From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story

✨WOUNDED TRUST✨

The night was dark and still, save for the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. Jungkook and I had taken refuge in an old warehouse, hidden deep within the forest, far away from the chaos we had just escaped. But even out here, the air felt thick with unresolved anger and tension. The only sounds were our quiet breaths and the occasional groan from Jungkook, who was leaning against the wall, clutching his side where he had been wounded.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. His face was set in a hard expression, jaw clenched, sweat beading on his forehead. He was trying to hide the pain, but I could see it in every stiff movement.

"Let me help you," I said softly, stepping closer with the first aid kit I had found.

Jungkook didn't even look at me. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice cold and distant. "I don't need your help."

I froze, his words hitting me like a slap. I knew he was angry—angry at me for what Zalgo had revealed, angry at the world. But it hurt to see him push me away when I was just trying to make things right.

"You're hurt, Jungkook," I pleaded, trying to keep my voice steady. "You can barely move. You need—"

"What I need," he interrupted harshly, "is for you to stay away from me."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. His coldness stung, but I couldn't blame him. How could I, after everything that had happened? He had every right to be angry. I had been part of the plan that brought him down. Even if I hadn't followed through, I was still guilty.

Silence fell between us again, heavy and uncomfortable. I sat down a few feet away from him, staring at the small flickering fire I had made to keep us warm. My mind was racing, filled with the memories of the past few days. I tried to convince myself that I had done the right thing by not betraying him completely, but doubt gnawed at me. How could I expect Jungkook to forgive me, when I couldn't even forgive myself?

As the night wore on, the quiet was suddenly broken by a low, pained groan from Jungkook. I looked over and saw him clutching his wound, his face twisted in agony.

"Jungkook!" I rushed over to him, ignoring his earlier rejection. His breathing was labored, and his hands trembled as he tried to push me away.

"Get... away from me," he gritted out between clenched teeth, his voice weak.

But I couldn't listen. Seeing him in pain, knowing that I had been part of the reason for all of this, tore me apart. "No," I said firmly, grabbing the first aid supplies. "You need help, and I'm not going to sit here and watch you suffer."

He tried to protest, but he was too weak to stop me. I knelt beside him and carefully pulled his shirt aside, revealing the deep gash on his side. Blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage, and the sight of it made my stomach twist with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook," I whispered, my hands shaking as I began to clean the wound. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen..."

He didn't respond, but I could feel his body tense under my touch. His silence felt like an accusation, but I pushed through it. Tears blurred my vision as I worked, cleaning and dressing the wound as gently as I could. Jungkook winced, his eyes squeezed shut, but he didn't stop me this time.

I was crying now, tears slipping down my face as I bandaged him. "I never wanted to hurt you," I choked out. "I didn't know... I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what to believe. And now, I don't even know who my real parents are..."

Jungkook's breathing slowed as the pain subsided, but he still said nothing. I could feel the weight of his anger and disappointment, and it crushed me. When I finished, I sat back on my heels, wiping the tears from my face.