HATE TO LOVE YOU || TAEKOOK || JIKOOK || MAFIA AU

[𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮]⁴⁹

After Taehyung’s departure, the mansion became a graveyard of sorrow. The air was feeling oppressive, so heavy that it was almost suffocating, as though the very walls were grieving his absence. 

The servants were moving with slow footsteps and downcasted eyes. It was as if they feared disturbing the cloud of grief that loomed over the household. Even the chandeliers seemed muted, their light failing to pierce through the somber gloom. 

Amid the suffocating stillness, Hobi was sitting on the couch, his head was hanging low and his chest aching unbearably. He hadn’t moved for hours, as if paralyzed by the enormity of what had happened. His mind was replaying the moment over and over, and his heart was shattering anew each time. 

How had he let this happen? 

How could he have been so foolish, so blind? 

How could he have agreed to the one promise he now regretted more than anything? 

"I can take care of myself, hyung... Don't worry about me. All I need is for you to keep your promise." 

Taehyung’s trembling words, his tear-streaked face, and those pleading eyes were haunting Hobi. The image of Taehyung sitting into the cab, his lips quivering as he forced himself not to look back, was seared into Hobi’s mind. 

His hands trembled as he clutched his hair, pulling in frustration, his groan echoed in the empty room. How could he have been so irresponsible? So unprotective of the boy he loved like a younger brother? 

A wave of dread surged through him. Taehyung was strong in so many ways, but this heartbreak had pushed him beyond his limits. What if he took some severe step a that he couldn’t undo? 

Flinching at his own thoughts, Hobi scrambled for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialed Taehyung’s number

It rang and rang, unanswered.

He tried again, desperation rising, only to be met with the same result. Panic clawed at him as he reached for the tracker. 

“He left his phone behind,” a soft but broken voice interrupted his frantic movements. 

Hobi turned to see Rejin standing nearby, her hands trembling as she held up Taehyung’s phone. Her face mirrored the anguish etched across his own. 

“It was in his room,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the suffocating silence. 

Hobi stared at the device in horror, realization dawning like a cold wave crashing over him. Taehyung had left it behind deliberately.

He knew the phones were equipped with trackers, and leaving it was his way of ensuring no one could find him. 

Hobi took the phone from Rejin’s hands, his chest tightening painfully as he powered it on. The screen lit up to reveal the wallpaper, a photo of the matching bracelets Taehyung and Jungkook once took. The bittersweet image twisted the knife deeper into his heart. 

He hurled the phone aside. Throwing his head back against the couch, he let out a trembling exhale. 

He knew what was coming. 

The moment Jungkook will emerge from his self-imposed exile, he would tear the mansion apart, brick by brick, or worse, he might destroy himself. 

And Hobi wasn’t sure if he had the strength to stop it. 

Why hadn’t Jungkook come out yet? Not even when the sound of the cab’s engine roared down the long driveway, disappearing toward the city.