Till Death Do Us Part ||Taekook||

Chapter #68 House Arrest

 The days pass slowly. Both Taehyung and I were cooped up in the house. Ironically both by our own faults. Taehyung's fault because I got fucking kidnapped because of him, mine, for obvious reasons. Turns out being somewhat famous was a rather heavy burden. Neither of us could be seen in our condition, not even at a cafe or a fucking grocery store. 

That being said, with both of us on house arrest, my schedule significantly freed up. So, I spent my time doing the one thing I promised myself I'd learn. Boxing. The trainer Taehyung hired was no amateur. With a build like the hulk and tattoos plaguing his tanned skin from his neck to his toes, he certainly looked the part. The first few days he took it easy on me. His hits were more like love taps.

Eventually, I got a tiny bit frustrated. By a tiny bit, I mean I swung at him like an MMA fighter. My fist swiveled his head to the right, dribbled blood down his chin. Obviously, I felt awful before I could even suck in another breath after I hit him. I apologized over and over until my mouth was dry from speaking so quickly. When his only response was a shallow smile, I knew from then on I was no longer his student. More like an impending victim to his eventual revenge.

Every single session following that fateful day, he swung harder, faster, and his hits were mean and deliberate. He had a kick for aiming at my liver. I picked up on his tricks within a single use of them, but the second I got the hang of one strategy, he'd throw in a move beyond my imagination. He was real smart with his targets. 

I knew he'd never hit me in the face, or the throat. He knew better than to aim for something I couldn't hide. That meant my chest and stomach had more purple and black than any other color. My thighs were yellow, purple, and red from taking countless kicks to the legs. My shins looked even worse.

What was supposed to be a period of healing ended up being a period of sheer violence. The days blended into the same routine. Sleep, eat, box. I'd end the days the same, spending quality time with Mrs. Uim. When this pattern started, that used to be my favorite part of the day. But as the bruises worsened and multiplied, it became harder and harder to hide the pain. It was a stressful acting challenge if anything.

My knuckles have been bruised and cracked for weeks. I refused to give them a break when I always felt like one more session would push me past the beginners block. I rarely spent time with Yoongi and Jimin. Both were busy with work now that summer has started. We had dinners with one another every now and then, but for the most part, we lived our own lives. One notable change was my online presence.

I promised Jimin to keep in contact no matter how busy we get. This meant countless messages filtered between the newly made group chat including Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. I didn't mind the constant pinging. 

Surprisingly, the four of us were effortlessly compatible despite our obvious differences. I haven't seen Namjoon since lunch a few weeks ago. He said something about traveling abroad to open new museums in America. Whatever he was doing, he still made an effort to respond to our daily conversations, however dry they may be.

Yoongi rarely inputted his opinion unless he was directly addressed. I found that habit of his rather fitting. More than half of our chats were Jimin. Not a huge shock there. There were times I forgot it wasn't just a conversation between him and I.

 Recently things have been different, but tolerable nonetheless. I practically lived in my boxing wraps. Exercise became my new coping mechanism. As the days passed my wound became better and better. My eye improved until it looked more like a red birthmark than a bruise. My neck was nearly completely healed. A faint scar remained on the right side of my neck.

It wouldn't be long until I'd get the green light to come back to work. The gash under my eye seemed to linger, giving the impression it will most likely become a permanent scar as well. I didn't really mind. It added character per say. Besides, it was rather minimal, short and shallow in its appearance.