Anger never builds; it only tears down. In the heat of a single moment, it can feel like strength, an armor to hide behind. But when the fire fades, all that's left are the ashes of what once mattered. Anger doesn't solve anything-it devours patienc...
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Some people will hurt you and never apologize — heal anyway.
Chapter 11: Fire
Three days passed in Jungkook’s villa, and though Taehyung’s bruises had faded and his body was healing, the heaviness in his chest never lifted. As he packed his few belongings and slipped on his worn jacket, he knew he couldn’t stay any longer. His own home—messy, cramped, and filled with his mother’s presence—was waiting. And besides, there was rent he hadn’t paid. The tenant had already sent him notices, reminders that scraped against his pride. He had no money left—he’d wasted it following Jungkook, clinging to revenge instead of survival.
“Are you sure you want to leave?” Jungkook’s voice broke into his thoughts. He was leaning casually against the wall, but his eyes were sharp, almost pleading. “You can stay here as long as you need.”
“I can’t.” Taehyung tugged at his sleeve, refusing to meet his gaze. “I have a house to live in.”
“Won’t you feel lonely there?” Jungkook pressed gently. “A place like that… it might make things worse.”
Taehyung gave a faint, almost bitter smile. “It’s lonely, yes. But I can’t leave it behind. Everything my mother gave me is still there. That house is all I have left of her.”
Jungkook hesitated, then offered, “At least let me drive you. I’m not busy today.”
Taehyung shook his head stubbornly. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I won’t throw my life away—not until I find the truth about my mother’s death.” His voice was firm, but beneath it was a quiet desperation, the sound of someone clinging to a single thread of purpose.
Jungkook stepped forward and ruffled his hair lightly, startling him. “Don’t talk like that,” he murmured. “It’s frightening… hearing you speak as if dying is fine, so long as you get your revenge. Life doesn’t work that way.” His eyes lingered on Taehyung’s face, searching, but he knew pity would only drive the boy further away.
“Thank you… for letting me stay,” Taehyung said finally, his lips curving in the faintest of smiles. “I’ll get going now.”
“Be careful,” Jungkook replied, forcing a smile of his own.
Taehyung left the villa with the weight of unspoken words pressing on his back. As he walked down the streets, he tugged his hood over his head, ignoring the prying eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere. He wasn’t surprised. Everyone must have heard about what he did—how he tried to kill Jeon Jungkook. Whispers clung to him like shadows, but he pushed forward, jaw set.
Then he heard it—sirens. Loud, wailing, urgent. Fire trucks thundered past, heading in the direction of his neighborhood. At first, he ignored it. Accidents happen every day. But when they turned onto his street, something cold gripped his stomach. His feet moved faster, his heart hammering in his chest.
