A Kiss For A Kiss

21

The metallic tang of blood lingers in the air, mingling with the smell of gunpowder. My breath is ragged, chest heaving as I glance around the room. The adrenaline is still thrumming through my veins, but the momentary calm after the fight leaves me jittery. The bodies of Chung Ae's men lie in twisted heaps around us, but I know this is far from over.

Jungkook stands a few feet away, his back to me. He's still gripping his gun, eyes fixed on the entrance, waiting. Always waiting for the next storm, like he's ready to dive headfirst into chaos again. The distance between us feels like a chasm, the air thick with unresolved tension.

I can't take my eyes off him. Even after everything we've been through—years of betrayal, bloodshed, and regret—Jungkook's presence still has a way of pulling me in, like gravity. But I've learned to fight it. I have to, or it'll consume me.

Taehyung shifts beside me, shaking the blood off his hands as if it's just another day in this violent world we live in. His calm demeanor doesn't mask the intensity of his gaze. He looks at Jungkook, then at me, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

"You two should talk," he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

I shoot him a glare. "Now's not the time."

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, but before he can reply, the sound of footsteps echoes through the warehouse. We all freeze. My hand instinctively tightens around my gun, ready for round two, but the tension eases when two familiar figures step into the light.

Suga and Jimin.

They look just as battered as we do, but their eyes are sharp, alert. Suga's mouth twists into a wry grin, his black hoodie pulled low over his eyes, giving him that ever-present aura of mystery. Jimin, on the other hand, looks ready for a fight, his jaw clenched and fists tight.

"You guys really know how to throw a party," Suga says, his voice laced with sarcasm as he steps over one of the dead bodies.

Jimin chuckles darkly, shaking his head. "Always in the thick of it, huh?"

I can't help but let out a short laugh, despite the weight pressing down on my chest. "You know me."

Jungkook finally turns, eyes locking on Suga and Jimin, and for a second, something like relief flashes across his face. But then his gaze shifts to me, hardening again.

"We need to move," Jungkook says, his voice low, commanding. "Chin-hae's men will be on us any minute now."

Chin-hae.

Just hearing that name makes my blood run cold. Ever since Chung Ae's death, Chin-hae's taken over his empire like a vulture picking at a corpse. He's ruthless, methodical. And his eyes have been on me ever since the hospital attack. The scar on my chest is a constant reminder of that. But Chin-hae doesn't just want me dead—he wants to make an example of me.

I glance at Jungkook, his face unreadable, but the tension between us feels like it's about to snap. Ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, things between us have been... strained. The unspoken words, the buried emotions—it's all building, simmering beneath the surface. But there's no time to sort through it now.

Jimin steps forward, nodding toward the door. "We've got a car ready. Let's get the hell out of here before they send another wave."

I move to follow, but I feel Jungkook's eyes on me. His gaze lingers, heavy with something I can't quite decipher. Part of me wants to confront him, to demand answers to the questions that have been eating at me since we reunited. But another part of me—the part that's still raw, still healing—just wants to keep moving, to avoid the inevitable collision that's coming between us.