It was finally over. Taehyung’s last exam had ended, but the relief that should have come with finishing didn’t arrive.
His body was completely drained, and the exhaustion was weighing heavily on him. He hadn’t had a proper meal in days, living only on tiny breakfasts, and today wasn’t any different.
As he trudged towards his apartment, skipping the stairs in hopes of a quick escape to the comfort of his bed, his vision started to blur.
The world around him felt distant, his footsteps heavy. His legs gave out under him, and before he knew it, everything went black.
A crowd quickly formed, curious students gathering around the sight of Kim Taehyung lying collapsed on the stairs.
Whispers floated through the crowd, with some students even taking out their phones to record the cold, aloof boy in this vulnerable state.
“Is that Kim Taehyung? No way…”
“He looks terrible.”
“Do you think he’s okay?”
Some people simply stood, gossiping, while others hesitated, unsure of how to help.
At that moment, Jungkook and his group—Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok—were passing by, talking about how great it felt to finally have exams over. Jungkook caught sight of the crowd and furrowed his brows.
“What the hell is going on?” Jungkook muttered, curiosity tugging at him. Yoongi looked equally confused, but it was Jungkook who instinctively stepped forward to investigate.
The moment his eyes landed on the collapsed figure at the center of the crowd, his heart skipped a beat. Taehyung.
Jungkook's blood ran cold as he shoved his way through the gawking students, anger boiling beneath the surface.
“Move! Get the hell out of the way!” he snapped, his voice sharp with urgency and frustration. The crowd parted, startled by his intensity.
He dropped to his knees beside Taehyung, who looked utterly lifeless, pale and too thin. Jungkook's jaw clenched as he gently cradled Taehyung’s head in his lap.
“Fuck…” he cursed under his breath, his hands trembling as he lifted Taehyung with surprising care, holding him close like he was the most fragile thing in the world.
Namjoon approached, looking concerned. “Jungkook, should we call someone—?”
“I’m taking him to the sickroom!” Jungkook growled, standing up with Taehyung in his arms. His voice was cold, seething with anger—not at Taehyung, but at the situation, at the useless crowd.
“And stop fucking recording, you vultures!” he shouted at the students still holding their phones, his eyes burning with fury.
Jungkook didn’t wait for anyone’s approval. He moved quickly, carrying Taehyung as if he weighed nothing, his usually flirty demeanor nowhere to be found.
His friends followed closely behind, exchanging worried glances but knowing better than to interrupt.
As Jungkook ran toward the sickroom, his thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration and worry.
“Damn it, Taehyung… why the hell do you push yourself so hard?” he muttered, more to himself than to the unconscious boy in his arms.
He cursed under his breath repeatedly, the panic evident in his voice. “Fucking hell, don’t you dare—”
Yoongi, who had caught up with Jungkook, placed a hand on his shoulder as they reached the sickroom door.
“He’ll be okay, Jungkook,” Yoongi said softly, though his own face was tight with concern.
YOU ARE READING
Truth Or Love || Taekook
Romantik"Watch your back, sweetheart," Jungkook growled, his voice lower, more dangerous now. "You and I... we're not done." Taehyung glanced down at the hand on his arm, then met Jungkook's eyes with a cool, unimpressed look. "I'd say we were never really...
