Taekook Oneshots🔞 || Taekook Oneshots

Wound is yours, Why does it make me bleed?

Seeing the security footage, Jungkook was certain of his hopelessness. There was no way he could see the face of the man who had came upto him that night and had told him to buy that book.

There was no way he could see how the man looked like so he could have his men find out about him. His image was only present in his memory, in his mind in the form of those blue eyes that amidst the turmoil going on inside him, he clearly remembered.

Those blue eyes, those words, the tenderness laced in those and the way he looked at him, he remembered it all. But, from the way that blonde haired blue eyed man roamed in the party, it was clearly seen that he kept his eyes over Jungkook, standing in the same position with his back facing the camera, he kept turning his head to take a look at Jungkook more so often.

It was like more than the publishing of the book, he was there just for Jungkook, to keep his eyes over him and make sure that he doesn't leave without buying the book which again proved Jungkook's assumption that he was sent by the author Kim Taehyung to make sure that the book reaches it's rightful owner, the one for whom it came into existence.

That the book reaches the person who was the reason of those poetic lines coming to life.

Jungkook closed the laptop after watching the entire footage for the nth time and then looked up to meet his eyes with his assistant, " Get me the guest list of the party. Also, if possible try to contact Kim Taehyung's assistant. "

His assistant's brows furrowed, " Sir, Kim Taehyung's assistant is not available to anyone-"

Jungkook let out frustrated sigh, because it was something that was being told to him for the third time in the past 11 hours. His guard, his best friend and now his assistant. He knew the way to Kim Taehyung won't be effortless, because other than his name and his words there was nothing that was available on the internet about him. Nothing.

Not his birthplace, lifestyle, other hobbies, story, or even a single picture. There was nothing other than his works: his novels and poetry books. There was no way he could see him or get to know how it was possible that a well-known writer in the world had written a poetry book for him, just because he wanted to give him hope through his words after his wife died.

The thought was still foreign and felt like a dream, a fictional story, a fantasy. But it wasn't. The book titled Wound is Yours, Why Does it Make Me Bleed? placed right in front of him on his desk was the door to this exquisite reality. It was the truth. One hundred and ten poems in that book, which reflected his existence, became the proof that it wasn't a dream. It was the reality.

But, other than that book, there was no door that could open and guide him to that man who, for the time being, transformed his tormenting reality into this unbelievably dreamy one.

" Just find something. " His voice came out tender, almost in the manner of pleading. Something in his voice had his assistant widening her eyes taking a thorough look of Jungkook and then nodded, even though Jungkook could not see her.

" Okay, sir. I'll find something. " Leona muttered, eyeing Jungkook waiting for his response for a second, but when he found Jungkook lost in his own mind, she bowed before him and turned her back at him to leave the office.

Jus when her hand held the doorknob, Jungkook managed to say, " Order all of his works for me, at my address. His novels, his poetry books, the articles written on him, his reviews, everything that is available on Internet on his name whether good or bad, I want that at mansion as soon as possible. "

Leona nodded, " Okay, Sir. "

" And Leona, "

Leona turned her head back at Jungkook again, and their eyes met where she could clearly see the mountains of desperation and need her boss was currently having to find out about the writer. " I want to find him. Even if it's a little thing, don't hesitate to contact me to let me know about it, even if it's the middle of the night. Am I clear? "