His Dearest Weapon┃Taekook

Chapter 20 | His past

Taehyung, November 10, 1985, Royal Palace of Azura

As Jungkook's eyes widened in disbelief, I noticed the shirt slipping from his grasp, falling to the floor as my voice pierced through the silence. Slowly, he turned, his bare chest exposed to my gaze, and a sudden wave of unease washed over me, prompting me to avert my eyes. "W-what?" The stammer in his voice sent shivers down my spine, eliciting an involuntary reaction that manifested as goosebumps spreading across my skin.

"The scars on your back," I hesitantly inquire, my curiosity piqued. "Where are they from?"

"That's not something you need to know," Jungkook responded curtly, his demeanor guarded as he retrieved his shirt, sliding his arms through the sleeves with a controlled elegance. Despite his attempts to deflect my inquiries, a depth of vulnerability lingered beneath his tough exterior, inviting my curiosity further.

"But I would like to know," I state as I step closer. 

"But I don't want to tell you," Jungkook snaps.

"Why?" I say.

Unyielding, he chose to remain reticent, emphasizing with each button fastened that he was determined to shield his past from scrutiny – especially mine.

"Jungkook?" I call out. "I would like to know."

In a sudden whirl of emotion, Jungkook closes the distance between us, his demeanor intense as he leans in to assert his words with a raw fervor. "You're so eager to know, aren't you?" he growls, his eyes blazing with a mixture of vulnerability and defiance. "Listen then. These scars, they're a testament to the cruelty of my own flesh and blood."

"What?" My disbelief is palpable, reflecting the shock and horror that echo in my voice. How could a family be capable of such heinous acts, inflicting lasting wounds on their own kin?

"Yes, my family. My mother, my father, my brothers and my sister," Jungkook whispers. "Did you want to know what they did, too? They would burn rods of metal and stab them onto my back every time I returned home without money."

"B-but why?" I ask. Even though I hate Jungkook with everything in me, the thought of someone getting abused by their own family made my skin crawl. 

"I w-wasn't good enough. None of the lords wanted me as their slave. Too weak, too scrawny," Jungkook replies. "My family didn't get money from my existence so they rewarded me with these scars."

"O-oh Jungkook," I murmur. "I-i'm so sorry."

Jungkook's gaze darkens as he fixes me with an intense stare. "Is it pity that you offer me, Taehyung?" His voice carries a mix of vulnerability and defiance, a turbulent blend of emotions simmering beneath the surface.

"W-what?" I say, the sudden change in his tone catching me off-guard.

"Are you pitying me?" Jungkook's words come out as a snarl, his grip on my chin firm as he demands my attention. "Don't you dare, Taehyung. I refuse to be seen as a victim. And yet, here I stand, revealing my truth to you. Why is that? Why did you compel me to share this pain, Taehyung? Why!"

The raw emotion in his voice pierces through my defenses, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring a pain I can barely comprehend. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I struggle to find the right words. "I don't pity you," I manage to whisper, the weight of his suffering almost too much to bear. "I can't even imagine the horror you might've gone through."

"That's right, Taehyung," Jungkook utters. "You can't even imagine."

○○○

"Take him back," Jungkook says firmly, his voice carrying a hint of urgency as he gently guides me out of the chamber and towards the guards stationed at the entrance. 

As I start walking back to the dungeon, I look behind my shoulder to see Jungkook still standing there, staring right at me. I keep his gaze for a second longer before turning back. 

Jimin unlocks the cell as he sees me approaching. Giving him a small smile, I walk into the cell and lay down onto the cot. "Everything alright, love?" Jimin asks.

"Yes. I just need some time to myself," I murmur. 

"If you need to talk, I'll be right here, hmm," Jimin says as he goes back to his position. 

They would burn rods of metal and stab them onto my back every time I returned home without money. His pain-filled words seemed to echo endlessly within my mind while I lay motionless, my eyes fixed on the dreary expanse of the grey ceiling above me. The realization that Jungkook had suffered abuse came as a staggering revelation, a truth I could never have fathomed. In this society, women are always desired because of their ability to get money from rich bastards. Lords and nobles that desire men also give a lot of money to get boys as sex slaves. That's what my mother wanted to do to me, send me off as a sex slave to get her precious money. 

The same thing happened to Jungkook but the lords didn't desire him because he was powerless. Weak, he said. He was weak then.

He isn't anymore though.

Tears welled up in my eyes, on the verge of spilling over, as my mind spun with images of Jungkook enduring the searing pain of being struck with hot rods. The sheer agony he must have experienced was almost unbearable to think about. It made me wonder: was this torment a contributing factor to his current demeanor? Could his past traumas have become the catalyst for transforming him into someone unrecognizable?

He was powerless.

So, he stole the power.

I have so much empathy for Jungkook after learning about his tear-filled past but it isn't right. Just because of his scars, he's giving others scars, too. This cycle of hurt and pain is not justifiable, and it is crucial that Jungkook finds a way to heal and break free from this harmful pattern.

The wedding is coming up soon and before learning about this, I was oh so ready to kill that man but now, I'm not that sure that I'll be able to.

~

Boring chap, Ik

I'll try to update soon (tryna get to the get good parts asap)

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