Truth Or Love || Taekook

52

Jungkook sat in the alley, the familiar flicker of Seoul’s lights reflected in his eyes, but tonight they felt distant—just like his dreams.

The same place where he’d once brought Taehyung on their first outing now felt like a cruel reminder of everything he had lost.

His gaze was blank, looking out into the city but seeing nothing, the weight of regret bearing down on him so heavily it felt suffocating.

Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood from his hands, which were raw and scraped from his frantic attempts to claw away the pain that threatened to swallow him whole.

He couldn’t help but mock himself, laughing bitterly as he recalled his own words:

“I’m going to make Taehyung mine.”

The irony twisted like a knife in his gut, a cruel reminder that he had failed to turn that promise into reality.

He laughed and cried at the same time, a pitiful sound echoing in the empty alley, a reflection of his shattered heart.

As his thoughts swirled, he didn’t notice the soft footsteps approaching him from behind.

Suddenly aware, he quickly wiped his face, trying to mask the vulnerability that had overtaken him, but it was too late; he was still raw and exposed.

His mind was too lost in a whirlwind of regret and self-hatred until he heard the faint whisper.

"Can I sit here?"

Jungkook’s heart stilled. He turned his head slowly, almost afraid to believe his ears.

But there he was—Taehyung, standing right in front of him, eyes wide, vulnerable, yet holding that quiet strength Jungkook admired so much.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as he simply nodded, shifting over to make space, his body tense, unsure of what to expect.

Taehyung sat down, their shoulders brushing in the cool night air. The warmth of Taehyung’s body next to his made Jungkook’s heart race, a small, fragile reminder of what they used to have.

The silence between them was deafening, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Taehyung, for a moment, seemed lost in thought, his eyes flicking down to Jungkook’s hand, still bloodied from the earlier altercation.

Taehyung’s voice was soft, but his words were firm. “Give me your hand.”

Jungkook blinked in confusion, following Taehyung’s gaze to his injured hand.

He’d almost forgotten about it amidst the whirlwind of emotions crashing through him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he extended his hand, unsure of what Taehyung would do. He felt a strange sense of vulnerability as Taehyung carefully took his hand into his own.

Taehyung’s touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he began treating the wound with the first aid kit he had brought, his movements slow and deliberate.

Jeongguk watched, mesmerized by the tenderness in Taehyung’s actions, as if each careful gesture was filled with emotions that had been bottled up for far too long.

The soft brush of Taehyung’s fingers sent a warmth coursing through Jungkook’s body, an ache forming in his chest that made him want to say so much but at the same time, nothing at all.

When Taehyung finished, Jungkook whispered, “Thank you.”

Another heavy silence followed, and Jungkook felt the air grow even thicker with unspoken words. Until Taehyung, in a soft but steady voice, finally asked, “Do you have anything to tell me?”