the glass shards. "Did—did you do this?"

Jungkook's gaze drops to his injured hand as he admits quietly, "I'm sorry."

I sigh. "Let me clean you up."

"No, doll. I'm fine," Jungkook utters. He quickly brushes his bloody hand onto his trousers, the liquid soaking into the fabric. "See? All clean."

Feeling a mix of exasperation and tenderness, I softly insist, "Koo, please," as I guide him to sit on the edge of the bed. I take a moment to gather my thoughts before asking, "Sit here while I go grab the first-aid kit. Which is where exactly?

"Underneath the sink in the bathroom," Jungkook replies. "Honesty, though. I'm perfectly fine, doll. This cut is nothing compared to all the other wounds I've gotten."

I walk into the bathroom and grab the first-aid kit. Blinking back tears, I take a deep breath and make my way back over to Jungkook. "I've taken my first-aid course so I'm decent at patching cuts like these up."

Jungkook nods slowly, a silent gesture of trust, as I crouch down in front of him to attend to his injury. With tender care, I gently grasp his hand, feeling the coolness of the wet cloth against my skin as I delicately wipe away the trace of blood. The task is meticulous, each movement precise, until the wound glistens clean under the soft light. Taking the next step in his healing process, I reach for the tube of antibiotics, carefully applying the soothing ointment. Raising my gaze to check on Jungkook's well-being, I'm taken aback by the way his eyes are fixed not on his injured hand, but on me. "You won't leave me ever again, doll," Jungkook's voice quivered slightly as he spoke, his eyes pleading for reassurance.