the secret of kemet. taekook (complete)

𓃁⁴⁸. cards on the table

Jungkook stood in the kitchen, freshly showered, his hair still damp and clinging to his neck.

he's been like that for an hour now. mind not so peaceful as his features.

The cool air from the window did little to cool the storm in his chest. He absentmindedly bit into an apple, the crisp sound breaking the silence, but his mind was far from focused on the fruit in his hand.

All he could think about was Taehyung—how emotional and stubborn he’d been, and how things had escalated so fast.

This wasn’t the first time they’d fought like this, but it never got easier. He hated the tension, the anger, and the way it left him feeling so helpless.

Jungkook’s thoughts drifted to the last time they’d argued this badly. Taehyung had been drunk then, stumbling and slurring his words, tears in his eyes as he mumbled about how much he hated when they fought.

That night, Jungkook had found him sitting on the floor, barely holding it together, and the sight had shattered him. He didn’t want that again.

Without thinking, Jungkook dropped the half-eaten apple onto the counter and made his way to Taehyung’s room. He had to check on him. He couldn’t let this fight drag out, not when he knew how much it affects Tyung.

But when he opened the door, he wasn’t there. The bed was untouched, and the room was quiet—too quiet.

A wave of worry washed over Jungkook as he looked around, calling out softly, “Taehyung?” He tried again, louder this time, “Tae, where are you?”

No answer.

His heart rate picked up as he hurried down the hallway, checking every room, but still, no sign of him.

Panic began to creep in, a cold feeling settling in his stomach.

He couldn’t have gone out again, could he? Jungkook didn’t want to believe it, but his mind raced with the possibility.

Just as he was about to turn back toward the front door, he heard a soft creak from behind. His own bedroom door slowly opened, and there, standing in the doorway, was Taehyung.

They froze, eyes locking in the dim hallway light.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

Taehyung’s expression was soft, his eyes tired but calm, a stark contrast to the tear-streaked face Jungkook had seen earlier.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Taehyung said quietly, his voice steady but gentle.

Jungkook blinked, still processing the fact that Taehyung had been in his room all along.

“Why?” he asked, his voice softer now, the anger from earlier dissipating into something else—something warmer, more fragile.

Taehyung shrugged slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t like it when we argue,” he admitted, his voice small but honest. “I hate the way it feels… I just wanted to be close to you, even if I wasn’t ready to talk.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, soft smile. A quiet laugh escaped him, not mocking, but full of fondness. “You could’ve just said so.”

Taehyung looked up, meeting Jungkook’s eyes with a faint smile of his own. “didn’t know how,” he confessed, his shoulders relaxing now that the weight of the argument had started to lift.

Without another word, Jungkook stepped forward, closing the space between them.

“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler now. He placed a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, guiding him into the room. “Let’s go inside.”