SHATTERED INNOCENCE

chapter 8

Tae’s eyes fluttered open to the soft knock of a maid who informed him that Mr Jeon was waiting downstairs. Disoriented, Tae dressed hastily, the fog of sleep still clouding his mind. The enormity of the mansion struck him as he descended the grand staircase, his eyes wide with awe and trepidation. Everything felt too big, too imposing, and too foreign. The luxurious surroundings were in stark contrast to the warmth and familiarity of his own home

As he reached the dining room, Tae spotted Jungkook seated at the head of the table, a figure of cold authority. The contrast between them couldn’t have been more stark: Tae, with his tousled hair and yesterday’s dirty clothes, and Jungkook, immaculate and composed. Tae hesitated, his feet glued to the floor, his lower lip jutting out in an unconscious pout.

Jungkook glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Tae’s disheveled state. With a sigh that carried more irritation than empathy, he gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Tae obeyed, sliding into the chair with a sense of dread gnawing at his insides. His eyes lit up briefly as he saw his favourite pancakes, but the spark of joy was extinguished as quickly as it had ignited. His gaze darted around the room, searching for familiar faces—his appa, his hyungs—but all he found was emptiness. The realisation hit him hard, and his eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. He didn’t know how to eat without them. The simple task of holding a spoon seemed impossible.

Jungkook watched, his annoyance growing as Tae fumbled with the spoon, clumsily trying to bring a piece of pancake to his mouth only to have it slip and fall. The small boy’s face crumpled, tears spilling over as he stared at the food he couldn’t manage to eat. He wanted nothing more than to be held by his father, to feel the warmth of his family surrounding him, guiding him.

His quiet sobs quickly turned into loud, heart-wrenching cries that filled the vast dining room, echoing off the cold walls. The maids stood by, their expressions full of pity as they watched the innocent boy break down, their hearts heavy with sympathy. But they could do nothing; the master’s orders were absolute.

Tae’s desperate plea cut through the air, “W-wanna g-go to a-ppa…” His small hands rubbed at his tear-streaked cheeks, his sobs growing louder as he repeated the only thing he wanted, the only thing he knew.

Jungkook’s patience snapped. The sound of the boy’s crying was like a needle prickling at his last nerve. “YOU WILL NOT GO ANYWHERE… YOU WILL STAY HERE FOREVER! I WILL NEVER LET YOU MEET YOUR FATHER!” The thunderous roar of his voice shocked everyone, most of all Tae, who froze, his sobs turning into trembling gasps.

Tae’s entire body shook with fear. No one had ever raised their voice at him like that. His small, fragile world had been shattered, and all he could do was cry harder, his voice hoarse with fear and sorrow. Jungkook, too far gone in his anger to notice the boy’s state, barked, “Eat your breakfast!”

But Tae couldn’t. He didn’t want to. All he wanted was to be with his appa, to feel safe again. His voice cracked as he choked out, “N-no… a-appa…” His tiny head shook in defiance, even as tears streamed down his face.

Jungkook’s anger reached a boiling point. He roughly grabbed Tae from his chair and sat him on his lap, holding him in place with a firm grip. Tae squirmed, trying to break free, but Jungkook’s strength was overpowering. “STAY STILL,” he ordered, his voice a harsh growl.

Tae cried even harder, his body shaking as he clung to Jungkook’s shirt, his small fists clutching the fabric as if it were his only anchor. Jungkook, determined to make the boy eat, forced spoonfuls of food into his mouth. But as Tae cried, hiccuping and gasping for breath, it became clear that he was too distraught to eat. Eventually, he fell silent, his cries turning into soft, pitiful whimpers as he buried his face in Jungkook’s chest, clutching onto him as if he were his last hope.

Jungkook finally noticed the change in Tae’s behaviour. He looked down and saw the boy curled up against him, exhausted from crying, his small body trembling. With a deep sigh, Jungkook realised that forcing the boy wasn’t going to work. He stood up, carrying Tae in his arms to his own room. The boy didn’t protest, too tired and broken to resist.

Jungkook laid Tae on his bed, covering him with a blanket that carried his scent. For a moment, he just stood there, watching the fragile boy who had cried himself to sleep. Something inside him stirred—an unfamiliar feeling he couldn’t quite place. But he pushed it down, closing the door behind him as he left, locking away the boy and whatever strange emotions he might have felt.