Can't Escape 3

Eleven

The dim glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room in a soft golden hue, casting faint shadows that swayed with the faint hum of the fan. Taehyung lay on his back, one arm resting beneath his head, the other securely wrapped around Y/n. Her soft, steady breaths tickled the crook of his neck as she lay curled against him, her fingers lightly gripping his shirt in her sleep. For the first time in weeks, his lips curved into a faint, almost serene smile.

Her presence soothed the chaos in his mind, if only temporarily. Taehyung's sharp eyes traced the patterns of the ceiling, but his attention wasn't truly on the mundane architecture of the room. It was on her—her warmth, her trust, her scent that lingered in the air. She smelled faintly of lavender and something distinctly hers. It reminded him of comfort, of something he didn't deserve yet desperately clung to.

He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair brushing against her forehead as he looked down at her. Y/n's features were softened in sleep—her lashes splayed like delicate ink strokes against her cheeks, her lips parted ever so slightly as she let out slow, rhythmic breaths. She looked peaceful, completely unaware of the storm that brewed inside him, unaware of the man she had given her heart to.

Taehyung's fingers ghosted over her shoulder, tracing the outline of her frame in an almost possessive manner. There was something intoxicating about this—her being in his arms, so vulnerable, so trusting, despite the bruises that marred her spirit because of him.

He let out a soft chuckle, though it lacked any humor. You're so foolish, Y/n.

His gaze darkened for a moment as he thought back to the earlier hours of the night—the way her eyes had filled with tears at his confession, the way she had held him like he was a wounded child instead of the monster he truly was. Her forgiveness was infinite, her compassion never-ending, and it infuriated him just as much as it comforted him.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, the words almost inaudible as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Yet, even as he said it, his grip on her tightened, his hold possessive and unyielding. He didn't deserve her, but he couldn't let her go either. She was his tether to a part of himself he had long thought dead—a part that still longed for love, for redemption.

As Y/n shifted slightly in her sleep, her face nuzzled deeper into his chest, seeking the warmth he provided. The action sent a pang through Taehyung's chest, a strange mixture of guilt and satisfaction flooding his senses. She didn't flinch from him, not even after everything he had done. Her trust was like a drug, and he was hopelessly addicted.

He thought about his mother again, the ghost of her voice echoing in his mind. "Please don't be like your father." Her trembling hands cupping his tear-streaked face were a memory burned into his soul, yet here he was—a man who had become the very thing he had vowed never to be. He hated himself for it, but the hatred only fed the cycle of anger, and Y/n was often caught in the crossfire.

A small sigh escaped Y/n's lips as she stirred slightly, and Taehyung's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. His hand instinctively moved to her hair, smoothing it down in gentle strokes. She settled again, her body relaxing into his touch, and for a brief moment, everything felt... normal.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the headboard. He focused on the sensation of her weight against him, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his side. This was his sanctuary, his reprieve from the demons that clawed at him every waking moment.

But even as he held her, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind—a reminder that this peace was temporary, that his darkness would consume her eventually. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to let her go. He needed her too much, even if his need came at the cost of her happiness.

As the night dragged on, Taehyung's gaze softened once more. He leaned down, brushing a feather-light kiss against Y/n's temple, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"Stay with me," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Even if it hurts, stay."

His words hung heavy in the air, a confession of his selfishness. And yet, as Y/n shifted again, her arms tightening around him in her sleep, Taehyung felt a twisted sense of relief. For now, she was here. For now, she was his.

And as sleep finally began to claim him, a satisfied smile graced his lips, even as the storm within him continued to rage, waiting for the inevitable.

To be continued...
Going to continue it rather than discontinuing.