Trouble Tamer

17. Just Concerned....

Jungkook quietly opened the door to Taejoon’s ward, his gaze immediately falling on Taehyung, who was seated beside his father’s bed, completely absorbed in his laptop. The faint sound of keys being tapped filled the room, a stark contrast to the otherwise quiet space. It had been nearly a week since they had fallen into this routine—splitting shifts with Namjoon and Jin to ensure someone was always with Taejoon while he rested.

Jungkook sighed softly, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the room. His heart ached at the sight of Taehyung—his husband was clearly exhausted, yet still so focused on his work, as if burying himself in tasks would make everything else disappear.

He understood the need to stay busy, but it pained him to see Taehyung like this, barely allowing himself to feel or process what was happening with his father.

He walked over to where Taehyung sat, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the deep concentration etched on his face.

Silently, Jungkook approached with a cup of coffee in hand, offering it to him without a word.

Taehyung glanced up, his eyes tired but his expression neutral. “Thanks,” he muttered quietly, taking the cup from Jungkook without breaking his focus on the laptop screen.

Jungkook watched him for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. Taehyung didn’t look at him—he hadn’t really looked at him in days, always too focused, too detached. Jungkook knew it was Taehyung’s way of coping, of maintaining control in a situation where control was slipping away, but it didn’t make it any easier to witness.

He pulled up a chair next to Taehyung and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees as he observed his husband’s steady typing. For a few minutes, there was silence between them, only the quiet hum of the hospital machines and the sound of Taehyung’s fingers dancing over the keyboard.

“How’s the work going?” Jungkook asked softly, hoping to ease the tension a bit.

“It’s fine,” Taehyung responded curtly, his tone clipped. “I’m almost done with this report.”

Jungkook sighed again, leaning back in his chair. He knew Taehyung was trying to keep everything together—balancing his work, worrying about his father, being the strong one for everyone. But Jungkook also knew how much Taehyung needed a break, a moment to breathe and let go.

“Tae…” Jungkook started, his voice gentle but firm. “You should take a break.”

Taehyung’s fingers paused briefly on the keyboard before continuing at the same brisk pace. “I’m fine, bun. I just need to finish this. Then I’ll rest.”

“You’ve been saying that for days,” Jungkook said softly, his tone laced with concern. “I know you’re trying to stay on top of everything, but… you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here.”

“I know,” Taehyung replied, though his voice lacked conviction. He took a small sip of the coffee, still not looking at Jungkook. “I just need to get through this. I’ll be fine once things settle.”

Jungkook’s heart clenched at the dismissive tone. He could see the cracks in Taehyung’s armor, the way his hands shook slightly as he held the coffee cup, the exhaustion in his eyes that no amount of caffeine could fix. He was falling apart, and Jungkook didn’t know how to reach him, how to make him stop and just feel.

“You don’t always have to be fine,” Jungkook whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “It’s okay to not be okay, you know?”

Taehyung froze, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in what felt like days, he looked at Jungkook—really looked at him. There was something in his gaze, something raw and unspoken, a vulnerability that Taehyung had been trying so hard to suppress.